Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Public A Trip To Vulpter

"12th Star Reaver Battalion"





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Intelligence reports indicate that a valuable Jedi holocron lies hidden in a secure the abandoned Imperial refinery on Vulpter, 12th Star Reaver Battalion duties are to recover it at all costs. Opposing forces and mercenary scavengers are already moving to claim it.


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The massive MT-2 dropship shuddered as its engines throttled down, settling onto a flat plateau far from the looming silhouette of the Vulpter refinery. Dust spiraled into the air, catching the harsh sunlight as the ramp slowly lowered. Lieutenant Kael Vos led Sky Razor platoon out first, Nemean armor clinking softly with each step, the soldiers spreading cautiously across the rocky staging ground. Above them, the dropship's hangar doors opened fully, and a squadron of T-65XN2 WolfX starfighters roared into the sky, engines flaring as they looped overhead in tight formations. A pair of Predator B-Wings followed, scanning the distant terrain and ready to provide overwatch should the situation escalate.

Vos activated his compact scanning device, projecting a holographic overlay of the terrain and surrounding structures. The map highlighted the distant refinery, the jagged ridges and boulder fields lying between their current position and the target, and possible approach vectors for future maneuvers. Every rock outcrop and shallow defile was noted—potential cover points, sniper positions, and choke points were all logged for Jedi Knight Dangal.

"All units, maintain formation. WolfX squadron, perimeter sweep. We're here to observe, not to engage yet. Keep eyes on the refinery and record everything. Nothing touches that holocron before we do."

Ahead of them, another element of Alpha Company had deployed from pairs of LAAT gunships, touching down on a forward rise several hundred meters closer to the refinery. The company was spread out and divided. Their positions were marked on Vos's holo-grid, a forward screen for recon and early engagement if needed.

The platoon fanned out over the plateau, forming defensive positions while Vos continued scanning. The MT-2 rested behind them like a grounded sentinel, engines cooling, its bulk a reminder of reinforcements ready to move once the order came. Every step, every sensor ping, and every potential hazard was meticulously recorded. Vos tapped his GARBR-5 against his armor, signaling the soldiers to stay alert. Ahead, the rocky expanse stretched toward the refinery, the soon-to-be battlefield waiting silently, jagged and unclaimed. Bravo platoon was already en route, landing before the rest, hopefully they would punish any resistance up ahead before they arrive.

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Laphisto

High Commander of the Lilaste Order
A Jedi holocron an artifact worth thousands to the right buyer was far more than a prize of credits to the Lilaste Order. To them, its knowledge held greater value than any fortune. Until now, the Order's Force-users had been trained almost exclusively through the guidance of Laphisto and Zinayn Zinayn their wisdom supplemented by what little could be shared between students. Even the Diarchs, Diarch Reign Diarch Reign and Diarch Rellik Diarch Rellik , had offered fragments of their own experience when they could. But such training was insular, limited an echo chamber of lived memory passed from one soldier to the next.

A holocron, however, was different. It was no mere repository; it was like introducing new blood into a stagnant bloodline, a spark of vitality into a fading flame. Within its crystalline matrix lay lessons from generations past, preserved with clarity untouched by time. For the Order, it represented revitalization, the promise of growth beyond the boundaries of their own knowledge. And yet, in a galaxy where knowledge was as dangerous as it was powerful, they knew such treasures seldom remained in the hands of those who needed them most. Too often, such things slipped into the grasp of profiteers, rivals, or enemies.

The Lilaste Order would not allow that. Whatever it cost, they would see to it that this holocron did not fall into the wrong hands hands which, all too often, had never been their own. Several kilometers from the foundry on the opposite side of the structure from where Kael Vos Kael Vos had touched down an Air'mar Assault Carrier descended through the haze. Its repulsors churned up dust as the vessel eased onto its struts, settling into place with the heavy finality of durasteel meeting earth.

