Star Wars OPEN Star Wars: Episode XI: THE HIDDEN TEMPLE - follow up to the 2021 RPF Award winning game!

OOC: Combo with Sinrebirth

IC: Sabel and Eleodie
Battle of Jakku

The arrival at Jakku had gone as well as could be expected. They’d been called there and the weary looking Chiss in the command chair of the Onager knew that they would not have been called there if there wasn’t some dire need that drew them to the system. When they arrived he’d been glad that they found themselves across the system, as it were, from the other forces that had arrived, sure that the arrival of forces of Imperial design would, probably, not be viewed as friendly based on the designs of the other craft.

What dominated before them was a Tho Yor, one of four that the fleet’s sensors said occupied the system. The comms had crackled, the voice of the Emperor filling every channel. The message was one that sounded very familiar to his ears, even though he had not dealt with that being since he’d been sent to the Unknown Regions. Shaking his head, he knew that every craft that had been called there had been brought to destroy those who might oppose the Emperor.

Almost as soon as they arrived the navigation station called out that they had been locked out of hyper, the entire system had been cut off from the remainder of the galaxy. One armored gauntlet curled into an almost fist on the command chair although Sabel’s voice was calm as he spoke, ”Fleetwide, Red Alert, prepare for assault.”

No sooner had he spoken than the craft facing them attacked. TIE fighters poured out of the Tho Yor even as the massive craft turned and fired on the flagship. Sabel’s armored fists closed on the ends of the command chair as a third of the massive ship was ripped away. The bridge echoed with its own sounds of violence, the cracking of the transparisteel almost hidden amongst the yells and damage control reports.

The bridge shuddered, shook, as the artificial gravity failed. The gravity of the dipyramid and the planet beyond grasped at the ship, rotating it’s position relative to the planet. Decimus felt Eleodie’s hand in theirs in the moments before the change. As the transparisteel shattered, they pulled zher into their embrace, armor wrapping around zher, boots latching to the floor by the installed magnets, which they activated with a quick press of a button.

”Hang fast, Eldeodie.” the ambiguous voice came from them.

The sounds of chaos stilled suddenly, immediately following a massive crunching and slamming sound. In the command chair, Sabel had hit the emergency viewscreen closure the moment the screens had burst. With the chances of being pulled out reduced, he quickly began to snap out commands, ordering the fleet to spread out, while maintaining cover over each other, the fighter squadrons to engage the TIEs, and the modified, upgraded Venators to hide their upgrades until the right moment, letting the Tho Yor believe the Onager itself be the true threat to it.

Reaching up, he pulled down the repaired helmet, onto his head, feeling the stims flooding his system, feeling the surge of energy as the now embedded kyber shards fed into his own life force and enhanced his power and energy. Sabel’s smile was calm, ”Focus, people, we’re still got two thirds of a ship, and all the firepower that comes with that. Prepare to evacuate all unnecessary crew and have the squadrons deploy, find berths on the carriers when returning. Now move, people!”

Eleodie appreciated the save, but moreso appreciated the shutters stopping her imminent demise. Gravity reasserted itself, and zhe saw officers try to establish a picture of what was going on while following orders. The Venators retreated slightly to allow the Onagers to advance, with lesser ships interspersed, she imagined, but eyeballing them through the remaining viewports wasn't easy.

But the big detonation of another Onager lit up the night sky well enough. A report came in. "We've lost contact with the Rakehell, evacuation is at 50%. TIE Daggers are targeting escape pods, though. Permission to divert fighters to screen?"

The massive Tho Yor oriented and took the shots of the Onager, but its main gun was definitely out of commission. Eleodie spoke up. "Uncle, we need to get going. We're not going down with the ship - are we?"

Before he replied to Eleodie, Sabel turned ”Permission granted, 30% of the fighter screen to take out those targeting our people in the pods.”

Turning back to where he saw zher in Decimus’ arms the corners of his lips twitched in an almost smile. ”We are flying one of the toughest ships out there but no, we are not going down with the ship.”

Glancing at the Red Guard that was present, he’d not heard from Viertientus on the Rakehll which didn’t mean she was dead but simply out of comms, ”Execute Plan Charlie.”

The Guard, Decimus included, stiffened to attention before the others headed for the bridge exit. Decimus looked down at Eleodie, ”I will take you to Lord Sabel’s assault shuttle.” they said calmly.

Sabel nodded at Decimus before spinning in the command chair, facing the bridge crew. ”Maintain stations as long as viable, the control relay is on my shuttle so as soon as viability is lost I will fight this ship from there.”

With that, he stood, glancing at the holo where the Tho Yor dominated the screen, ”This looks to be a long fight, we must husband our resources for it.”

"We agree," Eleodie said, noting the curious turn of phrase. To husband. Zhe moved on, however. "The sensors said the rest of the system was divided, but with comms down we'll have a hard time coordinating outside of our respective quadrants," zher head turned to Sabel. "You're going to have a hard enough time as it is inside our quadrant."

The Tho Yor wasn't advancing, however, it was holding position, maintaining the gravity well generation, and the immense jamming blanketing the system. The TIE Daggers were causing chaos, but not much else.

The Onager, big gun down as it was, still had plenty of guns, but save for the Rakehell, the majority of the task force was outside of the range of the Tho Yor main weapon - theoretically. Analysts were drawing up data that suggested the hull could generate fire from any point, much like a Yuuzhan Vong warship, but the beam-weapon that had cut the Onager was projected from one of the symbols on each hull-face, of which there were eight on a dipyramid. Data stolen from the Resistance and other sources confirmed that the Tho Yor had a limited but powerful ability to rebuild itself from a supply of resources within the power core, or to generate swarms of fighter craft - or even smaller Tho Yor, if it had enough raw materiel. Eleodie summarised the information, if only because analysis was the best zhe could offer now. "We're in deep space so there are no raw materials for the Tho Yor to use, so we can wear them down -"

An immense tractor beam activated, grabbing at the hulk of the Rakehell and drawing it towards the Tho Yor, which promptly began to consume the ship -

Sabel watched as the holo display updated, a pale ring showing the estimated distance that would keep the capital ships safe from the large weapons on the Tho Yor. Listening as Eleodie spoke, he nodded sagely. Before he responded to anything else, he turned to Decimus, ”Get Eleodie a spare set of the Guard’s armor. Leave the helmet attached to the belt of it, for now. Not having zher blasted into space and perish because zhe’s not protected.”

The guard glanced at zher, only having stepped back a pace from her. They glanced over at Elevtus whose helmet turned and the armor measured her. The second Guard nodded at Decimus, receiving a nod from Sabel as well, permission, before hurrying off the bridge to secure armor that fit zher.

Turning his attention back to the display Sabel gestured, ”All capital fleet elements, stay beyond that line, to be reestablished should the Tho Yor fire again. Have the closest Venator’s outside that limit fire upon the Rakehell leave nothing but gas and splinters, once assured the hulk is lifeless.”

As the fleet began to move, ”Rotating deployment of fighter screens on the SDs, secondary squadrons also on rotation to deal with the TIEs that the dipyramid is deploying.”

Instructions given, his red eyes focused on Eleodie, ”The others drawn here have not attempted to contact us. Therefore I am certain they are wary of who we are. If they choose not to contact I will have our forces focus only on our quadrant as well as any stragglers of our foe from the nearer two quadrants. The enemy of my enemy is not always my friend, after all.”

Eleodie accepted a uniform and began to dress, perfunctory, not concerned as to who saw. "We imagine Snoke will want to keep us separated. Potentially he's some kind of additional dramatic plan in mind."

Zhe smirked. "Villains do love their melodrama."

As zhe spoke, the Rakehell was reduced to dust, and zhe quirked an eyebrow. "Self-destruct for the Onager, to make sure we leave no goodies for the Empire?"

Otherwise, there was the question of the new flagship, and what they proposed to do to break the stalemate - if anything - if they could.

Both Sabel and Decimus observed as Eleodie donned the armor. The latter breathed a sigh, as though relieved, when zhe had done so. Sabel allowed a small smile at the sigh, eyes drifting back and forth between the pair, as though encouraged by the way the two were acting around each other.

The smiled turned amused at zher question. ”The longer that dipyramid believes I am, and my command structure are, still aboard, the longer the stalemate may last. So we will continue as I ordered, with the proviso that the self destruct be set on the Onager to go off should it come under direct fire or be captured by the Tho Yor’s tractor. Until then, we use the relay to appear to still be aboard.”

He glanced at Decimus, red eyes glittering, ”You are charged with ensuring zher safety. As zhe will remain close to my person that does not interfere with your other duties as a Red Guard.”

The hermaphrodite Sephi nodded, deeply, stepping closer to Eleodie once more. ”Now that you are armored, our Lord’s shuttle awaits.”

