The battle to the front was chaotic for Iirim. He ditched the helmet halfway through. Not that the constant chime of 'Skytrooper, left. Skytrooper, ahead.' wasn't helpful, but at some point he stopped listening and started just using his instincts instead anyway. He'd salvaged the comm, though, and strapped that to one ear. He'd apologize to Urziya later.
Force, but this was a rush. He forgot how much he missed this... fighting. And he was good at it. Master Keyva had seen to that, extensively. When they weren't in a battlefield, they were training, and when they weren't training, they were waiting for their next battle. It was her way. And now it was his, too. It flowed naturally from him, like his breath. Foes loomed out of blank whiteness, invisible to him until they were close enough to become silhouettes, and he had only instants to register they were there, strike, and reduce them to sliced-up piles of red-hot scrap. Sometimes he saw them, sensed them. Sometimes instinct just told him to block, or strike, and he was surprised to find that his blade connected. As tempting as it was to use the Force for anything but Sense abilities, that came less naturally to him now than just grabbing skytroopers and throwing them, or jabbing them with an armored elbow, or bladework. Every near-miss, every hiss of plasma against his hair or his clothing or his armor, just made it quicker, drove him deeper into familiar territory, a small storm of dark colors and cascading blue as he made his way to the bunker. It was a continuous pattern, miss-parry-hit-strike, that he fell further into the more they made their way across the battlefield.
Hark’s voice sounded over the comm now and again, giving out warnings, directing the battle from afar. It let Iirim know where things were, even if the distant parts of the battle were outside his field of perception. He sensed something like horror, briefly, then it was gone. Another dead, maybe… Iirim didn't have the luxury of tuning out. He relied on his extra senses to stay alive, if his ears and the feeling of air near skin failed him. He felt everything. For the second time in the battle, he was grudgingly grateful to his master, for teaching him to move in meditation, put his mind outside himself, to find harmony with the battle. And he was grateful for his own rebellion and curiosity about things she wouldn't have approved of. There was a distinct darkness to what he felt from Exephos’s men, fighting, dying, and the fear surrounding most of the living things on the field. He could use that, instead of letting it overwhelm him.
He sensed a stirring, the darkness gathering thickly around once person darting back and forth. “Karmic, I can see you,” he warned. “Enjoying the slaughter a little too much I think…”
“No such thing!” Came the laughing response of the fighting Pureblood. “But acknowledged!” The Darth refocused herself, paying more attention to when and where she was allowing herself to be seen and allowing the Darkness its freedom. The idea of being submerged in a Kolto tank more of a threat to her than the pain of an injury.
Urziya was, on the very opposite end of the spectrum, not enjoying her sight. Skytroopers glinted in the sunlight--garishly, horribly--and there were enough of them that it looked like a bright sea. She actually shut off her visuals and started relying on the HUD, and things went smoother after that. See a skytrooper? Shoot a skytrooper. See some enemy getting too close to a clanmate? Shoot that too. Terrnock was at her back, doing the same thing, though he let things get close enough to stab now and again too. Urziya couldn't see Iirim--he was shorter than the skytroopers, as it turned out--but the hum of the saber was unmistakeable, especially with her montrals giving some extra feedback, so she always knew where he was.
Hark’s warnings over the comms helped too. In the heat of battle, it didn’t seem to matter that the orders came from someone else. She was happy to serve as long as it meant this--the scent of blaster fire and renting metal, the heat of plasma, blood, fire, and motion warming the air, the sense of two dozen people she knew and trusted with her life beside her, everyone moving as if one mind. It felt like home. Here, there was no fear, not if she let fire fill her heart instead; no chaos, if she trusted her clan and her allies; no uncertainty if she could replace it with righteousness. War was righteous, following her leader's footsteps to war with Zakuul was righteous, and helping the people of this galaxy claw their way out from under Zakuul’s grip was certainly righteous in its own right. For the first time since she was a teenager, Urziya felt like she was where she was meant to be, beside kin, clan, and her friends.
The Mandalorians got to the bunker with few losses, though a few were now sporting charred armor, missing weapons, and gaps where segmented plates had been. When they reached their destination, Urziya tapped the comms, and a "HOLD UP" crackled across everyone's link. "Droids first!" she reminded them, then turned around, guarding their backs. The first wave of droids triggered a very satisfying collection of explosions, bits of droid raining down on the group behind them. "Okay! Now we go!"