The choice of ship had been practical more than anything else. With every Greh'ova-class assault ship recalled for refit, the alternatives were limited: either a Star Destroyer, far too conspicuous for the situation, or something smaller and less likely to draw unwanted attention. The carrier fit the need well enough. He had, however, managed to bring Tarians Sword with him. he assumed it would be more than enough all things considered.
Laphisto had been in motion the moment the carrier began its descent into orbit. By the time the landing sequence was underway, he was already in the hangar bay, moving to join his men. The battalion was well-prepared; squads had begun filing into the new LAHT transports, their crews running final checks, while the LAET/C gunships were already hard at work securing the walkers for rapid deployment. The atmosphere was efficient, purposeful soldiers and pilots moving with the sharp rhythm of a unit that had drilled this procedure countless times before.


The routine was interrupted by the crackle of the ship's comms. "Sir," the captain's voice carried through the bay, tense but steady, "we're picking up several starfighters in the area. Looks like GADF forces have been tipped off to the holocron's location. Do you want me to open a channel?"Boarding the waiting gunship, Laphisto frowned at the report. Around him, the rest of the battalion was already lifting skyward in coordinated waves, their transports rising from the carrier's decks with practiced precision. Overhead, the formation was shadowed by the distinctive angular shapes of two squadrons of Basilisk G-10 StarFighter's, their drives burning hot as they slipped into escort positions.

"Negative," Laphisto ordered, his tone clipped as he secured his harness. "Keep comm channels silent. Divert all auxiliary power to shields, weapons, and the War Forge. Shut down every non-essential system we'll cut our heat signature as low as possible. If they can't see us, they won't be tempted to hit our base of operations."

The LAHT infantry transports took the lead, steady and deliberate, while the LAET/C support craft fell in behind them, each carrying the battalion's walkers locked in place for deployment.

On the flanks, the Basilisk G-10 starfighters moved into position with practiced precision. Twenty-four in total, they spread outward, their drives burning bright against the void. Twelve swept ahead in a sharp V, cutting the path forward, while the other twelve mirrored them in reverse, forming a protective wedge at the rear.

Koa Ahina Koa Ahina
 



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Planet: Vulpter
Location: Northern Volcanic Fields, Exiting The M-2 Dropship
Platoon: Six
Squadron: 23 "Shadow Wing"
Mission: Secure the Holocron for GADF.

Status: Hired Active Duty, Private E-2 First Class

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Koa felt the rumble of the thrusters easing the landing as the MT-2 dropship made landfall. Each platoon had received their mission briefing hours ago, but something about deployment always had a way of blurring the details. Thankfully, with every operation Koa had been part of, he never had to take command. He was just a private. To others, he was fresh meat—uneducated and unqualified to be among the Alpha Command unit at all. Regardless, it was his grit and sheer determination that had earned him a place among some of the finest soldiers in the Galactic Alliance.

He was no stranger to combat, either. While many dismissed him as an outsider or mere "hired help," he cared little for their approval. So he stood silently, waiting for the hatch to depressurize and allow him to march forward with the others. His suit of armor showed its age, but it still got the job done. Green trim lined the interlocking mechanisms that encased his body, worn with scratches and chips from past deployments. It wasn't pretty, but it worked. Besides, the risk was worth it—this operation involved a holocron. Every soldier knew that in the wrong hands of a Force user, things could go south fast.

Koa considered this a good cause—fighting any opposition that could pose a far greater threat than the Galactic Alliance itself. Some would argue he was on the wrong side, but Koa knew there was no such thing in warfare. Still, he was careful with the jobs he took. If he could perform and prove himself here, he might just secure a spot in the Galactic Alliance Defense Force. Doubt lingered whenever he thought about it. He was capable, but not elite…not yet.

The hangar door unlatched itself as searing waves of heat from a vicious red landscape poured into the dropship. His helmet slipped downward as the buzzing electronic seals clamped shut, a vibrant green visor flashing to life as he stepped off the MT-2. The scans came back normal, though the active lava rivers spiked across his display. The old-fashioned readouts made him smile.


They don't make them like this anymore.

It was a simple, truthful thought. Every war brought change, but most of it revolved around technology or foreign biological weapons. The galaxy was dangerous, and Koa was just one man in a suit of armor. He couldn't stop everything—or everyone—but part of him found peace in his years of service, even with the less favorable outcomes. Still, he moved on, pushed forward, and refused to stop striving to be the best soldier he could be.

