Remnant of the Aether

[TheDutchman]

And so the Purgatio Astra continues, the Remnant now legitimately the "Prakith Empire."  And like our "mainstream" Aethans, they now have their own operational Obelisk Array (regardless of how "imperfect" it may be, it is a truly horrifying weapon; one fears that it will be used against...someone, sooner if not later).

It is also striking that the Remnant is even less...Amoral (if not entirely IMmoral given their imperative of Purgatio Astra).  Still, there are several items of note: under their "rule" their vassal systems are actually given the necessary benefits of sentient welfare, a modicum of equity (if not anything near equality), and improved living conditions, especially when compared to the former "Sith" masters.  Of course, this serves as a practical component for them; after all, a reliable tool is one that is taken care of. 

Also, they are victims themselves: the Technocracy was many things, but sympathetic to their individual citizens it was not.  Case in point: each member of the Remnant has been manufactured to increase all martial- and aggressive-behaviors while suppressing (or, more appropriately, eliminating), something that they had no choice in.  For them, Purgatio Astra is more than a base instinct, more even than just some intuition; it is their literal raison d'etre. 

However, this only makes them that much more dangerous to the galaxy at large: they have absolute conviction of their objectives without any moral inhibitors inherent in most sentients ("Nature vs. Nurture" notwithstanding  ).  And I suspect that they will come to loggerheads with other agencies very soon...in fact, sooner than they themselves realize, courtesy of the most unexpected of persons: Jedi Master (and the head of Jedi Intelligence) Tnbu.  Speaking of...

Here we see yet another member of the Jedi who is as much a victim of circumstance as he is an instigator, pitting two enemies against one another for "the good of the Order."  If Kimar's violent adherence to his own rigid orthodoxy showed nothing else, it was that such attestations done "for the good of the Jedi Order" are almost exclusively self-serving, hypocritical, and countrary to the spirit of what the Jedi Order is supposed to be.  And unlike Yoda, Tnbu was not absent from Kimar's tenure as Grand Master, complicit to at least some degree (if for no other reason that he said nothing).  Or perhaps his Oaths of Vigilance stem from such a time, the bloody events of Myrkr and Ord Merit serving to galvanize his own convictions?  He certainly has no problem using Aron for his own motives.

And caught between the Prakith Empire and Tnbu's own machinations is a true victim: the Mak'Tor Knight Ar'On'Dir.  Despite the impending conflagration, I think that IF he survives AND finally makes it back to M'Tzigon, he will find that his homecoming will not be the comfort that he dreams of, especially once/if he learn of the events on Vyth and the loss of a truly good and worthy Jedi, Kage Odjina...

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 44 — Oblivion Gray — Unstoppable Force — Part 1

Broken Partings

These Events take place after Schism’s the Vhal’Dan Civil War Chapter 17 Days of Counted Sorrows.

http://www.saberforum.com/index.php?topic=38018.msg643408#msg643408

<<<<>>>>

“I’m going to help my parents,” Ari’s voice and posture unyielding as the Oblivion armour she wore before the assembly of the People, half in the room, half connected by link-orbs.

“No matter what,” she finished strongly

Her briefing on the state of Galtea, the raging civil war, and the imminent defeat of the side led by Kazic Ovarug - and his request for their military assistance had produced a mixed reaction among the People.

Milaea and Sofa shocked and troubled, Selaena, Melron and their respective children and wards largely indifferent, Jarys contemplative.  Karintha, Kiraea and Valens shared conspiratorial glances that troubled Milaea even more.

“Saani and Kazic,” Karintha said after a pause, Taran a walking dreadnought behind her. They had barely been back from Dathomir a month, the former Thrall of the Witch Queen Lykana still struggling with his memory but physically as strong as any of them.

 “Deserve our gratitude for rescuing you from isolation, caring for and teaching you, it is only fitting we assist them in their hour of need,”

There was a general sense of agreement among the budding group mind of the People, only two islands of doubt stood alone in Sofa and Milaea.

“Even so, we are so few, we cannot afford to put ourselves at such risk cheaply, it would only be fair if we are provided a moderate recompense in addition…”

The People had profited enormously from the war on Dathomir, not just the substantial parting gifts from various tribes they had assisted, but immeasurably valuable loot taken from Blood Peak, Lykana’s personal collections of grimoires, runes, talismans and scrolls, vast stores of high grade weapons and materiel plundered from the Iridonian Mercenaries vessels.  

And more than anything else, experience, training and combat praxis in Dathomiri witchcraft added to their already considerable suite of aetheric powers.

Milaea could sense Kiraea all but salivating at the prospect of looting Galtea rapaciously for their advanced technology and museums crammed with carefully curated Force artefacts, even Jarys intrigued by the prospect of testing himself against the Vhal’Dan knights…

The crown jewel of their predatory motive shone in Valens - a chance to punish Anson D’Aklon for his offences against Ari by destroying what the Arbiter - now rival Kage - loved most - The Vhal’Dan themselves.  

If Ari felt this as Milaea did she made no mention, ever since Kazic had made contact, Ari seemed to have thrown a barrier around her mind, vision blinkered to focus only on saving her parents.  

“I’m certain Frellick face will give us some coaxium for the trip,” Kiraea smiled

“We will need our full force, all four destroyers, new Mark II armour and weapons, all the new abilities learned on Dathomir...it is unfortunate the Hecate is not yet finished...” Valens noted, as Warchief focused on the practicalities and overarching strategy.

“Even then we will need to take careful stock of the situation,” he turned to Ari his illusionary form projected from the floating orb showing genuine concern
“It may already be too late to turn the tide, or even evacuate them,”

Ari nodded, it would take two days to assemble their forces, two weeks at the least, possibly three depending on the Novae and gravity fluctuations in the Deep core, to reach Galtea. The war could be over by then.

“Even if…” Ari didn’t speak the eventuality she feared out loud
“...I would still recover their bodies for proper burial,”

“As a Daughter should,” Karintha agreed before turning to the assembly of faces assessing each one in turn,

“We are all agreed, we will go to Galtea and assist Ari’s adoptive parents, proven Friends of the People?”

Milaea looked back at the matriarch, Ari just beside her, blood red flame cascading behind them, the ruin of cities and ships, an orange glow through which dark silhouettes walked, oblivion boots crushing weak humanoid bone with each footstep.

“No,” she whispered blinking out what was less vision than inevitable fact.

“No,”  Milaea said louder, cutting off her orb, striding out a trail of red anger in her wake.

<<<<<>>>>

“Mili!”  Ari called down the corridors deep in Mount Aelia, a red flare up head signalled her...her...friend..slamming a door open.

“Mili what’s wrong!” Ari had to run to keep up as Milaea, however unconsciously, drew on the aether all but teleporting across entire sections of the Mountain Fortress.

She finally caught her in her room, the lighter red haired woman leaning on her desk over the small collection of Dathomiri wood and stone-cut totems they had been working on together when Ari had stepped out in response to the vibration of Kazic’s link orb  in her pocket.

“Don’t Go, Ari…” Milaea said not turning to her yet
“This won’t end the way you think…”

“Have you had a vision?” Ari carefully replied knowing that was a sensitive subject
“No…I - try not to do that anymore…”  

Ari understood seeing the possible futures, especially unintentionally, was a burden, but it seemed a wasted resource.

“I don’t need a vision to know this will end badly – Kazic, Saani won’t win from this, Valens and Karintha won’t help them, not truly.” Milaea went on finally turning around, eyes pleading.

“My mother is in danger, I can’t turn from them when they need help the most…the others will just help me to do that,”

Milaea sighed. Why wouldn’t Ari listen?

“Ari…Kazic won’t be able to resist the temptation to use Valens…Valens knows that and he’ll punish Kazic for it even as he allows it”

Ari bristled at the insult to her father from someone who had never even met him
“Kazic isn’t like that!” She snapped
“He’s not exploiting us, he asked for help!”

Milaea unconsciously stiffened her arms crossing across her breast
“He’s asking for weapons – if he surrendered this could all be over – instead he’s turned to a force he knows will cause his enemies utter devastation – and you know it too…”

Ari was considering a response…but there was too much truth in what Milaea had said to disagree, Milaea’s face softened as she felt the relenting presence of Ari

“Ari I know this seems like the right thing to do....but…if Kazic is willing to bargain with Valens and Karintha for victory what does that say about his state of mind?”

Memories Milaea didn’t like to dwell on resurfaced for a moment
“Sometimes it’s better not to get involved…”

Ari pursed her lips, Milaea was not holding back on her condemnation of not just Kazic but also The People…Ari knew Karintha and Valens would do what was best for People in all things, no matter what it cost the Vhal’dan, but that didn’t mean it was necessarily incompatible with helping Saani and Kazic…

“I’m already involved…I won’t abandon them.” Ari finally resolved

Milaea stepped forward more forcefully as Ari’s annoyance built

“Ari don’t do this, just stop before you do something you can’t take back…”

Ari stepped up to her hands starting to tremble at the confrontation as the air between them sparked.

“If you’re so worried…” she could feel the static build between them…No not like this…I don’t want to argue with her…it feels wrong…

She couldn’t help herself as she was pulled between her parents and the woman she loved and forced to choose.

“If you’re so worried…why don’t you come with us, you can guide them to a peaceful solution…” Ari continued reaching across the thin physical divide to touch Milaea’s arm trying to bridge the mental gap.

“You can do what you did on Ord Mirit - Freeze an entire Battalion, mind control the Collegium of Maenowans,  turn a Battlecruiser to dust - just one show of your full powers would terrify a huge portion of Anson’s allies into surrendering!” Ari beamed hopefully dispelling the tension with the best solution she could think of for everyone involved.

Yet somehow that hardened Milaea’s face and she pulled her arm back

“You think it’s that easy, that I can just fly down from the sky, be the ‘Deus-Ex-Milaea’ and solve all the Vhal’Dans problems by mind controlling them…”

Milaea knew Ord Mirit had been…special…a use of the Goddesses power through her…but that power was restricted to helping only the People, she couldn’t summon it at will, and the Vhal’Dan Civil war hardly constituted a ‘People at dire risk of extinction’ moment.

Yet that wasn’t what hurt Milaea the most, it was that Ari was talking about her as if she were an…object…a weapon to defeat her adoptive parents enemies, to ‘make them surrender’ not ‘negotiate’

“…I’m not doing that…I’m not getting involved…”

So consumed by her own emotional turmoil she was blind to Milaea’s, Ari snapped back
“This isn’t Vyth!”

Milaea’s eye widened and she pulled retreated

“I know you wish that hadn’t happened, but this isn’t the same at all, I know what I’m going into, Saani knows what she is asking for…”

The line had been crossed.

“Don’t you understand, if she knows what the People are and she still wants them to ‘help’…she’s insane…if she doesn’t know then you shouldn’t tempt her…” Milaea retorted strongly

Ari was getting fed up with her telling her what to do, and what people Milaea had never met, in a situation she refused to understand should do.

“If you don’t want anything bad to happen then tell the others they can’t go with me,”

“I can’t tell People what to do,”
Ari sneered

“You could if you wanted to, one word and you could take Karintha’s place,”

Milaea looked away

“But you don’t want to get involved do you, you just hide in the caverns, abandoning the future by avoiding the present, looking on the past!” Ari’s broadside struck keenly, she tried to get her gaze but Milaea wouldn’t meet it

“You’re so afraid of making the wrong choice you won’t make any choices, and you let the others do all the dirty work – if you didn’t choose it you don’t think you are responsible…well not choosing is a choice Milaea.”

Tears were welling in Milaea’s down cast eyes but she pushed on

“I don’t want to see you hurt Ari…if you do this it’s going to hurt you a lot…”

“Take what you want and pay for it…that’s what Saani says…I’m not changing my mind…if I regret it, then I chose that path and I’ll own it.”

She paused softening her tone as the aether vibrated with confusion and conflict

“I know you don’t want me making the same mistakes…but this is my life Milaea…my family…at least respect my choice even if you don’t agree.”

<<<<>>>>

Preparations were rapid, and efficient.

Two at a time their fleet of Four Aertemisaea Class Destroyers were prepared, loaded with extra munitions and stores, the entirety of the Extolled forces once more pressed into service, their Yorik-Coral craft nestled on the hangar decks beside the Vorynx fighters.

Chiss technology, Aethan Ultradense Minerals and Yuzzan-Vong biotech were beyond the remit of the Ansonite Fleet's breadth of tactical experience, they would not even be able to detect many of the Vong craft.

Rich blackstone and Kevlar-plas scents wafted off the new suits of Mark II armour, the designs begun after the battle of Ord Mirit now pressed into their first active service, while bulkier than the Mark I they boasted thicker plating, a Stygium micro-crystal lattice for advanced stealth, and Bloodstone runic enchantments based on Dathomiri patterns.

They further prepared by marking their bodies with Gormin and Vorynx blood in intricate protective runes.  Wives trailed their hands covered in the sticky red fluid that pulsed with energy over their husbands necks and chests muttering incantations before sealing what was among the most technologically advanced armour in the galaxy.

Kassyndra and Jenaea laced feathers and bead strings infused with Dathomiri hexes into the women's hair, wound tight leather bands around their ankles and wrists with malacia curses carved into the crackled brown, generating a 3 meter radius in which most non-Aethan species would feel progressively more nauseous, a subtle weapon that with their other enchantments re-enforced their advantages.

Even the youngest and untrained Xanea, Nyaea and Oran would join them, acting as healers and pilots for emergency extraction, or recharging and rebinding enchantments.

Only two would not be joining the ‘Assistance’ as it was so euphemistically named, Milaea who remained in the caverns, and Sofa who fronted up to the hangar as Valens oversaw the boarding of the final squads of Extolled Warriors, each bearing a thick band of shedded Ye’vk scales around their arms, adorned with their logographic language on the deeds they promised to perform for the ‘Avatars of the Gods’ measured in enemy skulls, almost all of them had armour adorned with Dathomiri or Iridonian heads making their hideous mutilated bio-tech forms gross beyond reason.

Sofa stood arms crossed as the last elevator lifted them into the Pesephaea, only Valens remaining.

She was not so much angry as sad, for Milaea, for Ari, and most of all for the Vhal’Dan - Kazic had no idea what he was getting himself into, and worse would soon learn there was no way back out again.

But that was a tragedy for him to live...or more likely die….with.  

Sofa had chosen to remain behind as a ‘conscientious objector’, and keep Milaea company as she worked on healing the Rorak Twelve, the handful they’d rescued still in need of months of slow regenerative shatterpoint healing, hopefully that would keep Milaea occupied.

Valens stood in full armour before his wife, she only in loose fitting white-flaxen shirt and baggy trousers suited to the early summer warmth.

The contrast of his vast hard Mark II armour that made him seem twice the size counter intuitively stark given he seemed to cower in her presence like a padawan caught sneaking jubba-jellies in a history lecture.

“I have to protect Aresaea…” he apologised in advance for the hell he would unleash, not to the Outsiders of course, never to them, but to Sofa, for the discomfort she might feel.

“She’d be safe here” Sofa insisted sternly

Then relented with a theatrical sigh

“But you can’t make her stay here, no one can, do what you have to do, just bring yourself and everyone else back safely.”

It hardly needed to be said, given their miniscule population, absolutely no casualties could be permitted, and without Milaea to rapidly heal and shield everyone in kilometer wide aether Veils of Mist, Sofa was certain her husband would have to temper the ferocity of whatever strategies  he had already concocted.

Her tacit, less approval than acceptance, gained he nodded.

An uncomfortable pause followed that she broke with a light kiss on her tiptoes to reach him, a fitting distance she thought, once he was in Warchief mode he was always that cold distance away.

The taste of her pheromones on his lips he locked his helmet on knowing it might not be removed for months, but at least this way encasing those intoxicating scents within the suits closed systems for a little longer.

Stepping on board the Oblivion Army began the inexorable advance to ‘assist’ the Gray Jedi.

In the quiet of the two weeks that followed travelling forgotten hyperspace lanes closed for centuries, millenia even by Astro Navigational hazards deadly for the majority of ships - mere bumps for Deep Core capable vessels - Ari switched off all thought of her argument with Milaea, a singular focus on training and preparing so she could rescue her family.

She had fled from Galtea a girl barely aware, let alone in control, of her burgeoning powers.

She would March back as a Woman and Guardian of the People.

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 44 — Oblivion Gray — Unstoppable Force — Part 2

Aresaea K’aval had left because her parents could no longer protect her from Anson D’Aklon.

When she returned nothing could save those who protected Anson D’Aklon from her.

The filial wrath of a protective daughter and her army of Demi-Gods was first turned on Anson D’Aklon in the form of chunks of ultradense stone twisted into shredding bores hurled into Anson’s armada by dovin basals and telekinetic aether powers.

Chiss reflexive void shielding that turned inwards around the Aertemisaea class destroyers soaked up all but the faintest emanations of heat and radiation concealing the mass of the vessels ensuring by the time the staff on the Gungnïr had detected a faint blip it was already too late.

Taryn -  with his vast experience in unconventional space warfare was put in command of the attack - knew it was only a matter of time before the Vhal’Dan devised a way to track them, and though their  Chiss-Aethan Hybrid shields and weapons were up to 30 per cent better, the Vhal’dan could easily overwhelm them if caught.

He considered it a personal favour to Ari, and pulled off every trick he had to do right by her.

Extolled coral skippers used dovin basals to shield the positioning of the listing Shikkar torpedoes, both mere specs in the void, written off by a handful of scout ships as stray debris from prior battles.  Aethans on board each of the Yorik coral vessels subtly exuded a sense of banality to deter any of the pilots from getting within visual range.

In perfect time to Taryn’s plan, Kazic deployed what few vessels he had remaining in rapid leaps across the lower atmosphere to take Anson’s fleet's eyes largely off the void behind them.

The Anzat himself took the initiative to expertly combine this with misdirection and dis-infiomation that made Anson’s forces think Kazic was probing the orbital blockade to find a way to escape the system. 

They had one shot, all or nothing to wipe out Anson’s fleet.


Slipping within range they swapped Void shields for Stygium stealth drives - Kazic intelligence having marked the vessels with the advanced sensory systems capable of detecting Stealth ships made them the first target.

