Dominion A Taste of Things To Come | NIO Dominion of Borosk

[Irveric Tavlar]

// IMPERATOR // 1st "Punished" Legion
// OBJECTIVE // BLUFOR
// FOCUS // Darth Bellum

---

---

---

<"Roll out air superiority, I don't want Vexen getting the drop on us."> Tavlar ordered as he peered over the holomap. The use the explosive traps to block the way was...expected, even if the result as far more devastating than he anticipated. Fortunately, only the droids taking up the vanguard seemed to be the ones caught in the explosion. As the infantry continued a dogged advance toward Vexen's position under cover of the supporting Cataphract tanks who set a priority target down on the source of the EWEB blaster fire with their turbolaser turrets and their side mounted laser cannons traced a tail of the aerial support droids wherever they would emerge from.

<"Set down a creeping barrage cutting through this latitude."> Tavlar barked out, tracing a line on the holomap from where on his right flank the turbo tank was immobilized, assuming the very same to be set down the central and left facing corridors. All the while giving the go ahead signal to Major General Treicolt's formation. Deploying their compliment of stormtroopers onboard APCs under the cover of faux load mass drivers hoping to trigger the explosives in pointed anticipation as Stormtroopers began to take up positions clearing out the buildings flanking the pathway of the main assault to cover the approach of the armored column shrouded in smoke cover. Awaiting word from the air support fly over hoping to bait Vexen's own air cover or thwart anything he had scrambled to thwart Tavlar's assault as to what they'd be up against or if the explosives set down to halt the advance would be set off from the preliminary bombardment.

It was a precarious dead lock as Tavlar aired caution in revealing the whole extent of his planning, hoping for Vexen to unravel more and more of his before he fully committed - keeping just enough forces taking up buildings flanking the central corridor to hold it down as troops contested Vexen's around the turbo tank to his right and he primed a full scale assault to his left. Banking on the Imperial Knights to deflate the internal integrity of Vexen's fortification to jostle target priority he awaited a far clearer signal of the pace of the battle near the former Pyramid of Military Command.

Beyond immobilizing Tavlar's most potent asset, something which he'd hope to bait Vexen into dedicating more firepower into he'd certainly had an edge on the Imperator as baring witness to the Anzati's tactics made the otherwise brazen Tavlar far more careful and meticulous in his actions, his doctrine embodying several more moving parts than it did on Kintan or Mandalore.

PAGE CLAIM

​

 

[Avernus]

OBJECTIVE I - REDFOR
TAGS: Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt | Ravraa Vyshraal | Belisarius

Avernus' gloveless hands shot upwards, palms facing outward. Each of the stun-bolts absorbed into either of his palms as his hands quickly and erratically changed positions to nullify them. The thud and subsequent hissing of each nullified stun-bolt echoed off of the many durasteel walls of the mock-city that had been manufactured for this exercise. With a shake of each hand, he snuffed the residual smoke that emitted off of each of his now even redder than usual palms.

As the grenade landed between the two of them, Avernus acted quickly, grabbing the fabric of his right shoulder with his left hand and pulling abruptly. The black robes tore away from his body and swirled upwards, obscuring his head in a spiral of dark fabrics. Tame had been a word that his apprentice had used earlier, but there was nothing tame about the garments beneath the robes, or the jewelry that also hid beneath them.

He tried to focus on a point near him and pull himself through the force and to that point out of the grenades area of harm, but the sudden deployment of the grenade coupled with his fledgling familiarity with teleportation made that nigh impossible. The stun grenade popped, assaulting the Pureblood's ears with a sudden concussive resonance that devolved into a simple ringing. Thankfully, the clothes in front of his face managed to shield his eyes from the worst of the flash.

In a disoriented sway, he shoved the black cloak forward with a force push, sending it towards Lyra's charge. In the same motion, he relied on his feelings to tell him where to go. He took a step to the side, out of her line of charge. He pivoted forty-five degrees on his heels and stuck his leg out in her path, making a sneaky attempt to meet her bull rush with a simple trip.

