Invasion All Your Base Are Belong To Us! | TIC Invasion of SO Held "Thandon Star Cluster" Superhex

[Allyson Locke]

//: Her //:
//: Attire //:
//: Equipment //:
//: Bow & Arrows //: Cybernetic Eye //: Jacket //: Arrows of Absence x 24 //: Bag of Absencite x 5ea //:
//: Non Transferable "Equipment" //:
//: Ava'kash Brand //: Emperor's Echo //:

Allyson hated scary movies.

She hated zombies specifically.

And yet, both had become constant features in her missions as of late. First, her mission to Anoat had forced her to come face to face with a Corpse King, and now she's here, on Brosi.

The Corellian crouched, hidden from sight and the Force as she contemplated her situation. Maybe she should have stayed with the Jedi. At least then she would just be fighting psychos who break out of SIA prisons - who used to be your padawan.

Still, even then, Zaavik was supposed to be dead by all accounts. To see him again, and in pieces, brought forward feelings she had buried deep in the recesses of her broken mind.

Maybe she should retire?

She snorted. The thought of retiring was like asking the Shadow to stop breathing. Yet, it was a good laugh, and in situations like this, laughing was sometimes the best way to deal.

Getting herself together, she watched through the security feed she had wired to her cybernetic eye. She was able to track the faces of those entering and exiting. Something, though, hit the security system and drew Allyson's attention to it.

"Oh?" She leaned closer to the screen and smirked. Something had been planted, but it was no concern. While getting through security would be easy, Allyson's mission wasn't to protect the data system infrastructure of the tower. The Sith had done their due diligence, or so she hoped.

Today, she was playing soldier.

Allyson began to track the source of this Red Queen. At least then she'd know what terminal was accessed and hopefully the individual who thought they were clever.

It took only moments for her to abuse mechu deru, nearly breaking the system itself to track. Data easily fed to her eye as a track laid out before her. They weren't far; the cowardly spy had taken advantage of finding a simple sniper nest.

Crawling from her vantage point, Allyson remained cloaked and hidden in the Force. With the amount of Force users blazing in the Force, she focused on keeping herself hidden and aware of the others. She moved silently, each footstep silent, and her breathing further non-existent.

Allyson crept cautiously till she could climb into the vents and continue.

It didn't take long for her to find the terminal access point. Carefully, she unscrewed the vent from the inside and drew up the metal grate, placing it quietly into the vent with her.

Controlling her own movements, her body defied what was normal as she hung upside down, still undetectable.

One of her new toys drew along with the bow Taeli had crafted using her own bled light. The bow protected her, along with the brand of the Asha'kurat. Fate had no control over her; it left a void where battle sense or the Force could breathe her intent into the minds of her enemies.

She had become the perfect spy, a grand assassin. Hanging, she drew the Absencite arrow; it remained off, allowing her to retain the Force surrounding her. Full strength, she pulled the taut string and fired.

The arrow sailed through the air from behind the woman as she seemingly pondered life itself. The target is between the shoulder blades to hopefully pierce her heart or lungs. As the arrow drew close, Allyson activated the absencite arrowhead. The Force could no longer breathe within a meter of the arrowhead.

She waited, drawing another arrow, with an explosive tip created by the nanite system of her quiver.

Hopefully, the woman wasn't a zombie, that would make this nightmare worse.

 

[Onrai]

Objective 1
Tags: Open

A small meteor came through the atmosphere of the world of Brosi. It burnt through the atmosphere before impacting on the surface of the planet itself. From the small crater, a familiar shadowed form arose, the shade's pseudo-hair draping itself down her back as she began to wander the battlefield. It looked up at the tower. This was a strategic point, and Onrai had no intention of allowing it to fall under the unwanted dominion of the Empire's enemies much longer. Even if she had yet disagreed with the decision to strike, the die had been cast and she would follow what her agreements had yet provided.

And yet the scent of strange perversion was afoot as she stepped into the tower. Of fickle Force magics. Delicious Force magics that screamed to her like a buffet to an obese Twi'lek. Her fingers tensed and made an audible cracking sound, her form transiting to mist as it pierced through the gaps of a nearby door, entering into the domain of the tower. Whatever she confronted here would yet be only part of the solution to the Sith's grandiose problem.

-

Objective 3
Tags: Open

The Ablution jumped in at the edges of the Brosi system, far away from any of the fleet engagements. It was running silent, with minimal power - it had even come out of hyperspace in the void, using its weakest tertiary drive to finally make the jump into Brosi's dominion. On board it was the key to Imperial salvation. They had wandered into charnel house of undead and cumulative Dark Side rituals whose Force presence practically ignited the planet.

The being on board the archaic warship planned to change that.

Vanessa Vantai sat on board the ship's meditation chamber. While intended as a foci for Force rituals, it served the purpose of similar Anti-Force rites the same, a nexus of concentration the fragmented being so desperately required. As her eyes closed, her senses transcended the mere mortal manifestation that sat within the aging warship. She began to see the battlefield more clearly, as though it were a great map which showcased the hubs of Force activity upon the benighted world.

A presence reached out from the warship, something abominable even to the Darksiders who claimed the system as their home. Something began to reach out, drawn towards the profane rites like moths to a flame as the small mortal being began to chant, to speak in a foul tongue whose very linguistics caused the chamber's metal to tarnish. Such was it intended for the domains of beings whose malevolence were not meant for realspace.

A focus began to build on the ritual that had yet been placed on the world, the rite that kept the undead alive. It would take a modicum of time - but once one act had been taken, it would make every other that much easier.

 

[Horus Rhyne]

Location: Brosi
Ally: Sophia of House Marr

It was always good to diversify your investment opportunities.

Brosi wasn't exactly his idea of a good investment, but the Empire was waging war against the Alliance in the Core. Most of his holdings were currently tied up on Coruscant. Having the Empire in charge there wouldn't be necessarily bad, but the chaos and bloodshed would certainly complicate things for a few weeks until the dust had settled.

Brosi was as far away from that mess as was possible. It was also inside the influence of the Sith, which was beneficial for all kinds of reasons.

He had invited Sophia along with him. To inspect a refinery platform that he could acquire for cheap and refurbish into something else. She was such a brilliant light... and the farther away she was from her family, the brighter she shone.

Brows furrowed however as he turned to look at the sky. It was one karked up display, so not like he could see a lot. But the Force was contorting and twisting in a way that reminded him of Coruscant. He checked his datapad and eyes widened a touch. "Oh for kark's sake." Horus muttered as he checked the status feed and realized that war had found him even here.

In the corner of the Galaxy.

With his love invited right here.

"Sophia?" Turning around to her. "Have you seen this?"

 

[Aerik Lechner]

LOCATION: Mega Tower [Service Tunnel]
OBJECTIVE: Storm the Tower
GOALS: SABOTAGE!
TAG: Naedira Darcrath | Open

Brosi was nothing. The planet meant nothing to the Sith, and yet the Imperials had attacked it. Their strategy made no sense to anything which the pup had been taught at the Jutrand Academy. It seemed to be more akin to someone tossing noodles against a wall just to see what would stick. It had opened options for the Sith which would not have been considered were other worlds in play.

In short, the Sith scorched it.

All of it.

Aerik did not know what he thought about the strategy. He could see the merit in it he supposed. It was calculated, pragmatic. This was something one of the academy strategists would have come up with, or… an Echani. There were plenty of them at the academy. Aerik had tried being their friend, but his own struggles with controlling his inner beast had gotten in the way of it. His change had been difficult, but that was not the thing which isolated him from those he was closest to.

Killing the Jedi had done that. It saw him promoted to a different cohort and put a target on his back. It had been good that Prazutis came for him. They no longer looked at him as the son of the Dread Wolf. His father was as much a problem for him as he was a boon. Aerik wanted a name for himself, and that would only come by separating himself from Gerwald’s deeds. Aerik needed to be known for his own actions and prowess in battle.

The pup quickly felt for the lightsaber hilt at his waist. It had been his prize.

"I know your father wants you on the front lines. He won't say it out loud…But I know."

His mother’s words pulled Aerik out of his own thoughts, almost as if she may have known what he was thinking.

He shrugged, whether she could see it or not. It would likely be better if she didn’t.

“It’s what I have been trained for,” he answered. “To lead. Fight. Win.”

She had not wanted them to go to the academy, Aerik had been certain of that for some time. There was a tension which seemed to exist in their family around the lot they found themselves in. His father’s loyalty to Srina Talon was why they were among the Sith Order. It was why they remained. The young wolf was not foolish. He could tell the empress was a sore subject and would let that be a matter for his parents.

Aerik’s black armor mirrored his mothers. It was designed for stealth, to hide them. He liked it. The wolf liked it. It was within his nature to move about unseen, hunting and stalking his prey. In this case “the kill” would be Imperial technology or anything else which tried to steal from the tower. They would have to move swiftly, as the sound of battle rang in the pup’s ears.

They had a job to do.

"Remember…Step carefully and use the darkness to your advantage…Trust your gut. Your instincts will lie less than people do."

He rolled his eyes.

“It is like a hunt, mom… I get it.”

His tone carried the annoyed sound of any teenager who thought they knew what they were doing. Aerik was still teachable, but seemed to be more receptive to others than his own parents. Naedira did have the advantage over Gerwald, however. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, the boy had always had a gift spot for his mother. Cole had always liked to tease him for being a mama’s boy, but Aerik found nothing wrong with it. Vyra was usually the one to break them up.