Karmic rematerialized next to the Mandos, and Iirim, a few moments after they finished off the droids and began moving inside the bunker. Her red armor was spattered with dirt, mud, blood, and gore, but if any of it was hers she gave no sign of it.
“What? Were you guys gonna go in without me?” The modified voice through the helmet called out, followed by a brief snicker.
“Maybe this is a bit excessive...?” The excess had hardly begun, as the gunships opened fire on Taelios during their approach. The seemingly unending hailstorm of blaster fire concentrated on the puny Juggernaut was met only with the equally unerring tune of the Patron Saint’s cheerful laughter. Now fully encircled, the Sith once again hurled himself skywards, if only for a bit of breathing room. He accelerated rapidly, breaking cloud cover in a matter of seconds. Pursued by the gunships, he decided he’d try something he’d always wanted to try.
The telltale explosion of a broken sound-barrier was accompanied by a shockwave which knocked several pursuing gunships off-course. As the Sith careened at supersonic speeds towards the top of a Zakuulian walker, a Knight of Zakuul caught sense of him in the force. A well-timed force push knocked him off of his flight path.
As he careened towards the ground, Taelios hurled a humming flask and bolt of lightning at the offending Knight. It exploded with the force of a thermal detonator, incinerating the Knight who had leapt from the dropship. Taelios collided headfirst with the cold, hard ground. Leaving a sizeable crater, it took him a moment to regain his feet, and it took only that moment for the dropships to land and offload their reinforcements. Taelios was encircled by the might of Zakuul’s forces, and the anticipation was showing on his face.
The frontline of the reinforcements was comprised of five Knights, including their captain. As the aurodium armored behemoths approached Taelios, the Sith took the initiative once again and ripped the lightsaber pike from the hands of an unsuspecting Knight. The man quickly replaced his weapon with a backup saber, though he uttered an audible grumble of annoyance.
The pike itself was in Tae’s hand for naught but a brief second before it was loosed once more, whirling about as it was propelled by the force to cleave swaths through the approaching Skytrooper assault. Both offense and defense, the blade deflected the majority of incoming fire, leaving Taelios free to deal with the Knights as he saw fit.
As he saw fit, it seems, was without any sense of caution or self-preservation. He hurled himself at the nearest shield, knocking the man behind it off balance. Before he could land a strike, however, he was knocked off balance himself by a thunderous shield bash which nearly sent him sprawling.
Maintaining his balance, he thumbed his nose at the Knights, chuckling especially at the one he had disarmed. The whirling saberpike intercepted a volley of incoming fire from the Walkers, which were now being pelted by the shells of fallen skytroopers. With a vicious upwards swing, the blade cleaved vertically through the majority of one of the remaining walkers, disabling it as it staggered sideways before collapsing. The weapon, now damaged beyond repair, remained lodged within the armored wreck.
Orders barked by the Knight-Captain incensed the golden warriors to greater fervor, and they began to strike at Taelios more rapidly and viciously than before. Several strikes eluded parrying hands and struck true even past weaving dodges, though they sparked off of the diminutive Pureblood’s flesh as if undertuned.
Taelios, in between waves of saber strikes and shield rushes, managed to thrust a palm into the ground. The resulting quake was enough to knock the surrounding Knights off their balance long enough for the Sith to hurl himself feet-first at the Knight-Captain. A hulk among behemoths, the Knight-Captain easily doubled Taelios in size and caught him by the feet with a single hand. The Zakuulian spun once, and hurled Taelios much like a shotput through a nearby stone hut.
There's a few facts to all building designs, Quarasha knew. They have to support their own weight, they need to balance security with accessibility... and the inhabitants of the building generally need to breathe. It's a weakness in all buildings, and while you couldn't always climb through the vents, they tend to be easier to cut through than primary walls.
The alarms were blaring inside the bunker by the time the Sith had carved through the intake system and reached an actual room. Air shouldn't get thin for a few hours, at least, so the only reason anyone would come to see what was the matter would be if there were some intelligent guards around.
The pounding of boots against steel plates made Quarasha smile. "Smart guards..."
A few moments later, the door to the small maintenance room was kicked open, the steel gleam of a Skytrooper behind it, quickly replaced as a Zakuul Knight pushed his way inside. "...damn it," he said, staring at the twisted metal and glowing edges that had marked Quarasha's progress. "Exarch, we have-"
The Knight turned at the sound of a Lightsaber, and was met by a Skytrooper, impaled on a gleaming, purple blade. "An intruder?" Quarasha joked, stepping back as the Knight activated his Lightsaber Pike.
