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Post by Brock Ferrum on Jul 9, 2023 15:23:50 GMT -8
The Main Entrance Hall and Corridors of Fel Tower.
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Silas Darkstar
Knights of Ren
Posts: 198
Affiliation: Knights of Ren - The Magisterium
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Post by Silas Darkstar on Jul 9, 2023 15:27:54 GMT -8
Belle Époque Cabal
Brigadier General Gar Killian, counter to what many might have thought about him, stood at the head of the 666th Legion as the Stormtroopers marched into the Fel Tower at first, before picking up the pace and flooding through the structure. Blaster fire quickly started ringing out across the structure as the Purge of the Imperial Knights began. They would be far too loyal to Octavian to be allowed to live and would present a challenge of divided loyalties for some should they remain alive. The story that would grace the holo-waves come tomorrow morning would be the declaration of Baltasar Delvardus' claim to the Throne as the rightful heir to Nicademus' legacy. This would be followed by a story of how the Imperial Knights refused to accept the rightful heir and in the process of being arrested peacefully, had incited an attempted uprising. Assuming Warden was also working his own part of this plan, rumours would also circulate regarding the second treachery of the Imperial Knights by way of an assassination attempt.
The news report would be pointed to as a form of Baltasar's respect for his Brother and the legacy built by trying not to sullying the name of the Imperial Knights with the truth. For now, Gar kept ordering his forces deeper into the tower as the fighting heated up
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Post by Brock Ferrum on Jul 9, 2023 16:34:33 GMT -8
Brock sat at his Desk working on paperwork, a task he'd grown unfortunately accustomed to over the years, when his senses pick up a disturbance just as alarms began to blare through Fel Tower. In a swirl of motion the aging Steward of the Imperial Knights grabs the twin sabers from his desktop and makes his way into the outer office where various staff members were in a sudden flurry of motion. "Report?" He speaks in a clear, unpanicked voice, trying to assert some sense of order and get whatever answers were needed to react to whatever the heck was going on. A red armored stormtrooper officer was the first to respond.
We received reports of approaching soldiers for the gates just before communications were jammed. Visual inspection from nearby viewports and closed circuit camera systems suggest a large force of Imperial Soldiers attacking the tower.
That information shocked Brock for a moment. He had expected some sort of vehicle accident or other such minor incident, even the wildest scenarios that his mind had flashed through on his brief walk across his office floor expanded only as far as the possibility of an attack on Coruscant itself, but Imperial soldiers attacking the tower. That was ridiculous, but the commander of the single Battalion of Crimson Corps soldiers stationed at the tower had no reason to lie about any of it and so Brock shifted his focus with the information he had and began to shout orders over the cacophony of sounds going on around him as he made his way toward the exit to the offices and toward the nearest stairwell. "Ryslin, find Ziel and get him to the meditation chamber, then post yourself up outside of it with a squad of Major Kellak's men. One of the twin Imperial Knights that had shadowed him since Nicademus had forced him to take guards what felt like ages ago now quickly spun off to follow his orders. Brock then turned his attention to the other. "Jahrin, find the younger squires and get them to whatever safety you can find. Once lines are established keep them far behind them. His second protector nodded and then disappeared down a different corridor to do as instructed, leaving only Major Kellak still shadowing him. "Collect as many of your men as you can find quickly and meet me two levels down at position Delta-Zero-Niner. We'll assess from there and make our move.
What followed was a blur of action as the Imperial Knights of the Tower worked to repel the attack on their home. Initially the 666th had a massive advantage. In the opening moment of the attack, as everyone struggled to figure out what was going on, dozens of Imperial Knights fell as they were swarmed by soldiers who should have been friendlies. The Crimson Corps lost the entirety of the company on duty near the main entrance to the academy, being gunned down by Imperial soldiers that they would have stood rank and file with just yesterday. The traitors gained a lot of ground in the opening minutes of the attack, swarming effectively through the lower floors of the tower. The response to the attack was slower, with communications jammed it was almost impossible for the imperial Knights and the Crimson Corps to coordinate anything resembling a proper defense.