With that thought, he missed them.

"We're not here to be seen, Aerik. We're not here to be brave…We're here to make sure they die—And we don't."

The She-Wolf did not need to repeat herself. Aerik got the message loud and clear. This was not an environment he knew, not fully. War was something new, no matter what he had survived. Naedira was determined to make sure that outcome was realized here. It was not about winning. It was about killing and not dying. That was dependent on how well they stayed hidden.

He nodded. This time his attitude was as it should be.

“Let me set up the next one? Maybe we rig it to explode?”

Aerik took a few more steps, moving through the shadows, pausing to look up to see if anyone was passing where a beam of light broke through a grate in the floor above them. When it was all clear he moved quickly, a momentary blur. He stopped to look over his shoulder at his mother for approval.

Then he inhaled.

His nose under the rebreather crinkled.

“It smells worse than dad after a workout down here.”

 

[War Marshal Helix]

Objective II: Seize The Means
Equipment: Himself
Tags: OPEN​

Helix's metal jaws clamped down on his newest victim's head with an awful finality. No warning, save a scream, abruptly cut short. He chewed thoughtfully, absorbing the carcass down to its base molecules. It was hardly an ideal meal. Imperials were so... dull. Minds filled with very little save slavish obedience and a severely-misaligned sense of their own importance. Most didn't even have the good sense to be properly afraid in their final moments.

He supposed there was no sense in expecting greatness from slaves. The Imperials were doing much the same as the Sith: making use of the masses in the only way they were fit for.

Helix's droid forces had come in early to support the undead uprising orchestrated by Darth Caedes . Unyielding armored metal, backing up endless legions of walking corpses. The two made a fearsome combination indeed, particularly alongside his new war machines. Completed just in time to wet their hulls in blood.

Helix broadened his perception, flickering his consciousness rapidly through the countless infantry droids that fought and killed and burned their way through the streets. For once, he was on the defensive. A welcome change, if only to shake things up. Here was a new enemy, and one he was beginning to remember why he'd always disliked, at least in their prior incarnations.

Imperials never seemed to get the message, no matter how many times their wretched form of totalitarianism collapsed under its own weight. He'd been there to witness the fall of the first, and seen it happen again and again whenever new believers rose up to wear the skin of the old.

In fact, they were so similar in form and function to the Sith that it was remarkable any separation still existed between the two. In his mind, they should kiss and make up.

He shook himself from his reverie, idly tossing the partially-skeletonized stormtrooper to the floor of his transport. The enormous Landslide droid was advancing contemptuously through the streets, its armored treads flattening buildings, vehicles, troops, or whatever else was too slow to get out of the way. Occasionally, some hostiles got bright ideas about planting charges. He'd eaten or dismembered every one so far.

He brushed a finger over the enormous crawler-droid's surface, touching its simple mind. It was hungry, unsurprisingly. The great machine's hungering maw had sucked up enormous quantities of debris, using it to churn out even more droids as it moved.

He leaned back in his command chair, opening a channel to his very favorite person: Lirka Ka . "If you're done having fun, you can come help me field-test the Third's new toy, Imperator. Plenty of would-be heroes for the both of us, all seeking to be the one to ruin my beautiful machine. Maybe I'll even keep one alive for you, if you're feeling as peckish as I am."

 

[Sophia of House Marr]

​

​

Ally Tag: [SO] + Horus Rhyne
Enemy Tag: [TIC] - Not Engaging Yet [OPEN]
Location: Brosi [At some kind of...Refinery?]
Objective: Objective III - BYOO [Subject to change pending opposition]

| Robes | - | Red Lightsaber | - | Cool Whip | - | Enviro-Shield Generator |
___________

Quote of the Moment:
"...Well...You need the villain. If you don't have one...The good guy can just stay home."
___________​

"Why don't we just blow it up?"

Sophia was no geologist, but she was fairly certain that taking chunks out of Brosi would have solved every ill the Sith Order had. Were zinsian and hfredium really all that hard to find when her people occupied hundreds of star systems? Wouldn't the loss be worth flash frying some imperial scum? She shrugged slim shoulders at the thought and rolled her eyes. Honestly…

Sith just liked to do things the hard way.

The littlest Marr didn't take offense at the lack of an immediate response from Horus and continued lounging as if she owned the place. He might not have even heard her, given how focused he was and hardly paying any attention to her at all. The noble woman was perched atop a rusted support strut like it was some antique chaise and not a load-bearing death trap. It was probably a few sneezes away from collapse, being honest. One leg crossed over the other, the red of her coat adding some cheer to this industrial nightmare, while she drew little circles in the air with her pointer finger.

The gesture hummed with energy, tugging gently at the Force, like she was weaving or playing a game with mystical energies. It was probably some kind of trap. Or art. Or a runic spell.

The line for Sophia could be…Really thin.

When Horus finally addressed her, looking up from his datapad, crimson eyes followed the line of him with no small measure of enjoyment. Had she known? A tilt of her head caused her to pause and look toward the same sky. Yeah, that was something. "We talked about this, remember?"

"Come to Brosi, you said. It'll be great, you said. There's been a lot of activity in that area, I said. Brosi is an ugly mudball, I said.", Sophia returned slowly, voice lilting and dripping with dramatic disdain. No one ever listened to her. Horus had tuned her out the moment she mentioned her brother, which, was a telltale sign he hadn't heard much after that. He wasn't…Fond of him, given their last interaction. "Let me guess…The sky is ten kinds of angry, and the Imperials have popped up like your last ex-girlfriend?"

That was met with a bit of a sneer.

She really did, mean his LAST ex-girlfriend. He would never have another as her jealousy knew no limits. In all honesty, he had brought this on himself. He had pursued her, not the other way around. Now he had to pay the piper and love her forever, unless he wanted to wake up without the use of his limbs.

"I'd say the party is…Right on time."

She pushed away from the strut and landed not terribly far from Horus with a slight thud. There was a pause—Just long enough for a distant explosion to rumble beneath their feet. She raised her hand to the level of her eyes and scanned the horizon, only to see a giant reptile, and her head started nodding slowly. Yep. They'd even unleashed that…Thing, Garza , a titan that had an unhealthy obsession with the Empress. Never had Sophia met someone who could make nice with…Literally anything.

From a giant lizard to a rock.

They weren't even anywhere nearby, but the sound it emitted was enough to make her teeth grind together. Sophia gave Horus one of her patented smiles, lips the color of a blood rose, and reached up to brush a little ash from his shoulder that was not without affection. "Why do you think I packed rebreathers instead of high heels? The air is clear enough here…But the rest of this world is a cesspool."

She leaned into him and tucked her head under his chin. Obnoxious, but…Obedient.

"We might have to go ruin someone else's day before they ruin ours."

Regardless, he owed her a nice lunch.

 

[Squesha]

Objective 3​

Admiral Squesha watched the swirls of hyperspace through the bridge windows as her fleet travelled to Brosi. She knew this would be her hardest battle yet. Sure she had fought other fleets before. Pirates, rebels and traitors had all fallen to her hand. But these were Sith. Everyone knew the legends of the Sith. Their power, their ferocity and their refusal to surrender. It would be enough to make most people hesitate.

Not Squesha. She knew that order was on her side. The Sith were a chaotic force, fighting each other as much as their enemies. The Confederation, in contrast, followed order and discipline. No barbarian, no matter how strong can stand up to control and precision.

The Sith were outdated, relics of a more chaotic time. There was no place for them in the order and stability the Imperial Confederation would provide. They would prove this here, she was sure of it.

"Coming out of hyperspace, admiral."

"Acknowledged. Shields up."

The stars streaked before coming to a stop as her fleet entered the Brosi system. It was a magnificent sight. Three Loki class corvettes, two Tyrant IV cruisers, two Imperial class star destroyers, an interdictor and her flagship, a Barragan class carrier named The Peacemaker. She was in charge of one portion of the Seventh fleet, with Calin Rakel in charge of the other. He had arrived first, and their support from Admiral Vorin Zonill was also active. The MIN Collateral Star had a commanding presence. Squesha frowned slightly. While she appreciated its firepower, she never could get over the random and chaotic nature of the vessel.

She opened a commlink channel.

"Vice Admiral Calin Rakel, this is Admiral Squesha. We have arrived and are moving into formation. I am deploying two squadrons of gunships to aid you."

It was then that she heard the distress call from on of Rakels corvettes. Thinking quickly she sent out an order to her Interdictor.

"Immobilizer, user your gravity wells to get that corvette out of there! All hands red alert! Scanners at maximum I want their locations now!"

At her command several squadrons of TIEs roared out of her hanger bays, searching for signs of the enemy. It was then that her comms operator spoke.

"Admiral we have lost contact with the surface. Rakel is demanding fleet command. We are working on a solution."

Squesha was about to respond when her sensor operator spoke up.

"Possible Sith vessal beyond asteroid field. Orders?"

"Mark its location and prepare a recon flyby with a squadron of TIE pixies. As for communications I need a solution now. Seventh fleet, move under the asteroids so their sensors lose our magnetic signature. Star destroyers in front, flanked by cruisers and screened by corvettes. I will be in the middle. Engage!"