A low snort escaped Sabel at the mix of formality and protectiveness that came from Decimus. ”Oh, and Eleodie, before you ask, my shuttle has no special markings to allow our foes to believe I am departing.”

A thought occurred, as he studied the holo display. He pointed out an older model Imperial design cruiser, an Arquitens. ”Of any that may be willing to speak to us, of the others trapped here, whoever flies that type of craft might be the most likely to be willing to listen to us. Contact them, if possible.”

The Lord's shuttle departed, but for now, the Celestial level jamming prevented them from anything but blink-code comms in their own task force; everything and everyone else was too far away. The Tho Yor seemed content to keep them separated, and isolated, trapped in-system, in orbit of Jakku.

The analysts put forward that a secondary trap was due, and they needed to preserve their formation and strength until an opportunity arose to escape. They were in for a long slog, and most other sides were settling into similar stalemates; too damaged to immediately escape, and the Tho Yor not exerting their powers to destroy, but to negate.

It was a trap of traps of traps.

Eleodie commented on it when the Onager detonated; the Tho Yor had indeed tried to consume it.

"We're stuck, uncle. We may as well try to conserve our strength."

And fuel, and supplies...

And lives, zhe thought.

As Sabel led Eleodie and Decimus, who was never more than a few steps from zher, to the office that had been set aside for him, near the bridge, he scanned the reports of the analysts. Reaching the office, he settled in one of the comfortable chairs in a nook of the office, rather than behind the desk. Gesturing for the other two to take seats, he shuffled the flimsies that spoke of what he’d just been reading.

He looked over to Eleodie, a small smile forming. ”Whoever enticed us here wants us here for a reason.”

Turning his head, his red eyes looked in the direction of the dipyramid, ”They wish us here but not, seemingly, to destroy us.” Holding up a long fingered hand once more, ”Of course, they will destroy forces sent against them as well as send forces to continue to harass us and attempt to coerce us into advancing.”

His gaze returned to zher, ”I’m more concerned about why we were brought here, to be kept here for the period that the Emperor specified.” He snorted, ”I am no fool and now I hope you understand why only one of the fleets of my polity is here. I have no trust in vaguely worded requests for aid so,”

Tilting his head to peer at his chrono, ”I’d expect that, within the hour and no contact from me, the borders of my polity will be a no fly zone as the remainder of the forces close off every approach. And will remain so until my people have proof I have returned to them. So,” he leaned back, crossing his arms with an amused smile, ”Our foes have done nothing more than providing us with the perfect opportunity to separate the wheat from the chaff of our forces. What leaves this system, when the time period has passed will be a well honed weapon that you and I may direct at any foe that threatens us.”

Zhe smiled slightly at him. "Whatever is left behind, or is here - you're here. We've been baited into a trap."

"So the Emperor's interest is in us, uncle." Zhe placed a hand on his shoulder. "So we have time to work out precisely what it is he wants with us." Zhe indicated the sensors, showing the formations of Resistance, Imperial and other ships aflame, with craft going down on Jakku.

"With all of us."

Sabel nodded, studying the display again. ”Considering the trap that had been set for us, for me, on O’Reen…” he began. Focusing on one sector of the display and the forces he saw there, the tremors in the Force he felt there, ”...I suspect the immediate answer to that is that those gathered here are those he considers most antagonistic to his own plans.” he murmured.

Returning the display back to the full system view, ”So…” his expression became a considered one, a strategizing one, ”...we know the seeming limitations on our foe’s equipment, some of them, so it may also be to our benefit to allow those that could oppose us to waste themselves against the Tho Yor and FO equipment here, while we study it all and find the opening we need to succeed. The order of the day then is that we turn to defense and examination of our foe here, to learn why we were brought and what their weakness is.”

TAG: @Sinrebirth

 

OOC: Another enjoyable combo with Adalia-Durron and Sinrebirth. Double post approved by GM.

IC: Black Squadron
Battle of Jakku: Galactic West

The bridge was tense as the Storm Cloud entered the system. The holo display near where Tiber, in his flight suit, stood was crowded with icons. As he began to sort out what he saw, one hand clasped with one of Zara’s a voice spoke, Admiral Akbar’s. Even as he listened he attempted to make clear the chaos in the holo terminal’s display.

But, when the Emperor’s voice sounded, his hand clenched tighter in that of his wife. Klaxons sounded as the system was locked from them being able to depart, gravity generators of some sort, he surmised. Turning to Nyz, ”Prepare Havoc, to your fighters.”

As he turned back, the warning klaxons shifted tone, turning to that of a Red Alert, as the massive dipyramid before them began to spit out fighters, TIE Daggers, and the SD near it began to fire. His eyes met that of his wife, stepping closer. It didn’t matter that the world seemed to be ending, his lips met hers for a moment. ”Stay safe, love. I’ll bring them back, I swear.” he murmured, knowing he was delaying the moment he had to race for the hangar and the fight.

She'd watched, listened and then hell opened up. His grip hurt but Zara said nothing, it didn't matter in the big scheme of things, her nausea surged as the sudden realization of the situation hit her. No!!! Her mind screamed, she wasn't ready as his lips met hers, she didn't even hear what he said. Zara wasn't one for public displays of affection, she never had been, a hurdle that Tiber had struggled with at first but adapted well too.

Suddenly, none of that mattered, the odds weren't in their favour, things had gone horribly pear shaped and as she gazed into his green eyes, she knew it might be the last time she ever saw him. In that instant she was sick, suddenly she gave no regard to who was there, no care to who might be watching as her hands cupped his face and she kissed him, deeply, passionately, like it might be the last time, ever. Thirty, or forty seconds later, she didn't know, she pulled away and whispered harshly, tears in her eyes, "don't die. I can't live without you."

Almost choking up, Tiber nodded shortly, ”I made a promise, love. And I intend to keep it.” he said softly. He gently cupped her cheek. Glancing around, he looked at the holo display again, ”Keep us focused, Z. I need your mind and your voice to help us stay on task.”

The TIE Daggers rammed into the Errant Venture, even as a half dozen spun on the Lexrullian warships. They were everywhere, almost, a thick cloud of fighter craft.

It wasn't going well, but the Tho Yor weren't going for broke; indeed it seemed to be absorbing the bolts from the Scythe without problem, focusing on defence and production of TIE Daggers; another ten emerged from a irising portal...

Glancing at the display again, ”I’ve got to go, love.” Tiber said softly, grasping Zara closely again, ”They need us.” Giving her one last lingering kiss, he grabbed his flight helmet and raced toward the bridge hatch.

--/--

In the hangar, Jeanfra was lingering near Dan’s fighter, not wanting to leave his side until the last moment. ”Be safe, Dan, please.” She glanced over at Chrystella, ”You’re his wingman, don’t let anything happen to him.” an almost pleading tone to her voice.

--/--

Watching him go Zara felt her heart sink, slowly she turned to the display and leaned on the sides, her eyes not focused as she did so.

-/-

Chrystella snorted, "I've managed to keep him alive this long, not about to get slack."

Dan had his arms around Jeanfra, "leave her be, what happens to me out there is up to me, not her."

Jeanfra snorted at Dan’s response. ”No, it’s up to you both, a good wingman or woman takes care of their partner as well as themself.” Her knuckles rapped lightly against his forehead, ”Has my overindulgence in our evenings caused your flying skill to atrophy?” she teased but was worried for him.

Again Chrystella snorted, "no, he's right. He does something utterly stupid, I can't be expected to follow him into hell. So far he's been smart enough to not do so, but, you are right about one thing, he's not been as sharp since you appeared."

"Hey!" Dan protested, "you don't have proof of that!"

"Let's get out there, it will be obvious." Chrystella said folding her arms. "I'll do my best to keep you alive, come on airhead."

Catching the comment from Chrystella, one of Jeanfra’s eyebrows shot up. Before she could retort the conversation moved on. She nodded, hearing the hangar door cycle open, ”Get your head in the game, Dan. I love you but you need to focus, we all do.” she said softly.

Just then a voice rang out, ”Black, Lightning, and Havoc squadrons, mount up. We’ve got a major battle ahead.” Tiber called out, having to use his command voice to hide the anguish he felt at having to fly without Zara at his side. ”The good news…we have a target rich environment when we launch. The bad news….we have a VERY target rich environment when we launch. To your fighters, sound off as you’re up.”

Chrystella turned to her ship, "you heard the man, move it." She said to Dan.

Dan gave a nod as he turned to Jeanfra, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulling her hard up against him, "see you out there." Then kissing her deeply, "come back, you hear me?"

Jeanfra returned the kiss, with a passion, not truly wanting to let go of him. But the situation meant that they needed to get to work, to fight and defend each other. Finally, reluctantly, she released him, ”You too, Dan.” she whispered fiercely, one last caress of his face before she turned and ran to the hangar staging area for Lightning Squadron.

As she mounted the boarding ladder of her T Wing a voice sounded from the leading edge of her right wing, ”That boy is going to be the death of you, sister…”, followed by a cloud of smoke.

