Battleteam Feud: Race for San Korinar

San Korinar, the cloud city that floats by itself in deep isolation in the mysterious skies of the gas giant Amphor, has fallen into the hands of a rogue clone who once served in the armies of Clan Naga Sadow. With the help of a covert team from Black Sun, the clone Krenth has begun smuggling tibanna gas out of the star system for his own shadowy backers.

Quaestors Shirai and Teu have both learned of this situation, but rather than informing each other, they have both chosen to deploy their own Battleteams to secure the Sky City first, and earn Consul Malik's favour.

In the end, the Sky City will only have room for one Battleteam, but which will it be?

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VSDII Covenant
San Korinar
Amphor


Sith Battlemaster Shirai Ryu Dupar walked on the bridge of the Victory-Class II Destroyer. As in most instances he was already clad in his battle robes, lightsaber and his trusty Westar-34 pistol on his sash. His plan to retake San Korinar was now in full fruition. He had believed that he had the jump over Teu but her web of spies were many. She found out and was on her way as well to take the Sky City back. Luckily Shirai had just arrived to the planet as the ship exited from hyperspace over Amphor. The atmosphere was just a chaotic as reports had shown. Never personally being on the planet before, it was apparent that it was dangerous to traverse with a ship such as the Covenant.

So Shirai came up with a battle plan he would be sharing with the rest of his lieutenants. The Quaestor of Shar Dakhan glided into the briefing room where the battleteam leaders were gathered. Sith Warrior Alexander DelGotto and Krath Archpriestess Izanami Kurai. The door closed behind Shirai and came to halt to the table they surrounded. "The time is near. Everything is in place so we have the means to take San Korinar. Before Teu interferes that is."

"So what is the plan?" Izanami asked.

Shirai held his wrist out and pressed down on the wristband. A blueprint screen popped up in front of them. It was an image of the large Public Core and connecting to it was a large space platform. "We need to hit them from multiple points. Here in the public core, and in the corporate wing where we believe their leader to be. Utilizing the MAAT's, the squadrons will be covering for you guys to take the spaceport and to land in the public core. As soon as you get clear, land and begin the assault. Devil's Shroud and Dakhani's Solutions will lead the charge with the troops. The Covenant cannot enter the atmosphere it would be to troublesome to maneuver through. But reinforcements are just a ride away."

"And if we run into Marka Ragnos forces?" The Sith Warrior noted.

"We shall...deal with them," Shirai replied without a hint of smirk. "Be ready to leave soon, and gather your equipment. I expect you'll be hearing from Aedile Locke in time."

Hangar Bay
VSDII Covenant
San Korinar
Amphor


“Sir, we have an incoming ship. It’s a transport, but not of any known design.” The Zabrak Yeoman touched the controls on the shields. “Your orders Major Deth?”

The flight officer looked at the screen. “You’re new here, aren't you son?” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I recognize the vessel. That's the Nachzerer. Let it land, and stay well clear. You don’t want to catch his notice.”

“His?” asked the Yeoman as he opened the bay shields. “I don’t understand sir.”

“Trust me, the less you interact with the Foxtrot Uniforms, the better. Especially that one. He’s quite mad. According to Admiral Simonetti, he force-choked the former captain of this ship to death for cowardice during the Vong War.” Major Syle Deth keyed his comlink as the Yeoman gulped nervously. “Captain Rineval, the Alchemist has landed.”

Briefing Room
VSDII Covenant
San Korinar
Amphor

The turbolift door opened with hiss, and the red-armored Sith walked into the room with a chuckle. “You rang? Hehe.” Macron bowed with a flourish. “You called, I came. I understand we’re going to San Korinar for a little party?”

“That’s right,” nodded Quaestor Shirai as Sith Warrior Alexander DelGotto and Krath Archpriestess Izanami Kurai stood close by. “Before Marka Ragnos and Teu’s minions get there.”

“I see,” commented the madman thoughtfully. “Are you sure I’m the right guy for this job? I might… accidentally kill a bunch of people. Hehe.”

“We’re counting on that, in fact. You’ll be leading the charge for Devil’s Shroud,” replied Alexander del Gotto. “Just do what you do best when we land.” The Battleteam leader pulled up a hologram of the core and landing area.

The Elder saluted with a chuckle. “Yessir! I’m your man then. Second floor, carnage, death, dismemberment and mayhem coming right up.”

Hangar Control
VSDII Covenant
Amphor Orbit

Locke watched from the back of the room as the Covenant's hangar captain maintained order while the pilots of it's two squadrons marched to their craft. With only twenty-something pilots, it didn't take much work to keep them organized, but they were not the only ones on the flight deck. There were also several MAAT transports, each embarking Warhost troops. Locke imagined there were Dahkani Dark Jedi among them as well. He had chosen to stand apart somewhat himself, seeking to observe what the House's Battleteams were capable of.

Still, the Krath's hands itched to be doing something. This conflict had come about partly because of his own mission and loyalty to his new Quaestor. He thought the House could improve their warfare abilities as a unit with this mission. The star destroyer's long range sensors had also detected other capital ships of the Warhost approaching from the far side of the planet, and Locke felt a familiar twinge in the Force. He had no doubt that Teu and her House were here as well. The Krath briefly wondered how they knew, and since they did, he suspected the Consul did as well. Yet Malik had not called off the strike or forced the separate groups to work together. What was his intent?

Locke needed to join the fight. He stepped forward, up beside the hangar captain. "Sir, are there any avaliable fighters that are unmanned?"

The captain seemed slightly startled for a moment, but he quickly scanned his view screens. "Yes, the Bantha's are down a pilot today," he said dubiously.

That would be a TIE Bomber, no doubt. The Dancing Banthas were the star destroyer's attached bomber squadron. Despite piloting older, outdated craft, the squadron's pilots had made something of a name for themselves in battle. Locke figured they had to be good to have survived in such craft as long as they had. The squadron's core membership had come together during the War of Sith Lords, fought against Zoraan's forces in the Horizons conflict, and then survived the entire Dark Crusade where more advanced fighters had perished.

Nevertheless, the man probably thought Locke would scoff at the idea. For a moment, the Aedile did hesitate. He was a Summit member again, responsible as one leader of a House, should he be putting himself in harm's way. That thought lasted barely a second before Locke made his decision.

"Four lasers good, two lasers baaaad," Amelia said, seeming to sense his choice. She smirked as she compared his usual X-Wing to the unshielded bomber.

"It has other weapons, " he said absently.

"Huh?" the captain asked. He looked around. Of course, he wouldn't acknowledge Amelia was there.

"Nothing, I'll take it." Amelia folded her arms and tossed her head, but Locke ignored her. He wondered if she would follow him even to a starfighter.

"Prepping Bantha ten," the captain said. "Good luck, Sir."

"Thanks," Locke answered, before exiting the hangar control room.

"What will your sister think of you putting your life at risk like this?" Amelia seemed amused and concerned at the same time.

"She won't know," Locke said. "You're certainly not going to tell her."

A few minutes later he lowered himself into a TIE/sa bomber cockpit, wearing a full TIE pilot uniform. It had been hard to find a clean one to fit his height, but the Krath settled into the cockpit as if in a comfortable cocoon. He often thought of a starfighter cockpit so. Indeed, he was flying a small weapon that could be obliterated in a single turbolaser volley, but at the same time he was...separated from everything else.

The ship hummed as it came alive around Locke. Meters displayed their full length for a moment, displays brightened, and the craft began an automated checklist. Locke noted the weapons. It was a standard loadout: he had proton torpedoes, concussion missiles, and proton bombs, in addition to his two lasers.

"Bantha ten, ready, " Locke said when his number was called. He grinned to himself as his craft detached from it's cradle and descended into space alongside others, MAAT gunships exiting around them. Locke soon formed up with his squadron.

"Lead, who's the newbie?" Someone said.

"Ten couldn't make it, so we got a replacement for this mission."

"Ah, hope he knows his way around a fighter," the first voice said, somewhat sarcastically.

"Ten here, I'm sure I'll do fine." He wondered if these guys had any idea who he was.

"We'll see, stay close, follow our lead, and you'll live."

"Right," Locke answered.

The squadron leader's voice continued a moment later, data scrolling across Locke's HUD at the same time. "The city has several defense turrets, these are our primary targets. Alongside the Blades, we're to clear the way for our transports to land so our soldiers and Foxtrot units can play their games. Secondary targets are anything bigger than a thud bug that moves and shoots at us, and any additional targets we receive from Control, everyone got that?'

There was a series of clicks in response, including one from Locke himself. The Searing Blades were the Covenant's resident TIE Interceptor squadron. Locke knew them well. The group had gained fame among the Warhost's fighter groups for screening the old Final Way on her suicide attack against Zoraan's forces. The TIEs had been sent because no one else was available at the time. No one had expected them to return, yet they had, with few losses. In the end, they had refused the offer to upgrade to one of the Clan's new TIE Advanced units.

Locke thought they had felt insulted in some way, and many had called them foolish for not accepting the perceived gift. In the Crusades they had crushed most of those comments by valiantly and successfully defending their mothership on numerous occasions. Commanders had grown steadily less hesitant to put them on the front lines, but still, Warhost fleet doctrine meant that all fighters that traveled with the main fleet group had to be hyperspace-capable, and that prevented the Blades from being at the forefront of war. As a result, they seemed eager to prove themselves at every turn.

The two squadrons seemed to work really well together.. Locke was eager to experience them in action firsthand.

An icon flickered on the Krath's HUD, indicating the first turret he had been assigned. Ahead, the gaseous clouds of Amphor glittered around the glimmering floating city that was San Korinar. Locke adjusted his course slightly, ready to maneuver at any moment if the city's defenders counterattacked.

Command and Control Center
VSDII Covenant
San Korinar
Amphor


“So that’s the plan,” remarked Macron. “I see. “I’ve been in quite a few wars, and unfortunately seen quite a few men, women, and unclassifiable beings die.” The Elder studied the hologram layout.
“Overall it sounds feasible, but landing everything with MAAT’s might be difficult. I doubt they have any serious AA power, but some dipstick with a shoulder missile and those turrets could really be problematic.”

“We’re bombing the hell out of them with the Dancing Banthas and the Searing Blades as escort.” Izanami spoke confidently. “Whether or not they have the most modern equipment, they have guts and heart.”

“I see,” the mad Sith said quietly. “I agree, they are strong warriors all. Well played. And against the San Korinar forces, they should be quite enough. I have only one point to offer. Quaestor Shirai, Alexander, Izanami, will you hear my thoughts?’

The two Battleteam leaders looked at each other as Shirai replied. “Of course, Marshal Commander. Go ahead. I’m curious to see what you have in mind,” remarked the Battlemaster.

“Let me take the Nachzerer at the head of the MAAT group. Give us some of the HLAF’s as cover. We will follow right behind the Blades and Dancing Banthas after they bomb the kark out of them. My ship is very heavily armored, heavily shielded, and packs quite the punch. I’ll switch out the advanced concussion missile loads for high-yield proton torpedoes and a few space bombs. The turbolaser can hit the turrets hard and smoke any enemy transports pretty quickly. As well, inside the Nachzerer I can take six more Dark Jedi. The precious package is more likely to make it to the target that way.”

“They will see you coming miles away,” replied Alexander del Gotto. “Is that wise?’

“I’m counting on it. As you said earlier Commander my forte is not being quiet. Fear is our greatest ally, as the Grandmaster also once said. Let’s give them something to really fear,” chuckled the Alchemist. “Something they will never, ever forget. They need to be brought in line,” snarled the Alchemist as he clenched a fist in front of him and smacked it into his other open hand. “Painfully.”

“Any objections?” asked Shirai pointedly. Nothing else was said. “Good. You have a green light on your operation. Also, the hibernating Sith Spawn Ewoks you provided have already been slipped into the city in a cargo carrier two weeks ago. They will awaken right before the main assault.”

