Dominion Archaisians Never Die | Dominion of Archais | NIO

[Jaeger Harrsk]

E M P I R E _ R I S I N G
S E C O N D _ S A V A N N A H _ W A R

---

---

---

A R C H A I S
A R C H A I S I A N S _ N E V E R _ D I E

The Republic of Archais. Breadbasket of the northern Midrim. A world of industrious, yet divided people. A nuanced history where wrong was right and right was wrong. The ARCHAISIANS, the human colonizers from the Core, are once again at war with the NOVANIANS, the Arkanian and offshoot colonizers who came first. COMPNOR, through a unit led by Daros Karmann and supervised by Djorn Bline covertly lit the flames of the SECOND SAVANNAH WAR after rigging the elections which brought the pro-segregationist ARCHAIS FIRST party, led by OSKAR CATO, in power. The new prime minister immediately revoked the ABOLISHMENT ACT which had illegalized segregation in 858ABY.

The New Imperial Order has been requested to aid the REPUBLIC OF ARCHAIS against the NOVANIAN LIBERATION ARMY, the radical Arkanian paramilitary who seeks to overthrow the Republic and bring back the world under the once-existent NOVANIAN DOMINION.

Spoiler: THE SHORTEST STORY OF ARCHAIS

• Arkanians are called Novanians - descendants of first colonizers of Archais
• couple of decades of purification wars between Arkanian and Off-shoots
• old GR sends pacifying mission somewhere around 800ABY, basically colonizes the planet
• GR colonists basically segregate the Novanians
• Colonists are called Archaisians, Arkanians refer to themselves as Novanians - the name they had given the planet centuries ago when they had arrived to colonize it first.
• u have questions - ask?

OBJECTIVE I //: THE LOST BATTALION | UNDER FIRE

A New Imperial expeditionary battalion AXIS has come under full encirclement by the NOVANIAN LIBERATION ARMY in the endless savannah plains of the Outback. In a race against time, the New Imperials have formed an ad-hoc relief unit FIREFORCE are attempting to break through the blockade and rescue the lost battalion. Punch through the blockade as part of FIREFORCE or make your last stand as a member of AXIS.

The NLA does not take hostages, has child soldiers and fights to the death.

tacticool shorts only

OBJECTIVE II //: THIS LAND IS MINE | RIGHTFUL CLAIM

OSKAR CATO, the new prime minister, seeks to continue the legacy of his father - Powell Cato - famous for enacting the PEACEFUL COEXISTENCE BILL , so-called "Revival Process"; the act which effectively segregated the population of Archais and established the minority rule of the Archaisians over the world.

He has called the New Imperials not simply for military aid against the NLA but primarily for gaining support of his policies and leadership from one of the Major Galactic States.

CATO will attempt to persuade the New Imperial delegation to support the following policies and conditions.

Spoiler: TERMS AND CONDITIONS

• Segregation of the Arkanians
• Maintain status of a Republic
• Selective adherence to Imperial tenets and policies

OBJECTIVE III //: BYOO

Whatever gets you to post, chief.

// SETPIECES //:
> Archais

 

[Konrad Bolter]

T Y R A N T
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
66th ARMORED COMPANY 'HELL'S HAMMERS'
XT-62 | MBTb 'Cataphracht'

A MAN AMONG MEN​

There was basically nothing more purely satisfying than this. The repulsorlifts firing on the open ground of Archais. Home. These savannahs meant a great deal to Konrad than most anyone in Hell's Hammers, being one of the few Archaisans who left the Claimant paradise to fight as a volunteer fighter with the Core Imperial Confederation, striking divergence of the popular ideologies of Republicanism on Archais.

Now he returned, one of the conquerors, one of the liberators. They'd see the true Imperial glory.

FIREFORCE enclosed quickly on the position. Seeking to thrust his column through the enemy formation, the Hell's Hammers closed the distance with haste, beginning as a singular column before spreading out into a widened keel, a stout wedge that buckled the trees before them.

<"Dependent worms, pasty Arkanian filth have tried to rip our home away from us for generations, I come back after fifteen damn years and it's all the same damn story. High explosive, no damned mercy for these damned parasites."> Konrad commanded through the unit commo.

The anger took him, beaten into his consciousness from the Claimant upbringing he leaned back, pulling the lever to lift the seat to the command hatch, forcing it open he sat up and took ahold of the mounted repeater. The brushstroke camo cover wrapped over his helmet broke him from the stone grey coloration of his uniform but blended it right back in the with field applied camoflauge and surroundings around him.

Spotting Novanian insurgents opening fire on them from the brush, he took aim down the sights of his repeater and opened fire, grounding his teeth against one another as he narrowed his eyes.

 

[Halketh]

D O N T C O U N T O N M E
Enter The Vulture
OBJ II | RIGHTFUL CLAIM
ACCOMPANIED BY | ANGSTY KIDDO #1
_

​

Somewhere, buried under the layers wound around his head, Halketh felt the veins snaking beneath his temples throb. The pounding bass of the electric tunes his apprentice had selected for this shuttle ride rattled his bones and poked his irritation, forcing him to huff loudly with a fold of his arms on his seat: "Cassiy, sweetheart, can you please-"

"Absolutely not, this is my favorite song." The rattataki called over from her place piloting the craft, "When you start flying us, you can pick the music, until then, shush." ​

​

The Vulture stared at the side of her head with his abnormal sight, blinking rapidly in his mind's eye at the sheer level of sass he was subjected to. ​

​

"Oh don't glare at me like that-" she knew him too well, "-we're almost there. You can tolerate a few more minutes of the garbage I listen to." ​