With the canopy closing, Jeanfra turned her head, glancing at Wyrock, ”Ahhh but such a way to go.” The locks dogged shut and she swiftly had her fighter off the deck. Only moments later the rest of Lightning had called in to her, all ready to fly. Keying her comm to the command frequency, ”Black Lead, Lightning Lead, Lightning is up.”

Having headed to his own fighter after ordering the three squadrons to launch, Tiber had settled behind the controls, smoothly lifting off the deck, his X Wing slowly flying until its nose was only a couple meters from the magfield at the hangar exit. He clicked the comm button twice to acknowledge her report while he waited for the final report from Havoc that they were up as well as the reports from the remainder of Black Squadron.

Chrystella shook her head, there were three of them, a wing essentially and she wondered if that would work as she'd never actually flown with Tiber, it was always her and Dan. "Black two is set."

Dan had just done up his helmet as his ship lifted, "Black three, four lit."

On the bridge Zara leaned on the holo display, watching the enemy ships, the Blacks were yet to launch. Her stomach churned, the feeling of wanting to be with them was strong but the need to protect her second child, so much stronger. Silently she took in all verbalizations around her.

The TIEs were swarming, and it seemed as if more were being generated by the Tho Yor as they went.

One pilot sarcastically said didn't we just leave this party

But the Havoc's promptly signed in, and they were ready to launch - eager, even, for many of them were Quarren, and these death machines had only recently finished chewing down on their homeworld.

There was suddenly a TIE Dagger rushing at a suicidal pace towards the hangar -

With all three Squadrons calling ready to depart Tiber sent the command to launch. With Chrystella and Dan right behind him, the short Black Squadron were the first three fighters out of the hangar. Bones screeched out the moment that Tiber passed the magfield, drawing his attention to the Dagger bearing down on him at high speed. Without a thought he snapped out a command to the squadron as Lightning and Havoc squadrons flowed out of the hangar and around their trio.

He slewed the nose slightly off center, flicking the trigger as he did. The shield of the Dagger held for a moment, but with all three of the fighters pouring fire into it it was only a matter of moments before the shields went down. He wasn’t sure which of the three of them scored the killing blow but, seconds later, the three of them were flying through the fireball and debris of the TIE as it exploded, almost in their faces.

A snort escaped him as Bones warbled in an angry tone, several smaller pieces of the TIE had scored lines of, mostly, minimal damage along the nose of his fighter. As the Blacks pulled into a split formation, anchoring the center, Lightning and Havoc to either side, Tiber shook his head. Keying the comm, he reached out to Zara, ”Overwatch, get the point defenses up, that was close.”

Switching to the freq for all three Squadrons, ”Lightning, cover the right flank, Havoc the left. Black will plug holes when they appear. Sweep the sphere.” Putting actions to words, he had the Blacks slow slightly, as the other two squadrons flowed, several moving in above and below his flight path, staying out of the way, should he, Chrystella or Dan needed to fire.

Zara had been watching, holding her breath when she heard Tiber's order to launch, her eyes dragged to the incoming Dagger, opening her mouth to say something she wasn't overly surprised to see her husband's ship turn sharply and dispatch the enemy ship. She gave her head a shake, someone on point defense should have seen that Dagger coming in before they launched, should have warned them. Turning she was about to snap when she heard Tiber do it for her, a wry smile on her lips. "You heard him, eyes open, we don't need to be losing pilots in stupid ways!!"

The point defenses kicked in, trimming two Daggers from the skies but they had to shut down to avoid hitting friendlies. Shots became more circumspect, careful not to hit them. However, Tiber's ship began to announce a power shortage; something had embedded in his hull!

The Havocs piled out of the hangar behind Black Squadron, firing into the TIE Daggers and using mass-fire techniques to overwhelm enemy shields. The way they dove into the fray left no illusions as to the recent additions to the task force; they were committed.

The Errant Venture and Scythe were the backdrop of this battle, hurling fire at the distant Tho Yor, which seemed content to watch its fighters swarm them. A full squadron of Daggers emerged from an orifice in the Tho Yor, and arched beneath the engagement, clearly intending to strike at them from below.

Zara's knuckles were white as she gripped the holo table, her cobalt blue eyes glistened as she watched, the damaged report filtered through and gritting her teeth she knew there was nothing she could do, after 16 years with him, she knew it didn't matter what she said, he wasn't about to relinquish command and come back to watch from here. Her lekku twitched in a display of stress she knew couldn't be good for the baby but it wasn't like she had a choice at this point.

Then she saw the new launch and spun to the comms officer, "more incoming Daggers and they're going low! Tell them! Get Black two and three to close around one, he's damaged!!!” Turning back she watched the new squadron dive beneath the battle, "where are they going?" She muttered, her eyes scanning for targets.

Chrystella got the incoming regarding Tiber being damaged and hazarding a glance she saw it, it wasn't terminal in a normal situation, but this wasn't a normal situation. "Two, see it?" She asked Dan.

"Got eyes on, sticking close." Dan wondered if Tiber could keep going. "We got incoming low, orders Lead?"

Tiber smiled softly, hearing and feeling the concern of his wife and his team. ”Bones, isolate that damaged section, stop it from draining us fully.” The droid whistled and began to reroute systems of the fighter to keep power from flowing through where the chunk of TIE stuck out from the hull.

He checked the scope, seeing what Zara had called out about, if that squadron of Daggers got through then not just the three squadrons he had but the ship as well would be in trouble. Glancing to his right and left, ”Well Blacks, looks like it’s up to us again to pull everyone’s bacon out of the fire.” he said over the squadron freq. Clicking to the general freq, ”Lightning, Havoc, keep these under fire, Black has your six.”

Nosing over his fighter, he could feel a slight lag in the controls and knew he’d need to compensate to keep their foes from turning him into an expanding cloud. As the nose came down a grim smile crossed his face, seeing the Daggers racing toward them. ”Overwatch, sending targeting data, set concussion missiles to fire under them, toward their backsides, they’re more vulnerable there.” As he spoke he slewed slightly back and forth, letting the targeting pip settle on one Dagger and then another, until he’d covered half the incoming squadron.

"Do it." Zara ordered to the weapons officer, "full spread, lets mess them up." Having no idea what Tiber was planning but trusting his every word, she turned back to watch the results.

There was a staccato of detonations; there were more lost TIE Daggers than missiles fired, but that was no surprise with how thick the skies were becoming with them.

Ackbar came over the local comms - the only signals that could rech them. "All fighters regroup to defend the Scythe and Errant Venture, we're shifting power to shields until we can weather this storm."

They were going to, eventually, run out of missiles, out of blaster gas, out of fuel.

The Tho Yor simply loomed, at a distance, seemingly intentionally.

The order came through from Akbar and it dragged Zara's eyes to the two ships in question, "they must be running low on ammo." She muttered to herself. Scanning the table again she saw the enemy ship identified as the Tho Yor. "What is that ship doing?" She wondered out loud, turning to the tactical officer she directed a question. "That ship?" She pointed to the image, "are it's weapons on line? Shields? Tell me as much as you can about it. I want to know what the frack it's doing out there aside from nothing!"

The tech on the sensors looked up at her, “It’s heavily armed, anything that gets close…” she tapped on her panel, causing a dotted line to appear in the holo display around the Tho Yor, “...it fires on, sends the fighters after.” she said, having been trying to collate the data.

Tiber, meanwhile, was glad of the barrage of missiles. But, he glanced at his scope as the command rang out from Admiral Ackbar. ”Overwatch, thanks for the assist but I have a feeling this is going to be a long battle so save the stores of them, we should use them sparingly now.”

He pulled out of the dive that the Squadron had been in, their laser fire had assisted in winnowing the ranks of the Defenders that had been trying to come from below so it was time to reassess. ”Lightning, Havoc, report in fuel and ammo status.” he called out as he brought the three ships of Black Squadron back to where they’d been the reinforcements for the other two squadrons.

Jeanfra quickly got Lightning to report to her, ”Black One, Lightning One, Lightning is, mostly, at half tanks and half the racks flushed of missiles. Lasers are still good to go but there are more fighters than missiles still.” she reported in as she spun her T Wing, firing at a pair of TIEs as she did.

There was nothing to respond too, they'd all heard what Tiber had said. The information been given to Zara though was causing her concern. Why was it just waiting, what was it waiting for? There had to be a reason. She turned back to the tech, "get me all you can on the Tho Yo, where's it from, its history, background, kriff, if you can get me its cleaners name, that'd be great." Turning back her cobalt blue eyes focused on it, something felt off.

Data flowed.

An ancient capital ship that belonged to the same people who created Centerpoint Station, it could generate gravity wells, system wide jamming, but with a twist; instead of a Starbuster, it could convert matter into other shapes; by consuming raw materials it could create droid-piloted TIE Daggers, repair itself, or even birth smaller capital ships.

