Invasion Of Orion Introduction

VSD Dark Fusion
True Brotherhood Flagship
Orian System.
Day Five of the Great Jedi War.

Anaxela sat at the head of the conference table, addressing the four Sith gathered around it. Agrist, the cold former mercenary leader with the scarred face and the eye patch, Garlina Megelos, the imperious dark haired woman who was one of the few survivors of Mustafar and a former Tarentum Archpriest, the zabrak Imgaril Garnath, the sadistic son of Severak’s second apprentice and Mrussk, the powerfully built Trandoshan that towered over the rest of them, a brutal fearless warrior.
These four were the most powerful Sith remaining in the Brotherhood, the first to join or be recruited by Severina and Tslotha in the early days. Anaxela hated all of them, just as they resented her leadership of them and the alliance she had formed with Severak after the fall of Kangaras. They feared her though, except for the Trandoshan who had a grudging respect for the powerful force user. Stood behind her Mithlas, the quiet deadly Nogri Sith, watched them silently.

“We are ready,” Anaxela announced, “the small Vong force has left the system, presumably to head for the planet Antei. Orian lies ripe for our taking.”
Imgaril’s eyes glittered, “Excellent.”
“A new home and the riches of the Dlarit Corporation, and slaves for our cause,” Agrist added eagerly.
Mrussk’s only response was an eager laugh, but Garlina’s face showed concern. “We are sure this is safe?” she asked, “we have remained hidden for so long, we risk all if Clan Naga Sadow return, backed up by their allies.”
“They will not return,” a cold voice said from the corner of the room.

They looked up in surprise at the robed figure that was materialising and taking form. The cold features of Severina surveyed them. None of them had seen her enter, but they were used to it by now. “I have seen all,” she continued, “Clan Naga Sadow, and the rest of the Clans are being driven into the Shroud around the planet Antei by the Yuuzhan Vong. They are trapped, and they are out numbered. Within a few days the Dark Brotherhood will be finished, for good.”
Anaxela nodded. “Indeed. If a few somehow survive and return here they will join us, or die. With the Dark Brotherhood gone we are now the most powerful force of Sith in the galaxy.”
“And what of the Yuuzhan Vong?” Garlina asked, “what happens when they come searching this system?”
“Why should they return?” Agrist asked, “they came here, they found little of interest for them and they left. There are a thousand small mining systems like this one, and the other Clan worlds hold greater interest, as does Antei.”
Anaxela smiled. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Now if there is nothing else you have your orders, follow them.”
The four of them got to their feet and left the room. Anaxela glanced at the robed figure. “I despise them,” she replied, “Their petty ambitions and their personal agendas. This is the best I have to work with.”
“They are talented Anaxela,” Severina, “and they have their uses. Not one of them I would trust to lead, but with my help they will serve you adequately.”
Anaxela nodded, “Yes, or they will die.”

Imgaril stood over the pilots shoulder as the shuttle descended towards the city of Seng Karash, its lights flickering in the night. A rich place, with its business’s and its carbon production, the hub of the mining operations spread across the planet. Unlike Agrist he cared little for profit by itself, but with funds they could buy ships and armies to conquer. “We are nearly there.”
Garlina nodded. “We are,” she agreed, “and our force is prepared. I just hope those codes still work.”
Imgaril smiled. “They will do,” he replied, “they are hard wired into the system, and unchangeable. Severina has assured us of their legitimacy.”
“Odd that they would put in such a gap in the defence, it does not make sense,” she said thoughtfully.
“It makes perfect sense if you think the right way,” he replied with a smile, “whoever put them in did so on the off chance he might want to do what we are attempting. I do not imagine many know about them.”
“I suppose so,” the former Krath replied.

The shuttle adjusted its trajectory, and the Marakith Skyhook filled the view screen, an immense disc floating over the city, with its concealed turbolasers and ion cannons, and if the rumour were correct launchers packed with baradium missiles, a great fortress in the sky.
“We are being hailed,” the pilot announced.
“Give no response,” the zabrak replied, “input the codes.”
“Affirmative,” the pilot replied.
“Disable the weaponry and drop the shields,” Imgaril ordered, “and open us a docking bay. Knock out the auto defences as well we don’t want to get our heads blown off as soon as we leave the shuttle.”
“I do not like this method,” the former Archpriest said quietly, “if we batter their doors down they will be expecting us.”
“Then they will die.”