​

"It isn't the subject of the music, it's the volume." He specified, gesturing with bandaged knife-hands out in front of him, "This craft is too small to blare music so loudly like you do the others. My hearing is too delica-" The various necklaces layered from his throat rattled and clicked against each other as he shifted, twisting himself in her direction. Then came a moment of pause and reflection, where the Warlord pondered his words for a moment. "Feth, I'm getting old." He decided, roughly thrusting himself back into the passenger seat of the airspeeder. ​

​

"You said it, not me." His apprentice snickered, stretching over to pat the outside of his left arm with a hand. "It's okay, Master Kezec, you'll pull off grey hair we-"

"-stop." ​

​

"And I think you'd probably make using a cane to walk look really cool als-"

"STOP."​

The rattataki cackled as she pressed the wheel forward, easing them down to a proper, albeit partially rough landing. Then, and only then, did she reach for the dial and turn the volume down. However, until she did, those closeby would have heard the bassy slaps of her tunes echoing from the confines of the craft, and reverberating into the duracrete below. Ah, to be a twenty-something again, Halketh sighed to himself as he gathered up his hood and pulled it up, shrouding his face beneath a blanket of shadow. "We're the first ones here?" He asked, expanding his senses to flow through the landing pad.​

"Seems that way, yeah. Do you want to wait here for the others or head inside?" ​

"Is someone walking out to greet us?" He slumped down deeper into the leather seat, lifting his boots to tuck them against the console before him. Childish.​

"Yeah, actually, it looks like some armored dude is walking this way." ​

 

[Noel Strasza]

F R U S T R A T I O N
MAJOR NOEL "DEADER" STRASZA
Julian Qar // THE CARLACI CORPS // DOOM DIVISION
AXIS

"AMBUSH!"​

"KEEP YOUR HEADS DOWN!" Her augmented voice bellowed over the screaming trails of plasma beaming over her company's head, and she pressed her face right back into the mud, barely able to find cover behind the tiny, tiny hill nestled in the rolling plain. She could no longer hear the super-charged heart in her chest slamming against her mock-ribs.

"MAJOR! THEY'RE PUSHING UP!" Briggs shouted from a little ways further up the hill.

The cyborg rolled over, cradling her rifle to her chest, and pushed herself with her heels, navigating around the tightly packed bodies and mud to slither to the edge of the hill where she could peek. The guerillas had caught her men by surprise. Dozens of dozens of them streamed out of the jungle, taking up firing positions on the plain both to their north and east. The blockade to the west kept them from slipping by that way, and the south was nothing but a thick, uninhabitable jungle. Rock, a jungle, and a hard place.

The joint-coalition of forces pressed down in the dirt there with her had already suffered heavy losses from the initial ambush, even with their equipment and scouts looking out. As disgusted as she was to see the New Imperial corpses littering the ground between the tree line and where they had managed to find refuge, what disgusted her, even more, was the nature of the forces ambushing them.

Child soldiers.

Child.

Soldiers.

It was something she hadn't seen in a while.

"Major," the voice brought her back to focus, "we have word help is on the way. Armor's moving up from the west to punch through the blockade."

From behind the visor of her helmet, Strasza nodded steadily. Her gaze shifted to the line of troopers dug in with her. "We need to dig our heels in deeper and stay put, then. Have you been able to contact to send our direct-" A bullet whizzing by too close for comfort disrupted her question. She exhaled slowly, fresh out of patience, "To send our direct coords?"

Despite the ringing in her ears, she heard a yes. "Good, then all we have to do is not die. Where's Rogue?"

"Rogue?!" A trooper echoed down the line.

"Rogue!" Another, even further away.

"Here, ma'am." The scout called from her right, forcing her head that way, as he slithered over his comrades, staying on his stomach with his heavy pack occupying his back.

"Can you and the others dig out enough room to set up your mortars? Let's lay the nails for the hammer to drive, hm?"

"We might be able to do that, granted everyone's still got their hatchets and shovels. But setting up with this little space is risky, even behind cover." The demolitionist stated, dragging a finger through the earth as he spoke to paint the picture a bit better.

"So what do you need from us, then?" Strasza asked as she stared at him intently.

"Probably about twenty minutes, at the least."

"That it?" She looked from Rogue to Briggs then, picking her head up after to peer at the crest of the tiny hill, upside down. "We still got grenades?"

"I'm out, but I think Mav and Crabs still got a few." The scout twisted his head, gazing down the line of squirming, grumbling soldiers. "'ey! Mav! Crabs! Get over here."

Had it not been a dire situation, perhaps Noel would have found humor in seeing so many different squads and their commanders huddled around on their bellies in the mud. Slug wars. That thought made her snicker.

"We use the cold 'nades to extend and reinforce our cover," she explained as her squad gathered around on their stomachs and elbows, "we need to buy the demo team time to get set up safely-"

"You want us to shoot kids, Major?"

The question made her blood run ice-cold, but she turned her attention to the woman asking it: "If... we have to... yeah..." She struggled through an answer, inhaling sharply through her parted lips after. "This shit isn't pretty and it ain't gonna get pretty until it's over with. Just try not to think about it too hard- focus the handlers."

 

[Bennett Hall]

ARMOURED ASSAULT CORPS
FIREFORCE
AT-MPT
Konrad Bolter

​

The quick, cold, and unfeeling steps of the scout walkers sounded across the battlefield. The All-Terrain Missile Platform designated Unit 1540 barrelled through the plains at the head of the relief force, no thought other than to kill. Unit 1450 was not piloted by fleshy creatures with primitive minds. No, Unit 1450 had a mind of its own: the superior mind of a droid-brain. Top of the line and front of the line in the NIO Armoured Division, with split-second calculations and more accurate firing on average.