Spoiler: Fleet Composition

• Barragan Class Versatile Attack Carrier- 2000 m
  • 4 wings of TIE/ss Supremacy fighter
  • 4 wings of TIE/ja Jaeger
  • 1 wing of TIE/dv Devastator
  • 1 wing of FAE/TIE Series Pixie Ultralight Interceptor
• Imperial 1 Class Star Destroyer x2- 3200 m
  • 6 wings of TIE/ss Supremacy fighter
  • 2 wings of TIE/ja Jaeger
  • 2 wings of HAAT/i Imperial Assault Gunship
• Tyrant 4 Class Suppression Cruiser x2 - 2000 m
• Paralyzer Class Interdictor Cruiser- 650 m
  • 2 wings of FAE/TIE Series Pixie Ultralight Interceptor
  • 1 wing of HAAT/i Imperial Assault Gunship
• Loki Class Fast Corvette x3- 600 m

Spoiler: Fleet summary

Fleet moves under asteroid field towards enemy in formation

Ronhar Tane Calin Rakel Darth Carnifex Sith Fleeters

​

 

[Koda Fett]

Sieliel Dimegor Bounty
​

---

The Spear III arrived in the Brosi system in advance, on account of paid information that spilled the secrets of an inbound Imperial invasion.

He spent several rotations cramped up inside the ship, able to pass the time in that idle state with relative ease. To be a hunter, one had to be patient. Fett clung his vessel to a piece of debris that drifted in orbit, gliding around the planet in the Sith territories as if a piece of trash swept up in the breeze. The Spear III was of a Sith design, crafted in the Malsheem Shipyards, and that allowed for an ease of detection. The ship sat in a state of, somewhat, low power; the clamps to keep it attached remained powered, as did the life support systems and the sensor jammers.

The Mandalorian was a licensed hunter with a contract established with Darth Carnifex, but he aimed to avoid needing to explain his reason for being in Brosi ahead of an invasion. A bounty on an Imperial nowhere near was hardly made much sense.

Once the Imperial starships entered the system, Fett was quick to get to work. He flicked switches, twisted knobs and pulled on levers and the ship thrummed back to life in full. It let out that low whir as it detached from the adrift piece of debris and the cloaking system activated, rendering it invisible to sensors and the naked eye as he began to fly across towards the ensuing battle.

He received a tip on which TIE's indicator he needed to pursue, stalking it across the stars.

 

[Bella]

Location: Shoengen - Brosi
Thread Objective: The Battlefield is Constant Chaos
Mission Objective: Patrol
Allies: N/A
Enemies: Kaila Irons Tamsin Graves

Bella’s montrals buzzed with sound and fury as the ultralight TIE’s antimatter-powered ion engines came alive with the sudden acceleration she had willed from the craft. Her target, a Sith starfighter which had become isolated from its squadron, jinked erratically across her viewport as the Togruta honed in a firing solution, the craft’s desperate trajectory shifts doing little to obstruct its acquisition. Bella matched the maneuvers with equal parts honed instinct and hyperaugmented reflex, her features tightening as the target maneuvered into her window—

And then, Bella laid on the cannons.

A short, precise burst of HEAT rounds tore out into the void before ripping through the starfighter’s unshielded engines, blooming it apart in a cascade of fire and ruptured hull plating. Bella’s TIE surged past it, particle shields protecting her craft from the debris cloud as she vectored towards her next two targets from below the primary plane of engagement. And from below, she engaged. Another volley of HEAT rounds screamed upward, piercing the starfighters’ ventral armor with surgical brutality. The cockpits became tombs in an instant, their pilots shredded before they could even register her presence. With a sharp intake of air, Bella whipped her machine around in a flurry of 360° rolls as she ascended up into the main plane, before vectoring towards the remainder of the enemy squadron as they sought to regroup in a desperate attempt at restoring cohesion.

In moments, Bella was upon them.

A pair of HEAT rounds punched through a Sith starfighter’s transparisteel viewport, reducing the pilot to a cloud of gore and vapor while leaving the starfighter wholly intact, save for the absence of its occupant. His starfighter continued in its course, and Bella used the dead vessel as mobile cover, slipping behind it with serpentine grace before darting out again in a flash of motion. Her next salvo shredded the fuselage of the pursuing fighter, rupturing its frame into a blossom of flame and debris.

From there, the Baroness rended open a path through the squadron, her vectors weaving a path of ruin as she transitioned from one target to the next. Over the next six seconds, she cut down three more Sith craft—quadanium-hulled fuselages perforated and unmade as vitae, shrapnel, and debris floated lazily into the void.

“Two and Three, form back on me.” Bella called her two wingmates, whose much larger heavy assault TIEs quickly maneuvered into formation as ordered, dwarfing her tiny ultralight interceptor. All the while, the Baroness glanced at the tactical readout in her HUD, her cerulean-hued gaze poring over the details of the tasking which had appeared only seconds prior.

“We have a new assignment,” she announced coolly. “Full military power on my signal! We’re going for the Sith’s cargo formations.”

Spoiler: Loadout

Craft: Aether Fairy

• Status
  
  • Shields: 100%
  • Hull: 100%
  • Structure: 100%
• Armament
  
  • Light Cannon Hardpoint (4) - Wigntip
    
    • FAE/SW-19 Light Linear Motor Autocannon
    • FAE/SW-19 Light Linear Motor Autocannon
    • FAE/SW-15 Light Transcendent Disruptor Cannon
    • FAE/SW-15 Light Transcendent Disruptor Cannon
  • Missile Pod (2)
    
    • FAE/WH-05-S3 Universal Stealth Missile - Plasma Warhead (2)
    • FAE/WH-05-S3 Universal Stealth Missile - Concussion Warhead (2)
• Pilot Equipment
  
  • FAE/A-09 Anti-G Suit
  • NZ/BP-45 Heavy Blaster Pistol 'Pistis'
    
    • Attachments
      
      • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
    • Ammunition
      
      • Power Cell (3)
      • Tibanna Gas Canister

 

[Drystan Creed]

OBJECTIVE 1

An interesting turn of events—though not an unwelcome one.

Drystan listened to the holomessage sent by Quinn, a cigarette between his lips as it played. He was aboard his personal ship at the moment, having been told to refrain from deploying immediately with the rest of his company. Though he would have liked another mission to build chemistry, this new opportunity was too good to pass up. A grin formed the moment the mission details came through.

There was a challenge, however.

His allegiances needed to remain obscured—an undercover operation. But there was too little time to craft a cover identity tailored for Imperial compatibility, and not enough time to research and prepare thoroughly. He'd have to reach into his existing catalog of aliases. Even then, without a true Imperial identity, he'd be working in reverse—earning trust before gathering any substantial intelligence. Still, posing as a mercenary or bounty hunter in the Empire's employ wouldn't raise suspicion.

Fortunately, he had just the disguise for the job.

---

Spoiler: Disguise

As Strosious tore a path deeper into the tower, a booming voice called out behind him, echoing from down the hall he'd previously passed through.

"Halt, villain!"

The voice was loud and boisterous, clearly filtered through a voice modulator. It came from a helmeted stranger armed with an array of gadgets and a mysterious techno-katana at his hip.

The first thing anyone would notice about this figure was the of red on his armor. It wasn't the sinister crimson of a Sith Lord—it was a bold, heroic red, the kind associated with valor and justice.

Next was the cape—flowing and matching his armor's color, billowing dramatically to the side despite the complete lack of wind inside the tower.

And finally, the pose: arms crossed, posture ramrod straight, the full frame of his body facing forward. It radiated defiance, confidence—the stance of someone who met every challenge head-on.

"A stalwart shield against the endless tides of evil... A beacon of hope piercing through the infinite darkness..."

With a dramatic sweep, he raised his left arm, index finger extended, pointing skyward—toward the ceiling, the clouds and beyond, to the very heavens.

"Super Galaxy Protector: Red Lightning!"

That same finger slowly arced downward until it aimed squarely at Strosious.

"Heroic Objective: Eliminate target with extreme prejudice."

This was one of Drystan's aliases—used specifically for undercover work. A holo-movie hero–themed bounty hunter and mercenary.

He figured the more bombastic and outwardly boisterous persona of this disguise would help erase any suspicion of his true identity, especially given how vastly different it was from his actual demeanor.

Darth Strosius
Mentioned: Quinn Varanin

 

[Brent Warnel]

Brent held a small box in his hands. His name was carved into it, the slight indentation into the plastic made it clear who the contents were for. He unclasped the front of the box and lifted the lid, peering inside. A small note with the letters "ISS" imprinted on it. Below the letter, several small vials containing some anti-viral and a data chip lay neatly in foam padding.

As Brent peered at the datachip, a hologram played in the corner of his shuttle. A dark figure swept through a group of Mandalorians, killing them with ease. His red blade blurring through the air, causing the recording to stutter with its ferocity.

Brent killed the hologram, taking a deep breath. Past horrors were coming back to haunt him. Things he thought dead now reared their head, haunting his future. And now? Now he was helping Imperials in return for a glimpse of data. A hope of getting an inkling of information which could help him further his path.

Brent plugged the datachip into his ship's console and swiveled to look out of the viewport. "Cin Vhetin." The stars distorted as his ship entered hyperspace, bound for a world embroiled in war.

****

Brent burned through the atmosphere of Brosi, the thick smoke hanging in the air distorting his sensors as he pushed toward the outskirts of Shoengen, and more specifically, the large Tower adorning the city's center. He angled his ship to a decrepit part of the burned-out forest and landed, exiting from the cockpit onto the surface.