There was no grand battle cry or exchange of threats. The Knight charged, using the length of his lance to drive Quarasha back into the hallway he had just come from. A low slash dodged, but the Sith's counter was met by the lance's shaft, the cortosis-weave holding the purple beam.
Quarasha glared at the golden blade, stalking backwards. "...you're better than-" she began, before the Knight thrust again. "I was talk-" she said, before another strike interrupted her.
This wide slash was blocked by Quarasha, locking the blades together. "Rude of you."
"I duel in silence," he said, reversing the grip of his forehand and using the leverage to drive his foe into the wall, the smaller woman easier to push around. "You will die that way."
The fight had lasted what seemed to have been an eternity, but it couldn’t have been that long. The Viper could hear the walkers quite well now, they seemed to be advancing closer. As if by thinking such thoughts, a shallow slash nearly seared him despite a miss, as he wove back and forth in the nick of time. His fight was not going well, despite his expertise in the subject. The force wasn’t providing him with a path, the warzone had so much death and danger, that it was practically going off all around him. And despite how young the Exarch seemed; he was powerful. Far more powerful than most he had seen. He readied himself. He was out of time. The Walkers would be in firing range any minute, and if the Exarch picked up on that; he’d probably give up on it being just the two of them. The Exarch threw out a lazily arcing blow, and The Viper found his opening to strike. With a bout of lightning swiftness provided by the force, he struck a blow to the Exarch’s pike shoulder, his riposte hitting precisely through the other’s armor. The only warning that he erred was the yellow flash of the Exarch’s shoto slicing through his mask.
“To your stations!” Exephos shouted as their time of respite came to an end. The had encircled the bunker as they had taken it, the outlying skirmish units in the process of making their way ponderously back to the bunker. The dropships from the fortress above had simply made it first.
The Eternal Empire was coming; and they wanted their bunker back.
He reached around to where he’d slung his SO-72 on his back and grabbed it, hauling it into the at-ready position to fire before striding over to the perimeter of their defense.
“Stars help us.” Exephos muttered, looking out at the hordes of skytroopers, both airborne and on the land, charging towards their position.
Damn the coalition. Damn them all for dragging them back into this hell.
“Light them up!” He ordered, opening fire with his rotary cannon.
Along the line, his dear troops followed suit; putting their shoulders into their large rifles as they put blaster bolts down range.
Zakuul followed suit, blankets of return plasma impacting all around. Several of his troopers went down in the initial volley whilst the nearby crews on the repeaters ratcheted back the operating mechanism and opened up with the large crew-served support weapons.
“Hold the line!” Exephos roared, blasting into the approaching crowds of droids.
The lance walkers opened fire around the bunker, sending out powerful bursts from their repeaters and clusters of missiles into the masses of the skytrooper divisions, but it still wasn’t enough.
The familiar form of Captain Ringo moved into his view as the old veteran braced his HBR against a crate and shot bursts into the attacking mass.
“Come on! Do as we traine-” The captain started to shout, before a blue blaster bolt hit him square in the chest.
“Ringo!” Exephos shouted, before renewing his effort to lay down a blanket of fire on the skytroopers ahead of the beleaguered officer.
But instead of staying down, the captain stood tall with his weapon; facing down the enforcers of the Eternal Empire.
“Ringo, get down!” Exephos yelled, just as the captain hauled up his rifle and shot down an opposing squad from the hip.
He started towards the aged soldier even as a second blaster bolt struck the trooper in the arm. Just as he was approaching him, a rocket struck the ground between them, throwing Exephos backwards to the ground.
He was on his feet in what felt like milliseconds.
“Ringo!” He hollered, looking towards where the captain had stood.
His fallen form lay there, a charred and damaged helmet rocking on the ground beside him.
Exephos ran to the soldier, but he already knew it was too late. The venerable old baron of the war had been the closest thing he had to a mentor through his years when he first took over command of the Ninety-Fifth. Now…
He was gone.
Those with heavy armor had rushed in first, led by Terrnock and anyone going with him, followed by a lighter-geared Urziya and the rest. Iirim had caught up to her there, armor scratched and dented, but otherwise alive and well. He flashed a grin and fell into step next to her.