His metal boots clinked against the rocky terrain. Mountainous spires twisted skyward, while rivers of lava lit the horizon with reminders of the planet's volcanic activity. Vulpter was a nasty place, one Koa would've gladly gone his entire life without seeing. Still, thanks to the insulation and thermal conductors inside his suit, the oppressive heat barely touched him.

A voice boomed over the comms.


"All units, maintain formation. WolfX Squadron, perimeter sweep. We're here to observe, not engage—yet. Keep eyes on the refinery and record everything. Nothing touches that holocron before we do."

Koa stood at attention, watching the hissing smoke rise from geysers to the east. He paused, listening as the lieutenant spoke. He'd heard a few things about Kael Vos Kael Vos from the other men. Two things, in fact: one, Kael was a hardass; and two, he was highly respected by those in Platoon Six. The unit was solid and worked well together. Koa was part of Platoon Six, though not in the same squadron as
Sky Razor.

Instead, Koa had been assigned to Shadow Wing. They would split to Sky Razor's flank and take the high ground along the jagged peaks. High ground meant advantage, and in war, any advantage could save lives. Koa lifted his PGEM Submachine-Gun Slugthrower and began making his way toward the base of the treacherous ridgeline. Alert and ready, he peered through his visor, locking his aim down the weapon's iron sights.

The comms fell silent. Anticipation took hold.

Kael Vos Kael Vos | Laphisto Laphisto


 
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"12th Star Reaver Battalion"





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TAGS: Laphisto Laphisto , Koa Ahina Koa Ahina
LOCATION: Moving towards refinery will be entering next post


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A crackle over the comms shattered the momentary calm. "Lieutenant Vos, contacts visual," a WolfX pilot reported, voice taut with urgency. "We got company... transport with armor and they got two squadrons of Basilisk G-10s with them. They're moving fast from the opposite side of the refinery. Can't send coordinates for some reason...I'm having trouble picking it up." The ships far in view as a blur but he couldn't really pinpoint them. The piolet decided to push further leaving the perimeter and squadron to get in closer range.

Meanwhile Vos's jaw tightened. He crouched behind a jagged outcrop, rifle raised, eyes narrowing on the distant ridge. "Copy that," he murmured into the commlink. "Shadow Wing to Sky Razor. High ground secured. Watch your flanks. Maintain formation no premature engagements."

Molten rivers cast shifting shadows across the terrain, making the ridge seem alive. Vos toggled his rifle's targeting array, scanning carefully. From the rocks ahead, a small repulsorlift hum announced Z-M0 55's movement. The tactical droid floated forward, scanning the terrain with photoreceptors glowing, projecting a faint holomap into the air. Its onboard processors rapidly combined visual reports from the WolfX pilot with topographic data and historical tactical patterns.

"Projected resistance along northern ridge ETA: Unknown," Z-M0 reported in its calm, upbeat voice. "Optimal approach through eastern defile. Probability of detection from high vectors: 72.4%. Recommend delayed engagement until within effective range."

He exhaled slowly, letting the weight of the mission settle. "We're not here for glory," he reminded his squad silently. "We're here for that holocron. Nothing gets to it before we do."

The distant formation moved with precise coordination, protective wedges flanking the transports and walkers but none of it registered on Vos's holo-grid. He relied entirely on the WolfX pilot's report to map the enemy's approach. "They're organized and aware," he muttered quietly.

"Do not risk a firefight in the sky yet. Maybe we can take a clean shot at their armor when it lands, but until then, hold your fire. We need absolute control over this airspace" he said over comms. "Do you read me?" He waited in confusion for a response but then after a few moments of no reply from the pilot it could have only meant one thing. They were back in the dark with no eyes on the forces moving towards them.

"Alright where's the rest of alpha we need y'all on that refinery NOW Get moving!" he shouted. "Charlie make sure fire support is ready and able on my mark. Bravo keep guns high and low we don't know what we're expecting." He then turned around to his platoon as he continued with his orders. "Advance. And stay sharp this isn't a parade. Eyes open, trigger fingers ready, and cover each other. "Iron Claw" will stay here to secure a fallback position, let's go!"

