The Saving Grace: Battle of Tython

The Battle of Tython. Wild space entrance. 162 ABY

IC: Bhaal the Necromancer and his Demiri death cult followers.

Location: // The Saving Grace Command Frigate, DarkSider fleet (allied vessel), assembled over planet Sunspot, Tython system //

“Mmm.. my lord. I don’t mean to question you… but are sure this is wise?” Asked Saravok, nervously cowering before his Master who sat on the bridge's main command chair aboard the commandeered Alliance Frigate of war. The small Demirian man's voice was scratchy and unusually high pitched for a male. His eyes and facial features were hidden behind the shadow of his cultist robe's overly large hood pulled over his head. Yet, even now, he keeps his gaze firmly fixed on the floor of the raised platform in front of him.

“You do mean to question me Saravok. Or you would not dare to speak.” Responded Bhaal coldly. As always, the nearly seven thousand year old Necromancer's voice, even at normal pitch, rippled outwards like a choir of hundreds speaking all as one.

“Fff…forgive me master… I only wonder why we are fighting? when instead we could just go to Tythons surface right now. The Je’daii have all but abandoned the planet in order to defend it. If there is an infinity gate as rumoured, we could search for it without concern. Infiltrate their secrets while the Darkshield and the Je’daii kill each other out here.” responded the leader of Bhaal’s sect of loyal cultists.

“Very well, I will indulge you.. Your recent successes have afforded you this. But know this Saravok… servant... worm. If you question my intentions once more, I will remove your eyes from your skull and rip out your tongue.“ Replied the undead Echani as he looked out over his bridge crew. Over a dozen captured alliance personnel and several Demiri cult members manned the starship's various control stations. The blue carpeted floor of the bridge was covered in large areas of deep brown blood stains and many chairs and several workstations were severely damaged and also blood stained to different degrees. Evidence of a very gruesome and horrific capture of the vessel and its crew several standard year's ago. Before this blasted galactic civil war. Before the Darkshield. The alliance members who manned the controls were now the only remaining original crew that still drew breath. Spared only due to the fact they could serve Bhaal in life better than in their deaths. The same could not be said for the others of the ship's crewmen.

The original captain of the Saving Grace, Commander Sonya was slain just metres from where Bhaal sat now and by his own hand and even though her reanimated body still wandered this starship's metallic halls, she, like the rest of her alliance crew and their vessel, were now very much under the Necromancers' undeniable command. The deceased Alliance Commanders body was raided almost immediately of its right eye by Saravok to assist in passing and then resetting the ships retinal scanning security overrides for Bhaal, his followers and then also a very rare, honoured guest of Bhaal’s. A young woman.. A hunter. She was beautiful with silver hair and pointed ears and was powerful in the force even as an new apprentice to her moronic imbecile of a Master. A man so blind he gave her identity up to Bhaal for free over a drink at the local Cantina... Yet, she had betrayed Bhaal. Tricked him and robbed him of their agreement before fleeing from Dathomir and leaving him stranded with the Nightsisters.

“We will join the war against the Je’daii..” continued the Sith Necromancer, “ firstly because to find my Mistress.. To find Manea Nephthys… we must gain ongoing access to the planet. Not just for a day or so.. but our search may take months or years even.” He continued. “And I believe the Sith, under Darth Falkor, will win this battle. Gifting the Sith and I the access I need. Secondly.. and much more importantly.. I can feel that the Nightwitch is here… the residue of her life force still calls to me even now after the unbreakable mark has disappeared.” Bhaal touched his right forearm where the purple mark once was. The same one his guest had also worn for a time. “She is here to defend the Je’daii…I can feel it. If she dies, I may not get another chance.” He finished cryptically, his black pupil less eyes fixed on the viewing screen near by his seat. On it, in the far off distance small specs of moving dots merged and slowly organised themselves on the screen. It was the Je’daii and their ally vessels he knew, readying themselves for the battle to come.

“Chance, my lord? Chance for what?” asked Saravok, nervously raising his eyes to take in the full view of his master.

“Why, to capture her of course, and then to make her a second and more lasting offer.” replied Bhaal without looking away from the screen…

“Yes… of course my lord..” replied Saravok, narrowing his eyes as his Dark Masters meaning suddenly became clear to him.  “...she will make a fine apprentice.”