Anaxela entered the bridge of the Dark Fusion and walked up behind Commander Neido, the Imperial officer she had seduced and persuaded to desert his ship to her cause. Agrist followed her. She reached out her hand and brushed her fingers against the back of his head below the cap rim, and he turned and gave her an adoring smile. “We are approaching the planet Tarthos,” he reported.
“Any defence ships?” she asked.
“We are detecting one Nebulon B2 Frigate near the planet. It is listing, and we’re detecting massive power failure and only slight life signs on board. They’ve been disabled.”
“The Fire of Sepros,” Agrist added remembering the list of Dlarit assets, “it looks like the Vong did our work for us.”
“Good,” Anaxela replied, “that saves us the effort. What about the planet.”
Neido pressed a button and the display homed in on the planet, showing the military structures of the Dlarit base and training camp. Nearby the ancient structure of the Cathedral of Ragnos was an impressive sight. “There’s a defence shield stopping us landing directly, “ the Commander reported.
“We’ll have to do it the old fashioned way then,” Agrist concluded, “I’ll have the walkers prepared for deployment.”
Anaxela nodded, “You will lead them, and have Mrussk prepare a landing party. I want that base disabled within the hour.”
Agrist nodded, “It will be a pleasure.”

Imgaril and Garlina lead their force down the ramp into Marakith’s docking bay. Behind them a collection of apprentices gripped lightsabers, swords, or blasters, depending on their ability. Inside a line of Dlarit marines waited, blasters aimed. Imgaril ignited his twin sabers and charged forward, deflecting fire back towards the marines. Garlina followed, her face grim and her own saber in hand. With the troopers a dozen Ludo Kressh journeymen rushed forward, to engage, the Knights with their own sabers and the lower ranking journeymen with a similar collection of weapons. Imgaril danced amongst them, deflecting sabers and contempously slicing through steel weapons before hacking apart the wielders. Garlina raised her hand sending a Guardian sailing helplessly through the air to smash against the wall, then impaled a marine on her blade. Behind them their own apprentices, spurred on by the ferocity of their leaders battled hard, slowly beating back the defenders.

Garlina looked around. “Hold!” she shouted, amplifying her voice above the battle. The combatants stopped, Imgaril giving her a curious look then stopping himself. She studied the dead and the living. “I am Garlina Megelos, formerly of Clan Tarentum. Now I serve the True Brotherhood. Your leaders are dead, slain around Antei by the Vong. Your Summit and your Dark Council are gone, and you are alone. If you continue to fight we will kill you all. If you put your weapons down and swear allegiance to our cause you will live, and you will prosper. I have no wish to see talented young Sith go to waste, or trained soldiers. Those who agree drop your weapons and walk over to the far wall.”
There was some hushed conversation, and a few looks shared then slowly a couple of journeymen and marines disarmed and walked over to the wall, then more joined them. Left at the back of the room were half a dozen journeyman and marines, looking defiantly at Garlina and the invaders.
One Knight spoke, “I am loyal to Clan Naga Sadow, and I do not believe my masters are dead. You can slay me, but in turn you will die.”
Imgaril laughed in contempt and Garlina smiled. “Not before you do,” she replied. “Kill them.”

The line of AT-ATs moved forward, the smaller AT STs between their legs, turrets blasting at the defenders who manned the weapon platforms around the base perimeter, and the cannons on the base fired back. In the cockpit of the lead walker Agrist sat calmly watching. Above the squadrons of the Dark Fusion’s TIEs battled the smaller force of Dlarit fighters that had launched to slow the attackers. It was predictably easy. “You were fools to leave your system so poorly defended,” he muttered.. He looked ahead. “There is the shield generator. Make for it and obliterate it.”
“Yes sir,” the pilot replied.
Agrist clicked the communicator. “Five minutes Mrussk, prepare to land.”
“Acknowledged,” the Trandoshan Sith’s voice replied.

Above the small fleet of landing barges and shuttles descended through the atmosphere, Mrussk in the lead one. He looked down at the battle below, the walkers crushing the defenders one by one, the flying fortresses blasting the embattled marines from above and the TIEs shooting down the defending fighters and dropping bombs. This wasn’t a battle, it was a massacre. His alien features smiled, as he sensed the panic and death of the defenders.
He turned to the stormtrooper Colonel, “prepare our troopers to land.”
“Yes Sir.”
Mrussk and Agrist weren’t expecting much resistance in the base, disappointingly. For years since the fall of Mustafar they had been bottled up on the Dark Fusion, and now they had a chance to battle. Mrussk, and he was sure Agrist, would have to make the most of what they had.

The shield generator exploded, and the sensors showed the field flicker then fail. Agrist smiled. “Target the outbuildings.” Immediately the line of walkers opened fire, spewing death into the barracks and armouries surrounding the command building, raising explosions and fires across the compound, and Agrist laughed sensing the inhabitants burning and dying. He watched in amusement as a large water tower shuddered then collapsed, smashing buildings below as it fell and sending Dlarit personnel washing along in the flood as it cracked. Within a few minutes only the command centre and the Cathedral remained.
“Right I’m going down there, can’t let Mrussk have all the fun.”