In space like it was, it was vulnerable; when above a planet it could consume the world without end, and was basically invincible.

The analysis was summed up as World Devastator High On Spice.

The parallels to forty years ago and the Dark Empire War had not been lost on analysts like Voort Piggy SaBring, Adam Lyon, Face Loran and Talon Karrde, especially as Emperor Snoke had sicced them on Mon Calamari and Rey had apparently gone undercover to discover the secret - and save Kylo Ren.

But that didn’t help anyone here.

Snoke had turned the signal source - the Coordinate, Intel from the Remnant suggested the origin was called - into bait for the Jedi, the Resistance, the Remnant, Daala’s Maw Irregulars, and even other Sith.

But long range scans confirmed what they thought - the Tho Yor were trapping them all here; not striking. The foot hadn’t dropped yet… and they needed to survive that drop.

Bones had been trying to keep the power from dropping off even more in Tiber’s fighter but it was a losing battle. Between that, the continuing reports of depleting power and stores of weapons, Tiber was already debating calling in the three squadrons to have them refuel and rearm. And then he got the report from the intel people, adding to his understanding of the battle sphere. Given that, he made a decision.

”Lightning One and Havoc One, Black One, call them in, return to base. Both Lightning and Havoc to leave one three craft flight on fighter defense. Rotate flights every three hours or as needed.” he ordered.

Turning his fighter back toward the Storm Cloud, he glanced over at Chrystella and Dan’s fighters, he really needed to replenish Black Squadron but with where they were that wouldn’t be happening for a while. Clicking the comm again, ”Overwatch, Black One, all birds RTB. Point defense will have two three bird flights for cover.”

Jeanfra had ordered Lightning’s Charlie Flight to provide the first round of cover as they were the most up on power and stores. As she brought her T Wing in to land she glanced over and winced, seeing her uncle’s fighter. That he’d stayed out there as long as the rest of them knowing that he was nursing a wounded bird said a lot to her about either his courage or his arrogance or both, but she was sure which it was. She descended from the canopy, to find both her uncle and the Havoc commander walking up.

Tiber nodded to them both, ”Get all three squadrons rearmed and refueled. Set up a schedule, Black will take shifts as well, so all crews get rest as well as time on the line. I’ll try to get us more intel while my bird is repaired.” He winced slightly as he heard a string of curses erupt behind him, realizing who had been set as his crew chief. With one eyebrow raised, he glanced at Jeanfra, ”Really, she’s my crew chief?”

With a butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth grin, Jeanfra replied, ”Wyrock is the best we have, who else would I give that job to to make sure our commander stays alive?”

Shaking his head, ”Get to work, people.” Tiber muttered before he stalked out of the hangar, heading to the bridge lifts.

Hearing they they were coming in, Zara was relieved but she had no time to feel it. "Report what we have discovered about that ship to Admiral Akbar, and then....." It was a strange request, "look into history books, for some reason that thing looks old, strange and old.....and my education is telling me it's been around for a long time." Turning back she used her hand to highlight the craft and then both hands to expand the image, the design was not familiar to her nor was the appearance, shaped unlike anything she'd seen before. "I want close up holo images of the Tho Yor, I want to see the details on the hull." She turned to the officer she'd be liaising with. Zara needed to know what that ship was and who was in command, then stop it.

The ride on the lift wasn’t as quiet and contemplative as Tiber had expected, people were constantly on and off it as it rose to the bridge level. When he finally arrived, he was only one of about a half dozen that exited the lift. So he was half hidden by the crowd when he stepped onto the bridge. Which meant he got to see his lovely wife bent over a console without her having noticed yet, her lekku twitching as she studied something. Walking up to her quietly, his arms slipped around her waist, leaning forward. ”I told you I’d bring them all back, love.” he whispered in her ear.

Turning she smiled softly, kissing his cheek, "never doubted you." She lied, relief he was with her and close again. Turning back she pointed, "look at this." She was pointing at the symbol on the front of the ship, "that's not Imperial, its not First Order, it's....Je'daii, it's really old too.........like Centerpoint old. Who or what is it and why is it even here? I don't see it's purpose, not yet. Still looking into it, need to find a weakness."

Smiling, not letting go of her, he looked over her shoulder. ”Hmmmm, the data that was sent to me said it was very ancient so I’m guessing Celestial. Which means….” He rested his chin on her shoulder as he thought for a moment, ”The data also mentioned Centerpoint so I’d believe…” He was thinking harder about hat he’d learned over the years and in school, ”...there must be something, somewhere that controls it and the other ones here.” He sighed, ”This would be when having a Force user around would help.”

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @Adalia-Durron, @galactic-vagabond422, @CosmoHender

 

combo with @Sinrebirth, thanks for allowing my to play one of favorites. It’s always a pleasure.

IC: Jaina Fel
Ajan Kloss

Jaina was on autopilot.

The truth was that Jaina had been numb since the moment she realized Jagged was gone. Gone was a better way to think of it, much better than saying that he was dead.

Did she want to leave the Chimaera and go right back into the fray? No. If Jaina had a choice she would’ve gone as far away as she could, to a place where no one knew her.

But that wasn’t an option, she would stay and do what needed to be done. Jagged would not die in vain, Jaina would personally avenge his death. Everyone one of them would pay… Snoke, Ben, Rey, and anyone else who was responsible.

She didn’t have a plan for how to do it. Actually trying to consider options, or to even think about the future, was too painful. Jaina stifled a laugh, what a joke that was… there was no future without him in it.

There was life, though, and it did not know how to intellectually shy away from pain, but was pure, it merely sought to nurture, and love. A life, curdled in her womb, reached out and sought to soothe, to hold her, lapping her with the Force because it didn't know anything better.

It?

He.

And yet, the oppressive darkness of the hangar - of the whole damn Eclipse - swaddled Jaina like a babe, as a low laugh trickled into her mind.

Snoke was opening the way from her to him.

He wanted to offer her something.

Jaina stopped and looked around for a moment, then she sat down and held her head in her hands. What was she thinking? The baby had touched her, did that mean would Snoke notice it too?

She’d rushed into this, basically without thought, and had once again risked another life. This life was completely innocent, one that shouldn’t even be there. “Damn you, Jagged, why did you do this to us?”

How could she ever move on from this? More importantly, she’d already failed at being a parent by boarding Snoke’s ship carrying Jag’s child.

Could she convince the infant to stay quiet?

The infant was responding to her fear, to her worry, becoming louder.

A voice; female.

Come on, Jaina. You're making me look like a bad Master.

It was Mara's voice.

The only one that could cut this void; someone who had been to the dark side and back again.

Jaina sighed and rubbed her forehead.

“I guess Uncle Luke was busy, so he sent you?” She asked her aunt. “I’m not exactly looking forward to facing Snoke, or Ben,” Jaina murmured.

“But,” she said a little louder, “here I am sitting on this doom ship, speaking to my dead aunt.” She growled and pushed herself off the floor to stand back up. “I’m walking into a trap, and you’re probably part of it.”

Sounds about right, Mara said, amused. But Luke is going after Ben. My Ben. Snoke let him out to play and lost control of him. You're not alone, Jaina. You never were.

A soft mental hand seemed to press upon her gut, and Jaina's son wriggled in joy.

You can do this.

“Okay, what do you think will happen when Snoke realizes I’m pregnant?” Jaina asked with an edge to her voice. She wanted to shout, and break things. How could Mara say she wasn’t alone? Jaina scoffed, “I’m a widow,” she said angrily, “and my husband killed himself. So, I’d say that makes me pretty much alone now.” Jaina found the door that led from the hangar into the ship, and without speaking to Mara again, she kept walking. She didn’t want to hear how she could ‘do this’, what did that even mean? That she could raise a child alone? Her family was gone, and it was her fault Jagged was gone. Ben was a lost cause, and she certainly didn’t want him near Jag’s son.

My Ben, not Leia's, Mara reminded.

In the Force, the darkness at the heart of the ship shifted, making its way to a central point that the Force told her was her destination. It was hungry, anticipatory; a predator.

Snoke.

Mara tried to get her attention back.

And you're not as alone as you think.

There was a surge in the Force as someone she knew and loved became conscious again.

Clearly he'd been out cold, wherever he was, and for a brief moment he was present in her, confused, but awake, not in danger, and then he settled into what felt like sleep for her; possibly medical. A clatter of movement and excitement from the sentients around him, joy, genuine joy, and Jagged Fel was quiet to her again.

Not dead, no, merely absent.

Her eyes widened and she slid back down to the hangar deck, unable to hold back the tears, and her body shook from sobs of relief. “Oh, Mara…,” Jaina said when she could finally speak, “he was gone, and the Bloodfin… it was destroyed.” She shook her head trying to gather her thoughts, “when it seemed he was dead, I wanted to die too.”