"You lost your helmet!" she complained.
"Kept some of it."
"But--"
"There's living things in there. I can feel it through the walls. I'm going on ahead.” Iirim stated simply, cutting her off.
Karmic too had joined them. She nodded at Iirim’s statement, feeling the same he felt through the Force. “Aye, a number of lifeforms.” Karmic’s death’s head masque turned and nodded to Urziya as Iirim moved ahead, “Don’t worry… I’ll be out front with him as well.” She disappeared from sight again as she stealthed and shot ahead to join Iirim already yards ahead.
Urziya let out a small groan. “Why does that not comfort me…” she muttered, but stuck by her clan instead. Iirim would be fine. He was used to dealing with Sith. She pressed forward, blasting anything that emerged behind Karmic or past the Sith in the shadows. She could at least give them some cover fire.
Karmic’s disembodied voice was heard to Iirim’s left and then ahead of him as the stealthed Darth moved invisibly to ‘point’. She released her Darkness to range out in all directions around them, much like the field the clone of her former master had used elsewhere in the battle - sensing out for lifesigns and hidden threats in the bunker.
“Hey… don’t you know it's my job to take Point…” She joked with him as she passed him, and then suddenly pulled up short - popping out of stealth with her arm extended in front of Iririm, stopping him from moving forward ahead of her.
Iirim didn’t reply to the comment, focused instead on the fight and the senses he was getting through the Force. He felt Karmic’s arm touch his armor, and paused, stepping back to keep his saber readied. “What do you see?” he asked lowly, so that hopefully the lifeforms ahead wouldn’t hear him.
Her helmeted head was cocked sideways, “Two Knights…” she whispered through the Force to her companion. “Around the next corner… a few dozen yards ahead and moving this way.” She waited to see if Irim had a response before she disappeared again and moved forward.
Iirim nodded, darting out into the hallway as she vanished in the Force. "I'll give them something to focus their attention on, then..."
A very lightly armed man with a very brightly colored lightsaber would do the trick. Iirim skidded to a stop in front of the two Knights, and before he could process how incredibly reckless and foolish this was, gave them a salute and sank into a very flashy guard stance. The two barely stopped in their tracks before one crossed the hallway with a Force-leap, aiming his lightsaber pike at Iirim's head. The Miraluka parried the blow, twirling out of the way, and kept watchful attention on the other one as he waited for another blow to come.
'Anytime, Karmic,' he thought, as the other Knight charged towards him as well, saber in hand.
If Iirim could have seen Karmic's eyes, he would have seen them get bigger as he darted out around the corner and "got their attention."
He's got guts... gotta give him that. She thought as she continued moving forward quickly as the first knight force-jumped to the Miraluka and she felt his defense behind her. She had to fight with herself to let the first Knight charge at an 'unprotected' Iirim, but she knew it would be better to stay hidden and engage the other one in surprise than to leap to Iirim's defense.
Quarasha grimaced, the crackling blades only centimeters away from her face, slowly getting closer, the Force too difficult to summon without risking losing the lightsaber that was keeping her alive.
She pushed against the wall with a roar of anger, before letting go of her own Lightsaber and ducking down. In theory, if you ducked low enough, spun quickly and took hold of the discarded lightsaber with the Force-
...you could watch the Knight slash the hilt in two as you reach a ready position.
She felt the Dark Reaper's power call to her. The Knight was approaching, golden spear ready to pierce the Sith in her heart, Quarasha defenseless, she could charge the foolish Zakuulan, drain his essence and mend whatever injuries the charge inflicted...
She shook it off. "...not last resort yet..." The Force wrapped around her instead, hiding her from sight just as the Knight's thrust began. He was fully extended by the time Quarasha's burst of speed brought her to his side, a small cut in her side from the too-near miss.
Her first strike went for the windpipe. Armored, but the burst of lightning stunned him all the same. She slipped behind the Knight and her heel at the back of his knee buckled his legs, his head bowed, the Zakuulian swearing.
Quarasha learned long, long ago that a Lightsaber was too obvious, too loud for the duties of a "Sith Diplomat". Better known as an Assassin that's good with words. A small, thin blade could not only get the quiet kill, but the kill that best fits the story.
One more strike pushed the Knight's helmet up, just enough for the vibroblade to slip into the gap between plate and plate, between seams in the under-armor, between vertebra and vertebra.
