A read-only archive of discourse.darkjedibrotherhood.com as of Sunday May 01, 2022.

[CNS][CSP][Red Fury] The Tides of War


This runon competition will take place in one thread for both Clans. There will be three objectives for the first half of the competition, and additional objectives will be revealed at the halfway mark of the competition, on the 15th of the month. You will be judged individually on how well you work with other members of the Clans, write your character and theirs, as well as on creativity and syntax. Posts must be a minimum of 250 words and you must post at least twice to qualify for placement.

Initial Objectives:

Although we do not expect the pirates to give us much resistance, we have outlined three key objectives to complete initially. These will ensure that our enemies do not escape and are unable to retaliate.

Objective 1: Secure the Hangar A team must immediately make their way to the pirate’s main hangar and secure it. We know that the pirates are protecting it with at least one aging LAAT gunship and several stationary turrets. Their shuttles and transports must not be allowed to leave. Defeat the defenses, and ensure the pirates can no longer make use of the hangar.

Objective 2: Assault on the Control Room: A team must make their way to the pirate’s main control center. We require access to the files contained in their main computer and these must be secured at all cost. We anticipate that elite members and leaders of the pirates will be here, and they are sure to be heavily armed. Retrieve the information by any means necessary.

Objective 3: Disrupt Communications A team must ensure that the pirates are unable to communicate with any forces they may have off the moon. Our initial scout reports indicate a communications array located nearby the pirate base, but off to the side. We have determined that the best method of approaching this base is over the moon’s rocky terrain itself. You will be provided with ground vehicles for this operation, as well as some troops. We anticipate that whatever armour the pirates may have cobbled together will be defending this position, along with anti personnel and anti armour turrets.


The Bottom
Tombs of Orian
Inos 42
Orian System

The air was hot and dense. So far down in the guts of this earthquake-wracked moon, the temperature rose high. The air smelled of rock dust and twisted stone in this fell womb of the Dark Side. Macron squatted on his heels, armor completely off, meditating. He had encountered many creatures on his way down so far and deep. The anger and hatred swam in his soul. He had completed some truly hard tasks for the Dark Council, and after the switch of leadership all of the people that worked on the projects were summarily cast aside. Such was the way of politics. He had cast off the position of Proconsul and fled to the Tombs in pure disgust.

The hate flowed through him like a raging red river. The Sith Elder had never hated so deeply, or so purely before. It was a real struggle not to lose himself to bloody rage. His former compatriots had left to return to the surface, and the madman had continued his dungeon delve. He had to know. He had to see what was down here, and feel the power of the Dark Side that percolated through these ancient tunnels. It was purification, a vision quest, his umbral solace. He had found the literal end of the deepest tunnels and stayed there for weeks.

There was a Sith Wyrm down here and it had left him alone strangely. Perhaps it recognized it’s own twisted mutational kin. There were red adegans down here, but he no longer cared to harvest them for anyone but himself. They had previously been sent to the Dark Council. For nothing. “Let them come and get them for themselves”, whispered the madman as he placed his naked hands on the living stone to feel the vibrations that trickled through it. “They have shown me the way. Congratulations. I have never hated this much before. It gives me… power.”

His neck prickled. It was not… any of the obscene things that lived down here. He had come to uneasy equilibrium with them. No, this was something else. His Clan needed him. “I don’t give a good god-damn about the Brotherhood after the way they treated me,” growled the Sith as he stood. “Even so. Clan Naga Sadow has been my only home and family.” His one yellow and one squamous eye closed as he felt in the Force for his destiny. “I must rise up and serve.”


Office of the Rollmaster
Temple of Sorrow
Sepros, Orian System

The chair of the Clan Rollmaster has held many owners throughout the passage of time. Each of these had brought their own personality, their own uniqueness to the role. Often these traits were made manifest through the means with which they adorned their office. As was the way with living beings, often the areas they devote their time to become visible representations of their inner selves.

Anima’s office, on the other hand, was a barren wasteland.

Only the necessities were present in the form of a functioning desk covered in a scattered mess of datapads. The lights were perpetually inactive, not because they were malfunctioning but mostly because the genetically modified Umbaran had no use for them.

“-ensure they’re relayed to Tasha’Vel and Darkblade. The Black Guard know their role by now but Sang will need to be alerted that one has been assigned.” Anima finished speaking, not to himself but actually into the communicator built into the desk. With a quick motion, his hand toggled the commlink off and returned the room to silence. The Sith’s eyes closed as he leaned back and let out a long breath.

The darkness of the room was unceremoniously broken as the entryway hissed open, the artificial light from the hallway painting the room with its glow. The shadow of a man disrupted the light’s path as he entered, the door shutting behind him and once more allowing darkness to claim all. The man stood utterly still for a moment, neither himself nor Anima making any effort to speak.

The Rollmaster was the first to move, leaning forward with an aggravated sigh. Placing his elbows hard against the desk with his clasped hands planted firmly against his chin, Anima fixed his mismatched gaze upon the blindfolded man that dared to break his solitude. Methyas L’eonheart’s lips twitched at the corner, belying the grin he fought not to reveal as his head tilted curiously. He listened carefully, artificially enhancing his senses through the Force, and formed a picture without eyes. The telltale humming of powered illumination was completely absent from the room, telling the blind Miraluka all he needed to know.

“Awfully dark in here, Rollmaster,” Methyas muttered with his usual, and entirely infuriating, calmness.

“Yeah well, neither of us have much need for the light,” Anima quipped, “isn’t that right, Blind Man?”

The Miraluka allowed himself a slight chuckle as he turned in the direction of the man who had once been his apprentice. “It’s easy to forget how much those eyes of yours see, old friend.”

Anima tilted his head to the side, his lip curling up ever so slightly to reveal his canine teeth as the hint of a growl escaped his throat. “If you’re looking for an update, as you can see the infiltration goes positively swimmingly… Not that it’s hard when you wear the face of an old leader.”

Methyas watched without seeing as Anima leaned back and folded his arms across his chest, no longer looking directly at his old master. “You have more than his face.”

“The lights weren’t on upstairs anymore, as they say, and I moved in.” Anima responded quickly, cutting off the topic before it could truly begin. “So what brings you then? I’m sure you know the mess we’re heading into. For that matter, I’m sure you heard all the reports before they even reached Locke.”

Methyas shifted his weight between his legs, allowing himself time to think before forming his words. “I find in this situation I can no longer keep to myself, and I seek to assist as I am able.”

“I’d say you’re welcome to give a hand, but you’re probably still using the arm.”

More than accustomed to the perpetual sarcasm on offer from Naga Sadow’s Rollmaster, Methyas didn’t bother reacting and merely remained where he stood. After a few moments, Anima let out a long sigh and rose to his feet. “Come on then, old man. The Journeymen have their marching orders and I’d hate to miss all the fun.”

Without another spoken word, Anima navigated the obstacles assuming the guise of his furniture with ease and the pair left the office to its clinging darkness, heading towards the nearby hangers. Anima’s voice carried softly into the room as the door was sliding closed.

“So… You’re still set on the whole ‘don’t kill our allies’ thing?”

“Yup,” came Methyas’ quick response.



MJHC Damnation
System A1-X3

Sith Warlord Robert Sadow leaned against a hangar wall watching members of Clan Naga Sadow disembark towards the surface below while puffing on his shento cigar. The mission was a relatively simple one compared to wars of past, but the added factor of a rival clan involved easily turning it into a mess did not escape the thoughts of the aged Sith.

“Sapphire is ready when you are Commander,” Sergeant Scarlet stated interrupting the Sith’s thoughts.

Glancing over at the awaiting shuttle, Bob nodded at Guardian Bentre who was finishing gearing up tucking away his vibroknife into his boot before boarding. “I do believe Sapphire is indeed ready Sergeant. “ The Bpfasshi female gave a grin that comes from youth and spun to board the shuttle with her dark long hair spinning in the air behind her.

The Sith took one last puff on his cigar, dropped it onto the hangar floor and smashed it with his boot. Exhaling the foul stench of smoke, Bob walked up the ramp onto the shuttle.

“Listen up Sapphire,” Bob began, “Our objective on this fine morning is to kill some pirates. Apparently they have some files that our higher ups want and we are going to get them. Now I’m sure we will run into some other interference during this objective and I do mean that inferior clan that is hanging around to most likely just get in our way.”

The hiss of the ship’s door closing and engines firing up caused the Sith to speak even louder, “Our orders are clear, we are working alongside CSP today. However, if a situation would occur I remind you one thing; no witnesses.”

The Sith Warlord pulled out a flask containing god only knows what kind of poison, “Now let’s complete our assigned mission and remember to keep an eye out for pirate booty as my booze is almost gone.”


Armoured Interface Craft-4, DLC1-5
System A1-X3

The rumble of the engines reverberated throughout the shuttle, highlighting the inadequate soundproofing of the craft. Sanguinius sat in quiet contemplation, the Jedi meditating on the task ahead. His presence had been demanded by the Consul in this punitive campaign against the pirates, despite the fact that the Quaestor had no interest in this little tussle. Sanguinius had no doubt that this was not what the Force demanded of him.

Added to his concern was the spy placed within his presence, sat beside him in the enclosed armour of the Black Guard. The Entar had been almost apopletic with anger at being saddled with a bodyguard, assassin and spy. He had complained to Anima, who had simply waved away his complaints with ill-disguised disdain. The Black Guard were nothing more than an executioner of their charges. The Anaxsi calmed his thoughts, his emotions placed in a mental box, locked away in his mind where they could not affect him.

Opposite the Quaestor sat the Battlemaster, Anima and his compatriot, Methyas L’eonheart. The friends and former Master and Student worked well together as a pair, their shared experiences bonding them just as they had done with Sanguinius and his former Master, Cethgus Entar. The other seats in the shuttle were filled by soldiers from the 1st Dark Light Company from the KSD Damnation and assorted Sadowans.

A familiar face to Tsucyra was seated five seats down from him, the Krath Priestess Syn, whom he had often discussed philosophy with while at the Shadow Academy on Lyspair. The two had many differing opinions, but he was pleased to see a familiar face.

The shuttle rumbled as laser fire erupted around it, the craft had been launched from the Damnation and was en-route to the target. Sanguinius and Anima had requested the target of the Control Room. Both of them had different reasons for this. Sang felt he could save more innocent lives this way, he was unsure of Anima’s, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

Each member of the team had a combead, allowing them access to the fleet communications and each other. Sanguinius activated his, listening into the com chatter between the two Brotherhood Star Destroyers and the pilots of the attacking shuttles. The pirates weren’t without defenses, unleashing a torrent of laser fire and concussion torpedoes from their base on the moon, forcing the pilots of the shuttles to undertake emergency manoeuvres. Some of the shuttles weren’t so lucky, with one missile scoring a direct hit. The unfortunate shuttle exploded, killing its inhabitants.