Telekinesis and dovin basal gravity pulse launched the Shikkar torpedoes straight through the Vhal’Dan shields which were set to deflect energy weapons given none of Kazics ships utilised projectile weapons.  In the Aether Nexi of the Destroyers the Twins coached the others in how to expand their Veil of Shadow Technique - a combination of the Cloak of Shadow learned as children and Veil of Mist traditional Aethan cloaking ability - to hide the Torpedoes for as long as possible int h Aether.

Ari’s face showed neither remorse nor revel as the Ansonite fleet was laid waste in a matter of minutes. 

The chaos caused by the torpedoes boring inside the hulls and detonating their proton bomb cores was followed by the Destroyers zooming through the fleet, switching their Stealth drives on and off as rapidly as possible to give utterly confusing readouts to the Ansonite officers already confused by the destruction around them.

With each stealth ‘off cycle’ the Destroyers unleashed their full 12 Megamaser Turbo Cannon armament into a single vessel at close range, in all but a handful of cases instantly  overwhelming the shields and shredding the metal and men beneath into superheated chunks that blasted outward with the kinetic energy imparted by the Charric based weapons.

From the Aetheric Nexus on each vessel, Yorna now directed a coven of the women and men not piloting vessels to project and Hex of Mystification - it pushed a quarter of the already stressed and overwhelmed Ansonites into full blown rabid panic and delirium - those with the fortitude to survive found themselves unable to concentrate on the simple task of finding life-pods or sealing breaches.

Even at that early stage pockets of resistance formed. On the Gungnïr Triad Mern of the Cataphracts under Silver Knight Looqar Sim saw the pattern with her Shatterpoint skills, desperately tried to communicate the warning back...but ever vigilant Jenaea sensed the intrusion and spun back with the Aethenaea to finish the flagship as quickly as possible.

On the Draugr - hub of Ansonite Naval Intelligence - Maenowan Ts’An’Ral of Triad Nern was typing his observations even as his pink crenellated Siniteen head was bleeding profusely, his analytical mind piecing together all the information he could as screen after screen from the fleets integrated Sensor Network went blank.  Yaret-kor from an Extolled Coral-skipper darting out from beneath the Perspehapea to add further confusion with its vastly different profile and weaponry, sent a magma blob into the Draugr just before the Siniteens brief could upload to the holonet transceiver fully.

The four destroyers, Aertemisaea, Aethenaea, Aephrodaea and Persephaea each took over a dozen ‘prizes’ within the space of mere hours, relentless fire and advanced stealth technology combined with carefully placed Yuuzhan Vong gravity manipulations to deny the few captains that managed to regain a semblance of control, and officers that could manage to discern the patterns, any time to communicate it to the rest of the fleet.

There was no need to finish off Anson’s remaining battlegroup.

Leaving a portion of the fleet intact was essential to giving Anson the illusion he could still, if needed, retreat from the planet under his own direction.

More debris than ships by weight behind them the fighters pulled back in and the Destroyers micro jumped to above the orbital plane, Taryn leaning back flexing his fingers boots on the console satisfied with a job well done.

<Well Poppet looks like round 1 goes to us,> 

Ari’s hands were white knuckled on the weapons control of the Persephaea, the brief warmth she had felt reuniting with her mother given over to the cold instinct to protect her parents that manifested in dissatisfaction as she scanned the Aether sensing distress, but no despair. 

Anson had not been aboard any of the vessels. 

While he still lived they were not safe.

<<<<>>>>

For his disadvantage in numbers and resources Kazic had done - not that Valens would ever say such - an impressive job to continue his resistance as long as he had.

The Anzat’s tactical nous was not to be underestimated, he had prepared the groundwork for the Aethans arrival during their 15 day transit very well given the circumstances - in most cases they could directly into key enemy positions while relying on Kazic to hold strong points to retreat back into.

Valens strategy was based on the premise that the People were - compared to the wretched amalgam of species that lived in sick omni-cultural harmony - Demigods, each able - on average - to crush anyone of the lesser things underfoot.

Demi-Gods needed to be omni-present, inscrutable, and invincible. 

With only 19 warriors and 3 supporters, unable to risk any casualties given their low population - or indeed even injury without Milaea’s peerless healing ability and sheer volume of raw Aetheric power - Valens had to play a cautious game with his vicious fast attacks.

So far as the Ansonites and Kazics forces were aware the ‘Shadow Warriors’ operated either alone or in groups of three, striding forward against suicidal odds without fear or pause and unleashing extreme Telekinetic of Force Lighting attacks that shredded entire building apart, upended Tanks, overloaded and melted Defensive Platforms before advancing under cover of relentless Hades Fire and Oblivion arrows that shredded through the far less dense standard armour of the Vhal’Dan regulars, before finally cutting down any knights in brutal quick melee.

In truth each group of three was at least four, supported by up to six Extolled in Cloaks of Nuun - the Yuuzhan Vong already utterly invisible in the Aether rendered completely unseen by their bio-tech masquers which were beyond the remit of any technology known in the Republic to detect, let alone in an active warzone where scramblers and faux signal emitters were copious.

Divided into Teams Voursus, Vorynx, Vosis and Vopanthera, Valens frequently swapped members between squads and the nominal squad leadership to spread experience and ensure no two missions were undertaken by the same group, denying the Vhal’Dan analysts any chance to find patterns.

It necessitated rapid movement of his forces across the span of Vhal’Udhav and Galtea as a whole - that Aethans required no sleep and minimal rest made this simple enough.

Success came quickly beginning with infiltrating and disabling critical infrastructure supplying the Ansonite protected civilian areas - water filtration, power supply and public transport -Jenaea’s unrivalled danger sense allowing them to slip through the enemy lines, if slowly, Evyn’s and Kiraea’s stealth quickly crippling security, and Taryn the pirate saboteur and Maeson the demolitions expert doing the rest.

Amidst the more nasty of Valens tricks was to set loose a whole pack of the pallid wiry limbed Volurks - vicious predators from Aethas underground caves who were overpopulated on the planet - into the sewer and service system beneath Vhal’Udhav, the vicious creatures were threatening enough to Aethans - against the regular troops holding key water filtration and power junctions they were a nightmare - Anson forced to divert his elite Cataphracts to deal with them early on as they made entire sections of the subways and underground networks unsafe for transit.

Aresaea, along with Selaena as her children Lydan and Lyaea, more openly supporting Saani and her Shadows in scouting and damaging enemy forward positions, as well as causing general chaos where they could, using Selaena’s sniper expertise to eliminate target at incredible distances and Lyaea’s incomparable ability to mind control captives to perform comically suicidal actions or spread disinformation.  When pressed down Lydan, the quiet shepherd who wrestled vorynx weekly would be sent in with a single word to crush any threat.

Meanwhile at least one team was always furthering aspects of the Peoples agenda Kazic did not need to be aware of -  placing a series of Geomantic Circles access large areas of the planet - based on Dathomiri design they drew the ‘natural’ Force from the planet toward the surface within the area bordered by the Circles changing the very nature of the Living Force flow to a more ‘Primal’ hue that the Aethans could access more easily than the comparatively ‘intellectual’ Vhal’Dan. 

The effect was minimal at the start, perhaps a 2.5 per cent gain and corresponding loss in speed of using the Aether, but as the weeks progressed it would seep and spread.

It also made destroying possible futures much easier, enabling the Aethan force to pervert any attempt Anson, trained in future visions by no less than the renowned Aing-Tii Varel-zo, made to look for temporal tactical advantage.

The Extolled were also set in roving bands, promised Blessings of the Avatars for each Knights head they brought back rammed on the spikes of their crab armour.  As a guerilla force undetectable in the Force they caused terror and confusion as they bore no physical or tactical similarity to the ‘Shadow Warriors’.  They prided themselves on their slaughter of the ‘Graaaay Jedaaaai’ Yhum proudly wearing the decaying head of a Maenowan on his spiked shoulder, Gnuur glorying the loss of one eye for the price of two Koawan scalps.
   

Regardless what seemed like easy slaughter to Kazics commanders were harder fought battles that saw the Aethans tag in and out to ensure they always presented a front of Three unstoppable warriors to spread their mythos, the Extolled providing vital assistance to relieve pressure points and ‘create’ cover with thud bugs and boom-slugs to enable a tag in and out.

Valens remained alone commanding from Kazics war room, leaving on occasion to assassinate the more capable commanders among Anson’s forces as part of his plan to hollow out mid ranking officers leaving a leadership vacuum filled by non-commissioned officers, talented but inexperienced Koawans, or forcing higher level officers and Maenowans to get into the nitty gritty diverting their attention from broader strategy preventing them seeing the true strokes of the painting Valens was creating.

Regardless it was inevitable given time, information, and resources the Ansonites would begin to develop countermeasures to all the Aethans advantages in technology, Aether powers, stealth and martial skill.

Much of Valens fight was denying the Ansonites that time and deliberately switching his tactics to avoid any patterns to emerge, notably by allowing the other People to have a large say in their collective plans.

He took Taryn’s suggestion of creating a ‘Pirate’ group with Evyn, Lydan and Maekal  and 30 Extolled, Taryn using his piratical nous with Vong Yorik-coral vessels and dovin basals to board and loot dozens of Ansons supply ships to and from outlying planets in the sector.

Jenaea proved to be a patient tactician and devised a program of highly public intimidating attacks, deftly avoiding any conflict or engagement with her impeccable danger sense, getting extremely close then gleefully unleashing the twin dreadnought horrors of Jarys and Taran in the midst of Vhal’Dan regulars causing terror.   

While Taran still struggled with short term memory recall, his ferocious muscle memory from years as the ‘Varaganian’ and Aether resistance built against Dathomiri Witchcraft, combined with Karintha’s simple instruction ‘Anything not People must die’ made him a devastating berserker shattering anything less than the most seasoned Maenowans and Silvers.

Yorna, Karintha, Lyaea and Kiraea delved deep into their Witchraft to unleash chaining subtle malacia and nightmare hexes amongst the Vhal’Dan that increased the fatigue and stress hormones in most species, slowly grinding morale, and breaking any sleep the soldiers did get with terrors.

Progress was still not as smooth or effortless as Valens allowed Kazic to believe.

Valens understood an aura of invincibility and inscrutability was critical to making his comparatively insignificant force a decisive factor in a war between competent veteran Gray Jedi.

There were dozens of maenowans and silvers more than a match for the younger and less martially gifted Aethans.

On more than one occasion Melron, Jarys, Karintha, Taran, Melron and Yorna - Guardians of the old Ways had to step in, taking injuries themselves to extricate another surrounded or out matched, then increasingly helping each other.

Valens slowly came to rely - much to his chagrin - on Kazic himself positioning his ever growing forces as more Ansonites defected through fear rather than conviction.

Kazic served as a very useful tool in that regard, while the Anzat could not truly conceive of the magnitude of what Valens intended strategically, he was tactically capable enough to trust in for filling gaps and taking advantages in spaces Valens own severely limited Aethan force could not.

Aethans were designed for war, to fight for months on end by cycling two of their six conscious levels into a sleep pattern - even so the sheer number of Vhal’Dan knights ground them down.

Fatigue began to bite at the same time the Ansonites initial shock began to wear out. There could be no denying they had inflicted a gaping wound on Anson’s forces with their initial attacks.

But it was not fatal.

After being battered by three silvers to rescue Evyn, Melron had to withdraw to the ships to have his armour repaired and recover a number of soft muscle injuries and ligament tears, Evaea took three shots to the leg, Maeson a broken nose and wrist, Yorna after bringing down a storm of lighting on a bunker suffered aether exhaustion burns.

Karintha had to abandon the raid on Ansons main coaxium refining facility after the enemy collapsed the tunnels they were entering through, 3 Extolled were killed, Taran had to hold tonnes of foundation above his head only narrowly escaping himself with torn muscles in his back.

Taryn's raids halted once a clever bridge officer determined a way to, if not pinpoint, at least detect dovin basal gravity manipulation used to provide motile force to the yorik trema boarding vessels and to tractor victims in.

Ansonites set up a sting with an explosive laced ship that blew a yorik trema, Taryn and Lydan forced to go EV in a kinetic bubble before being picked up by Maekal nearby.

Those of the Vhal’dan from cultures more in tune with the vast corpus of force powers under traditional witchcraft began to unwind the hexes they had unleashed and track down the geomantic circles.

The Extolled with their Masquers and living weapons were a potent force, few of the Gray Jedi had any response to blorash jelly or amphistaffs, but they could easily be outnumbered and were far more vulnerable to conventional weapons, leading to losses to mines, missile launchers,  and simple concentrated blaster fire when caught.

They desperately missed the extra blade and Jedi experience Sofa could provide…

Valens personally missed Sofa herself, her faux-dramatic sarcasm that broke tension and grim plotting with levity a sore absence.

...and equally the incomparable defensive and healing powers of Milaea that could’ve halved recovery time and spread protective aether shields around their squads reducing injuries in the first place.

Nyaea, Oran and Xanaea on the ships provided nursing as best as they could under Kassyndra’s direction, rapidly advancing their  skills abilities by necessity, Oran especially had an affinity for such it was as if in his forgotten lost years he had trained with Force healers. 

Still nothing could substitute the sheer enormity of Milaea’s power.

Valens could not risk any lives while they were so few, yet as they wore themselves down the risk increased dramatically...and the promised booty had not arrived. 

They invariably found storehouses and vaults for force artifacts long since stripped by Anson or Kazics forces.

Rumours of a rogue wookie with several valuable pieces unable to be pursued as their time was stretched thin.

Valens strategy and tactics still achieved exceptional results to the point Kazic did not notice the slow down, or if he did assumed it was part of his strategy to draw Anson into a final confrontation.

In truth it was the People reaching their limits against a numerically superior enemy that were getting wise to their tricks.

They had to trust the Anzats promise to deliver on the rewards for victory and maintain a facade of immutable strength before their allies by remaining in the field and progressing the strategy.

A Trust that wilted ever faster as Kazic understood his allies more and more.

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 44 — Oblivion Gray — Unstoppable Force — Part 3

Valens own solitary predation of mid ranking commanders and knights had taken more out of him than he cared to admit. How many had it been now...seven raids averaging four targets, the faces and names were there if he cared to recall.

He did not.

Introspection was cut  by Kazic’s voice.

"Saani has reported back - the convoy was exactly where you predicted, we captured all but two loaders, which Anson’s men managed to scuttle...our supplies of power cells doubled in one attack..." wonder always mixed with fear in Kazics voice

"What serial numbers and makers' marks were on the cells?" Valens asked

Kazic was growing used to such random minutiae, Valens capacity to retain and analyse the smallest pieces of data astounding him still.

"I will confirm with our quartermasters...are we looking for anything specific?"

"We believe Anson has been operating factories beneath the ruins of Sem'Piel Industrial district, the moulds retain the serial numbers of a factory supposedly destroyed early in the war...a minor detail forgotten as the machines were moved underground to an unsued Mag-subway terminal which is used to move manufactures through the old subway to a distribution point closer to the sea."

Kazic frowned considering the possibility...or rather how he had missed it.

"Your shadows have proven efficacious, you will send them to scout the area thoroughly" Valens adopted his ‘command’ tone.

In truth he suggested the Shadows as he needed to give as many Aethans as long to recuperate as possible.

The People could feel the Seiðr - the telling and shaping of the future, thread and rivers of possibility, were expanding to a critical mass,  pressure that needed release in events of momentous Aetheric vergences.

Even the Anzat could see such through his daen nosi, lines of fate.  Ari had postulated a similarity between the Seiðr and Daen Nosi, Valens had not taken it seriously, considering the Seiðr most likely a more perfect evolution of their ancestral Miraluka Vision possessed by the Ter -Sene - the greatest of their Seers. 

Spending more time with Kazic had made him question if there wasn’t, somehow, a link to this Dean nosi as well.

"Saani and her best squads can be ready in twelve hours, if they have been operating underground it must be lightly defended, we would have picked up a substantive presence there on routine scans...with additional forces we might be able to take it. This would have to be one of Ansons last power cell facilities on the surface, a significant blow to him and boon to us" Kazic explained

Already Kazics analysts had discovered Anson was clandestinely pulling his best troops back to Lus'phor hidden among regular force rotations. This could accelerate the process and, with a few more successful pushes on fortified zones, give Kazic all but total control of Urban Galtea.

"If you could spare some of your commandos...." Kazic suggested

Valens could not...but he had few excuses and had to maintain the invulnerability illusion.

"I can send a squad," Valens.

Kazic knew there were many things Valens was, by omission rather than deceit, keeping him in the dark about. The web was too intricate, and the needs of the moment too pressing for theAnzat to delve them.  Regardless he tried.
 
“Is there anything else I can assist with?” Kazic probed

“See that none of our gains are lost over the next few hours,” Valens said with derision he did not feel, knowing full well Kazic was more than able to - if Valens allowed him - move the war to victory from this point now.

Yet the Aethan had to keep the Anzat in his place.

“I have tasks to attend to,”

<<<<>>>>

See Schisms the Vhal’Dan Civil War Chapter 22 for the immediate hours after.
http://www.saberforum.com/index.php?topic=38018.msg696707#msg696707

<<<<>>>>

Aresaea

She strode through the battlefield untouched.

The screams, pleads, outright horrors of the broken and dead deflecting as harmlessly off her thoughts as blister bolts and light sabers off her armour.

Aresaea watched with only tactical interest the ruination of the once verdant and vibrant Galtea, the desolation of Vhal’Udhav from a thriving metropolis to haunted broken towers and dust choken ruins fought over by sniping soldiers and the occasional inconsequential duel of knights on opposite sides.

She stopped at some point on the scorched earth of the Stryka Annix Botanical Gardens where once she had asked the Gods of Galtea for permission to stay a while until her People found her.

It had been the heart of the city, now it was the most wrecked following the Promenade Incident, when the gardens had burned the fires so intense it spread to the nearby entertainment and hospitality venues, then the larger buildings, the districts repulsor generators failing, taking the entire district and thousands of civilians with it.

It was now a pit of melted metal and crumblin ferrocrete, bones still here and there among discarded weapons and clothes.

With a crooked head and minor interest she observed the scene. 

I wonder how they did it… was her only thought regarding the fire and devastation that followed.

Not who, or why, simply how. 

Both sides claimed the other was responsible, Anson’s propaganda machine boisterous in denouncing the ‘Anzat Murderer of Vhal’Udhav’. 

