[CSP/CNS] Shattered Ties - Round Two


[CSP/CNS] Shattered Ties - Round Two


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Main Entrance
Red Fury Base
The dead littered the ground. Sadowan, Palatinaean, Soldiers, Sith. They made the top most obvious layers. Beneath their bodies were that of the pirates who had been taken unawares and killed in short order. For the moment the entrance was quiet, but it was a mere lull that belied the combat enduring inside and around the base.

Delak Krennel stepped over another body, boots squelching in the thick drying blood on the floor. The light of his lightsaber illuminated the faces of the dead. Some he had known for years. Others meant little to him, or worse, fed the seething darkness in his heart. The base lay ruins around him, drenched in darkness. Only the crimson light of his blade and a distance, recurring shower of sparks lit his way. No artifact remained, not a one. He knew not where they had wound up. In all likelihood, some were in control of his clanmates; the rest in the hands of their enemies.

His orders had been clear and precise. This was the one thing he could cling to throughout this farce. His superiors offered no reason for their actions, but at least their orders did not allow for interpretation. Do this. Achieve that. This was his final pass through the Red Fury base before regrouping with the rest of their troops. Nearby, a Chiss rookie by the name of Johnny Blackhurs hunched over a body and rolled it over.

Blackhurs smiled as he said, "Yes, this'll do nicely." The new guy pocketed some bauble before he turned to his superior. Whatever it might have been, it did not resonate with Force. Krennel gave it no further thought.

“Sir, I don’t think there is anything else for us to find here.”

Delak closed his eyes and reached out with the Force, probing the dark halls around them one last time. Nothing. Not a lick. Days before, the halls had been a bonfire in the Force. Not one ember remained now.

“Time to rendezvous with the others. This is war is far from over. There is noth-” Delak stopped, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. There was that familiar tingle in his soul. He jumped, tackling Johnny to the ground. They hit it hard as streaks of red flew above them, right where they had been standing. Delak rolled off the Chiss and propped up behind some of the corpses on the ground.

Stragglers. The Sadowan soldiers emerged from the darkness, blasters firing. Delak grabbed his own E-11 from its holster, angry that he had not sensed them. With a growl, he blind fired from cover. To his surprise, return fire whizzed over him from the opposite direction. Silence fell over the entrance again.

“We need to get moving,” a hulking shadow, a broad, towering silhouette in the darkness. Archangel, flanked with a dozen men, reached down and offered a hand to Delak. In one swift motion, he hoisted the Warrior to his feet. One trooper did the same to Johnny.

4 Kilometers from Kasador
Brockton Zelroth was alive. At least, he hoped that he was. Death could not possibly be so painful. His eyes opened slightly, the tiny slit allowing in the harsh light of the afternoon sun. His head was pounding, blood fighting the pull of gravity from his brain to the rest of his head. He attempted to breath, but only took in a lung full of smoke. It was painful and far too heavy, but he managed to raise one arm. He tried to release the belts that held him in place. Once. Twice. The blood drenching his shaking hands made the task far harder than it had to be. Finally, the buckle clicked and the straps loosened around his shoulders.

He pushed up. His head slammed into the transport's roof with a dull thud. At that moment, Brockton almost wished he'd died. Moving was far too painful. It would have been so much easier. Suddenly, it dawned on him. He remembered what had happened. He shot upright with a start.

Twelve hours before, it had been an evening like any other. Brockton, young and brash had had finally been bonding with his crewmates. The Red Fury - pirates, vagabonds, and filthy to the bone - had opened up to him. Six months of being the butt of the joke, as the punching bag, had finally paid off. He was one of them.

And then they came.

Brockton was no stranger to combat, growing up an orphan in the outer rim meant you had to know how to defend yourself. He had participated in his own fair share of reaving in the last six months as well. But nothing had prepared him for what came. An unstoppable wave of battle-hardened soldiers marched through their valley and up to their very front door. Among soldiers, was something he never thought he would see, lightsaber wielders. He'd heard of Jedi as any one had. Stories. Legends. He'd even seen a lightsaber once, an old battered thing that had blown up when a companion tried to activate it. But to face one... Who on Mustafar were these people?

They had swarmed their base without mercy. Everyone Brockton knew was dead. Someway, somehow, he had survived. He knew it had nothing to do with skill. Pure, unabated luck struck when the attackers turned on one another. Driven by instinct, he'd fled on one of those broken down hunkards in the docking bay. He'd had no options left. He rocketed out of the base, but he was no pilot. Sparking and flaming, he nosedived just outside one of the populated cities. He didn't know which one it was, in fact that mattered little, but he knew he needed to get to it.