Noticing Koa Ahina Koa Ahina he gave a slight nod. He didn't know him personally but having strong men fighting by your side was always a good feeling. The plan was to get men on ground at the refinery first, bravo should already be approaching the structure close enough for firing range. Bravo covering the east with Alpha split up pushing the middle and the west side.

"Let's make it back in once piece." he said to Koa Ahina Koa Ahina before pushing down a hill of rocks with the rest of the men.

Not too long after closing near bravo company, the group secured another ridge and just as they were about to cross over, a staccato burst of blaster fire cracked from the rocks below, scattering sparks across the ridge face. The first tracer shots didn't come from a aircraft, they were scattered, erratic, fired from hastily dug-in positions across the lava flats. Vos dropped to a knee, visor scanning. His HUD pinged multiple energy signatures. Too small to be armored transports, too irregular to be Basilisk squadrons. Z-M0's holo shifted, red markers blinking as it parsed the noise.

"New contacts detected. Classification: mercenary light infantry. Scans show mismatched armor, modified swoops, and paramilitary blasters. Estimated strength: platoon-sized element. Intent: harass and delay."

Vos's eyes widened. "What the hell! Why you wait till now to point that out!!"

Down the ridge, a half-dozen repulsor-sleds broke cover, jury-rigged turrets rattling off shots as they skated over the hardened volcanic rock. Behind them, scattered mercs advanced in loose formation, using the jagged terrain for cover.

"Sky Razor to all units," Vos barked into the comms. "Mercenary screen is moving to cut us off. Bravo, keep pressing to the refinery give em hell. Alpha, split fireteams and take their flank. Charlie, put suppressive fire downrange, force those sleds into cover!"

Vos's teeth then ground together as he raised his rifle, lining up a mercenary weaving between molten fissures before letting off a few rounds before hitting his target. He wanted his men set, overlapping lanes of fire. One quick glance to Koa Ahina as he gave a sharp nod again. With that, he slashed his hand forward.

"Advance! Fiiiiirreeeee! Iron Claw, hold the ridge! Alpha with me, let's clear these dogs out!"

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Laphisto

High Commander of the Lilaste Order
As the formation of gunships tore across the sky, the steady vibration of their repulsors reverberated through the cabin. Laphisto lowered his gaze to the glowing tactical display projected across his vambrace. With practiced precision, he began tapping along the interface, highlighting several of the walker transports in the formation.

marking them onto the map. Two of the artillery platforms were assigned to a clearing shielded on three sides by jagged hills, the natural terrain offering strong cover and elevation. If the fight escalated, their guns would provide the backbone of the battalion's fire support.Next, his attention shifted to the AAA walkers. He slotted their drop zones into the same clearing, bracketing the artillery pieces with anti-air coverage. Those cannons would be their lifeline against enemy starfighter runs or high-altitude bombardment.

The positioning wasn't perfect nothing ever was but it gave them the layered protection they would need to hold ground once the shooting started. Satisfied, Laphisto sent the finalized landing grid across the battalion's network. The map pulsed green as the orders locked into place.At least, he thought grimly, if things turned ugly, they would have both the reach to strike back and the teeth to survive the first storm.

Laphisto shifted nearly all but four of the infantry gunships, dragging their icons across his battle map and slotting them into a line between the foundry and Kael Vos' position. He keyed the comms, his voice carrying the hard edge of command.

"Crater Fangs, Storm Vultures, Night Claws forward defense. You've got walkers for anti-armor backup. I want machine gun nests set the second you hit dirt. Lay out LO-27R kill boxes, overlapping lanes. Get RPG zones marked if armor pushes in close, light 'em up and don't stop firing until there's nothing left to burn."

The net crackled back with confirmations short, hard-edged "Copy" after "Copy," the kind that came from men who'd done this before. Out the viewport, gunships began to break formation, banking low and wide, engines howling like rolling thunder across the broken landscape. Four Basilisk G-10 starfighters slipped off the wing, dropping with them, tight escorts riding shotgun all the way down. The line was moving into place, and soon enough, that stretch of ground between the foundry and the ridge would be nothing but a kill zone guns dug in, rockets waiting, soldiers braced behind smoking hulls and dirt.