It didn’t matter to her what her Father may or may not have done, just as it didn’t matter now what her People did or did not do.

Maekal was let off his leash, ravenous with delight to prove his worthiness to Evaea -his vicious potential finally unlocked by Karintha’s careful matchmaking - he collected Teidowan skulls by the dozen.  Kiraea and Selaena vented their insatiable hatred of outsiders in tolls counted in the score of sniper or knife bled victims.  Yorna, Adaea, Nyaea and Jenaea experimented with Dathomiri curses on soldier and civilian alike, taking the odd captive for bio readings before ‘disposing’ of them.

If she missed the clarity of the duels of Champions and standing armies favoured on Dathomir, it was only because that would have been more expedient in achieving her sole objective - that was protecting her parents and destroying their enemies.

Perhaps it was a failing in Aethan culture, but to Ari why her parents were at war with Anson, and how they chose to prosecute that war, did not matter one bit.

She had told her father very clearly
“It’s not up to me to stop you…But one thing that I can do is be a voice to my People for the Vhal’Dan…for although they assist, they will only ever do what is best for the People.”

He hadn’t understood, not truly even as he nodded, but it wasn’t her place as an adult daughter to question her fathers judgement. 

For the People were always of one mind, one focus - the enemy of one was the enemy of all.  This was how she understood her own role here, her family were in danger, she would protect them.  It might be easier to run, to hide, but the duty of a daughter was to support her parents' decisions, not make them.

She could walk through the chaos, saber in hand, slicing down those who would never surrender, sparing those who might, wondering the how of the atrocities both sides committed and not the why for one very simple reason.

She had come to protect her father and mother.

Not to save them.

<<<<>>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 45 — Oblivion Gray — Immovable Object — Part 1

Reprieve

The Galaxy was upside down.  Smoke and dust filled a grey landscape over the ruinous sky that had been a city.

His long fingered limbs pushing himself back upright Koawan Tol Yoru felt the ache in his facial plate that had bent too far back, and the memory of heat from the explosion that had turned flipped him round and landed him headfirst as surely as the entirety of his factions advantages had been

Hand instinctively reaching to his belt he felt the absences of saber as a physical blow.  his glassy rounded eyes on either side of his extended cranium searched in opposition to each other as the Ithorian knight scrambled.

The boom and crack of explosions was so constant now he paid it no mind, held no fear that at any moment he could be turned to so much red vapour by a mortar hit. 

For him that would be a merciful death. 

pushing aside a fallen chunk of what had been a wall panel in the shelled building he found the scratched and stained saber, the once lustrous newly lathed metal tarnished with black grey carbon scoring.

Not pausing, he stumbled upon his hooves, plodding over the uneven ground as fast as he could to rejoin the column slowly moving to the rendezvous, under constant bombardment from the False Kages forces.

They had been caught in another ambush, their own mech support firing on them initially through the actions of a mind addled non-Vhal’Dan commander Koawan Her’in had to...had to…

well the woman’s mind was so far gone there was no choice, to preserve the chain of command she had to be removed.

She had been touched by the Trinta.

A rear guard line of troops held behind upturne speeders and half a mag-train firing ineffectually into the dense ruins all about hoping to at least deter the enemy getting any closer.

While the Ansonite Battalion - or the quarter that was left of it - was not outnumbered, they were surrounded, and the cowardly Anzat’s Shadows and guerilla’s were hard to catch, and even the Spec-Ops now refused to try and pursue in the ruins for fear of the Trinta.

Making a quick run in open space he heard the pings of blaster shot against ferrocrete before diving behind a Sergeant lining up a shot with his chipped Sniper rifle.

“Shavit!” the human spat behind a dented helmet having missed another chance to the fast moving guerillas.

Yoru had no time to assist heading back cover to cover to the main column, thankful he had not been left behind for the Trinta.

Always the Elders had told of the Trinta coming from the Anti-world, the inhabitants of the opposite of the Mother-Jungle of Ithor that sometimes slipped into the Jungle.  In the mirror world he inhabited, Yoru felt he had slipped into the Anti-World - a jungle of Sentient constructed ruins where not a leaf or vine could be seen, where Death outpaced Life.

Truly all was upside down.

Crouching in his runthrough the half sunken top of a curved tunnel he spied Her’in ahead, his green saber lit who gestured him to come faster as a thrumming boom filled the air, transports cruising overhead to pick them up in another troubling retreat.

Merciful Mother Jungle let me bask in your dew filled Dawn once more Yoru prayed as he ran ahead.

Doors on the transports opened, troops inside with side mounted repeaters unleashed on the larger of the nearby ruins, the mortars and snipers falling quiet for brief peaceful seconds.

For a fleeting moment Yoru dared hope.

Then the wall Her’in was pressed against exploded outward, vast yellow white beams that seared his visions cut into the side of 3rd company incinerating a dozen at least into flakes of dust.

Tiny blips of red tipped death flew over head slamming into the transport shields, most exploding without effect except to muddy the air with even more black retch worthy smoke that filled the gills of his two mouths.

He saw Her’in...or what was left, trying to claw out from under a slab of the wall that had surely crushed him below the waist.

Then through the mist of fire a dark hand grasped the Ikotchi’s head and without effort or inconvenience crushed it inward.

All of Yoru’s throats expelled their air in shock as the Trinta stepped forward, raising in one hand a rifle that glowered with magma red and firing with precision that defied even a Maenowans skills as enemy soldiers rushed past to hit 3rd and 4th in the flank.

This was the end he realised, the entire Battalion would be culled mere meters from escape.

With trembling uncertainty his blue balde sprung to life and he clambered forward hooves pinching as some stray piece of metal stabbed up through his well worn plasteel-sole.

Then the Cataphracts Arrived.

Solid strong beams of orange came micro seconds before over two dozen micro missiles flanking the flankers.  Even the Trinta - the Oblivion Monster, seemed suddenly stunned.

From three sides  came three titans of Humanoids that ran despite the obvious bulk of their armour across the uneven debris strewn ground.

Each appeared a giant, thick plated armour the colour of dusted stone gave the impression of living statues of ancient Jedi come to life to wreak ghostly vengeance, matte down black armaments across the vast tank like suits indicated the latest technology to do so.

Beams of saber energy as tall as Yoru himself burst to life bash back any shot that neared them, each member of the triune squads covering the over perfectly as they advanced and continued to fire.

In the midst of one raced Jelan Ya'qul, Maenowan and Primus of Triad Besh - infinitely cool under pressure,his bespoke Gauss rifle aimed straight at the Shadow Warrior, taking in his Secundus and Tertius senses as much as his own to make the shot.

With preternatural speed the Shadow Warrior dodged the Plasma Shell - but it caused him to be hit by arm-mounted las fired from Triad Esk - it’s own Primus Ravra Påx Crion purred contentedly in her Cathar tongue as her own Secundus and Tertius, the Barabel twins Rana and Rena loped into melee with the False-Kage’s warriors, their Beskar Breakers were dodged - but it was a faint for their muscular bladed tails to swing around and slam the trooper to the ground in bone crunching deaths.

The Reptilians hissed in Glee as the pressure on the Shadow Warrior intensified, the Anzat’s forces - for the first time in weeks - victims of an ambush.

With a Roar Silver Ostooloruu Wuurich, Primus of Triad Herf turned the eternal chip on his shoulder to mechanical advantage to bash through an enemy demolition trooper cowering behind a personal shield.

The Beskar-Breaker, the enormous Zweihander passed down through generations that his special Order within the Vhal’Dan wielded, shattered the thin kinetic barrier and sliced with crackling energy through the body.

The Lions head symbol that adorned every Zweihander in honour of Saril Båz Rhadde, unifier of the First Cataphract Battalion during the Battles of Istic III, gleaming against the ubiquitous soot and blood mist.

Adapting swiftly as they expected the Shadow warrior rolled backward into a couch aiming his nefarious weapon carefully into the wookies chest. 

The hell red shot struck Herf’s Secundus crackling green blade, but the kinetic impact of the Macro-Maser weapon still cut through enough to dent the wookies pauldron.

Instantly the Cataphract  armor, a self-replicating plassteel ablative plate-and-mail construction went to work repairing the minor damage. From micro deposits within the the pauldron  - then refilled from a larger reservoir in the back plate, the Dover Catalyst - a rare form of Crystal found only on Kewda under the Ancient Stone Guardians gaze - was deposited by the self-replicating nanites to repair the dent in the armour as if it were never there.

Now curious the Shadow warrior switched tactics, holstering the rifle it flipped out a Bow, nocked and fired three arrows faster than Yoru could see into a Triad he had not.

The Oblivion tipped weapon struck hard on his chest piece, but did little damage as the ablative Cataphract armour responded to the kinetic impact with a micro plasma cloud that deadened the impact, the Dover sealing what microscrataches were left.

Ravra meanwhile slashed down another soldier as the False Kage’s forces began a faux retreat as they were reinforced.

The Cataphracts didn’t care, they were the bulwark, the Durasteel fist of the Vhal’Dan that were trained to fight against numbers ten times their own.

A curious tilt of the head and the Shadow warrior all but tore the Force as Yoru understood it apart.

A thunder that trembled the ground for meters followed the blinding crash of a wave of Force Lighting beyond anything Yoru had imagined possible.

Bolts of pure Force energy slammed into Triad Herf. With grunts, hisses and growls they took the powerful attack, trusting in their armour. 

While upgraded over the decades, not the least for the Dover, much of the core material hailed from the New Sith War, calloused and inured by battle against Force Wielding opponents the Lightnings impact was barely a half of what it should have been - the main blasts caught on the Zewihander glowing blades as the Shadow Warrior expected, barely a quarter of the intended arc’s hit the armour joints, causing nothing but uncomfortable twitches and tingles that were soon shrugged off.

Rearguard opened up on the Cataphracts as the Shadow Warrior seemed to think better of his position, and for the first time, retreated behind the regular troops.

Disciplined and controlled the Triads didn’t pursue, the orders were clear - now was not the time.  Instead they methodically devastated the rear guard as the Shadow Warrior vanished into the ruins, the false Kages ambush a failure, the vast majority of the Battalion evacuated as planned.

Stone still in astonishment, for the first time since the Trinta had appeared, Yoru dared to Hope as the cheers boomed across the quieted battlefield..

<<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 45 — Oblivion Gray — Immovable Object — Part 2

Resistance

There was chaos and madness.

Columns of metal twisted into faces of leering purple tree trunks, the screech of hideous fell beasts that plied the skies reverberated in their auditory senses, the scent of decay boiled off unfathomable beasts with ever shifting numbers of limbs.

Many were on the ground balled in foetal positions trying to block out the sound.  Others gripped the sentient earth fearing they would fall up into the sky if their rictus grasp were released.

One by one they were cut apart by the Mist that Consumed all.

Until a Reason, Focus and Order penetrated the pandaemonium.
  
“TRIBUS FORWARD!” was the rallying cry of Silver Knight Alfalex Nåj Withstr, Primus of Triad Jenth.

Before him strode the beacon that parted mad waters - they were the ‘Clergy’

Lead by the spiritualist - for want of a better analogy in such cross species and cultural concepts - Primus Maenowan Qaman'Xa,  Aing-Tii, Triad Isk unwove the nefarious illusions that blanketed the entire battlefield with the “Clarity of Mind” technique the Triad used to center themselves in the currents of the Force and breach the delusions of physical world and senses.

 The Force illusions sputtered revealing the columned cloisters and body strewn courtyards of what had been the Vhal’Udhav University South Campus Center for Anthropology.

Qaman'Xa fought back the troubled unnatural currents of the Flow,
“This is not the Will of the Maker!” zher translator-vox communicated into a tinny female voice to the others, though as with all things between Aing-Tii and humanoids what Qaman’xa understood as ‘Will’ and ‘Maker’ were probably only tangentially analogous to what the rest of the Tribus did.

It didn’t matter, in the bond of the Tribus forged in the crucible of war now faced with the sickening twists of Aether Magic the need to respond with Control, Light and Purity was evident.  

‘The Clergy’ buckled down in cover and spread their minds into the Great Beyond to draw forth the Light and Truth to push against the Aethan Witchraft.

“Nnnnh!” Adaea hissed as she pulled a sword from another body, the Dispelling of her Illusion a bladed dagger in her own Aetheric Aura,

“That’s not very nice…” she seethed even as she twisted the head off another Knight currently in the throes of a paralysing hallucination.

She and Nyaea had worked so carefully on the Madness Curse that covered a radius of nearly a hundred meters about her, it had been a cathartic process for Nyaea to externalise her troubled nightmares onto the Outsiders.
<Taran teach, them a lesson!>

Crunching another body under his boot Taran hefted his claymore, shouldering aside another solider with enough force to shatter their ribcage as he built up into a run through the remains of what had been three companies of Ansonite troops defending the Campus as the professors had scurried to evacuate the very artefacts, exhibits and research the Aethans had come to plunder.

He pounded straight through a cloister wall - his task in each engagement was simple and clear - Obey the Women as he did now, and in the absence of direct instruction, seek the strongest non-Aethan presence and destroy it.  

Qaman'Xa instantly sensed the hurricane of power aimed straight for zher Triad, without a word it was communicated to the Battle meld and responded to instantly.

The juggernaut ex-Varangian’s charge was met by the Corellian Cresh Crash.

Named for all their members all being natives of that world saved from the gutter gangs by Master Gray Vilhynn Soban, Triad Cresh Primus Chimi Mal-Wel and Secundus Kylista Jachowa ran up the both flanks over the broken ground with a flurry of beskar-breaker heavy Ataru lunging swipes while micro missiles fired from four launchers - two more than standard-  on their backs.

Taran swiftly dodged where he could, telekinetically pushing himself where he couldn’t as the two Zweihanders lashed at him - just as his own Claymore was poised to strike back the Tertius ‘Lil’Nern’ advanced down the middle of his Cresh comrade mini-turbo laser spitting death at 500 rounds a minute - at least fifteen shots slammed into Taran  as the women boxed him in, even the Blackstone armour heating orange at the intensity of the mini-turbo’s bolts of raging red forcing him to retreat back for the first time in weeks.

The small offices and carefully manicured cultural garden beds behind him were shredded by the turbo laser shots as the combination of Ataru lunges, Micro missiles and sheer volume of fire began to overwhelm him.

Her most deadly bludgeon so rapidly trapped Adaea directed the rest of her team - Taryn and Maeson forward as she fought a mind spiking battle against the Clergy to regain control over he Metaphysical plane.

Hades Repeater primed, Maeson ran at a couch to flank the Clergy, Taryn moved to intercept Triad Jenth.

Alfa’s Triad went straight down the center of the formerly retreating and panicked Soldiers who turned to join them with yells of confidence as they surged forward.  

His Secundus Honslou took sniper shots even at full gait, such was the Togruta’s preternatural skill, using a sniper rifle like he had a sword in his days training as a blade master, forcing Adaea into deeper cover.  


The Tertius Luucadri ah-Marq, a Lorrdian, observed the disposition of the nearby officers dotted around the low campus offices and open air lecture boxes, crafted carefully into the igneous rock of the local strata of the region to create small natural amphitheatres that were now turned to large fox holes, heavy weapons emplacements and kill zones.

With his carefully honed native ability for mimicry that translated to a near prescient ability to read allies and enemies alike, al-Marq guided the Clergies sense of calm with the Force to those who needed it the most even as he whirred his arm mounted lasers that bounced off Taryn's Katana.

One hand on his blade the other firing relentless shots from his Hades pistol Taryn blasted the same point in Marq chest plate repeatedly forcing him on the defensive as Alfa drove into him Beskar Breaker crackling murder.

Methodical and dedicated to the study of the martial arts, Alfa pressed the Aethan hard, Taryn’s quick Katana and fluid street fighter style  usually gave him an advantage against the stodgy saber forms of Knights.  A Cataphract  was a different beast altogether and the former pirate fared poorly - Alfa was systematic as al-Marq was observant, the Lorrdian communicating in their link his observations of Taryn and filtering through hints at what his next move might be.

The first blow was struck when Taryn overreached a thrust, tried to cover with a blast of Aether flame that was lost to the callous of the Cataphract Armour, and Alfa swung straight into the young man’s thigh plate with a crackling hiss.

Scrambling up a fallen wall Maeson thought he had the Clergy dead on, unleashing fifty Phrik rounds into them, each one cutting through empty air as their illusion died.

<Goddesses Bloody EYES!> how had he, an Aethan!, been fooled by an outsider illusion…

He had no time to contemplate as the Clergy fell on him from all sides with Micro missiles and zweihanders, the former burst on every plate of his armour and filled the air with choking acidic smoke, the latter beat down on him from all sides.

Taking a chance Adaea snapped out from cover bow taught and unleashed like a machine gun her 6 arrows, three at Honslou the sniper, three more at the Clergy, forcing the Cataphracts to ease off Maeson long enough for him to scramble away and drop an implosion grenade, the Triad scattering further as the device churned the earth into a ball of compacted desiccated carbon.

Honslou dodged the first two, but the third arrow lodged in his shoulder, the tip just reaching his skin and seeping in a Force Fire enchantment that ate at his muscle.  He quickly detached the plate and cast the malefic thing off, more determined than ever to put a diamond bullet through the witches skull.

A see-sawing clash commenced, Taran able to keep the Corellian Cresh Crash from overwhelming him, but not strike back meaningfully as Lil’Nern’s turbo laser kept him from getting his Claymore into Chimi or Kylista.

Taryn locked with Alfa and Marq, the two Cataprhacts not quite able to break through as the Aethan juggled a Katana and two hades pistols, the heavy Cataphract armour could take a number of hits from the pistols, and the dover catalyst repaired the damage, but Taryn’s preternatural ability to hit the same spot on the armour each time forced them into awkward stances to protect the weak points.

Honslous kept the witch physically pressed down as she snapped arrows where she could, while  Qaman'Xa kept her eldritch powers contained as the rest of zher Triad pursued Maeson whose armour had been substantially damaged, and repeater broken by their illusion ambush beating leaving him to snap rifle shots and counter zweihanders with his daggers where he could.

Aether and Force slammed and cracked with Kinetic blasts and Lighting arcs in between the conventional weapons in a balanced clash as the nine Cataphracs numbers and battle-meld made up the difference against the naturally stronger Force connection of the four Aethans.