He needed to warn them.

Maintenance Corridor 11C-19
Red Fury Base
Betrayal seemed to be a common theme amongst the Brotherhood. The Clans constantly jockeying for position to be the most powerful. For many years, Taldryan had lorded it over the others. More recently, it had been Arcona leaving the others fighting for the scraps.

Darkblade was furious at the Palatinaeans, but didn’t expect any better from them. The so called heirs to the Empire were constantly stabbing their erstwhile allies in the back. Why Locke and Sanguinius had trusted them in the first place was baffling to the Anzat. The Quaestor had been with his clanmates on Mygeeto, leading his House to secure the prize. Warhost troopers had accompanied them, the well trained soldiers had fought alongside the Sadowans for years now and knew how to handle themselves well.

When the betrayal had come, Darkblade had been savouring victory, with prisoners ripe for him to feed on. The process disgusted his peers and underlings, yet the Anzat had savoured the terror emanating from their captives. He had been interrupted by an extremely rude Palatinaean Sith who had attacked him while their stormtroopers had turned their blasters on the Warhost. The man assaulting him had died, but not before he had supped on his brain soup. The men and women with him, though surprised, acted coolly and professionally, diving for cover and cutting down their former allies.

Blaster fire and screams had echoed through the base as ally turned upon ally and blood was spilt once more. Violence was a common occurrence for those within the Brotherhood and death constantly haunted them.

Darkblade had counterattacked, gathering stragglers to his group. The former Rollmaster, Marcus Kiriyu and the energetic Qyreia had joined up with the Seeker. Together, they would make the Palatinaeans pay for their actions. Then they would take the damn artifacts and shove them up Xen’s behind as punishment.

City Entrance 4B
Kasador didn’t appear anything like a bustling metropolis from a distance. It looked like the ruins of a long dead civilization. There were the occasional speeders, a few buildings with clear activity, but the place looked more like an outpost than a bona fide city. Brockton Zelroth remembered this place. From the surface, you could never tell the secrets that Kasador hid. The real city, the wealthy city, sat beneath the surface. Secure beneath the crystalline earth, a dozen primary tunnels formed a ring around the urban center, branching towards its core.

Brockton ran at a pace only the promise of death could motivate. The pain was real, but distant, a echo across a great valley. Fear drove him on. They were dead. All of his new friends were dead. If they were being attacked there on Mygeeto, where could safe harbor possibly lie? He knew it was over for the Red Fury, but he had to look to himself now. His one hope lay in civilization and the safety provided by the lawmen and soldiers of Kasador.

The Muun that ran the great banking city had taken security very seriously. Security in the great banking city was a priority. The Red Fury had learned that the hard way before. Divided in narrow precincts, there were guard stations all over Kasador. It would not be difficult to find lawmen there.They were posted at every entrance. But such was Brockton’s panic that he didn’t even slow down upon seeing them. He crashed into one of their officers, sending them both to the ground.

“What the hell was…” The officer snapped. He cut off when his eyes locked on Brockton’s blood soaked jumpsuit. His narrowed eyes were clear, he recognized the suit for what it was: Red Fury. A stun baton sparked to life but the officer held back. Perhaps it was the blood or the agreement between the pirates and the Muun. In exchange for a hefty sum, the Muun had allowed the Red Fury to establish a base on the planet, so long as they stayed out of populated areas.

Brockton took several deep breaths before managing to force a handful of words out.

“Jedi. Base. Slaughter.”

There was disbelief in the officer's stare, but Brockton knew that his own state confirmed something had happened. The man snatched up his commlink. The base was far too close for the lawman to dismiss a possible threat, even something as preposterous as Jedi.

2 Kilometers from Red Fury Base
The ambushed had forced the convoy to a screeching halt. In seconds, countless men were blown apart, leaving the cases of artifacts unguarded. There was a dull crunch as Mune's mask planted in the snow. He made to reach for it but pushed it out of his mind. A first bolt whistled by him as he deflected the rest of the barrage with a whirl of his violet blade. He had been so sure. With the base behind them, they had had to be clear of fighting. Tasked with extracting the artifacts, he'd even taken a detour to ensure they would avoid any Sadowan troops. No dice. The game was shifting, he could sense it. He managed to block another salvo even as he watched more of his men gunned down. He ducked for cover between crystal growths, grateful for the natural defense they offered.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a shadow. He spun, redirecting a blast bolt into the Sadowan who’d foolishly given his position away. Calling upon the Force, Mune cocked down and launched upwards. Landing atop of one of the giant crystals. He slid down its sharp decline, his lightsaber was in constant motion. At least he was drawing fire away from his surviving men. As he reached the bottom of the crystal, he dashed forward, cutting through the throng of enemy soldiers that surrounded them. From the corner of his eyes, he glimpsed Reiden Karr leading the counterstrike proudly with blue lightsaber ablaze.