Their deaths in the Force were felt keenly by Sanguinius, his sorrow at their passing coloured his exchange with the Comms Officer on the Damnation. He raised his hand to allow him to speak, “Where’s our air cover, Damnation? We’re sitting Mynocks out here!”


Armored Interface Craft-4, DLC1-5
System A1-X3

Sitting mynocks?

Of all the things to hear after coming out of a deep reverie, that was certainly not what she’d expected to hear. Blinking, Syn glanced around at her surroundings and thought to herself that it was very possible for them all to die.

When she was originally contacted for this mission, she had assumed it was going to be simple; after all, it was supposed to be. Go in, secure the computers in the control room, get the information on them, and get out. Sure, the briefing had mentioned getting that information “by any means necessary”, but something in her soul had come to hate violence since the death of her son.

“I thought I asked about that air cover!” came Sang’s voice.

Here we go. If we don’t all die…

The world around her warped, the shuttle and the people in it becoming another time with other members of Naga Sadow surrounding her. Most of those people died then, why was anything different now?

Another time, another place, she reminded herself. Keep yourself grounded, these visions will pass.
Focus. Focus. Focus.

She closed her eyes as another shuttle exploded, feeling the deaths echo through her as reverberations in the Force. Now was not the time to be wrapped up in anything else but the mission.


She looked up, saw Sang. The Jedi’s presence had confused her since the beginning of her time in Brotherhood space, and it was probably something that would continue to bother her.

“Master Sang. Are we ready?”

A nod, and the mission began. With luck they would make it out alive.


Red Fury Moon
Riding on top of a T-1B Hover Tank

Delak had flipped on his holo communicator and an image of his Quaestor flashed to life. “Delak, the Sadowans are making their initial push towards the Red Fury hanger bay. We are going in with them. As you know you have been tasked with taking down the communications tower outside the facility. We are still an hour away from the main hangar. That should give you enough enough time to take down the tower. Naga Sadow is sending along their own forces to help you. They are led by Dark Jedi Knight Armad. He should meet up with you shortly. We are in an allegiance for now, but don’t forget your loyalties to Scholae and House Imperium. That is all.” Dante ended the transmission quickly.

Delak waited for atop the tank waiting for the Sadowan reinforcements. They finally arrived a short time later with forces of their own ready for the attack. Delak waved to Armad and pointed in the direction of the enemy comm tower. Their next objective, destroy any chance these bloody pirates have for reinforcement from other systems. This is where the battle would be won. The men nodded at one another and dismounted their respective vehicles as Delak pulled out a holo projection of the comm tower. Now was the time to plan the best method of attack.

“What do you think Armad?” Delak asked as he stood there waiting for the Dark Jedi’s reply.


Upper Atmosphere

The nervous laughter brought about by Bob’s lament was soon silenced by rising anxiety as the shuttle screamed towards the surface of the planetoid, deftly skirting the curtain of anti-air fire the pirates had hastily thrown up in defense. Death and destruction abruptly spiced the Force, and Shi Long could scarcely restrain his excitement, as evidenced by his bronzed fingers impatiently drumming the stock of the slugthrower at his thigh.

Casting his eyes about the craft, the Long watched the members of Sapphire Squadron going through customary routines as gear and loadouts were checked and rechecked and the pilot’s incessant status updates crackled tinnily through their comm systems. Some faces were familiar to him; most were not, but Shi had some hope he’d come to know each of them before this mission would end, if not afterwards.

That is, if they had sense enough to stay behind him once the dying started. Those new to the Force and new to combat would be destroyed before their time, seemingly wise beyond their years but far too eager to make their mark in Naga Sadow’s name.

“May he forever be sanctified, ay-men,” Shi chuckled to himself, perhaps a bit louder than he intended as the Primarch noted several heads snapping towards him, Bob’s included. Shi returned the old man’s stare with an easy wink and a nod. Perhaps the Sith shared the sentiment of his earlier thoughts, Shi mused; Bob’s own eyes had seen scores of youngsters cut down in their prime, the twinkle belying an annoyance of having to replenish his ranks time and again due to a failure to follow commands not meant to stifle, but to ensure survival.

Shi liked Bob, truly. Unlike most Darksiders, Sapphire’s commander was affable and had an easy nature, seeming to enjoy revelry as much as Shi enjoyed fighting. The Long respected passion, if nothing else. Still, there were beings below who needed killing and that was Shi’s stock in trade. The minutia, he’d leave to Bob, and the squadron would need to follow the Sith’s lead if they were to reap the fruits of his labor. But, would they?

‘All things in the fullness of time,’ Shi thought with an inward grin, the paraphrased saying of a dead man playing across his psyche as the shuttle plummeted ever closer towards the pirate’s hangar.


MJHC Damnation
System A1-X3
Upper Atmosphere

There were always some things about wars that most people couldn’t get unless they’ve seen for themselves. Surely, one of them was the pull of uniting those who were apparently uneven and apart into a real group.

But not this one, was the thought the grizzled human at the ship’s corner while he tried to adjust an improvised piece of armor. At least, not with those guys, anyways.

Bob, or Commander Robert Sadow, had gone great lenghts to try and locate his old comrade. Most of the Shar Dakhan’s Summit had dismissed it as unnecessary or inconsequential, but there was something else to it, even if the elder, who had long since abandoned the trappings of his past, could not say out loud.

At first, Robert imagined he’d managed it, he would finally be able to put some of his schemes in motion, to at last try to cleanse the decadence he sensed surrounding him, but when he found the rogue hermit, he saw it. Decadence was not exclusive to the House or the Clan, but had permeated everything. That man in front of him held no answers, just added to the questions. He had no other options but to make do with he’d found, though.

Bob looked through the ship’s bay, where all of his Sapphire Squadron had assembled. He sure was proud of what he was trying to accomplish there, but he had to be certain. The telephatic link took some effort now, after all those years, but his power had increased tenfold. Scithe, buddy, we are close to landing now. Hope you’ll honor your end on our agreement.

The ship rocked back and forth, shaked by the laser coming from the moon, but the shields would hold. Inside it, the aging human grimaced as if his scars were bothering him while he donned his boots. Never looking back at his commander, the reply was curt, almost offensive. I can go back on my own and leave you all there if that’s what you want.

Bob squinted his eyes, holding it long enough to not say it out loud. Not now, you egocentric bastard. We have a deal, and I’ll see it through. Remember it.

The Battlemaster finished buckling the last strap and stood, his eyes barely meeting his commander’s. It’s you who should remember. This is not MY house, this is not MY fight. Heck, that’s not even Sapphire. It’s a mockery of an old memory, despite you and Malik thinking otherwise. His head bowed, as if frustration took place. You got plenty of veterans here to do your bidding. You didn’t need me to deal with some lousy pirates. I know exactly what I’m here to do. Chill out, I’ll play along.

There was a war coming, but not the kind that unites people. It was the opposite kind. Those pirates were only another excuse, just another trophy for some overinflated ego sitting across the galaxy while the blind threw stones at one another.


Red Fury Moon
T-1B Hover Tank

Excitement and the thrill of battle coursed through the veins of the Dark Jedi, and of the soldiers, radiating into the air around them. The hover tank itself itched with anticipation, fingers rapped on blaster rifles, fingertips ran across llightsaber hilts, minds drifting to battles of old, battles of future, envisaging their heroic victories, the epic moves that would lead to the decimation of the foe ahead. The scientist was easy to miss.

Her brow furrowed, togruta Dr. Elincia Rei spent the transportation time in a futile attempt to keep a datapad still as the tank traversed rocky terrain. The troops and Jedi generally ignored her as they shared tall tales of previous battles, which was fine by her. She had too many secrets, a too dark a past to risk exposure unnecessary social interaction with the Dark Jedi. She only spoke up when she needed to provide and scientific advice. Sent with the group to ensure complete elimination of communications and to provide support in the field, she came prepared with a mix of poisons, medicines and explosives held inside a dirty off-white labcoat.

From the viewport she saw the Sadowan force merge into formation, a Dark Jedi at forefront that she recognised from her research as Armad. “We’re not expecting much resistance,” said a voice above the engine noise. The tip of the communications tower began to peak over the jagged horizon. It was lightly guarded and clearly unprepared for the strength of the incoming force. “We go in hard, hit ‘em harder and be the only ones left alive at the end,” he said with a relaxed, easy-going tone and mannerism that Elincia had seen many times before. Easy going until the fight starts. She was sure that once the lightsaber snaps into life, that calm demeanour would change entirely into one of fierce determination.

“Prepare for combat!” called Delak, uniquely positioned on the top of the tank to be the first one to see everything.


Red Fury Moon
Approaching the Comm Tower

Behind him, Sadowan shuttles landed in the distance and disgorged the eager warriors of the Clan. Ahead of him, a set of tanks closed rapidly on the comm tower. He had not come here at anyone’s orders, and had not been in touch with the Clan leadership in weeks. The Dark Side had drawn him here.

The Sith Adept was not powerful enough to destroy those who had broken his soul and betrayed his trust, but perhaps in creating carnage with his brethren some impermanent solace could be found. At least he could forget for a while and revel in his hatred. It was an unfortunate truth that honor and love had been a weakness of his in the past. The time spent in the cold embrace of the Dark Side site he had just left had erased that flaw nicely.

The madman was uncharacteristically quiet as he mounted a speederbike. No laughter, no taunts, no screams of bloodthirsty rage. There was only a tightness around his mismatched eyes as he touched the stud that lowered his helm face-plate. Readouts began to scroll across it as he contemplated the gem in his hand.

The adegan sparkled a bloody red. It was one of the stones that the former Tsainetomo had marked as his own down to mine out in the Tombs of Orian. He had not come back for it. Like many things… left behind as situations changed. The madman dropped it into a belt pouch and snapped the holder closed. He would see to it that the stone was returned to the one who wore his friend’s visage.

Macron could sense his apprentice Armad nearby along with many other Dark Jedi. This was good. The Alchemist’s foot kicked the starter switch and the speederbike came to life. As many people as were infernally possible were going to die by his hand this day. If he had seemed a demon of slaughter in the past, it was but a pale shade of the destruction he would now wreak. There would be no mercy. No quarter. Nothing but pure, uncut, deliberate evil.

One armored hand gripped the handlebars, and the other a vicious lightsaber hilt. It snapped to life with an orange scream as the bike surged forward. The comm center would be taken. Woe be unto anyone who got in his way.


KSD Damnation

The drop hangar was a bustle of activity in preparation for the assault on the Red Fury moon. The 2nd Cavalry Company was securing the AT-AT into the Theta barge, and the AT-ST’s ready to be picked up by the LAATs. The Night Raptors were off to one side double checking their gear on last time, Dark Jedi Knight Armad had already triple checked his gear, so was now flipping through his datapad at the latest surface scans. Armad was formulating preliminary plans when he felt a very strong, familiar presence through the Force growing near. It was his Master, and the closer that he drew near, the more his Master’s’ anger bled through the Force. An alarm blared, jumping him out of his thoughts, and a voice came across announcing that there was 5 minutes until deployment.