 

[Tarrik Kestis]

Objective: Redfor
Nearby: Vaulkhar Imperial Warlord Zovesa Galahad Degore



The Inquisitor gave the Knight a smirk raising his blade in a subtle bow to his opponent. It would be unlikely that the Sith would show such pleasantries. But for now, he didn't see why the gesture wouldn't hurt. He quickly adopted back into the more elegant Makashi stance. With the blade close to one hand. He was careful of his hulking foe. The way his opponent was it seemed as if the stormtrooper looking Knight could quickly bash through his defenses. He knew the simple purpose of Form V was to quickly dominate your opponent with brute force. He would not allow the Knight to get a chance to go on the offensive.

Quickly he moved to strike at him. One hand on the blade, and one hand by his back. His stance both legs wide open in a steady and rock-like stance. Striking at his enemy with the same elegance, moving to strike with an impaling move to his chest, quickly changing the sequence following with strikes towards his head, and down to his lower torso. Moving with grace trying to not give the Knight the chance to strike at him.

Moving with the Force guiding his actions and movements, trying to get the Knight to stagger from his attacks. Even with the Force guiding his actions. He moved swiftly using the pain from his own body to help gain an edge. With the dark side, he hoped that the Inquisitor would have a better advantage to his light sided cousin. So far his intent was to test his defenses not wanting to use all of his tricks at once. He wanted to see what his foe would do first, and then depending on the reaction, he would move accordingly. In war, however, things would be very different.

 

[Asmus Omaand]

Asmus made a successful grapple, but found quickly that the other had wanted that outcome after the pair began trading elbows, headbutts, everything that could and would be traded in both a skilled engagement and a backroom bar fight. The anger that now rode Asmus was helping the adrenaline fueled drive to put this person down as the pair broke and yet continued.

His own group joined in watching the show, making their own calls and jeers while Asmus dropped back and took his stance once more. Cracking the knuckle dusters together, he dove back into the fight, not yet ready to throw in the towel. He was slowly starting to wear down however, the continued back and forth of control of the fight beginning to show as the pair of experts traded hits between them.

Mazrim Caide/Taim

 

[Mazrim Caide/Taim]

Taim Clashes with Asmus Omaand again, breathing hard. It seemed this was destined to end with one of them collapsing from exhaustion long before injuries. Taim slams a fist forward into Asmus' gut hard enough to crack the armor and ribs at the same time he feels a vicious hook connect with the eye of his helmet, shattering it and sending shards of reinforced plastic into his already destroyed right eye as his vision blacks out and both men collapse to the floor. through blurry vision he sees an officer walking up between the two groups of soldiers surrounding the downed captains, telling them the game was over. Taim barely listened, using all his remaining willpower to glare at Asmus from the ground. The game may be over here, but he already knew they'd be meeting on the real battlefield. And he would not let that one end in a stalemate. With that last defiant thought, he gives into unconsciousness.

 

[Khagan Harrow]

Far away from the action ...

The chrono read 27:18:28. The Force Corps Auxilia had been in the field since mid-day of the last local standard rotation. Cmd. Farwell covered his yawn with an elbow. His hair was dishevelled and dark rings had appeared underneath his eyes, which were staring half-lidded at no point in particular.

"Sir, you should get some rest. The L-T can take over while you get some shut-eye."

Farwell slowly turned to his subordinate, eagerly accepting the coffee she didn't offer.

"Command says we're here to defend this hill. Act as though it's live combat. We're expecting an attack ... " he looked at his chrono again, "fifteen hours ago and no one's answering our hails. I'm not going to let Karl outwait me. I know they sent him to lead OPFOR. I can tell, he's the only one who'd ever consider this unconventional tactic of outlasting your opponent. I just know it."

The subordinate's brow had raised during Farwell's brief speech. The determination - or perhaps sheer insomnia-induced paranoia - seemed to leave quite the impression. She shrugged and turned slowly to walk away.