This wasn't just another deployment. For Laphisto, it was a test not only for the Star Reavers, but for the Lilaste Order itself. Their doctrine had always rested on a simple belief: quality over quantity. Now, in the shadow of a refinery crawling with enemy eyes, they would see how well that belief held when put to fire. He trusted his men he always had and truth be told, they didn't need the full weight of the battalion to prove it.

A low rumble worked its way from his throat as he slung his rifle forward, checking the weight in his grip before holding it ready. Switching to the battalion's private channel, he spoke in the calm, even tone his men had come to know before battle.

"Alright, listen up. You know the drill. We're not here on official Diarchy business, so keep your heads. Do more good than harm. Remember these are GADF boys we're up against, not sworn enemies. We're not at open war with the Galactic Alliance, and I'd like to keep it that way. Don't tip the scale unless you're given no choice." There was a pause as he let the words sink in, the static hum of the comms filling the gap. Then, he closed with the only part that mattered."We get the holocron. We leave. Simple as that."

The gunship rattled as it banked lower, the repulsors groaning against the heavy air. From the cockpit, Captain Kaelen Drayk's voice carried through the squad net."Commander, we've got blaster fire ahead. GADF's already tangled up with an unknown element. Should thin their numbers."Laphisto leaned back against the bulkhead, the faint chatter of weapons in the distance barely audible even through the hull. He thought it over for a moment, his hand drumming against the rifle across his lap. Then he gave a slow nod.

That might work in their favor. So long as the Alliance didn't catch the Order directly exchanging fire with their own, it left room for a clean explanation. If questioned, they could play it off like any other contract just another job, hired in alongside whatever other mercenaries had shown up to the fight. The Order's reputation as soldiers-for-hire gave the story weight. It would stick.

"Understood," Laphisto answered finally, his voice low over the channel.. If it comes to questions later, Laphisto could claim they were contracted same as those mercs. Let them believe it.He adjusted his grip on the rifle and let the thought settle. the cover story wasn't elegant, but it was enough to keep the scales from tipping the wrong way.

Meanwhile, the three companies began to dig themselves into the jagged terrain of the mountain pass the stretch of ground predicted to funnel the Star Reavers on their approach to the foundry. It was an ideal choke point, and the Order wasted no time turning it into a fortress.

Machine gun nests were carved out between the rocks, barrels jutting from improvised cover with clear arcs of fire down the valley floor. Riflemen melted into the stone and shadow, helmets barely visible among the broken ridges. Engineers marked out choke zones for RPG fire, overlapping the fields already covered by the heavier weapons.

At the center of the line sat the Crater Fangs, their position braced and layered for sustained firepower. Out on the far edge, the Storm Vultures spread thin across the outer rocks, tasked with early contact. They weren't expected to hold the enemy head-on but they would buy time. If the Reavers came through fast, the Vultures would see them first, call it in, and give the Fangs the warning they needed to shift, reinforce, or dig deeper.
The pass was quiet for now, smoke from distant blaster fire rolling faintly across the horizon.

But within the rocks, Lilaste soldiers waited in silence, fingers curled on triggers, the whole line coiled tight like a sprung trap.The Night Claws, meanwhile, pushed further ahead of the main line. Where the Crater Fangs and Storm Vultures dug in for direct defense, the Claws slipped into the rocks with quieter intent. Their orders were simple harass, disrupt, and prepare the battlefield before the first real clash.

Working in small, independent squads, they moved like hunters through the pass. Anti-vehicle mines were laid carefully across likely approach routes narrow chokepoints, dried lava channels, and the few open stretches where enemy armor would be forced to commit. Each emplacement was hidden under rock and ash, marked only in their private grid so the artillery crews knew exactly where the traplines lay.

Contact with mercenaries came quick. Patrols unlucky enough to stumble across them were cut down with suppressed bursts, blades, or quiet detonations. Bodies were dragged into crevices or buried under loose stone, vanishing from sight as though they had never been there at all. No evidence. No warning.