Both sides were skilled enough not to make a mistake that would allow the dynamic equilibrium to break, a single Aethan or two Cataphracts lost would shift the balance inexorably against the side who took the loss.  

Instead it was the slowly recovering regular troops that forced the Shadow Warriors to retreat.  
Regaining their lucidity the corps reformed as the officers gathered them, bolting into the natural amphitheaters carved into the igneous rock which they used as trenches to open up on the Shadows in support of the Cataphracts.

<We need to pull back,> Adaea’s instruction was cold and clear, recognizing they were now seriously outnumbered.

It wasn’t a fighting retreat, it was a rout.

The Demi-gods trusted in their biologically superior speed enhanced by the Aether to blitz out of their engagements, dropping grenades or pulsing waves of kinetic energy to get them space to escape.

The Tribus swiftly opened up with their ranged weapons as they pursued, aiming for the feet and slowing them to give the soldiers time to bring up their heavy weapons.

The Aethans covered each other with arrows and Hades fire lost to  Beskar breaker blocks, The Clergy unwinding any attempts to cast Illusions or launch Malacia attacks with their Clarity of Mind in the Force acting like a physical shield against the Aethan witchcraft.

Drawing on the ever obedient men, Adaea all but consumed their aetheric stamina to power herself - channelling their energies into a single massive blast that pushed up from 5 meters under the ground along a 50 meter curved line.

The Tribus advance was stopped dead as Qaman'Xa preantral foresight paused them just short of the explosion of dirt and detritus that lifted like a wall in front of them.

“Cowards,” Alfa sneered, his chest plate still smoking from the pistol shots slowly being rebuilt by the near depleted dover catalyst

“Clever,” Chimi countered as the soldiers now reformed pounded mortar fire at the retreating Shadow warriors

“A ganger who fights and runs away….” Marq parodied the old Corellian axiom, earning a punch in the arm from Kylista

“Curious,” Qaman'Xa’s tinny translated voice stated as zhe joined the banter.

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 45 — Oblivion Gray — Immovable Object — Part 3

Repulsion

By accident or design the Syncretia had been built upon a nexus of natural aether flows through the very fabric of Galtea.

Dozens of building with designs as varied as the spiritual, religious and sentientist beliefs and philosophies that inspired them were built in three concentric rings separated by gardens and walkways linked by artificial streams that sloped down to the center of the circle of building where stood the Syncretia Sanctura, a vast rounded domed building of a khaki marble, its height enhanced by its reflection in the pooled miniature moat about it, the water always moving by underground pipes to feed back to the outer rings and flow back in an eternal cycle of renewal.

If there was a meaning to this it was lost on the four Aethans that trampled the granite pavers underfoot, each step of their blackstone boots cracking the polished stone.

By accident - or design - the Syncretia had been spared any major damage during the war, both sides seeming to respect the array of sacred buildings as a sanctuary, it had even survived - by divine intervention or dumb luck - the devastation of the Promenade district its souther edge bordered.

There were no guards, indeed the whole Syncretia was deserted apart from a handful of meek monks and cowering priests in the various outer buildings of their faiths.  

The Syncretia was a physical manifestation of the harmony amidst diversity of the Vhal’Dan, bringing together all traditions in one place, linked by the artificial streams, encouraging communication and understanding toward developing the syncretism for which it was named.

Despite her gene crafted savant-like mind, the entirety of the nature of the Syncretia's purpose remained beyond Karintha’s comprehension, no matter how much she re-read the briefings and office purpose statements of the precinct. As though such multi-faith and multicultural harmony and the attempt to promote such was so antithetical to her neurology she was incapable of grasping it.  

With a front kick Melron broke down the Northern circular portal into the Syncretia Sanctura revealing the vast mosaic lined interior, a large wide open space adorned with images of every species imaginable linked together, discussing, debating, affirming their similarities and exploring their differences as a boon rather than a barrier.

Along the walls were shelves full of well read texts from all the represented faiths and more besides - The Book of the Way, Meditations of Marka Ragnos, Hymns of Ashla, Odjina’s Treatise Confirming the Maker.

Yona, unable to resist her insatiable curiosity, ran her armoured fingertips over them.
“So many delusions…” Yorna sighed sorry for the perplexed Outsiders.

Jenaea, far less subtle, simply grabbed the shelf and ripped it from its wall bolts  in a single swift motion then pumped three Hades shots to set them alight.

The clean uniformity of Aethan monoculture was the only reality they could understand, at best they acknowledged other species ought to - like them - remain a single unified species with a singular set of cultural practices and values.  Notions of multi species faith, integration and diversity of purpose and opinion were perplexing at best, anathema at worst.

Karintha’s snide smile broadened as she walked to the centre of the Sanctura, opening her helmet filter she sniffed the air, traces of sweat and respiration form when dozens of civilians had sheltered hee and come to ‘pray’ after the promenade incident and as the war intensified still strong.

Her People had set even those determined to remain to flee, Valens strategy flawless as was to be expected from their masterful race, yet it was her, the Matriarch that held true control  - Ari’s family was an excuse, Valens command mere delegation for the suppression of the Vhal’Dan and punishment of Anson D’Aklon.  

The foolish Ovarug’s incessant attempts to comprehend Valens strategy and goals would never succeed because he was unaware that Karintha controlled the People and this war in ways far more subtle than a non Aethan could comprehend.

And here in the epitome of the Vhal’Dan’s multicultural folly she would enact the final hidden blow against them

Karintha had carefully studied how Lykana had drawn her power from Dathomir itself, how she had moulded the Ichor that flowed through that world to her will, intensifying her power at all points by controlling and moulding nexi such as this.

From the very start of their offensive Karintha had the People seek such such nexi on Galtea and twist the natural flows of ‘Force’ energy to a more ‘natural’ form that was easier for the People to use, and - for the majority of the more intellectual Vhal’Dan, there were always some exceptions in such a diverse group she had to begrudgingly acknowledge - more difficult to call upon.

Eighteen Nexi in and around Vhal’Udhav had been turned, but this place beneath the Syncretia Sanctura was the focal point whose change would amplify the impact and spread it across the whole planet.

Undefended and considered ‘holy ground’ by both sides they had left this till last to ensure the Vhal’Dan sages didn’t detect the full impact until it was too late to change, once set loose across the planet fully it would take months to revert assuming - Karntha sneered - the Vhal’Dan Sages even had the skills to do so.

Melron strode to the very centre of the Santura , spun out his sword and drove the ultradense blade into the comparatively soft onyx central circle, the impact shockwave cracking the mosaics all around and echoing through the dome above.

Yorna idly wove defensive runes and hexes about the Santura - just in case - while Karintha drew out and began to tune the hand sized Orb to the aether flows about them, it would enter seamlessly as part of the Galtean natural flow then curve the streams to her desires.

Jenaea suddenly snapped to attention transmitting a blinding yellow ‘light’ in their spatial awareness mere moments before the explosives detonated.

Marble and the ferrocrete beneath blasted inward with dull thumps showering them with dust and debris that was quickly mingled with laser lances.

Quickly in defensive stances expecting a charge, Primus Silver Knight Kall-jeq "Kalli" Masbes quickly tapped more keys on her wrist mounted controller, a spray of micro detonators barrel larger than a Ryza-dumpling shot from her shoulder mounted cannons, the flechette like weapons spraying dozens of micro explosives through the gap sheh created and onto the enemy as her Secundus and Tertius, far more able in close combat than she, advanced.

The Nautolan leader of Triad Forn regretted having to turn her demolition expertise upon the Sanctura - home to some of her fondest memories discussing the similarities between the Ocean Spirit of Glee Anslem and the Maker  - but was firm in her conviction that the moment those shadows had stepped inside it was doomed, better its annihilation serve the Vhal’Dan than the enemy.

Marble dust was turned to glass by arm mounted lasers as the full Tribus circled in, more and more pieces of the Sanctura blasted inwards, all careful not to bring the building down just yet.

Black arrows of a hideous dense substances and red hellfire maser shots came back through the dust, Maenowan Agemean Villados and Silver Knight Ostooloruu Wuurich of Triads Qek and Herf deftly avoided the shots -had rushed from other engagements once Kalli sighted the Shadows at the Syncretia - Triad Forn having staked it out on Qaman-Xa’s hunch - the Aing-tii was rarely wrong.

What the Shadows were doing and why, well that was probably a bit past her - by her own admission Kalli had a below average Force connection - for the Triarch though this was a dividend of diversity - focused on demolitions and sheer bloody determination she balanced out the overreliance on the Force that could creep in amongst the Knights.

Irritation built as more of the dome came down on their heads, Karintha snapped her hands in wicked glowing symbols, chunks of marble with fierce Malacia curses intoned hurled.

The Cataprhacts hunched as the marble shattered on their pauldrons or Beskar breakers echoing hisses, as many colours as there were species among the Tribus, Villados briefly touching the ground to draw on her psychometric skills combined with her Secundus Eirtaé Vor-Rue -a female Yashuvhi tribal-mystic - and Tertius Koawan Alulat Kabdhilinan - a Miraluka with that species attendant Vision - to truly realise the scope of what the Shadows intended here.

The understanding flowed in the battle meld to ‘Midge’ as Ostooloruu Wuurich was nicknamed and Kalli their focus now getting the Shadows away from the Force Nexus.

Easier said than done as Jenaea preternatural danger sense - uncanny even for People - kept all four Aethans from taking any ranged damage and avoiding pieces of the collapsing building.

Yorna’s fire forced the Cataphracts to slow, the teleporting arrows could change course mid-air and sought gaps in their armour, Jenaea’s rifle unnervingly accurate through the dust haze in hitting the same spots on Triad shins and upper arm plates keeping the dover catalyst flowing even as the Force Callous of the Legacy armour kept Karintha’s Malacia and Illusion attacks little more than irritants -for the moment.

Melron furiously kept digging to place the Orb, if they could shift the Aether the war would turn  overwhelmingly in their favour - a goal Triad Qek had the prescient abilities to sense, Triad Herf had the raw strength to act as living shields, and Triad Forn had the implacable determination to charge in the face of enemy fire to stop.

Under Qeks kinetite barriers and behind Midge’s Triad, Kalli rushed forward with flechette shoulder cannons blazing as her Beskar Breaker slashed through an arrow fired at her face.

Maser fire followed, a blast of Force energy that seamlessly melded Lighting with Fire, Midge leapt in front of Kalli enduring the enormity of Karintha’s hideous powers that overwhelmed even his ancient armour force callous singing the wookies fur.

Kalli pressed on, Melron, waist deep in the ground now forced to deal with the mad Nautolan rushing at him, hurling three grenades ahead of her and detonating a final string of charges on the Sanctura to all but collapse it.

The female Nautolan struck an old aethan man as tough as she was relentless, unceasing blows made up for her marginal disadvantage in skill  and sheer tenacity keept Melron from getting out of the hole.

Changing tactics Yorna clapped her bow to her back and drew on the aether, her talent was for drawing deeper, wider and quicker than any but Milaea.

 Koawan Eirtaé Vor-Rue, mind always half walking the metaphysical plains, felt the deep churning in the Force, reacted by and pulling the energies of the entire Tribus to put an otherworldly choke hold on the artery of energy Yorna feed herself with.

It came at the worst possible moment, limiting Yorna’s power draw by half as Melron was caught in ferocious combat with Kalli, Karintha’s lighting and flame attacks found no purchase against the Cataphract armour, and Jenaea even with her sharp danger sense was hard pressed to avoid the constant barrage of arm mounted laser fire and micro missiles.

Primus Villados could sense the cost to her Secundus to limit the Shadows incredible power - Eritaea had to hunker down stone still, covered by Alulat.  

Karitnha sniffed weakness and danced to avoid Triad Herf engaging in melee.  Villados quick as the  thunderbird qukuuf of her Kiffar ancestry upon her face to intercept. Karinthas twin short blades bleeding blue aether fire slamming into the crackling zweihander, even as Yorna drew the intense energy she could moulding it to a suppressive field that would lock the cataphracts legs to ground and slow time itself around them.

Even as she boiled with sweat in her armour Ertiae surprised the Aethan with a Mental Spike.  Yorna might have laughed at how pathetically weak it was, lacking in the necessary focus or intensity to do any damage - but the timing was again impeccable in upsetting her own attack.

Instead of rendering Triad Herf and Forn immobile they were merely slowed to a quarter of their normal speed.  

Villados was completely unaffected, her famed Beskar Breaker - Balmung working as fast as the twin short Swords Karintha brought against them, each clash sending showers of sparks and leaving both women unsteady on their feet from the kinetic whiplash of each parry.

The grizzled Midge pressed on through the semi-stasis field, Legacy armour slowly resisting the curse Yorna struggled to maintain, and the concentrated fire of the Cataphracts denied Jenaea a chance to take advantage of their slow movement.

The Aethans found an enemy for whom a numerical advantage was sufficient to balance if not outweigh their demi-god like prowess, indeed Kalli and Villados were a match for Melron and Karintha with their Triads supporting them.

Yorna was still loose, her mind able to divide between her Aether attack and physical movement she rushed the wookie - with each Triad stuck in melee Jenaea would be free to skirt the edges and whittle the Cataphracts down.

But the hum of repulsors from over the din of battle signalled the arrival of Triads Besh and Esk, and the inevitable defeat of the Aethans should they try and stand their ground.

Yorna skidded just short of reaching Midge’s grasp as he shook off the last of the stasis field like snow on his thick fur - six more Cataphracts was too many.

Racing to her aunt, Alulat spun to intercept Yorna, Triad Qek finding the gap between two Aethans was a deadly  a thread of energy between the Aunt and Niece widened and burst with a flare of raw electricity that forced Eritae and Villados to retreat backward Beskar Breakers taking the brunt of the electricity.

Jenaea concentrated all efforts on relieving Melron, firing at Forn’s rear even as she dodged Herfs attempt to close with her.  Midge just managed to reach the Aethan woman, his vast zweihander quicker than would be expected for his size forcing her to roll and scuttle on the ground.

Villados and Kalli pressed again trying to keep their targets locked up from escaping, but for Qek and Forn two Aethans in melee range were just too much. sweeping charges by Yorna and Jenaea let  Karintha and Melron break out of their entrapment, quick teleport shunts putting them three meters away.

The cataphracts switched to ranged weapons never breaking their stride with the smooth motions mastered over countless years of hard training.  They couldn’t imagine just how much energy that teleport shunt had cost the Aethans, the ability as costly as it was effective.

Low and dexterous the Aethans moved through the rubble, snapping back shots where they could.  Eritae sensed and Alulat saw just how ravaged the Shadow Warriors Force stamina was, a single thought into the battle meld had Forn and Herf reach out with telekinetic grips as strong as they could to try and slow them, their Triads hurling shoto’s to try and cut them off at the knees.

Melron stumbled, Jenaea took a shoto to the lower leg, three laser blasts struck Karintha square the back, and Kalli and Villados reached Yorna as he tried to pull her comrades up.

Balmung sung through the air as time slowed, Yorna twisting so only her left shoulder pauldron was cleaved in two rather than her head, but the Kiffar had underestimated Aethan reflex speed without the Force, Yorna’s dagger flew from its sheath by instinct and plunged into Villados chest plate, deep enough to just cut into her breast.

Kallis' blow at Yorna cut straight into her side, orange heat boiling off the blackstone as Midge got within striking distance.  Karintha leapt into the Nautolan, her dese bones and muscles giving weight enough to unsteady the Cataphract as Melron pushed Yorna down to fire his hades rifle point blank into Villados.

The Primus saved by her Miraluka Tertirus foresight that snapped her head to the side just in time - but the maser shots struck Midge’s side just behind her instead.

Desperate Yorna grabbed Jenaea’s free hand- the other firing pistol shots at any weakness her shatterpoint gaze could pick in the growing number of Cataphracts armour as Triad Besh joined the fray Ya’Quls Gauss rifle seeking torso’s to puncture.

Karintha leapt back off Kalli to take Yorna’s last free hand  - the unity of the three Aethan women not just adding but doubling what Aether capacity they had left temporarily.

Barely had Kalli sat up when a wave of raw kinetic energy bashed her back to the ground, Villados near flew off the ground, Midge fared better hunched, their Triads Kinetic shields failing as a Force tornado was whipped up hurling chunks of the ruined Syncretia at them with blue aether fire tails.

With a bitter roar Kalli charged straight into the eye of the storm determined to get at the enemy, psychologically unable to let up even as large tiles that once formed mosaics hammered her and set small aether flames coursing over her armour.

Just as the Aethans thought to retreat off under a Veil of Mist covered by the Tornado the Nautolan burst from it, sparks coming from breaches in her power armour.

Relentless to the point of irrationality the Primus of Triad Forn rushed the four Aethans while her comrades pushed through to join her.

The lone Cataphract was hardly a threat, but the magnetically accelerated round from Ya’Quls gauss rifle that zipped past Karintha’s head was more than enough to deter her from expending what little energy they had compacting the Nautolan into a ball.

Melron spun to give the three women a monets, space, his balde once more grinding against Kalli’s zweihander in heavy determined strokes before a whirls wind of energy rose up between them.

Kalli braced for another knockback - instead her opponent flew meters into the air - the Aethans hurling themselves with the Force over buildings at breakneck speed to escape.

Kalli huffed as her saber switched off, the others joining her.  

A heavy hand clamped on her chipped shoulder as the Dover Catalyst flowed into the gaps.

“They won’t get away from you again,” the ‘blind’ Miraluka Alulat encouraged

“I’ve seen it,”

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 45 — Oblivion Gray — Immovable Object — Part 4

Reclamation

They were in the very bowels of the  Vhal’Udhav.

The tunnels were barely large enough to fit them in their full armour, finding a wide intersection a relief of free movement.

While the Shadow Warriors were the most prominent face of the False Kage’s twisted re-enforcements, the creatures that infested the the vast underground infrastructure network of Vhal’Udhav, water filtration, nurti-algal vats, oxygen scrubbers, and power relays were an equally vicious menace.

Primus Silver Knight Dexxel Behrn’s, Primus of Triad Leth had been hunting them for weeks.  Though they numbered no more than fifty, the vicious monsters had slain hundreds of engineering staff and regular soldiers - the Kage had called for the Cataphracts.