She sighed and wiped her face, “I’m fine now, but I may kill Jagged for putting me through that,” she laughed.

“Thank you, Aunt Mara, you don’t know how much this means to me.” She looked at her aunt, “and I’m sorry. I should’ve realized you mean your Ben… I’ve not been myself.”

Jaina shuddered as she thought about the dark place she’d fallen into, it was a place she’d been in before.

It went back to the Yuuzhan Vong invasion, she lost her friends, and loved ones. This had been just as wretched, and it caused all of the guilt from long ago to resurface.

It had been impossible to accept losing Jag… he’s always been a survivor. Jaina thought of him as invincible, and now he wouldn’t be going anywhere without her after this. It was damned time that the two of them were in the same place for more than a day.

Mara stepped besides her, a hand upon her shoulder, her eyes green even in the blue of her spirit self, her touch warm even if spectral. "I know, Jaina. It's okay. You've lost so much, here, and now, and before. Your brothers, your parents, your uncle, me..."

She drew her into a hug. "Jagged is alive. My son is alive. Your son is here."

"You have your family, your chance, and something to fight to defend..."

The darkness was approaching, it was as if a shadow was filling every contour of the ship. It was deep, dark, dangerous. Powerful.

Monstrous.

Even her brother's darkness did not compare to this.

Even the Lost Tribes.

Even Abeloth's.

She accepted the comfort from her aunt, it was the balm she needed after being convinced Jag was… gone.

“I don’t believe I can put this off any longer,” she whispered, “I wish you could fight alongside me, Aunt Mara. Your help would’ve been most welcome,” Jaina’s tone was sincere and growing stronger.

“Give my love to mom and dad, if you ever see them,” Jaina said as she slipped into the shadows, and into the cloying darkness that now surrounded them.

Mara left, but her eyes narrowed as she vanished.

Something dripped on her neck.

It was wet.

Warm? No.

But definitely wet.

Cold.

Jaina shuddered from the sudden cold droplet sliding down her neck. She swallowed and reached to brush it away, when she realized her hands were trembling.

She took slow deep breaths in and out, willing herself to let go of the pain she’d felt from what happened at Kamino. It was behind her, and Jagged was alive. That knowledge would give her the strength she needed to face Snoke.

The darkness in this room, it was enveloping, she could barely see in-front of her.

A low gravelly laugh.

Snoke's laugh.

He was in the same room as her.

Jagged was alive, yes, but he wasn't here.

That laugh. She glanced into the pitch darkness. But the laugh… that gave her what she needed. It was a jolt back into reality, much like the coldness on her neck had started to do.

She shouldn’t need them, but Jaina had allowed her emotions to take over while she had been mourning. Her mind was back on her objective.

Jaina was no stranger to the imagined monochrome line between light and dark, she’d been on that tightrope countless times. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the oppressive dark air, and she laughed back.

The dark hesitated.

She would feel it.

But it was also empowered; burning through its own fear, to strike.

A spear of midnight black was hurled from a direction behind her.

kriff

Jaina dropped, she felt the weapon parting the air as it sailed over her. If he wanted to play a game of reflexes, she could do this all day.

She got up to her knees and listened.

“You could always show yourself,” Jaina said out loud, “it would save us both time.”

"It might."

Air, disturbed, to the left of her.

"But then it would merely bring an end to my fun."

Another movement, this time by her right foot, brushing her ankle...

A feather?

She took a quick step back and felt her ankle, it tingled from the feather-like touch.
Feather?

Jaina glared into the darkness.

Surely not? Yet…

“What are you doing here?” Jaina demanded. “Let me guess, you want to break another Solo? You’re sadly mistaken if that’s what your plan is,” she told the feathered being.

“Show yourself, dammit!”

“Choose and act, Jaina Solo Fel.”

It was her.

Vergere.

“Perhaps we chose the wrong brother…”

Perhaps Kylo Ren and Darth Caedus are not the future of the Sith…

Snoke’s voice was close, in the dark.

A caress upon her belly.

Was it a Force touch, or a feathered hand, or a clawed grasp?

Jaina shuddered and pushed back at the touch, “no touching!”

“You corrupted my siblings by twisting their minds, it left them both incapable of being a leader,” Jaina snapped. “I, on the other hand, have a strong mind. You will not torture me, I won’t have it.”

Vergere's breath upon her nape.

"We don't need to."

Suddenly it became apparent that the cold water was a paralytic; it reached her spine, and her body dropped to the ground.

Vergere's tears.

As Darth Traya says... we don't need your mind, twisted or not.

Snoke smothered her with the Force.

Just your body.

Darkness drew at the edges of her vision.

Your baby.

The last words echoed in her mind, trapped in a body that would no longer respond to her.

My new vessel.


She only had herself to blame. Would she have still come here if she hadn’t been blinded by grief? Probably. It was an obvious trap. The kriffing Fosh was the only surprise.

Jaina ceased thoughts of resisting, it was too late to try and resist, and the tears made all effort impossible. She would save her strength… for now.

All she could do was think of her unborn child as the darkness closed in.

Tag: @Sinrebirth

 

OOC: The following is an insane combo with Lady_Belligerent and Sinrebirth – it's always a pleasure!


IC: Grand Admiral Natasi Daala, Chancellor Aryan Graul, Lyz Graul, Others
Aboard the Megador, Jakku

"QUIET!" Daala snapped at Poinard. She had no patience for Aryan’s incompetent lackey.

"This is precisely why you don’t align with the Sith," Daala said angrily. "I should’ve followed my instincts and gotten the kriff out of this after the disaster at Kamino. But I came because you asked me to," she directed at Aryan. Natasi had already decided she was ignoring Lyz since she didn’t want to deal with that kind of crazy.

"I hope you have a skifter up your sleeve, Aryan."

Poinard growled, and Lyz held up a hand. "Off the deck. Go to the bridge, we don't need you here. You need to stop the gunners from taking pot-shots out of panic and getting us blown up."

Remal was on the comms. "Admiral, should I launch the fleet?"

Lyz went to say something but changed her mind. Not that she had any idea what Aryan would do.

Under the circumstances, the Chancellor felt helpless. He didn’t need to use the Force to know that he was dangerously close to losing control. With unrelenting fury, Snoke's forces had advanced on their position, effectively cutting off all escape routes with their Celestial technology. Daala’s behavior only exacerbated the situation when she misjudged his intentions and began raving.

In fact, it was Daala’s irrational anger that triggered a response, causing his frustration to boil over. Clenching his hand into a fist, he brought it down on the table to grab their attention and reassert his authority.

"Enough," Aryan growled in a low baritone, his eyes sweeping the room before coming to rest on Natasi. "Admiral, don’t you think it would’ve been prudent for you to actually analyze the situation before accusing me of wrongdoing? Betrayal is such a harsh word. Do you truly believe that’s what happened here? That I’ve deliberately victimized you?"

He inclined his chin and held her gaze with a stony glare. "If you’ve conducted any research into my history, then I’m sure you’re well aware of my aversion toward the Sith. Working with them in any capacity would be the last option I would consider. But desperate times always call for desperate measures. We’ll need all the help we can get to defeat this threat."

Lowering his head, Aryan studied his hands as he laced his fingers together. "However, negotiation will be a fruitless gesture at this juncture," he continued in a more subdued tone. "Snoke will never accept that. We will need to eliminate him first. If we cut off the head, the body will flounder. Without a leader, his commanders will be more pliable to talk about surrender. That’s our goal.

"Considering my history with the Supreme Leader, as his Chancellor, I volunteer to contact him and initiate a conversation." He pursed his lips, pondering his plan but deciding not to share his approach—not yet, anyway. "I’m hoping it will provide enough of a distraction to allow your ships to get into position and deal a killing blow."

Natasi’s glare at Lyz was openly hostile, but she held any response that crossed her mind, mainly because Aryan had everyone’s attention after he smashed the conference table. Remal’s comm was an excellent excuse for her to take a moment to cool off.

She walked to the edge of the room and spoke calmly to her Captain, "hit pause on launching, Remal. Someone here jumped the gun by firing, and I’m shocked the damned Tho Yor haven’t decimated us like they did the Bloodfin. I’ll have instructions soon."

Striding back to Aryan, she faced him from the opposite side of the table and spoke only to him, "my anger is far from irrational." Her voice was monotone as she spoke clearly. "You have no idea what we witnessed at Kamino," she pointed out to the Celestial weapons, "that damned thing could destroy this monster ship of yours in minutes. The Tho Yor at Kamino wrecked the Bloodfin before anyone could intervene. Fel underestimated it, and I won’t make that mistake."

Daala placed both hands down on the table and leaned closer, "order your people to hold their fire before they get us all destroyed." She looked over at Lyz, still speaking to Aryan, "I recommend that you make it clear that orders to fire, or hold fire, are to only be followed if they come from YOU."