Mrussk strode out of the shuttle, his armour gleaming in the fire and his double bladed saber ignited. Around him True Brotherhood apprentices and white armoured stormtroopers formed a ring around the Command Centre, and a team of engineers were laying charges at the entrance. Smoke from the surrounding buildings drifted across the area, obscuring the view. He strode towards the doors as they exploded, not bothering to duck as the head hit him and metal shards showered the area. The robed apprentices followed the trandoshan Sith, weapons grasped and troopers with blasters. “Kill anything moving,” he ordered. Unlike Garlina he saw these as worthless scum, and they would die. He lead his force along the main corridor of the building, troopers and Sith branching off to check and clear smaller corridors and rooms.

Ahead a Sadow Knight came face to face with him, saber in hand. Seeing the trandoshan towering above him armour gleaming and double bladed saber raised, the man went pale. “I surrender,” he said hurriedly lowering his weapon.
Mrussk laughed cruelly and brought his saber around in an arc, battering aside the weapon as the Knight brought it up and then slicing his own down through the journeyman’s shoulder and into his chest. More journeymen appeared from corridors and charged, sabers and swords raised. Mrussk rushed forward, double bladed saber slicing off limbs and heads as he battled them. Two Guardians panicked and turned and ran. Mrussk laughed and hurled the saber, sending it spinning after them, dismembering them before with a flick of his wrist he called it back to his hand. With a roar he advanced, apprentices and troopers stepping over the dead as they moved forward behind him.

Onboard the Marakith Skyhook Imgaril and Garlina sat in the C&C. Former Dlarit Lieutenant Dagris, the most senior marine to defect, was taping at a terminal. He swivelled in his chair. “Masters, they have woken the Mayor, he and the Chief of Police await.”
“Put them on audio only,” Imgaril ordered.
“This is Mayor Tlairis Jangar,” a voice told them, “on behalf of the city of Seng Karash I demand to know who you are and what you want?”
It was Garlina who answered. “We are the True Brotherhood, your new masters. We occupy the Skyhook above your heads. We are going to tell you precisely what to do and you will obey to the letter.”
“We will not respond to threats from terrorists,” the Mayor responded, “you will surrender yourselves or face the consequences.”
Garlina laughed, letting the mayor hear it. “Your military forces are destroyed or being destroyed, there will be no consequences,” she replied coldly, “now listen to me and stop your idle chatter. You must be at least partially aware of the defensive capabilities of this skyhook. You will obey my instructions or I will burn your city to the ground.” She paused. “You will order your citizens to return to their homes or the nearest building and stay there. Then the Dlarit police will stand down to their barracks. Our own forces will be arriving soon to maintain order on the streets.”
“Go to hell!” the Mayor responded.
Garlina sighed and gave Imgaril a meaningful look. “Show them we’re serious.”

The Dlarit employees ran screaming as a hail of turbolaser fire scythed a path through the residential district, fire lighting the night sky as men, women and children were vaporised or burned alive. The blasts carved alone in a line, then back again, obliterating more buildings as the smell of smouldering metal and burned flesh drifted across the city. After a few seconds it stopped., leaving chaos in its wake, alarms deafening those around and panicked citizens huddling as droids fought to put out the blaze.
A minute later a loud hailer announcement was heard over the city, and terrified citizens fought to get into homes, shops, bars or factories. Within ten minutes the streets of Seng Karash were empty except for the droids still fire fighting. The police sat on bunks and chairs in the barracks feeling helpless. Seng Karash had fallen.

Anaxela stood in her opulent quarters aboard the Dark Fusion, talking to Agrist over the display, the blood soaked and happy Mrussk stood next to him.
“The command centre is under our control,” Agrist reported, “we suffered minimum casualties.”
“What about the Cathedral?” Anaxela asked.
Agrist's face soured. “We cannot gain access. The doors are sealed, and are resisting our efforts. There seems to be some sort of force protecting it but we do not know what. It’s even resisting lightsabers.”
“We could try one of the AT-ATs lasers they pack quite a punch, ” Mrussk added.
“No,” a voice said from behind Anaxela. Severina thought for a moment. “I will go down there. We might not need a hammer to crack a nut.”
“Very well,” Anaxela replied. “In the time being send a company to Seng Karash. That will suffice, after Imgaril’s demonstration I doubt the citizens or the police will cause much trouble.” She smiled, reclining on a couch and poured herself a drink. “Orian is ours now.”