Pink eyes took in a modified spectral interpretation of the pitch black around him, Behrns goggles converted every frequency of the electromagnetic spectrum into a form of visible light he had spent years learning how to ‘read’  - it was the only way to detect some of these creatures that had strategically torn out every lumen in this sector.

“Where are you damn pasty face bantha frellers…” he hissed as his eyes swept over the low level radiation converted by the Multi-Spectral Goggles to a kind of hazy orange.

Secundus Tenobe, sniggered never failing to be amused by the irony of the Albino Primus aesthetic disgust for the pallid creatures they hunted.

The Mirialan had downed nearly twelve himself - two of the kills were disputed given the cross fire - their filthy long bladed fingers and wiry limbs reminded him of the Wendigo of ancient Mirlian myth.  They strongly suspected they were close to eradicating them, they were becoming harder to find, and huddling more closely, taking less risks.

A ghostly shadow passed their sensors a flare of dull pin against the orange interpretation of low level gamma radiation.

“Shavit all over my shoes...it's the Spikers,” Behrn complained recognising the signature.

Their arm mounted lasers fully charged they rounded the corner emblazoned with a luminescent 55-T way marker primed to fire.

A figure of nightmare stared back at them.

There was no name for these Things that till now had been barely rumours, they were simply classed as the ‘Spiked Warriors’ or Spikers to distinguish them from the Shadow Warriors - the nature of the relationship between the two had left the best of the True Kages analysts stumped.

Grotesque in its glistening shell like armour a ruddy brown red, jagged spiked horns grew at random from every piece of the crab like outfit at angles that made Silver Knight Dexxel Behrn, Primus of Triad Leth wonder how they even walked without impaling themselves.

On three of those horns were the dessicated faces hanging off shattered skulls of Knights the creature had slain with its coiling spertenine weapon.

A face without a nose or lips and teeth filed into blades leered at him from pinprick stars in  overly sunken eye sockets.

With a raping hiss it yelled

“JEEEDAIIIIIi”

Incensed at the dishonour afforded to his fellow knights Behrn yelled back
“FRELL YOU!”

His beskar breaked snap hissed on with a shattering white that mirrored his albino skin and breathed luminance to the corridor, filling it with ever more wavelengths of light his Multi-Spectral goggles could render into forms comprehensible to his visual cortex.

He didn’t know what these things were, how they got here, where they came from.  Only that they needed to die.

Yhashk, the Extolled Yuuzhan Vong, Servant of the Avatars whose Aphistaff had tasted the blood of a dozen Jedi and now sought this Large ones would have concurred. 

He was a warrior, all he desired was to feel the heat of battle and take skulls to lay at the Avatar of Yun-Yammka’s feet, and what a skull this one must have beneath the hateful technological shell.

He had been liberated from the monotony of training on the distant Main Fleet, the inevitably of dying never seeing a true world of facing a real enemy, the orders of the cautious Prefects.  Now he travelled worlds by the dozen testing himself against deadly opponents he could never have imagined - for this he would worship the Avatars through the slaughter he offered them.

Screams on both sides slammed against each other moments before the Beskar breaker and amphistaff clashed, lasers and thud bugs filling the narrow gaps between them and the industrial wall.

Pipes were smashed open venting cryo-gases, wires melted by laser heat, thud bugs smashed through thin render to the raw ferrocrete - it was nothing compared to the damage the combatants were doing to each other.

The Spikers were immune to all Force powers, it was nigh impossible to even get a telekinetic grip on them, the Triad had to fight with blunt brute strength, trusting in their armour to take the cuts from the snake like living weapons and boil off the venom they spat, the Dover catalyst of the whole Triad reduced by a quarter within moments as the Spikers inconceivable ability to change their weapons from rigid to writhing in an instant.

The Zweihanders were no less potent, the Voduun crab armour was able to take two to three hits from a normal lightsaber -the Cataphracts overpowered enormous blades broke the shell and killed the living crab beneath with a single hit.

Three of his warriors were slaughtered like Yoorbu Worms in moments, Yhashk did not fear, the biots so recently implanted in the secret ceremony would transmit their Essence via villip to the Paradise World upon which the Avatars resided.  They would rise and fight again!

Rolling under Behrns Zweihander, and then having to leap to avoid the follow up arm-laser beam he palmed the small leathery sac the Avatar of Yun’Shuno had given him and squeezed, a sticky thick mix of Gobril and Gormin blood oozed out and he splashed it over the Cataphract before him.

Behrn picked up the vivid red gamma radiation signature of the fluid, pulling back fearing some kind of acid - it was highly radioactive, but appeared inert on his armour.

Its purpose was to summon.  The last Volurk predators of Aethas released into the underwarrens quickly sniffed their native prey’s blood and flooded in on their thin fast limbs at the Triads Rear,

Tertius Nuuron, pivoted to catch them first, blasting chunks of the cramped walls away as they leapt and twisted.

Yhahsk renewed his attack, the Triad now stuck between five Extolled and a dozen volurks.

“YOU BANTHA DREN FRELLING, MYVONX LICKING BASTARDS!” Behrn yelled, doubling his intensity all his Force energies poured into extra strength and speed in the absence of a telekinetic target.

About to move his foot to advance he found it stuck, the blorash jelly binding him to the ground with a sticky wet gurgle as Yhahsk lipless face stretched in what should be a grin but appeared to Behrn a frenzied twitch.

The Volurks nails and claws largely bounced off the plasteel, but the feral creatures learned quickly to seek out the joints, a single lucky blow, one in a thousand of nails dripping with poison that could make an Aethan seriously ill was all that was needed - and they were raining blows by the dozen per second, Tenobe switching round as best he could to support Nuuron as the Nautolon managed to bisect another Volurk.

Yhahsk needed only wear them down, Behrns frustration rising as his expletives increased shouted behind the mechanical helm as Zweihander puttered against three amphistaffs, each of the three Extolled chomping at the bit to obtain the prize of a Cataprhact skull to lay at the Avatars feet.

Numbers were beginning to wear them down, Dover catalyst reserves depleted and the Volruks, while down to half their number were getting clever to the Cataphracts tricks.

Blade slicing another Volruk arm off as his fist punched and other off Nuuron,  Tenobe’s goggles filled with yellow rays of laser radiation signals.

Pounding boots echoed down the hall and the snap hiss of zweihanders activating bounced off the walls.

Nurhl Baz-Rhadde, Triarch of the Cataphracts had arrived.

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 45 — Oblivion Gray — Immovable Object — Part 5

Reclamation

The enormous Cathar, Primus of Triad Aurek strode forward as his Secundus and Tertius blasted the Volurks assailing Triad Leth to so many chunks of meat relieving them in an instant, diving his own thoughts into the Battle meld the Triad pulled back, except for the stuck Behrn who fought on.

Barging past Nurhl’s blade severed an Extolled straight down the middle as he relieved the Primus, his armours copper sheen glistening in the saber glow, standing almost a head above the already huge Behrn the Extolled bellowed for an even greater trophy to be won.

Durandal blade of his ancestors, earned by toil in his hand Nurhl launched into the abominations with a kinetic wave to shudder the air and wrong foot them, then fell on them roaring like the Lion that was carved into his chest piece.

Triad Leth was quickly working to incinerate the blorash jelly pinning their Primus as Nurhl battered the Extolled, their writhing serpentine weapons sparked against the plasteel of his outer amrour, took grooves from the crab shell and flesh from the arms and chests of those he caught.

Behind him the rest of Triad Aurek

Any sane entity would’ve baulked and fled at the ferocity of the enormous Cathar Cataphract, for the mad zealot Extolled it added fuel to their bloodlust flames.

Thud-Bugs, coufees, blorash, Vinewhips, Plaerin Darts, Amphistaff venom, all this was seared to ashes on Durandal’s glowering yellow blade as Nurhl expertly deflected the stream of attacks with dexterity that defied the bulk of his plate, in between ramming home elbows and knees into the Vong who embraced the crippling pain as a sacred balm.

Only the Cataprhacts, the Triarch knew, could fight such an enemy of such rank insanity and utter perversity who loved Death in battle more than life in peace.

Pushing them back to a four corner intersection, shattered lights and a half consumed corpse on the ground Nurhl crushed the last Vong in his bare hands, rending the head from the neck with an upward twist.

He knew that was not the last, head never ceasing motion as he took in the vast array of data coming in through the suits sensory suites, his muzzle sniffing intently as his fangs were bared beneath the bronze polished helm.

“Where there are Spikers there’s a Shadow….” Berhn hissed his goggles seeking any possible spike of colour from the dull brown background radiation and pastel blue radio frequencies.

He had barely finished the last syllable when shadowed blades struck.

The Cloak of Shadow was cast off as the Twins directed all their Aetheric energy into their Phase Blades temporarily turning the Bloodstone weapons to pure Aether energy as they sprang from the shadowed hollows between the ceiling and the vast overhead pipes and conduits.

Secundus Hevrin Mal-Tagge and Tertius Olan of Triad Aurek moved in slow motion to Evaea and Eyvns sight as they drove the incorporeal weapons through their necks, the out of reality weapons by passing the ablative gorgets completely. 

The Force Callous of the Ancient armour slowed the penetration and dulled the Phase blades, giving the two elite warriors time to fire and stab at the Aethans, but the damage was dealt and as the Twins leapt to the walls as if gravity were an irrelevance to them, the blades left in the pairs necks reverted to their normal physical form, displacing meat and metal even as their sharpened Aether edges cut the Cataphracts very souls.

Both buckled as they felt themselves painfully exposed to the whole of the Force, their energies gushing out into the infinite sea of the Cosmic Force from the wounds the phase blades had dealt as their necks exploded in pain with the sudden intrusion of the bloodstone that reintegrated with their flesh.

Nurhl spun and Behrn fired at the now revealed assassins who darted toward the Triarch - the Aethan Assassins primary target - who without his Secundus and Tertius would be that much more vulnerable.

To their credit and Nurhls pride Hevrin and Olan both managed to raise their Zewihanders and advanced a few steps, swinging at the Twins and forcing them to dodge, buying Nurhl precious time to spin around in the tight confines and raise his own guard. 

Evyn hurled back a magma mine that clamped onto Olan’s fingers gripped round the zweihander, an instant later it heated to 400 degrees celsius then rose 30 more each half second searing her fingers into the hilt, combined with the Soul and neck wound it was too much. 

Evaea’s poisoned darts bounced off Hevrins armour, the Cathar Secundus managed to get another slash in as the bloodstone merged into his neck and bleeding out the Force slowly killed him, she ducked under and drove her poisoned dagger as deep as she could between groin and thigh plates, the toxins capable of killing an Aethan overwhelming what resistance was left in the Cathars body. 

Nurhl felt the dire ricochet of death through the now dead Battlemeld, willing without words the ancient Cathar injunction of  Malja watan to Hevrin, and with no less solemnity praying the Deep Old Ones of Yinchorre accepted Olan though he died far from the Veldt.

If the assassins thought the deaths of his Triad would in any way slow him, they were mistaken.

The Triarch blitzed forward Zweihander held in one hand, Gatling laser blaring on the other as he unleashed upon the Twins even as they moved from their deadly finishing moves.  Pounding shots blasted into Evaea’ side as she sprung away, the Zweihander smashed into Evyns shoulder as he turned.

Like the black-purple silent mists of Dypseth the Anzat trained pair tried to envelop the lone Triarch, trusting in their decades honed skills to eliminate the last of Triad Aurek. 

Their swords, darts and mines were hurled with incredible precision, the Force subsuming the weapons to conceal their origin, path or destination on the towering body.

Nurhl Baz-Rhadde was not so easily overcome, bashing aside with kinetic counter blasts and his zweihander the majority, his armours ablative plasma clouds absorbing the rest.

In the cramped tunnel he used his bulk as a weapon, shouldering and dominating the space to limit their movement as his weapons furiously rent through the wall, floor and ceiling carving hissing molten trenches.

Behrn now recovered surged forward to help but soon realised he would only get in the way.

Quick and inhumanly strong as the Twins were, they were hard pressed by the Triarch as the entire corridor was laid to waste around them as their magma mines and darts were lodged ineffectually into the walls eating into Galteas mantle, Hexes and precision lightning attacks of little use against the Triarchs bronzed armour, amongst the most seasoned of all the Catapahracts legacy it had rebuffed the Sting of Sith and Darksider lighting and Magick so many times since Ruusan Nurhl barely needed to make an effort in his Force defences, leaving him free to pour all his energy into speed to match the lithe creatures.

His Beskar breaker never stopping as his feet twisted quicker than they imagined he could in such heavy plate he finally bore down on Evyn, catching the young Aethan in the thigh - Evaea tried to round behind him, as she passed his right shoulder Nurhl slammed himself telekinetically from the left, making his own heavy body a battering ram that crushed her between him and the wall as he stomped on her brothers leg and crashed his blade down against Evyn’s trembling sword.

The Cathar quickly relented the grip knowing the pinned assassin would use proximity to try and get at his armour joints, pivoting quickly to grind her deeper into the wall and then headbutt her with the full force of his ancient helm.

Had she been human she would’ve suffered fatal internal injuries and broken her sternum and every rib, the genetic engineering of the Technocracy rendered the injuries only crippling as the Triarch pumped round after round of Gattling Laser into the scrambling Evyn - the Oblivion armour held but was becoming brittle and flaking under the repeated barrage.

Another shouldering ram of Evaea and Durandal once more swung into Evyn, this time knocking his sword from his hand, the blade itself clattering broken to the floor.  Behrn with cautious speed made ready to grab the would be assassin.

With ice reflexes Nurhls torso twisted unnaturally as a Blackstone blade cleaved off half the mane of the Lion engraved upon his chest - the ruin of the decoration a small price to pay for saving him from being skewered completely.

Something as heavy and as hard as the Triarch slammed him forward, Evyn rolling just in time to avoid being crushed as Nurhl landed heavily.

<Go> Jarys hissed, brooking no argument as the Cathar Cataphract snarled with frustration at the interloper.

The Twins quickly scurried past the man who had seemingly so long ago also beaten them down on Dypseth.

Trapped behind his Triarch in the claustrophobic corridor Behrn couldn’t see what was happening clearly, but his Multi-Specs caught the outline of an appreciably larger figure than the two assassins.

As soon as he could move, Nurhl was Charging, Durandal hissing with blood lust that poured from the Cathars' very soul.

In advance of the two champions, shockwaves of kinetic Force waves smashed against each other, blowing out what little remains of the pipes, wires and walls to either side.  In the wake of the shockwave Blackstone met Beskar-Breaker in a pulse inducing clash that sent sparks flying briefly lighting Behrns Multispecs painfully bright.

Jarys was grudgingly impressed that Nurhl was as fast as him - Nurhl equally respected the Shadow Warriors physical strength matched his unaided by the Force or Power Armour - Nurhls was supplemented by both.

Knights and Silvers by the dozen would’ve been severed or blasted dozens of meters by the incredible momentum any one blow in the furious duel delivered, the impact of which ran up through the combatants backs and into their knees causing them to tremble. 

Jarys hadn’t fought an enemy like this since the Jedi High Sentinel Yshrrk, Nurhl since he trained with Soban before his genetic condition all but ended his friends marital career.

Behrn watched in rapt awe at the glimpses he caught from behind his Triarch still seeking to find a way to assist yet somehow stilled by the pure idyll of such a duel.

Nurhl pressed as hard as he could, drawing on the fresh still hardly comprehend of the loss of his Triad to fuel his blows and keep the Force as his bulwark to finally bring a Shadow Warrior down, unrelenting as the Immoveable Troika, merciless as his Ancestor Saril Baz Rhadde with Durandal

Jarys could see the tide was against him, the Triarch was peaking in his fury, and behind him a full - if injured - Triad.  Jarys might be able to take down the Triarch, but the damage inflicted in return would be so vast Triad Leth would finish him without effort.

Pushing out of another furious saber lock the Aethan First Warrior sped all four of his implosion grenades along the ground, Nurhl pushed back telekinetically but his divided Force strength was enough only to hold them hovering in the air.

With a grunting effort Jarys teleported one just behind the Cataphract - any closer and the Force Calloused armour would interfere - then released the switches.

Trapped between the explosives Nurhl had to break his attack and bundle himself as small as possible, covering himself in a kinetic Force shield as the implosion grenades twisted air, metal and space itself around him.

Behrn turned side on to limit his exposure to the blast, Triad Leth offering what power it could to bolster the Triachs defences as the Multi-specs showed a vicious inward twist of all radiation in the grenades radius, swapping their wavelengths to the inverse then compacting them so tightly they bound to near physical form.

With a snarl Nurhl leapt as the last mass distorting waves dissipated - but his enemy Besital was nowhere to be seen.

“Next time…” the Lion of the Vhal’Dan growled.

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 45 — Oblivion Gray — Immovable Object — Part 6

This occurs in the hours after Schims the Vhal’Dan Civil War Chapter 22.  http://www.saberforum.com/index.php?topic=38018.msg696707#msg696707

<<<<>>>>

Resolution

Heavy though his boots were Nurhl footsteps were barely audible in the hallowed halls deep within the seculsiam of Istic Fortress. 

Built atop a rocky Mesa on the Nimati Plains of Galtea far west of Vhal’Udhav where a large area of low depth metamorphic rock made agriculture and construction unviable, the Fortress was the center of Camp Rhadde, the Cataphracts vast base and training complex.

The Seclusiam were chambers, accessible only by the Initiated Cataphracts and a handful of carefully vetted civilian staff for essential maintenance and like. The whole fortress was a labyrinthine web of corridors and dead ended charnel halls, choke points and columns carved in the form of ancient Cataphracts that were mere fronts for deadly plasma lance traps.

The paths were never quite the same, automated servo’s changed the internal layout of walls and paths every two days in peace time - every four hours in war.

Even so, Nurhl could walk these paths in response to his summons to the Memorial Chamber in his sleep.  This place, the Cataphract Order, was in his blood.  The descendant of the mighty Saril Baz Rhadde, through his blood, pain and tears Nurhl had earned - Not inherited - his ancestors armour and palace as Triarch.

On his hip was Durandal, the zweihander that had consumed Sith Blood on Ruusan, every plate was comprised of more than half of the original metals and polymers that his ancestor had worn, upgraded and reshaped over the centuries between them in response to damage and advances in technology.