~~ two hours later ~~

“Master, the transport you instructed I look for has been identified on our scanners. It is breaking away from the main Je’daii flagship and the rest of the fleet.” said one of the cultists from behind a bridge command terminal. A woman, alive and in her forties, with dirty blond hair, blue eyes and mostly rotten teeth. Her skin was pink but her cheeks were dry and her skin cracked. “It is heading towards the Darkshield cargo vessel on its way back from Sunspot M’lord.” she continued. Outside, all round the Saving Grace the battle of Tython raged.

The Saving Grace Alliance Frigate had fared well in the conflict this far, its shields had absorbed amongst many others the attack of a large Federation cruiser and then its own heavy ion batteries soon disabled the vessel with return fire. Bhaal, opting not to expend his limited warhead stocks had then strategically sent a boarding party of undead alliance crew members who, once aboard the enemy starship, ripped through the Federation ranks killing everyone on board and leaving the huge vessel of war a ghost ship in no less than an hour. Now, his attention would move to his true target, the Huntress known as Ziyal. However the reason for her to go after the Darkshield vessel was unknown to him.

“Shieldssss are holding Masssster.” said a Trandoshan man wearing an alliance uniform from a station on the other side of the bridge.

“Good. Change heading to intercept the craft. All spare auxiliary power to forward shields.” commanded the Necromancer at once, pointing over at the woman who had spoken first as the sounds of random enemy fire hitting against the shields rumbled through the bridge.

“As you command master.” She responded, and within seconds the Saving Grace began to veer sharply as its heading changed course to intercept ROAR-1 and its crew. The manoeuvre displayed a completely new side of the battlefield on the bridge's main view port. In the distance, well past the surrounding chaos and to the left of the transparisteel window was the Devils payload, slowly making its way from Sunspot behind it and towards the gigantic Shadowbringer Dreadnaught which was in this field of vision, still out of view. To the far right, was ROAR 1. The old T-class cruiser zig zagging its way through the swarm of Darkshield small fighters with expert skill. Bhaal wondered why they would even care about one small transport. What was so important they would risk such a promising talent?. He would make sure he asked Ziyal, directly after he made her gut her own friends and then teach her how to raise them as slaves.

“Master, Lord Falkor has given instruction not to approach the vessel. All ships are to divert their fire from the area and clear the Devils Payloads flight path to the Shadowbringers defensive shield arc.” said a third crewman from yet another station. This one was clearly the bridge's main communications console and at it sat a Demirian man, also in cultists robes yet he was young. In his early twenties and quite attractive by comparison to the rest of the death cult members.

“Ignore that order.” snarled Bhaal with a clear annoyance in his voice “stay on target. I want that ship and the Huntress above all else.” “But Master… Lord Falkor has specifically…” Before the man could say another word Bhaal, Gatekeeper of the underworld, extended an open palmed hand towards the young man. Grabbing the communication officer with an invisible force grip, the man was pulled violently towards the Necromancer. The young males chair flipped end over end as he was ripped from it and by the time the cultists throat felt the cold pale fingers of Bhaals hand wrapping around it, the deep green blade of the White Wolf's lightsaber was already thrust deep into his chest and protruding out through the young cultists upper back.

With a thud, the dead lifeless body of the human man hit the ground as Bhaal deactivated his blade and stood from his captain's chair. The action alone reiterated his sole command of this vessel and its crewmen. Over at the empty communications desk, static edged orders were being repeated through the head mic that now swung loosely off its cord. Bhaal strode over to it, the orders for his ship to stand down and return to the main fleet became increasingly audible as he approached.

\*click\* Bhaal casually switched off the incoming communication switch with a flick of his index finger.. “Lord Falkor is not your Master. I am. Stay on course for the transport. I won't say it again.” He said loud enough for the entire bridge to hear, even over the sound of the large-scale space battle raging outside. His words were stern, and his resolve was ironcad. This was his order, and he expected all to obey.

“Yes Master, of course.” said the blond woman nervously, not daring to turn her eyes from her current task at hand. Bhaal returned to his command chair and sat down slowly, gripping each side of the arm rest so tightly his already scarred and pale knuckles turned white.