“Excellent,” giggled the Sith lunatic. “Most excellent. They will inevitably die, but they sure as hell will make a point and an outstanding distraction. I have warped their flesh even more since their inception. With the knowledge I have found recently… well, let’s just say they will be an interesting diversion. Quite unstable and mad, but they are short term assets at this point. If only Malisane was here to see them. Gentleman, Lady, good hunting.” Macron bowed and began a brisk walk to the hangar bay.

Command and Control Center
VSDII Covenant
San Korinar
Amphor

“Macron hold a sec. I want you to take John, Arian, Paathim, and the 2 Apprentice’s with you. I would feel better if you were watching over them. And it will give them some good experience” Macon gave a questioning look. “That is an order” Alex grinned at the Mad Alchemist.

Alex then turned to a computer terminal to find a ship for the rest of his Battle Team. Looking at the available ships, he finds a Lambda Class shuttle. Perfect for what they will need.

Alex contacted the rest of the Battle Team to have them meat him in the hanger bay. As he headed to there he wondered what Macron meant when he said he wished Malisane could be there for the Ewoks. As he entered the Hanger bay he seen Locke talking with the Hanger Captain, which seemed odd the Aedille would be here and not in CnC of the Covenantt. Further more he was confused when the deck officer pointed to a TIE bomber and lock nodded in agreement. Alex figured that it was something for command and since Alex was in charge of the Boots on this mission if he needed to know they would tell him. As he approached the deck officer to find his shuttle he heard Lock say “Nothing, I’ll take it” at which the deck officer responded with “Prepping Bantha ten” As Alex approached the officer point to the far right “Devil 1 will be over there sir.” Alex looked and could see the shuttle being prepped.

Personal Quarters
VSDII Covenant
Amphor Orbit

A young Krath entered the room and the door slid shut with a soft hiss. Orders had come during the meeting. Orders that pitted her against her old team, her old House. She shook her head sadly, she would be forced to spill blood again. Blood of old comrades, old acquaintances.

Izanami walked up to the porthole in the quarters she used aboard the Covenant and stared out of it for a moment. She sighed and touched her ever present datapad, bringing Kairus’ image onto the screen. Her voice was still, hushed, serene. “Kairus. Prepare the others for incursion. You will be accompanying them for this mission.”

“Director,” Kairus began.

The Krath shook her head lightly. “No arguments. Keep the others alive, that is an order.”

Her head of security nodded cautiously. “As you wish, madam. My death before their own.”

Izanami touched the screen and Kairus’ voice and face were gone, leaving the girl alone with her thoughts. We do this for us, they say. Am I truly one of these us? Do they consider me as such?

She shook her head quickly, dismissing the thoughts that followed. Thoughts of a peaceful life on a quiet farm. These were simply not in the works for her. The young Krath knew that she was bred only for bloodshed and violence. Two things that had turned her stomach for years, but she had eventually gotten used to them.

Izanami turned to her desk and sighed, looking regretfully at her weapons. “Well, I suppose we should be off, old friends.” Her lips formed a tight, sad smile. “I think the worst part is you are really the only friends I have.”

Hangar Bay 1
VSDII Covenant
Amphor Orbit

The hooded young woman stalked into the hangar, her hands touching the twin slugthrowers almost intimately. She stepped up to one of the MAATs and looked at it critically. “I hate these things. Never enough room.”

Several troopers had already boarded the vessel and were preparing for takeoff. The girl stepped quietly up the ramp and entered the hold, listening quietly to the jeers from the soldiers. She was used to it by now, too young for combat, too young for blood. How little they knew of her. How little they would ever understand. No one truly knew the enigmatic Director of Dakhani Solutions, even those she worked with on a daily basis. Kairus came close, but only because he glued himself to her like the poorly done craftwork of a child. The Krath shook her head with a sad little smile to accompany it. Without a word to those aboard the transport with her, Izanami took a seat and strapped herself in. It would not be long now before she was required to spill blood once again.

Someone's voice came over the com as Locke roared over the city, having already destroyed his first target.

"Banthas, we've got new signals. Enemy fighters rising on the other side of the city. Y-Wings and...something else."

"StarVipers!" Someone else said. "Didn't think I'd ever see one up close."

"Well, you'll see plenty today, " the squadron leader said. Her voice took on a wry hint as she continued. "Banthas, let the Blades deal with the newcomers as much as possible, but if they come near you, remind them that we're no easy picking."

"A Viper painted on the bomb pod sure would look nice next to-"

"Hush seven," their leader said.

Only a click answered her. Locke focused on his own task, wary of the new fighters. He dived below the height of the tallest structures of the platform, flashing by their balconies and windows as he hunted his next target. When Locke reached the spire that was tipped with another turret, he curved up steeply, dropping his bombs as soon as he was over the target. The Krath could feel shrapnel pelting the outer hull of his fighter as he narrowly escaped the blast radius, serving as a grim reminder that the TIE was not equipped with shields.

Something else caught Locke's attention then: two Y-Wings had noticed him and were approaching from different angles., both seeking an easy kill. Locke shunted power from his laser cannons to engines - depleting the former completely - and pulled hard on his control yoke, twisting to the side. The bomber moved with almost painful slowness.

As he leveled off, Locke thought for sure they would correct their course and attack him anyway, and he wondered how the Dancing Banthas had managed to survive so long with such slow craft. He got half his answer when a concussion missile streaked by from his port side, evaporating the shields of the nearest Y-Wing. On instinct, Locke turned his own craft toward it and let loose a missile of his own before it had a chance to establish a target lock. The red streak struck the Y-Wing just as another from the port did. The aging craft buckled in the middle of the resulting explosion, wings and cockpit flying away at odd angles.

"Nice shooting Ten, they never saw that coming!"

Locke never saw it coming either; he had only fired because of a twinge in the Force. He surmised that the squadron's pilots had trained their instincts and reflexes to surprise their enemies. It was one possibility for how they had survived where others had not.

"One to go, distract him for me." That was Bantha Nine again. Locke had no issue doing as instructed. He turned away and rolled the bomber, wincing as red lasers lanced by just under his cockpit. There were a few more bursts before Locke heard a distant boom behind him.

"Ah-ha, got him."

"Thanks Nine," Locke said. He came out of his roll and surveyed the city. The Blades were engaging the StarVipers in the distance, trying to keep them away from the incoming transports, while the Banthas now had Y-Wings to contend with in their search for their own targets. At least, he thought, they had cleared enough of the turrets to allow the transports to begin landing. Locke noted one particular shape among them as they streaked toward the distance between the star destroyer and the city.

"Madman knows how to make an appearance," Locke muttered. Then he turned his fighter and saw something else new.

On the opposite side of the city, far beyond it's furthest skydock, two capital ships had appeared far above. From the outlines, Locke could tell that one was an Acclamator class assault ship, and the other one of the Clan's Majestic cruisers. Long range sensors identified them as the Absolution and Damnation, and new contacts began to spring up rapidly as they deployed transports and fighters of their own.

"So the Disciples of Ragnos have learned of this," Locke mused. He suspected that things were about to get very interesting.

Nachzerer Cockpit
Approaching the Public Core
San Korinar
Amphor

“Devil One, we have our approach. We’ll open and clear the landing zone for you.” Macron guided the Nachzerer directly into the breach caused by the Bantha’s bombing runs. “Dark Jedi in the hold, brace for impact and prepare to debark. We’re coming in fast, and into a hot landing zone.” The ship was peppered with blaster fire, and even a shoulder rocket hit it- to little avail. The thick skin and triple shields held firm. “R-8, divert eighty-five percent power to shields and weapons.” The ship hummed and shivered as the overclocked modified powerplant switched energy flow rates.

“Speed is not an issue right now- we have plenty dropping in from orbit. Target that damaged turret and give them hell with the proton torpedoes.” The madman’s fingers danced over the controls, triggering the turbolaser to drill into the turret tower and surrounding defenders with a righteous lance of green fire as the ion cannon swiveled and fired at a nearby StarViper. “Divert all power to shields and engines to full, mark! Brace yourselves!”

The Elder unclipped his harness and stood up, bracing himself against the overhead rails as the ship lurched and slammed into the side of the turret. It acted as a gigantic battering ram, punching through the damaged duracrete with it’s quadanium reinforced hull. Horrible sounds of grinding metal and creaking stone echoed throughout the entire ship as it’s bulk was literally rammed though the side of the tower and battlement wall. “Sorry baby, you’ve had worse.” chuckled the Alchemist. “It adds to your good looks. I know it hurts. We can rebuild you. Hehe.” The grinding and lurching stopped, and the ship’s belly hatch dropped open.

Around the beached transport dust, flames, rubble, and blasterfire peppered the air. Smoke grenades and debilitating agents blew from vents in the ship’s sides and also from cannisters jettisoned from within the open belly hatch. Behind them followed six Dark Jedi from House Shar Dakhan, each wearing breath masks. Four of them bore lightsabers- two crimson, and two azure weapons.

“I’ll join you in the front Vod,” remarked Roxas from under his Mandalorian helm. “Can’t let you have all the fun with the akalenedat now can I?” He hefted a flechette launcher in one hand and his ignited red lightsaber in the other. Dragoon ignited his blue lightsaber, the Knight’s weapon a bright royal blue. Arian Crass carried a red bloodshine blade in his muscular hands. The Human was lean, scarred, and obviously eager for combat. Behind him the Zabrak Pathim ignited another azure lightsaber and his Dathomirian warpaint reflected the color. The Apprentices followed with blasters and vibroblades.

In their front stood a red-armored Sith. The lights on his battle-suit blinked a dull red slowly as Macron quickly lifted his hand and ignited an orange lightsaber. The tangerine light reflected from the black glassteel of his helm’s eyes as he lifted the weapon and pointed it straight ahead. “Arsen, Raxus, Dragoon, Paathim, Arian, Roxas, let’s KILL THEM,” Macron Force-screamed at the nearby gasping defenders crouching behind rubble.

Some few of the San Korinar thugs could still fire, either aliens immune to the gases or those who had managed to don breath-masks. Blaster bolts were deflected away as part of the Devil’s Shroud fell upon them. The entire team flew like lightning to their targets, afire with the Dark Side and battle-lust.

Ready Room
Damnation
Approaching San Korinar
Amphor

Maelous watched the radar feed on the holoprojector as the Damnation’s fighters rushed out ahead of the Majestic-class vessel. The formation quickly engaged the enemy fighters and split into attack maneuvers. He folded his arms across his chest as an indicator blinked out. The first of many, he thought.

The Sith turned his helmed head slightly as the door opened, the hood of his cloak masking most of the view from the Ensign that entered. The young human male came to attention several paces behind the Warrior.

“Commander, the troops are standing by and waiting for your orders,” the young man reported, doing his best to mask any nervousness he may have had.

Maelous turned, his cloak unfurling, and headed out of the room, the Ensign trailing a step behind him. “Ensign, I will be joining the troops on the ground. I assume she would expect nothing less, but inform the Quaestor.”

“Yes, Commander,” the Ensign almost bowed as he hurried off in the other direction.

His hands absently checked the placement of the pouch and saber on their respective hips. The Exile moved through the corridor with preternatural grace as the blood lust bubbled up inside him. His mind began to shift as the Dark Side began to well up within as he made his way to the waiting ships.

Maelous stepped into the hangar bay and headed to the nearest MAAT with an open ramp and climbed aboard. The ramp lifted behind him as he surveyed the troopers in front of him with their assortment of weapons. He motioned for the anonymous trooper on his right to move, and strapped himself in once the seat had been emptied.

He keyed into the comms channel and listened to the incoming report as the ship lurched into the air. House Shar Dakhan had already made some headway with their assault, and Marka Ragnos has taken far too long in reaching the floating city. The Sith couldn’t help the dark grin that crossed his hidden face as he heard them go over the Madman’s crashing ship, more than likely on purpose he knew.

Maelous keyed into the squads specific frequency and looked at the soldier next to him. He noted the black fist clutching a white skull on the pauldron of his armor. The mark of the 444th company, better known as Death’s Grip. The Sith almost laughed at how fitting it seemed, but he had know something of reputation and their “traditions.”

“It’s a good day to die,” he broadcasted across the channel.