It was 1450's first deployment, but its data banks were filled with knowledge regarding every New Imperial engagement since 858 ABY. The mission was simple: Approach the Novanian forces from the rear and break their lines. Its missiles were already primed. High explosives and no mercy was the command.

When the Arkanians came into view, hiding in the sparse Savannah forests and the tall grass, 1450 let loose hell from its rotary cannon. The dry grass, the thin trees, and of course the enemy, were set ablaze in a flash.

Out of the fire, a single anti-tank rocket streamed through the air. It hit square on the front left side of the walker's head. The walker turn it's head to the general direction of the shooter and discharge a salvo of grenades. The series of pops as the exited the launcher was an immediate sign for the Arkanians to get the hell out or get blown to bits...

 

[Julian Qar]

calculations
[ Dr. Julian Kaiser ]
Noel Strasza / THE CARLACI CORPS / DOOM DIVISION

​

“I don’t know if I c-can d-.”​

​

He’d been cut off by another barrage of shots that zipped through from the west of them. Grass and bits of earth shot up, smacking his helmet and the side of his newly affixed medical kit. Like hell, he was going to be running around with a giant red target on his back. He was there to provide support and not blow their cover. The doctor sucked in a breath, licking his chapped lips, reeling his focus back on the newly implanted hud unit. Seven heart monitors in an array with names and faces attached to each swiped from left to right in that newly fitted opulent lens. Hopefully, this one he wouldn't rip out.​

​

Julian pressed his body further into the ground, hoping to be one with the earth at that moment as they assessed their situation and The Major informed them of their next course of action. While he listened, he dug out two small dips a few inches apart, carefully urging the rifle from his side and pressing its two tripod arms into the soil. That keen emerald eye pushed into the scope, surveying what combatants he could see from his position. He wasn’t interested in gaining any kills that day, his focus was in their armory, what rounds were being shot at his comrades - it made for better calculations of care when the inevitable would happen. ​

​

Someone was going to get hurt.​

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

BLUE-HEART BATTALION

OBJECTIVE I: THE LOST BATTALION

ALLIES: Jaeger Harrsk Willan Tal Konrad Bolter Noel Strasza AT-MPT 1540 Julian Qar

'Milord, you never told us we'd be landing on Archais! You do realize where we are, don't you?'

Having been sent to quell the NLA's efforts as best as he can, Lord Erskine was all too aware of where the 2nd Battalion were being sent, and had been thinking on the matter for some days before deploying from Thyrsus; some of his recent ancestors had deployed here after all, as colonists attached to those of the Galactic Republic, in times that would've been much simpler for the Galidraanis who'd settled on Archais for a time. However, what many of the Blue-Hearts hadn't known was that Erskine's uncle had commanded the rear-guard actions, and consequent counter-attacks that prevented what could have become one of the worst military massacres in the Galactic Republic's storied history; his knowledge of the affair was sadly quite limited, but Barran knew that his cousin Ollis would be all too willing to regale him with the details.

'Of course he does, Moran. Lord Erskine's uncle saved a lot o' lives here, even took the fight to the Novanians and beat the everloving kark out o' them! Isn't that right, Milord?'

'As far as ah know, Myles. Aye.', the Lord-Major began, looking over the Cataphract-commander's shoulder to see what the distant gathering of riflemen were doing as he weighed the rest of his response with consideration. The topic of Archais was still quite touchy among both the home-dwelling and exiled Galidraanis alike, so opinions on the matter were usually quite mild and considerate in comparison to the Galidraanis who'd settled on Archais' great wildneress. Maintaining this almost-flippant outsider's viewpoint, Erskine continued,'But yer really askin' the wrong Barran, if yees ever meet mah cousin Ollis, he'll happily tell yees aw yees need t'know.', with as monotonal a reply as he could possibly muster.

'Aye, they'll no be teachin' any history o' the sort back home, eh? Shame really.... Bravery's always going to be treated subjectively by scholars and teachers alike, Milord.'

'Well, they'll no be teachin' any history o' the sort in a positive light anyways. Ah'll grant ye that much, Gowrie.', Barran replied, interrupting himself by a double-take and subsequent inward self-reminder that the young Leftenant was in fact of intellectual aristocratic-heritage; and thus had access to the best of education curriculums, and the best choice of academies to enrol in. Bringing himself back to the conversation at hand, aware that all the other officers were still fully invested in the discussion, especially as they still needed to wait on the vehicles being brought off the landing-crafts, the Lord-Major addressed the matter of bravery with as simple a response as his mind could conjure at the time, opining,'An' as for the scholar's archetypal view of bravery, what would an insulated educator of the young know of the hardships we endure? They've never known exile, they've never known war, all they've known is yielding to higher powers.'

'A fair point, Milord.'

'There's a reason we never see their sort this far from the comforts of Galidraan, not unless they're exiled as we are; an' that reason is cowardice almost every damned time, understand?', Barran replied, searching the gaze of his subordinate for signs of those same leanings, only to find the young Leftenant nodding in full agreement. Surmising that the Galidraani university didn't agree all that well with Gowrie, the Lord-Major felt assured enough to leave all his suspicions there to be forgotten, but first making sure to leave his last (and most-opinionated) say on the matter,'Heroism wasn't subjective here when everything fell t'those Novanians.... The Republic's Galidraani colonists weren't safely rooted oan their home-world, scribblin' supposedly-brave things oan a datapad in the hopes the right people caught them in the act. So, as far as ah'm concerned, the academics can stick their,"Subjective", where the Galidraani sun don't shine!'
​

​

 

[The Fool]

OBJECTIVE II //: THIS LAND IS MINE | RIGHTFUL CLAIM

The NIO delegation would be escorted into the chambers of the conference room within the Prime Minister's Office and offered tea and crumpets - a testimony of their Galidraani heritage. When the doors closed behind, the ambitious Prime Minister Oskar Cato would greet them with his charismatic voice and twice as charismatic moustache.