Cmd. Farwell remained sitting on top of the makeshift barricades the siege corps had constructed around their objective. He blew on the coffee as he sat hunched over, curled into himself as he stared out at the empty fields. Karl was out there somewhere. He knew it. REDFOR would not lose to BLUFOR this day.

Several clicks further north the actual objective sat heavily contested by the other participants of the military exercise, REDFOR valiantly defending against REDFOR and winning handily, no doubt.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

​

Objective : BLUFOR
Command : Genesis Company
Focus : Avernus Belisarius Ravraa Vyshraal

---

---

He hadn’t simply set her flying, crushing her under the invisible force of one hand. Lyra doubted the fair start boded well for her, she really hadn’t planned the fight out to begin with. The woman didn’t know her opponent that well, she could goad him out but he’d have another card up his sleeve. Seething as the stun bolts were carelessly brushed aside with one gesture.

She let the rifle slip from her hands, the sling catching it as she brushed it back haphazardly. Warnings flashed across her HUD and she tucked her head into the crook of her armor as the grenade went off. The audio dampeners registered a faint pop and the flash rolled over the screen, the impact wasn’t shavit compared to a thermal.

Dropping her arm, when she glanced up she was met with a flash of black robes, the fabric smacked into her, obscuring her vision. A touch of confusion washed over her before she realized what it was. Twisting her body, her boots skidded across the cement activating the repulsors leaving scorch marks in their wake.

One arm flailing, tearing down the robes as she stumbled to a halt, catching on his leg-sent toppling over the road. Betrayed by her own momentum. One hand came down smacking into the stone below as she blindly caught herself, plates scraping and screeching as she rolled; the whole twist disorienting. Two beats across the street, she ripped aside the robes, craning her head as she locked on the Sith; blank visor reflecting his own image. He never failed to disappoint, Tarrik Kestis would be receiving a live update on this disaster of outfit.

Avernus would never take anything serious would he?

The repulsors hissed and spat as Lyra howled behind her helmet as she threw herself back to her feet in seconds. She just had to buy enough time, and getting one hit in on him would be vindicating. Squaring up against the Sith Lord as she rose, propelled forward by the thrusters, she reeled back her good arm throwing a barbaric punch.

 

[Darth Bellum]

​

K o r _ V e x e n

| Location | REDFOR - Hold the Line​

| Focus | Irveric Tavlar / Lucien Dooku ​

​

Vexen pushed off the holotable as he fixated his gaze on the Cataphracts digitally displayed on it. A series of red triangles were rapidly passing over them and heading off to the distance, slowly banking off to the sides as they began to fly back towards the Cataphract line and approaching BLUFOR infantry, the bulk of the Lancet aerial droids coming in for an attack run of ion shots that had replaced their traditional blasters and concussion cannons for this exercise, a barrage of ion shots carpeting the streets as they attempted to disable the tanks from barraging their position. A pair of squadrons would break off to handle a potential counter-attack from the air. Their creeping barrage would be ineffective in detonating any buried explosives if there were any, simply because the depth at which Rumblers typically burrowed at were far too below the surface for surface level disturbances to trigger them. An effective tactic though for future battles where the field would be rigged with mines.​

​

---​

​

The stormtroopers and droids currently entrenched in the buildings suppressing the right flank with the trapped turbotank would be maintaining a firm grip on the situation to stifle the incoming troops from the right flank. That was until a unit of jetpack equipped troops led by Dooku suddenly arrived to contest the flank. The pressure was alleviated from the troops on the streets as those in the buildings began to turn towards Lucien and his troops. Their numbers would soon be reinforced as the squadrons of Lancet droids that broke off from the main aerial division arrived, transforming into their humanoid forms and hovering in the air as they began to fire on the jetpack troopers and on the streetside troops. Despite their efforts, the stormtroopers stationed in the building Lucien had assaulted were more or less overwhelmed, leaving the other squads scattered across the other buildings to retreat and pull back out of view.​