“As good a day as any,” came the reply in multiple voices as several heads swiveled to look at him.

The MAAT’s pilot alerted them that they would be landing in 60 seconds. The 444th all released their harnesses and braced for touch down. Maelous stood with saber in hand, and held the rail above his head. The shipped touched down with a surprisingly gentle bump, as the ramp began to lower.

Blasters and Slugthrowers erupted in front of them as they rushed off the shuttle and ducked into cover positions. The battle had begun to rage around him, the blood lust, and the dark side began to wrap around him. The Sith gave himself to it and he vaulted over the barricade he had initially dove behind. His saber ignited and cut through the thin armor and flesh of its victim.

“With me!” he roared and the men of Death’s Grip swarmed over the forces before them.

Hangar Bay
VSDII Covenant
San Korinar
Amphor

Shirai Ryu walked with a purpose with man soldiers behind his heel. Unhindered by armor this time the only thing the Battlemaster donned was his robes and Sith Mask. The Quaestor's Guard was vicious and large. There were two battalions of infantry, two battalions of heavy infantry, droids, medics and engineers. The maintenance auxiliary was his primary target.

It was the most heavily guarded of the locations on Sky City but for good reason. It protects the city's powergrid, which is important for their defense systems. Controlling the location would without a doubt secure the city. Most importantly, Shar Dakhan would have it.

A few Dark Jedi Knights also followed on both sides of him. They were dressed in Naga Sadow Sith armor. They were trained to fight in battle so they were ready for this ordeal. One of the Delta-Commando's came up to him before they were getting ready to board the Bantha-class assault ships. "Sir we have reports that the Damnation and the Absolution have exited from hyperspace and are sending their troops to the planet as well.

"Sithspit. Teu has made her move. Ready the troops. Tell Captain Terr to move the ship over the city's precious drop points. I appreciate the backup but we don't want them controlling this battlefield." He pointed to a determined looking Ensign following the orderly troops. "Also give orders to Lieutenant Colonel Barris Karrel to send reinforcements while our starfighters fight off their defenses. I want drop zones in the Public Core and the Spaceport in the corporate wing. Contact me when they reach the planet."

They nodded their heads. "Yes Executive Director."
---------------

Bantha-Class Assault Ship
Maintenance Auxiliary
San Korinar
Amphor

The Covenant was now moving through the hazardous atmosphere careful of missing pockets of gas. But the Commanding Officer Terr was more familiar with the planet which was why Shirai left the defense and running to him when he was on the battlefield. This would be his first test as Quaestor. To prove he was one of the great Generals of Sadow. Already he was apart of the Horseman of Sadow but that didn't show his tenacity to lead. A call was coming through on his holo-pad that interrupted his thoughts.

He held out his arm and it illuminated the cockpit of the Bantha-class ship. It was Krath Epis Locke. Garbed in starfighter equipment he seemed quite busy, "We are taking control of the air. But I sense they forces elsewhere on the move."

"Yes, I believe they have a freighter somewhere. They have to smuggle the gas out of here somehow. Keep an eye out for any insects that resurface. I will be leading the assault on the Maintenance Auxiliary so I have sent for reinforcements."

"Right on track."

"I will send word once we land. Teu and her forces should be landing soon. To avoid open conflict I'd rather use them as the bait we need to attack."

"We use them as a means of making us the spear-head? Draw the Black Sun forces to them."

"Which is the bulk of their army-" He was cut off as the ship buckled as from the power of its quad turboblasters. They had exited the gaseous sky and was now attacking the defenses covering the large platform. "We're being attacked. Report back later. Shirai out." He ended the call and looked back through the shielded glass to their target. Another Bantha-class shuttle flew beside them and a Delta-class DX-9 transport ship. As well as a few starfighters to provide air support.

"Signal for the all out attack," the Quaestor ordered the co-pilot. A great battle was ahead of him.

Defunct TEAD Technologies Outpost
Corporate Wing, San Korinar
Amphor, Orian System

The sounds of the conflict were already reaching the ears of the people in the streets of San Korinar. The raid sirens screaming for people to find the nearest secured bunker or to try and stay in the homes as elements of the Black Sun mercenaries moved to control and contain the threat of the impending assault. Various weapons platforms began to rise from the platform all around the sky city as men and women moved to wrest control of them from the limited AI, they had risked much to gain control of these resources from the Disciples of Sadow and would not give them up so easily. E-Web turrets, turbolaser batteries and various other weapon systems of different shapes and sizes steadily came online across San Korinar with a number of them coming online around the Prefect's Tower.

Within the confines of the once glamourous TEAD Technologies outpost, two mercenaries were steadily readying themselves for the coming conflict, the Trandoshan hissing as he checked his rifle, "Why isss it we can never catch a break? Firssst we take city from piratesss, now we defend city from Jedi."

A huff escaped the creature again as he eyed his weapon more pointedly, the Chiss at his side grunting in agreement as he checked his blasters before holstering them. The pair had military precision, but their story told a tale of soldiers who had been abandoned in the fall of the Dlarit Corporation. The Black Sun and their leader here had told them the truth of the Warhost which controlled the system now, and they would be ready for whatever came. A wide array of cybernetic enhancements had been displayed to them, as well as a number of different stims of varying effects, to help them fight the enemies who would no doubt destroy them otherwise. The Jedi may pose a threat, but the abominations they'd meet in the tower sent chills down the Chiss' spine just thinking of them.

A dull drone signalled the vibrating comm at the man's hip took his attention as the Trandoshan turned his focus to his collection of knives. The message on the device was just a simple message, "The dog wags its tail."

"Oh, Dar. I think we've got a Stinger by the door that needs a look over. Could you get it?" the Chiss stated simply as he returned the device to his hip, his eyes simply surveying the room.

A slight hiss escaped Dar, but he happily started towards the door before his companion was a blur of motion, swiftly stepping between the Trandoshan and his blades before grasping a wickedly curved one from the collection and running it across his companion's throat. A yelp of surprised escaped Dar seconds before the only audible sound was gurgling as he began to drown on his own blood. It would be that or bleeding out, but the Chiss didn't care which as he dropped the blade and started towards the far wall. His hand moved quickly, finding the panel he sought and removing it quickly, the keypad underneath humming to life.

The Chiss' right hand darted to his waist as he continued to survey the room, removing a cable from a pouch and running it to the maintenance port on the keypad. A happy chime was the response before the key generator started its work, a few seconds passing before the encryption broke and the hidden passage slid open. A few more swift movements removed the cable and started the man on his way down the corridor as the door slid shut behind him. The terminal in here had largely gone unnoticed and become forgotten as the years passed, the once fragile alliance between Taldryan and Naga Sadow all but forgotten, at least by most people. The TEAD terminal and systems here would link directly to Taldryan's networks and it would obviously be heavily encrypted, but it wasn't this terminal the man was after. Once again the man's hand darted into the pouch at his waist before he slipped out another device and inserted it into a waiting port.

A few chimes sounded as the man quickly moved to a nearby terminal and his fingers began working quickly to delay the TEAD network's countermeasures and alerts. He needed to make sure that Taldryan's agents wouldn't be able to trace the intrusion and in the best scenario, would not be able to even detect that they had been compromised. The systems chirped and chimed as they continued to work, seconds felt like minutes and minutes like hours until finally a sing-song tone signaled the man's success. Another few moments passed as he worked to restore the systems to their normal condition and recovering his device from the terminal. As everything returned to normal, the man turned slowly, withdrawing his comm once again as he keyed in the correct channels and waited for the encryption and tunnelling to be established. A simple tone sounded, almost a melody indiscernible to those not knowing what to look for. Playing the associated tone, the man waited for a moment before a voice responded, "Report."

"Senth-Osk-43, TEAD systems have been tapped; we have limited access to Taldryan intel."

"Acknowledged, the Director will work on the rest. Make haste to Dugout and await exfil."

"Osk Mern, will forward intel on San Korinar deployments and systems once I'm there."

Undisclosed Location
Orian System

The buzz of activity filled the room just outside the Miraluka’s office, but inside, all was quiet as the Jedi’s thoughts explored the weave of the Force about him. Events had been put into motion, actions caused by his hand as he pulled the strings of those about him. It had been four months since he had joined the ranks of the Sons and Daughters of Sadow, and many more than that which he had taken in reclaiming what had been lost with the Shadow Network. The agency itself may have largely been left to die when Kalia had left for the rogues, but he had done what he could to maintain it and steadily restore control.

The Overlord had seen fit to welcome the Miraluka into his inner order, to welcome an openly grey Jedi as one of his own, and the words themselves clung to the Jedi as though they were his clothes. He had been tasked with defending the Disciples of Sadow, in helping them reestablish their dominance in pursuit of the resurrection of their glorious Empire. Shadow was just a first step in that, and the strings he needed to pull to guide the Disciples, all of the Disciples, would be for their own benefit as their path revealed itself before them.

He could feel it, the conflict and tension surrounding San Korinar; the Houses would race to complete their perceived goal, Shirai and Teu dispatching their Battleteams to do their bidding. It was unfortunate that the sky city had suffered so much in the last few years, a fact which saddened him as he had needed to cause more strife to eliminate the plague that infested it now. But there was still work to be done.

A quiet knocking at his door pulled his focus back to his immediate surroundings as he spoke, “Enter.”

The door opened slightly as the lithe woman entered slightly, trying not to disrupt the Miraluka’s focus, “Director? Senth-Osk-43 has reported in, we have dispatched a small team to recover him though his mission was a success.”

“Good, good. I’ll get a team working on establishing a foothold, we don’t need to pry too deeply now.”

The woman nodded, a motion lost on the blind man, before leaving the room with the door sliding shut behind her. A sly smile crept across the Miraluka’s face as he withdrew a small comm from his sleeve, the device whirring to life steadily as its encryption and tunnelling procedures came to life, ensuring the Jedi’s security and secrecy in his location. With a simple chirp, the device signaled the open channel, “Locke, it’s Methyas. The platform’s defenses are going to tear apart your fighter support and men on the ground unless you can disable them. My agents have discovered a generator near your position which is supplying power to them, if you can take them out then Shar Dakhan can move in for the kill. I’m forwarding the co-ordinates to you now.”

With that, Methyas shunted his comm off, the channel had only been established to relay the information, how one part of a larger picture could be painted. While it was true that a generator was supplying the platform’s defenses, it had been designed as a redundant system with a secondary generator. Only when both were destroyed, could the systems be fully disabled. Now he needed to find a Ragnosian who was close enough to the other generator to complete the task in time.

Locke scanned the edges of the Sky City, searching for signs of craft attempting to escape. When he turned his bomber, he could see flashes of blaster fire from the Public Core as his Dakhani allies established their foothold on the ground.

"Trim it up, Ten," Nine said.

Quickly correcting his course, Locke fell in beside his wingman. He had been paying more attention to the city than to following the other craft. In the past, Locke had lost wingmen so often that he was most used to flying on his own. Despite that, he could see how crucial it was to have a partner in these antiquated bombers.

"Right, sorry," Locke said.

Nine spoke again, voice a tad bit more urgent. "Target sighted!"

"On him," Locke established a lock on the Y-Wing, firing his concussion missile a moment after Nine did the same. The craft dodged the first one, but the second hit it, dropping it's shields. In the blink of an eye, green laser fire streaked from Nine's bomber, blowing off one of the Y-Wing's engine nacelles. The enemy craft careened out of control, smashing into a nearby building.

Locke shook his head. How could Nine have shifted power to his lasers in a craft already so sluggish? Was he insane?

"What's that up ahead?" Locke asked. He saw what looked like two white discs rising from between the spires ahead of them.

"Transports, it seems. You take the right, I've got the left."

"Acknowledged, " Locke barreled down on his target, switching his weapon to torpedos. Though slower than missiles, they packed a greater punch. He thought that was ideal for engaging the slower, more heavily armored transports.

When he was in range, Locke fired two torpedos in rapid succession. One hit the ship's engines, blowing large sections of it away from the craft, while the other hit the dorsal hull, spilling debris and cargo out from the transport. Lacking power or cabin pressure, the craft slowly descended beyond the city's platform, just barely grazing one of the Sky Docks before spiraling down toward the planet's core.