At the same time, scouts swept high ridges and shadowed gullies, searching for enemy infantry and armored elements. Whenever they found signs of movement, target markers were painted across the terrain, feeding coordinates back into the network. Artillery crews would be ready to rain fire the moment the Reavers or their escorts showed themselves.The Night Claws didn't need glory. They worked in silence, unseen and unheard turning the pass itself into a killing ground before the battle even began.

Laphisto's gunship touched down a few kilometers short of the foundry, repulsors howling as dust and ash billowed across the landing zone. The moment the ramp slammed into the ground, he was already on his feet rifle slung forward, boots pounding against the dirt as he moved out with the Ash Dogs.The company advanced in staggered lines, weapons raised, eyes scanning the jagged terrain. Then the first shots cracked across the pass sharp bursts of blaster fire stitching the ground around them. Soldiers dropped low, scrambling for whatever cover the rocks would give. Laphisto reacted instantly. Dropping to one knee, he drove a hand into the dirt and ripped it upward with raw force.

Stone and soil buckled into jagged slabs, forming barricades in a staccato line ahead of the company. "Cover! Put 'em down give them lead!" his voice roared over the comms. Crashing his shoulder against one of the fresh walls of stone, he leaned out just enough to draw a bead. His broadsaber hung silent at his hip; now it was the rifle's turn to sing.

He braced it against the barricade and opened up, a torrent of slugs hammering downrange. Each shot cracked through the smoky air, the familiar kick rattling his frame as sparks and shrapnel burst from enemy positions. Around him, the Ash Dogs followed his lead filling the valley with the deafening chorus of slugthrowers, the thunder of LO-27Rs,and LO-18D rifles as 30-06 slugs flew downrange into the enemy forces

Kael Vos Kael Vos Koa Ahina Koa Ahina
 



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Planet: Vulpter
Location: Northern Volcanic Fields, Hunkering Down on the Ridgeline.
Platoon: Six
Squadron: 23 "Shadow Wing"
Mission: Secure the Holocron for GADF.

Status: Hired Active Duty, Private E-2 First Class

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The resounding tone of the high pitched frequency releasing from the edge of his helmet's outdated HUD rang loudly in his ear. The scanning shifted back and forth triangulating any movement and heat signatures it could find. Tiny bits of information flooded into his view. Each parsed section of the digital composition allowed Koa to dissect the sudden assault. Mercenaries scattered just to the west of the ridge he knelt on. He looked to the other soldiers as they hunkered down, using the spires of the rocky volcanic terrain to their advantage. A hail of slugs and blaster bolts mixed into a cacophony of hellfire. It was official, there was no turning back for the private.

They were under attack.

In a swift course of action Kael Vos Kael Vos gave the command. Each specialized unit had their orders, crystal clear orders. The earthly black obsidian rocks spat upward as a slug found its way into the rear-side of his protection. The HUD slid ever so slightly to the far corner of his peripheral view point. Koa's head turned in anticipation and gave out a guttural war-cry as he peaked over the tip of the jagged hilltop. Pings lit up his helmet screen and a burst of torrential firepower descended upon him. He leaned forward, stiffened his trusty sub-machine gun against his shoulder to bear the weight of the kickback. It would keep his aim steady through the bursts of each trigger-wall built into the gun.

Adrenaline filled him as he tracked the first merc cresting over the dug in outcrop below. They would be the first to feel the burning metal slug tear through them. His finger was light, careful and in a mere split second a chamber release sang out into the fray of combat. The gun dug into his armor, shreds of miniature light escaping the end of the barrel with precise accuracy. The mercenary fell limp, their body folding in on itself as they tumbled downward back into the divots of the jagged mountain.

Hues of red sprung to life from the sides of his visor, his view crowded with the dreadful truth,
Target Eliminated.

Koa didn't have time to consider what he had just done. While he had to do it many times, in the effort of the greater good he could provide to the galaxy, he still felt for the opposition. Killing was always necessary in any conflict, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Even more ironic, he happened to be good at it. Another shredding ring of firepower slipped into his area of influence. Thick mounds of dirt and rock kicked up into the sky all around him. The comms went live, a lone superior screaming over his interlinking communication device.