Things changed swiftly when the Imperial Knight's secret weapon entered the fray. Suddenly the forces of Tower began moving with precision, various elements moving with with near perfect coordination to meet up and repel the attackers. It was as if each Imperial Knight and soldier suddenly understood exactly where they needed to be. At the same time the soldiers of the 666ths were beginning to feel foggy, loosing some of the intense focus that had served them so well in the opening moments of the attack. Imperial Knights backed up by Crimson Corps soldiers began tearing through the recently taken areas of the towers, striking from multiple directions at once, sometimes even dropping directly on the heads of soldiers from floor cur lightsaber hole ambushes. The traitors had made a valiant attempt at forcing disorganization among their enemies, but they'd been unaware of the potential for force based coordination. Irizi’e’lorrak, known to most as Ziel, one of the few Chiss Imperial Knights in service sat cross legged in the middle of the tower, sweat slowly falling across his stone still face as he focused his efforts on the battle meditation that was slowly allowing the Imperial Knights to regain their tower.
At the head of his own group of soldiers Brock Ferrum, Steward of the Imperial Knights, was the tip of the spear of the counterattack, silver saber whirling at blinding speeds to deflect blasterfire, dismember attackers, and create new avenues of attack wherever possible. He had opened himself up to the force and was allowing the combination of battle meditation and instinct lead him forward. He was just a few turns away from the main entrance and he was starting to believe that maybe, just maybe, it would be possible to end whatever this rogue attack was before it was able to gain enough momentum to do any more damage than it already had.
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Silas Darkstar
Knights of Ren
Posts: 198
Affiliation: Knights of Ren - The Magisterium
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Post by Silas Darkstar on Jul 9, 2023 21:18:07 GMT -8
Belle Époque Cabal
The 666th Legion's initial rush had proven quite successful, The Brigadier General had hoped that would be enough to ensure success and the Imperial Knights would know when they were beaten. But as with all things, you hoped for the best, but prepared for the worst. Their resurgence so quickly was a little surprising, but even a dying dog could catch a seasoned owner out even but for a few moments. With almost a full Legion at his command, the Imperial Knights and their Crimson Corps would not last.
Their retreat was steady and just beyond the tide of the Imperial Knights. Their losses were calculated and necessary. Air Speeders had arrived, surrounding the Tower, while Walkers had been dropped in to do the same on the ground, reinforcing the Stormtroopers of the 666th that had been stationed outside and had been waiting their moment to breach. Once Gar was clear of the building, laser fire from the gunships in the air started assaulting the upper levels of the Tower. It was a light assault at first, but the AT-M6's and the AT-AT's stood ready to pack the harder hits. If they could not be coaxed out and surrendered, then they would be obliterated. They didn't need survivors to parade before the camera's, they would just have been a bonus
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Post by Brock Ferrum on Jul 15, 2023 17:59:13 GMT -8
The near perfect focus of combat is on Brock Ferrum, Steward of the Imperial Knights, as he spearheads the force of Imperial Knights and Crimson Corps soldiers that are making their way through Fel Tower. Despite that there is a part of him that begins to feel hope as they approach the main entrance to the tower, the wide entrance hall slowly emptying of white armored stormtroopers as they either fall to combat or make their ordered retreat out the wide double doors. Perhaps, just maybe despite whatever traitors may be attacking them they'd be able to win the day. Those hopes are dashed however as the last white armored figures are driving back and the tower itself begins to shudder. The tower was designed to withstand fire for situations just like this, though it's structural integrity wasn't infinite. The real problem were the grander picture that such a barrage alluded to. This was no small military rebellion of misguided soldiers intent on rushing in and eliminating the Imperial Knights, heavy equipment out in the open spoke of a deeper betrayal that spans across more than just this one small battlefield.
Brock reaches out with the force, opening his senses through the nearby entry to get a deeper sense of the force arrayed before them and when he did it took all of his training and self control to keep his feet and not sink to his knees in defeat. Not far beyond the doors to the building that had been his home since the reclamation of Coruscant stood nearly a legion of soldiers, ready to invade his home at the will of some unknown and powerful master. There were few people on Coruscant who could have made this happen with secrecy on this level and Brock had some suspicions of who might be behind this atrocity, but their identity was a problem for later and so he pushed it to the back of his mind. Survival was the only focus that those trapped in the tower could afford at the moment. The identity of the traitors was a problem for another time... though it was also a question someone else would have to answer.