Brent had arrived some time before The Imperial Confederation launched its attack. He used the calm before the storm to infiltrate Shoengen and work his way to the Tower. Once in place, Brent waited and watched. The Blight, which was coursing through this world's veins, was apparent in every facet of the city. People barely moved, and traffic was nearly non-existent. What should have been a bustling area of the city was a ghost town.

Until they arrived. Thunder echoed through the air as The Imperial Confederation's ships split the sky. Dropships, drop pods, star fighters, and heavy ordinance screamed from orbit, lighting up the distant sky. Even with the confusion, Brent waited.

There! A shadow flitting into the Tower. There! Another individual engaging troopers in close proximity to the Tower. Higher up, blaster cannons rang out as a shuttle engaged the Tower's occupants before landing.

"Busy, busy," Brent said as he donned his helmet, the air hissing as it sealed itself to his armor.

Sprinting toward the Tower, Brent used every fiber of his being to move as fast as he could. His suit dumping meds into his system to make him faster, stronger, more resilient. The Tower's defenses opened up on him, blaster emplacements dropping from hidden alcoves and directing fire towards him. His wrist snapped up, shield flaring from his vambrace as the blaster bolts meant for him ricocheted off the energy field, redirected back into the turrets and destroying them.

He jumped hard, his muscles straining to lift his heavy frame off the ground. As he neared his apex, his jetpack ignited and launched him several stories up to a small balcony where he landed. The door to the balcony was shut and locked, but that was of no matter.

Brent slapped a melta charge on the door and jumped over the balcony, whipcord launching from his vambrace and attaching to the balcony railing as he detonated the melta charge. The explosion rippled through the air, no doubt alerting anyone nearby that the Tower had a visitor.

As the whipcord neared the end of its length, he used his momentum to swing back up and over the balcony, detaching the cord from the railing and landing heavily before the door. Brent's blaster rifle snapped up, his HUD scanning through all visible light spectrums as it looked for enemies as he entered the Tower.

"Knock knock."

ALLIES: TIC FORCES
ENEMIES: SITH
TAGS: OPEN

 

[Augustus Von Strauss]

Objective: II - Seize the Means of Production
Location: Inbound to Brosi's Surface
Troop Contingent: 144th Strike Legion (~6.4k stormtroopers) On board Storks and Imperial Gunships | I will only be controlling 150 troopers and three gunships

Spoiler: Trooper Loadouts

Standard: [100] Ironstorm-pattern Stormtrooper Armor, G-11 Imperial Standard Blaster Carbine, Thermal Detonators
Exoskeletons: [50] Imperial Infantry Exoskeleton, Plasma Disruptor Rifle, Thermal Detonators, CryoBan Grenades

Spoiler: Augustus Loadout

Armor: Imperial Infantry Exoskeleton
Weapons: Plasma Disruptor Rifle, SE-26p heavy blaster pistol (given to him by @Ronhar Tane )
Equipment: 4 Thermal Detonators, 2 CryoBan Grenades, 1 extra dose of viral suppressant

Allies: N/A | TIC
Enemies: Spirit of Korriban | Darth Caedes | SO

Augustus's eyes were closed; he was deep in thought. He felt the gunship shudder as it left the hangar of the carrier, the low hum of its engines thrummed in his ears before the first status reports started to flood in. He opened his eyes and was met by the durasteel wall of the gunship. This time he was standing with his troopers, not sitting in a jumpseat before them. He looked to his left and nodded at the captain next to him before turning around to face the contingent of troopers.

His hand was wrapped around the support bar, the pale light of the gunship's interior painted him a pale blue hue as he surveyed his troopers. They were not in the standard imperial white carapace, but instead were outfitted in a heavier gunmetal colored armor. They were a gift from Governor Vanessa Vantai ( Onrai ), a gift that was able to outfit only a small number of his troopers. The majority of his strike legion were still clad in the white armor of the empires of yore. He tried to make eye contact with each soldier before going over the plan; he reached to his forearm and pressed a button on his comlink, connecting him to the entire legion.

"This is Von Strauss. Before we break the atmosphere, medics initiate inoculations. All troopers are to receive a dosage, no exceptions." He watched as the medics in the back of the gunship began to use the injectors, filling the veins of his soldiers with a much-needed boost against the Candorian Blight. Although these suits were hermetically sealed, in battle, nothing was perfect. "After you receive the dose, set watches for 6 standard hours. That is when you'll need another dose. Medics, you are to be at the rear. Do not directly engage the enemy; troopers, if you see a medic down, pick up their pack and keep moving."

He pressed another button on his forearm and a holoprojector started, "We of the 144th have been tasked with taking this Hfredium plant, Vantar-7. Once we have secured the plant, we are going to hold it until a Bulwark legion comes and replaces us. We have no idea what we will encounter on the planet, but we are treating this like any other operation. Your platoon and company leaders will now fill you in on the knitty-gritty details. For the Empire!"

He watched as the medics grew closer and closer until one stepped directly in front of Augustus. He tapped his own helmet, letting Augustus know to lift up his own. There was a slight hiss as the hermetic seal broke, followed by a slight pinch as the injector was deftly administered. He lowered his helmet, allowing the seal to reattach.

After a few seconds passed, the co-pilot's voice crackled into his earpiece. <<Commandant, we are detecting a power surge on scopes. Mid-range, twenty klicks east of Vantar-7. Its signature doesn't match anything recorded from that region.>>

Augustus tilted his head as he reviewed the feed as it appeared on a portable datascreen. He only took a few seconds to make his decision.

"Divert course, I want three birds on it, ours included. Inform Lieutenant-Colonel Horrigan, he has command of the 144th. Notify command that we are diverting from the primary target to a secondary target. If this isn't coming from our initial scans of the planet, we need bodies on it."

The pilot gave a brief acknowledgment. The flight path shifted, and within moments, the gunships dipped into the planet's atmosphere, wings trembling as they cut through Brosi's harsh air. They touched down on brittle rock, the dust parting as if in deference to Augustus's arrival. The air around them felt wrong. Charged. Electric.

He watched as the troopers poured out of the gunships, the gunmetal armor striking a major difference against the white stormtroopers from the other two gunships. They quickly surrounded the gunships, creating a defensive perimeter. Before stepping off of the gunship, he pressed a button on the wall connecting him to the pilots,

"Stay close, I have no idea what we are going to find, but I want air support for as long as possible!"

A stormtrooper's voice came through the auxiliary channel, sharp with tension. <<Sir, we're picking up movement on scopes. No IFF. No visual match in our systems. Orders?>>

Augustus stepped out of the gunship's side, his boots crunching on stone. He didn't look back when he responded. "All troopers, reform into a defensive arc. We don't know what we are facing, but we can be ready for whatever they are."

 

[Soah Ty’Jyn]

Objective I - Storm the Tower!
The Brosian Ore Conglomerate Mega-Tower
Interacting directly with: Kasir Dorran
Eventually: PT-45 "COWL"
Outfit: x Saber: x

​

Resting Nexu Face.

That was the expression Soah gave Lysander von Ascania .

It was a sidelong, unblinking, and quietly judging skeptical deadpan expression, her tail barely twitching behind her as Lysander serenaded the sky like a lovesick Lothcat with a flamethrower for a harp. Shadows would ripple faintly across her shoulders, reacting with the same disdain she offered the heavy, clovey sweet smoke curling from his cigarrillo. It tickled her nose -- a scent both foreign and irritating -- prompting a slow scrunch, twist, and wiggle as her nostrils flared.

Humans.

Soah's nose scrunched again more deliberately this time, her mouth flattening into the expression of someone who'd just tasted something bitter.

Loud. Melodramatic. And very weird.

But her gaze soon would drift towards one she held in higher importance. She panned from Lysander and all his fire and noise as he left to where Kasir now knelt.

The mood shifted.

Ever so slowly, the Felacatian Acolyte began to silently pad toward him.

He was a silhouette against crumbled stone, folded in supplication, his armor dim under the dying light. There was a stillness to him in this piousness that unnerved her more than his blade ever had. This part -- the prayers, the reverence, the whispered confessions -- were aspects that she didn't quite understand.

The jungle she'd grown in had no gods. No altars. Just strength and survival. The only divine law was to eat before being eaten.

But this... this Wonosa... it was something else.

It was there in the way Kasir's voice slithered through the ruin like low and coiling incense smoke, thickening with every murmured suplication. And while Soah didn't grasp every word, the Force around him responded, churning deep like a subterranean tide. There was shape to it. Power.

And when he spoke her name -- Soah -- wrapped in that guttural cadence of Ur-Kittat, the ink along her dusky skin shivered. Tendrils of living shadow curled toward him, stretching through the air as though they tasted something worth savoring.

The words echoed, each syllable like the toll of an ancient bell. Soah's ears gave a subtle twitch as the cadence unfolded, foreign in tongue but thick with meaning. So while she didn't know the language -- something in her bones understood the gravity.

When Kasir finally rose, he did so like a specter summoned from the grave. Silent and purposeful.

"The tower has waited long enough. It's time.”

Soah didn't speak.

Instead, the diminutive Acolyte simply looked up at him, giving a slow, flicking blink while those slitted pupils dilated slightly, but not in fear, but in focus.