He passed a triptych of windows that looked across the vast camp outside - and served as sniper points in the event of attack - spying the shimmer domes of three of the six vast 2 kilometer diameter Training Biospheres - each of the six that surrounded Istic were wonders of micro-geoengineering, replicating the temperature, gravity, pressure and natural features of different battlefields- one lush as the deep forest of Yavin, one cold as Hoth, mountainous as Ilum, another blazing as Mustafar, his favoured - Dome 4 was a micro recreation of Vhal’Udhav itself.

Between Istic Fortress and the Domes were numerous EMP Moats, Ground to Space Weapons platforms masked within barracks and support structures, a vast network of tunnels and trenches making it arguably the most heavily fortified location on Galtea, and as such it had been studiously avoided by the false Kage and his Shadow abominations.

Striding through the Gilded Doors of the Honoured, 4 meter high double doors of silver with active-Mercury reliefs that changed shape every few minutes to show one of over three dozen scenes of Cataphract battles past Nurhl was surprised by the first the of the three beings awaiting him, saddened but happy to see the second, and utterly shocked at the third.

They stood on the rounded mosaics of the Memorial hall, around them statues of the Triarchs in Kortosis and obsidian, a number of empty plinths awaited Nurhl himself and future Triarchs.  At the Far end of the circular room, Primus Inter Pares, was Saril himself, in kortosis carved the very zweihander and armour Nurhl now wore.

Slamming his fist on the snarling Lion of air brushed Bronze that was his Chest plate Nurhl bowed his head to the Kage - the True and only Kage - Anson D’Aklon, his friend, and saviour.

As much younger men, during the Bfpasshi uprising, Anson had saved the Cathars life. Broken and beaten by a horde of cultists in the days before he joined the Cataphracts, Anson had come to the rescue of Nurhl, barely a Tediowan at the time, cutting down the throng of cultists to pry him bleeding, fur scorched by tasers, from the ground.

Even at that young age Anson D’Aklon had cut an indomitable figure, he took the Cultists apart from the rear, lopping them off at the knees, Force pushes like hammers blasting them off of Nurhl.

Renewed the Cathar had joined him scattering the mad men with their kohl painted eyes and blood red sashes over wiry bodies drained of physical sustenance by ritual fasting but strengthened by the nefarious powers they courted.

Ever since that day Nurhl had felt an obligation, perhaps not to the level of a life debt as wookies incurred, but a deep honour that only grew as the pair came to know each other better over the years.  Whilst their paths had diverged as Anson climbed the political ladder and Nurhl joined the Catpahracts they had maintained a connection and exalted in the others success.

When Arkady Cyne had been murdered by Kazic’s agents - of this Nurhl was certain despite false rumours of complicity of Ansons supporters - Nurhl knew he could never accept another Kage to lead the Vhal’Dan from the terror that had overtaken the Mak’tor and Jedi in recent years - with the honoured Odjina and…orthodox Kimars...respective assassinations.  Ovarugs incessant squabbling and recalcitrance only further entrenched Nurhl and the Cataphracts to stay with the True Kage.

“Kage, We are honoured by your presence,” he nodded with respect as far as his gorget would allow.

The Kage returned his nod, the familiar sight of the golden eyed Cathar, sporting tinges of grey amidst his deep copper brown fur was always welcome, a walking symbol of the strength and vitality of the Order. 

To Nurhls eyes Anson, fully armoured apart from his head, helmet under the crook of his elbow, looked harried, eyes dark as if he had not slept for days, undoubtedly the physical toll of the reverses they had suffered against the Shadow warriors.

Beside the Kage, in a hovering Med-chair was Emeritus  Master Gray Vilhynn Soban, once Primus of Triad Besh, Nurhls right hand for nearly fifteen years, age had not been kind to the Vhal male, a condition of muscular hypertrophy that had made Soban far larger and stronger than his typically lithe species, and enabled him to join the ranks of the Cataphracts was now crippling him in terrible pain as the weight of his overly large muscles ground his bones and pinched his nerves. 

Determined to serve, Soban had taken the role of mentor to younger Cataphracts when he could no longer actively fight, and was now a father figure to half and brother to the rest of the Cataphracts, his humility, patience and wisdom without peer in their order.

Nurhl nodded with a smile to his old companion, Soban returned it, but a half grimace from the endless pain creased the Vhals dusky brown features, his once full thick black-gray hair ever thinner. Nurhl winced internally for his honoured brother in arms.

But the one who truly shocked Nurhl stood behind them all.

Nearly three and a half meters tall, encased in a brutal black matt plate was a Cataphract Nurhl only recognised from her force aura - her face concealed behind a blank face plate.

The Hamask Ksorallyne Apus.  Sora to her few friends, the Lasat woman, member of the sub order of Hamasks - Cataphracts unsuited by more, aggressive, disposition, for a Triad, last Nurhl had heard she was at death's door following the Promenade incident that had left her Teidowan dead and her body all but cinders.

To see her standing now defied his belief.

“The Honour is mine my friend,” Anson gestured to him to join the group.
“Forgive my intrusion of the Seclusiam, but there is little time, events are reaching their climax, and we needed to speak without delay. Your engagements against  the Anzats’s animals have progressed well I hear Nurhl,”

“No apology is necessary Kage, the war takes precedence, and yes they have, every Triad had been studying the footage and briefings in between missions, we were ready for them...yet each time they frustrated our efforts preferring to run than risk a decisive confrontation”

The Triarch spoke with no sense of derision, tactical withdrawals and retreats were a necessity he too utilized to preserve his comparatively small number of Cataprhacts to ensure they could fight on through a long campaign.

Anson nodded soberly

“Ever since the Shadow warriors arrived we have been on the back foot, your Triads efforts alone seemed to have blunted their advances enough to prevent a catastrophic collapse….but...last evening...I engaged the Leader of the Shadow Warriors myself,”

Neither Soban nor Nurhl concealed their shock.

“My Kage…I had not heard...”
 
“It was on a…metaphysical plain,” Anson explained quickly

“It confirmed many of my suspicions, Kazic does not control these beings, they control and dictate strategy to him now…”

“Are you recovered…were you…” Soban spoke, his voice strained in his own agony, both cataphracts could tell Anson was not recovered fully and had likely come straight here after the ephemeral conflict

“Victorious…” Anson smirked recalling the Flow Walking battle
“No…but nor was I defeated…and I obtained valuable information…”

Anson pressed a few buttons on his gauntlet to summon up image of the Shadow Warriors

“I have seen the truth of our enemies numbers, their intentions, and their plans...they number only 19, including the leader, it’s been their rapid deployment between combat zones and carefully planned acts of brutality that, I admit, had us believe there were more of them.”

Soban shared a glance with Nurhl, 19...that was manageable, if only just, with the 30 Cataphracts they had on Galtea. They had previously thought there were at least 40, making Nurhl cautious on pursue them too aggressively.

“And we haven’t been able to predict where they will strike…their deployments random and confusing to deny us a chance to pin them -now I understand it is because they are few and they are afraid…”

Anson paused pinching at the top of his nose, the Force swirling in strange time churning ways about him  - Flow Sight Nurhl realised astonished at the Kages abilities.

“But now…I have seen their intentions in the Flow…There are possible futures I have...muddied...in which we can act...they are avaricious scavengers, greedy for technology and Force artefacts, my few remaining spies in Kazics camp have confirmed a substantial number of rare minerals and Force artefacts have already been handed over to the monsters,”

“I’ve also seen reports of Educational facilities and Manufactories having their computer systems hacked, museums looted of objects after the enemy retake an areas,” Soban confirmed, unable to join the front lines he had been supporting intelligence services by providing his own analysis after delving the myriad reports that came in on the Shadow Warriors.

“That very covetousness will be their undoing,” Anson concurred with a ferocious glint

“Without his monsters Kazic is nothing, only fear of the Shadow Warriors has caused defections, not conviction, once your Cataphracts destroy the Shadow Warriors the war will be over,” the Kage said his confidence filling Nurhls breast with pride.

“I’ve begun to draw my forces back to Lus’phor, to consolidate and prepare a counter attack, in the Flow I’ve seen the Shadows will use this as a chance to divert their troops to looting three key locations, Hephaestus base, Camp Rhadde itself, and, following me, Lus’phors Kyber refineries…”

“Hephaestus Base?” Soban asked, having never heard of it.

Nurlh looked to the Kage who nodded assent to reveal the secret known to barely a dozen outside the base itself.

“At the Northern Pole under the  Joste-dal-sbreen Glacier, Hephaestus Base, is a secret research and manufacturing facility to which many of our best scientists were evacuated early in the war, I oversaw the operation personally…”

Nurhl paused

“Kage, how did they learn the location,”

Anson smiled bitterly

“They haven’t, but they will...such are the complexities of strategy using the Flow...”

“We will defend the facilities to the….” Nurhl began

“You will not.” Anson cut him off
“We will allow them to attack and succeed in infiltrating and taking the base, the Fortress and the refinery…Our forces will put up a strong fight…but they will lose…then, when our enemies are fatigued and lazy in victory and theft…your Cataphracts will strike and obliterate them even as I destroy their leader myself…with his allies gone our forces will relaunch from Lus’Phor and pick apart Kazics forces trapped on Galtea and demoralised.”

It struck Nurhl momentarily as merciless, reckless even to sacrifice so many valuable lives.  He quickly disabsued himself of such doubt, the Kage was the Kage because he was willing to bear the burden of sacrificing the few for the good of the Order.

“The Flow is precarious, the future uncertain…to warn them of the attack, or do anything that might alter it will deny us the advantage…our enemy Must foresee a moment of success to ensure they still act as I have anticipated.  Even with my other traps we must be careful, If we deploy too many Cataphracts in any one location the water will spill over the cup and the future will be lost…”

“But with too few the trap may not succeed at all,” Nurhl replied

“I know…” Anson replied glumly with a sigh

“..this new theatre of strategy is...difficult to operate in…” he stared into an ephemeral distance Nurhl could not, and was in some ways thankful, could not see.

“Each order I give, each motion I make changes what I see, makes the future tremble, already those futures are on the verge of toppling, any more changes will cause me to lose the only tactical advantage we have had for weeks.”

“I understand Kage, attempting to take advantage of a future event you have foreseen by deploying too many Triads could potentially cause that event to not occur at all as the cascade of causation leading to that point changes too much...” 

Nothing was certain in war, less so trying to fight one based on premonition…but Nurhl had absolute belief in the wisdom of the Kage he was honoured to serve.

Anson could only nod grimly, a modicum of solace to know Nurhl understood the frustrating limitations within which he had to work to exploit these hard won opportunities….

If only he’d had more time to develop his Flow Walking skills, understood the true scope of what could be done earlier in the war...Ironic that it was Kazics monsters that had forced Anson to realise just what he was truly capable of strategically. 

In the present the stern cathar bowed once more astonished and inspired by the burden his Kage carried.

“By your will Kage, The Cataphracts will honour and defend the Vhal’Dan .”

Anson stepped toward him placing a hand on his shoulder

“I know you will, my friend, now…” Anson puse,d again staring into a realm of time Nruhl could comprehend

“...now we must plan carefully, I have already foreseen the role Sora will play, a critical one I assure you, but the rest we must determine this very hour…”

The next forty five minutes were among the most tense Nurhl had ever experienced, he was thankful of Soban’s presence, even as his body suffered the Master Grays mind was sharp as ever.  Plans and scenarios were put to Anson who used his Flow sight to check if it were ‘viable’

Anson could not predict the outcome, only the event.  An event was unviable if the wrong number of Cataphracts, the wrong entry point, or indeed in some cases the wrong Triad itself was chosen.  An error would cause a ripple in the Force the Shadows would sense and the attack would not come.

As the scenarios were tested Anson’s eyes grew more and more bloodshot.  Soban and Nurhl could see the strain, but said nothing.

Sora, taciturn at the best of times remained unmoved and silent, Nurhl wondered just how much of the Lasat was actually left within that armour - Maker knew what they had done to rebuild her at Hephaestus base in such a short time after such vicious wounds.

Finally the golden ratios were determined, the maximum number of Triads in each location that was just small enough that the Flow did not become so turbulent the stream branched off.

Sacrifices would have to be made, the Enemy had to be convinced the Cataphracts themselves were as small a threat as possible.  Hard choices were made for them by the necessity of the situation.

The plan was set within the hour as the Kage had required, the carved hollow gaze of former Triarchs around them seeming to nod assent.

“One last thing,” the Kage said as he turned to leave, Sora following close behind.

“Take this…” He took from within the robes over his armour a noneucilidan-nonahedron that seemed to defy three dimensional vision in its shape and glimmered slightly - and handed it to Nurhl.

“The Holocron of Xinis’zo - the first Aing-Tii to join the Vhal’dan, my Master Varel-zo bequeathed it to me, saying of Xinis ‘He almost understood the Rainbows colours fading into each other’...” Anson chuckled, so rare upon his face these dark days.

“I think it meant Xinis’zo knew more than even Varel-zo did of the Force...the Shadow warriors will not be able to resist such a prize kept in Istic Fortress on top of the other artefacts and materiel here,”

With trepidation Nurhl accepted the holocron that felt somehow...out of time...to the rest of the world.

“I will return this to you Kage,” Nurhl swore.

“Always in motion is the future,” Anson smiled back, his countenance then falling to grim reality

“I fear we three will not meet again in this life,” he looked to Soban and Nurhl, recalling the first time they had met on Vhal, when Soban had first joined the Vhal’dan turning from the oppressive path the Coven of Vahl had set him upon...and in the echo of that friendship a sharpened spike to recall also the brotherhood lost he once shared with Kazic.

It was Soban who broke the otherwise dread inspiring silence.

“We will one and all be untied on the Onyx tableau of the Honoured Members of and Allies to the Cataphracts,”

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 45 — Oblivion Gray — Immovable Object — Part 7

Walking the Hall of The Immoveable, a statue lined walkways through the heart of Istic Fortress, each monument to one of the  Immoveable Troika, Anson finally paused to issue his final instruction to the Hamask Ksorallyne Apus.

It was a fitting place - the Immoveable Troika had fought some three hundred years before, the generation following the New Sith wars, against the 4th Krath Crusade. 

Three Triads to a Tribus...and three Tribus to a Troika... Each of the 27 members of a Troika were an army to themselves a single Troika was known to turn the tides of battle, even--no, especially!--against a numerically superior opponent.

The Immoveable Troika had held a critical bridge to the the Capital of Mygeeto for 3 days against thousands of Krath ZealoTroops and slaying the Dark-Cardinal in command of the army, buying precious time for Jedi and Vhal’Dan forces to flank the Krath army and deliver a crushing defeat.

Proof of how unrelenting will combined with marital skill in even just 27 warriors could turn the tide of a war.

Anson was certain of few things, but of this he was, the Cataphracts were the key to ending this war, they alone could stand against the god-like Shadow Warriors without fear, their battle bond divesting them of all fear, their size training and armour allowing them to come closer than any Knight to a match for the Shadows - perhaps not one on one, but certainly a Triad could fell an isolated Shadow. 

Then there was Sora, the looming bulk beside him that still smelt faintly of medi-plas and micro-metallics.

The Lasats' pain and grief were fuelling fires of Hatred deeper and darker than the Oblivion armour of their enemies.  What seemed a lifetime ago Anson would’ve feared her slipping to the Dark side.  No more.

She was gray, albeit so dark it trod the line of Black.

“Hamask,” he ordered formally, voice bouncing off the hallowed statues.
“Your task, the role for which you have lived through the surgeries and cybernetic grafting is simple....”

Tall though he was he had to look up to the blank face plate, and strong as he was felt overawed by her bulk.

“I know Ovarug like a brother, I loved him like one once,” he admitted to her in the privacy of the empty hall

“And I know there is but one way to be certain - if my Assassins fail and after his Monsters are destroyed - he is personally crippled beyond any hope of recovery.”

Nausea twisted in his gut as he prepared to speak the words, to pass the sentence, on those he once loved.

He needed to let the sting of her treason acidify his compassion and fond memories, and speak as a Kage should, for the good of the Vhal’dan.

“You will ambush and kill Saani and Aresaea K’aval,”

<<<<>>>>

[TheDutchman]

On Oblivion Gray — Unstoppable Force
Phenomenal perspective from the Aethan POV from "Schisms:" we now see past the veil that was oh so carefully crafted courtesy of Valens, both for Anson's and Kazic's benefit.  "Power perceived is power achieved" indeed...

Not only do we see just how tactically brilliant Valens' (and in her capacity as Matriarch, Karintha's) war strategy is able to influence and direct, obfuscate and subvert the two former brothers, but also in how doing so, we see the realization that one of the remaining powers of the day will be whittled down to a more manageable level (at least in Aethan estimation) to deal with...although something tells me that this is not the last of such conflicts involving our favored Demigods & Grays, respectively...

But one of the most sorrowful casualties of the Civil War (and there are MANY) has already occurred before the opening salvos have even begun: the burgeoning relationship between Ari and Mili.  Worse still is that because of Ari's own conviction, love, and loyalty, she has blinded herself (much like how Kazic had concerning his own brother Anson...another "family trait" that is unfortunately prevalent in both generations) to the deeper truths of the motives of each architect, be it her father, her Warchief, her Matriarch, or even herself.  And now, her love and loyalty has encountered its own schism: the love for her parents vs. the love of her People vs. the love of her heart.  Ever is there but one conclusion for such conflict: pain, loss, and sadness.

And that's not even counting what Mili's prediction (and subsequent feelings) will inevitably presage...

Meta-note: absolutely AWESOME posters, LSG!  These are truly spectacular works of art, perfectly supplementing the incredible narrative     Also: for those of you who have been following along, I have to say that LSG's input and shared continuity has been instrumental in the progress of my own stories, easily improving them^^  And, yes, these scenes were spoken about/planned if not exactly storyboarded/written years ago.  THAT'S how good LSG is


On Oblivion Gray — Immovable Object
And now the OTHER half of the equation: we see just WHY Anson's faction--despite being bloodied, misdirected, and pushed HARD--were a DEFINITIVE threat: they had the courage of their convictions, in this case perfectly exemplified by the various individuals: the rank-and-file to every Primus/Secondus/Tertius in their Triad belonging to the larger Tribus...part of the whole represented by the Cataphract Troika.