Red Fury Moon
Approaching the Comm Tower

As Armad and Delak were discussing the best options they had for getting close enough to take out the main array to stop any initial communications out, the rest of the forces that each had brought with them were getting into formation for their march towards the comm tower. They had finally settled on a plan that would have the each group descending upon the tower from two different angles to maximize their chances of hitting the comm array fast enough to stop any and all communications from escaping, then advancing on the tower’s control room to make sure that they were quick enough.

During the planning, Armad felt his Master make it to the planet, his anger was so great the it was threatening to overwhelm him, and he seemed to be coming directly towards him. “Excellent!” Armad thought, having his Master’s experience and power added to the mix would tip the odds more in their favor. A nearby trooper, who was monitoring sensors, declared that there was a speeder approaching from the rear, and Armad concluded that that must be his Master come to join them. The closer that he came, the more worried Armad got. Macron’s anger was almost palpable, and he was definitely not slowing down. Armad hastily pulled out his comlink and barked orders to get the AT-AT moving at full speed toward the comm tower, as his Master streaked by in a red and orange blur. Not knowing what his Master had planned did worry him a bit, but Armad hoped that it would be enough of a distraction that the comm tower forces would be focused more on him than on the forces bearing down on them.

Turning to Delak, Armad advised him, “Stick with the plan, this might work in our favor,” as he turned and started running towards the nearest AT-ST, Force leaping up onto the top. Armad gave the order for the rest of his group to move out. Making his way into the cab of the AT-ST, Armad smirked and urged his Master through the Force to not kill all the tower’s forces, it would be a shame to have brought all these troops for nothing.


Delak watched as the Sadowan Master of Armad launched his speeder straight at the pirates coming from the communication towers made platform. He flew his speeder right into the middle of them jumping off and flipping backwards landing on one of the pirate troopers. The man fell flat as if all the life had been squeezed out of him. The Master drove his saber into the back of the man’s skull. Delak could tell he was enjoying this immensely. He could feel the anger and rage and excitement flowing through the force. Delak stuck his head into the tanks entry hatch.

“Dr. Rei. It’s time.” Delak announced.

“It will be done Delak.” Rei replied.

Rei took control of the tanks main cannon and took aim at the base of the comm tower. She squeezed the trigger gently and launched a projectile deep into the base. There was an explosion, and another and another. The tower was still standing but it was getting heavily damaged. From his perch atop the tank Delak could see the Sadowan AT-ST and AT-AT moving forward. He decided he didnt want to sit here idle while the Sadowans had all the fun. He ordered his tanks to all open fire at will. He ordered the ground troopers sitting on top of all the tanks to attack.

Delak took his saber in hand and ignited it with a snap hiss as the crimson blade sprung to life. He leaped from the tank and headed straight into the firefight. He deflected a couple of blaster bolts off to the side as he ran. He jumped high in the air and stabbed his saber straight down into the chest of the nearest pirate trooper. He grinned as the man moaned in agony. Delak watched as a couple more shells flew overhead and hit the comm tower. Soon it would be going down.


KSD Damnation
System A1-X3

Time. Galleros had very little of it right now, as he made his way storming through the bustling soldiers and Dark Jedi into the hangar of the Damnation. His eyes set on the shuttle just setting off, which included Armad the other Umbaran in the Clan and a set of troopers accounted in his command. He could feel the a Sith infused anger leaking from the metal hull, not one belonging to the Dark Jedi knight himself. Desperate to find a shuttle for himself, the Zelosian looked around and noticed a spare pilot refueling another shuttle. Galleros jogged towards him and tapped his shoulder.

“Prepare for launch, I’m assembling a team that you need to drop off two clicks south of the Hangar of the Red Fury moon base.” The Quaestor shouted over the shuttle’s jet engines.

The pilot saluted, then opened the shuttle and continued his repair work on the circuits inside. Galleros marched up the ramp with his hands tightening the plates on his Shadow Academy armour. It has been awhile since he wore this, but the Zelosian felt it was necessary in order to deliver the message, a message of who he represented and why it was a terrible idea for the pirates to deliver their initial blow on the trade several days back. The Quaestor approached the console at the front, then swiped his gauntlet across to activate the holo-communications. He brought up the directory for Devil’s Shroud and a hologram of a dark-robed Epicanthix sizzled to life.

“Marcus, we’ve got work to do. Grab some warriors and meet me in the Shuttle bay at the very back. Grab your Sergeant for a starter, try not to disappoint me with your choices. I’m not cleaning up your unskilled allies.” The Quaestor flicked the projection offline and then began working on filling the lockers with weaponry.

Pilot! Order us some troopers, we need the best we have left. If all your trained commandos haven’t been taken already.” Galleros shouted down the ramp, to which the pilot stumbled and sprinted away to the sitting Commander in the shuttle bay.

For all things, a time and place. For all people, a price.


Officer’s Quarters
KSD Damnation
System A1-X3

A complete mess. That’s what Marcus was looking at, his whole desk was a pile of paperwork, transfer orders, requisitions and performance-analyses. If I’d known there’d be this much paperwork I wouldn’t have taken the damned job. It was bad enough that they’d pulled him from his planning to participate in this, this mission, but now they wouldn’t give him the resources he’d requested. Mentally scouring the information available to him, attempting to focus on the task at hand, his holocom activated. The armored green form of his Quaestor, Galleros Sjl, appeared before him on the desk.

“Marcus, we’ve got work to do. Grab some warriors and meet me in the Shuttle bay at the very back. Grab your Sergeant for a starter, try not to disappoint me with your choices. I’m not cleaning up your unskilled allies.” Simply nodding before cutting the transmission, Marcus grabbed his comlink off his belt, keying a personal frequency. “Daedric. Rear shuttlebay, 10 minutes. Prep for stealth, bring your best.”

The frequency was a little something his Sergeant had thought up, encrypted with the highest of standards, used to keep in touch without anyone listening in, which helped considering the nature of most of their missions. Walking to a locker in the corner Marcus grabbed a dark robe from its innards and moved his lightsaber from his belt to the holster on his sleeve, making sure that it couldn’t be seen by someone who didn’t know it was there. Quickly leaving his office, he almost ran into a Chiss officer. “Ah Dorel, I’ll be off-base. You handle that mess in my office.” The Chiss blinked for a second, then saluted. “Of course Sir.” Returning the salute, Marcus sped off towards the rear of the ship.

Get in, cause havoc, get out. This should be easy.


Auxilary Corridors
Red Fury Pirate Base
Red Fury Moon

“I assure you, the feeling is quite mutual.” Anima muttered into his commlink before deactivating it, keeping his voice low in the darkness of the corridor despite the carnage outside.

“Thanking Archangel for the assistance of his covering fire?” Methyas spoke softly from just behind his former apprentice. Luckily, sensing the man’s presence had become second nature over the years and Anima wasn’t caught off guard.

“You call that assistance? They nearly killed us.” Syn muttered from further down the corridor, the warning lights painting her with flashes of yellow while klaxons echoed in the distance.

Sanguinius appeared from around the corner, sending a wave of reassurance through the Force to the Kiffar. “I’m sure the Palitanae weren’t aiming directly at us,” the Entar stated evenly. The calm facade of his voice was broken by the distrust mirrored in his eyes.

“Arch didn’t say much, however his commander was adamant that they wouldn’t miss a second time.” Anima’s mismatched eyes narrowed as he raised his taloned hand to his lips, absentmindedly licking off the fresh blood that glistened upon the tips of his metallic fingers.

The Quaestor of Marka Ragnos cast his gaze to the pair of bodies at Anima’s feet and blood slowly flowing from their wounds. He had felt the tremors of their passing, but they could have just as easily been caused by the chaos surrounding them. So many lives lost with each passing moment. “Was that necessary, Rollmaster?”

“Necessary? Negative, efficient.”

Anima wasted no time turning the corner and proceeding ahead. Just as he was about to disappear from view, Methyas’ hand grasped his shoulder and pulled him back. The Umbaran snarled in response, glaring at the Miraluka beside him. “Be patient, old friend. We may be coming at them from an unexpected route but they are still well armed.”

“Did the Force tell you?” Anima scoffed.

“It tells me many things,” Methyas responded with a raised eyebrow, “but actually, they smell quite bad in there don’t you agree?”

Anima let out a long sigh, fighting to clear the smell of blood from his nostrils before closing his eyes and tapping into the dark pit at his core. The response was immediate, the shadow of the Force slivering through his veins with icey purpose before granting power to his senses. A deep inhale brought a swath of information to his mind, the sheer number of differentiating aromas combatting within his mind.

Sweat, grease, dried blood.

Methyas tilted his head, reaching out with his senses and the Force. There were many large, and presumably well trained, pirates nearby. “I sense at least six men.”

“I agree,” Sanguinius responded with his palm pressed firmly against the durasteel wall. “Might I recommend an alternative before the killing starts?”

Syn shifted uncomfortably as she glanced towards the armoured form of Tasha’Vel, silently watching over the Quaestor while he begrudgingly allowed it. The Kiffar had no wish to participate in further violence if she could help it, and with Anima nearby she knew it was more a matter of time than anything else.

Speaking of Anima, he merely folded his arms across his chest and eyed the Entar warily. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” he muttered.

“Based on the information I’ve been able to gather, your former Master here is more than capable when it comes to influencing the mind,” Sang moved closer to Anima as he spoke, assuming the lead position before continuing. “Together, I’m sure we can empty the room.”

Methyas turned his sightless gaze to Anima, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. The Rollmaster glanced back at the Son of Sadow, an unspoken exchange occurring. “Fair is fair, we’ll give your way a shot.” Anima nodded quickly, leaning against the wall almost casually despite the situation. “By all means, proceed.”

“I’ll download the intel, Master Sang.” Syn spoke up from her position further down the corridor, still committed to the mission despite her misgivings. The Entar gave her a quick nod before returning his focus to the door that undoubtedly leads to the command center. Almost in unison, the pair of Jedi raised their palms - a force of habit with the added benefit of focusing their abilities - channelling the power of the Force towards the inhabitants therein. Slowly but surely, it creeped into the weak-willed minds of the pirates, convincing them that the room had taken a direct hit and was very much on fire.

This mental image provided the desired reaction. What troops remained stationed came sprinting out into the hall, high tailing it for what was probably the nearest alternate command center. Syn was quick on her feet, dashing between Methyas and Sanguinius and slipping into the room. She was already connected to the main console with datapad in hand as the rest of the group entered behind her, trailed by Anima looking utterly unentertained.

“See, violence isn’t always the answer.” Sang stated.

“It’s certainly less fun,” Anima muttered as he gazed out into the corridor, “I don’t trust this.”

“Agreed, I expected… more.” Methyas responded.

“You guys are freaking me out, just shut up while I download all of… Whatever it is I’m getting.” Syn hissed over her shoulder.

Anima merely shrugged, leaning against the wall just inside the entryway. The others shifted warily as they took in the room, looking for any signs of a trap. Methyas was the first to react, his ears seemingly twitching as the sound of footsteps running down the corridors - a lot of footsteps. Too many in fact.