The last Sadowan fell, and Mune realized what had felt so off about the situation. He sifted through his dead enemies. A handful of Sadowan soldiers, some scouts, but not a single force user was amongst them. These were just frontline grunts sent only to hinder them, not stop them. He ran back down to the convoy. Several of his men stirred, wounded but thankfully alive. Those that remained motionless would be left behind. Mune had to see the mission to the end.

“Gather the carts, pick this one back up,” Mune ordered, slamming a hand against the side of one upturned container. There was a crackle of static as he summoned his white mask out of the snow and into his grip. He paused, the mask inches from his face when Reiden appeared at his side, his comm in hand.

“You need to hear this.”

Forward Command Point
Near the City of Kasador
Locke was already tired of this wind. It howled through the all-weather tent the Clan had set up to house their command staff. Snow was blasted inside occasionally, causing a light layer of it to settle across datapad screens and supplies. The tent itself barely stood up, as if it would give way at any moment. It creaked and shuddered as the wind buffeted it. This place made Tarthos seem like a paradise.

"How goes the battle?" Locke asked, shouting to be heard. Even inside the tent, it was still difficult to hear.

"It's difficult to say, " Sang answered. "But we have more reports of the Palatinae recovering artifacts than our own people."

"Dammit," Locke answered. "These Imperials are far too organized. It's time we surprise them for once."

"But how?" Sang wondered aloud.

A moment later, a tent flap was pulled back briefly, allowing a single individual to enter, as well as a snow flurry and a biting wave of cold air. A gaunt-faced Umbaran stood there, dusting snow from his shoulders.

"Armad, you have news?" Locke asked.

The Battlemaster nodded. "We have new contacts approaching from beyond the pirate base."

"Enemy reinforcements?" Locke asked.

"It doesn't seem likely. Our scouts got a glimpse and they seem to be locals. They were approaching in speederbikes and snowspeeders that all had a uniform emblem and design. Everything seems to indicate that they are local authorities, likely from the nearby city. Kasador, I think."

"Kasador," Locke growled, thinking, just as Sang said "thank you Armad."

"This could help us," the Jedi said. "These authorities will likely see this conflict as a dispute between pirates. They'll attack both Clans in the pirate base."

"Yes," Locke agreed, "but if they see lightsabers and Force powers, we're going to have a lot more issues to deal with."

"True," Sang said, "we will have to inform our members to be more careful. We can only hope the Palatinae are smart enough to do the same."

"Indeed," Locke agreed. "Inform the Clan to move to this city, and of the authorities approach. They should take any artifacts they have already recovered. We will use the city's terrain and the approach of these authorities to regroup and strike back.

"And if anyone must use their Jedi abilities in combat, they had better be sure their enemy will be dead and no one else will see to report back. I'll have the head of anyone who exposes us, without question."

He would not enjoy giving that order, but safeguarding the Brotherhood's existence was extremely important. They still weren't a match for the First Order or Resistance. Either might be interested in reports of lightsaber-wielding Force users in the outer rim.

Locke looked around. "We don't have time to take all of this equipment, maybe we can destroy it with a few explosives..."

"With all due respect," Armad said, "that would draw attention. I'm confident I can neutralize it in other ways. I'll make sure no information can be recovered from them. To the authorities, this will be just a collection of junk leftover by pirates."

"Good thinking," Sang agreed.

"Yes," Locke said. "Now, let's get out of here, move to this city, and find a place to finish this fight."

Icy wastelands north of Kasador
The cold sapped their strength, eating away at the warmth within them. Zachary felt it the most, the Savant drew his cloak around him and focused on the task at hand. Garbled orders had come over the comms, ordering the Sadowans into the city of Kasador to seek shelter and regroup. Armoured troops would be a pain to hide, but the Force Users could blend in more easily. Well, some of them anyway.

Zachary glanced over at his companion, Ophelia, the Aedile of Marka Ragnos sniffed the air, savouring the scents of sweat, blood and adrenaline. The Sithspawn had been altered, experimented on after a run in with Darth Ashen. The creature, for the lack of a better word, had relished the slaughter.

“We need to move, Ophelia.”

The deformed Sephi stared at her compatriot, her razor sharp teeth glistening as she smiled. “More death?” she enquired.

“I sincerely hope not.” Zachary replied.

The Raider looked crestfallen, “A shame, I was enjoying myself.”