​

---
​

Vexen's gaze was shifted from flank to flank as the situation continued to unfold. His defensive line was holding, if barely with the shields maintaining protection from any ranged sieging while the EW-ALEs and his troops were keeping anything that managed to get within the shields head's down. He was waiting for an opportune time to seize an opening, several squadrons of Rumblers filled with troops, just resting on the edge of the incoming BLUFOR's lines. Once they pushed too far in and the tanks had been neutralized, they would dig for the surface to pincer the advancing BLUFOR from behind, thus trapping them between Vexen and them.​

 

[Belisarius]

​

MEMORIES
TASK FORCE HELL HOUNDS
IN THIS SIGN, CONQUER

There wasn't much Belisarius recalled from that day at the sim, dropping on Avernus' position except for his lingering feeling of thankfulness that it was all just a war game.

He'd lost nearly all his men under his command that day. It was a failure from all sides that turned into a Pyrrhic victory. Preliminary intelligence reports were completely inaccurate to the force remaining there and their fortifications. Was it excellent counter-intel work by Avernus' forces deceiving their own intelligence gatherers or was it, as Sgt. Vukic believed, a betrayal from within? Belisarius could not recall the recap of the battle.

It was a butchery in all of its forms.

They weren't able to breakthrough fast enough even with the element of surprise leaving them stranded for hours in a status quo between both fighting forces. Task Force Hell Hounds ran out of ammo and supplies. Captain Belisarius then gave the bayonet command and his troopers charged selflessly into the firing squads of Avernus' soldiers. It was the last gamble. All in.

And they had managed at a cost so high no one should ever pay.

A victory in the archives of the New Imperial Order.

A loss in Belisarius' books.

He thanked all that was holy that it had been merely a simulation.

End.

Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Avernus

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

// IMPERATOR // 1st "Punished" Legion
// OBJECTIVE // BLUFOR
// FOCUS // Darth Bellum | Lucien Dooku

---

---

---

Tavlar shouldn't have expected anything different. Wargame or not, this battle might've been one of the most precarious to command. The chess match on Kintan was a series of very simple and very effective maneuvers against the Silver Jedi Order after he'd reclaimed his initial staging ground, even if still the result on a strategic scale was defeat.

Mandalore was similar with his armored formations enveloping and encircling the rebelling Mandalorians as they sought to break through to the capital of Sundari where once they reached it faced the toughest and most important fight of their lives, one a majority of the Network's Mandalorians there did not return from. Kor Vexen was a different creature. An Anzat battlemind who'd been at the forefront of the machinations to the Sith Empire's vast conquest and now he was at the opposing end willing to break it all apart.

Even still - in this engagement they were not the allies they'd been before. Tavlar's usual brute force line of thinking to which an immense combined arms assault maneuvered and broke enemy formations into several easily destroyed fragments barely did him any favors here. He'd had his most potent armament immobilized by a devastating trap, luckily enough the formation riding the right facing approach would hold well enough to continue its advance unto the fortified REDFOR positions.

The supporting line of Cataphracts would set down into their siege position to lay down bruising fire toward the source of the cracking blaster bolts from the EW-ALE positions beyond the clouds of smoke which served to conceal the advancing droids and stormtroopers as they crossed the gap set by explosive trap, using the position immobilizing the turbo tank to consolidate waves of infantry spearheaded by the heavier battle droids to try and take most of the forward damage accompanied by the arrival of Lucien Dooku's jump trooper detachment.

Cautious in their approach up BLUFOR's left corridor the Cataphracts and AT-TDs approached in a series of layered 'keils' and then the rumblers ruptured from the earth to pincer down on the main armored formation they'd erupt in an envelopment of the emerging forces as the powerful armament of the AT-TDs solely meant to contest other armored vehicles run out in thunderous cracks to try and punch through Vexen's transports.

A slog, one that was inconclusive as of this moment. Maybe it was reassuring that neither of the main two commanders had such a substantial advantage over the other, a slight reprieve in indecisiveness.