“It appears the bulk of their force was guarding from the front lines.” Methyas stated flatly.

“Of course, no one ever expects the old ‘blow open your own door’ approach!” Anima’s sarcasm was becoming so thick it was tangible.

“I just about got all the files, can you guys hold them off?” Syn called.

Anima suddenly kicked off the wall, grinning with animalistic glee as he howled with fury and charged into the corridor. His saber, Vestigium of Duriel, was already at hand as he slipped through the entryway, the cyan blade carving a glowing trail through the wall. Methyas chuckled softly, turning towards Sanguinius as he began to follow Anima.

“Even a killer has his uses, especially when they’re a friend.” The Son of Sadow said.

“There are always other options, I thought you’d understand that.” Sang grumbled in response.

“Like he said… Less efficient ones.”

With that, Methyas slipped out of the room as Syn stared at her datapad, seconds away from completing the transfer.



Our combined assault on the pirate stronghold proceeds well. Sensors indicate that their communications are offline, thanks to forces led by Dark Jedi Knight Armad, Guardian Delak, and Epis Elincia. We have reached the control room, and a team consisting of Battlemaster Anima, Exarch Sanguinius, Pontifex Methyas, and Priestess Syn, among others, have obtained the data the pirates held in their central computer. Now our forces must act quickly to safeguard this data and ensure none of the pirates are allowed to escape.

Objective 1: Secure the Hangar: The Hangar remains under pirate control. Our scanners indicate a large amount of the pirate force may be proceeding to the hangars. With their communications offline, we believe that a major part of the pirate’s forces are attempting to escape. They must not be allowed to get into space. Keep in mind the defenses detailed in earlier intel. We expect that they will be beefed up as the bulk of the remaining pirate force concentrates here and seeks to escape.

Objective 2: Secure Data: With the information contained in the pirate’s data core downloaded into Priestess Syn’s datapad, the pirates appear to be attempting to ensure no member of the team that took the control room escapes alive. A shuttle has been dispatched to immediately secure the datapad, and has landed at the nearest safe point on the moon’s surface. The datapad must make it from the control room to this shuttle. We anticipate that the pirates will target this shuttle in force once they realize why it is there.

Additionally, all remaining pirate forces around the damaged communication center must be neutralized.


Moving through the planets orbit, Landon Cruise knew he had mere minutes to make it to the action below. Delak had activated a beacon to local pilot’s in the area. Typical of Landon, moments earlier he had been in the Casino drinking and gambling until the call came through.

Descending towards the surface the anti aircraft guns were making attempts at the Dark Jedi’s TIE Defender. Skilled in the way of flying, none would hit his ship. Dodging each strike and launching a barrage of his own lasers on each target. Each turret would hit within mere inches of his TIE Defender, but the Force was strong with this pilot. It seemed that a multitude of laser would be coming at his craft for destruction, but somehow he would move the TIE out of harms way in mere milliseconds.

Eventually Landon would see the massive formation of AT-AT’s and AT-ST’s. Below was a massive formation of troops fighting the Pirates. He noticed a Obelisk in CSP armor with a red blade swirling through the air. He knew this was Delak. It was at that point Landon Cruise started making strafing runs on the enemies below further degrading their capabilities to win the fight.

Eventually Landon Cruise would land his craft close to the fight. It was time to put that rusty blade to use. He hadn’t touched a body with it since the Great Jedi War. His love for flying kept him further away from the more intense scenes of combat. This didn’t mean he didn’t remember all the trials and training his Master Valhavoc had put him through.


Meanwhile back down in the control room:

Tasha’Vel heard the approaching footsteps and nodded at Syn. “I will help keep them off you as long as possible. Please hurry with those files.” Quickly, she ignited her red training saber and moved closer to the corridor preparing to fight off any that Anima may have missed. She watched the corridor carefully and kept a watchful eye on Syn, making sure no one would be able to attack her.

Soon she could hear the screams of pirates as Anima’s blade connected with flesh. She grinned through her black helmet. “Ruthless and deadly as usual. Hopefully with Anima fighting them off, I may not have to do a whole lot of fighting. But it means I lose out on all the fun.” Tasha still kept her vigil as Syn finished the last of the download.

“Got it.” Syn answered. “Now lets go.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Tasha went on ahead down the corridor following Anima’s murder spree. As she got closer towards Anima’s location, Tasha spotted several dead pirates sprawled about the corridor cut down from Anima’s lethal blade. In the corner of her eye, she saw a pirate pulling his blaster out to shoot at Anima’s unprotected back. Seeing he was currently fighting off several in front of him, Tasha leaped forward and tore into the unsuspecting pirate. Her blade sliced into his side while she arced it diagonally and split the pirate in two.

“I’m fine Tasha.” Anima called out as he sliced down two more pirates.

“Well that is one pirate I have so far. What’s the count now Anima?” Chuckled Tasha as she kept fighting other nearby pirates.


On board the Damnation

“Daedric. Rear shuttlebay, ten minutes. Prep for stealth, bring your best.” Marcus’ orders echoed in the back of Daedric’s mind as he walked through the corridors of the Damnation. His steady and deliberate pace betrayed the Jedi’s military background. His mind was racing. Stealth. How was he supposed to do his job if he wasn’t allowed to make any sound. He preferred the direct approach; siege an encampment or storm a position. His way was combat, the exchange of emotion through munitions and the strength of a man’s convictions. Damned Krath.
He shrugged off the memories that flooded his mind and hit the button next to the door and stepped inside the room that had been designated as barracks for the Devil’s Shroud. Inside were two rows of bunks, all of them occupied by soldiers clad in black outfits. Daedric suppressed a grin when he saw them. These were his best, the finest troops imaginable, trained by him personally. They were perfectly disciplined and able to perform in any situation with any equipment. These were his razors.
The officer nearest the door noticed Daedric entering, immediately jumping to a salute. “‘Tension on deck!” The result was expected and immediate, every soldier dropped what they were doing and stood at full salute. Daedric, returning the salute, paced between the bunks. “Gentlemen. We have an assignment, as you’ve been told we are here to eradicate a pirate pest. The powers that be have determined that we will be going in quietly. However, I still want you to prep our armor package. We might need them if our Krath leader’s plan doesn’t work out.” His voice could barely disguise his disdain for his commander, Marcus. Nevertheless, his men nodded, not that he’d expected any different. “Alright, rear hangar in five minutes. Dismissed.”


System A1-X3
Aboard Shuttle En Route To Hanger

There was a tension in the air that Bentre could not quite wrap his head around. It was not the rocking of the ship, or even the chaos they were about to descend into. There was an uncurrent of unease which seemed to flow through the whole of the shuttle. For a moment, a bit of doubt tickled at the back of his thoughts. Could he really trust everyone here to watch his back?

Nervously, he checked his blaster pistol again, ensuring for the twelfth time that it was ready for action. Glancing around, he considered the armor that some of the others wore. Perhaps he should have geared up in something a little more than his usual garb, topped by a piece of chest armor. If he took too serious a hit, that could be it for him. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Too much thinking would drive him mad.

A lot had happened in the last few weeks. He’d been working with Daedric a lot, trying to get a handle on the basics of unarmed combat, drilling on lightsaber combat, and better rounding himself out as a soldier. He needed to become a better killer.

The shuttle bucked again, and Bentre found himself grabbing a strap on the wall as he tried to steady his stomach. He found himself looking down the shuttle at the various individuals assembled in the shuttle. He considered himself easily the least experienced in operations like this. It was a far cry from shaking down shopkeepers, or getting caught up in a gang war. If he was not careful, he could find himself left behind on this moon. He didn’t dare think for a moment that he was valuable enough an asset to risk rescuing if he fell.

With a final clank, the shuttle met with ground, and the Corellian felt his stomach buckle. It was time to act, and he had plenty of time later to reflect on his failings. As the shuttle opened, the sound of battle filled his ears, and Bentre found himself moving toward it with an unexpected fervor. Something resonated with him, and he was prepared to seek out death, be it his or the hordes of pitiful pirates.


Red Fury Moon
Outside the Comm Tower

Macron shut down his lightsaber and peered about. He had held the line, offering a compelling distraction among the enemy forces as the combined Sadowan and Palatinae forces had closed in and crushed the pirates. He had briefly seen Armad, and nodded in recognition. Armad had become powerful and no longer needed direct guidance. Seeing him get Knighted had been a proud moment for both of them.

Still, there had been no time for small talk. Pirates were everywhere and the madman had killed as many as possible, continuing to do so after the main forces had passed by and penetrated into the tower proper. “Someone has to take out the trash, after all,” he giggled to himself as another pirate sprung from behind a pile of rubble and raced for the hangar area. A thrown lightsaber buzzed the man down like a lawnmower made of orange hateful light. “Satisfying. I’ve had my fill of glory and being in the front. Other younger Dark Jedi can take that role now. I’m just here to do evil to the Clan’s enemies.” He could sense no remaining living enemies near him as the saber returned to his grip with a snap. It was time to move in, and re-assess the situation.

Readouts scrolled across his faceplate heads-up display. Objectives were being delineated by Sadow Command across the text feed: {Objective 1: Secure the Hangar:} More shuttles and dropships were now approaching the surface. Daedric was in charge of a group of them, and this made Macron smile. The man was an excellent soldier and a powerful Dark Jedi. More than that, he was also Macron’s Sith Apprentice. The mad Elder had been in hiding for some time, and was curious to see how Daedric’s development had come along in the meantime.

The Alchemist touched a stud on his vambrace. “Daedric. How goes it?” asked the Coruscanti’s voice across the crackling comlink.

“Very well, sir. We’re landing and heading to eradicate the pirate pests. The hangar is the next team objective.”

“Copy that. Glad to see you’re still sucking air. We’ll talk later. I’m headed in that direction. See you on the field of battle.” The madman broke into a dead sprint assisted by the Force as he made a beeline for the hangar area and more red ruin. Overhead a TIE Defender with CSP markings swooped by and strafed a pernicious e-web blaster that the Sith had not been relishing trying to get past. “My thanks,” muttered the madman as he continued to run. “I’ve got some serious killin’ to do.”


Low orbit of Red Fury moon base,
System A1-X3,
39 ABY

In the still darkness of space, the grey hull of the shuttle softly glided across the emptiness. It’s destination was a crater that spilled dust directly into the Hangar’s landing strip and gave them a clear and direct assault on the base. Inside the shuttle, the team of specialised commando’s that were led by Daedric awaited patiently whilst the groups of shuttles and transports quickly dropped off forces and retreated into the darkness. Within this shuttle sat some of the leaders of Shar Dakhan, all were prepared for the blood and glory yet to come. At the rear of the shuttle, Daedric and Marcus were exchanging words shortly after Macron had contacted them. Their concentration was focused heavily on the rifles and blasters they had stocked into the loadout cabinet. At the front of the shuttle with the pilot, the Zelosian slowly walked towards the window and patted the shoulder of the human.