She allowed her words to sink in a moment and then, finally, she turned on Lyz. "You need to remember that you’re the Chancellor’s wife, and with that position your responsibilities include serving tea, shaking hands of refugees, and visiting the injured in medical centers." Daala leaned over the table, still keeping her tone emotionless, "your responsibilities do NOT include giving orders to bridge personnel on any ship… especially any of mine, or where it places my fleet in the crosshairs of those things," Daala gestured at the Tho Yor again. "Understood?"

Lyz raised her eyebrows and would have spit fumes at Natasi, but she did have a point. This time.

And besides, she wasn't wrong. Gracious, if not a bit petulant, she nodded. "Of course, Admiral." Her gaze cut to Aryan, aloof as if she didn't care about the dressing down she'd just received. "Chancellor, I leave you to get control of your forces."

Ever the slight dagger. Remal for his part paused the launch of any ships but gave strict orders for everyone in the Maw Fleet to hold position. Poinard was completely silent, if not flushed in anger.

The Megador slightly rumbled as more tractor beams were locked onto it. Lyz would have commented, but she didn't want to get between Natasi and Aryan. They were quite capable of arguing without her input, seemingly.

Aryan clenched his jaw at Natasi’s rebuke, allowing her to vent while remaining silent and unmoving. He didn’t want to openly express his anger, but she had clearly struck a nerve. She was out of line to make demands of him when they operated under two distinctly separate classifications. It was the perfect example of how military and politics rarely mix.

He had every right to admonish her for such behavior, but unfortunately, Natasi was not the only one proving difficult under these circumstances. Lyz also demonstrated her defiance when she countered with her own biting remark and then left the room in dramatic fashion.

With a sharp intake of breath, Aryan watched her go, his eyes tracking her to the door before he focused his attention on Poinard. The man had stiffened, no doubt livid about how this meeting had transpired. He couldn’t blame him.

"Go with my wife and start formulating a plan for a counterattack," the Chancellor ordered gruffly, motioning toward the door with his hand. "And cease fire with those godsdamned turbolasers. That’s only inviting trouble. You’re my military advisor; I need you to take the lead on this."

Inclining his chin, he then regarded everyone else left behind—all except for Daala. "Clear the room. I wish to speak with the Grand Admiral alone."

He waited until they filed out before folding his hands on the table and studying Natasi under a hooded gaze. "You managed to grab my attention," he stated evenly, his expression never wavering. "I assume that’s what you wanted, so…" He reclined back and shrugged marginally. "Let’s hash it out."

Daala responded with a curt nod and took a seat across the table from Aryan. "Yes, let’s hash it out, Chancellor," she said slowly.

"I’d like to know if you were in on Fel’s foolish plan at Kamino?" She asked in a cool tone. "He was responsible for the unnecessary loss of his flagship, and we don’t have the complete body count yet on how many the Empire lost there."

She shook her head sighing, "the mission felt poorly executed and Fel all but begged the Tho Yor to destroy the Bloodfin."

"Again, allow me to express my regret for what happened there," Aryan began slowly, spreading his hands as if to commiserate over the loss of the fleet. "I was sincere when I mentioned it earlier, but I suppose the meaning became lost in the heat of the moment. Raised tempers tend to distort our perceptions."

He offered a wan smile and dipped his head slightly, hoping to appease her sensibilities. If he could restore the positive rapport they had shared earlier, it would go a long way in making amends for any misunderstanding. At the very least, he trusted Natasi would indulge him.

"To answer your question, no, I wasn’t aware of Fel’s plans to sacrifice himself," Aryan continued after a moment, issuing a soft sigh to emphasize his dismay. "There were nearly a dozen people shouting updates into my ear, so I heard the news second-hand once we arrived at Bastion. By that point, there was very little I could do about it. I didn’t even have time to process it before they whisked me away on this behemoth and brought me to Jakku."

Canting his head, he regarded Daala from across the table and scoffed. "I guess it’s no surprise that I didn’t want to comply with their wishes. I originally intended to take my family and slip away among the refugees."

Natasi held her hand up and spoke, "hold on." This wasn’t what she’d expected to hear, he had planned to disappear? It took several seconds for her to continue calmly because internally she was far from calm.

"You sat with us, Chancellor, and discussed our working together to end Snoke’s tyranny. We allied together making our plans all while you knew you would abandon us?" Daala wasn’t sure what part of this was bothering her most, that he duped her or that he was so quick to break the alliance they’d made. This wasn’t the Aryan Graul she’d imagined. She wished he would’ve just stuck with the excuse that her messages were lost when he was being bombarded with reports.

Daala sighed and rubbed her forehead in an attempt to keep her cool, "did you laugh at me as you hurried to leave the Chimaera, Aryan? I guess that's why my direct messages to you were ignored."

The Chancellor exhaled heavily and slumped back in his chair, no longer trying to conceal his frustration. It was only after the fact—after the words had left his lips—that he realized he had made a mistake. Lamenting about his inability to escape this nonsense had been the wrong thing to do in front of someone like Daala. She was too headstrong and proud to tolerate that behavior, and he feared he had lost her confidence. He mentally cursed himself for potentially causing irreparable damage.

"Don’t be ridiculous, Natasi," Aryan said curtly, taking a moment to run a hand over his face. "It wasn’t my intention to offend you. When I made my decision to leave the Chimaera, I truly thought I was doing the right thing for the Empire. You needed a military mind to lead the assault; someone with experience in fleet strategy. I was better suited elsewhere with my political acumen… and I still believe that. I wasn’t trying to mislead you—nor abandon you."

His expression turned grim as he met her gaze from across the table.

"When we made our initial plans, it was always my goal to see us through to victory," he continued firmly, his eyes reflecting his conviction. "But then I started to receive reports from around the galaxy. Snoke had gained the advantage by devastating entire systems with his Celestial weapons. Suddenly, it became an impossible task to oppose him. It was a death wish, and I guess I wasn’t ready to sacrifice myself… or my family. Not after everything we’ve been through."

He pursed his lips as he idly tapped the datapad before him. "I did have a contingency for you too. I had a message prepared; I wanted you to join us, Natasi."

"You—what?" She was seldom rendered speechless, but this wasn’t at all what she’d expected. Her anger level dropped considerably as she digested his statement in silence.

"Thank you for explaining, Aryan," her tone now subdued. "I’m just not clear on why you didn’t come to me to share these reports immediately. I feel like we wouldn’t be sitting here in this position had I known the full picture," she motioned around them indicating their current dire position.

She really didn’t expect him to answer, mainly because it was pointless now. "Okay, we need to agree on what to do next. Do you have any reinforcements waiting in the wings?"

The Chancellor shifted in his seat, suddenly embarrassed about their recent exchange. He had disclosed more information about himself than he intended, which left him vulnerable. To compensate, he averted his gaze and nervously raked his fingers through his beard, grateful when she finally changed the subject and asked about the fleet.

"If you’re looking for a surprise, this is it," Aryan said with a rueful smile, spreading his hands to indicate the colossal vessel. "This was part of Jagged Fel’s legacy plan, but I’m afraid we no longer hold the advantage on that one. The enemy already had an opportunity to get a real good look at her."

He sighed and glanced down at his datapad once more. "Aside from your fleet, I have five Turbulent-Class Star Destroyers at our disposal. They’re docked down below, but that’ll hardly be enough to subdue their forces."

His shoulders slumped as the reality of the situation began to settle in. "We’ll be lucky if they put a scratch in their hull."

Natasi was going over assets as Aryan listed them, and they could out-gun any normal enemy, but this enemy wasn’t normal. Then Aryan’s comment gave her an idea.

"We’ll be lucky if they put a scratch in their hull."

She slowly grinned and said, "I have something that can scratch their hull."

Daala waved her hand and corrected herself, "well, it doesn’t actually scratch. It’s a Metal Crystal Phase Shifter, and it can penetrate conventional shielding, turning hull plates into powder."

There was the matter of how they would use it with the Chimaera docked, but that was a job for the engineers to solve. "Let’s get my engineers and your engineers together. We combine efforts and use the MCPS. It helped against the Tho Yor at Kamino. It’s not an instant kill, but the MCPS combined with the other ship’s weapons, we were able to overwhelm it."

The shadow in the corner of the room spoke. "That is what I hoped to hear you say."

The voice was one they would recognise.

As was the face that emerged from the black.

Darth Krayt.

Daala stood and walked around the table to stand beside the Chancellor. This development was infuriating, but she was aware of how touchy Sith Lords were. It wasn’t as if they could simply have him escorted off the Megador.

"I wasn’t offering my weapon to you," Daala said sternly. "If I order it to be used, it will be from my assets, by my people. Otherwise, my offer to the Chancellor is off the table."

She glanced at Aryan before continuing, "It seems we had an uninvited witness to our conference, Chancellor Graul. Surely that’s grounds for arrest?"