 

[Tarrik Kestis]

Objective: Duel the Imperial Knight
Vaulkhar Galahad Degore Imperial Warlord Zovesa

Even with the chaos all around them. In this world ever closer to their goal. Even in the midst of combat between the clashing forces simulated to be the Sith vs the Imperials. Tarrik's thoughts seemed to dawn on what lied ahead. With some sweet subtle satisfaction. What lied ahead would be death and pain unlike any other. Some may not even survive or come back from the coming War. That was the purpose of War, wasn't it? To fight for a cause that you believed in. Something worth dying for, even as he fought the Imperial Knight before him, even as the forces they portrayed struck with vicious brutality as if a pack of Kath hounds striking as one in a fight for survival. In the end on this battlefield through these war games. Be it Force User or not. They all had shared something in common. Imperial Knight, Inquisitor, Stormtrooper, even the Sith Defectors. They shared something that bounded them all for life. In their hearts of hearts, they were all Imperial one and the same.

Even now Tarrik felt stirrings of what would come. Some of them may not even survive the war. Those that do would not be the same. They would be changed by the horrors and trials of the war against the Sith. Even if they earn the independence and freedom they so longed wished to achieve. More importantly a galaxy without the likes of the Zambrano. What was it the Sith always said: "Through Victory, my chains are broken, The Force shall set me free." If one way to describe it Tarrik could look at it in a different interpretation. Perhaps the Zambrano ilk like a cancer had infected the Sith. Bounding them in chains. Perhaps the New Imperial government would release the Sith from their shackles and show them the Force had other plans. Even now he knew that the Force always had a hand in things. The Force guided this group, and through it's will he was confident they would prevail.

Even in all his visions of the future, in the clarity of the chaos he knew that in the underlying truth of it all. This was their fate, their destiny and there was no turning back. Even if he should die even with the help of the War Games. He would live on as one of those that dared to question the Sith Empire, to rise up and make a change. For the purpose of the New Order was to provide a better way than to be endless fodder for Carnifex and his brood. In the end it would not be their end they would meet. But Carnifex would die one way or the other. In the midst of the duel a small vision came to him. That one day be it from within and without the battlefield. He saw the Force grant him a vision. A vision of where the influence of the New Order stretched far and wide and that Tarrik died not in agony in the midst of battle but with a smile on his face.

With the destruction of the Sith Empire, Brothers, Sisters, Sons, Daughters of the New Order would know true freedom. Freedom to make the stars and their fate as there own. That is what had kept him going even in the cloudy and misguiding visions the Force may grant him. A single phrase spoke to him.

Long live the New Order!

 

[Avernus]

OBJECTIVE I - REDFOR
TAGS: Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt

Everything was like a blur. Every sound seemed distant beneath the overwhelming ringing in his ears. His eyes may have been spared from the grenade, but his ears surely weren't. The sudden concussive blast had rendered him nearly deaf, and almost unable to orient himself as his inner ears struggled to keep him balanced. He didn't hear Lyra howl as she came toward him, but he did hear and feel the crunch of his nose as her punch made contact with all of its repulsor-enhanced momentum.

The Pureblood stumbled backward, nearly falling over as he attempted to keep his footing. The electrum jewelry that covered his nose had broken inwards, cutting into the exterior. He lowered his hand, looking at the blood that covered it, crimson of crimson. With a waterfall of blood pouring from the middle of his face he looked up to Lyra. He'd been forced to orient himself at this point, the pain from his nose overruling the stun from the grenade earlier.

His eyes widened, nostrils flared, and upper lip began to curl. The blood rolled down into his mouth, covering his teeth in a yellowish visage of blood and saliva. The look in his eyes shifted immediately as he stared his apprentice down. His face was nearly unrecognizable as his entire visual presence changed inexplicably. The rage inside of him could be felt by a blind and deaf lobotomy patient, and it could surely be picked up by Lyra.