What makes this chapter so remarkable, emotional, enjoyable, & compelling ARE those individuals: the disparate peoples of different races, each one part of the hetrogenous collective that made the Cataphracts (and, indeed the Galtea Union) so strong.  But it is the single PERSON, the individual characterization, that hits the mark perfectly.  In this War, from the most junior Tertius all the way to Nurhl Båz Rhadde, the Triarch himself, is a character that is invested in the Vhal'Dan, in the belief and realization of their convictions for the betterment of the Order.  Wonderfully written.

Among the remarkable characters, Nurhl stands out IMHO: he is both "father to his Cataphracts" as well as a loyal lieutenant and friend to his Kage.  One can certainly see in him all of the GOOD qualities of his ancestor, Sarll (as well as having none of the latter's BAD qualities).  No wonder the Cataphracts survive throughout the centuries, even into the Present Day timeline (even through the Jedi Purge courtesy of Darths Vader and Sidious): with ALMOST every single Triarch an example of what a laudable and noble Gray Jedi SHOULD be, they are a force to be reckoned with.

...Too bad this isn't the case during the Second Gray Jedi War.  Oops, nothing to see here; move along 

One of the best things that LSG does is choreographing battles, where his written words disappear amidst the action and adrenaline of the scene(s).  This is particularly evident here in this chapter!  I could FEEL the utter hopelessness (yet determined nevertheless) of Tol Yoru as the Aethans just steamroll through their lines, death as sure and swift as the coming night...only to be halted with the timely arrival of the Cataphracts.  Each of the Triads--Aurek through Qek--dealing with the insanely dangerous (and superior!) Shadow & Spiker Warriors, their own Legacy as important as their respective armament (from names weapons like Balmung and Durandal to each Cataphract's heirloom armor), their strength more than just their Battlemeld and the Dover Catalyst protecting them.  In many ways, they are the mirrored obverse of the Aethans: a singular unit/organism (the Troika) but one made of several, disparate parts.  Interesting juxtaposition versus the Aethan Isolationism/xenophobia (and intended, I'm sure  )

Of course, there ARE exceptions, in this case, the Hamask Cataphract Sora.  Once again, the Promenade Incident looms large in the lives of the Vhal'Dan, affecting those even encased in a literal shell of armor.  What of her role in Anson's overall strategy?  Is she to be an Executioner?  Savior?  Perhaps neither...

One thing is certain: the conflagration will only be more explosive the longer the War persists, the casualties piling up despite the abrupt halt of the War courtesy of the Lus'Phor Holocaust.  But not before Death has collected on the Butcher's Bill shared between Valens, Kazic, Anson, and their respective people...

Meta-note: This is my favorite chapter (thus far!) of my favorite story    FAN-TAS-TIC!  I don't know how you're going to follow this amazing action up but I can't wait to find out 

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 45 — Oblivion Gray — Mother and Daughter — Part 1

>>>> 3 Days Before the Lus’Phor Holocaust - These Events Occur
Between Schisms The Vhal’dan Civil War Chapter 22 and Chapter 23 <<<<

Saani

Saani K’aval had only ‘met’ five of Ari’s people.  Spent meaningful time with only one apart from Aresaea herself.  

That was Kiraea, a…woman…who looked barely a year older than Ari…was impulsive, impatient, provocative and astoundingly powerful.  Saani had never met a being who combined such martial skill, enough to drive Saani’s own husband into a feral rage when they fought, with juvenile delinquency.

She had hoped Kiraea was an outlier.  

She was wrong.

“Stop hitting yourself! Stop Hitting Yourself!” the girl Ari had identified as ‘Lya’ giggled as a Nithorn tediowan repeatedly bashed itself in the head with the hilt of its lightsabre. Around the oblivion armoured girl were a number of ‘captured’ soldiers staring giddy into vacant space or laughing under some kind of Force compulsion.

“Bored now,” Lya declared and with a series of sickening wet pops the whole group she had ‘captured’ had their throats snapped and skulls imploded.

This girl, or woman…or monster…was astoundingly worse than Kiraea, more egotistical and manically sadistic…were they not fighting on the same side, Saani would’ve needed no convincing of the necessity of having such a being locked away in carbonite.

“Mother we need to move”  Ari whispered beside her, alabaster skin and red hair concealed beneath the shaded armour

Saani could only shake her head, checking her power packs as she crouched behind a fallen ferrocrete column in the ruins of the Sem’Piel Industrial Trade district before pushing her force presence downward as she used her Buried Presence technique.

Ari had already vanished.  Saani had taught her all she had learned about the Shadow arts in over thirty years, but in their comparatively short time apart Ari had, even accounting for her astounding armour, far exceeded her.

The brief lull in the fighting that had allowed Lya to ‘play’ was breached with the thunderous beat of mortar shells about their former position as the re-enforcement arrived.

Sem’Piel had been hit hard in the opening months of the war, the various manufactories and logistics warehouses razed swiftly in a lighting attack by Anson’s supporters deeming it likely many of the factory owners would sympathize with Kazic.  Since then it had been forgotten until Corvus had captured a weapons cache with power packs bearing marker ident stamps from Sem’Peil Power Solutions, a scouting mission uncovered a steady trickle of vehicles moving about the ignored area.

Further scans from one of Ari’s peoples vessels revealed radiation spikes consistent with the use of Ionization capacitors used to generate charge for power cells – Saani had been deployed to investigate further, the resistance they encountered barely two hours in confirmed the suspicions Ansons forces had reclaimed and reactivated at least part of the complex, or possibly had occupied it in secret the whole time.

She wove cover to cover through the ruin of twenty stories now littering the ground in artificial hills of duracrete, jagged durasteel spires of structural walls – little sign of ruined machinery, Saani suspected it had been taken underground before the bombing at the outset of the war…as if it had been planned well in advance.

Pressing closely in the shadow of an upturned air-conditioning unit she spied the advancing reinforcements. At least one armoured division, a handful of Knights…she had only twenty Shadows with her…as well as Ari, Lya and…

Amidst the advancing vehicles one of the troops fell flat on his back, two behind him in turn…

Sel

That one she had not met, Sel operated as a sniper utilizing projectile rounds that could be controlled telekinetically even at twice the speed of sound allowing her shots to ‘chain’ between heads and bodies.

Once a splinter of Commando’s had tried to attack ‘Sel’s’ nest, Saani closest had moved to assist. A single word had been spoken in her mind at that point, something Saani suspected only she and the other of Ari’s kind could hear,

<Lydan>

By the time she arrived ‘Lydan’ was in the midst of the Commando, a towering male wielding a blue flickering abyss black naginata, carving off limbs and ramming heads onto broken pieces of metal to set up a hideous totem.  

More and more she feared for her daughter under the influence of these…these…

She refocused, she had a war to win.  

The ground troops scrambled for cover, the Tanks and APC’s scanned for the sniper as three hovering assault platforms, rounded anti-grav discs covered with weapons on the top and bottom manned by three inside swept overhead laying down fire on her advancing Shadows.

“Redirect to the flanks!” Saani quickly ordered “Imoni, Castra, prepare the diversion in their path,”

Clicks on her comm indicated assent, Sanni looked about trying to see where Ari had gone, noting only a Phindian Knight in full armour, shoulder pad displaying Anson’s insignia proudly, advancing ahead.

Mechanical sounds and booming thumps erupted as Imoni and Castra deployed the Diversions – a specialised device that burrowed into the ground and sent shockwaves reminiscent of Heavy armour and attended sound waves and thermal radiation signatures ahead – for the armoured divisions scanners it would seem like another heavy armoured division was heading toward them at a rapid pace.

The Division immediately drew up and took position to meet the advance their sensors detected – giving the Shadows a crucial forty seconds before they realised there was no advance coming.

The Phinidian Knight reached out with the Force as Saani lithely crawled down a hill of rubble, her light footed approach and Buried Presence ensuring she did not disturb a single pebble.

The Phindians Reptilian eyes narrowed, he could sense something was amiss, he turned to speak…Saani drew her dagger and pulled back to throw…

A living shadow flashed from the left to push the Phinidan behind a cracked upturned tiled floor, Saani skidded down just in time to see Ari over the Knight blood dripping from her short sword.

It was an impressive silent kill, but it would be a matter of seconds before the repositioning troops noticed.

What occurred next terrified Saani.  

Ari dipped her armoured fingers into the gash on the creature's neck, then made strange eldritch signs in the air with the greenish blood lit a pale purple by Ari’s own Force powers.

Saani nearly gasped breaking her stealth as the Phinidan stood up and Ari pushed a rounded detonator into the rictus closed fists of the surely dead creature.

With a staggering gait the Phindian knight ran from cover back toward his troops line, any worry about their commander forgotten as he approached.

Until he rushed straight past the officer trying to tell him the attack was a diversion…and straight to the largest of the tanks, jumping up, his head flopping half off he rammed his detonator clasping hand into the main cannon’s barrel and killed himself a second time in the explosion.

A ripple of confusion spread across the Ansonites, the sniper fire continued to bleed them on the right flank, on the left two of the assault platforms tried to fortify a roughly square still half standing reinforced storage shed.

Their morale was on the edge with the seeming suicidal betrayal of their commander.

 It collapsed with another use of the name of Ari’s squads ‘tank’

<Lydan> Ari didn’t even need to indicate where she wanted him, he was guided unthinkingly by the telepathic meld of the three women.

Moving from his cover he took a running leap off an massive fallen I beam that creaked under his weight, leaping on top of the near Assault platform Naginata blade first.

It was like a Holo-role-playing-game team Saani thought, Sel was the sniper, Lya the scout, Ari the ‘mage’, and Lydan was the tank simply pointed in the direction of anything that needed to die.

The platform shook and buckled as he landed, chunks of metal ripped off,a black hand thrust inside and pulled one of the pilots screaming out, crunching the neck in his fist Lydan tossed the body aside and jumped in.  

Ari, hands and fingers moving in troubling synchronicity to Lya fifty meters away spun out with, a strange circular glowing symbol in front of her, replete with eldritch symbols, it projected half of the enormous Rancor like illusion that ‘leapt’ from the ground as Lya provided the other half.

The beast was five stories high and slammed it’s gross brown claw onto the second assault platform as Selaena fired one of her experimental Shikkar Rockets from a sniper attachment, the ultradense missile striking in perfect time with the illusion to make it seem like the platform had been downed by the beast.

Confused and panicking at the sight of a five foot Rancorthe Ansonites hollered a full retreat deeper into the ruins.

<<<<<>>>>

“Ari…that…that Phindian was dead wasn’t he?”

“For a brief time yes,” she stated matter of factly as she looked over the latest orbital scans.

After the retreat the shadows had regrouped before pushing forward - a necessity as Saani found a number of her own shadows just as traumatized as the Ansonites must’ve been by the necromancy, illusion and mental torment Ari’s people had unleashed.

“That was some kind of…” Saani could barely speak it for the terror it engendered not to herself, but her daughter to be adept at such heinous arts
“…necromancy,”

“Of a kind, though he wasn’t dead that long, it’s quite interesting actually, how you have to tweak the spell according to the decay rate,” Ari spoke as if it were any other saber technique.

Saani reached out and pulled her daughters shoulder to turn her around

“Ari, that is extremely dangerous,”

Now Ari sensed her mothers distress and cupped her cheek

“It’s alright, it’s only dangerous if you don’t have the proper training, I know what I’m doing,”

That is what I’m afraid of Saani didn’t reply.

 “They’ve moved deeper to the south east…” Ari refocused on the task at hand
“But I think they are trying to draw us away from here…”

She pointed out what seemed just another grid of ruined factories, switching the filters on the holographic projection from her gauntlet showed radiation signatures - switched to a three dimensional view Saani saw what Ari meant.  There was a distinct ‘down’ then across pattern of the radiation - an elevator then tunnel underground.

“If we split our forces send some of the Shadows to ‘pursue’ while we find a way into the underground factory,” Ari suggested

The poise in her voice, along with the new abilities affirmed to Saani just how much her daughter had grown in such a short time.
“We don’t have the ordinance or number to capture or destroy it,” Saani cautioned

“It’s not likely to have more than thirty or forty troops, perhaps half a dozen knights...we should infiltrate after we call in reinforcements, then we can have a larger opening ready for them when they arrive.  The Five of Us and half a dozen shadows should be enough”

Her daughter spoke with confidence grounded in experience and reality, it was a surreal change from the ever inquisitive pre-teen Saani remebered meeting so long ago.

“Mother?” Ari asked as Saani continued to stare at the woman now before her.

“Sorry, that sounds, risky, but possible, if you are confident in your abilities and those of your companions,”

Ari nodded

“Then we should get moving,”

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 45 — Oblivion Gray — Mother and Daughter — Part 2

Sora

The only thing that pained Ksorallyne Apus, Silver of the Vhal’Dan and Cataphract Hamask more than the endless itch along the painful interface between her lavender toned flesh and the dark metal nanites that comprised half of her body, was the incompetence of her underlings.

“The Shadows are breaking off to pursue the armoured column Master,”  Tediowan Yolin’Gyl, a Givin with mediocre Force attenuation at best informed her in the command room beneath the ruin of Sem’Piel as she watched from micro-spy camera’s the battle above.

“Fool,” she snapped, her patience short at the best of time all but absent now

“Those Shadow warriors will not be misled, they will attempt to infiltrate despite their small numbers, such is their confidence, justified by short sightedness such as you have just displayed,”

The Givin’s already stretched and pleading facial bone seemed to lengthen under the castigation.

“Defence pattern Bech-6,” she ordered curtly, turning in her heavy Cataphract plate.

Every step and motion of her body now involved pain at the junction between flesh and machine - making her intolerant of the slightest annoyance.  Sora as she used for short had always been  cantankerous, now...now she had fully given into it.

Having the right side of your body - leg, arm, breast, eye, shoulder and most of her skull - burnt from you on the same day your Teidowan died would do that.

Her heavy armour thumped along the grated durasteel flooring that wove through the cramped manufacturing facility hidden in unused sub-mag tunnels and stations where space was at a premium.

She swept her head across the ranks of skeletal bone painted droids that welded and screwed power cells and batteries of all sizes together.  A seemingly mundane, but in reality absolutely critical resource especially after recent losses to the True Kage’s forces.

Sora had missed so much of the war - ever since the Promenade incident where in the collapsing and burning buildings she had used her 194cm of height and incredible physiology to rip rubble and lift collapsed walls helping civilians escape trying to reach her teidowan, Lanz Krieber.

Just as she reached him fires caused a nearby power inverter to explode, the electrical fire burning both and showering them with shrapnel.

Her flesh side twinged at the memory…

By her will alone she had survived, pushing what energy she could into Lenz...but...by the time emergency lifters broke through with their chipped durasteel claws pulling five stories off the hollow they were in after six days….

Lenz was gone, she was assumed to follow imminently.  

That was until a representative of the Kage himself had approached with an offer.  At the time she could not speak, her body was numb from the sheer volume of anaesthetics pumped into what was left of her.

“There is an experimental cybernetic treatment,” she forgot the gender and face of the speaker her remaining eye had been covered and ear still ringing.
“Based on a more…complete integration of the Dover Catalyst nanites into the users body….We can only attempt it with your consent to volunteer.”
With her remaining hand she clenched her fist in acceptance.

Twisted half remembered time passed in surgeries and physiotherapy, the nanite cyber limbs required ‘fresh’ wounds to cleave to, necessitating the removal of even more of her body to install the necessary affixation points into her flesh, invasive micro brain surgery to link in the nano-neural networks of the dover catalyst to enable her to control it in place of her lost limbs.

And pain, endless itching pain where flesh and metal embraced in friction.

Vhal’Dan regulars scattered to their positions, murder holes and bunkers within the underground facility she had plotted herself.

Many called the Hamask Cataphracts such as herself ‘berserkers’, ‘Dark Side Maniacs’ - they did not understand the planning and control that was needed to perfectly unleash hatred on the enemies weakest point that was her Art.

Yes she was dark for a Gray Jedi - her reconstruction had made her darker still….

Gripping a railing with her servo powered Cataphract gauntlets she felt the metal dent under her new cybernetic hand as she watched the endless ream of conveyor belts and gears pump out cabinet sized batteries by the dozen.

Yes she was in pain, grieving, Hating...

It all served to make her Stronger.

<<<<>>>>

Saani

Small fires still burned on oil pools, a pallour of khaki dust covered everything, her scanner picked up spiks of radaition from breached containmet fields on fusion cells, various industrial chemicals hung in vaguely pink haze over the center of what had been a thriving industrial zone.

They encountered a handful of probe droids, those they could not avoid dealt with by toppling loose ferrocrete chunks to draw their attention.  In the distance they heard the sounds of thumping artillery and the eerie echo of exploded ordnance.  

The occasional fly over forced them to hunker under their Chameoline cloaks or in cover.

With the bulk of the Shadows harrying the armoured division on its faux retreat, Saani led five Shadows and the four Aethans through the thickest rubble.

“There…” Ari gestured to what seemed just another crater with a perhaps unusually flat base and building collapsed down the rim directly toward it.

“They must use that building to get to the elevator…” Saani replied noting a few cracked rounded pieces of durasteel protruding from the craters opposite rims - evidence the explosion had severed an underground mag rail line...or rather was intended to look that way.

In two parties they skirted the rim to the building, in the former office block Saani, Ari and three shadows went through they found a far greater number of motion sensors and heat imaging cameras than anywhere else in Sem’Piel their scouts had encountered.

First contact was at the ‘top’ of the fallen building, its eight stories on a 30 degree angle of repose into the crater.  Four regulars were comfortably positioned in vantage points that offered a complete view of the surroundings.

They were taken out without a sound flopping back into the tight corners they had occupied.

Saani led the advance down the sloping building whose wall was not the floor, scattered files and furniture offering innumerable places for traps and sensors requiring a slow and gradual approach till they reached the base, where under a false floor was the hatch to the elevator.

Saani searched for a consol or connection to hack open.

“Lydan,” Lyaea whispered pointing some five meters to the side.  The tallest Aethan strode over and with a single hand pulled off a dyna-bolted maintenance hatch grate Saani hadn’t even found yet.