Then she nodded once, confirming both her willingness to fight and her loyalty. For she wore the armor he had chosen for her. Carried the double staff he had entrusted to her hand. From the tight braids woven by his fingers to the polish on her boots, Soah stood as the weapon Kasir had forged -- tempered in silence, sharpened by survival.

Without further ado, Soah took the helm and set it upon her head. It was a strange sensation, but with the circumstances of Broski's environment, it had to be done.

Now it was time to hunt.

 

[Delsin Shaw]

|| Objective I ||
|| Protect the Tower ||
|| Allies: | Quinn Varanin | ||
|| Enemies: | Lor'Vekka | ||
|| Equipment: | Armor | Mask | Ring | Sword | Energy Blade | ||
|| Theme ||​

Brosi is a planet that seemed at first, rather inconsequential. However, it was worth so much more to the Sith than what may have seemed. First having to deal with a host of rising dead, and transformation of the local populace into creatures. It was clear that the team I had been apart of attempting to quarantine the infection, had not done enough. This personally had upset me. A failing of the Sith to hold back what was happening to their own planets. As such, it nearly angered me to the point of losing control. However, knowing now that the might of the Sith Order was now upon the planet, reports of Imperials in the area had situated a full blown conflict upon the planet. The Imperial Confederation was attempting to use the disadvantage of the quarantine to strike the Sith. Namely the Tower. The Ore Conglomerate was attempting to hold data of the planet that they had. While the Sith were here trying to defend it, we would still have to fight through the defenses of the tower. Find a way to get the data, or protect it, without leaving a wake for the Imperials to follow.

I breathed in deeply. Holding my tongue for the inadequacy of the Order to send the right troops to contain the outbreak. Instead, focusing on the new task. Defending the tower from what would be any Imperials. I stood in the center of the room. Looking out of the window. That was, until I could feel some eyes on me. As I looked to where I felt them coming from, I registered that it was Quinn who had been peeking at me. A soft smile came to my face. She was a woman who I had at first thought would be… different. Someone who always was stuck up and hell bent on being the center of attention. I was shown wrong.

She cared in a different way than what I had experienced for the first many years of my life. She showed a softness that most Sith would see as weakness. Yet this softness, I knew was not an act, but a demeanor of someone who had dealt with much, and chose to have some semblance of peace to drown out what was affecting her. Sharing tea, biscuits and gossip. At that moment, I realised I was still looking at her as she was messing with a datapad. Likely coordinating her connections to others on the field. I knew she had a connection to the DeathDrop. Mercenary Soldiers and Commandos that would be here in the conflict. What were they doing? I knew not, nor did I ask.

For any other person? I would be prying that information from their head myself. Even if I had to use a dagger to rip their skull open. For her though, I did not feel this way. I gave her the privacy of such. Yet, there was something else. I could not quite place it. It was strange. A feeling that was in my chest I had no knowledge of. Strange, but put to the side for now. It was when I started to feel something in the force. Just as Quinn was apologizing to me.

“You ar-”

My words cut off and prevented me from continuing. It was strange. A warp in the force. My hand reached down to the belt and procured my mask. Placing it over my face. It held itself there. Closing to my visage. A soft second later my vision and senses changed. Filtering through the senses of what was in front of me. I dived deep not into the force itself, but the Anti-Force. Sensing applications of the force. Any form of the force was shown to me. My vision is highlighted in rays of cosmic colors with no name. Just images of what I could visualize.

Quinn asked for me to watch the hall. So I did. Wordlessly nodding my head and closing the distance to the door. My hand waved to let it open with a hiss. Before I slammed my gauntleted fist into the console. It sparked and sputtered before dying. Keeping the door open. I flexed my hand then lowered it to the grip of my blade. I was glad for the armor I wore. As it made me a shadow. A void to any by Quinn in the moment. My signature in the force, as well as my physical form was just a shade. A hole warping the force around it. Sure they could sense me, but not who I am, what I was, nor what I carried. One of the greatest feats of Alchemy I had learned from my father.

My eyes scanned the halls. However, that was not good enough. I pulled back. My mind separating from my personage. Hovering above me. Seeing all around me. A guardian Devil that oversaw what was around me. My main focus was the hall and any rooms within close proximity.

Yet at that time, I kept my focus on Quinn as well. My mind pulled back from my body to see all around us. Scanning the area to try and find it. Where was this void? It was right there. I could almost figure out what it was. Quinn spoke. Asking if they had met before. Without waiting, my eyes snapped back into my head. Turning around just in time as Quinn threw a Kinetite Sphere into the direction of something. The Anti-Force in my eyes found the outline. A person.

Someone hidden in the force. wisps behind their form. It took nothing to reach out with my hand and yanked all of the desks and furniture in the room to collect on this person’s position. While the initial blast of Kinetite would be a powerful blow, A host of debris being thrown somewhere, would require much more mobility to avoid and get out of. I needed to pinpoint who this was so should Quinn miss her first one….


The second one won’t.

 

[Jacen Breska]

OBJ2: RESIST THE PRETENDERS

​

WEARING:: Halcyon Armour | Contact Lenses | Wrist Mounted APG | Ancile Shield |
EQUIPMENT: MAIN WEAPONRY: | DC-902d | Sunshot Pistol | Shiva Knife |
ADDITIONAL EQUIPMENT: 3x Thermal Detonators | 2x Kushute Grenades | 3x Incendiary
LOCATION: :: Brosi - DeathDrop F.O.B. 'Imperator' ::
TAG: Saltare Dothon

This was a different engagement then any Jacen had been apart of altogether. Every other battle he'd been in he'd been attacking, dropping from the skies to assault enemy positions. Now, the reverse was true. This pretender Empire had come, and they'd come to take The sith worlds. Not that Jacen particularly cared about the holy worlds. It wasn't his religion. He couldn't care less about Dromund Kaas or Ziost. Brosi though? He'd just beaten back that plague in the factory with Drystan Creed and CT-312 . He'd fought for this rock. Hell, it was why he was on the world when the word of impending attack came through.

Most of the DeathDrop was. Most of them gathered here at Imperator base. Waiting. They had to wait for the Pretender ground forces to begin making their move. They lost their advantage if they dropped too early. DeathDrop were Attackers, not Defenders. The regs would have to hold their ground, survive the initial onslaught. The freaks in the Null, no longer properly 'human', would have to do their best until the real muscle showed up. And that time was coming.

Smoke was rising across the planet in select battlefields. Reports came in of their invasion fleet, of their plan and the swiftness of their attack. It had only just begun, to be fair, but the reports were impressive. And concerning.

The DeathDrop present, several hundred of them, all seasoned warriors of several missions at this point, gathered around several holographic briefing tables scattered throughout the hastily constructed Imperator base. Team leaders surrounded a central table, with their men and women behind them trying to see what they could. From the tables, the voice of their enigmatic commander boomed. over a holographic display of the planet.

"This is it, boys and girls," the disembodied, voice modulated shadow spoke, "this is the type of thing the DeathDrop was founded for. Finally, a proper test. We've gathered here as much of our forces as we could for this battle, to show the galaxy what you're made of."

A holographic number shown next to the planet. Almost 400. It stunned Jacen. He thought about how it started back on Woostri. Just over 30 troopers dropped into a meatgrinder and expecting to survive. From 10 survivors to 400... It was almost unbelievable.

"And I expect most of you to die." The voice continued, the number dropping from 400, to 3, to 2, to 1, and settling on 50, with 'Projected Survival' blinking into existence next to the number. The Troopers around the table murmured, some exchanged glances, some looked down at the ground.

"But don't fret," the voice continued, "Remember your motto. 'You're dead already!' Besides, we have our strategy. Stick to it, remember your training, you'll probably be fine. I'm just giving it to you the way it is. No roses, no lies, truth."

The image zoomed in on the planet and showed the battlefields and the voice continued, "Team leaders, your missions are to..." he carried on, but Jacen didn't listen. His eyes were burned on that number. Fifty.

That's what he expected. Fifty. It was insane. But hearing the rumble of battle, seeing the projections, he understood. A battle unlike any they'd seen before. Dropping from lower then usual, because the skies were cluttered with fighters, ships, and Pretender landing craft. Too high and they wouldn't survive the drop. Too low, might as well just jump out.

"...and Blackout will..... TK-710? Are you listening?"

Jacen shook his head and looked at the table, "Yes, sir."

"Good, because this is you, Breska. Blackout will drop with Dreg and Whitelight on this advance here," a red flash appeared on the map, "The Pretenders have a pretty big push going there. Drop behind their lines, clean it up. 12 Droppers versus a couple hundred Stormies. Easy," Jacen looked over to the team leaders of Dreg and Whitelight, Marc and Luc. Two troopers he's been with since Hoth. They all shook their heads at each other and shrugged, hiding small smiles.

Impossible odds and certain death. It's what they signed up for.

"Then if that's everything, get to your ships kiddos. Time to get paid." The holographic display shut off and faux patriotic music began playing from the speakers as the Team Leaders began to rally their troops. Everyone hustled to their ships, Jacen included, and met with his team. Blackout. All of them were newer Droppers, but they'd proved themselves in battle already. He slammed his helmet on and they did the same, closing the door as they all entered the ship.

Blackout's pilot, 'Talk-Box', was waiting in her seat, "God, about time," she shook her head, "There's a war going on and you're all just yapping around a table."