In the brief reprieve before what he could only assume would be another push toward the tower the Steward of the Imperial Knights spins on the group of soldiers and Knights fighting beside him, taking a deep breath to center himself before giving what might be his final orders. "Evacuate the tower. Spread the word as fast as you can." He turned to Risette Levigne, his long suffering aide, who'd helped keep him on top of his duties as Steward for the last decade or more. "Gather up the twins and their charges and make sure they make it out." The students would need extra protection to preserve whatever future the Imperial Knights might have after this betrayal, and Ziel would be needed to help lead whatever remained of the Imperial Knights. Before the red headed Shownarri could turn to carry out her orders however Brock caught her eye for just a moment longer. "and thank you" He meant it for so much more than just what she was about to do, but he'd never truly gotten the chance to tell her how invaluable she'd been and he didn't want to leave that totally unsaid, even if he didn't have the time now to properly express that now. Turning away as the Knight went about her duties he turned to Major Kellak. "Take your men out with the Knights. Give them whatever cover you can on your exit. We have to preserve as much of the Order as we can if there is to be any future for it. If you can get away, attempt to get in contact with my Son. I don't know what's going on outside of this tower but if he's out there he'll be fighting whatever is going on here, give him what aide you can and I'm sure he'll do what he can to keep you and your men alive.
As the soldiers began to move back into the tower itself to spread the evacuation and cover the Imperial Knights Brock turned finally to the group of roughly a dozen Imperial Knights remain that had been fighting next to him on this push. "I will hold them here as long as I can. Each of you must do whatever it takes to survive and get word to the Emperor of what happened here. I can only assume that this is about more than just an attack on the Imperial Knights. Be the shield that we've always been meant to be. Protect the Emperor and the Empire from whatever this new threat is. It's been an honor. Some of the Knights clearly wanted to protest and stay with him and guard the door, but there was something in the tone of his command that held them back from protesting, they saw his resolve and instead turned to do as ordered.
Brock grabbed the arm of the nearest Knight before she could move off. Zharia Kelash was one of the younger knights in the group, having been a squire less than a year before. Though she'd been trained in one of the First Order's most peaceful Eras after today none of the serving knights could be considered anything but battle hardened. "Knight Kelash, I have a special mission for you." He pulls the second lightsaber hilt off of his belt, a non-standard hilt that Brock had brought with him when he joined the Imperial Knights. It was the last vestige of his Jedi past and he wouldn't need it here. "Take this to my son. Tell him that I wish I could have given it to him myself. Tell him that I wish I could have left him with more than just that blade and whatever mess this is." He gestures around vaguely at the sounds of battle. "And tell him that I love him, and I'm proud of him. They both knew that this would be his end, and Brock could see tears welling up in the young Knight's eyes, but she nodded, promising to relay his message anyway. Turning away from the now dispersing crowd of soldiers and Knights Brock remains silent, letting his last words be for his son.
The group hasn't even managed to fully leave the area by the time the push from the enemy makes it's resurgence back into the tower and it's soldiers are met by the whirling silver blade of Steward of the Imperial Knights, raised one final time in the defense of his people and the Empire.
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Post by Roland Ferrum on Jul 15, 2023 18:22:52 GMT -8
*Roland lead the group of survivors through the undercity of Coruscant, crisscrossing quickly through run down corridors of buildings that most had forgotten about. He picked his route carefully, moving in seemingly random patterns, both to confuse any possible pursuit and to avoid the territory of any gang strong enough, or stupid enough, to attack a group of imperial soldiers. After collecting the engineers and 501st soldiers who had been holding their exit out of the tower the group of Engineers, 501st, Emperor's Talons, and Imperial Knights had swollen to nearly the strength of an entire company. An impressive force by the standards of the undercity gangs, but barely a fraction of what had been stationed at the palace to protect the royal family. Roland did everything in his power not to think about the losses, but instead to focus on the mission, but even so the deaths of so many men and women that he knew personally was too heavy a weight to completely ignore. So the usually jovial man instead moved solemnly at the head of the column, eyes and force senses darting about looking for any more surprises. Thankfully even with the switchbacks and round about paths the palace and Fel tower are not far from each other and it isn't long before the group is ascending back toward the more populated levels of Coruscant. Their path takes them up an adjacent building, half of the Engineers continuing the ascent as the larger group of soldiers and Knights make their way out of the building and onto the edges of the large platform that surrounds the tower and serves as it's grounds.