The Sith frowned as the Knight crumpled to the ground. "...a quick death. Well fought," she muttered, just in case the body could still hear her. "...and thank you for the loan of a weapon," she said, picking up the Lightsaber Pike, venturing towards the shield generator's control center.
As blaster fire ripped through the already structurally compromised shack, Taelios groaned. He was unsteady, but on his feet. On his feet meant that he should keep going. Rubble and debris stirred about the bruised and battered Sith, and lightning fizzled and sparked in the air. Another tell-tale shockwave dissipated what remained of the hut, sending debris flying into the approaching skytroopers. Taelios himself had launched himself towards the offending Knight-Captain, and reduced him to a fine paste as he shoulder-checked him before pelting him with the remains of the hut.
The remaining Knights, visibly shaken without the presence of their leader, nevertheless press their assault. They closed the distance with Taelios using force-empowered leaps of their own, attempting to batter the Pureblood into submission. In their efforts, however, they had managed very little but to pester the Sith into action. He hastily grabbed at the nearest shield, earning himself several direct strikes from lightsaber pikes and sabers. Freeing the shield from its owner with a surge of lightning, he whirled in a circle still gripping the massive blunt object. The sheer force sent the surrounding Knights flying, shattering the ribs of the one most unfortunate to be struck first.
Clear of the Knights for now, the remaining Zakuulian armor had a clear shot on Taelios. The walkers let loose with a barrage of missiles and blaster fire, intent now on wiping the tiny red upstart from the face of the galaxy. The surrounding skytroopers opened fire in similar fashion, and the waves of firepower washed over Taelios and his barrier. For his part, Tae also loosed bolts of lightning at the incoming missiles as best he could, detonating them safely enough for his liking. Once again, his barrier began to falter, and the concentrated fire on his location kicked up a cloud of dust. As the blaster fire came to a halt, the dust cloud remained, obscuring vision of the battlefield. The skytroopers, however, did not cease their firing. As the dust settled, it was readily apparent why. Taelios stood, panting and bruised, designer synthleather trenchcoat now shredded beyond repair.
He sighed. “This has been fun, but I’m getting a little tired. I figure I should finish this off now and then I can have a nap…” The Pureblood giggled even as one fortunate skytrooper landed a direct shot to his adorable face. He began to ascend from his line drawn in the sand, lightning beginning to spark outward towards the nearest targets. The Sith Lightning scorched waves of skytroopers and incinerated the Knights in their golden armor, and showed no signs of receding as Taelios ascended.
The bolts did not discriminate, however, and as Tae gained in height, the dropships attempted to pursue and were reduced to flaming wreckage in short order. Tae’s lightning set trees ablaze and began to assail the structures of the village. The walkers went in short order as well, shielding overloaded and armored hulls melted to slag. Still, he ascended further.
Careful to contain his destruction to the Zakuulian division nearby, and perhaps the local ecosystem, a pulse of raw force energy burst from the Sith, powerful enough to be sensed by others onworld to be certain. This pulse was followed by a massive surge of lightning, frying the circuitry of the majority of the skytroopers nearby. Taelios seemed to feel faint, and carefully came to land in the dirt of the now burning village. He fashioned himself a pillow out of the line drawn in the sand, and allowed himself to rest.
It had taken the Sith some time to find a proper maintenance access, but now Quarasha was high above the battle for control of the bunker, between a pair of Zakuul Knights and the group of Karmic, Iirim, Urziya and a mess of Mandalorians. Count on Karmic to make an impression, and Mandalorians to be excellent at picking fights…
She looked back to the main controls. On one hand, she could drop down, help with the Knights, and then they could take out the generator once the battle was won. On the other hand, the wound in her side distracted with nearly every breath, the generator was the only objective that actually mattered here, and it was being guarded by two people that looked more accustomed to holding wrenches than blasters.
Quarasha bounded forward, from pipe to support, eyes focused on the increasingly nervous guards oblivious to her approach. With her foot on the last pipe, she lept, arcing down at the nearest guard, a flick of the wrist igniting the golden blade of the lightsaber pike and sending it flying.
As Quarasha landed on the guard, slamming him to the ground under her weight with a blast of lightning to provide just the right amount of overkill, the pike hit the second guard square in the chest, a weak cry the only sign of her assault.