Jacen smiled underneath his helmet, "You got our orders," He asked. She turned to him, her eyes locking on his faceplate, "Yeah Jace. And this is insane. He's having us fly through a war zone? At that altitude?"

Jacen shook his head and shrugged, "I get it. Too high and there's too many things that'll knock us out of the fight before we get down there."

"Yeah, sure, but-" He cut her off, "Look let's just get it done. We win this easy we're back at the Bar for drinks in no time. It's just another drop, Suze, let's hit it."


A frustrated sigh escaped her lips and she closed her eyes before powering up the ship. "Then get outta my cockpit, Dropper. Fliers only." Jacen chuckled again nodded, turning and taking his seat as the fleet of dropships began to leave the covered protection of Imperator base, flying off in different directions to take the fight to the Pretenders across the planet.

It only took ten minutes of flying before the ship began to be rattled by blaster fire. The red light came on in the back unceremoniously, and Talk-Box's voice came over the intercom, "In your pods Droppers it's getting dicey out here. We're gonna have to drop quick." Jacen and the rest of Blackout team replied their affirmative and got in their pods, sealing the doors tight and getting ready.

"What is...--SHIT!" her voice came over the intercom again as Jacen slammed violently against the inside of his pod and the ship began to spin, "What happened?!" He commed, "Dreg's hit! Crashed into us, we're going down!"
"Shit, Drop us!" Blackout 2 yelled, "I CAN'T! CONTROL'S BUSTED. LOCK YOUR ARMORS, BRACE!"
The ship slammed into the ground, spitting up terrain and leaving a trail in it's wake as the ship rolled end over end. Inside their drop pods, Blackout was slammed against their pods as the ship skipped across the ground and tearing up anything it came across. Jacen's pod's mechanism holding it was busted and it began to fly about the cabin, smashing into the other pods until the ship finally came to a halt, fortunately stopping upright.

"Ah.....fffffuck..." Jacen groaned, shaking his head as he regained his composure. He reached up and pulled the release latch on the door and pushed it open, rising from his pod as if from a coffin.
"Blackout, report?" He asked, looking around the smoke filled cabin, "2....yeah, I'm...I'm here!"
"3.... Still alive," they both climbed out of their pods.
"Shit Jacen...I think my arm is busted," 4 said, weakly rising from his own pod.
"Alright, no problem Dropper, 2, see to him." Jacen said, patting the Dropper on his helmet as he passed and went to the cockpit. "Talk-Box, you alright?" He asked, prying open the cockpit door.

Her body lay in it's seat, lifeless, riddled in glass from the cockpit viewport.
"...Suze?" Jacen asked, his voice shakey. He placed a hand on her shoulder and lowered his head, taking a brief moment of remembrance. She'd flown through worse and talked the entire way though. He hated how quiet it was now. Jacen sighed, and took his hand off her shoulder, reaching past her and flipped a switch, activating the ships emergency distress call. Maybe someone could come give them some help. He took one last look at Talk-Box before shaking his head and leaving.
"The pilot?" 3 asked. Jacen just shook his head. "We gotta get out, come on."
He lifted the hatch on the ships's emergency release door and pushed it open, while pushing out the thought of his dead friend and, in all likelihood, Dreg's complete wipe out as well.

Jacen raised his weapon and scanned the area. The fight was much closer. Several hundred yards off, but within sight. He looked to his right, at the drop ships wake of destruction as it crash landed.

"Is that..." He blinked, then his eyes went wide with recognition, despite how it looked now, "WALKER. CONTACT." He shouted back jumping down from the crashed ship and taking position behind a torn piece of his dropship.


​

 

[Garza]

OBJECTIVE II: Seize the Means of Production
EQUIPMENT: | Drop Pod | Siege Cannon |
FORCES: | Terentatek | Leviathan | Chrysalide | Wyrm | War Worm | Dreambeast | Devourer | Silooth | Tuk'ata | Veergundark | Stormbeast | Xorvyrnog |
TAGS: | Srina Talon | Selrik Lorcas | Darth Morta | Saltare Dothon | Varin Mortifer | The Lord of Hunger | War Marshal Helix | Sophia of House Marr | Koda Fett | Sieliel Dimegor | Augustus Von Strauss | Velcarin | Lunaria Talon | Soldane Talon | Matteo Guo-Yian | @Open

Starfighters screaming through the air even below my head level. A deep smile as already Imperials had attempted to send some of these little vessels at me. Firing weaponry meant to take out other smaller ships. My hand swung out in an open palm. Bringing it down on a ship attempting to do a run by. It had struck me with Torpedoes, but they were not much against my flesh. My fingers clawed around the TIE version. Grasping it and breaking its solar wings. Crushing it beneath my grip into a ball. Even from hear, I could hear the scream of the pilot as he was crushed within. However, he screamed like a woman who lost her child. Taking the crushed vessel, I reared up my arm and threw it. It screamed now. Not of its natural engines, but from the force of my throw into the Confederation Ground Forces. Acting like a bouncy betty cannon ball of old. Skipping over the ground. Crushing troopers before slamming into one of the tanks. Exploding into a fireball.

Upon my shoulder was a Clergy. Holding on for their life, yet still praying for the souls of those who I killed.

"O'children of the force. May the divine wrath of Inari bring about your salvation! Bring forth your ilk so that he may bequeath a gift unto you!"

He kept going on and on. However, my attention turned upwards. I could hear more of these vessels in the sky. Roaring and screaming like knats annoying a human. I smiled greedily. Breathing in deeply, I could feel the force welling up within my maw. Its energy coalescing into a glowing form of the force. At first a simple orange flame, licking my teeth and maw, before forming into a pink color. I could feel my body burning from the collection of the force. Racing up my back as it charged. My head faced downward. Continuing to gather this force before releasing it.

A solid beam of destructive force energy erupted from my maw. Roaring just as loud as I had earlier. Its destruction broke the sound barrier. Exploding the very air it touched. Snapping whatever it came into contact with. The line drawn upon the ground waved over the troops in that line. Destroying, vaporizing and atomizing them down. Striking tanks and walkers alike. A clean cut upon the very ground. that arced up into the sky. The beam aiming to the incoming ships and vessels. Snapping through wings, hulls, and sending them careening down to their deaths, or just to explode in that moment within the horizon.

I moved my head about. Letting this destructive beam of energy slice through buildings in front of me. Cutting through the Confederation forces. Even accidentally smacking some of the Sith Spawn. Their deaths meant nothing to me. However, with this destructive force indiscriminately waving and slicing through these forces. I knew it might get someone's attention.

My voice booming as soon as the beam had ended. Drawing attention across the entire field.

"COME TO ME CONFEDERATES!"
"I MUST FEED!" ​

 

[Ronhar Tane]

CAPTAIN RONHAR TANE, TK-3301
OBJECTIVE I: STORM THE TOWER

"Keep it moving, men! We're almost there!"

Ronhar urged the rest of his company forward as he and his Storm Commandos continued their desperate advanced toward the Mega Tower, wading their way through a sea of undead bodies. Although Ronhar had had his doubts about his new weapon, he had to admit that this so called "Burnblade" was proving far more effective than he could have ever hoped for. After all, from what he understood, the weapon had been designed to slice through metal and armor just like a lightsaber could. Against these rotting, decomposing creatures, it cut through them like a hot Fire Blade through Bantha butter.

Completely and utterly effortlessly.

Unfortunately, the tide was beginning to turn against Ronhar and his men, as wave after wave of the undead abominations relentlessly attacked without any pause. Just by sheer numbers alone, they would soon overwhelm Ronhar, no matter how many of them he destroyed.

Then, Ronhar received a mysterious transmission, detailing to him a route to the Megatower. According to the message, resistance had been far greater than anticipated, but there was a secret, hidden path that Ronhar and his squad could follow to get to his objective. This particular route would get him there the fastest, and with the least amount of zombies in his way. A golden opportunity, if he had ever seen one.

Obviously, it had to be a trap. After all, between the planetary shield and the jamming efforts of his Sith opponents, their was surely no way that this was Imperial intelligence. Perhaps more worryingly was the fact that the sender, whoever they were, had gained access to Ronhar's secure communication channel.

Only a fool would trust these coordinates and willingly follow them.

Yet, the alternative was far worse: death by dismemberment, or potentially, oral infection. Though Ronhar, with all his cybernetic limbs and enhancements would probably be fine if the zombies bit him, the same could not be said for the rest of the men under his command. And he had already lost a number of them trying to reach his objective.

To Ronhar, the choice was clear.

"This way! Stick close to me! We're changing course!'

Following the directions that had been given to him, Ronhar and his men finally reached the base of the Mega Tower. Thankfully, it was fairly devoid of any zombies, giving Ronhar and his men a moment to rest. They had paused just outside what appeared to be a large rail complex, probably built for transporting and unloading the various ores and materials found on Brosi. According to his directions, this complex lead directly into the Mega Tower itself.

"Alright men, take a breather. You've all earned it."

Ronhar deactivated his sword, and all the heat that it had build up seemingly dissipated almost instantly. He sheathed it, and then took out his ZB-41 Heavy Blaster Rifle, looking down the weapon's scope to see if he could get a better layout of the rail complex in front of him.

That's when he heard screaming.

"INCOMING!"

In less than a second, his Storm Commandos had sent a barrage of blaster bolts flying at some sort of floating object. It went down nearly instantly under the combined weight of the blaster fire.