Hardly a moment passed before Locke received a new message. Locke listened to Methyas' message and watched data scroll across his HUD before it automatically identified a new target for him. "How did you get this channel?" he asked, but Methyas had already cut the connection.

"Nine, this is Ten, there's a generator I noticed on a previous flyover, follow me." He wasn't entirely sure why he lied to the other pilot, but Locke trusted Methyas, and if the Miraluka was working in secret to the point where he had to send Locke a private message, the Bakuran was sure he had a good reason.

Switching places with Nine, Locke led the other TIE straight toward the generator. It was risky, but he knew they had to destroy it. In the distance, he saw a StarViper starting toward them. The Krath couldn't tell whether it or them would reach the generator first.

Nine noticed the fighter at almost the same time. "Blades, anyone available?"

"Read you Bantha Nine, we're all tied up right now," an ice-flat voice replied.

"Blast," Nine cursed. "Careful, Ten."

"I'm on it," Locke said. His thoughts were focused more on the target than his wingman. They were almost there, but if he ascended to use his bombs, the Viper would catch him for sure.

"Nine, gonna try torpedos, just need line of sight."

Laughter answered him. "You're insane, Ten. Right behind you."

Locke was not laughing. Grimly determined, knuckles white on the control yoke, he dipped into a narrow boulevard, the shape of the generator at the other end. Switching to dual fire, he pulled the trigger, two torpedos streaking toward the structure. They hit, exploding, but somehow it held. Locke fired again, and this time when the explosion receded only a twisted hulk remained - a hulk that he was about to slam into.

Cursing, Locke instinctively fired his last two torpedos into the wreckage. Then he flipped his craft up into a nearly vertical roll with painstaking sluggishness, slow enough that he could glimpse into passing buildings as the craft ascended. The twin ion engines whined loudly as they struggled to meet his demands in the planet's atmosphere.

Then he was clear of the structures. Locke started to sigh in relief, but he was cut off. Choking, he gripped the control yoke tightly again. His starboard solar panel was just gone. Nine shot through the space where the generator had been, apparently unscathed, though lasers darted through the air behind him.

"Luck," the Krath breathed. If that had been his bomb pod…

The remains of the TIE bomber tumbled downward. In the chaos, Locke had the sense that he would run out of platform in seconds and then begin the slow descent into oblivion. "No," Locke groaned, fighting the G-forces. Augmented by the Force, he willed himself to raise one fist, closing it around the ejector controls, breaking the handle off in his recklessness.

But it worked. The fighter's canopy popped, then tore away from the force of the tumble. Locke flew out, his crash couch bouncing against the fighter's bomb pod, barely shielding Locke from an impact that surely would have shattered bone otherwise. The impact was enough to dislodge the Krath's helmet though, causing him to gasp as he was suddenly exposed to rushing air.

Then the fighter was beyond him, disappearing over the platform's side. Parachute deployed, Locke still descended far too rapidly. He flung out his hands and channeled the Force without thinking. As his barrier sprung up, Locke winced under the effort of maintaining it during the impact, letting it go a moment later. He detached himself from the crash couch, rolling out with a groan. The Krath lay on his stomach on duracrete, watching his parachute pull the tumbling crash couch over the edge of the platform.

Panting, Locke rolled onto his back. "Hasn't anyone ever heard of a wall?" he mumbled. Then he laughed, but not at his comment. Somehow, miraculously, Locke had survived that ride. He squinted up, seeing a TIE bomber that may have been Nine banking overhead briefly before rejoining the fight.

"Yeah, I'm alright," Locke said, but his helmet and communicator were long gone. Heart racing suddenly, Locke patted himself on the stomach, feeling the bulge of his lightsaber hilt there. He chuckled again. Well, he had to stow it somewhere. Now, how was he going to get it out without making himself indecent…?

"This guy thinks something's' funny. What might that be?" a gruff voice said.

"I don't know Bralok, maybe he thinks his own death is funny," another voice said.

Then the first - Bralok - spoke again. "It was a mighty pain in the ass tracking you, but we finally found you, Jedi. Can't believe you decided to joyride in that TIE bomber, of all things. Made you easy to track after we saw you on that old star destroyer..."

Bounty hunters? Was he being assaulted by bounty hunters? After all that?

"Hurry Bralok, let's just shoot him and get proof so we can get out of here before this whole platform explodes. I don't think Black Sun will appreciate us ditching them."

"They hired many bounty huntersss," a third voice said. A Trandoshan? "They will not notissse a few missssing."

"At least let me see the first hunters to find me," Locke said slowly, trying to play along.

"Very well, on your knees," Bralok said.

"But Bralok…" the other human said.

Locke got up to his knees. He looked at Bralok, then at the other human. "Scared?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

The men could not see it, but the Krath had called on the Force. He touched his head, as if to nurse a headache, but in reality Locke was focusing the Force. Illusion and fright, placed just so…

Bralok's companion screamed suddenly. Even the Trandoshan looked shocked. In the momentary distraction, Locke flicked out his left hand as Bralok turned toward his friend, the man's blaster settling into the Dark Jedi's palm with a satisfying familiarity. With it, Locke fired two shots point blank at the stunned Trandoshan, ending his life.

Standing, Locke trained the blaster on Bralok. His companion was weeping now, hands clutching his face. Bralok's eyes were wide as he looked at the Krath. "What did you do?!" He just about screamed. "What did you do?"

Locke smirked. "I'm a 'Dark' Jedi, not just a mere monk. Now, who sent you?"

"H-he didn't give a name," Bralok stuttered.

"What did he look like?" Who would want Locke dead after all this time? Wait, the man had said tracking Locke was a pain. "How long have you been hunting me?"

"A-almost a year now." Bralok grinned nervously. "You are not an easy man to get close to."

A whole year..." Locke whispered. That hardly narrowed it down. He had been Consul then, and had many enemies. But who would send assassins? A rival leader seeking to test him, perhaps? Tra'an maybe?

"Fine," Locke said. No word would reach him if it was. They would never hear from their assassins. Tra'an was no longer Quaestor. Would he send more? Why would anyone think Locke important any more? His blood ran cold at the thought. He wanted to be done with this sithspit! He was a soldier now, not a leader!

You will always be an appealing target, a cold voice whispered in his head, and it was not Amelia this time.

Bralok looked up hopefully. "I can serve you…"

Without a second thought, Locke shot the man through the head. "No thank you." He had had enough of bounty hunters.

Grimacing at the mess before him, Locke set about creeping back into the fight. He had fallen far from his allies - probably close to where the Ragnosians would be landing, and someone would have noticed his crash. He adjusted the lightsaber within his suit - Locke would have to get that out at some point - and checked the blaster's power cell. It still held plenty of killing power.

the Public Core
San Korinar
Amphor

Dragoon was moving through the Merchs as fast as possible. With no battle armor it took him less time then most to make short work of the troopers at hand. He let the more experienced and heavily armored Battle team members take the majority while he stayed more to the outside and lesser populated area. He was about to clear another corridor when he seen 2 humans raise their blaster rifles about 50 yards to his left next to a building about 15 feet tall toward him. He took a detour and headed straight for them. As he was about 45 yards and at a dead sprint the two opened fire. Dragoon blocked most of the blasts and when he got about 10 yards in front of them he called upon the force to help him jump up on the building wall and spin back toward the men while doing a back flip and decapitating one. While the other one was in shock of what he had seen, Dragoon cut him in half.

"Master, third corridor to the east of the LZ clear. Im headed to the 4th and 5th now." he informed his master Macron through the comm link in his wrist that was linked with the mad mans helmet. "Excellent my apprentice. Don't be too shy in showing them the way to there eternal happy place. HEHEHEHE!" the old man said. After he heard the Horseman click off, Dragoon started toward where he had come from since the corridor had been a dead end. Right before he headed to the ally he stopped. The force was telling him something. At that time something told him to look up. As he did he seen a parachute from one of the Tie bombers. ~Hmmm, bad day to be a space pilot.~ he thought. Just then he recognized a dark force signature attached to the parachute. Then it dawned on him that he recognized that presence. ~LOCKE!~ he screamed inside to him self and started tracking the trajectory of the chute.

"Master! Do you see that chute coming down? I think its Locke." Dragoon all but screamed in the comm.

"Calm down, go and investigate if it is him bring him here." Macron added. "Aye master." He responded and headed in the general direction.

Dragoon had been traveling for several minutes down the 4th corridor when he came across two dead bodies. He then seen a figure dart down a ally headed away from the other battle team members, who were no longer in ear or eye range. Dragoon followed. As he was getting ready to turn a corner a Human male body came flying, literally through the air, past him and hit the wall on the other side. Dragoon re-ignited his saber and stepped into the ally and seen Locke finishing off another merch.

Locke then raised his blade as he turned to Dragoon. "Easy Locke, i'm just here to get ya." Locke lowered his blade slowly and both stowed their weapons after deactivation. "Why is it every time i get into a little scrape, you always pop up to help?" Asked the Adeile. Dragoon nodded and said, "i don't know, orders from my master to keep you safe?" Both chuckled and Locke grabbed his head a little and started to stumble a sec. Dragoon grabbed him by his arms and said, "hmmm, hard landing i take it?" Locke nodded. "but enough chit chat Knight, Get me back to the others." Dragoon nodded and said, "Follow me." And reactivated his comm link, "Master, i have him, were en route to your location." Both then started off back the way Dragoon had came....

Near The Public Core
San Korinar
Amphor

“One second, Dragoon. Let me talk to him myself.” Locke pulled a comlink from his belt and keyed in an old code. It seemed an eternity as ten seconds passed with no response. And then, the signal went through.

“Locke,” stated the madman’s voice cooly. “You’re using an outdated channel. One that was born of old leadership.”

“Macron, that’s right. Listen- they have two generators and backup weaponry according to my sources. We destroyed one in a bombing run and Dragoon saw my parachute. He’s intent on returning me to the main lines, but I suggest that we go take out the generator instead.”

“You’re requisitioning my Apprentice,” chuckled the Adept. “I see. It will be an interesting test for him to work with a powerful Krath. Maybe he'll even die- or live and become stronger. Go right ahead. I would join you, but it appears they intend to keep me in the thick of the front lines. The Quaestor’s initial forces have landed and are clearing a larger LZ at the moment about a quarter-klick from me. I’ll be joining them shortly. Good hunting!”


Public Core
San Korinar
Amphor

The speederbike whizzed along, carrying the Twilek mercenary. Beyta Yuul was running away from the group preparing to storm the landing positions with concentrated blaster fire and heavy repeaters. Right now it was a very bad place to be. Especially considering the transports bearing troopers, droids, and Jedi that had landed. Reports were all over the city holonet of armed invaders, bombings, and fighter craft seen dueling in the skies around the floating city.

Once the generator came on, there would be plenty of power for the grid-fueled weaponry to fire until they melted before running out of power. Right now however he was saving his own skin. It didn't take a tactical genius to understand what was going to happen here. He had hotwired the stolen Mobquet Quickfire and ran for his cousin's shuttle hidden in an old swoop-repair shop.

As he passed by a pile of rubble down a narrow street, something red and black pinwheeled into his path like an anthropoid blur. A Force-heavy reverse round-house kick caught the Twilek perfectly in the gut with an armored boot, driving him off the speederbike as it shot out from under him. Bones cracked as the Twilek mercenary bounced off the ground like a pretzel. The speeder bike stopped suddenly although the engines whined until the red-armored figure reached to it and cut it off.

“J...edi,” groaned the Twilek as he attempted to stand. His helmet had cushioned his skull but the iron-hard kick had crushed his ribs and possibly a few organs. His green fingers scrabbled for the hold-out blaster in his left boot. “Sleeemo...cough…. Jedi.