"It is quite my pleasure to welcome you to Archais, albeit the...situation." he said unperturbed and continued, "We live in a period in which Imperials are not very popular and believe me you have my sympathy. We live in a period when Archais can only survive by vigor and by action. We have resources of intellect, of energy, of craftsmanship, of skill, second to none in the Midrim, but those resources must be mobilized for a great effort of a united world. To do that we must take our courage in our hands."

"Unfortunately our partisan foes of the Novanian Liberation Army seek to topple these efforts and sow discord and chaos as they have always done. The Sovereign Imperator does quite remember the struggle to uproot terrorists from our lands and for his efforts we are thankful."

"I am well aware that there is a cost to your aid, as there should rightfully be, however, we cannot sacrifice our core tenets that have built this great world for it."

"I am sure you understand."

Halketh | Irveric Tavlar | Grrwunhoooll Agaburry | Enlil | Lucien Dooku | Caarlyle Rausgeber

 

[Don Belkora]

OBJECTIVE III //: BYOO
BANDIDO
COMPNOR
N I O
Tags: Jaeger Harrsk Konrad Bolter Halketh Noel Strasza AT-MPT 1540 Julian Qar DECEASED Erskine Barran Rika Hiro
Location: Somewhere on Archaisia

Novanian rebels. He knew them from way back before all this mess, a shifty lot who often were to be found frequenting the weapon bazaars of Nar Shaddaa and Tattooine. You could find one on nearly every planet that a criminal or insurgent called home. They were no noble sort like the rebels of old or the various bleeding heart movements lurking in the Imperial borders or backwaters of the Sith domain. These were fething killers, killers who took no hostages and didn't spare any souls. Strangely he respected it a lot; it was brutal honesty in all its naked form and appearance. Don had no time for no saintly revolutionaries and rebel alliance wannabes playing moral dress up to justify their existence. They were killers like him and his kind who they called bandits and terrorists. The only thing that divided them was methods and how they obtained their goals.



Don exhaled the last precious tokes of his cigarra and turned to face three captives bound with their heads covered by black sacks, a weak light above illuminated the three who were surrounded by balaclava-wearing gunmen belonging to Dons operations wing of COMPNOR. Don cradled a ballpoint hammer in his free hand and tightened his grip around the wood handle. If these unfortunate individuals didn't talk soon or sing the ratting out on their comrades tune, Chief Belkora would make sure they'd be on disability benefits for the rest of their existences. And that was if he didn't deem them being alive a future security threat to Oskar Catos burgeoning government.



"Now gentlemen, you're gathered on this splendid occasion because you are men of the NLA and important ones at that, I suggest you start singing because I didn't come here for no picnic."​

​

 

[Willan Tal]

OBJECTIVE I //: Lost battalion
Brigadier General Willan Tal
1st Galidraani armoured infantry volunteer brigade
1st Battalion 'fighting first'
N I O
Tags: Jaeger Harrsk Konrad Bolter Halketh Noel Strasza AT-MPT 1540 Julian Qar DECEASED Erskine Barran Rika Hiro
Location:

Archais was a planet that not many Galidraanis visited in their lifetimes, and yet it was a core topic of a lot of Galidraani politics and foreign policy. Initially founded by Galidraanis aeons past, many within the parliament and security forces of Galidraan either held a deep connection to it or were repulsed by its existence. It divided the conservatives and liberals within the parliament, with Galidraani foreign policy flip-flopping between clandestinely supporting the colony with military advisors and weapons to sanctioning it and condemning its mere existence. Though one would argue, the liberals used it as a crutch to criticise Galidraans conservative party and the security apparatus of the state forces excessive fondness for arms trading.


Tal had been a young officer sent on loan from the Galidraani security forces when he first visited Archais decades ago, alongside several other fellows from the officer academy he had been there to give combat advice and training to the burgeoning Archaisian officer class. It had been a relatively peaceful occasion and save from the occasional insurgent attack he had a rather splendid time. However, times had changed and what had once been lone wolf attacks now developed into professional guerilla operations against the state. Something he and the rest of the command in the Galidraani volunteer forces kept well in mind.



<<"Tal to Barran over, scorching day old boy, keep an eye out for those NLA snipers and mines, one blasted a poor chap from my battalion an hour ago over.">>

If it weren't for the AC in his cataphract tank, Tal might've shot himself and joined the poor sod who got blown to smithereens. Though he digressed, scorching heat was perhaps not on the same level as one being blown up by an improvised explosive device.
​

​

 

[Enlil]

A R C H A I S • O B J E C T I V E • T W O

T H E • K I N G • A N D • I

He sat with fingers splayed on the table, drumming idly. The King looked on with a seemingly vacant expression as Prime Minister Cato made his remarks. Regrettably, there was no representative for the Novation Liberation Front, and so, Enlil had to make his own assessment of the situation with what little he had. Obviously, there was no middle ground. No attempt to come to the table and speak for peace, and now a blatantly obvious play at the removal of the opposed faction.

These things did not make for a fair hearing, nor a mutually beneficial resolution. He allowed the man to finish before he finally spoke. "Minister Cato," the King gestured, "it is my understanding that you are asking us to enact segregative policies that would otherwise divert the natural exchange of culture between peoples on this world in an effort to bring an end to apparent hostilities," he brought both hands together and folded them neatly in front of him. "And so it must be considered: no delegation from the Liberation Army is present for these proceedings. No one has heard anything but dissension, and the Iron Sun has risen over this world to stamp out conflict on your behalf because you are unable to resolve these matters by your own effort."