"Cease fire, cease fire!", Ronhar yelled as he turned to face whatever the threat was. He understood that his men were jumpy, but still...

Ronhar slowly approached the wreckage, his blaster rifle never pointing anywhere else. It soon began apparent that the object they had shot was some kind of droid, though it was a model that Ronhar had never seen before. As he inspected the wreck, he quickly came to the conclusion that it wasn't a combat droid, but perhaps some kind of maintenance droid. Maybe it had been abandoned by the owners of the rail complex? Still, something seemed...off about the droid's design, but Ronhar couldn't put his cybernetic finger on it.

"Farjack, Pincar, I want you to take that droid with us and analyze it. See if it can give you any useful data. After all, we're entering uncharted territory here, and I'll take any advantage that I can get."

The two Storm Commandos complied, though after several minutes of struggling, they came up empty handed. So be it. His men had rested long enough, and things were only liable to get more dangerous the longer they waited here.

"Alright men, fall in! Remember to check your corners, and watch your fire. We don't know what to expect, so keep your eyes peeled at all times. Let's move!'

With that, Ronhar took point as the Storm Commandos came up behind him, weapons primed and ready to fire...

TAGS:
Vakhari Lutris

​

 

[Marlon Sularen]

A L L_Y O U R_B A S E_A R E_B E L O N G_T O_U S
Objective III : The Battlefield is Constant Chaos

IMPERIAL CONFEDERATION
BROSI, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

​

Spoiler: Sularen's Fleet

TASK FORCE THRAWN
Main Fleet : INV Sularen's Revenge [100|100] INV Retribution [100|100] INV Judicator [100|100] INV Ironfist [100|100]
Starfighter Compliment [Squadrons] : TIE/IAx Advance Interceptors [33/33] TIE/DT Destroyer [12/12] TIE/ss Supremacies [5/5] TIE/sb Strike Bombers [3/3] GAT-36 Imperial Blastboats [2/2]

The INV Sularen's Revenge emerged from hyperspace arriving in orbit of the Outer Rim World of Brosi, soon to be followed by a trio of Imperator-I Class Star Destroyers soon joining the rest of the Imperial Fleet that had gathered above the Sith World, spearheading the Imperial Confederation's assault on the planet. Onboard the bridge of the Sularen's Revenge, Supreme Commander Marlon Sularen remained calmly seated within his command chair, flanked by trusted subordinates as he prepared himself for the coming battle.

It had been a good while since the Supreme Commander had led fleets into the battle, having last led the fleets of the Dark Empire against the Neo-Crusaders over Ithor. Now he found himself leading the forces of the Imperial Confederation against that of the Sith Order in the opening move of a larger offensive aimed at ending Sith rule over the Thandon Star Cluster. While Sularen had never fought the Sith in decades, he largely assumed that their naval doctrine would mimic those employed by Imperial Regimes, although then again it would be wise for him to move against the Sith with great caution as underestimating them could cost the Confederation this battle.

"What is the status of the fleet?" Sularen inquired. "All fleets are accounted for, save for Moff Rashnhl's Fleet." the Captain of Sularen's Flagship responded. "And the Sith Fleet? Do we have a visual on it?" the Supreme Commander further inquired. "Our sensors have picked up a single Sith warship hidden in the asteroid field, although we have not spotted any other Sith warships." the Captain answered once more. "Good." Sularen stated before standing up. "Captain. Keep the Ship in position and remain vigilant for any possible Sith naval reinforcements. They're bound to arrive sooner or later." he said before leaving the bridge.

Upon leaving the main portion of the bridge, Sularen made his way towards a small chamber which contained a freshly installed SimonE Battle Coordination Network from which the Supreme Commander could more effectively manage the military forces of the Confederation throughout the many theatres and frontlines on Brosi. As he stood at the center of the chamber, the Battle Coordination Network came live giving the Supreme Commander a full view of the various battlefield. With a smirk and Supreme Commander cracked his fingers and simply stated. "Time to get to work."

[TIC] | Ronhar Tane | Calin Rakel | Squesha | Lord Rasnuhl
[SO] | Darth Carnifex | Elmindra Xitaar | Rowyna Galeway
[Misc.] | Braze ​

 

[Dollshade]

Location: Shoengen - Brosi
Thread Objective: Storm the Tower
Mission Objective: Secure data.
Allies: Narantuyaa Asther
Enemies: Darth Prazutis

"Once we land, we move fast and break into that tower. Most likely the Sith's zombies are going to swarm us if we stay too long. Speed is of the essence here, Dollshade" Narantuyaa reminded.

Dollshade responded with a sharp nod, her expression veiled as her cowl darkened into an opaque mask—an obsidian facade that rendered her unreadable. Her gloved fingers moved in practiced sequence, giving her gear one final check. All the while, Dollshade quietly ran through the briefing in her mind. Having reviewed the mission material several times over, she had memorized almost every detail of the file. Her overseer had been tasked with seizing a specific set of data from the Mega-Tower—invaluable data regarding the Sith Order’s fleet movements, facility blueprints, high-clearance logs, correspondence, and yet more.

The entire tower was a treasure trove of information, containing the secrets needed to pierce the veil of the Stygian Caldera.

Secrets which could very well win the entire war.

The dropship landed with a sharp, jarring lurch, its belly opening to disgorge a line of flametroopers who moved with disciplined urgency, casting jets of liquid fire that carved a burning corridor through the horde. Moments later, Dollshade vaulted down the ramp in pursuit, her chakrams whirling into the fray with lethal grace. The bladed halos shrieked through the air, severing six rotted heads from grotesque shoulders in the span of a breath. The corpses collapsed mid-stride, limbs twitching as life—unlife—bled into the ground.

Another volley followed immediately after. Seconds later, five more undead were rent apart, their forms decapitated, bisected, or otherwise mangled beyond reanimation as the chakram’s vibrating edges sang in murderous harmony.

Once she arrived at the chosen entry point to the tower with Narantuyaa, Dollshade came to a stop, standing guard as her overseer sliced the nearby terminal. No sooner had the console sparked to life than when a moaning corpse lunged forward, only to be silenced mid-leap by Dollshade’s arcing vibroblade, which struck out in a merciless blur to sever its neck. Another monstrosity staggered in behind it, only to meet a similar fate when the Asset swiftly disemboweled it, slicing the zombie in twain from hip to opposite shoulder. Gore fanned out in a grim arc as the two halves were sent crashing to the ground in twitching unison.

At that point, the Asset sheathed her vibroblade and drew her machine pistol, opening up with a hail of hypervelocity slugs that detonated skulls like overripe fruits. Five more zombies dropped to the ground, geysers of corrupted grey matter and blackened ichor spilling out from the bodies and painting the surrounding earth in a morbid tapestry.

Finally, the door slid open.

"Dollshade with me. Troopers you are to hold this exit!"

“Moving with you, overseer!” Dollshade answered as she moved into the building, the doors sliding shut in her wake. The shrill howls of the undead faded, replaced by the muffled rhythm of blaster fire echoing from beyond the sealed entry as the troopers left behind worked to hold off the tide of undead.

“The data center is on the first floor, overseer. However, there’s a dense concentration of automated defenses in our path.” Dollshade said as she brought up a three-dimensional map of the floor via the holoprojector integrated into her gauntlet computer. “We can cut a path straight through...”

She paused, fingers tracing a secondary route that snaked along the map’s edge.

“...or we can try a work-around route through the maintenance conduit. It's narrow, dark, and rigged to discourage intrusion, but it will allows us to bypass the kill-zone.”

Spoiler: Loadout

• Opaline Skin
  
  • Arms
    
    • Modular Attachment Point - L
      
      • FAE/M-02 Energized Forearm Vibroblade Mk. II
    • Modular Attachment Point - R
      
      • Repulsor Projector
• Blushwheels
  
  • Enhancement Cell Chamber
    
    • Mark IV Energy Cell
• Needlewitch
  
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
    • Phase I “Susurration” Anti-Sonic Silencer
  • Ammunition
    
    • Standard Penetrator Magazine (4)
    • Void Stone Armor Penetrator Magazine (4)
• NZ All-Purpose Viral Suppressant Type II

 

[Rowyna Galeway]

CAPT. ROWYNA GALEWAY
​

ASTEROID FILED | BROSI​

SITH FLEET: Darth Carnifex | Elmindra Xitaar | Darth Malum of House Marr [Allies]
CONFEDERATE FLEET: Squesha | Ronhar Tane | Calin Rakel | Marlon Sularen [Opponents]

Ship Name​	Class + Tonnage​	Shields + Hull Status​
DCV Valiant​	Cimmerian 750m​	Shield: 100% | Hull: 100%​
DCV Veracity​	" "​	Shield: 100% | Hull: 100%​
DCV Kingsword​	Kimbrell 1600m​	Shield: 100% | Hull: 100%​
DCV Knight​	" "​	Shield: 100% | Hull: 100%​
DCV Dreadfast​	Dagger 260m​	Shield: 100% | Hull: 100%
DCV Draugr​	" "​	Shield: 100% | Hull: 100%
DCV Diligent​	​	Shield: 100% | Hull: 100%
DCV Dauntless​	​	Shield: 100% | Hull: 100%​
DCV Drake​	​	Shield: 100% | Hull: 100%​
DCV Diomedea​	​	Shield: 100% | Hull: 100%​
DCV Direwolf​	​	Shield: 100% | Hull: 100%​
DCV Dryad​	​	Shield: 100% | Hull: 100%​
DCV Decisive​	​	Shield: 100% | Hull: 100%​
DCV Myrmidon​	Mukhtiar 190m​	Shield: 100% | Hull: 100%​
DCV Meteor​	" "​	Shield: 100% | Hull: 100%​
DCV Maverick​	​	Shield: 100% | Hull: 100%​
DCV Minokawa​	​	Shield: 100% | Hull: 100%​
DCV Fearless​	Fortan 200m​	Shield: 100% | Hull: 100%​
DCV Formidable​	" "​	Shield: 100% | Hull: 100%​
DESIGNATIONS	WOLFPACK RED
B1 - B4	Bolt x4	Shield: 100% | Hull: 100%
K1 - K8	Kelly x8	Shield: 100% | Hull: 100%
	WOLFPACK GOLD
B5 - B8	Bolt x4	Shield: 100% | Hull: 100%
K9 - K16	Kelly x8	Shield: 100% | Hull: 100%

​

​

The air aboard the Valiant was cold and stale. Bitter, if Rowyna had to describe it.

