The Battle of the Masserix Belt: An Empty Throne

Posted on Sun Apr 16th, 2023 @ 2:33pm by Thane & Bomoor Thort & Amare & Valavai Tarses
Edited on on Sun Apr 16th, 2023 @ 2:35pm

1,299 words; about a 6 minute read

Chapter: Chapter VI: The Last Bastion
Location: BSD Absolution, The Masserix Belt, Bastion Space
Timeline: Night (Day Three, Week Four) - The Battle of the Masserix Belt

OLD

Anthark had managed to limp himself over to the bridge viewport and propped himself up against the transparisteel, through which he could feel the tremendous strain of the ship as it fired turbolasers and tractor beams in an attempt to hold back The Enterprise as it fell like a dagger upon them. Mere moments ago, he had issued the order to abandon ship, for the little good it would do most of the crew. All his bridge officers understood the situation they were in and were resolving their fate in their own ways.

For the would-be-usurper of Bastion, he took his final moments to look out at the grand battle that rightfully should have resulted in his certain victory, cementing him as a true Imperial legend. However, like so much of galactic history, it was now to be dictated by a handful of Force mystics who know nothing of the proud struggle of true working sentients who earn their power in life and not through an aberration of birth.

As the shadow of death descended upon them and the thrum of their final desperate assault was replaced with the churning and warping of The Absolution’s hull, Anthark fixed his gaze upon Tarses’ limp, but surviving ship, wondering if the old dog knew he was selling his soul for this victory.


NEW


Outside the viewport of the Absolution, the gold-hued Enterprise, which had already been veering slowly towards the Servator, very sharply dipped down in a near-nosedive manoeuvre, the tip of its arrow-shaped superstructure piercing straight into the great silver hulk of Moff Edwoff Anthark’s Imperial Star Destroyer. Explosions immediately erupted from the point off contact, even as turbolasers that lined the ship continued to try in vain to save the doomed rebel ship from its destruction.

With one hand placed upon the deck, barely holding his weight up, his breathing rasping and strained, Thane carefully inclined his head upwards to regard the two Star Destroyers in the space outside. Blood ran down from his nose as he watched the Enterprise continue slicing into the Servator, with even the collision itself doing nothing to halt the momentum of the gargantuan capital ship. All along the spine of the ship, chain-reaction explosions were spreading and splitting the structure of the Servator, and Thane saw the command tower engulfed in flames for mere moments before it shattered. The few escape pods that were jettisoning from both vessels were unable to escape the chaos, as they were caught in the mounting destruction engulfing the mish-mashed vessels. Seconds later, as the snowballing damage reached more of the core and sensitive systems, as the Enterprise was almost entirely submerged in the bulk of the Servator, one of the reactors exploded. A bright light, barely reduced by the treated lens of the Absolution’s viewport, consumed both ships for a few brief moments, as the second reactor did the same, prolonging the blinding brilliance of the cataclysm.

Some seconds later, the light subsided to reveal innumerable boulders of debris from both Star Destroyers scattered and launched in all directions at varying speeds, some already making impact with the farther-flung asteroids. A visible shockwave could be seen shimmering through space towards the Absolution, but it was another wave of destruction, invisible and insidious, that first struck Amare, Bomoor and Thane, as they were each overwhelmed within the Force with the immense loss of life that had simultaneously occurred.

At first, Thane felt faint, and did not register the physical shockwave that actually buffeted their ship, nor the commands being bandied around them to manage the impact or its effects. It was not the largest nor most sudden loss of life that could have occurred galactically or historically, but it was significant and it was close, brought about by the intervention of him and his allies, and the greatest unnatural loss of life Thane himself had ever witnessed or been present for, let alone responsible for. The sensation was largely intangible; it was pervasive and, at first, uncomfortable, thinly alike to the feeling what might experience as they fell from a very great height. He physically shuddered and gasped, barely maintaining the footing his pressed hand permitted, as he was forced to consider the potential and power of each existence that, just moments before, had been a part of the energy field of the universe they were all tied to.

But, at the same time, it was – he dared to consider – exciting...intoxicating. It took a focus that almost eluded him for Thane to not indulge in this second, sinister sensation he was drawn to, to simultaneously admire the effects of their damnable gambit and the glory of the power they wielded, of the loss they had wrought with their sheer will and consciousness. The nascent Dark Lord closed himself to the allure and summoned strength back to himself, withdrawing from the Force and bringing himself back to the present as he pulled himself back up to his height. He wiped the blood from his nose with the sleeve of his tunic and regarded his friends first, paying no further mind to the destruction outside nor the Imperials surrounding them.

Wheezing and gasping for breath on the floor beside him, Bomoor’s hump rose and fell with a staggered motion, with seemingly even the act of drawing breath taxing his muscles greatly. With trickles of his own crimson blood weeping from the mouths on both sides of his neck, he forced himself to look upwards and observe the still billowing fireball that spewed forth from the collision. He too could sense the countless lives lost, perhaps even more so than the Caanun and the realisation caused his breathing to halt altogether for a moment, before a choking cough brought his attention back to his ailing physical body.

The Ithorian propped himself up slightly with one arm so that he could turn and meet Thane’s gaze, also spying Amare close beside him. Against the bright wave of light from the viewport behind him, the former Consular’s eyes were darker than Thane had ever seen them to the point where they seemed more like endless chasms. Thane could see Bomoor’s mouths quivering as if to speak, but he only managed a dry cough once again.

For her part, Amare was no worse for wear, such that the pain she felt throughout the Force ritual pushed tears from her ears mixed with blood. Her auditory canals were ringing whilst the whole length of her back felt sore and raw as if she had just been flayed by her dead husband's shock whip all over again. She barely had enough strength to see the two starship collide into one another before she sank to floor riddled with heavy nausea and a nasty headache.

As she battled against her own inner weakness, she began to feel a stirring in her body. On her knees, she looked at her sweaty palms and saw a turquoise-hued surge of energy move from her arms to her fingertips beneath the skin, then she briefly saw small globs of liquid rise briefly from her hands, and the stirring within surged eagerly. She sensed the azoth was about to put her into involuntary stasis again to help her heal. She balled her hands into fists and closed her eyes tight, willing it to stop. Now was not the time to show such level of weakness in front of the crew, especially Thane. When she turned to check on her two masters, that was when her hearing started to clear and she heard the moaning and agony behind her...

TBC

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