He leaned back in his chair and regarded the man cooly, his gaze unfeeling. "Furthermore, in spite of your blatantly ineffective leadership, you ask us to turn a blind eye toward your folly and allow you to continue operating under the false pretense of Democracy, and effectively limit Imperial interventionism on Archais."

Enlil blinked once, slowly.

"You are a respected leader among your people," he said, "so let the record show that I have taken your requests into consideration." His gaze turned to ice as he made a gesture to command the book keeper not make note of his next words. "Off the record, however, my patience has limits. You look to us for an end to your problems then spit in our faces when our expectations are inconvenient. Make no mistake, the Imperium has an extremely low tolerance for things that breach protocol, and what you are asking flies in the face of law and order. I would at best consider a short term separation of your respective civilizations to ensure a peaceful transition and assimilation into the New Imperial Order followed by a multi-step reintroduction protocol. Segregation at its core is harmful and obstructs intellectual growth by codifying cultural and ethnic bigotry. It has no place in our nation, nor any world that seeks to become a part of it."

Enlil turned his hand over and made a vague motion toward the Prime Minister. "Further, you are in no position to make ludicrous demands," he explained. "Democracy is chaotic and inefficient. Given the already frail situation on your world, continued adherence to a system erratic and indecisive would in no way lead to unity or a resolution to your conflict. Instillation of a Warlord or Moff proper, effective immediately, would be sufficient to secure a more peaceful transition. We have attempted to be understanding and accepting of prior regimes in the past and seen continued conflict and reduced quality of life on Imperial worlds as a result. We are not fond of repeating mistakes that we have already corrected."

He managed a smile, albeit forced. "With these things in mind, perhaps you would like to reassess your requests?"

The Fool | Irveric Tavlar | Grrwunhoooll Agaburry | Halketh | Lucien Dooku | Caarlyle Rausgeber​

 

[Nima Appw'rii]

G e n e s i s _ A c t u a l

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
OBJECTIVE I //: THE LOST BATTALION | UNDER FIRE

​

The woman had taken one look at the political climate and weighed the cost of putting a blaster bolt through her own head. Nima still fathom the dynamic, there was something about core world colonists? Or had she misunderstood the briefing, though the cramped room and dodgy holo feed could hardly be described as informative..? She fucking hated COMPNOR.

Artillery echoed in the distance over the roar of armor. Hell’s Hammers was ruthlessly driven through the blockade. The approach had been painful. The squads of Genesis flanked the line, barrels burned as plasma whizzed past. The grasses of the savannah smoldered and burnt black from the heat as they spread out across the arid terrain. There was no good cover out here, and the charge had been ordered.

<”Evil Eyes One drop smoke and push the encampment-move!”> Nima yelled over the link, heaving for breath as she dropped a spent round. The rifle clicked as she slapped in a fresh power cell, weaving between the fast moving armor. Sweat was building on her brow already. The ground shook as a mortar hit the tree line and she stooped low. A mushroom of dirt and splinters bathed the lines, fire igniting amidst the treeline of the NLA resistance.
The comms were a flurry as several gauntlets tossed out their canisters, black smoke dressed the field in a thick curtain and raced across. A steady wave tracked their movement over the radar as they waded in blindly through the dampened smoke, it was every man for themselves. The platoon did not idle, the faint shouts of NLA fighters and machines lost to the drum of war. They descended upon the dugouts, low hanging branches whipped at her screen and arms as she hit the ground.

Nima’s rifle was locked down in the sights, wavering as she stared at the kid clutching a blaster-aiming it back at her; dirt smudged his face he couldn’t of been older-

<”Drop the weapon! Drop the weapon!”> Nima screamed, her voice muffled by the layers of blast plate. She hadn’t signed up for this. What the fuck had they signed up for?

Intel or not, she had been glad to say she hadn't had to kill a kid up until this day. The talk amongst squad hadn't been thrilled. Thick tar smoke still clogged the trenches, a repeater was chewing up the lines somewhere down the dug out. The crack and echo of the firefight in full swing and the kid shook. Nima’s eyes widen the boy hefted the gun up, she sucked in a sharp breath her finger falling on the trigger-

Fuck fuck fuck.

Djorn Bline​

 

[Kainan]

FIREFORCE
LEGATE ACTUAL
Konrad Bolter , Willan Tal , DECEASED Erskine Barran AT-MPT 1540, Nima Appw'rii
Noel Strasza , Julian Qar
​

Few obstacles were able to withstand the power of a roving Juggernaut.

Archais, mostly being made up of savannahs, plains and open field, none of those obstacles existed.

The Juggernaut, doubling as a troop transport in FIREFORCE's Strike to relieve AXIS, followed on the path set by the HELL'S HAMMERS. Pulling up the rear, Kainan only saw open fields in every direction as they closed on their destination. Climbing up the ladder that was dropped down in front of him, the Imperial Knight clambered up the rungs. At the top of the Juggernaut, the hatch lifted, and the Force-wielding youth pulled himself out of the monstrous vehicle and rose to his feet.

The Force used as a counterweight for his balance, the Knight could see a Walker up ahead firing into the flora.

In his ear, a gruff voice crackled to life, illustrating the engagement of allied forces. After the momentary distraction passed, he nudged the edge of the hatch with his foot. After a moment of footsies, it closed, sealing itself, and with the wind in his hair, he knelt down, shrinking his form on the moving vehicle.

The latent energies of the world were drawn in, the Force filling his very being before it surrounded him. Kainan leapt forwards, as high as he could, his form skyrocketing forwards into the underbrush, lightsabre in hand. Energy and focus all melded together, his body spearing through the rising smoke and carnage below him before he landed. Feet hitting the ground force, sliding across the earth through the underbrush and into the ranks of the NLA.