She'd seen the plans and analyzed how the Alliance had taken down the generators. It wasn't as simple as just blowing the generator up, sadly. She needed to shut down the main power system, delay the auto-restart and physically damage the system via the explosives she had left, and the whole generator would collapse... but that would take time.
Hot. Fire. Pain. Death. Both his hands went to his face as he staggered backwards; the relatively short life of Harkasone Milan flashing before his eyes; coming in through the fierce pain that would put him down for good. He hadn’t felt anything like it before; it was as if his face was melting off. In the distance, as if at the end of a tunnel, he could hear Robin shout something. Further off, he could hear the Exarch howl with his own pain from the critical blow. And during a final few moments where he had some semblance of clarity after, he could feel the Exarch channeling his rage to finish the job.
He shortly decided that it was the oddest time to have an epiphany. He couldn’t sense the proper path through the danger through the force, because on the battlefield, there wasn’t any. Force users blocked out all external senses, since the pain would drive you crazy in a heartbeat. Well, the sane ones anyway. But if he couldn’t feel the danger, neither could the Exarch. Not that it would do him any good now… he could hear the thumps echoing through the forest as the Exarch wandered closer and closer; spinning his shoto.
He could feel his face contort into a frown despite the immense pain. No, the thumping was something else. Walkers…? A thought occurred to him, dangerous and likely resulting in his death. Well, Robin was right in the end, it was a suicide mission after all. His hoarse voice came out a whisper only it could hear.
“Repurpose those walkers. Tell them scouts have found an armored battalion deactivated and waiting in ambush in the tree line. Have them hit the walkers now before they activate. Light up the whole tree line. Give them my coordinates.”
He could hear Robin gasp somewhere far away. “Are you insane?!”
“Shut it. Just fire for effect and hope Exephos trained his men to shoot straight.”
He never heard the energy artillery blast that landed behind the Exarch, merely the merciful darkness sheltering him from the agony of his wounds.
“Ninety-Fifth, with me!” Exephos roared, opening fire just as his soldiers ducked out of the way.
“Today, we fight not for the uncaring bureaucrats of the Republic! Nor do we fight for that puppetmaster of the coalition! We fight for our survival, and for the survival of our legacy!” He boomed into the comms of his troopers, not stopping his tirade of weapons fire against the enemy who had draw to within ten meters of their barricades.
“Now stand fast! Defend yourselves, your brothers, and your sisters of war! For today… We fight to establish ourselves forever!” He thundered.
The Ninety-Fifth drew close, shoulder to shoulder as their battle lines backed up against the bunker walls even as the Eternal Empire advanced even closer, close enough that he could read the model numbers on each droid’s chestplate.
And yet, despite the overwhelming odds, the Ninety-Fifth was in their element.
This was how they had fought for decades. Backed against the wall, facing impossible odds. No-one to rely on but each other.
For every trooper that fell, he or she took fifty droids with him but yet, there was always another to take their place. Always another to gun down.
Exephos sustained multiple injuries over the course of the continuous fight, bits of shrapnel that penetrated his armour and pierced his legs. Cauterized blaster wounds that struck through his arm and shoulder, and a long thin cut across his side from another close call with a missile.
They killed droid after droid after droid for what felt like hours, though in reality, it was mere minutes.
He fell into a repetitive, mindless killing mode; gunning down skytrooper and organics alike, uncaring of who or what it was; simply whoever came into his cone of fire.
Until he looked around in confusion, with no skytroopers to shoot. Had they flown off to another front? What devilish trickery was Zakuul up to?
“Report in! Where’s the action?” Exephos called in over the comms as the troopers around him looked up from braced and covered positions, peering about for a target.
“No action, sir. Kriff me, but we killed them all…” Sergeant Imler replied through the comms from the opposite side of the bunker.
“Killed them… All?” Exephos muttered, looking out across the landscape.
A field of shattered casings, bits of debris, sparking wires, and disassembled helmets littered the ground, completely hiding the ground from sight.
“That would mean an entire division… In addition to their reserves…” He added to himself.
“Kriff… I can’t believe we did it.”
“Walker Bravo-Seven; Anvil.” His comms chimed.
“Anvil; Walker Bravo-Seven. Proceed.” Exephos returned with the standard exchange between vehicles and infantry.
“We have a confirmed KIA on the Exarch. Took IDs, samples, and souvenirs; then torched the body. Seems he was taken out by some YH-50s we put on a phantom armoured group.”
The tanker reported over the airwaves.