Zachary’s reaction was distaste and revulsion at her words. Ophelia had never been the most friendly of Sadowans, but her transformation had made her worse than ever. The battle over the artifacts would move into Kasador where the shadows would hide them.

The Kiffar moved with purpose. Many of them had taken to the city to avoid attention and capture. It was a good notion and a sound tactical move, but there was one problem. Most of them stood out in the crowds. They might as well have been wearing bright neon lights strapped to their backs. That wasn't the case for him.

In truth, this was a pleasant surprise for Jorm Na’trej. Those Imperium sticks in the mud would better suited to fight as rank and file. Standing here, in this city pulsing with life, was fun. Here, he could strive.He continued on his way, pausing now and again to adjust his coat, ensuring that he could draw his .48 Enforcer as quickly as possible should he need to.

It was clear that Scholae Palatinae needed to get off planet. The artifacts they had claimed were a good prize - dead Sadowans an added bonus -but Jorm would not settle for a job half done. All the artifacts should be theirs, should be his. And the Sadowans, they needed to die. They deserved to die.

He brushed by two police officers who were moving through the streets so close together they could have been a single individual. Their eyes were wide, suspicious of all they saw, so focused on looking, that they failed to see him lift one of their comms and stuff it into his pocket when he pushed by.

Now he would have all the intel he needed. He could be one step ahead of them, know what they knew. With that behind him, he turned his mind to the Sadowans. There was no way he was going to let them leave Mygeeto alive.

Blaster fire screamed around them, the bolts impacting upon the walls and ground. Scarlet was hunkered down behind a makeshift barricade, cradling a blaster pistol. Beside he were two Warhost troopers that had made it to Kasador with her. They hadn’t gone far into the underground city before they had been made out to be outsiders. Security forces had chased them into the under-warren network of back alleys.

The Zeltron had taken her orders seriously, the request by her Consul to not use her lightsaber was foremost in her mind. She had borrowed a blaster from a Palatinaean stormtrooper whom no longer needed it. The chase into the undercity had cost them one of her companions, Corporal Teepo had stayed to slow down their pursuers. He had bought them a couple of minutes, but the unfamiliar territory had found them trapped in a dead end.

Sergeant Uweol and Trooper Vand were beside her, firing back at the local authorities. “We won’t last long here, ma’am.” Uweol shouted over the sound of the blasters. “They’ll bring up heavy weapons soon.”

The Mystic’s mind ran through the possibilities ahead of them. Her skill with the Force lent itself to stealth. Drawing upon the power of the Force, she shrouded herself. Her sudden disappearance surprised Uweol and Vand.

“Where the feth did she go, Sarge?” demanded Vand.

“No clue, Vand.” Uweol replied, before returning fire once more.

“I’m here,” came the disembodied voice of the Zeltron, “Just blocking myself from view.”

Scarlet crawled out from behind the barricade, avoiding the blaster fire. Pushing herself up off the ground, she made her way along the alleyway towards their attackers, making her way slowly in order to avoid getting shot.

A series of explosions erupted in the group of peacekeepers. Smoke engulfed them, the fumes made them cough and splutter as it irritated their eyes ,noses and throats. Scarlet shielded herself from the smoke, the lack of wind within Kasador meant the smoke refused to dissipate. An armoured figure materialised, wielding a quarterstaff that they used to great effect. The staff smashed into the coughing officers. Scarlet watched as Darkhawk knocked out the last of the peacekeepers and began to advance down the corridor towards her.

He walked past her, the Force hiding Scarlet from view. Uweol and Vand rose up from behind the barricade, their rifles pointed at the Savant until they recognised him. “Sir, good to see you.”

“At ease, men. Good to see you too.” The Shadow preferred working alone, but when he had happened upon his fellow Sadowans, he couldn’t leave them to die or be captured. “Anyone else with you?”

“Yes,” said Scarlet as she let the cloak drop, appearing out of thin air. “Thank you for your assistance.”

Darkhawk whirled around and nodded at the Zeltron, “Good, let’s get out of here before anymore of the locals turn up. I was tracking some Palatinaeans who had some of the artifacts. We need to get them back.”

“Lead the way, then.” Scarlet gestured. The Mystic was determined to get out of this alive and crack some skulls along the way.

Round One Results

Current Points Earned

Clan Scholae Palatinae - 707.45
Clan Naga Sadow - 665.65

That's right! A meager 41.8 points separate our clans! We hoped for a close race and you lot do not disappoint! Incredible.