The music in his head began to play as he used his forearm to wipe the blood away. His presence had now shifted from lax and facetious to malicious and bloodthirsty. Taking a quick step forward, he channeled his rage into his arm her it condensed into plasmatic hatred. He threw his hand forward toward the visor of her helmet, using the force to propel himself with much more force than a man of his size should have reasonably been able to muster. The lighting that condensed into his fingertips discharging toward her in unison with the palm strike. A force-powered bellow of rage emitted from the Sith, one that was beyond what any humanoid should have reasonably been able to produce.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

​

Objective : BLUFOR
Focus : Avernus

---

---

The Commander was equal parts wild animal and desperate, ice filling her veins the moment she felt the crack. The satisfaction no longer outweighed the risk and reality set in quickly. Every painstaking harsh line that made the city, to the blood on her gauntlet screaming at her keenly aware. Lyra hadn’t forgotten he was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, it was only time to pay the price for making him bite. Her breath came out in raggard bursts when she sent him stumbling back, catching herself sloppily on the cement; knee plates scraping the surface. The echo of blaster fire ricocheting from the surrounding streets as the squad was fought to gain ground, the smoke from the Nulls drifting over.

A quick assault, trying to think fast on her feet. If she could prevent him from-Her next step faltered as she took one look at his expression. Between the gore and the look in his eye.. It was worse than the overwhelming hum of Korriban’s valley, she wanted to shy back in the face of this rage. It rolled over her like a blanket, Lyra had hesitated very few times in the face of a fight but her fist lulled before her. There would be no jab, no rapid hands to catch as it was her sense of flight that won out. She rolled her weight back on the ball of her heels. Joints creaking as she was about to throw herself aside before he smote her down in the street.

“Moneus tak-”

Her words were ripped from her tongue. She was vaguely aware as her head snapped back under his palm as the electric shock burned and every sensor began to scream and overload. It encompassed her, overwhelmed and set her body on fire with pain. Her body seizing and thrashing, the absolute force he had wielded against her rained down upon her, grinding into the cement of the city with an ugly snap she was scre-eching, still trapped in the cartel hole.

A small team of them had been sent in to clear out the complex and bag a target, just a small crime circle to snuff out. Intelligence reports had been incorrect though, and they had underestimated the muscle. Lyra was laid low there amongst the broken glass and debris. One hand down, the other twisting and scratched at the behemoth's foot, trying to tear his leg off. She was suffocating under his weight and the alien, her mouth gaping open like a fish but she couldn’t breath in. Kriffing hell she didn’t even know what he was but he towered over her and was content to watch her die gasping. Warnings were flashing on her screen and then she felt the crack, her diaphragm couldn’t take it and something broke. That’s when the blood gurgled at the back of her throat.

“Back up, back up-my posti-” she cried, wailing for help.

Blaster fire echoed in the distance but no one heard her. Blood spotted the HUD now and the weight only mounted against her. Lyra kicked and thrashed her legs trying to find an angle on the demon, her crushed hand limp and useless-reaching for the rifle she’d never make. They were supposed to have gone home after this, Lyra was supposed to go back to Bescane. A choked scream bubbled behind her helmet, even with a cracked visor she could have read off the serial number from here.

This is my rifle...Without my rifle, I am useless…​

She stopped fighting him, choking on her own blood. This was how she died, silenced and powerless. Her legs slumping to the tile in defeat and her own screams reverberated inside the helmet; she was terrified. It was unnatural what followed, when her gauntlet flexed, a blur when she reached not for the gang-men but for the gun. Demanding it, pulling it through the very air with no less intent than absolute evisceration in mind.

I must shoot him before he shoots me. I will ...​

The weight of the weapon was nothing compared to the man’s, and his eyes doubled wide the moment the blaster hit her hand; the solid click resounding. Her finger slid over the trigger and the rest that followed, a hazy memory.

It was only hours, or maybe seconds as the electricity rolled over her, one vague glance she was just another trooper flailing under the cruel hand of their Sith overlords. A scene committed a thousand times in the Empire’s name. Lyra’s muffled howls could be heard, armor rattling and body twitching wildly as she tried to remember where she was, battling the throes of the pain wrought down upon her. So much for a simulation, but it had ceased to be a game.