“Unh unh,” said the Adept as he giggled and clenched an outstretched hand into a fist. “Nope. Sith.” The already unstable rubble pile collapsed on top of the Twilek with a roar of grinding stone and a satisfying red squelching sound. "Heh heh. Scum wasn't even worthy of a lightsaber death, so I crushed him like the worm he was. Nice bike by the way, thanks!" Macron hopped on the speeder bike with a leering grin under his helm and zipped towards Shirai’s position. “Okay team, I’m moving to the Quaestor’s position. Let’s regroup there.”

Near The Public Core
San Korinar
Amphor
moments ago
Roxas stepped from the Alchemist's ship and tilted his head to each side, cracking his neck. His Strike armor was now in it's fifth adaptaion and was now a true instrument of war. He had created this suit specifically for his destiny as the Horseman of War and had a regular surasteel beskar'gam on standby at home. He was angry that he was taken from his wife for another battle. With the Crusade against the One Sith he has taken more and more of his time away from his wife and now this on Amphor adds insult to injury. He was going to make sure he get's time if he has to sink the city into the core of the planet.

The Disciples of Sadow charged the thugs nearby their lightsabers humming an elaborate song of death. The song was orchestrated with various swings and the chorus was blaster fire.

Macron opened his comm and shouted "Blinky, open fire on our enemies." In an instant the guns of the Nazchezer released hell on the thugs, quickly quieting the area.

The 360 degree scanner in his helmet pinged targets in the immediate area an in the distance before laying them onto a holographic map on his HUD.

His vocoder vibrated with steel and iron as he spoke "We are already surrounded Pestilence." Pestilence meaning Macron, "In our immediate area, the troops are armed with standard blaster rifles and assorted combat equipment, further out I see artillery and fortified emplacements."

Macron turned to the Mandalorian and spoke with a slight hint of surprise "You can see all that from here?"

"I'm tapped into the city's security systems, I talked blinky into being useful."

The Alchemist giggled at the thought of the two working together, normally blinky argues with Roxas and refuses any kind of help.

Near The Public Core
San Korinar
Amphor

“We need to move to support Shirai’s landing zone.” Macron rested a hand on the stolen speederbike that had returned him to the grounded Nachzerer for a second sally by the strike team. “Glad Blinky was actually helpful for once, Roxas. Usually the droid is rather annoying. I’m liking this bike though, I’m going to add it to my personal collection of them.”

“Must be that program upgrade you gave him. If we’re surrounded, we’ll need to go over or through the enemies. I’ll join you over there, and give some shooting cover as you arrive,” commented the Mandalorian as he ignited his jets and jumped towards the LZ.

“Arsen, Raxus, Paathim, Arian, grab a seat on that landspeeder and follow me. We’re going to break through the enemy lines and join with Shirai’s group.” The madman swung his legs over the speeder bike seat and revved the engine. One hand held the grip, and the other ignited an orange lightsaber. “Blinky, target the side nearest Shirai’s LZ and launch the remaining missiles to clear a path. Let’s roll.”


Near The Maintenance Auxiliary
San Korinar
Amphor

Explosions rocked the area as artillery on both sides began to unload. The speeder bike carrying the madman roared through a gap in the enemy lines, followed by a landspeeder with Dark Jedi onboard. The occasional blaster bolt was reflected back toward the distant enemy lines as they zoomed by. Unseen precise blaster bolts from a Xerol Nightstinger shot dead the few enemy that poked their heads above cover nearby.

The speederbike and landspeeder bearing Macron, Arsen, Raxus, Paathim, and Arian stopped in the LZ as troops bearing the Warhost insignia swarmed around them. Several tanks gathered in a ring around the MAAT's, ready for the attack. Roxas joined them by rocketing down from a rooftop clutching a long-rifle blaster. The Quaestor of House Shar Dakhan was directing the battle from the cover of the lee side of a MAAT. “You’re here, good deal. I brought Protector Armad, your new Apprentice. The Umbaran has military training, I see.”

“True.” Macron nodded at them both. "Glad to see you made it, Apprentice." The other Dark Jedi gathered around hunched over as Shirai laid out his attack plan.

Approaching the Public Core
San Korinar
Amphor

Maelous held his fist up signaling the twenty-three men of the 444th to halt as they reached the end of the alley. He pressed against the wall and peered around the corner, quickly noting the positions of opposing force before sliding back.

“There are only three.” he said flatly.

He pointed at three members of Death’s Grip and motioned them into position. Without hesitation the three rounded the corner, and before the thugs could get their blasters up, aimed and fired. The sentries fell and the rest of the platoon moved around the corner to follow them. They moved with an efficiency that pleased the Sith Warrior. Every command followed with exact precision. He could not have created a better unit.

Taking the lead Maelous moved self assuredly down the empty street blocked by rubble.

“Watt!” called the Sith.

The Intell Officer of the 444th came running.

“Yes, Commander?”

“This is where the bomber shot through the building?” he asked as he eyed the debris.

“Yes, Commander,” Watt replied with a nod.

The Exile grinned darkly beneath his helmet, “Good.”

He turned and was about to begin his climb over the broken duracrete when a hail of blaster bolts and slug fire began to rain down on their position. He dropped down behind the pile as the men of the 444th moved for cover. Without hesitation they began to return fire, orange and green light crisscrossing the sky and seering the air. The Sith Warrior moved along the bottom of rubble searching for a better vantage point. He passed a few meters from the platoons Lieutenant, as a slug ripped through the armor of the officer’s helmet followed by another to his chest. The man toppled over, as another moved into his position. The men of Death’s Grip didn’t have time to worry about the dead, not yet.

Maelous found a spot that he was able to look through the debris from. The building on the opposite side of the pile of crushed rock was the source of the attack, with almost every window lit by the firing weapons.

“DEMO!” he roared into the platoons channel. Two clicks came back in reply.

Maelous marked the building with his wrist mounted holopad and transmitted, “Bring it down, now!”

Standing on an overlooking balcony, the Watcher observed as the Dark Jedi known as Locke Sonjie seemed to incapacitate the three other bounty hunters with ease. Somehow, he had lashed out at one with his mind. The Watcher smiled; that would not work with him. His mind had been hardened against the mental attacks of Jedi, his weapons prepared for them. He had killed them before, and he would do so again. Bralok and his cohorts had been useful tools, but only in gauging his quarry's abilities. If this Locke Sonjie focused on using mind-based attacks, he would be quite surprised when they failed to work on the Watcher. By the time he realized his folly, it would be too late.

The Watcher moved back into the shadows, following Sonjie's path with his eyes as the Jedi moved away. He would collect on that bounty soon.

---

"Pinned down. Need help, need-" static screeched in Locke's comlink as the message cut off. He held the comlink up, looking around. The Krath and Dragoon had gotten far afield of their brethren and been about to move toward this generator when they had picked up the static-filled distress message from one of their own squads.

"Say again! Please repeat!"

"Leave them," Dragoon said impatiently. "They're mere peons."

"No," Locke growled. "They are our soldiers, and if I can save them, I will." He thought of how he might spin this in a way Dragoon would like. "They are only a useful tool as long as they live."

"Fine," Dragoon mumbled, before going back to surveying their surroundings.

Then Locke heard the voice again. "Enemy troops...large structure….ahead. Ragnos...firing….them."

The message ended in static then, but Locke had heard enough. He looked around them, noting that back the way they had come two structures were exchanging fire. There was another, to their left, that seemed to be attacking the building as well.

"Odd," Locke mumbled. "Didn't think we had anyone there."

Then the first floor of the middle building exploded. Columns and durasteel panels flew into the air like mere twigs and leaves, descending all around them. The pair of Dark Jedi stood there watching, trusting the Force to warn them if any of it would land on them. The building groaned, the strength of whatever supports were left unable to hold it erect. Seventy odd floors tore apart like flimsiplast, falling in different directions, completely enshrouding the area in a haze of smaller debris.

"Come on, let's see if anyone lived," Locke said. "We can get a better vantage through there." He pointed to a smaller building to the side, one that had survived the explosion.

The two were in it's foyer when they heard footsteps. A squad of perhaps two dozen soldiers appeared, but Locke barely noticed them compared to the man at their head.

"Maelous Ascarend?" Locke muttered. Then, more loudly, he spoke to Dragoon. "I'll handle this, see if there's any survivors. You'll need them to attack that generator. Now, go, and don't come back for me!" He didn't want the other man to risk getting killed if Locke wasn't able to return from this on his own.

Locke stared straight ahead at the leader of one of Marka Ragnos' Battleteams, though his intelligence of late had been sparse as to which one. "Red Moon?" Locke asked.

Maelous sneered. "Follow him." He said. His troops obeyed without question, hurrying after Dragoon. Locke put them out of his mind - the Knight could handle himself. That left the Krath and Sith alone in the foyer, the sounds of battle only a distant, soft melody. If Locke remembered correctly, they were on the outskirts of the battle, and he counted it unlikely anyone would interfere here.

"You will get no further, Locke Sonjie." Maelous grated, his voice like iron.

"We'll see about that." Before Locke could say anything further, Maelous flowed forward, not like a river, but like a landslide. His uniform seemed to barely move; it was just there, a part of the Sith, hardly a hindrance to his attack.

Death came for Locke then and he defended, his blade springing to life just in time to catch the Sith's on it's edge, narrowly pushing it on a trajectory away from Locke's body. The Krath spun then, putting himself in a position where he could control his blade more precisely. By that time, Maelous had leapt in the air, somersaulting over Locke to land behind him. The Krath noticed just in time, spinning as Maelous did the same, the tips of their blades meeting as Locke backed away, weapon lancing out defensively as he slowly backed away, looking for any opening. The Sith didn't give much opening at all as he spun from Locke's parry and used his momentum to strike forward.

Lips tight, Locke set about how to stop the onslaught, looking for any way he might trip Maelous up, if even for a moment. He would need it of he hoped to win this fight.

Maintenance Auxiliary
Near The Public Core
San Korinar
Amphor

“And so, Apprentice, we are headed directly for the former Lord-Mayor’s halls to spearhead the warhost troops that will take the building. The most heavily fortified and possibly dangerous place in the entire City. Fitting.” Macron gathered up a few extra power cells, a shoulder bag with various containers within and stepped onto the stolen Quickfire bike. He pointed at a waiting 74-Z speederbike. “Can you drive one of those, Armad?”

“Of course I can, Master,” snickered the Umbaran. “It’s military issue. I have used one of these crude bikes before in my training.” The pale-skinned humanoid placed a pair of dark glasses over his eyes and stepped on the bike. The Journeyman started it easily and began an efficient pre-run check. “Unfortunate it’s not quality issue like the ones the Company had.”

“I’m wondering why you chose to follow me, instead of serving in your House?” Macron started his own bike with a roar of repulsors and dropped his helm plate. One fist holstered a disruptor rifle into a quickly-rigged sheath on the side.

“Perhaps it is to keep an eye on you Master. Either way, Umbarans do not divulge their plans until it is too late,” stated the Protector with a wry grin. “The rifle is uncharacteristic, from what I know of you so far.” He checked his Fire Whip, daggers and lightsaber.

“Very observant. It’s the agonizing melting of enemy flesh that I enjoy as far as disruptors go. I’ve set this one to burn them down slowly once hit... and the nerves to be the last to fry so they can really FEEL it to the end. Haha! Ahem. They are a tool that generates fear, and that is to my advantage in battle. As well, there is not usually much left to animate or trouble you afterwards.” The Sith Adept checked both of his lightsabers. “Good to go. You will make an excellent Dark Jedi, Armad. I have read of Phanius. Perhaps one day you will have a similar power- if you live. Six of my students lived and became Knights who live still. I killed one more Knight for a traitor, Aisha Qifaxa. The rest...well, that’s another story entirely. Heh heh. Let’s go.” With that the madman roared off.

Armad followed on his right side as wingman, keeping to the shadows and letting the madman go forth in plain sight.