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

1st ARMOURED GALIDRAANI-VOLUNTEER BRIGADE
BLUE-HEART BATTALION

OBJECTIVE I: THE LOST BATTALION

ALLIES: Willan Tal Jaeger Harrsk Konrad Bolter Noel Strasza AT-MPT 1540 Julian Qar Kainan

<"Tal to Barran over, scorching day old boy, keep an eye out for those NLA snipers and mines, one blasted a poor chap from my battalion an hour ago over.">

'Aye, Milord. Bit warmer than our usual fare, but I'm sure we'll manage. An' as for the other matter, my condolences, an' rest assured we'll be wary. The New Order's soldiers carry the numbers of the fallen, and fight their hardest so as not to become the numbered burden for others, an' ah know you already carry a few numbers o' yer own. Blue-Heart Alpha out!'

It was a tense day for all on the ground, Archais would be no walk in the park for the Galidraanis in particular, as the weather never truly agreed with their preference for cooler, greener landscapes than those they'd be advancing through. Such conditions had also worked against the likes of Lord Brennan Barran when he fought back against the Novanian hordes years before, taking considerable damage in the process due to the weather fatiguing the old knighted-Lord and his men, but it was nowhere near enough to stop Brennan's best-and-brightest from cleaving through every Novanian who stood in their path; even with the humidity, heat, dust and insects sapping their collective will to fight, Erskine's uncle had still managed to secure a safe evacuation for the Republic-aligned colonists, and with nought in their possession but obsolete blasters, vibra-tech blades of almost every variety, and unbridled fury at his regiment's disposal.
Must've been a helluva scrap for them, ah really should ask my cousin more about the matter when ah get the chance.

<"Milord, found something ah think you should see for yersel!">

Looking over to find Captain Shugg with a detached scope in his hand, pointing over beyond the periphery of the Lord-Major's right eye; turning to face the new development with his attention fully devoted to it, and saw that, even with the morning glare of Archaisia's sun slightly obscuring Erskine's view of troops from the Fighting First winding a distant NLA flag down from it's formerly fully-hoisted position. Detaching the scope from his personalised SA-35 rifle, Barran looked closer to find the rest of Tal's column were bearing westward behind the 1st Battalion's scouting riflemen, just as the Blue-Hearts were. Whilst keeping his gaze firmly fixed on strafing the north flank, looking for any potential sniper nests to the west from there, the Lord-Major quickly hailed his adjutant on comms,'Ah wouldn't be wavin' like that, Shugg. No here! The NLA's snipers just looove picking off opposing officers on Archais, mind?'

<"Copy that, Milord. Rallying the riflemen for a westward sweep in the meantime, Sit-Reps will be seldom-sent unless we find NLA troops along the way. Blue-Heart Bravo out!">

With his adjutant stepping to action with at least some semblance of autonomous authority, Barran could easily set Guardian Company to work as he made southwards towards an old, abandoned house with an aesthetic that much suited that of other planetary tastes in the galaxy. Even through the decay, the crumbling remnants of the colonial estate in the distance still managed to appear quite anachronistic against the wild backdrop. Silently signalling for his guardsmen to halt, the Lord-Major freed his blaster-pistol from it's holster as he took a quick look around the surrounding area, muttering,'G-Company, on me!', as he turned round to face Rhone, waiting for all the right faces to arrive as Barran framed his orders to be cohesive enough for them.

'Any movement-orders, Milord?'

'Just a moment, Rhone. Still waitin' oan Baird iht the back- ah, there he is.... Aye, we're surrounding the place an' bearin' in slowly.', the Lord-Major responded, only raising his voice to be heard by all after he saw the half-strength company were all within earshot. Being only ten miles or so from taskforce AXIS, Major Barran knew not to tempt fate whilst behind enemy lines, so Erskine chose correctly to address Guardian company as quietly as possible, beckoning them all closer as he muttered.'No a single peep fae Shugg on comms yet, but that doesn't mean the NLA aren't creeping around here somewhere. So, Rhone will lead the encirclement efforts from the south, an' you can leave this southward push t'me and the 4th Platoon. Keep yer traps shut unless directly contacting myself or your company commander, aw'right? Good, move out!'
​

​

 

[Noel Strasza]

H A R D C H O I C E S
MAJOR NOEL "DEADER" STRASZA
Julian Qar // 2nd DOOM DIVISION "THE WATCHMEN"
DECEASED Erskine Barran Nima Appw'rii Kainan Willan Tal
AXIS

Major had joined the others from her dwindling numbers in laying down covering fire, caught in a desperate position where hard choices had to be made. Children, undoubtedly indoctrinated and brainwashed into thinking they were heroes protecting their world from bad guys had been raised against them. It made her sick. What kind of cowards were these NLA leaders? She was eager to find out and that cowardice would cost them absolutely everything. The tunneling sights of her rifle focused her and she pivoted on point to squeeze the trigger, dropping another one of the taller soldiers as he scrambled between positions. ​

The bolt slapped back, then slammed forward once more.​

Another muffled pop. Another enemy down. Those mechanical motions now manifested as everything but as she moved with elegance suggesting she was still of the flesh, and not a mere shell housing human consciousness. The few of her squadron that weren't scraping at the earth desperately were alongside her but dispersed enough along the grassy knoll to aid in forcing the guerillas to heel. And it was by her order that the counter-attack of leadened hellfire spewed across the plain as wrath opened its ugly maw to yawn. Target down. Target down. Bodies littered the earth faster than she could keep track. ​

Pinned down as they were, they were still a professional fighting force.​

They would hold this ground, or they could die and pave the way for the armor to roll through clear it after. ​