“Prepare to drop off our cargo into the crater. The folks below will certainly enjoy our gift.” It was the first time Marcus had saw Galleros smile, the expression was filled with satisfaction and a sense of hope.

The Warhost pilot nodded in confirmation and began to swing the shuttle into descension, diving towards the crater. Behind him, the soldiers looked at Marcus who nodded in a signal and they took weapons from the loadout with a swift second nature. Helmets hissed and clicked into their suits and the specialised platoon gripped onto the sides of the shuttle.

“Sir, I need to ask but what is in those cargo boxes? You’ve never brought them up since that supply run back on the Damnation and I see no reason in dropping extra guns onto the battlefield.” Marcus walked towards his Quaestor and pressed for answers. Galleros smiled slightly more as he tapped the Epicanthix’s shoulder.

“It’s not extra weapons, Marcus. It’s something a lot better.” Galleros whispered as he smiled, the soldiers behind felt a sense of unease when Galleros’ tone was filled with glee.

The shuttle engaged it’s thrusters, the violet flames burning and glassing the dust below as the base of the craft began to level. Galleros reached over to a large console and tapped on the screen to unhook the wires on the cargo. As the containers fell, the hatches at the front hissed and were kicked off onto the ground. As Marcus and Daedric slowly peered through the pilot’s stomach feed, they noticed many pentadactyly scratchings on the inside of the lid. Then the low rumble echoed through the sound feedback of the shuttle, sending chills down their spines. Then like lightning from a dark cloud, the cargo emptied with flashes of orange which raced from their containers and up the walls of the crater. Their strong roars echoed through the terrain and the pack of orange furred beasts sprinted their fastest towards the hangar. In the shuttle, the Zelosian chuckled to himself.

“On Aeotheran the Akul are your worst nightmare if they trap you in the jungle. However give them a breathing mask and drop them in low gravity, then you’re never escaping this horror. Let’s jump ship!” Galleros walked towards the ramp as he slipped on his own carbon dioxide mask, then pushed the control panel and leaped out.

Time to cull the savages and wipe out these animals.


“The Hangar remains under pirate control. Our scanners indicate a large amount of the pirate forces may be proceeding to the hangars,” crackled a voice over the comm piece in Calindra’s ear, but the rest of the communication was drowned out by some bloke in her unit called Midas who was busy growling at the situation.

“What does 'ee mean under pirate control… of course it’s under pirate control…! We’d’been told to sit pretty as the Sadowans get all the fun…” he had barked at the sergeant next to him. He then angrily put his hand into his coat pocket and took out a pack of smokes, took out a cigarette from the pack and put it between his lips. He then took out a bulky zippo lighter from his inside pocket, flicked it and lit up.

Yeah, it had been that kind of a day…

Normally, Calindra would have preferred a stealthy approach, but being entirely new to the Order, she’d been saddled with this loud mouth who negated any chance at any stealthy action whatsoever. She ignored him as he paced up and down behind her while she watched the hangar with a set of macro binoculars from the ridge they’d taken.

The pacing finally stopped as he looked at the sergeant in the eyes, streams of smoke whisping from his nostrils… the lighter, which he was still clutching, went masterfully back into its pocket which allowed him to put both hands on his thighs, “Don’t you 'ave some’ting better to do…!?”

The sergeant just looked at him sardonically, and Midas just sighed his frustration. ‘I need kaf…’ he said out loud again, his heavily accented lower class Corellian tainting everything he said in basic. Tiredly, he watched the pirates swarming in the hangar. ‘No, we 'ave to take care of zeez pirates first, then kaff…’

Calindra put down the macro binoculars as she heard an unfamilar noise coming from up above and behind her. Even Midas was looking up: “What in 'ell do they think boxes will do 'ere…?” For once he spoke for everyone as they all observed the crates falling between them and the hangar.

“Sweet mother of…” the sergeant said this time as they all looked on in wonder when the orange beasts burst out of the crates and started howling and scurrying towards the hangars.

“Looks like we won’t need stealth afterall,” Calindra said as she got up with a grin. Lightsaber in hand, she made her way down the slope.


Red Fury Moon Base
Near the Hangar

The Akul burst from the shuttle and scrambled madly for the hangar. Several of them stopped to regard the red-armored figure standing in front of them bearing a sword of orange fire. The two-leg did not smell like prey…. and it exuded a menacing, fear-dripping presence. Plasteel and chemicals did not taste good. This “human” stank of them both. The swarm of furred beasts flowed around the man with roars and passed him by.

“Shavit,” mumbled Macron as he exhaled and released his Fear effect. “Pshoo.” That had looked like a very bad situation indeed. Aeotheran’s Akul had proven notoriously resistant to genetic manipulation and he had discarded that line of research years ago. One was no threat, but a bunch of them would have been dangerous even for him. Fortunately, they could not smell him through the NBC sealed Sith battlesuit. Not that his chemical-stinking synthetic flesh would have been all that appealing anyhow. One never knows though.

The shuttle egress opened, and Galleros leapt out. Marcus, Daedric, Bentre, and others spilled from the shuttle. The madman stood patiently as the Dark Jedi fanned out. Macron nodded. “Quaestor Galleros Sjl, I don’t think we have formally met. Very nice touch with the beasts, I must say. I like your style. Daedric. Good to see you.” His mismatched eyes narrowed behind the visor of his helm. “You two, I do not know but I can sense you are Dark Jedi and serve our great Clan.”

“Adept Macron Sadow.” Galleros nodded as he recognized the notorious Clan elder. “Glad to have you with us. This is Knight Marcus Kiryu and Guardian Bentre Stahoes. We’re assaulting the main hangar. Our duty is to not let the pirates escape. Marcus and I intend to infiltrate by surprise. Daedric, Bentre, and yourself would make an excellent distraction. You obviously know Daedric. He claims you are his Sith Master.”

“Marshal Commander Sadow… my teacher, you are… not well suited for stealth.” Daedric grinned quietly. The soldier had been through a lot with the madman and was somewhat comfortable with him. The two had spilled blood together, both of the enemy and their own in the battles on Korriban and elsewhere. If there was trust, it was between those who had served together.

“Yes, I agree with you sir. My talents lie elsewhere. I am happy to serve my Clan as always, Quaestor Sjl. I will gladly join Daedric and Bentre in making a ruckus as you say." The Sith flexed his gauntlet-clad hands hungrily. One was clad in a Mandalorian iron crush-gaunt that whined impatiently. The hate flowed through him at will. Perhaps too easily, but the madman did his best to conceal it from them. "Lead on, Knight Turelles. I will follow you and Guardian Bentre.” The Elder chuckled to himself and quickly checked his gear. “I have two thermal detonators left, two lightsabers, two Sapphire Blades, some poisons, and a hot-rodded disruptor pistol. And best of all, The Dark Side is my ally. For SADOW!”


Red Fury Moon Base
Near the Hangar

“For Sadow indeed,” Warlord Robert Sadow uttered in a disturbingly sober voice as he approached his fellow Clansmen followed by Primarch Shi Long, Battlemaster Scithe, and various other members of Sapphire Squadron.

“Glad you could make it Bob,” remarked the Clan’s resident mad scientist.

“You know me Mac,” Bob stated matter-of-factly, “Always looking to pick a fight. Besides, my boss is watching.” Bob nodded to his green eyed Quaestor whom nodded in return.

“Well what are we waiting for,” Scithe sarcastically remarked as he pointed to the edge of the crater towards their objective, “Let’s get this over with.” A large dust cloud slowly dissipated as if on cue revealing the hangar of the soon to be extinct pirate group known as Red Fury.

Shi Long ignited Nenshogeru’s burning blade shedding an orange hue over his face while taking his infamous “I’m going to f@ck some sh@t up” stance and Bentre slid the hammer on his SE-14 pistol while a huge grin formed on the Guardian’s face.

Dark Jed Knight Daedric studied the hangar for an instance and with a nod, “Master.”

The Adept launched his last two thermal detonators at the hangar and with a little force push they cleared the charging Akul landing with a distinct clanking noise by the main door. Within seconds a large fireball the size of one of Bob’s hangovers appeared engulfing the hangar. When the smoke cleared the hangar door was no longer standing just in time for the Akul to scamper through.

“Knock Knock,” the Adept giggled.


Undisclosed Location

Something was very wrong here, but with all the interference echoing through the Force she was having a hard time pinpointing precisely what it was. As she stood at the terminal, datapad in hand and data downloading at lightspeed, with her Clan mates at her back, she couldn’t shake the idea that something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

It was too easy. In a thousand lifetimes she would never have thought to have already been at the main objective of her mission; from the memories the Other left in her mind, she knew it had never been this easy for Syntari Bastiayn, and she knew from her own experiences that nothing was this simple. How could it be?

“Syn!” Anima shouted, lightsaber in hand and back-to-back with Methyas. “Do you have the data or not?”

Something about that voice struck a cord within the Other, and a memory surfaced from nowhere: a different man with Anima’s face, in another time, another place. Not now, not a shift now…

She shook her head, clearing it, and felt the Other recede. The mystery that always surrounded Anima could be solved later, she decided as she glanced down at the datapad. Only a moment longer, aaaaandd…

“Got it!” she called, stowing the device safely away. “Let’s get the hell out of here!”

Despite having the data, the nagging feeling that something was wrong wouldn’t vanish from the back of her mind. Not knowing what else to do, she reached out and caught Sang’s shoulder.

“Master Entar,” she called over the sounds of blaster fire and the snap-hiss of lightsabers. “There’s something wrong here. This is too easy.”


He’d touched down neatly next to his Quaestor, finding an elder, Daedric and his apprentice Bentre there. “Took you long enough,” the Zelosian jested as introductions were made. The decision to split up was made quickly. The main party containing Daedric, Bentre and the elder Macron Sadow would assault the main hangar bay. Galleros and Marcus would go in from behind.

After they’d split up Marcus opened his mouth to retort but one of the bright-colored creatures had jumped in front of him, it’s teeth bared, getting ready to pounce. “Eh, a little help here,” Marcus pleaded with his senior. Touching the mind of the brutal predator with the Force yielded naught but raw instinct and aggression. With nothing for him to latch his will onto, the ruthless animal extended its claws. “Calm down Marcus,” Galleros chuckled, connecting its mind to his. Immediately the beast relaxed. A sound not unlike purring rose from it’s throat as Galleros patted its head. Marcus scoffed, “Figured that you would know how to calm down that thing. You’re more beast than man sometimes.” The Krath Priest merely bared his his teeth in a beastly grin, “Come on, we should get moving.”