Aryan visibly deflated, his face turning unnaturally pale under the Dark Lord’s scrutiny. Unlike their previous meeting, he was unable to detect the subtle shift in the Force indicating the arrival of a dark presence. The man had simply materialized, promptly reminding him of the inherent dangers involved when dealing with the Sith. Years of repressed trauma suddenly rose to the surface, and for a moment, he feared that he would become physically ill.

Fortunately, Natasi’s sharp wit and intellectual acuity saved him from an embarrassing outcome. She quickly intervened and confronted Krayt about his actions, enabling Aryan to clear his mind and regain control of his faculties. Her resolve served as an anchor, which he utilized to bolster his own confidence.

With his fingers still trembling, the Chancellor slipped his hand under the table and discreetly depressed a 'panic button' to alert security. While he doubted their effectiveness against a trained Sith Lord, they would still prove useful as a distraction. At the very least, it would expose Krayt’s true motivations.

"I suggest you heed the Grand Admiral’s advice," Aryan stated grimly, inclining his chin slightly. "We’ve entered a pact to serve as allies… and yet you’ve already betrayed that trust by forcing your way aboard this ship to presumably secure a dangerous weapon. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised by the circumstances; that a Sith would fail to uphold his word. I only regret not having the foresight to isolate it to this exact moment."

A slight shrug in heavyset armour. "The Jedi had knowledge of my whereabouts. So I simply was not there. That is all." A gruff smile. "I can only apologise for the imposition."

There was a sense of alarm coming from the Holocron in Aryan’s pocket. But it wasn’t directed at Krayt, nor the Tho Yor, nor the general danger of the Battle of Jakku. No, it was focused upon Natasi Daala.

Indeed, that danger was in the form of an incandescent rage, bubbling up within Daala. Some part of her loathed Darth Krayt, in a deeply and monstrously personal manner, as if he had cut at her skin, ruined her on a deep and base level. But it wasn’t her, it was something inside her.

Lain dormant for years.

Perhaps decades.

Pain; the pain of her face acquiring another monstrous shape, leering out from the side of her head as if another entity was tearing its way out, so enraged it sought her body and soul.

Daala would feel the lips on the left side of her face stretch, and her tongue would feel her teeth sharpen. She was still here, inside, but suddenly she knew that her body had used to gestate something; to hide within it a fragment of someone she had met long ago, that had unknowingly lived besides for a decade long before then.

Abeloth.

Krayt pulled a pair of lightsabers, they spat crimson, leaving a third on his waist, a paired one he had shared with Ahsoka Tano for the sole purpose of tracking her. The Holocron whispered at Aryan to grab the weapon with his mind -

Abeloth bid Daala to lunge at Krayt, demanded it, hissed at her to attack -

This was a violation on the most personal level. Daala was disgusted, and a level beyond furious that Abeloth would possess her. "I’ll do no such thing," she raged back at Abeloth’s hissed instructions.

"Aryan," Natasi gasped to get his attention. She had an idea but needed his help because Abeloth would try and stop her.

Daala had her blaster free, and she was trying to raise it to her temple. "Help me… I won’t allow this wretch to defile me, and we can stop her." He had to believe her, she would do anything to stop the evil that threatened to devour her… and likely Aryan next. Did he understand that Natasi was asking him to kill her?

Krayt was all but forgotten as she fought back against Abeloth. She didn’t like asking Aryan for help, Daala was independent and would do this on her own terms if she could. But, this was different, they had to do all they could to keep from setting another threat loose on the galaxy.

Aryan was suddenly aware of the darkness, which was his first indication that something was terribly wrong. It infiltrated his senses with a short, violent burst of unbridled rage. However, as it permeated the Force, he quickly realized that it was more than an impalpable manifestation; it seemed to scream inside his mind with a feral intensity. He could physically feel the raw emotion slamming into his being, forcing him to his feet in a desperate urgency to escape.

Unfortunately, Aryan found that he could not maintain his stamina after the initial adrenaline rush faded from his system. His weakened muscles caused him to waver a few times before stumbling back and collapsing into the adjacent wall.

From there, he watched helplessly as Natasi’s grotesque transformation began. Her face twisted sideways as her mouth and lips stretched beyond their natural limitations, revealing teeth that elongated into sharpened needles. As each monstrous modification took shape, Aryan sank a little lower to the floor, utterly horrified by the scene unfolding before him. He didn’t know what was happening or why.

What had Natasi done to deserve such a terrible fate?

And was it possible that Darth Krayt had known this would happen? Had he infiltrated their ship to warn them?

While answers continued to elude him, one little snippet of memory managed to rise back to the surface to provide some insight. He recalled a conversation between Daala and himself on Wavett about an ancient entity who had evaded the Jedi’s watch. She was beyond powerful and extremely dangerous—

Before Aryan could fully compose his thoughts, he felt a slight needling at the back of his mind; a whisper that spoke to him in soothing tones as it offered instruction and intuition. It encouraged him to reach out with his latent Force abilities to retrieve the lightsaber from Krayt’s belt.

At first, he had difficulty pinpointing the source. Was it merely his mind trying to compensate for the overabundance of psychological trauma he had endured today? If so, he feared that it was a sign of imminent relapse.

But wait…

No.

It had a distinct personality, a pulse within the Force.

That’s when he recognized it as the Holocron, prompting him to squeeze the pyramidal shape that resided in his jacket pocket.

Sistros, he relayed through his thoughts. Welcome back.

The revelation brought him comfort and strength—almost as if he had discovered a long-lost friend after years of separation. It was everything he needed at this moment, and he did not hesitate as he inhaled deeply and extended his hand toward the saber’s hilt. It swayed lightly in the currents of his grip, but despite his efforts, he could not fully recall it to his hand. He was either too impaired by all the distractions or out of practice—perhaps both.

With a defeated sigh, Aryan began to slump back against the wall once more…

… until he heard Natasi’s desperate plea for help.

Her voice sounded distant and garbled due to her ordeal, but there was true despair evident in her tone. She was repulsed by what this ancient beast had done to her; that it would violate her in such a way and utilize her as a pawn. It was contrary to everything Natasi Daala stood for, and she would not tolerate such a fate… which left her with only one option.

Aryan pressed his lips into a thin line and lifted his chin, forcing himself to meet her gaze despite the monstrous mutilations. He held it for a long moment, silently conveying his understanding and regret. He supposed he recognized why she would want to end her own life—but it wouldn’t make the process any easier.

In fact, the Chancellor was stubborn; he wouldn’t surrender and allow this entity to fully consume his lover and partner.

It was that same determination that spurred him into action.

Straightening his posture, Aryan extended his hand toward the lightsaber once more and envisioned the silver hilt in his grasp. He could feel the weight against his palm, his fingers wound tightly around the smooth surface. With a strong outpouring of energy, he exerted his will and pulled backward.

The hilt wobbled and jumped into his hand, and in the next instant, the emerald blade snapped to brilliant life.

Sistros approved, a quiet spot in his mind.

Daala's finger was frozen in-place, and Abeloth reared, a second head forming from her neck, a tentacle looping around her wrist.

"No, no, my dear. That will not do."

Darth Krayt hesitated; this was not a rematch against Abeloth with him and Skywalker. Aryan could not be compared... but perhaps Abeloth could not, either, as weakened as she was.

Strong enough to kill them all, however... likely.

Abeloth turned the hand and fired at Krayt, who reflected the bolt into the ceiling, grimacing.

Sistros could feel Krayt's concern ebb into the Force, ebb into Aryan, and spoke up. No, you can do this. As if to assure him, the lightsaber blazed, the Kyber connected with Aryan and memories he did not know he had. The Kyber turned blue, the blade a sapphire of colour. You can do this because you need to only make Daala remember.

It shared a truth.

That hidden away inside the Holocron of Sistros had been something Aryan forgot about mislaying.

A dose of refrain; the memory drug. An overdose.

Make her remember who she is.

Sistros had saved it for Aryan, for when he was ready to remember.

The door to the room opened, though, at the sound of the blaster bolt. It was Lyz, looking concerned. "I followed you two, yes, I know I should not but what was that -"

She opened her mouth into a wordless scream and Abeloth looped a tentacle of Daala's waist to take her throat. "Oh, I see how much this woman enrages you, Natasi. Why not embrace me, and kill her... take Aryan as your own, destroy this Krayt, this Snoke, and you'll become great and grand, the Goddess you deserve to be."

Abeloth was digging deep into the dark parts of her, encouraging her to strike out, to give Abeloth fertile ground…

"No!" She couldn’t physically push back, but she would resist doing anything Abeloth wanted.

"Aryan… Lyz…" Daala’s voice was strangled. "Please?" They had to understand that she was too proud to be humiliated by this abomination. "Kill her…" her chest heaving with each word she spoke. "Lyz!" Natasi had freed her vibroblade concealed within her sleeve, the cold metal slipped into her hand and she quickly tried to stab at the tentacle threatening Lyz.