As detached as Strasza was from her actions in those moments, as she was forced to do something she never would have wished, it was a bullet splattering the grey matter of Mav's skull across her visor that sent her plummeting back to reality and scrambling to flatten herself back out on the ground. She didn't want to believe it. She couldn't believe it. Not after so many years of working alongside him. The cyborg was plunged into a pool... and she was drowning. Sound muffled in her ringing ears, that whine becoming distant and distorted as synapses fired off far too rapidly for even her implants to process. Beneath her helmet, her crimson eyes blared at the lifeless corpse she crawled towards, only to grasp at the scout's shoulders, and shake him.​

"Mav!"​

He was still alive. There was a chance, right?​

"Mav! Let's go! Get up!" Desperation bled into her layered, digitized voice. Where computers couldn't portray emotion, what little humanity she had left seemed fully capable. The paradoxical sound was gut-wrenching. ​

Her sensors weren't picking anything up but the body heat slipping through the cracks of his armor and the blood rushing from the hole punched out of his temple. ​

"Mav-?" ​

"Major!" ​

Who said that?​

"We've got it set up! Awaiting your orders!" Rogue was suddenly on top of her, gloved hands wrenching at her arms to get her attention and pull her down, out of the line of fire as it was forced to box them in even tighter. ​

"What's the ETA on our reinforcement!?" The cyborg shouted snapping right back out of her emotions and to duty, feeling the oily lubricant wetting her eyes starting to pool along her bottom lashes; a damning dichotomy. ​

"We aren't sure; one of those bastards has a jammer."​

"And no one thought to-- son of a queen-" the cyborg smeared what was left of Mav across the front of her visor, streaking and cleaning it simultaneously. "We've got no way to let 'em know we're blowing holes in their direction, do we?" ​

"Not currently, no ma'am!"​

"We better be quick, then. I want Tyco- get over here. I want you to get your reflector and lay back on the hill. They're coming from the south, flash danger to 'em. Hopefully they're paying attention." The cyborg pulled her arm from the demolitionist's grasp and ejected the mag of her weapon, replacing it with a fresh one. "Doc, you're with me. We're protecting Crabs and... well, me now with Mav de-down-" she fumbled and tripped up on her words, "-let's go." Noel reached across the scout's corpse to pluck the cold grenades from his belt and palmed them. There were only two. This was going to be tight.​

"Briggs, Penny, you two find the jammer frequency and work it back. I need to send a message to those we got comin'. They're gonna have a hell of a ride in."​

"Aye, Major."​

With her squadron on the move once more, Strasza reached out quickly to knock the side of her fist against Julian Qar 's chestguard. "Focus," she said to them both, drawing a breath through her nose, "breathe. Stay with me." Five words, she offered him, before crawling right back through the muck, and getting herself into position.​

 

[Zaavik Perl]

THE LOST BATTALION
Galatic Alliance
SIA DEEP COVER OPERATION

'LIEUTENANT WHITEY'
66th Armored Company 'Hell's Hammers'
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
Konrad Bolter

---

---

​

Lieutenant John Whitey, born and bred Imperial. Graduated top of his class in the Nirauan Academy of Warfare in 862 ABY, earning him a commission as First Lieutenant. Transferred to the 66th Armored Company circa one week ago. Sensor Operator for XR-62 'Tyrant' under CO Major Bolter. Hates Sith, loves the Imperator, and aspires to earn a spot on COMPFORCE.

The assumed identity, and the makeup and hairdye obscuring his Zeltronian heritage was the best cover Zaavik could have asked for.

<"Dependent worms, pasty Arkanian filth have tried to rip our home away from us for generations, I come back after fifteen damn years and it's all the same damn story. High explosive, no damned mercy for these damned parasites.">​

Zaavik cleared his throat before speaking, doing his best to throw his lax tenor vocalizations into a deeper, dignified Imperial timbre. "Hard copy, Major. We'll show these-" He hemmed and hawed for a split second, trying to fabricate misguided racial hatred to concoct a prejudice-charged remark. "Goblin-fingered Ivory Apes-" Good enough? "-What happens when you infringe on Imperial homeworlds."

He feigned a haughty laugh as he glanced back down to the sensor terminal, tacking on designations to indicator blips and clearing misscans.

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

1st GALIDRAANI ARMOURED-VOLUNTEER BRIGADE
BLUE-HEART BATTALION

OBJECTIVE I: THE LOST BATTALION

ALLIES: Willan Tal Jaeger Harrsk Konrad Bolter Noel Strasza AT-MPT 1540 Julian Qar

Drawing nearer to the colonial homestead, the grey exterior it seemed to retain grew steadily two-toned as they continued to approach it at a slow, sneaky pace; the white paint that covered every floor but the roof-slat tiles up top, though the decades-old sooty residues of blaster-impacts were more visible by the time the Blue-Hearts had reached the surrounding woodland groves. What had seemed grey from a distance was actually white with hundreds of blackened circular impacts and charred breaches all over the wood-and-brickwork of the crumbling estate's foreign aesthetic, giving caution to the 2nd Battalion's company of guardsmen as their minds readied and anticipated for the remnants of horrors long-forgotten by the Novanians who still lived in these lands.

'Barran to Guardian one! Remember Trastoch's passages? "The bones of what lies in war's wake concern not the eyes of the steel-hearted, nor the decaying armour they once wore.", yes? Ye better take note, Rhone. For much resolve can be found in places like this,"So derive from this whatever, and however thou wilt, young man!". All units - advance!'

<"Copy That, Milord. Pushing northwards now, Guardian one out!">

<"Rhone to Blue-Heart Alpha! All rooms, and all buildings cleared - this estate's been abandoned for years, not even a single booby-trap to be seen.">

'Barran to Guardian one! Copy that, now search every building for traces of the colonists who once lived here. Blue-Heart Alpha out!'