Unfortunately the sight that greets them is no better than the one that they had just left. Most of a full legion still stood outside the tower as gunships and walkers pummeled the tower itself. Death was in the air and he could feel Imperial Knights dying as they fought their last ditch fights to survive. His force, especially as exhausted as it was, was in no condition to turn the tide of this fight and save the tower, but they might be able to do enough good to save at least some of the Knights that he could feel fighting their way out of nearby auxiliary entrances. There was still hope though, Roland could feel his father's presence, not far off still fighting the good fight, not all was lost. The former Imperial Knight began to lead his force toward the nearest group of survivors to give them relief, when everything went terribly wrong......*
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Post by Brock Ferrum on Jul 15, 2023 20:01:23 GMT -8
It did not take long for the soldiers of the traitorous legion to learn caution. The first smaller groups of soldiers that were sent through the entrance to asses the situation disappeared without a trace. Unfortunately that's when the enemy commander decided to go with overwhelming force. Ducking behind one of the massive pillars of the entrance hall Brock took a moment to breathe as a flurry of blasterfire began burning through hall around him as what seemed like the entire enemy legion opened fire through the now shattered doors of the grand entrance hall. His breather unfortunately didn't last long, as after less than a minute of sustained fair a huge clatter of boots echoes through the entrance hall as dozens of enemy soldiers make a blind rush into what they could only assume was a full force of Knights and Soldiers. Instead they are met with a single man in armor of white and gold, calmly staring back at them as the soldiers hesitate, their blasters trained on the man but triggers remaining unused as they try to process the new information. That moment is all the time Brock needs. With a single sharp nod of challenge the steward of the Imperial knights blurs into a streak of force assisted speed and is suddenly among the group, the silver blade of his saber arching about him, cutting through the soldiers indiscriminately. He managed to keep himself in close with as many of the enemy as possible, not allowing their companions to get a clean shot at him, and deflecting the rare bolt that a lucky soldier managed to get near him with in the same motion as he bisected one of the enemy troops. A small part at the back of his mind reflected on how these soldiers would have been considered allies mere hours ago as he waded through the carnage of his own making, though those thoughts never slowed him, these soldiers had made their choices and were now faced with the consequences of those actions.
Brock lost count of the soldiers dead to his blade, but he left behind smoking and dismembered corpses in white armor as the assault force collapsed around him and he arrived at the front entrance of Fel Tower. There he faced down his enemy in their full might, sneering down in silent defiance at the soldiers who dared to spoil his home and his people with death and blood. His moment of solid silent defiance is spoiled as a hail of blasterfire descends on him from the waiting soldiers. He drew deeply on the wellspring of life that had followed him through life, letting the force flow through him deeper than he'd ever dared before. His aim was to buy time and to that end he stood there, silver blade spinning in a defensive shield, battering bolts away in whatever random direction he could manage, his focus intent only on standing as long as he could. It was within that swirling storm of fire and noise that the first bolt hit. Forced to chose between deflecting a bolt that would kill him or one that would simply graze his flank, he took the lesser of the evils and a scarlet bolt of energy hit his side, blackening the armor and sending a jolt of pain through his body. His armor had taken most of the power from the shot, but enough energy had survived to be the first nail in his coffin.
The second bolt struck not long after in a moment of distraction. Feeling the danger posed by the walkers once the commander of the force decided to no longer worry about collateral damage he was forced to split his focus, allowing his senses to spread out before him to the cockpits of the walkers and with an effort of precise will and focus as well as telekinetic strength he never would have thought possible before this moment the Imperial Knight's most skilled healer stopped the heart of dozens of walker pilots and gunners, temporarily negating that threat, but at a cost. In that moment of distraction the second bolt struck as a lucky soldier managed a shot past the spinning shield of death and into Brock's upper left arm which fell suddenly useless from the hilt of his saber, forcing him into a sudden one handed stance, trying to fend off bolts with only his one good arm. In that moment of fault the third strike hit, smashing painfully into his left shoulder, sending another jolt of pain through his body and solidly removing the chances of his left arm returning to the fight.