“Affirmative. Excellent work, now get yourselves loaded aboard that ship.” He replied, before cutting the channel.
“Tend to the wounded, and gather up the dead. Then head for that bulk freighter. I want our troops ready to go in under ten minutes.” He ordered towards the rest of the troops, before slinging his SO-72 over his back and activating the comms for the whole coalition.
“Exephos to all forces; we’ve eliminated ALL hostile opposition on the surface and the Exarch is down. We’re pulling out.” He reported into it quietly, before turning his back on the bunker, and the coalition.
The rest was up to them.
Luckily for her, Terrnock’s group of Mandalorians had the same idea, and had battled their way straight to the generator room. The Togruta and a pair of heavily armored warriors ran inside, spreading out immediately to cover the entrance. The man gave her a nod.
“Got your back, Sith,” he said. “Do your work, and leave the fun part for us.”
Quarasha nods at the Mandalorians rushing up. "Explosives are nearly set. Finish them up and then don't touch anything."
She moved to the console, jamming in the first of the half-dozen dataspikes specially made for the purpose. It was hardly the elegant example of slicing so many people had in their minds, but it did have one significant advantage: It worked, and didn't rely on the Sith Diplomat and Assassin to know anything about slicing beyond cutting things with a lightsaber.
The skytroopers noticed, of course. They kept piling in. Every time they did, they met a barrage of blaster bolts, or an electric shock from a handheld weapon, or sometimes a well-placed vibroblade. Terrnock and his people were soon ankle-deep in skytrooper parts, as Quarasha continued to carefully work the console under their cover.
Karmic had made her move as the other knight started charging, waiting until he had run several steps past her before she turned and brought the shorter-hilted of her two double-bladed sabers to bear and popped out of stealth with a force-leap towards the back of the golden Knight. She did take him by surprise, but unfortunately not surprise enough - just as she came down with her saber towards his head and back he managed to spin to the left as he tried to come around fully, and guard. She met his upturned pike with the full force of her saber and her descending weight, in a loud clash that drove the Knight to his knees as she was forced into a forward roll to his right to keep her balance. In the back of her mind, she was aware of Quarasha moving above them - making her way to set the charges.
He was back up and on her before she could restealth, and they traded several blocked blows before she swung her arm and flung the Knight several dozen feet away from her, slamming him into a wall. It didn't knock him out, but it bought her a few moments.
She looked back at Iirim and his fight, ready to come help if he should need it - before the 2nd Knight could reengage with her.
Sensing where Karmic was in the battle was too chaotic, used up too much energy as Iirim dealt with the Knight doing his very best to kill him. So, he focused on that instead, on the sounds of the Knight's weapon and armor, the rush of air every time the man moved. At least the saber was loud. The Miraluka parried a series of blows, spinning out of the way quickly as he darted around the blows with replies of his own. He settled into an Ataru form, using the Force, agility, and speed in his favor by comparison with the bulky Zakuulan. The problem was finding an opening to strike at.
The thud of the other Knight against the wall nearly brought him out of his meditative fighting state, and Iirim sidestepped a jab that came much too close for comfort. Karmic seemed to be having trouble with her Knight. He needed to speed this up. He dropped his guard, stepped into an aggressive stance, and struck hard and fast, repeatedly, at the Knight, aiming at the upper body. The man raised his arms to defend, and Iirim sensed his opening, jabbing his blade into the exposed gap between the arm and chestpiece of the plated armor.
He wrenched the blade out, letting the man stagger and fall, and began to run towards Karmic's fight. "Having some trouble, are we?" he called out, as if of course she needed his help.
As Karmic started to smile behind her helmet at his bantering words, the years of fighting and listening to the Force allowed her to make several realizations at once:
His Knight is not dead! He's getting up! He's not going to be able… Iirim!
Iirim sensed a stirring behind him, but too late, as Karmic's warning practically screamed through the Force at him. He whirled around, but caught the tip of the knight's pike through his upper shoulder before he could raise a parry. He cried out, his saber arm going numb as his own saber fell from his fingers, heard it clatter to the floor metallically.