Near The Public Core
San Korinar
Amphor
Explosions echoed across the city, screams filled the ears of soldiers and civilians, blaster fire burned everything, everything was covered in a fresh coat of crimson and the sweet iron stinch of blood filled the air. Amphor had become the chaotic gruesome world that the Horseman of War had become used to since a young age. His wife turned him from the darkside and made him grey and with time she could extinguish the flames inside him. She is the only reason he stays sane and doesn't lose himself, she keeps him grey and she returned him to himself after the struggle of trying to find himself again after the hardships of his former master's training and becoming an alchemy experiment for the now befriended crazed Alchemist.

Roxas had charged into battle far a head of Macron and his forces. It wasn't that he was seeking honor and glory, it was that he wanted to hurry the fighting along. He wanted to go home and be with his wife. Roxas wasn't fighting as his normal self, he wasn't holding back anywhere like he normaly does. He was proving his title as the Horseman of War. He also figured it best after using one of his crushgaunts to squeeze a mans head until it popped while standing infront of the journeymen. The blood splattered like a water balloon filled with red goo and gave awful crunching and cracking sounds before there was actually an audible pop. They weren't accustomed to such acts of violence yet and he didn't want to overwhelm them. Macron on the other hand clapped his hands and laughed loudly as if he was being entertained at a show. Roxas did refrain from killing women and children as well as from using his flame projectors as he fought though; there was no need in completely destroying a city and it's peoples if it can all be rebuilt.

The Mandalorian slaughtered anyone that fired at him, Warhost soldiers included. It's true, we are at war with ourselves he thought as he shot one of the terrorist in the face. He continued what many would call a rampage, but he wasn't angry or using any emotion. He looked at it more like a purge of the weak from the Clan.

San Korinar
Spaceport

The signs of hard fought battle were scorched into the walls of the hangar. Bodies littered the floor and the walls bore the telltale signs of blaster fire. She stood almost serenely in the middle of this field of death and noted the number of corpses from each side.

“Oh, good. At least most of it seems to be over here,” mused the girl aloud. She heard one of her accompanying troopers snort derisively. She detested many of the troopers, sentience was lost on such creatures.

She turned and smiled sweetly at the man, her hand drifting to rest on one of her slugthrowers. “Do you have something you wish to share with the class?”

The trooper glared at her for a moment before turning away. The young Krath laughed lightly. “I’m sure your fellow troopers are going to treat the big man very respectfully when we get out of here. Can’t even handle one little girl.”

Before the man could retort, Izanami motioned toward one of the untouched corridors. “Go kill something. All of you. I do not need you nor do I want you around.”

The troopers seemed relieved to be away from what they considered to be a burden on their mission. A quiet shadow lingered near one of the ships, watching until the others had left, leaving the young Archpriestess alone.

“You know, it simply will not do if you always dodge security details,” said a familiar voice.

“Kairus,” retorted the girl. “I told you to accompany the others.”

The shadow approached and pushed back the hood of his cloak. “Yes, well. You pay me to protect you.”
Izanami scowled at the man for a moment and then shook her head. “Very well, if you insist on following me, make yourself useful and keep watch. We’re on our way to the primary server rooms.”

She moved away from Kairus, forcing him to move slightly faster to catch up to allow his longer stride to easily keep pace with his tiny companion. She glowered in spite of herself, she liked the man for all she felt he saw more than he ever let on. She did not mind so much as long as he proved that he was just as useful and intelligent as her machines. The datapad at her waist came easily to her hands as she touched the screen a few times to pull up an area map of the city.

Several divergent paths led to the server rooms, but many of them would be inaccessible due to heavy fighting or ambush points. She lifted the pad slightly and looked at Kairus, “Well, which would you suggest?”

San Korinar
Spaceport

“Might I suggest the path with least resistance, Director”, Kairus said quietly as to not upset the young lady any further.

Sighing loudly, she stopped walking and once again took up her datapad and selected the route which displayed the fewest number of hostiles and motioned to move out. They moved quickly and quietly down the corridors until Izanami suddenly burst out, “Remind me to think of a creative punishment for our current troop regiment when we get back.” Kairus maintained his stride as he spoke, “They obeyed orders, and loyalty isn’t so easily earned.”

“Perhaps, but it can be easily bought”, she retorted with a slight warning in her tone. “Just remember that you didn’t follow my orders, or do you want to remind me of that later?” Tilting his head slightly and raising an eyebrow, he nodded once slowly and remained silent. Taking her datapad out again, she gave the display a frustrated look. “We should have encountered some resistance by now, however it appears they’ve all moved on from this point.”

“You sound surprised Director”, Kairus said trying to disguise his lack of knowledge of their destination. Picking up on the clue, Izanami showed him the datapad, “We’re headed for the main server room, and there should be people here.”

The two dark Jedi approached the doorway, but a flash in the Force made the Archpriestess gasp and grab the back of Kairus’s cloak. Just as he lifted his foot a proximity sensor tripped as two flamethrower turrets emerged from the bulkhead. She looked around and spotted a terminal about 3 meters behind them. She pulled the Obelisk again and ran back towards the terminal, bringing her own datapad out and jacking into the access port.

“We’re going to need help with those flamethrowers, and that sensor alerted whoever it is behind those doors, we’re going to have company soon”, she said quickly. Punching a sequence into her datapad she yelled, “Locke is the closest comm link to us, see if you can reach him while I slice this terminal.” Kairus activated his comm link and spoke loudly, “Locke, we’re about to be pinned down at the main server terminal, can you assist?” He looked down at his comm hopefully only to hear static answer back.

Near The Public Core
San Korinar
Amphor

Dragoon was running full speed when he noticed a door frame to duck in. As he did the men chasing him stopped. "Where did he go?" One asked. Dragoon took the chance and ambushed the seven men and in a matter of seconds the troopers of markas ragnos were nothing. Dragoon started to grin, not noticing or realizing there was a sniper pulling up the rear. The Sniper dropped to one knee and took a shot. It was slightly wild but nailed Dragoon in the left arm. Dragoon dropped to the ground. The Sniper thinking he was dead started toward him.

Dragoon stayed still on the ground, blood starting to come from the wound. He kept his breathing slow and shallow, just enough to fool the sniper. The man in the trooper uniform got close and clicked on his comm."Snipe 1-1 to command. I got the run away but the rest of the squad is dead...." those were the only words he was able to transmit as Dragoon jumped up with saber in hand, ignited it and sliced off the mans head at a angle. The head slowly slide off the snipers body and landed on the ground as his body fell slowly. The Darkness and anger raged through Dragoon. He feed on it. ~So this is how the Consul treats his followers? by sending Troopers to KILL his Dark Jedi?~ Dragoon let the rage and anger surge through his body as he pulled a small med kit from the troopers body and used it on his arm. The trooper didn't hit anything important so a simple pressure bandage that Dragoon learned a long time ago sufficed for treatment. Although most of his muscle in the area of the shot was destroyed from it, he could still move it enough.

Dragoon pushed a few buttons on his wrist and a small holographic map popped up. He studied it carefully for where Locke had told him where to go. ~Just a little further.~ He then closed the map and brought up his com link to the mad man. "I'm a little busy Knight, what do you need?" Dragoon could hear the anger and frustration in his voice.

"Master, i need a squad of troopers to meet me at the Generator, im about 3 clicks out, i should be there in 5 minutes. That is is Locke was correct." Macron snorted, "DON'T CHASTISE THE MAN! I've known him for years, if that's where he says it is then so be it. Ill send who i can. Dragoon, Hurry up." Then the link went dead. Dragoon dropped his cloak on the ground and scavenged what he could use from the bodies. All in All, it wasn't much but a few blasters and ammo. After attaching the two blaster pistol holsters to his thighs and gathering ammo and a pack from one he grabbed what ammo for the sniper rifle and the rifle itself and slung it over his back. It was time to play dirty. He was tired of being hurt.

Dragoon then took off toward the Generator once more leaving the trail of bodies and blood in his wake....

Approaching City Hall
San Korinar
Amphor

“Copy that, High Command.” Macron touched his helm and keyed Armad’s earpiece comlink. “We’re being diverted, Protector.” The Sith turned his speederbike in a screaming turn.

“I see. What’s our mission?” asked the Umbaran as he turned his bike to the left and kicked in some speed.

“We are to locate and terminate Delta Advanced Clone Number Thirty. Priority.” The madman mumbled something and turned his helm to look away.

“I didn’t catch that, Master,” asked Armad slyly. “Would you repeat it?”

“I said, Krenth aka Number Thirty is a clone that we grew back in twenty-seven ABY. Krenth served… my old Sith Master, our current Proconsul. They were all assigned to the Summit and Clan Elders at the time. The clones were abandoned when the facility on Gamuslag was shut down. Only a few Delta-Advanced Class troopers were made. The orders we have to terminate him came across the network code-set reserved for Sadows.” The madman frowned under his helm. “I heard Krenth went rogue, and was selling illegal stolen gas. This could be orders from Darth Vexatus to terminate a loose end, a plan to kill us, or any number of machinations. Count on it being bad though.”

“That sounds troublesome,” mused the Umbaran. “Very well then.” He pulled his bike up at the streetside area that Macron indicated. “This is the place?” The Krath stepped off the bike, donned a gear harness, and clipped in gear. Grenades, power clips, a lightsaber, and a heavy blaster pistol rounded out the kit. "So you had one, yes? What happened to it, may I ask?"

“I killed him and used him for spare... parts. Heh. Clone Thirty has black hair, brown eyes, is a martial artist, a crack shot, and is very intelligent.” Macron hefted a modified Verpine disruptor rifle in the armored left hand and powered it up. “Don’t underestimate him. I’m sure he knows someone is coming. I doubt, however, he is expecting us specifically.” The Adept shouldered a small pack over his armor. “Got just the thing for him. Clone-Be-Gone liquid. Now Available in gas, spray, dart, or the popular envenomed weapon at your local Sadow-Mart.”


“Er. Right... Got it,” replied Armad as he leaned against the building’s door. The Krath’s fingers popped the latch open as he touched a button on his skinsuit. It shimmered slightly as his form wavered. One hand clutched an unlit Firewhip. "You live up to what I've heard."

“That I'm nuts? I am. Umbaran shadowsuit,” chuckled Macron. “I read about those in a holovid from the Clone Wars. Umbaran planet gave the Republic hell, eh? We’ll need to have a chat about this technology the Umbarans have. Especially weaponry and defense. In any case, in we go.” Both entered the building, unsure of what would transpire next- other than combat, that is.

Public Core
Maintenance Auxiliary
San Korinar

The starfighter squadron had descended before Shirai's main force attacked. Though heavily guarded, the pressure of the Bantha ships and excellent flying that made quick work of air support that was giving the rest of the Shar Dakhan's forces.

Majority of Dlarit forces were supplied from this center as well. Shirai had just meet up briefly with one of the horsemen of Sadow, Macron. He grabbed his new apprentice and was on his way. He was a Marshall Commander of the army so he knew what to do.

With they're heavy turrets no longer bearing down on them, Famine came from behind the cover of the MAAT that brought some heavy infantry. "Attack!"

There was a gate to the fortress like auxiliary, but one proton bomb saw that that was no longer a problem. The gate also destroyed their other obstacle was the black sun forces and the Dlarit police.

Leading the charge Shirai force leapt through the smoking wreckage. Dark Jedi and Clone troopers were behind him filing through the entrance. They were greeted with a hail gunfire.

It seems they were waiting for them to charge and already had soldiers lined up and in good position. Instantly Shirai's lightsaber sprung to life to deflect the blaster fire directed at him and his guard.

"Push through!" Bodies started to drop as they came through the entrance but the troopers fought through anyways.

They ran forward to avoid the explosions from cannon for and starfighter fire. With a comlink on his other hand. He received word from the ensign on the ship. "Sir the reinforcements have landed. Marka Ragnos has had trouble deploying troops."

With blaster fire shooting over his head the Battlemaster replied, "Good everything is going to plan." Now he had to concentrate on taking the maintenance auxiliary.

Prefect’s Citadel
San Korinar
Amphor

Krenth scanned the skies that he could see from the top of the tower. Outside, twin capital ships loomed ominously, dusky titans high in the skies overhead. Air combat had died down as the defending forces were literally shot from the skies by the Warhost. The defenders had fought well and valiantly, and yet they were lacking in the end. The ground war went much more slowly although he knew in the end they would be beaten. The Warhost was too large, too well trained, well funded, and bloodthirsty. “I should have known this would happen,” remarked the clone.