"Damn it private! Get your ass in cover!"

Koa twisted, a few shots ringing out from his gun before he jumped backwards and slid back behind the jagged tips of the mountain. His heart pounded with ferocity, the sound of it reaching his head. His breath eased when he realized the rounds didn't puncture through his older armor. He was lucky. He quickly spun over and gripped back onto the layered rocks from before holding him behind cover. A hand reaching out and lifting him to his feet.

"You pull a heroic stunt like that again Private, I will personally have your ass. Get back up there, stop their advances, we are getting to the refinery one way or another!"

Koa took a deep breath, fixed himself and dug into the cover. He pressed his side along the ridge and before he sent out more shots he looked to his right. Kael Vos Kael Vos Ripped a few more shots providing enough cover for Koa to change positions. Two men fell backwards and to the bottom of the ridge, Koa's HUD lit up one more time giving him confirmation. The two men were part of Alpha Squad. It seemed luck wasn't on their side today.

He dug in with the Alpha Lieutenant Vos. His gun found a tiny crevice he could shoot through and he took aim. More shells ripping through the air as they suppressed the enemy fire. However, guns couldn't stop everything.

The sheer force of the sudden implosion violently lurched Koa backwards, shards of splintered rock ricocheting off him as he soared through the air. Thoughts raced through his mind as he was in freefall.


A grenade? Aerial Assault? What...

A thundering slam tore through his body suit of armor as his back broke into the thick ground below. A small crater splintering the dry earth beneath his weight from the impact. The systems went dark and for a moment all he could hear was his own breathing in the vast darkness of a malfunctioned suit of armor. Trapped to the enclosed devices, waiting for the safety features to release him from a now steel prison.

He was going to have to fight without protection. At least, he assumed so. Until, a buzzing hum lifted through to the edges of his suit, his visor clasping back down and a hissing whine came to life. Oxidization protocol began. The pressure of the new air seeped into his very being and the system came back online. The digital log picking up where it left off. Indications beeped loudly about the damage he took. Chunks of sheet metal, ventilation hoses and a cracked visor all came into purview.

None of it would stop Koa though. As long as he had a gun, he would fight. Carefully, he reached for the edges of the crater he was laying in. He pulled himself up, shook his head and took a deep breath.

Maybe he wasn't lucky, maybe he was just a soldier, he thought; running back to the ridgeline to stop the mercenaries from impeding their advance on the northern refinery. He reminded himself one more time.


Get the job done...



 
"12th Star Reaver Battalion"





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TAGS: Laphisto Laphisto , Koa Ahina Koa Ahina
LOCATION: Refinery


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The battlefield around the northern ridge was devolving into chaos. On the other end he turned just in time to catch Private Koa clawing his way back into position, armor cracked, visor sparking, but weapon still gripped firm. "Good. You're still moving," Vos barked, grabbing Koa's shoulder and shoving him tighter into cover as another streak of slugs shattered the rock above. "Stay on me and keep that gun hot. You know what to do."

"Sky Razor! Suppressing fire — push them back!"
Lieutenant Kael Vos barked, his voice cutting through the din on the battalion comms.

Blaster bolts hissed overhead as Laphisto's mercenary vanguard pressed hard from the west. Snub-fighters from Charlie Company strafed the ridgeline to break the momentum, but enemy rocket fire forced one Skyviper to peel off trailing smoke, its starboard engine erupting before it cartwheeled into the valley. The loss rattled the channel.

"Mercs are stalling for time," he muttered into the comm, voice sharp. "That means someone else is digging in where it matters."

Z-M0 confirmed with a hollow chirp, projecting a revised map. Red grids spread across the northern pass—kill boxes, neatly laid. Too clean to be scav work. This was deliberate. Professional.

"Vos, we're losing ground!" someone called out.