With a final burst of force enhanced speed the Imperial Knight once again waded in among the troops, silver blade returning to the deadly work it had become so familiar with. Brock deadened the screaming nerves that were attempting to distract him, once again plying a tool he'd been taught to heal others as a way to keep himself fighting. Despite the devastation he was bringing on the soldiers of the 666th legion every one that fell to his blade was replaced by another as he moved, trying to stay in close to as many soldiers as possible. It was a seemingly endless tide that he attempted to grind against his single blade swung with his single arm, unfortunately that tide took it's tole as he began to slow and the fourth bolt hit, catching his right knee and bringing the white and gold armored man immediately down to the ground, landing hard. The soldiers smelled blood and Brock's ticket was nearly punched.... but he had one more act left in him.
His good arm moved the silver blade of the Imperial Knights in a final shielding blow as he drew on the force, allowing it to suffuse and empower him, drawing it too him to a degree that would have killed him if he weren't already dying. He'd always been skilled and powerful with telekinesis but this would have been impossible even for him under any other circumstances. With one last massive pulse of strength Brock Ferrum, Steward of the Imperial Knights, brother to the first Emperor of the First Order, and loyal guardian of the Empire pulled all of the gunships battering the upper levels of the tower down in one powerful tug toward him, bringing the airspeeders down on the soldiers around him, raining fiery death down on the traitors, enacting swift justice on much of the legion, and dying on his own terms....
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Silas Darkstar
Knights of Ren
Posts: 198
Affiliation: Knights of Ren - The Magisterium
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Post by Silas Darkstar on Jul 15, 2023 22:12:15 GMT -8
Belle Époque Cabal
The last stand of the Steward of the Imperial Knights was, objectively, an impressive display. Many a Stormtrooper of the 666th Legion fell to the silver blade and the esoteric magic of the Force that the man wielded. For the briefest of moments, Gar Killian felt a shiver of fear and panic trickle down his spine as Brock stood in front of the tower, deflecting bolts and cutting his men down. He'd brought an entire Legion to handle this matter, but until that first blaster bolt struck, it seemed like maybe he had underestimated his foe. He felt some relief wash over him as he tried to relay orders to the Walkers to begin firing, only to find their crews were dead. Orders were already being shouted down to remove the dead crew members and get them replaced immediately.
The 666th started to scatter then as the airspeeders came down from the air in one sudden wave. Those that did not move fast enough or were unable to escape were crushed. Several explosions went off as some of the airspeeders violently impacted the ground and their power generators gave out, taking with them some bystanders that had escaped being crushed to death. Gar emerged from his cover shaken as he surveyed the scene of carnage wrought by the Stewards final actions. The rest of the 666th seemed equally shaken and unsure as they were stuck between shock and trying to recover their fallen comrades from the wreckages.
After a moment or two, Gar managed to gather his wits back about him and started shouting orders, bringing the Legion to its senses. The walker crews were changed out for still living members, whilst the Troops on the ground pulled back from the Tower. Gar walked over to the group surrounding the now empty armour and the discarded saber hilt. Many of them confused at having seen Brock standing there one moment and the next disappearing. The General knelt down and picked up the hilt, examining it
Outstanding... Gather the armour and get moving!
The Troopers were snapped from their confusion and got to work collecting up the suit and followed Gar away from the Tower as the Walkers started to open fire upon the building with their heavy cannons. The 666th kept pulling back to a safe distance as laser fire erupted forth and tore into the Tower
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Faina Delvardus
The First Order
Posts: 301 
Affiliation: The First Order
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Faina Delvardus on Jul 16, 2023 4:29:34 GMT -8
While her body is present for the winding, circuitous journey to the platform surrounding the tower, Faina's mind is elsewhere; the Force-bond forged between her and Brock enabling her see what he sees and feel what he feels as he fights what will prove to be his last fight for the Empire they have served together for so long. Nilda, sensing the Dowager Empress' waning strength all but carries Faina, putting one of the Empress' arms over her shoulders and guiding her along as they follow Roland and his troops, the surviving Emperor's Talons and what is left of the 501st on towards their destination.