Moments later, they’d left the crater and arrived at a back entrance to the hangar complex. Having only had minor scuffles with a few straggling pirates that the , both Galleros and Marcus were both itching for more action. The entrance up ahead was strangely deserted, no guards, no security, the door was open. A look of distrust passed between the two Krath. A trap. The Krath Priest moved towards the door, but Marcus held him back. Both felt their minds connect as Marcus quickly relayed his intention through the link that allowed him to communicate wordlessly with his superior. Galleros nodded, slinking back into the shadows. Marcus quickly checked his lightsaber, decorated with ornate figures, and then secured it on the clasp inside his sleeve, out of sight. In a few paces he’d reached the door and disappeared through it.

The corridor inside was dimly lit, the smell of fuel and filth mingling into a fragrance that could knock out a Wookiee. Large canisters littered the floor, likely discarded here after their contents had been used up. Marcus quietly picked his way through the mess on the floor, taking care not to make too much noise. He was almost at the end when a loud clanging noise resounded through corridor; he had kicked against one of the many canisters and it was now rolling across the floor, a grating noise that was surely heard throughout the complex. Sure enough two pirates appeared from the opening at the end, aiming their rifles at the seemingly unarmed Knight.

Raising his arms to just above his waist and pointing outward, Marcus focused his attention on the two pirates. “Calm down, I’m not here to hurt you. Just, lower those weapons and we might talk about this like men, hm?” The sound of his voice, laced with the Force, penetrated the feeble minds of the two men, altering their thoughts, their responses. Like zombies they started to lower their rifles, a smile forming on Marcus’ lips. Suddenly a massive explosion echoed through the complex, distracting the young Krath for a moment. He regained his composure almost instantaneously, but the harm had already been done. The bigger pirate of the set shook his head and leveled his rifle at Marcus again. Just as the young Epicanthix meant to draw his lightsaber, a green blur swooped past him. Two swift motions and both pirates lay dead at Galleros’ feet.

“Come now Marcus. Enough dawdling.”


Red Fury Hangar
Front Door

The main door to the hangar had been blown wide open. Even now, the turrets were turning to face the attackers. Hordes of remaining pirates hunkered down behind crates and loading droids within the cavernous space, brandishing various weapons. They leered and taunted those who had come to send them to the land of their ancestors. They were not bright, and would soon be reunited with their dead brethren.

“Ladies and Gentlemen. The others have moved into position methinks. Shall we?” queried Shi Long as he held Nenshogeru in front of him. A simultaneous shout of battle-lust from all of the assembled Dark Jedi was his response.

Bob Sadow, Bentre, Scithe, Daedric, Macron, and other Dark Jedi rushed the hangar. Bentre popped off direct shots from his blaster, nailing one of the pirates right between the eyes. The Guardian wisely took cover and marshalled his breath, carefully selected targets and speared them with blaster fire. His covering salvos cleared the way for Bob Sadow and the others to move forward.

The Sapphire Commander charged one of the turrets recklessly, obviously suffering from a lack of alcohol in his veins. Battlemaster Scithe shadowed him, and the two of them set themselves to hacking their way with lightsabers into the access door at the rear of turret like some kind of unholy badgers with a grudge. There was beer waiting at the end of this venture, and the sooner it was over, the sooner the imbibing could begin.

Daedric, Macron, and Shi Long formed a natural triad near another turret. Bentre moved up behind them, ducking from cover to cover and continuing his suppressing fire. Daedric tossed a canister of ablative gas between the advancing trio and the nearest turret. The billowing silvery gas provided cover and dissipated blaster shots for a short time. Shi Long began to make a beeline for the turret, slicing down a pirate wielding a vibroblade as he went. His orange blade cut right through the vibroblade, the pirate’s arm, and the top third of his head in a blazing arc.

“You guys take the turret! I’ll hold off these jackanapes,” shouted Macron as seven mean-looking pirates encircled him. “They won’t last long.” Daedric nodded in assent, and followed Shi Long at a run into the cloud of argentiferous gas.

The madman growled. Vibroblades and blasters were pointed at him, and all hell broke loose.

Macron’s first act was to sever an arm from his nearest opponent with a quick whipping throw of his tangerine-colored lightsaber. As the lightsaber returned with a speed-blurred snap to his other hand, the pirate’s arm was grasped in mid-air and used to club it’s hapless owner’s brains out with a single Force-empowered blow. The orphaned arm snapped from the power of the blow and was dropped to the floor.

In-between strikes the Adept dodged blaster fire and deflected a shot or two that came too close, once with his blade and once with an open hand that simply absorbed the bolt. The favor was returned with a gout of blue lightning that dropped the offending pirate to his knees, and a massive Force-fueled front kick stove in the human’s seared and smoking face with the heel of an armored boot. “Graaaah!” screamed the mad Elder as the battle-rage began to take hold of his tainted soul.


Merde!” Midas exclaimed as one of the fellows Macron was fighting was spectacularly eviscerated by the Sith Elder, not 10 feet away from where they had snuck through. “Dat one was gushy…”

“Juicy, you mean? Yeah, he was a ripe and juicy one if that’s what you mean… I’m glad I chose the right camp to fight for,” Calindra answered as she considered her next move and absently wiped some blood splatter from her shoo-fa scarf.

The good thing with a loud mouth like Midas is that you picked-up early on just what sort of thought process the guy had… She was pretty sure by now that his whole brooding act was just that… an act. While he was actually mouthing off, he kept you distracted long enough for him to think things through, and she noticed that he was taking a look at the structural beams above the opened bay…

“You thinking that we could bring the house down by causing some structural damage to those…?” she asked as one of the pirates ran for cover as he made a hasty retreat into a YT-1300.

Midas looked at her in surprise; she had guessed correctly.

Blaster fire resounded from inside the YT as the boarding ramp started to close at an almost painful slowness. They were running out of time… “What if we caused one of the ships to crash in them?” she suggested.

“And ‘ow do you propose we do dat?”

Calindra patted the crate they were hiding behind, and then smiled back at him.

Midas’ eyes narrowed as he suddenly understood.

“The only problem,” she said, “is that I don’t know how to use those…”

“I do…!” he said as he quickly unlatched the crate, “but I will need you to keep ‘zem away from me…” He waved towards the miasma of creatures making their way into the hangar and the trigger happy lunatics around the room to make his point.

“I got you covered,” she added with a nod as she took out the lightsaber they had given her at the armory.


The interior of the turret control room was covered in remains as the two Sith stared at each other. “So, where do these morons keep their boozes?” Bob said nonchalantly, already dislodging a rodian carcass from one of the seats to look underneath it.

Scithe removed a bottle held firmly by a quarrian corpse on the other end of the room and tossed it. “Here. There’s nothing much in it, by the way.” He watched as some of the instruments, the ones still functional, flared messages like holoprojections in a twilek dance performance. “This looks interesting. Some of our hosts appear to be ready to skip town.”

Bob jumped, mid gulp. “Where?” He was already heading to the door, lightsaber ignited. The Battlemaster looked at him with a smirk. “Relax, man. I got an idea. But first, check that targeting console, will ya?”

“Oh, I get it.” Bob was back in his chair, mashing any and all buttons he could get his fingers on. Most of them were, obviously, unresponsive, which made the Sapphire Commander rage with frustration. “This piece of bantha poodoo isn’t working. Arrrgh!” He punched the panel with fury and was unexpectedly rewarded by an orange and black cloud of smoke and flames blossoming in the vid console as the turret stirred to life once more. “Just hope that one wasn’t one of ours.”

Scithe’s smile broadened as he took another seat and began feeding his squad leader coordinates to vaporize, and Bob was sure all too eager to comply.


Above the surface of Red Fury Moon Base
Aboard a MAAT

Dante looked out at the carnage before him.

The combined force of Scholae and Naga Sadow who had taken out the communications tower had done an excellent job as the pirates had lost all ability to put up a sustained and coordinated defense. The other main force that had attacked the hangar bay looked like they were having a bit more difficulty in meeting their objective.

Dante contacted Dleak again and said “Delak… try and get your armored forces to head back towards the hangar bay and cut off some of the pirates who are trying to escape. I’m going to try and help out he Sadowans who are in the hangar already. Dante out.”

“Swing around and head for the hangar bay,” said Kell as he turned his attention back to the rest of the battle. Suddenly, one of the turrets on their approach came to life again and began firing at their formation.

The pilot of the shuttle shouted “Incoming!” just as they were hit by a trio of laser blasts from the previously inert weapons system. “You might want to go sit down and strap in, Field Marshal… This is going to be a rough landing!” he yelled as he attempted to keep the transport from just dropping to the surface of the moon.

“Great…” moaned Dante as he headed back to the troop compartment. “Buckle up, troops… This is gonna hurt!” he shouted to the members of the 25th Special Operations team.

The fiery shuttle hurtled towards the rocky terrain seemingly out of control, but the pilot managed to flare the ship at the last moment and engage the retros to enable a somewhat controlled, if hard, landing. The other two landing craft in their flight managed to land near the crashed ship without any issues.

The dropmasters on all three craft began screaming “GO! GO! GO! GO!” as the landing ramps dropped. Four squads of commandos disembarked from each craft and followed the large Obelisk who was dressed in modified black and gray stormtrooper armor.

“Squads One through Four…Move out and provide cover fire for the Sadowans,” said Dante as they moved towards the hangar bay. With his purple saber in his right hand and a DL-44 blaster in the left, Kell shouted “Squads Five through Eight… You’re with me! Move forward and keep down!” The seasoned Obelisk pointed to the right flank and sent the remaining four squads to guard against a flanking movement from straggling pirates. “Let’s move it people!” Kell ordered as the battle continued to rage all around them.


Delak cut the holo with Dante quickly as his forces had been mopping up the remaining pirates at the comm station. It was now sufficiently wrecked that a new one would need to be built if anyone were going to make use of it again. “Alright troopers let’s get to our next job. Quaestor says we go to the hanger to cut off the pirate retreat, we cut of the pirate retreat. Tank Regiment move out!.” Delak shouted.

The armored tank regiment turned ranks and headed straight for the hanger bay area. Delak planed to lead the regiment to the hill tops overlooking the hanger bay as to provide support to charging troops and to shoot down escaping pirate ships.

Twenty Minutes Later
"Take position here and watch for any enemies that you see. Give them no quarter. Everyone will be dead soon. One way or another." Delak ordered.

The tanks all pulled into position and firefights and lightsabers could be seen inside the hanger. It seemed to be a fierce battle. Delak could see through the macro binocs that there were battles going on around a yt-1300 freighter. He watched as pirates ran on board the ship. The ship lifted off with CNS and CSP troops firing at it as it attempts to fly away. Delak ordered the regiment to open fire. Several tanks got lucky shots on the ship which took out the shields as it was still taking off. The ship made it out of the hanger bay just in time for a shot to make it through the cockpit of the ship. The pilot was instantly killed on contact and the ship made its way straight down towards the ground and crashed leaving the ship mostly intact.

“A new prize for CSP with a little repair.” Delak joked to himself. “Enough room in there for your own personal science freighter Elincia.”


Red Fury Hangar

The Corellian transport roared as it took off. Although the attack had been fierce, there was very little individual Dark Jedi could do to stop a starship from launching. As the YT-1300 leapt forth from the hanger it was hammered by direct fire from tanks and artillery positioned outside. It fell to the ground with a thunderous crash as the fierce battle raged on inside.