"Then we take it back," Kael shot back flatly, vaulting from cover. His squad mirrored him with disciplined bursts, cutting a corridor of fire through the chaos. Koa scrambled up alongside him, his sub-machine gun rattling short bursts as the Alpha line began to surge forward. Behind them, the guttural roar of Bravo's Thundercat Walker shook the ridge. Its heavy cannons stitched the battlefield with molten light, collapsing a mercenary holdout into slag. The armored wedge bought the infantry precious seconds. Kael seized it.

The mercenaries' fire sputtered and broke as Alpha's overlapping volleys shredded their scattered formation. Black smoke rolled off the wreckage of two repulsor-sleds, their jury-rigged turrets still glowing as they toppled into molten cracks. Vos didn't linger on the kills—he was already scanning forward, visor filtering through the dust haze until the silhouette of the refinery's jagged towers rose over the horizon.

Vos exhaled through his nose, decision forming instantly. "These Mercenaries have someone with them but who?" His jaw tightened as he keyed the battalion net.

"All units, adjust push refinery is hot with layered defenses. Expect fortified MG nests, RPG zones, and overlapping arcs. Bravo, you're on point—draw their fire, fix and suppress. Charlie, screen with smoke and prep close air. Alpha, follow me—we'll cut the flank."

He slashed his hand down. "Open fire!"

The 12th Star Reaver Battalion moved as one. Bravo Company's armor squads surged up the ash field, Juggernauts belching suppressive fire as Thundercat Walkers hammered the refinery approaches with heavy cannons. Infantry from Alpha APC detachments spilled into staggered lines, returning fire in disciplined bursts. Charlie's second flight swept low overhead, Skyviper gunships peeling off to rake the northern ridgeline with rotary cannons while U-Wings lobbed smoke charges that burst into rolling walls of gray, in efforts to break up the Order's kill zones. Alpha Company's forward platoons shifted to bounding overwatch. Squads Raven and Hawkwing leapfrogged up shattered basalt ridges, laying down fire while Vos led platoon 6 squads into the eastern defile.

The Order's reply was immediate. Heavy repeaters snarled from bunkers carved into volcanic shelves, cutting swaths of fire across Bravo's infantry. Rockets streaked from the refinery perimeter, one slamming into a Panthac light tank and pitching it sideways in a plume of smoke and molten slag. Vos dropped into the cover of an old lava trench, Alpha squads tucking close behind. He tapped Koa Ahina's shoulder as their troopers pressed into the choke point.

"Keep tight with the men. Once we break through, we'll be in their rear. Hit hard, hit fast. No hesitation."

Bravo's advance was stalling. Over the net, strained calls for medics cut through the static—half a squad pinned behind a wrecked Juggernaut, another shredded by overlapping fire. Vos's HUD pinged signatures of Laphisto's artillery in the northern hills, concealed but braced.

[BATTALION NET | MAJOR REN]:
crackle "Vos, you've got their attention. Push harder... if you stall, Bravo's line won't hold." static


"Charlie, mark those batteries. Lock them now." Vos replied on comms. Major Ren was absolutely right.

"Coordinates locked," Z-M0 confirmed, voice metallic.

Vos's answer was curt. "Fire support—now."

Predator B-Wings shrieked overhead, their goal was to drop a pair of heavy rockets that would arc before slamming into the artillery positions. If connected it will make the hillside erupt, molten rock and shrapnel cascading down on the Order's gunners. For a breathless instant, the pressure would be eased.

"Bravo, that's your window! Push to the wall!" Kael yelled as the smoke covered most of their path.

Vos surged forward, Alpha peeling into the defile. Sky Razor squad laid down covering fire while Storm Talon bounded ahead, rifles barking with precise bursts. Smoke and debris swallowed them as the refinery's looming silhouette grew, metal walls rising like jagged teeth through the haze.

He raised a hand, signaling. "Charges on the side entrance. No delays."

As Bravo and Charlie pinned the Order outside with some of Alpha elements, Vos's detachment coiled along the flank. He glanced at the battlefield, visor reflecting the faint glow of firestorms crackling across the valley. The charges flared, ripping a service hatch apart in a shower of molten steel. Vos ducked through first, Platoon 6 flooding in behind him rifles up, clearing corners, pressing deeper into the refinery's shadowed belly. The hunt for the holocron had begun.

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