Faina, knowing when Brock accepts that he will not survive his selfless effort to hold the traitors off as the surviving Imperial Knights and Crimson Corps troops retreat what is to come, does not allow the despair she feels keep her from lending her remaining strength to Brock, funneling it to him through the ties the Force had established between them, his determination perhaps shared with her so that she does succumb to the tidal pull of the grief she knows lays ahead. Faina feels her already depleted reserves of strength fading fast as Brock calls on the Force to move with superhuman swiftness as he becomes a whirlwind of death amidst the impossible odds he stands alone against, and as she is with him in their shared consciousness she feels each and every blaster bolt that strikes his fatigued body as keenly as though they had torn and burned her own flesh.
The last of her strength fades as Brock gathers the Force to him in preparation of what will be his final act, Faina feeling the almost lethal taxation on his mind and body as he suffuses himself with the Force at an almost impossible level to endure as though it were her own mind and body that bears the burden, and she feels his death as though sharing it with him when the gunships he pulls down upon him and the traitorous soldiers around him explode and enable him to meet death in the manner of his choosing; the potent blow of feeling his death so intimately coupled with the sense of loss, singleness when she and he had always been so bound together it was like they were always together even when separated by distance, and and the shock to her system that accompanies the abrupt severing of their Force-bond mercifully rendering her unconscious.
Nicolina, shaken out of her own shocked state as she watches the flames roaring to mark where Brock had fallen amidst his foes when Nilda nearly drops the Empress when she collapses, goes over to the Imperial Knight to help her lower the Empress' limp body to the ground, asking, What happened?
Nilda, her inky black dreadlocks hanging down over her face as she mourns the loss of their Steward, looks past Faina as she tells her as well as Roland, who may not have known of the Force-bond between his father and the Dowager Empress, "She and your father shared a Force-bond. The shock when it was severed must have overwhelmed her."
Moving over to Roland, Nicolina puts a hand on his shoulder as she says, her own grief evident in her tone despite the vocal distortion of her helmet, I'm so sorry, your father was . . .
Not relishing the need to be the insensitive but pragmatic one in the group at the moment, SGT Girish Achari says over his commanding officer's attempt to console Roland, ::We have decide what our next move is now, before we're spotted, looking at Roland as he has been the one leading their rag-tag band of survivors as he asks, What are your orders, sir?::
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Post by Roland Ferrum on Jul 22, 2023 8:30:58 GMT -8
*His Father's death hits him mid-stride and freezes him in place, shock causing his body to lock up almost instantly. One moment he felt the vital presence of his father ahead, a beacon of hope he'd become so familiar with since his adoption more than two decades ago, and then the next a single blazing burst of power burned up that beacon leaving the force suddenly cold in his heart, a dead space where once there had been life and love. He doesn't even notice his aunt falling unconscious behind him as his eyes lock forward, toward the fireball where his father had once stood, the attacking soldiers in temporary chaos, his mind trying, and failing to make sense of what happened, his anger slowly rising, slowly becoming a pool of hate deep in his heart.
Nicolina's hand on his shoulder is enough to break his frozen shock, although the grief in her voice as she began to make an attempt to console him as well as the sudden realization of what had happened to his aunt only added flames to the growing fire of hate he felt for the traitors. That hatred nearly manifested itself as one of the Talon's soldiers interrupted his commander, Roland nearly turning his saber on the soldier and releasing that hate, but some part of him still retained enough control to remind himself where that hate truly belonged, as he instead ignored the man and turned back to the soldiers now in chaos pulling deeply on the power of the force, enhancing it's strength through a filter of his hate as he prepared to rip the city down around them.*
<<"Look to the living, not the dead">>
*For the second time in as many moments Roland found himself frozen. He was unsure if it was a message through the veil of death, or simply just his own subconscious memories bringing him back to his senses, but his father's voice in the back of his head was enough to bring the man back to his senses, suddenly horrified at what he had been about to do. After going through so much trouble to save who he could, he'd nearly torn the platform down around them taking the 666th as well as all of his own people down in one final move. That would not have honored his fathers memories, and in fact would have betrayed everything the man had ever taught him. He'd nearly allowed his grief to consume him and everyone else around him. Asserting control over himself he was able to shove his emotions into a box, unable to fully deal with them at the moment he was able to, just barely, set them aside to be processed later.