“Understand you, I do,” remarked the hologram of Zero. “Leave, you must. Lesai is working still. Shelter you, we will, for a fee.” The small green alien faded from view.

Krenth nodded and turned to his desk. He tapped a secret code into his desk keyboard. The code would eliminate all traces of his records and transactions as well as trigger explosions in certain sensitive areas of his holdings. Many miners, innocents, and support crew would die. They could be replaced and the clone did not possess a great respect for life. With the necessary tasks complete, he began to don modified Delta-Class armor. Krenth had not worn it in years but the situation warranted it.

Just then, his med-droid bleeped. “Sir, the security droids report an intrusion below.”

“Elaborate, droid.”

“Sir, our communications are cut off. Our tower is under aerial patrol by enemy forces. The landing pad and the aircar above have been destroyed by TIE bombers. At least two humanoids have penetrated the lower levels and are engaging the droids and security. Unfortunately, I am not programmed to analyze, only to report what comes across the net. Sir.” The medroid bleeped in concern.

“I see,” commented Krenth as he finished clicking the last bit of armor into place. “Any visuals?”
The clone donned his helmet and clicked it into place. He checked his weapons. They were the best money could buy, and the clone knew how to use them expertly.

“Yes sir. I can project it through the room’s system, although my resolution is not perfect.” The scene illuminated in dim blue as the players strode across the holographic stage. Two humanoid forms strode through the droids, both bearing lightsabers. One hung back in the shadows, supporting what had to be his leader. The other form was frighteningly chilling to the clone commando. In the vats and training they had only known him as “Red General.” He had later come to know the name of Macron Sadow. The Sith was one of the primary architects of the cloning program which had created Krenth, along with his Lord- Vexatus.

“Sonofabitch,” whispered the clone quietly as his mouth grew uncharacteristically dry. If the Red General got his hands on him, Krenth would likely go the way Major Qek had gone. Qek had disappeared in 30 ABY and had not been seen since. The reports he had heard indicated that some quivering gelid mass that used to be Qek may still be praying for death, high up on the orbiting starship hulk above them.

Near the Public Core
San Korinar
Amphor

Maelous brought with his saber down, the yellow and red flashing as they connected. He wheeled around and struck again, one blow after another. He continued the onslaught, never giving the Krath a moment to try attack. The Sith baited Locke’s every move by telegraphing his own. He had no intention of harming his Clan mate, only to stall him as long as possible, but had to fight himself to keep the bloodlust from overtaking him.

The two danced, Maelous rolled to the left, his blade swinging wide and connecting with the Epis’ yellow blade. The Exile smirked under his helmet as the red of his own blade flashed back around to the right as he spun, expecting to clash once more, but only striking air.

Locke stood several paces away from the Sith breathing heavily as Maelous began to laugh. It was a sound the Aedile had never heard, like a tomb door sliding shut.

"What's so funny?" Locke asked trying to pry into the Horseman's thoughts.

"I was just thinking of how War must be enjoying this right about now,” Maelous said as he gestured around them, “This chaos is his domain now."

The Krath wore an expression of puzzlement for a brief moment. Which one is War again? Roxas? They’re serious about this Horsemen thing.. He thought, his mind an open book upon his face.

"I'm sure he's holding back though,” the exile said, a hint of pity in his voice, “I don't know why. It's more fun to reap the souls of the weak."

Maelous’ feet spread apart as he moved into a more aggressive stance. He reached out with the Force and took hold of a chunk of duracrete. He waited, watching the Krath for the slightest hint of movement. The pair stood in silence for what seemed a long time. Finally, Maelous saw the twitch in Locke’s leg, and with it he let the rubble fly at him.

Locke leaped forward, thinking that he may be able to catch Maelous by surprise if he went on the offensive. As he stepped forward, the Krath heard a rumble and felt the hair on his neck stand on end. He twisted with the impact of the duracrete slab, grunting as it hit his side, sending him stumbling sideways. Moving on instinct, he dived for the ground, Maelous' lightsaber singing the Krath's hair. Locke continued his motion, rolling up to his feet.

As he did so, he spun and caught Maelous's weapon blade to blade, the Sith's at a horizontal, direct angle, while Locke's angled up toward the other man's temple, though it was still a foot short.

"Only trying to delay me, huh?" Locke tightened his grip, frustrated at this fight. He fights like Macron, like a bantha stampede! The styles were different, but the general approach seemed to be the same.

Maelous bared his teeth in a grin. "You would not be worth much if you couldn't survive this."

"Right," Locke said. The Krath had one last trick up his sleeve - something he had read about once. He had not been able to perform it in a practice chamber, but perhaps he needed anger. He certainly had enough of it now. The Krath could feel the Force crackling along his body, angry, restless. As his lightsaber slid away from Maelous' and the Sith prepared to attack again, Locke held that energy for a moment and then released it outward, letting it pulse from his body.

As blinding white light illuminated the chamber for a moment, Locke backpedaled as Maelous blinked and stepped back himself, lightsaber up defensively to give himself room to counterattack as soon as he could see. Locke clipped his own lightsaber back to his belt and unholstered his blaster, firing quickly at Maelous.

The Sith had recovered by then and blocked some shots, while dodging others. He advanced slowly between each one, using the wide foyer area to evade when necessary. As he did, Locke swiveled his head to look around for anything he could use and caught sight of a turbolift behind him, it's crystal-clear window walls worked in some fanciful pattern. There were a pair of turbolifts, but if Locke could get away, even for a little bit, he would have a chance to strike at Maelous later - or be able to continue his own mission.

Locke fired a couple more times before stepping back into one turbolift and hitting the button for a random floor without looking.

"Bye," he said, as the turbolift door shut and it moved up.

---

The Weequay known as Balthene noticed a flash out of the corner of his eye. He had followed his Dark Jedi quarry to this abandoned building and had ascended a few floors to get a better view. Balthene was careful - he had hunted Jedi before and found the best way to approach them was to be patient. He had to look for his best chance to strike. Easing his shoulder mounted multi-missile homing launcher, the Weequay peered around the corner the flash had come from. He could see Sonjie firing his blaster at another man, who deflected each shot with a red lightsaber.

So, the Jedi were fighting each other. That could prove useful. Sonjie was backing toward a turbolift. Balthene surmised that the Jedi would try to use it to escape. At this rate, he would not have much time to choose a floor, and could end up anywhere.

Balthene could tell how high the lift was by the artistic, stylized see through designs along the exterior of it's shaft. The designers of this place had gone to great lengths to make their building appealing, but in the end all that had done was make the bounty hunter's job easier. He grinned slightly as the lift stopped a few floors up, still in sight from his end.

Looking down at the other Jedi, Balthene briefly watched him approach the other lift. He would soon join Sonjie, and that would add another factor to the equation. Thinking fast, Balthene steadied his large weapon and held down the trigger. Though patience was important, one occasionally had to act quickly when it came to killing Jedi. The multi-missile launcher had been designed to accommodate a large clip of minature missiles. It was too large for most species to carry and expensive as well - especially when it came to the homing missiles that Balthene had filled it with - but the successful hunter had been able to afford the technology. To most species, the weapon would seem as if he belonged on the side of a gunship, but for Balthene it was a deadly portable weapon. He had found that Jedi had a very hard time coming to grips with so many small, explosive projectiles following them.

He held down the trigger long enough for a trio of micro-missiles to launch from the weapon. They connected to Sonjie's lift just as it came to a complete stop, enveloping it in an inferno. There was no sign of the Jedi when the explosion condensed; only a gaping hole in the building's structure where the lift had once been.

Balthene smiled again. That was one target down. Oh, he would need to acquire proof, but that he could get at his leisure, perhaps from the building's security footage, or the remains of a bloody limb. More immediately, the Weequay wondered what his employers would think if he brought them evidence of a second Jedi kill. He had enjoyed hunting them in the war - though he had always been irritated at his employer's loathing of technology - and had not had enough opportunity to do so as of late.

Already planning, the bounty hunter retreated back into the corridors of the building. It would be a good day.

---

Locke leaped from the lift before it had come to a halt, intent on finding a good place to rest before Maelous could follow. Just as he took his second step out, his hair stood up again. Everything happened in an instant. One moment he was in mid-stride, the next on the floor across the hall, his ears ringing, flame-retardant pilot's uniform all-but glowing as fire raged only a few feet away.

"By the Triumvirate! What the hell?" the Krath growled, crawling down a side passage. One of his feet burned with pain. Locke glanced over his shoulder, seeing that the flight suit had been torn away there and a piece of shrapnel was lodged in his heel. Head swimming, he willed himself to crawl forward, seeking a space where he could address the wound.

Near the Top
Prefect’s Citadel
San Korinar
Amphor


“I’ve placed an over-ride on the droid,” said Armad. “It will do whatever you tell it to,” smiled the Umbaran. The Krath patted the beat-up mech droid. “It’s an older model with serious software holes.”

“Shut down the lighting, environmental, security, and turbo-lift power, droid.” Macron wrenched open the half-closed stairwell door. “He’ll be close to the top, awaiting air extraction. My intel says the roof was destroyed. However, he could easily climb out a window and into a transport. He will expect us to cut through the door in typical Jedi style. You will blow the door with explosives and use the ablative gas canisters- here, take my main orange lightsaber and I will use my secondary. I will rappel and jump in through the window behind him.”

The Sith turned to the stairs and began to leap up them. “Follow me. Use the Force to increase your distance and speed.”

“Yes Master,” shouted Armad as the pair ascended the two floors rapidly to the Penthouse level.

-----


Penthouse Suite
Prefect’s Citadel
San Korinar
Amphor

“Sir, we appear to have lost power and I am cut off from the security feed,” whined the medical droid. “Warhost troopers have taken the first floor completely and are moving up the building.”

“The Dark Jedi will be here soon then,” Krenth stated as he checked his gear and shouldered a heavy repeating blaster. “Take cover until I need some bacta.” He crouched behind the overturned armored desk. The bottom was layered with millimeter-thick bronzium and quadanium steel that would even slow down a lightsaber blade.

There was a blast outside the door, and it blew open with layers of gas and dust billowing in behind the blast-wave. Through the silvery gas a lone indistinct figure could be seen brandishing an orange colored lightsaber in the fog. Krenth knew full well that the madman carried one of that exact hue. He calibrated his helm sight and opened fire. Though infrared and ultraviolet did not seem to penetrate the gas well, he could still pick up the the orange light that clearly outlined his foe. The shadowy figure reflected one blaster shot away before and was hit by the second in the leg and fell. “Gotcha. Gas won’t bother me,” smirked the clone.

Behind him echoed the sound of shattering plasteel as the Elder smashed through it curled in an armored ball. In his hand a blood-shine red blade ripped from it’s curve-hilted emitter as the Sith attacked with a deafening scream. Krenth found his heavy repeater cut in two almost instantly by a sweep of the Sith’s lightsaber. The edges of the cut glowed a dull cherry red as the Delta-class clone dropped it. Another glancing stab slid off his ultrachrome vambrace as Krenth palmed a poisoned vibroblade.

The Sith's weapon shifted pitch to a higher, almost silent resonance as he changed his grip on the weapon and flicked a switch. Macron quickly raised one hand and pointed his fingers at Krenth. "This party is over," giggled the lunatic as he launched galvanizing blast of blue lightning to sprak across the Clone's armor. A wave of invisible energy then hit the clone like a hover-truck as it blew the furniture apart around him. Behind it followed the Sith.

This time the crimson blade cut right through the ultrachrome to sever Krenth's fore-arm neatly. The clone's other arm swung the vibroblade and jabbed it into the madman's right side kidney area. It penetrated the armor but did not go far into the flesh. It was as if hitting an invisible wall as the Elder Juggernaut raged. Krenth felt something clamp onto his helmet as the vibroblade wielding arm was split at the wrist when the red blade snapped on and off. He could hear the servos in the hand that held his helmet whine as they crumpled it in with relentless Mandalorian steel.