~\*~ several minutes later ~\*~

“Incoming Ion volleysss from the Je’daii flagssship have avoided our target M’lord. Sssshall we fire on them?'' asked Trandoshan from his station. “No” replied Bhaal, “the Je’daii are not looking at us, and I’d prefer to keep it that way as long as possible. It seems, they are trying to incapacitate the Darkshield vessel.” Suddenly the Je’daii plan became apparent to the Sith Necromancer. They weren’t looking to destroy the Darkshield transport making it’s way towards the Darksider Dreadnaught.. They were looking to take it by way of boarding. Just as Bhaal had taken out the large Federation Cruiser at the beginning of the battle.

“Darksssshield vesssle hasss taken ion damage M’lord. Sssenssors have alssso picked up another ssssmall Je’daii fighter incoming.. Ssssensorsss ssssay they are heading directly for the Sssshhadowbringer..” he continued, alerting Bhaal to Ripper 5 and its Je’daii pilot Rita Fuller. “Weaponsssss ssseem to be down..”

Suddenly, the bridge commander's private holoscreen that was positioned on the left armrest of Bhaals chair sprang to life. Through war instilled communication jamming static, was the crackled picture a very annoyed looking humanoid woman. She was near-human Bhaal could tell.. Similar to himself. She was pale and slim featured.. attractive even. Yet something was off about her Bhaal sensed. Even beyond her highly unusual head of half black and half white hair that resembled something one would see while viewing some postmodern art works from Naboos Capital.

“[static.].this…..[static]......rie to the Darksider ally vessel…[static]..Saving Grace…..[static] This is..[static]...Si..[static]…Knight Vanadis Zan. By order o..[static].............you mu..[static].... nd down now! Dark Lord Fal..[static]......or….[static]...onsequences.”

Bhaal balled his fist and slammed it down hard onto the small, chair arm mounted screen. Smashing it, and causing the interference garbled screen showcasing the woman to go eternally blank. He owed no allegiance to these Darksiders.. Nor to the Darkshield… he only owed his loyalty to her. His love.. His Master… She, that privately taught Naga Sadow Sith Sorcerery and who had once ruled alongside the likes of Sith pioneers such as Marka Ragnos and Simus… She was the very Master of Death itself… the dedicated student of the very first Dark Lords of the Sith Xoxaan and Sorzus Syn…The Dark Lady Manea Nephthys.

“My Lord… The access..” suddenly said Saravok in little more than a whisper. The small hooded man had been present the entire time, yet dared not to speak. Especially after one of his newest members had only been recently slain by their God of the undead forrelaying the commands of the Darksiders Highest ranking member present.

Bhaal did not cast as much as a sideways glance at his most devout follower as the shrill concerned voice met his undying ears.

“Time means nothing to Tython.. I will wait a hundred years.. a thousand.. if that is what needs be to return and explore the infinity gate. And when I do, so will Manea be waiting. Time does not concern us nearly as much as opportunity. And our opportunity to capture the Nightwhitch now shrinks quickly.. We must focus in order to capture the Sephi…Tython can wait. Get the girl!” He said coldly.. His eyes on the 2 small transports not far away now.. They were almost in range.

“Once we are in range of the Je’daii cruiser, activate the tractor beam… you are to take them alive.” the White Wolf added.

“Masssster, the Darkssssider vessssel… Sssssomething'ssss happening…MY LORD!! MASTER!! THE JE’DAII FIGHTER!!” shouted out the Tradoshan in a mixed collaboration of unbridled fear and utter surprise..

Suddenly, from across the very edge of the Saving Graces bridge viewport the single Je'daii fighter which was first picked up on the Command Frigates scanners less than forty five seconds ago was suddenly struck by a stray Darksider missile and had went into an uncontrolled barrel roll it's course now changed… It was now heading directly for the Darksider transport and ROAR-1. The Darkshpider transport, which was now… Somehow….becoming almost impossibly transparent to the naked eye asks if possessing some kind of advanced, hi-tech cloaking device was about to be subjected to an unstoppable kamikaze mission...

“Fire on the Je’daii fighter!! Take them out NOW!” yelled Bhaal... But it was too late……BOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!