Her field of vision was narrowed, probably from the intense pain that had engulfed her. It felt like the witch was determined to rip her inside out, but through her dimming eyes, she saw Aryan’s face drenched in a glowing blue… why?

"Get off me, bitch!"

Sistros spoke, unleashing a torrent of knowledge that inundated Aryan’s mind, body, and soul. The experience was not too dissimilar from what he had endured under White Eyes' cruel embrace, when the mysterious man had tortured him by implanting a series of diverging memories into his head. It had been the catalyst that sparked his psychosis, breaking his mind and spiraling him into madness.

For a moment, he faltered, fearful that he would succumb to the onslaught and lose himself all over again. He hadn’t been equipped to handle it then—what made him think he would be able to handle it now?

And yet, a certain disparity gave him pause; something that hadn’t been there before. White Eyes’ efforts had clearly been malicious in their intent. He could recall the pain and anguish that had weakened his spirit and allowed the Sith entity to assume control.

But now, as he closed his eyes and breathed, Aryan only felt a sense of calm. The information he gleaned from the Holocron afforded him insight that went beyond the purview of basic human understanding, allowing him to become transcendent and free. He gained a fundamental awareness of himself and his heritage. Instead of terror, he actually savored the almost euphoric rush as he tried to process it all—but he knew that any attempts to do so would be counterproductive at this juncture, if not downright impossible. There was simply too much for one mind to assimilate.

He knew everything!

About himself and his different iterations scattered across the various realities.

About the Protectors, including Tera, Bellorum, Dunkeel, and his other companions.

About the Master… and the multiverse itself.

And about Sistros.

It was the name of his true self; he was Sistros.

Aryan should have been surprised by the revelation, but somehow he had always known. Perhaps it was the Force or merely his own intuition, but it certainly made sense under the circumstances. It helped him to center his thoughts and find focus. He had become wise to his limitations; secure in his abilities. He finally felt whole.

It was with this renewed vitality that he willed himself to his feet and prepared to engage the evil temptress that was Abeloth. Natasi’s life hung in the balance.

Reaching into his jacket pocket with his free hand, Aryan retrieved the Refrain from the hidden compartment beneath the Holocron’s pyramidal frame. He found it exactly as his ancestor had described it; a single vial and a syringe. Prior to his awakening, the drug’s hallucinogenic properties would have likely tempted him to break his sobriety—but the impulse was no longer there. He was at ease.

And so, the Chancellor loaded the injector and called upon the Force to augment his movements, utilizing it to counteract his physical impairments so that he could cross the distance to Natasi without depending on his cane. It was a slow process, but he eventually found himself within striking range.

At this point, Lyz and Darth Krayt existed only in his peripheral vision; they were fleeting shadows at the edge of his awareness. He could not afford any external distractions, not if he wanted to save Natasi. The Holocron was insistent about making her remember—remember what, he couldn’t be certain. He would need to trust his ancestor’s perceptions on that one.

Steeling himself, Aryan inclined his chin and shouted at the monstrous beast that had encapsulated Daala’s form. "Hey, over here!"

He expected Abeloth to attack, prompting him to pivot on his heel and spin away as he opened himself fully to the Force’s nourishing power. Allowing it to fill every facet of his being, he swiped down with the azure blade to slice through one of the writhing tentacles. He intended to cause her pain as a diversion, hoping that it would grant him enough time to administer the drug.

Aryan did not stop to think or to assess whether he had caused her any injury. He merely lunged forward, unconcerned that such a move could potentially result in irreparable damage to his already ailing legs. He had to rely on the Force to guide his actions and see him through safely.

With a sharp intake of breath, he sunk the syringe deep into the exposed flesh of her neck and quickly depressed the plunger to dispense the contents.

TAG: @Lady_Belligerent; @Sinrebirth

 

IC: Poe Dameron
Flaming Falcon

They’d taken hits.



More hits than the Millennium Falcon had taken since the Battle of Coruscant, which made Poe, fundamentally, angry. The enemy shots were too accurate, too perfect, and with the crew having been advancing at now small percentage of lightspeed, it was impossible for anyone but him to make those kind of hits.

Without the Force, anyway.

And what was the likelihood of the crew of a Star Destroyer having Force sensitive gunners?

The Jedi had lost half their landing force before they’d even cleared atmo; he’d lost track of the personal ships of Tirran Huxley and Barriss Offee, but when Poe was flying half a ship - alone, because Chewbacca was running a dozen repairs to keep the Falcon flying - he couldn’t be blamed for being unable to keep track through sand, flame and a sky thick with TIE Daggers.

He’d crashed on Jakku at the start of this war, and met Finn, and here he was, crashing all over again, and Finn was missing. He’d snuck off, like Rey, headed to who knew where. Not here, he hoped. Ajan Kloss, maybe, so he didn’t need to worry about how he’d not heard from Connix, or Lando, or Rose, or Zorii for days. Maybe they’d gone to take out Snoke, while he trapped them all here with his Celestial tech.

And by all, Poe knew it was all of them. Whatever Adumari hadn’t committed, he knew they’d shredded themselves at Mon Calamari and Kamino, and so what was left was here. The Resistance, Rhoen, Tiber, Zara; the Jedi, Ahsoka, Ennic, Eeth; the Remnant; Aryan; Daala, whatever Imperial warlord wanted their piece of Snoke, even damn Sith like Talon - and everyone in between. All caught up in the Battle of Jakku.

But to what end? That’s what Poe couldn’t figure out, because a trap was only so good without a good punchline, and Palpatine’s traps had been topped off by Death Stars and Sith armadas. Snoke was cut from the same cloth, no matter how special Rey said he thought he was - there was a big gun somewhere, pointed at them, but it wasn’t firing?

The General part of his mind scrambled. He knew Snoke had lost Kamino and his Resurrection ship, that must have at least damaged his clone projects; most of the Eclipse Fleet had been shredded; the Knights of Ren had been flirting around, tying up loose ends but by and large, by all accounts, dying and turning traitor; the Battles of Mon Calamari, Roon and Arkinnea had brought the galaxy out in force against Snoke, and their efforts had seen him abandon the offensive on Mon Calamari - or was it all a glorious feint? Everything up to now nothing more than bait for Jakku?

Had they been eating out of Snoke’s palm all along?

Just when did he turn on Palpatine?

Before Exegol?

Before the war even began?

Poe wished Rey had said more, but she’d clearly been scarred by her touch with the dark. Even then… Poe resented that so much of his life was in the hands of what was essentially a fight between her, Snoke and whatever Kylo Ren was running around. Between the three of them, they were carving up the galaxy, and the Jedi and Sith were pushing that…

Shaking his head and diving behind a bevy of TIE Daggers and wincing as the Falcon loudly complained, Chewbacca roared at him and came padding up to the cockpit, fuming that Poe needed to keep them steady or all his repairs would come apart.

Poe ignored him, pointed at something that was appearing from the underside of the distant Star Destroyer. They looked like sleek, black droids -



Shadow droids, Chewbacca rumbled, and briefly explained how Palpatine had saved the brains of fallen Imperial fighter aces, charged them with the dark side, and hooked them up to droid chassis's.

"Oh I don't like that," Poe said, feeling physically sick.

Chewbacca pointed out that was probably how the gunners of that Destroyer had shot so many of them down.

"So what you're telling me is that we need to get out of the sky."

A short pause, and Poe wondered if Chewbacca was thinking of his family, somewhere in the middle of all this. Lumpawaroo, Lowbacca, the rest. He'd already lost Han, Luke and Leia, and more before then. With a sigh, Chewbacca took the copilot seat and began activated crash measures.

Poe nodded, and dove.

As he did, though, it seemed as if the surface of Jakku was coming up a bit too quickly. A lot too quickly.

And it was, the sand breaking to reveal something big, pointed and black, right in the middle of the Imperial deployment.

Sharply angling the Falcon above the surface and arming all of his remaining concussion missiles, Poe had a wisecrack armed when the Shadow Droids caught up with them.

The Falcon went down into the sands, transforming them into glass.

Vestara Khai, the young woman who had herself gone down at the start of this battle, was positioned behind the Jedi lines atop a small outcropping and wincing into a stomach wound. She looked up at the rising monolith, knowing that one of the very few people who could stop it was inside and not responding. She found herself not thinking of her Knight of Ren, Ap’lek, but of her Ben. Ben Skywalker.

It was the Sith Contingency, revealed in full form.

Their Hidden Temple.



What now?

 

@HanSolo29, @darthbernael, @CosmoHender, @adaml83, @Lady_Belligerent, @Silvertough, @Mitth_Fisto, @galactic-vagabond422, @Adalia-Durron, @Mistress_Renata

 

@Sarge, @ConservativeJedi321, @darthhelinith, @greyjedi125, @TheAdmiral

 

Fin