"Malik and Vexatus sends their regards," chuckled the madman as he sliced Krenth's body in half with one hand while crushing his head with the other. "Game over." He dropped the gory remains to squelch on the floor. "Ugh. Fracking poison," coughed the madman as he opened his helm. "Gives me a headache. A shot of detox ought to do it," Macron stated while jabbing his neck with a hypospray. "Armad, I see you still live. Good. Take that bacta away from the med-droid and use it. I need your help to box this useful biomass up, hehe."

Near the Public Core
San Korinar
Amphor

Maelous stumbled, as fire roared down the lift tub just a few meters away, from the explosion above him. Believing the building may come down around him the Sith readied himself to run. He stood motionless for a long moment before straightening his posture.

The Exile reached out with the Force and probed overhead. He had fought his own blood lust back, but he didn’t want his clanmate dead. It took him a few minutes but he was able to find the Krath not to far from him and alive.

The Sith began moving towards the other lift. He knew it could be a trap it could be a trap but he didn’t much care. He stood in front of it for a moment and looked it over. It appeared intact and seemed operational. Maelous went to step in when alarms rang in his mind and he dropped to the ground. There was a solid cu-chunk as something struck the turbolift wall above him, followed by the crackle of electricity.

The Warrior rolled to one side as the blade of a vibrosword struck the duracrete where he had been. He flipped to his feet, just long enough to see the Weequay’s face before have a large foot strike him in the chest to seem him sprawling back.

“You’re not going anywhere Jedi,” the Bounty Hunter growled, turn the last word into a curse.

Maelous got to his feet once more and smiled darkly behind his helmet, “Not without your head at least,” his voice like crumbling leather.

Balthene charged at the Dark Jedi, raising his blade above his head. The movement allowed Maelous to duck low and spin to the side as the crimson blade came to life. The blades clashed with the Sith on the defensives. The vibrosword swung wide as the Exile pivoted and blocked it. Each attack followed quickly by another.

Maelous knew he was losing ground and looked for a way to turn this fight in his favor. He ducked again, his assailants blade sweeping just above his head as he spun again. Embracing the Force once more he reached out and seized the turbolift doors, ripping them free and hurling them at the Bounty Hunter. He leapt backwards then, landing, turned and ran out into the open courtyard of the building.

He didn’t see the approach as the body of the Weequay slammed into his own and the two tumbled to the ground, Maelous’s saber and the Hunters vibrosword clattering across the ground. They were up within seconds of one another and, both dropping into fighting stances, began to walk circles around each other.

Penthouse Suite
Prefect’s Citadel
San Korinar
Amphor

“Ugh. Kahack,” coughed the Alchemist as he opened a holocom-channel on his right vambrace. “Alchemist reporting.” The Sith looked at Armad, who was obviously in pain from the blaster shot to the leg. “Target neutralized. Biomass and DNA obtained. Strike team injured but mobile. They got me with some poison… one I have not yet encountered. Narrrgh!” The Elder convulsed slightly as he used the Force to eliminate the toxin. “Fuuugh. Feck sake. It’s a rough one but I’m holding it off. Request Immediate Extraction, code Marshal Three.”

Several seconds passed. “Copy that, Interrogator. MAAT will be on your position in two minutes. Be ready.”

“Copy, HQ. Alchemist Out.” The Sith shuffled to his Apprentice. A quick scan by a sensor confirmed his thoughts as he sprayed Armad’s leg with plasflesh. Another move injected the Journeyman with antibiotics and bacta. “You’ll live. It must hurt.” The Elder coughed hard, and blood showed in his sputum as it hit the ground. “For what it’s worth, I’m hurting too. Together we will find the people responsible for this and make them pay.”

“I have a question,” asked the Umbaran. “Whom do we serve?” The simple but yet piercing question resonated in the air. Armad took the drugs and bacta well, and washed his wounds from the medkit he wore.

“Leave it to the intellectual to ask,” chuckled Macron. “Always, my Apprentice, we serve those who can destroy us, or who we can gain power from. Those who are weak, serve us or die as a Sith.” Macron laughed evilly. “And mostly, just die. Of course being a Krath you may have a difference of opinion. That is well, as it indicates critical thinking. f you can walk, we need to go and get this biomass to Sepros.”

Generator control buidling
San Korinar
Amphor

Dragoon stopped just short of the Generator building. At least what was left of it. He looked around and seen some merchs. ~Great, more Death to deal with.~ Dragoon sighed and grabbed his shoulder for a second. He could still feel the pain but he was able to block it out temporarily. Dragoon looked again to the men. There were four of them. Dragoon unclipped his Light saber and took off in a sprint. As he got closer he activated it and started slashing.

The first two guards went down with out any notice, but by then the other two had noticed and one touched something on his left wrist just before Dragoon lopped off his head. He seen the fourth take off running toward the whole in the building. Dragoon started to follow but stopped short as he sensed something. About that time at least a platoon or more of soldiers came out of the building Dragoon knew he couldn't take them all. So he turned on his heel and sprinted back toward a boulder big enough to conceal him. As he was nearing the boulder he took a flying jump but not before he caught another blaster round to the right leg. "AHH!!" Dragoon screamed as he landed. He immediately fell to his back. About that time 6 uniformed and armed troopers from his house showed up. A small commando team it looked like. Still not enough to take on the street thugs. Dragoon pulled his comm link and set it for the pre-designated com channel. "This is Dragoon, i need extra help. I am pinned....." He was interrupted by the 6 Commandos that just arrived behind the giant boulder. "Sir, Are you hurt?" Dragoon nodded, "Alright, MEDIC! Dress his wounds and prepare for e-vac...." that was the last thing the commando said as he took a sniper round to the head. It was a clean shot. Dragoon caught the man before he hit the ground. He noticed no rank or name. A true commando.

"MAN DOWN!!!" Just then the medic showed up. "Sir He's Dead, Let me help you!" A Female voice said. Dragoon looked at the fallen trooper and removed his helmet. He was a male human with medium complexion. He couldn't have been more then 27 standard years, same as Dragoon. ~Just like Snakeyes.~ He thought. He gentle laid the mans head on the ground and used his two fingers to close the troopers eyes. ~Rest in peace my friend.~ Just then Dragoon felt the rage and anger flare up, but this time his eyes turned dark black all the way through. He reignited his saber as he removed it from his belt. The commando Medic looked at Dragoon, "Sir take this stim pack!" Dragoon looked at it and used it. Just then one of the other troopers showed up and said, "Sir we have incoming!" Just then two Naga Sadow MAAT's showed up and two platoon of solders showed up and flanked the solders the best they could. Dragoon Jumped up and started toward the Death's Grip. "YOU ALL WILL DIE FOR THE BLOOD OF SADOW YOU HAVE SPILLED HERE TODAY!!!" Dragoon did nothing fancy just simple slice and dice as the Troopers from his house and the unknowns easily cut down the ones Dragoon couldn't get too.

When it was done both sets of the troopers stopped and one with a Red moon on his armor approached Dragoon. "Sir, we are here to help with the generators. We also have a message from Maelous. He said 'Dragoon, take these men as your own.' So sir, i Commander Daka offer you my platoons and myself for this mission. FOR SADOW." Dragoon nodded and looked to the last remaining 4 from his house, "And you Commandos?"

The taller of the four stepped forward, "Sergeant Jak'laba and the remaining of my squad can provide escort for you so the commander can provide recon and other essentials sir." Dragoon nodded, "Just assist the commanders troopers for now Sarge. Now lets find these generators....." All the troopers and Dragoon headed down the Dark hall to the generators.

Hissing, Locke propped himself up against a wall in the narrow side passage. He could hear the sound of battle nearby, guessing that Maelous was fighting someone else. How had the other Dark Jedi created that explosion? Locke couldn't ponder that at the moment. For now, he needed to worry about taking care of his foot. He reached down to grasp it with one hand, but paused as a thought rose in his mind. If he cried out, would Maelous hear and come back?

Closing his eyes, Locke expanded his Force sense, searching for the Sith. Perhaps if he was not nearby, the Krath would not have to worry. However, he not only found Maelous, but another presence as well, one he had not noticed before. That had to be who Maelous was fighting. Was it Dragoon, or another one of his allies? If so, Locke needed to help.

Reaching for the shrapnel again, he paused, noticing Amelia sitting across the narrow hall. She was just reclining there, wearing the same dress as usual, one arm on a knee. She gestured at his foot, a hint of concern in her voice. "You're hurt pretty badly. You probably shouldn't join this fight."

"Right, " Locke murmured, "but that could be one of my allies down there. I need to help them."

Amelia sighed loudly. "Very well, but be careful. You're no use to them dead."

Nodding, Locke grasped the piece of shrapnel and yanked it out in one quick motion. He shrieked as pain shot through his foot, feeling blood running out. The Krath gritted his teeth and immersed himself in the enveloping presence of the Force, reducing the pain to a distant throb. WIth shaking fingers, he tossed the shrapnel away and placed the blood-slicked hand against his foot. He felt an increase in heat as the Krath channeled the Force into it, melding tendons and skin back together. The feeling of his body healing that quickly was...unnatural. His pained groans trailed off in hollow laughter as Locke thought about how he was growing used to that feeling from having to heal himself so often.

"Now," he growled, getting up to one knee. Locke looked around, but Amelia was gone. "It's time to finish this fight."

---

Balthene stared at the Dark Jedi in front of him with contempt. He had proven a more challenging quarry than most Jedi, who died in seconds after the joining of battle, or in one strike, as Sonjie had.

Just then, he heard a shriek from the platform above. Was Sonjie alive? That was impossible. It had to be someone else!

Distracted by the thought, the Weequay barely caught a fist with his wrist guard as the Dark Jedi charged him, having taken advantage of the momentary distraction.

"Ready to die, then?" Balthene said as he counter attacked. His opponent laughed at the bounty hunter's words for some reason.

No matter, this man would die, and then he would finish Sonjie. First one, and then the other. Two dead Jedi, one way or another.

---

Gingerly testing his foot, Locke stood up. He walked a few steps, finding his blaster not far away where it had landed. He just hoped it would still fire. The hallway where the turbolift had been was littered with still burning debris. The Krath walked up to the hole where it had been and gazed down, watching as someone fought Maelous in hand to hand combat. It was hard for the Krath to tell, but he thought the other man was a Weequay. Was he one of the holdouts of this city, or another bounty hunter? To Locke's knowledge, Maelous possessed no way to destroy the turbolift as it had been, but perhaps this bounty hunter did.

On the ground nearby, Locke noticed his comlink blinking. Whatever that was, he would get to it later. First, he had to deal with what was in front of him. He could leave Maelous to fight this bounty hunter himself, but perhaps a show of good faith would remind the Sith that they were ultimately on the same side.

Concentrating with the Force, Locke raised his blaster and fired, grinning slightly as the bolt struck the Weequay's shoulder. The alien growled and staggered, quickly recovering, but that was all the time Maelous needed to act. The stretched out one arm as if for another punch, but this time stretched his fingers forward. Brilliant lightning arced from them briefly, catching the Weequay in the chest.

As the stunned man stumbled back, Locke felt the darkness from Maelous explode in the Force like a maelstrom of the dark side. The pummeled the Weequay with a series of unrelenting, lightning-fast blows, hitting him seemingly everywhere, reducing the alien's remaining defense to nothing.

Finally, Maelous grabbed the Weequay and held him up with a roar, dropping the man's back over his knee with a loud crunch that made Locke wince.

The Sith let the Weequay's body fall limply to the floor, retrieving his lightsaber and using it to remove the groaning Weequay's head with all the emotion of an experienced butcher nearing the end of a day's work.

Locke held his breath as the Sith looked up at him. "Think we've fought enough," the Krath breathed.

"Indeed," Maelous nodded. "I have delayed you enough. Until next time."

Without another word, the Sith turned and left the building, leaving Locke to his own devices.

The Krath finally activated his blinking comlink. "Acknowledged, I'm on my way."