“Well hidden,” Ari said as they sounded out the hatch.  While narrow it would just be possible to get down.

“Sel will go first and clear the traps...but I sense by the time we hit the floor they will know we are coming.”

<<<<>>>>

Sora

“No response,” the Givin Teidowan stated the blindingly obvious, the guards at the main entrance had missed two scheduled check ins.  Cameras and sensors on the main entrance building were repeating the same steady state signals - clearly hacked into loops.

“Any movements on the main elevator?” Sora asked arms over her heavy plate breast armour, towering over the Givin as she filled the tiny room with her metal bulk.

“None, still on the mezzanine level,”

“Then they are entering via the maintenance ducts. Acid wash it.”

“Why not the explosives?” The Givin asked - she really ought to take the time to learn his, or was it her?, name.

“Try them,” Sora sighed.

The Givin brought up the linked in defences and hit detonate.

Nothing occurred except a spinning red wheel on the screen [System Unresponsive]

“They disabled those as soon as they got in, fool, the acid,”

With a nod the Givin complied.  The automated cleaning system had been adapted to spray corrosive and noxious gases instead of chlorine and anti-mould agents.  It would do little damage Sora knew but it would be an irritation and wouldn’t have been high on the list of traps to counter.

“Now it begins...Cresh 3 Flame them out!” she ordered.

<<<<>>>>

Saani

Acid fell from above, torrents of raw plasma flame from industrial torches burnt up from above.

Saani felt the sweat boiling off her as propped knees in her face, feet on one side of the maintenance tunnel, back on the other as she shuffled down.

She fumbled to tighten the seal on her shadow-breather helmet to ensure no acid or gas got in, but she could feel the heat spread by conduction up the wall.

There was whispering in her mind among Ari’s kind before she heard a heavy thud as something dropped.

A break in the plasma heat...shots...a gurgling scream…

<Lydan>

How… Saani wondered, the ‘Heavy’ was six shadows above her!

“Ashla’s Mercy!” she heard Chiri squeak above
“He just vanished!”

Force Teleportation Saani realised, it explained how Lydan seemed to appear wherever he was summoned...but Maker knew how much energy that was taking him even over a few meters...Saani expected his Armour must be somehow designed to exponentially reduce the Force drain needed, but even so he likely had to spend extended periods in between ‘recharging’.

There was more noise from below, the heat dissipated through the metal before it could burn into her Chameo-Suit...just…

She descended moments later to find three dead soldiers, bodies splattered against a far wall, and Sel hunched over, her light eating armour gloss with a wax like sheen from the heat.

“Is she alright?” Saani asked as her Shadows and Lyaea secured the exits

As if indignant at the challenge to her health Selaena straightened back up

“Fine” Ari said for her,
“But her armour is weakened,”
Even Oblivion stone has limits Saani realised almost thankful.

“Keep to the mid section then as we advance providing sniper fire,” Saani suggested Sel not responding except to move exactly where Saani would’ve positioned her.

“They know we are here...let’s use that to our advantage, Elspin, Kreen move in advance of us, see how deep you can get, and if you get a chance at the commander take it, the rest of us move as one.”

<<<<>>>>

Sora

The enemy were advancing quickly, just as Sora intended.

Her artificial eye scanned with starling speed between the linked in feeds, from the cameras increasingly blotted by the shadows as they advanced to the heated forging chambers where molten metals were injected into ceramic moulds, the bubbling orange glowing fluid forged into hundreds of powercell casings and other components each second before being dunked almost white hot in rad shielding coatings.

The former subway maintenance tunnels had been converted to the forge in which she would herd the enemy.  There amidst the blazing heated metals their characteristic Oblivion armour would buckle and bend all the more easily, the thermal extremes distort their senses, and the new subroutines worked into the molten injectors would turn them all into weapons.

She would turn the industrial equipment on them, any exposed flesh would be seared, heated dollops of liquid durasteel eating in deeper in excruciating pain she knew all too well.

And Lenz a whispered voice in the back of her mind reminded her.

The broken brunt form of her teidowan reared itself like a spectre before her eyes.  The one she had failed.

Her cyberaugmentics snapped on in response to the emotional arousal, nanite spikes protruding from her armour scaring the Givin out of his wits once more.

“Initiate Defence Patter Cresh 2,” she ordered with a hiss.

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 45 — Oblivion Gray — Mother and Daughter — Part 3

Saani

Ari had been correct in her assumption the factory was not heavily staffed.

But what the defenders lacked in numbers they made up for with automated defences, well positioned killzones, and multiple defensive barricades to cover their retreats as Saani’s...or perhaps Ari’s...force advanced.

The Factory was a warren of steel and ceramic, grinding gears and chain belts ferrying half assembled components along ranks or mechanical arms that spat flickers of plasma to fuse components before ramming them into magnetized capacitors that created electrical potential difference.

There was a smell of Tibanna gas from somewhere further on, clearly not filtered to a humanoid safe level as it seeped out in gradually accumulating micro amounts from where it was compacted into blaster packs.

Saani and her shadows used the clutter to their advantage, slipping in between narrow openings, often dodging spinning machinery to flank hard points, climbing upside down on gantries to come in under turrets and plant EMP’s.

They were making progress, but it was slow, and their resources were running low.

They got creative, using the environment to their advantage, taking unsealed power packs from production lines to create makeshift explosives, redirecting welding arms to turn on hovering drones.

Ari and her People were economical in the use of the Force, using it defensively rather than bashing down any obstacle as they were becoming famous for, though Lyaea used a combination of impenetrable stealth that Ari termed the ‘Cloak of Shadow’ and mind manipulation to turn a few of the guards on their brethren in suicidal attack runs that left the others shaken.

Sel added to the chaos by conjuring incredibly lifelike illusions of ‘Vorynx’ predators on Ari’s world.

Unwarned Saani had feared it was some monstrosity that Anson’s forces had deployed till it mercifully ran at a heavy durasteel door covered in opening and closing slats from which the guard fired - it drew their fire to allow Lydan to creep up and with his raw strength pull a quarter of the door open and toss in an implosion grenade that churned the rest of the door into a compacted wafer of metal.

Yet as always it was Ari that Saani focused on.  Her control, her confidence to walk into what was obviously an area with overlapping fields of fire and bounce the bolts back with her sabers so calmly as though it were merely an exercise, giving Saani and her shadows time to strangle each marksman from behind.

Her daughter had grown without her.

Releasing the garroting hold on the limp guard Saani simply watched as Ari strode forward and without so much as gesture pulled three more from their barricade, they hung in the air like frozen corpses, arms and legs pinned tight to their body as Ari effortlessly extracted information on defences and the facility layout from them.

All those guards saw was a blank Abyss coloured monster that flickered with purple here and there.

Saani saw a pre-teen red-haired girl with wide eyes and mouth gaping at the sites of the Stryka-Annix Memorial gardens.

But which of those is truly her now? Saani wondered?

The Guards were levitated closer, Saani felt herself holding her breath expecting the wet snap of necks…

Ari dumped the three on the corrugated iron floor behind her and walked on.

Astounded as they were terrified they scrambled to their feet and ran in the opposite direction, past the scope of Sel and Naginata of Lydan who acceded to Ari’s injunction to let them go.

Both was the answer Saani realised.

<<<<>>>>

Sora

Blood dripped from retractable nano spikes as the Shadow, Elspin sent in advance of the main force  quivered.  

He had done as Saani asked, slipped by the defensive barriers and made it into the level 2 security zone where he spied the Cataphract armour.  Taking his chance he had made a perfectly timed leap, saber poised to ignite into the thin gap between the neck and shoulder.

Receding back into the experimental armour the spikes that had skewered the would be assassin let him drop lifeless to the floor.

A bold attempt to be sure Sora mused, but a pointless one.  There was nothing in a Shadows equipment that could penetrate regular Cataphract armour without the most precise - not to say lucky - blow - let alone her Prototype plate integrated with dover nanites.

She withdrew the spikes with the sensation she would associate with opening her now absent right fist, the neural sense of closing it caused them to spike out.  

All her new advanced cybernetic abilities had been similarity mapped to the somatosensory cortex for the right side of her body, and the use of any always caused a phantom limb pain...but the corpse behind her proved it was worth the discomfort.

Trampling through the corridors she paused at a minor flash in her right eye.  The cybernetic implant was able to translate the entire electromagnetic spectrum into her brain as varying shades of yellow or red.  At first she thought it a glitch, but no incongruity could be ignored while there were spies.

Her armour servo’s on a low setting she paced toward the doorway to a programming annex her advanced range of vision spied the attempted distortion of a second figure.

Kicking out her ‘leg’ a chain like appendage of nanites spread from within the shell of her armour at lighting speed to strike the figure.

Kreen swiftly moved but was caught by the nanite bladed extension that was barely a finger’s length wide in her hip.

Twisting round she fired off her pistol, the shots bouncing off the ablative armour without even activating the electrical counter measure, a grenade lobbed ws equally ineffective as Sora advanced far more quickly than Kreen imagined was possible in such a bulky suit.

The fight was brief, Kreen’s saber a light pink hue was barely lit before Sora’s yellow saber staff crashed onto her in time with the Cataphracts in built blasters denying Kreen range of motion.

The sheer force of Sora’s blows that mixed Lasat physiology with cybernetic strength and Cataphract powered armour soon shattered the comparatively diminutive Passadan’s guard, without pause Sora finished the intruder with a kick- genuine this time, that imploded the rib cage.

Two down

<<<<>>>>

Saani

“There is a new master in charge,” Ari explained as they stalked through what had once been ventilation ducts for the subway line, again using every aspect of the cluttered manufactory to their advantage.

“The Guards don’t know the name, only that she wears a heavy suit of armour and has a foul disposition.”

They were not headed to the control rooms, rather the southern tunnel were trains ferried the power cells out and would, if protocol was being followed - enemy reinforcements within the next fifteen minutes.

They waited as three carriages loaded with cells zipped by before leaping out.

One either side of the track they began setting their charges.

“I’m glad you let those three go,” Saani said breaking the focused silence

“There has been enough killing already, more than I’d expected…”
Ari attempted to shake the thought with her head
“just like she said…”

“She?” Saani asked programming the timers.

“A….friend of mine, back home,”

Saani could feel the discomfort and regret peak before Ari suppressed it - a mother knew.

“She didn’t come here did she?”

“No...she… is a very good friend, and I didn't like how we parted,"

"Just a friend,"

Ari paused, looked to the side, then down as if trying to find another topic...before returning to her mothers gaze across the tunnel that would not leave her,

"I'm not sure...she...she said I shouldn't come to Galtea...we argued and..."

"And you came here anyway..." Saani could only sigh and place an arm around her shoulders

“She warned me things wouldn’t go how I thought...I imagined we would force Anson to surrender in only a few days once his fleet was shattered...I didn’t understand how intransigent both sides had become…”

Saani felt a sting in the statement, aimed less at her than at Kazic...she recalled a number of times she had confided to her husband the dangers of the paths he had taken, and perhaps regretted she had not been more forceful.

“Ari you can always apologize, I’m sure your...friend... will understand, now come on let's get out of here…”

Her motherly advice done, they scrambled back through the ducts their HUDs counted down till the moment the next train came past.

Two implosion grenades and three thermal mines - the entirety of their remaining consumable explosives - detonated as the middle carriage passed them at perfect time.

Power cells and batteries popped with furious arcs of energy as the implosion grenades turned them outside in exposing energied cores, the train buckled on both sides and sprawled with a grating crash into both walls that shook the tunnel for kilometers in every direction.

Sora felt the rocking and growled, checking again the displays that showed the infiltrators supposedly pinned in Section Cherek.

Her forces were a quarter of their starting number, on the verge of fleeing.

Now was the time for the Hamask to rally the Vhal’Dan.

<<<<>>>>

Lyaea

A comm ping indicated more of Kazic’s forces were arriving soon to take the prize of the largely automated factory, they need only find a way to open the main hatch, ensure there were no self destruct mechanisms or disable any that did exist, and ideally mop up the remaining guards.

Selaena and two shadows were tasked with the first objective, Lyaea and Two remaining shadows the second, Saani and Ari the third.  Saani suspected Lydan was hiding to recharge his Force energy for teleportation, and if Ari called his name he would appear.

Their enemy scattered across the facility, and reinforcements now stuck behind the ruin of a subway train filled with dangerously unstable power cells that had not yet exploded, the guards preference to secure the main control room was denied by Sora who brought them out, rearming and replenishing equipment she led twelve less quaking troops through the still churning factory, till at a command to the Givin the entire operation fell silent.

The thrum and spark of assembly died an instant later, an eerie silence broken only by the odd drip of metallic pop as machinery settled.

Ignoring the change Lyaea set to work on the baradium bomb hidden beneath an underfloor access panel in the rough center of the former subway station now crammed with gantries and building sized industrial equipment.  It took her back to her days on Commenor with Kiraea and Adaea, learning all the trick from old Colm Maynard on typical failsafes and redundancies on locks.

She heard the footsteps and felt the mass before the Shadows did, though they were not far behind.  vanishing into their buried presence they  wordlessly left her to intercept the attackers.

Shots fired, screams, the snap hiss of one...two lightsabers...a mechanical whirl and crunch...lives blinked out...not enemy ones.

“Shavit!” in a single motion she swept up and out bow in hand arrow drawn to see a hulking tower of armour overshadowing the eleven guards.

Fast as Lyaea’s arrows fired Sora’s shields activated, counter projectile measures hitting the oblivion arrows to reduce their momentum by 75 per cent, making them bounce harmless off the plate not even triggering the ablative plasma clouds.

Not good Lyaea thought, always keeping her eyes on the big one she danced to the side as a broadside of fire came at her ahead of the charging hulk.

Sora was surprisingly swift in her armor, but the Aethan woman’s inhuman dexterity made the gap just too wide.  Lyaea snapped more arrows against the guards who fell clutching gaping wounds where Sora could not extend her defence.  

Lining the Cataphract up Lyaea bounded from pillar to ceiling down swords drawn and charged by the aether with enchanted flame and dathomiri malacia hexes.

She crashed into Sora’s saberstaff and felt the unnerving thrill of surprise as the nanite spikes jutted from the armour toward the joints of Lyaea’s Mark II armour as they ground against each other, Lyaea realising this monstrosity was physically stronger than her, a rarity at the best of times.

Worse her enchantments had no effect on the Armour - while recrafted to facilitate the cybernetic nanites, the plate itself was still a legacy piece from the New Sith Wars, worn by generations of Hamask’s through countless battles it had developed a ‘Callous’ in the Aether as Melron termed it, rendering it, if not immune, then substantively certainly resistant to aether attacks.

Before she could disengage, the Nantie ‘limb’s struck under her left arm, and back of her right knee.  The red sense of pain filtered through and she dropped less than elegantly off, raising her lightning shield which caused Sora to pause her follow through.

Sora had seen all the vids of these things, knew they were more mortal than they would have others believe, and she had just proved it...but she also knew their array of Force abilities was without peer.

Scrawling a protective spell around with one hand, and a Spatial distortion enchantment with the other Lyaea grinned beneath her helm.

<Lydan>

Sora’s danger sense exploded as she felt a twisting of space time behind her.  Servo’s staring she turned in time to catch Lydan’s blow as he teleport shunted in through Lyaea’s spell-portal.

Far stronger than his sister, Lydan was still barely a match for the Cataphract and pulled back to use his better dexterity with the Naginata, but Sora’s saber staff glowering yellow would not let him be, a torrent of blaster fire from her gauntlet added to his trouble as nanite limbs snaked out.

Lyaea’s attempts to support her brother with arrows and telekinetic attacks were largely rebuffed by the Hamask cataphract armour - as many scratches and dents she made the nanite auto repairs filled in the gaps - and her attention divided by sealing her own wounds.

Sora’s Force attacks were far more efficacious.  The Blackstone armour was designed to soak up Force energies or provide a teflon surface the powers would ‘slide’ off.  The intensity of Sora’s grief powered her blasts to a level that could not be soaked or avoided, bludgeoning Lydan as much as the saber staff as he tried to gain distance.

Shikkars and detonators bounded from both Aethans armour, Sora’s cyber limbs snapped to knock them from the air shattering the glass daggers and sending the explosives flying to detonate harmlessly, splays of brightness that illuminated the massive form of the Lasat the only effect.

It was like fighting a Dreadnought on two legs, massive, metal and mindless, there seemed to be no consciousness for Lyaea to try and manipulate, no thought patterns for Lydan to disrupt, only towering adamantium focus.  

Despite her wounds Lyaea sprang back into action with her sword and a cluster of illusions.  The complete spectrum cybernetic eye that linked to sensors across her armour meant Sora was not at all fooled by the salivating rancor and vicious canine-like creature loping toward her according to her flesh eye.

She stood in the eye of the storm of Abyssal weapons and strange magicks, slowly grinding down the pair who showed increasing concern that Sora was not fatiguing.  Force lighting from Lyaea couldn’t overload the heavily insulated Cataphract armours powered limbs or nanites, Teleport shunts from Lydan couldn’t outmaneuver the speed of the Hamasks guard.

Two onto one they were losing.  

Avoiding a nanite limb, Lydan’s right leg was scored badly by the saberstaff, which coming round nearly took Lyaea’s arm and left her exposed to a nanite bladed tentacle, her irritation at being hit again obvious.

Tasting blood Sora doubled her intensity, battering the naginata away in the same sweep that divested the other of her sword, releasing her grip with her cybernetic hand Sora ‘reached’ with phantom nerves to extend her arm by 30 centimeters allowing her to grab the throat of the larger of her opponents.

Shock was absent in Lydan’s focused state, but the cracking red sensation of a metal vice crushing his neck was not.  He slashed at the arm causing only metal chips to fly off as Sora kept Lyaea busy with her nantie limbs and saber.

Three perfectly aimed phirk bullets slammed into Sora’s hand just as she had started squeezing the life from the young Aethan.

Selaena was always quick to protect her children.

A steaming hole left from the pellets was soon in filled by the nanites and Sora tossed Lydan hard into the far wall charging on the new opponent after dismissively battering Lyaea into the ground with her sword.

Selaeana opened up on the Hamask’s face plate but the energised rounds bounced off the tougher layers.

The Aethan mother barely switched to her short sword in time.

<<<<>>>>