Prelude: Message in a Bottle - 43 Participants

1st - Blade Ta'var (CSP)
2nd - Darkblade (CNS)
3rd - Elincia Rei (CSP)
4th - Mune Cinteroph (CSP)
5th - Armad (CNS)
6th - Delak Krennel (CSP)
7th - Aul Celsus (CNS)
8th - Reiden Karr (CSP)
9th - Marcus Kiriyu (CNS)
10th - Darius Tu'kul (CNS)

Gaming: Prepare to Die- 13 Participants

1st - Blade Ta'var (CSP)
2nd - Delak Krennel (CSP)
3rd - Tasha'Vel Versea (CNS)
4th - Lexiconus Qor (CSP)
5th - Muz Ashen Keibatsu (CNS)
6th - Darkblade (CNS)
7th - Aul Celsus (CNS)
8th - Zachary O'Maille (CNS)
9th - Rosh Nyine (CSP)
10th - Landon Cruise (CSP)

Fiction: This one is MINE! - 21 Participants

1st - Blade Ta'var (CSP)
2nd - Darth Vexatus (CNS)
3rd - Aul Celsus (CNS)
4th - Qyreia Arronen (CNS)
5th - Dek Rott (CSP)
6th - Muz Ashen Keibatsu (CNS)
7th - Archangel Palpatine (CSP)
8th - Rosh Nyine (CSP)
9th - Ophelia Delacroix (CNS)
10th - Delak Krennel (CSP)

Graphics: Glittering Gold - 29 Participants

1st - Qyreia Arronen (CNS)
2nd - Zehsaa Hysh (CSP)
3rd - Scarlet Agna (CNS)
4th - Mune Cinteroph (CSP)
5th - Muz Ashen Keibatsu (CNS)
6th - Putra (CNS)
7th - Delak Krennel (CSP)
8th - Blade Ta'var (CSP)
9th - Elincia Rei (CSP)
10th - Kyo Akumu (CSP)

Poetry: The Heart of Conflict - 24 Participants

1st - Mune Cinteroph (CSP)
2nd - Darth Vexatus (CNS)
3rd - Lexiconus Qor (CSP)
4th - Macron Goura Sadow (CNS)
5th - Ophelia Delacroix (CNS)
6th - Muz Ashen Keibatsu (CNS)
7th - Qyreia Arronen (CNS)
8th - Aul Celsus (CNS)
9th - Dek Rott (CSP)
10th - Kell Palpatine Dante (CSP)

Acronym: The Truth in Names - 28 Participants

1st - Kor Vaal (CSP)
2nd - Aul Celsus (CNS)
3rd - Anigrel (CNS)
4th - Archangel Palpatine (CSP)
5th - Elincia Rei (CSP)
6th - Zachary O'Maille (CNS)
7th - Ophelia Delacroix (CNS)
8th - Scarlet Agna (CNS)
9th - Delak Krennel (CSP)
10th - Qyreia Arronen (CNS)

Trivia: The Combatants - 23 Participants

1st - Zachary O'Maille (CNS)
2nd - Elincia Rei (CSP)
3rd - Lexiconus Qor (CSP)
4th - Darius Tu'kul (CNS)
5th - Reiden Karr (CSP)
6th - Archangel Palpatine (CSP)
7th - Jorm (The Jester) Na'trej (CSP)
8th - Aul Celsus (CNS)
9th - Darkblade (CNS)
10th - Anigrel (CNS)

Round Two

Welcome to the beginning of round two for Shattered Ties a Scholae Palatinae - Naga Sadow Feud. As seen in the fiction above, our battle has attracted attention, and we now move into the city of Kasador, full of civilians and military personnel. Here the strategies change, and the stakes are raised. If captured our war threatens to out the Brotherhood before the Galaxy at large.

Round two will run from now through August 1st, and is open to all members of Scholae Palatinae and Naga Sadow. This is the final round of the feud. There are six competitions this round, just as in the first. Below you will find links to all the round two competitions, and the feud long ones.

Round 2 Gaming: A Brief Respite
Round 2 Fiction: Gone in 60 Seconds
Round 2 Graphics: Making a Stand
Round 2 Poetry: The Sting of Betrayal
Round 2 Trivia: The Shiny Baubles

Battle Plan: Wolves at the Door
Multimedia: The Chronicler
Run On


Excellent work in the first phase to both units! I had a blast helping with the first round and I look forward to all of your future entries.

Lets do this, guys!!

The final push, we can make it!

Good luck to everyone. I want to see a CNS victory sure but I hope to see excellence from all our combatants.

Let's push hard CNS! We will taste victory!

Congratulations to all participants. The competition is fierce, just how we like it!

Keep up the good work as we enter this last stretch.

cracks fingers and tears off warm up pants

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