“You couldn’t stop that?” yelled Daedric as he cut down a blaster-carbine wielding pirate.

“Too big, get real,” yelled Macron in reply while slicing a Wookie with a vibro-axe in two. “Way out of my league!” The bad thing was that the pirates had no lightsaber-resistant weaponry. Unlike other Dark Jedi, they did not use the Force either. This put them at a huge disadvantage. However, they had superior numbers, knew the layout of the hangar, and had set up postiions inside before the enemy arrived.

Bentre Stahoes leaned behind a crate and reloaded a new energy clip. He had only one more left, but had shot down a number of pirates. ‘I’m getting low on ammo over here,” he shouted to his Master Daedric.

Across from them one of the turrets turned and began to fire on the pirates. It smoked and the aim was erratic but it was seriously demoralizing their already broken ranks. “Looks like Bob and Scithe took the turret,” yelled Shi Long over the din. He was tied up deflecting blaster fire from three opponents who had taken cover and were good shots.

In fact, the pirates that remained were putting up a solid defense. Several of them had set up an e-web blaster and mini-mortar behind the cover of durasteel crates and it had come online. It was cleverly set out of Bob and Scithe’s turret’s field of fire. As the e-web blaster came online and began to rip out streams of blaster fire, the mortar lobbed a few grenades, and the Sadow Dark Jedi dove for cover.

Shi Long, Daedric, Bentre and Macron huddled behind a pile of crates and debris. “Sonofabitch,” grumbled Macron. “That was close. Anybody hurt? I took some shrapnel in the side, but I’m okay to fight.” The Sith fingered the hole in his armor, removed a cannister from his belt, and sprayed the hole with flesh-sealant and a wince under his helm. “Shavit. Armor took most of it. The Force will keep me in the fight.” He concentrated on his wound carefully.

“I’m good,” replied Bentre. “Just low on ammo. My Armory saber has a full charge though.”

“Some minor burns, good to go,” stated Daedric. “They’re probably hoping to pin us down and flank us.”

“Probably so. Got a deflected shot on my right hip,” snarled Shi Long. “I can fight with the aid of the Force. And some of that spray, my man.” He gestured at Macron, who handed over the can of spray. “Looks like the cavalry is here,” stated the Long as a mass of troopers and Dark Jedi bearing CSP insignia and led by a large man in modified stormtrooper armor crested the rise outside and began to lay down covering fire.


Atlas Moon
Outside of the Base
Lambda-Class shuttle Amber Spirit
Objective #2 – Datapad Intel

Priestess Mayda had been dispatched to retrieve the datapad containing the information, for all of the military types were already out in battle on the ground, or had been flying and shooting from orbit, until they landed now to provide backup support. As always, the Rollmaster was considered non-essential personnel, and therefore not too important to risk going down to the planet, as the Emperor would be. However, they also considered her essential or non-military enough to only land the shuttle in a safe clearing, not in immediate danger, though some distance from the base. This meant that the CNS team with the datapad would have to run through the fighting outside. It was up to them to make it to the shuttle… or was it? Mayda did not like to rely on others, not even Lady Luck herself. So, there were always contingency plans upon backup plans upon Plans B, C and D.

She had been anxiously waiting in the shuttle in orbit for some hours before they got the clearance to land. She and her crew tried to record all of the communications about the various teams of the mission so far, but it was a chaotic mess, with people in all directions; only a few were taking orders from their commanders as they should be. Mayda had been trying to hear more cues about this Priestess Syn and her datapad, worried about the ability of the girl and her electronic tool to make it all the way to the shuttle.

Syn… sounded familiar… was that Syntari that she had known in CNS? Shikyo’s apprentice? Mayda opened her mind to the Force, and searched out feelings, but the sheer number of anxieties and excitements was overwhelming. Catching herself from falling back, she leaned against a wall of her ship and braced herself to try again, but more specifically.

“Syn”, she called out through the air and her mind, along the waves of the Force, in the direction of the base where she heard the communications center had been. Her focus was direct, and there were no distractions, for her crew were busy at the ship’s communications control panels and were quietly murmuring to themselves. Expert slicer Saskia Ortega-Inahj was aboard, preparing to hack into the datapad’s network. Mayda had given her some old CNS codes that she had filed away.

“Syntari?” she questioned if the girl would answer by that name. “This is Mayda… we were friendly acquaintances…,” she hoped sentimentality would work. “I need your datapad’s password. Think of me, outside the base, and send me the thought of the word.” From what she recalled, Syn had a bit of telepathy, so Mayda hoped it would be enough to reply to this plea.


Undisclosed Location

Too easy or not, she couldn’t focus on the sense of wrong she felt. Something else nagged at her attention as her comrades fought around her, something that demanded her focus and seemed vaguely familiar…

“Syn!” The half-familiar voice tugged at her through the Force. “Syntari!”

Where had she heard that voice before? Once, long ago? No, she realized, the Other had once known this person, the Other who used to be Syntari Bastiayn of Clan Naga Sadow before her demise and subsequent attachment as a mere ghost.

Mayda Ferium, the Other whispered. I knew her, once upon a time…

Syn closed her eyes for a moment as the battle settled, reaching out through the Force to assess the situation. Just because the Other had known this Mayda Ferium didn’t mean that the other woman was trustworthy, of course, but passing judgement before she knew what the Priestess wanted was neither fair nor logical.

“This is Mayda… we were friendly acquaintances…I need your datapad’s password. Think of me, outside the base, and send me the thought of the word."

The sudden and complete lack of noise startled Syn back to reality, where she found her team staring at her and Sang’s Force aura ringing with concern. How long had she blacked out for? Mentally she cursed herself; had it not been for her team, she could have been killed.

“Are you alright, Syn?” came Sang’s voice.

“Fine,” she responded, struggling now to follow Mayda’s Force thread. “Give me a moment…”

“Priestess Mayda,” she called through their temporary link, “I am not Syntari, though I am a former friend of hers. Take my password and do what you will with the information.”


A sigh of relief washed over Mayda upon receiving the thoughts of Syn, though they were broken up, due to the fireworks of gunfire, lasers and peril around her. There was no time to decipher the mystery of why this was not Syntari, that would be for later. Nor was it even strange to May, for she had seen and experienced far stranger, therefore she did not doubt the truth told to her.

Mayda’s tired eyelids pressed together tightly, trying to catch the next word that Syn would send… In the meantime, she snapped her fingers towards Saskia, to warn her to be ready to receive it, right from Mayda’s mind if possible. The Epis was alert, sitting upright at her console, knowing that the capture of intelligence may hinge on the next few moments. It was a time like this that made Mayda grateful to have the experienced woman on her team now. Even the pilot was on standby, in case they needed to make a hasty retreat to the atmosphere. The new team was coming together like a well-oiled machine.

Now… if only this heartfelt connection between old friends would be good enough… Mayda could feel Syn’s worry of danger surrounding all other thoughts, like an envelope covering a classified document. Luckily, Syn sent the thought a few times in succession, and one broke through.

“Got it!” May exclaimed aloud, then repeated the word in her mind to Saskia, whose fingers deftly danced upon the buttons. Now it was all up to Saskia, Mayda could have a moment of reprise.

She sent back to Syn, “I got it. No need to come to this shuttle. Take your time extracting yourselves. And take care.”

She hoped this would allow Syn’s team to find their best way out, without further casualties for either clan. And she did hope to speak with this new Syn in the near future. For once Mayda cared for someone, a corpuscle of that feeling settled into a corner of her heart, forever enmeshing with the arteries and cells. When the feeling lie dormant, it would harden. Yet a spark of reminiscence would revive it, to a slowly burning ember.

Breaking her reverie, May turned toward Saskia, who was nodding that the information was being transferred successfully, as planned through a protected maze that was too complex for the pirates to be able to decipher if they were even able to notice the electronic signal.

It was secure now.

The shuttle began an ascent, careful of any laser fire whirring between ships in the atmosphere.


Red Fury Hanger

Daedric watched as the troopers clad in CSP armor took up support positions around the pinned Dark Jedi. He laughed as one feel into one the crates. The trooper got back up and looked around, hoping no one had seen the blunder. Daedric laughed to him self and patted his Sith Master on the arm.

“Tell me you seen that.” Daedric stated, still with a chuckle in his voice. It was strange, Daedric never felt more at home than having bolts of hot plasma flying over his head and explosions rocking his surroundings. This was what he loved. Chaos, death and battle. From a little kid this is all he knew. “You can’t fix stupid, my Apprentice.” Macron stated.

The bolts flying atop their heads began to reduce in frequency as the Palatinae Troopers began to return fire. Daedric looked over at his Apprentice. “Bentre, how much ammunition do you have left?” Daedric questioned. One thing he learned in combat was if you run out of ammunition, you die and dying was not on his agenda. “Master Turelles, I’m low. Maybe 20 more rounds and that’s it.” Daedric looked at Bentre. Anger began to swell inside like an inferno. “You have failed me, Stahoes. Next time we come into an active warzone, how about packing more than a scout load?” His eyes gazed into his young Apprentices. It seemed as if the world had stopped as the two starred at each other. Mortor round still landing around the group as the Palatinae troops still fought.

“Looks like you’ve trained him well, Macron.” Shi Long muttered as he leaned over to Macron. “Heh, yeah I guess so,” Macron stated in reply. “It looks like the transformation has started. The order is taking root.” Macron finished.

“Yes, Master Turelles” Bentre finally stated as he dropped his head in submission. “Now,” Daedric started, “shall we get to the killing?” Daedric questioned with a smile to his face. Sinister in intention. Daedric, Macron, Shi Long and Bentre all flanked from the crates that had been behind and began to push the assault with Palatinae troops following directly behind them.


Back in the hall, Anima was still on his deadly rampage. Tasha watched in amazement as this beastly sith tore down pirates like they were mere tissues. He hacked, slashed, kicked, and even headbutted pirates as they tried to swarm this unstoppable behemoth. Tasha, meanwhile had joined in the slaughter, slicing down pirates with her crimson blade. “We need to get out of here Anima! Syn and the data she holds are top priority!” She yelled over the screams and cracking of skulls around her.

“Working on it!” Anima roared back as he started carving a path through the pirates.

“The rendezvous point is not that far from here.” Sang called out while knocking a couple pirates down.

“Shouldn’t be too much longer and we will punch through.” Tasha replied. Soon the team was able to drive pirates just enough for all of them to sprint for the exit to the ship. Suddenly, one of the pirates threw a thermal detonator towards the group. Calming her mind, Tasha focused on the incoming detonator and sent it flying right back at the pirates.

“Get down!” Tasha yelled and crouched down behind a storage unit as the detonator smacked into the pirate and blew up. Sang, Syn and Anima thankfully found a couple places to take cover before the blast. Pieces of charred flesh began raining down as Tasha looked out towards the exit.