His voice was suddenly devoid of all emotion as he turned to the soldiers around him, his body posture shifting as he went from a sense of intense emotion to a sudden lack of it, his logical processes suddenly taking over as he began to issue orders.* "Colonel Foresi, take your talons and keep my aunt safe." *He gestures to the entrance they'd all just emerged from.* "If anything happens to me Captain Swain will help you get her to safety." *He gestures up at the building they emerged from, toward where Swain was now stationed with half of the engineers in overwatch position, before turning back toward his remaining engineers, and the other survivors of the palace fight.* "The rest of you are with me, we are going to try to relieve whatever survivors we can find and lead them to what safety we can find."
*Not waiting to see who'd follow him Roland reactivated his Violet blade, allow it to serve as his banner as be took off jogging toward the nearest side entrance to the tower where a group of survivors, lead by a greying chiss Imperial knight, was emerging from the tower and into the confused elements of the 666th that had been watching it and were suddenly attempting to get orders from their commanders recovering from the Steward's last stand. Pinned between two angry forces of imperial knights and soldiers as well as the engineer's snipers in the nearby tower the small group that had been stationed to watch this entrance didn't last long.
In the chaos that followed the Steward's death, his son was able to gather up what survivors he could, a couple dozen knights and nearly 200 of the soldiers of the Crimson Corps, and just as the traitorous soldiers were gaining their bearings again the group was able to slip away, back into the undercity, defeated, but not broken.*
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Faina Delvardus
The First Order
Posts: 301
Affiliation: The First Order
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Faina Delvardus on Jul 25, 2023 0:58:51 GMT -8
Affirmative, Nicolina tells Roland, the filters and distortion from her helmet's speakers making her sound far more composed than she feels; the sheer scope of the betrayal of the Emperor, combined with the loss of most of her troops, the uncertainty of her wife's safety given that their loyalty to Octavian could make her a target of whoever is behind the betrayal, the shock of witnessing Brock's death and the utter hopelessness that seeing all she has in the last hour or less has given rise to within her making her cling to the fact she has been given an order to focus on as though it were a life-line cast out into a sea of uncertainty threatening to drown her.
Motioning towards Faina's limp form beside NIlda, Nicolina tells Bedros, her medic, Help carry her and check her out over once we're clear. As Bedros goes to help Nilda carry Faina, Nicolina wags her index and second finger towards the way they came and tells Grahn, her forward observer, You're on point, then tells Achari, Watch our six. Once Bedros and Nilda have Faina in a two-man fore-and-aft carry, Nicolina has her Talons move out after Grahn.
Faina is still unconscious when Roland and the Imperial Knights and troops from the Crimson Corps rejoin them and they all start moving back into the Undercity, making Nicolina worry - despite the fact that Bedros could find no medical reason the Dowager Empress has remained unconscious - about what lasting complications Faina might have ahead of her since the Force Bond between her and Brock was severed when he died, and making her realize how little she probably knows about some of the things Force users have to deal with even though she has spent the majority of her career working alongside them.
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Rieva Kasalle
Member
Posts: 3
Affiliation: First Order
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Rieva Kasalle on May 22, 2024 16:02:29 GMT -8
Peace and Tranquility...
Rieva opened her eyes again, sitting in her cadet uniform on the stone bench among the Institute's gardens. Bird singing filled the air alongside the regular noise of learning cadets, faces that went by and disappeared, a normal schedule for her by now.
Looking over the tablet onto which she was learning for the... how often had she done this now? Fourth... seventh time?
Mumbleing echoes could be heard in the faint distance as well.
"Rieva? Are you alright?"
The cadet shrieked up, her blue eyes fixated on the familiar face of Director Malachai. She smiled, being glad that her tutor was here to sorta save her from the headaches.
"Oh Director!", she exclaimed, a bit flushed, "I was just... uhm... you know, learning about the history of the Galactic Republic again."
"Master... there are... too many of..."
At first Rieva wanted to look around, who was suddenly making such a tantrum, but it was then when the raven-haired Director sat down next to her, her smile of expression fond... almost as from a mother.
Right, her... mother...?
She was away, far in the stars they told her. A hero of the Empire.