Ro to her close colleagues.
RJ to family.
Captain Galeway here.

She stood where the steady hum of sensor pings, chirps, and beeps kept her and the bridge crew company. It wasn’t a formal shakedown, not by any means, but the Valiant was far from home. Far from the familiar constellations and mapped hyperlanes. Far from the stars they called theirs.

She exhaled slowly. The plan was simple: hide among the rocks, the asteroids of Brosi, and wait for the Confederation to take the bait.

“Multiple signatures on approach,” reported Operations Officer Kaelan Velra, steady and smooth as ever. “Incoming on Vector Two-Two-Five by Eight-Seven.” The half-Pantoran, half-Human officer gave the briefest pause before continuing. “Negative IFF. Spread formation. Based on recent scans, they’re in staggered position.”

Ro chewed lightly on the inside of her lower lip, not out of nerves, but habit. “Take us to Yellow Alert. All stations: stand by for Red.” She turned to her comms officer. “Ensign Olynn.”

Olynn, Human-Keshiri, had already begun keying in the command. Her fingers swept across the console as the alert klaxon echoed throughout the ship in a rising, measured tone.

As commanding officer, it was Ro’s duty to ensure her crew made it home. But today, her duty extended well beyond the Valiant. “Ensign, prepare to dispatch audio message. Commonwealth encryption, secure channels. Flag this as a Priority Aurek transmission.”

“Aye, ma’am,” Olynn responded, posture crisp. “Fleet channels are open.”

Rowyna clasped her hands behind her back, speaking with the calm, clear cadence of command.

“As all of you know, today we stand ready to defend a space not our own, a cluster of stars foreign to our charts and blood. Our Grand Vizier has pledged our support to the Sith Order. Not for their sake.”

She paused. “These Confederates are not worthy of the name ‘Imperial.’ They are pretenders at best.”

Her gaze swept the bridge. Eyes met hers. The moment was heavy.

“This is the first time our nation has seen battle beyond its borders. We go forward knowing that both the Sith and the Galaxy are watching. And so, like the First Order at Omega, we prepare to charge.”

Another pause, steady and solemn.

“Upon our honor, we made our vows, to serve, to protect, to love a nation we may not always see, but always feel. We may not count her armies. We may not see her Queen. But today, we are a fortress of the faithful. We fight for each other, and for the Commonwealth. Always.”

A breath.

“Long live the Basileus. Long live the Queen.”

A chorus of voices responded, firm and unified, echoing across the open channels.

The signal cut. Silence returned, save for the soft beeping of proximity pings.

Beyond the veil of stone and ice, the enemy approached.

“Tactical,” Ro ordered, tugging her tunic down with quiet resolve. “Begin acquiring target solutions.”

She turned.

“Commander Joran,” she said, addressing her First Officer.

The half-Chiss, half-Echani XO exchanged a glance with Commander Thassel Joran, seated at Tactical.

Their lips parted, and Selar spoke, crisp, confident, offering their recommendation. Thassel Joran’s gloved hands moved with methodical certainty across his tactical console. The Dagger-class veteran turned Cimmerian first officer rarely wasted words. He tapped the side of his station, magnifying the scan return patterns across the main display.

“Captain,” he began, his Dosuunian accent clipped and even, “the formation is deliberate. Ten ships, staggered spread. The trailing contact’s running colder than the rest, likely a command element or recon screen disguised as escort.”

He looked up, eyes sharp beneath the red glint of the bridge's alert lighting.

“I recommend shifting our forward sensor shadow and reorienting prow-axis attitude by 4.3 degrees. It’ll mask us from the rear contact’s telemetry sweep. We hold position, minimal EM signature, and let the lead ships overextend. We hit the command element first if engagement is necessary, cut the head.”

Rowyna offered a curt nod.

“Make the adjustment.”

She turned to the Operations pit. “Let’s start punching deeper. I want a deep-range SIGINT scan, spectral, gravitic, and subspace passives. I want to know what they’re thinking before they know we’re watching.”

Lieutenant Kaelan Velra’s head rose slightly from his terminal, calm as always. “Already working on it, Captain. Requesting FleetNet sync with the Veracity now. We’ll use her relay net to push our scan envelope another four light-minutes.” He paused, glancing over a thin line of code as the console lit up with handshake pings and cipher validation keys.

“Initializing tactical telemetry stitching, combining our deep-range array with Veracity’s secondary dish to generate a forward recon map. We should have a preliminary threat cluster within ninety seconds.”

The bridge dimmed for a moment as background systems diverted processing to SIGINT analysis. Subtle pulses of light ran along the starboard bridge consoles, a visual representation of passive data cycling. “Secondary gravitic anomalies appearing now,” Velra continued. “I'm seeing potential wake trails. Looks like another two ships holding vector beyond the first element. Could be tactical reserves or flanking units.”

Ro's expression shifted as she listened to her officer, "mhmmm, distance?"

"Extended long range, captain." He responded, “won’t be able to tell what they are until they get closer.”

Stepping toward the operations console, Ro examined it herself, “alright, let’s share our data with the Sith, secured channels, of course. I’d also like for you.” She turned toward Ensign Olynn, “dispatch an encrypted alert to Concordia. Let’s make sure the old Iron is on standby.”

“Acknowledged, dispatching alert to Concordia.” Olynn responded.

“Commander Joran, what are the odds we can use repulsor tech and push some of these rocks toward our opponents?” Ro asked with a bit of a cheeky smirk, only for her XO to sigh, walk across the bridge toward the appropriate consoles to calculate that exact number.

Thassel Joran didn’t immediately look up. He stood at the console, fingers ghosting across the projection field as the calculations ran. A sigh escaped him, the kind that came not from disapproval, but long-suffering familiarity. “With respect, Captain…” he started dryly, “if we’d been issued proper gravitic anchors on our bow array, I’d say seventy-nine percent success rate, give or take the size of the rock and the enemy’s reflexes.”

He glanced up, arching a brow. “But since we’re flying a support carrier and not a siege barge, best I can do is vector six to nine medium-sized bodies into their projected path. Debris density’s high enough to make it look accidental.”

He tapped a final sequence. “Recommend staging the largest cluster with a delayed repulsor burst. Give it five seconds to drift before firing main thrusters, we can force a correction maneuver out of their vanguard. Might break formation, or at the very least, piss off their helmsmen.”

Then, more quietly, almost conspiratorially. “Wouldn’t mind watching their forward shields burn some energy early.”

“Oly-” Ro was about to tell the young woman to dispatch the suggestion.

Ensign Olynn cut her off politely, “already dispatched to the Sith, and yes on secure channels.”

“Great.” Ro gave a nod and turned back toward the viewport, “let’s get a visual.”

The viewport came to life with the image of the black abyssal sea of nothingness that surrounded them along with the collection of rocks, ice, metal, but mostly just rocks.

The task force itself wasn't clustered, it was coiled.

Hidden across a thousand kilometers of drifting stone, the task force formed a crescent-shaped perimeter along a narrow corridor through the Brosi asteroid field. Valiant sat anchored near the hollowed spine of a kilometer-wide ice rock, her engines cold, signature masked. To port, Veracity mirrored her both ships triangulating sensor readings from passive emissions bleeding in from the edge of the system.

The two Kimbrell-class cruisers formed the horns of the crescent, buried deep in mineral shadows, angled inward. Their fire arcs overlapped across the corridor's mouth like crossed blades.

Daggers drifted in scattered pockets. Some were disguised as debris. Others were tethered to spin-locks, ready to burst from cover at a moment's notice. Fortans, Mukhtiars, Bolts and Kellys all scattered and each one waited for the signal.

In the middle of it all, Rowyna stood silent on her bridge. Not in command of a fleet, but of a trap, elegant, brutal, and waiting to snap shut. Plus, an ace up her sleeve, she had heard reports, read plenty of books on the imperial admirals of old. Their infamous ability to simply wait until the last minute to appear behind their opponents. Well, Ro definitely had a solution to that tactic.

Spoiler: After Action Report

DCV Valiant engages in deep scans, begins acquiring targeting solutions, ponders the idea of shoving rocks at their opponents.
Task Force Valiant is scattered among the asteroid field.
Information dispatched to Sith Fleet.
Ro made a call to the Grand Vizier.

​

​