“Run for it, guys I think that cleared them out temporarily.” Swiftly, Tasha rose and darted towards the opening that lay in front of her.


The Corellian Obelisk cast a sideways glance at his Sith Master as he stepped up into a loose formation with the others. One of these days, he stared forward, looking at the remaining pirates I will knock you down, Master. He tried to push the thought out of his mind, though. But for now, I guess I will just have to content myself with gathering heads for old man Bob. His ears had burned at his Master’s chiding, and he’d found it easier to hang his head in mock shame then argue in the middle of a battlefield.

As the four began their charge, Master and student fell into step together. The red and blue of their respective weapons contrasted sharply on the battlefield, creating a beacon of doom. Bentre smiled a little more with each step as he imagined the terror the pirates felt, seeing the quartet carving their way through the battlefield.

That pleasure was realized as soon as they reached the first group of retreating pirates. Several brigands fell quickly to the aggressive strikes, flowing stabs, and even the Guardian’s simple but well-practiced chops.

“This is a little tougher on the battlefield,” Bentre muttered as he wiped sweat from his brow. The four of them were making good time, but the others were keeping pace with a bit more ease.

“Come on, Apprentice,” Daedric urged without turning from the task at hand, “Keep pushing.”

“Have a little fun,” Macron chimed in, “Don’t be a kill joy. After all,” As the Sith cast out his hand, his lightsaber flying into the chest of a rapidly retreating pirate. Without missing a beat, the weapon returned to its owner’s hand before being brought about in a parry and a thrust. “It’s a party.” The menace in his tone was not lost on the younger man.

“I never said I was going to back down,” Bentre shook his head, bringing his weapon down in a calculated cut, “If I have my way, we are going to cut our way right into the heart of the remaining pirates and then carve through the lot of them.”


The 2nd Cavalry Company finished rousting the last of the pirates from the Communications Center. Armad, aboard the AT-AT, was looking over field reports from the various trooper squads within the Center, when he noticed that Delak’s tank group broke off from their overwatch position and started making their way towards the hangar. Delak must have gotten orders to head there, but being one to not miss out on some killing, Armad made the decision to follow Delak’s lead and make his way to the hangar as well.

Armad arrived a few minutes after the CSP tanks and watched as one of the tanks winged a YT-1300 that had just tried to escape. Keying his comlink, he commented to his CSP counterpart, “Nice shot Delak!”

“That prize belongs to CSP, Sadowan.” Delak responded, as a couple of CSP tanks started moving towards the freighters crash site.

“Not to worry, if I’d been able to get a shot off, let alone a hit, then I might have given you a challenge for it. But the prize is yours.” Armad laughingly responded. “I’m here to kill pirates and cover our intrusion teams as they exfiltrate to their rendezvous points.”

“Understood Armad, we’ll assist where we can, but our orders are to not allow any ships to escape.” Delak countered.

“Nothing shall reach the skies!” Armad challenged the pirates. Then turned and ordered the drivers to target any and all pirate troops on the ground, but to keep an eye on the hangar exits for any ships trying to leave.


Red Fury Hanger
Turret Control Room

The damaged sensor showed an ominous cloud of various ships in the atmosphere of the Atlas moon. Bob glanced over each ship doing his best to identify friend or foe, even though that line was a bit hazy with another rival clan involved.

With a push of a button the turret lasers shredded an “ugly” that looked like the unwanted result of a B-wing, Tie Interceptor, and N-1 starfighter threesome. The ugly didn’t blow up, just spun on a ballistic trajectory that would end on the rocky surface of the Atlas moon.

Picking out a Lambda-class shuttle, the Sith Warlord switched the turret gun into dual fire. The targeting computer bracket changed color and the pure audible tone of a good target lock sounded. Bob reached for the fire switch but paused. “Another time and place perhaps,” the Sith thought and he moved off the target and began to focus on just the fleeing craft.

After a few more ships vaporized Bob looked at Scithe, “Time to go?”

“Time to go,” the Battlemaster replied.

The two elderly Sith shredded the last of the operational turret controls with their sabers and exited to join the fun with their clan mates.


And just like that the YT-1300 had been shot down.

“Nice shot Delak, present for the Emperor?” Cruise said to the Obelisk.

“Yeah man, in all honesty I just wanted to shoot something out of the sky today, haha. You think you can get over to the ship and secure it. Your the CSP pilot man, not me.” Delak asked Cruise.

“Yeah no problem. I like a good ground fight every now and then, but man I was meant to be in the Stars. This ship will be the glory of our Empire once we clean it up.” The Sith said wiping the fresh blood off his blade handle.

Landon Cruise proceeded over to the downed freighter taking a platoon of CSP soldiers with him.

Once at the crash site, the smell of burning electronics was everywhere. Looking inside the wreckage, Landon could see the ship could be saved, but would need to be gutted before being presented to the Emperor as a prize.

“Damn Delak, he really knows how to aim for the sweet spot. Couple more inches and this might have been impossible to salvage.” Cruise muttered to a soldiers surrounding him.

“Alright men, the battle is winding down. We need to get some wreckers in her and engineers to bring this back to the Palace hangers. Once there we can officially turn this Pirates pride, into our new trophy. First man to get the ball rolling gets a case of the finest upon return. As for me I need to get back with Delak and the other Forces to ensure the final push is successful.” Cruise said to the gathers Forces around the wreckage.”

Cruise made his way with a half a platoon of soldiers in the directions of the last sounds of destruction in the distance.


The Sadowans advanced with a couple of squads of commandoes behind them. Sabers deflected bolts back at the remaining pirates while the Scholae troopers put down a massive barrage of covering fire as they all ran for the enemy positions. The remaining commandoes were busy placing pinpoint fire on the enemy’s e-web so that the attacking members of the Brotherhood forces could get launch their final assault.

The four members of Naga Sadow leapt over the makeshift barricades and began cutting down the heavy weapon’s gunnery crew in seconds. Expertly taking the pirates out, three of them moved together as if one while Shi looked like he was fighting on pure rage.

With the pirates’ main weapon now down, Dante shouted “Remaining squads, move forward!” as the rest of the Scholae special forces troopers left their cover and began advancing on the pirates.

A voice popped into comm set and saying “Dante… outside perimeter is secure. Combined armor units are taking anything out that can take off or head your way.”

“Roger that, Delak… just make sure they can’t escape. We’ll finish them off in here,” replied Kell as he swatted away a blaster bolt and then beheaded the nearest pirate. Dante and the troopers waded into the melee that was the remaining pirates against the combine Scholae and Sadowan force. “Getting busy in here. Will call again when we’re finished. Dante out!” he yelled as he cut the transmission and narrowly missed getting sliced by one of the younger members of Naga Sadow. “Watch that thing or I’ll show it somewhere your master will never find it!” grunted Kell at the journeyman with the floppy hair.

The young Corellian just shrugged his head nonchalantly at the much larger Obelisk and then returned to the battle with gross indifference.

Dante growled softly to himself and then set himself back to the task at hand: annihilating the pirates and the threat that they were to his clan.


Red Fury Base
Hangar Interior

With Bob and Scithe re-joining Macron, Daedric, Bentre, and Shi Long a things had almost wrapped up in the hangar. The Scholae Palatinae troopers also moving in had sealed the deal and enabled the warriors to finally begin to rout the dug-in pirates. Some ships had launched, true. A few of those had been shot down by the armor units on both sides, and those who had run that gauntlet were promptly engaged by the plethora of starfighters in orbit above the moon.

Macron found himself fighting in the very front nearly alongside Kell Dante, who he recognized from the Halls of the Brotherhood. Dante had seen and fought against the Vong invasion and in many other campaigns as a professional warrior. “Field Marshal Dante,” nodded the madman respectfully as he deflected a blaster bolt with his tangerine colored lightsaber. “Thanks for the assist.” Behind them the others were finishing off the stragglers.

“Marshal Commander Sadow,” replied Dante curtly. He knew of the Alchemist’’s unsavory reputation for brutality and it did not exactly jive with his own sense of honor. Still, he had heard rumors the Sadow had his own odd code of behavior as well. Either way in this situation another Elder who was an experienced fighter was a valued asset. “Let’s you and I put an end to that damned mortar position.”

“Copy that,” replied the Juggernaut. “On three?” The Sith Elder looked about and found a perfect pile of flaming starship debris. “I’ll soften ‘em up, you hit them, and I’ll follow?”

“Simple, but that works. One, two, THREE!” shouted the Obelisk Adept as his body reverberated with battle fury and the Marauder charged with impossible speed.

Behind him, Macron screamed in rage and used the Force to telekinetically throw several tons of burning durasteel chunks at the position, crushing several pirates outright. This was a potent distraction and it unmanned them. They were completely unprepared for what happened next.

Then Dante was on the mortar operators like a thunderbolt. His purple blade flashed right and left, sweeping the arms off of the two pirates with perfectly placed strikes. They screamed and fell, stumps smoking as they tried to clutch at their wounds with non-existent hands. His next shatterpoint strike swept down the loader who was reaching to detonate the pile of grenades. The loader was far too slow, and either way with nothing but stumps for wrists it was awfully hard to trigger a switch.

Macron Sadow was right behind him. The e-web operators were rapidly cut in half at the waist with precise strikes. Unlike Dante, Macron had no qualms about straight-up killing anyone that got in his way. A spinning back-kick thudded into the gut of the last pirate who had been raising a blaster carbine. As he flew backwards, lightning followed him to the wall and illuminated his bones with fire and agony. He fell to the floor smoking and dead. Aside from the groans of the dying, not much else moved in the hangar that wasn’t either a Sadow or Scholae operative.

Marcus and Galleros stepped out from the control bay door, the signs of battle on their faces. An explosion reverberated from inside the compound where Sanguinus, Syntari, Tasha and Anima were located.

“Looks like it’s wrapping up nicely,” commented Quaestor Galleros. “We shut down their launch controls pretty effectively with our infiltration. I see you folks created a ruckus out here…” he said as his eyes drifted about. “My. You guys go the extra mile, I must say.”

“I think they are done for.” Kell Dante triggered his comlink and began giving orders to the Palatinae forces, ever the professional. “Looks like most of the craft that launched got shot down, one way or the other.”

“Our pleasure, bossman,” chuckled Bob Sadow. “Drinks are on the house, right?”

Scithe smiled as the two older Sadows leaned against a bulkhead. “Yeah. Thirsty work, you know? Let’s hope Mayda and the others got that data.”

Daedric checked his own com feed. “Armad is reporting that the Sadow armor units have moved in, and there is little resistance left. It seems the Scholae forces have done the same. Remarkable coordination, for rival Dark Jedi.”

Shi wiped the sweat from his brow as Macron handed him a glittering red gem. “I dug this up on that Inos moon. Your… former self had intended to come back for it. I thought you should have it.” Macron regarded Daedric and Bentre as they talked between themselves. He could feel the anger in Bentre. “Just like a proper Sith… wanting to kill his Master. Good,” he thought. “Good.”