After roughly ten minutes of collective rummaging, several items of Republic and Galidraani origin had been discovered, hidden away in drawers, safes and cupboards all around the homestead; but the items that retained the most-valuable insight for Barran were the snapshot-albums in the painted-white house, revealing quite a lot about the estate's most-prominent settlers, and covering quite an extensive timeline for the Lord-Major to sift through. With the flags, antique blasters and vibra-tech blades of almost every variety being uncovered, it wouldn't take Lord Erskine very long to find the face of his uncle among the pictures of the unknown colonists, and when he found his first picture of the slightly-younger face of Lord Brennan Barran, (standing with his subordinates, drinking and cavorting amiably with the settlers) Lord Erskine knew he'd come to the right place.

'There's mah uncle Brennan! Ha! Crazy roaster went a'travellin' eventually!'

After pulling the snapshot from it's sleeve in the album-book, Barran drew the image closer to his eyes to see if he could recognise any other faces, and to his surprise, a spritely young Ollis Barran was drinking himself silly in the background, though slightly obscured behind Lord Brennan's Vibratech-Greatsword. Chuckling away to himself, Erskine was in the process of slipping the photo into his jacket pocket when he noticed a message scribbled on the back, making the Lord-Major more curious than ever. Drawing the item closer to his eyes again, Barran couldn't help but smile as he recognized the handwriting on the back of the snapshot, look at the not-so-well hidden message;

You like my sword, traveller?

Nice, isn't it?
Tough break, I took it home with me. Hope you don't mind. But there's a
consolation prize hiding in the attic, though it's not quite as large as that
sword you saw on the opposite side.

Regards,
Brennan Barran,"Lord of the Outback's Ashes"

'Rhone, get a ladder an' crowbar up here! Ah'm gawn up the attic!'

**YES, I HAVE COVERED UP THE BOOMER-MOMENT YOU ALL SAW EARLIER​

​

 

[Willan Tal]

Wrong account!

 

[Don Belkora]

OBJECTIVE III //: BYOO
BANDIDO
COMPNOR
N I O
Tags: Konrad Bolter Halketh Noel Strasza AT-MPT 1540 Julian Qar DECEASED Erskine Barran Rika Hiro
Location: Somewhere on Archaisia

Belkora took a deep breath, the simple gesture enough to unnerve the second NLA captive who's sack had been removed from his head and was bound before the Compnor commissioner. Don paced back and forth across the room as he lit up another cigarra and brought it to his lips. The first one of the captive trio was defiant in the face of questioning. Don beat the man to death with the ballpoint hammer for his stupid act of bravado until the hammerhead had splintered off and buried itself in the now still corpses forehead. Two of Belkoras men dragged the body away from the poorly lit room, the only indication of what had occurred to the other captives was the pool of blood that snaked out of the room and the sounds of a man screaming in agony. In some way, it was both a mercy and torture that they did not see what happened, yet they heard all the same despite wearing sacks over their heads.

"I- don't know their names! I'm a just a soldier, I have no ties to the leadershi-"


" I want a name, not a get out of jail card lie, my good friend,"

Don sighed and held his hands out and shrugged, turning his back on the captive to face the table of torture instruments. He picked up a knife and examined it with some bemusement and curiosity before placing it back down. When not directing payments to the organisation's friends in the underworld and keeping the books for Harrsks blacklist of undesirables and political enemies. Don spent a lot of time directly dealing with people of interest to Compnors ambitions in the galaxy, and more often than not he found himself dealing with future missing person cases like the three NLA men his boys picked up.


"Please don't make this any more drawn out than it has to be, make it easy for yourself my friends."

​

​

 

[Djorn Bline]

P U N I S H E D _ S N A K E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
ARCHAIS | UNDER FIRE
ARMOR

Everything was under the clause of plausible deniability on Archais. This fight? This insurgency? All from a domino effect when he and his agents interfered the democratic elections taking place on Archais. A war bred secretly, exploiting the emotions and tension that had been bottled up between the human colonists and their Arkanian neighbors. Peace was temporary under the last administration of Archais, yet it wouldn't rid the history of prejudice and anger between the two rivalry species. Outright Imperial occupation would trigger a unification against the New Imperials, but that was a prediction based upon observation made by COMPNOR analysts. That was one scenario they wouldn't risk creating.

But this path they walked on? It was ideal to have their presence accepted with minimal hostilities. What seemed to be a warm, friendly hand carried poison to trick the Archaisians to cast aside their long traditions of Republics and Democracy. It wouldn't happen today, but it would come tomorrow.

Everyone in rank where mostly soldiers belonging to the Imperial Army and Stormtrooper Corps. They had their order to act upon, but the truth would forever be hidden from them not knowing what they were truly fighting for. A truth that would be buried by lies, all created from Djorn and his operatives. And yet, it would something he would have to live with forever as a taint on his conscience.

Wouldn't be his first sin he committed.

<"Genesis, you hurt?">

He came down in the arid dugout right after Nima had shot an adolescent, thus ending their life upon the pull of her trigger. The dugout had a man size tunnel which led to a complex cavern to other dugouts connected to the one they were in.

<"Let's go through these tunnels and see what we can find. Are you with me still?">

Almost as if the current events were indifferent to him with reports of children acting as militia for the Novanian resistance.

<"Hey, don't sweat it. It's not your fault, nor theirs. There's little we can do.">

An attempt to ease her thoughts, try to make her feel less guilty. There was little to say when shooting a child that was conscripted to fight for something they didn't understand.

<"Come on, I'll take point.">

Nima Appw'rii​