Karmic moved in a blur, Force-leapt from behind him to next to him, hand outstretched even as she moved towards Iirim. The Force from the Sith's hand had an almost physical presence to the Miraluka senses, like dark tendrils - shooting out of her in an instant and slamming into the Knight behind him. The lightsaber pike's blade sputtered and died, leaving Iirim to sink and hold the wounded arm, searching for his saber with the Force. It gave him plenty of time to be aware of Karmic, standing protectively over him, holding the Knight motionless with the pulsating tendrils of energy. The black aura that he continually sensed around her, now extended from her, sucking the life Force out of the Knight and into the Darth in the space of a few seconds, before the armored husk was left to clatter to the floor. As Iirim shuffled behind her, cursing his wounded shoulder, he caught a quick sense of the other Knight, finally catching up.
"Karmic, behind," he called out.
At his words, she spun around and slammed that same hand, pulsing now with Dark Side energy, against the ground beneath them. The energy burst into a thick shield, engulfing the two crouched Coalition fighters, just in time to catch the blade of their second Knight.
The empty 'eye' sockets of the metallic skull glowed red as Karmic snarled back at the Knight trying to bear down on them. There was seemingly only half a foot of empty air between her metal face and the slicing downward stroke of his lightsaber pike, were it not for the buzzing purple sparks lighting up between the surface of her Force shield and the pike itself. Within the shield, a deep coldness had enveloped Iirim and Karmic both - a coldness Iirim recognized as the Dark Side in action. Despite this, he felt almost... safe. She was determined to protect him, an emotion he felt powerfully. He trusted it, even if he wasn't sure why.
Iirim felt Karmic bunch her muscles, clearly readying for another attack, when they heard the tinny clamor of armored boots bolting towards them. The presence to Iirim's wider senses was familiar, and welcome -- Urziya. The Togruta rounded the corner with a quick pattern of blaster bolts. The Knight was blown backwards with a sudden boom, flying through the air with few small holes and one large one in the front of his armored plating. Karmic and Iirim could smell the almost acrid scent of metal that had been nearly disintegrated.
Immediately the cold vanished, as the dark side force shield collapsed. Traces of darkness trailing back into and around Karmic as she let go of him completely and rolled sideways off of him and up to her feet. Her eyes still glowed through her helmet as she moved quickly to the Knight Urziya shot and made sure he was dead.
Iirim stood, hand still holding his shoulder, and flashed her a smile. "About time?"
"Told you I'd save your neck," the armored Togruta said. She bent down, retrieved his saber from the ground, and handed it back to him. As he took it back, he could feel the heat still emanating from her gauntlet where an explosive dart case now lay empty.
Karmic was looking up at the ceiling - still pacing over by the second Knight.
"Quar's set the charges," she said, abruptly, "We gotta get out of here..." Her voice was distracted, as if she was only half attentive to whatever it was she was doing. She started walking towards them, holstering her saber, eyes still shining. "Let's move." A chill followed with her as she moved off with them.
Iirim and Urziya both nodded, the Mandalorian turning on her jetpack with what Iirim was certain was glee. He smirked and ran after the two, speed enhanced by the Force. As they ran, Urziya called out to her clanmates, each falling in line behind as they finished off their last skytrooper.
Quarasha stared at the progress bar of the final dataspike. "85%... 88%... 96%... 98%... 98.5%... Done! Issuing the console's final commands, she glanced over her shoulder at the battle in progress. "Stop playing with your food and finish it already! We need to go!"
“Playing with your food,” one of the Mandos said, switching on jets and floating off the floor. “Says that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Let’s go,” Terrnock drawled, firing a shot to cover the Sith as she left the room. Over the comms crackled his voice: “Charges are set. Everyone clear out!”
Karmic hung back by the main entrance, pausing. She looked at the building, taking advantage of the surge into her own power - releasing the Darkness yet again to sense through the building; making sure allies were clear. She felt the first detonations go off seconds before sensing Quarasha finally exiting the building. Only then did she allow herself to force-run to catchup to the retreat before the rest of the explosion could catch her out.
She was already moving down the platform, past the others and towards the exit when she finally hit the button. The explosives detonated, turning the delicate electronics into a pile of shrapnel. The auto-restart process tried to reactivate primary power, but couldn't. The numerous safeties that would normally keep the secondary power system from overloading were disabled, thanks to the dataspikes. And without primary power, the system tried to make a weak and unstable power system shoulder the entire burden... with predictable results.
One system failed after another, fuses blowing out, consoles overloading, panels fizzling and exploding all across the installation. The process was at least long enough for the living to escape before the entire system went up in a fireball and cloud of debris that could be seen for miles...