"Rieva, my dear... it is okay to take a pause for once, you know?", the Director told her calm, her hand resting onto Rieva's own palm confidently while she looked her into the eyes deeply, "Besides, you have studied so much already, I'm still impressed that you have learnt so much. If you feel stressed, it is okay to relax."
Such soothing words. Malachai was respected among the students, therefore it felt still like an honor, that she seemed to think so high of a mere cadet like her now.
"Th-thank you, Director", Rieva tried to express herself, "It's... it's fine, no worries! I was just about to finish the section about... when the Jedi betrayed the Chancellor and..."
The smell of smoke. There were noises in the distance, sounding like blaster fire. The noises of combat drew closer to her. She knew that the tower-
Dazzled she blinked at the Director, who raised an eyebrow, somewhat concerned.
"Rieva-darling, it is okay", she told her, as if it was a mantra, her soft grip holding her tight as if she feared that she could fall down, "Whatever disturbs you, we are still with you. This academy... all this knowledge that you process... this is reality, remember?"
For a brief moment Rieva had to blink as the image of the Director seemingly flickered, making her hallucinate briefly that she saw... a whitehaired woman, similiar to her, but older.
The Grand Admiral... her mother?
Wait, who was that?
No, this was just a bad dream! She never met that woman... this illusion... she was at home here at Kuat... at the Academy... the Fel Tower... No!
Kuat Hesperidium Institute of... of...
Rieva held her head, the pain intensified. Her mind spun as even the Director's desperate attempt to embrace her seemed to fail.
"Hey, Rieva! Where... are you going?!"
"Rieva, stay here with us! Calm down!"
For a last time Padrea Malachai's concerned, yet warm face blinked up, but the Academy around them was long gone. All these thoughts felt wrong out of a sudden, everything faded into light.
Her instincts told Rivea that she should calm down. Sleep, rest, just wake up from that nightmare.
This was her reality, she would have to learn and process.
Good cadets follow their orders.
The order ist rest.
But why... no this was not reality.
She heard the humm of her lightsaber blade igniting, as she ran, trying to escape this twisted nightmare.
But how could it be a nightmare, if this was reality?
"Director!? Director Malachai, where are you??", she yelled, as if that would help her to find around.
Suddenly the white-haired woman appeared in front of her, the uniform of a Grand Moff being striking.
Her mother!
With a stern face she pointed the blaster at her without hesitation. Like in trance Rieva only watched as the carbine ignited swiftly, her mind being trapped in this slowed down moment.
Good cadets follow their orders.
This is fine, Rieva, you are dreaming.
Good cadets follow their orders.
Calm down, Rieva, this is your reality.
Good cadets follow orders.
Rieva, don't wake up. Breathe it in and out. There is air around you.
Good cadets follow orders.
"You're doing so good, Rieva... a top student already! I promise, we at the Institute will watch your career with great interest!"
GOOD
CADETS
ORDERS
"ENOUGH!"
The silver blade of Rieva's lightsaber flirred through the air and decapitated the Stormtrooper in front of her, as her rage took over.
"Shoot her, there's another on- AAAAAARRGHH", a Stormtrooper from the 666th Legion tried to warn their comrades around the corner, before the soldier fell as swiftly as the one prior to them.
Furiously Rieva blocked blastershot after blastershot, as she tried to back away, her mind burning as if something was gnawing at the very core of her brain.
Flashbacks of the past months went by like nothing,
her arrival at the Fel Tower,
the brief meeting she had with the man, who went by the name of Delvardus,
the so-called Emperor,
her training among the Knights,
it all came back.
Yet once more her thoughts were interrupted as a striking pain hit her shoulder, then another.
No, not another nightmare!
Why was her life like this? When would this torture end?
This was reality.
Or did she... did she just tell that herself again?
The pain intensified even further, it was now completely unbearable.
The last thing that Rieva knew was, that she screamed as more Stormtroopers closed in.
And then... within the blink of an eye, she found herself laying on the ground.
The smell of burnt flesh was within the air, her own body felt shattered, the weight of smoking armour pressuring her down. A brief look to the side showed that wall sections of the Tower's corridor were breached, dozen of Stormtroopers,
- traitorous Stormtroopers -
dead, partially split apart and beheaded on the ground.
Wait, who... did this?
Did... did she... cause this?
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