Prophet of Bogan
Ast Kikorie had once sat at the edge of known space, a lonely sentinel perched on the rim of mapped hyperspace lanes where the known galaxy thinned into rumor and speculation. From its orbital platforms scholars and watchers had long peered outward, ancient telescopes hanging like silent guardians above the world, their lenses turned toward distant stars no one had yet claimed. It had been a place of observation, of patience, of quiet vigilance.
Now its purpose had turned inward.
For the Sith Order, the observatories held little appeal beyond passing curiosity. Knowledge for its own sake rarely survived long in the shadow of conquest. What mattered was position. Ast Kikorie lay along a vector that opened pathways deeper toward the Core, a stepping stone through which fleets could advance with speed and certainty. Control of the world would anchor supply lines and give the Order a forward base from which to press their advantage. Its conquest had not been debated for long. It was treated as inevitable, another mark to be struck from a long ledger of campaigns.
The keyword being was.
The first indication that something was amiss came quietly. Scout craft dispatched to survey landing zones descended through the upper cloud layers and simply vanished from contact. No distress calls, no telemetry drift, no debris fields detected by long range scans. They were present one moment and gone the next, swallowed by the planet’s atmosphere as though it were an ocean closing over a stone. Attempts to reestablish communication returned only silence, sensor returns distorted by interference that could not be cleanly categorized or filtered out.
Undeterred, command proceeded as planned. The invasion timetable allowed little room for hesitation, and the assumption remained that any localized disruption could be overcome by mass and momentum. The first wave of the main assault force launched soon after, hundreds of shuttles and drop craft streaking toward the world in tight formations, their hulls glowing as they cut through the upper atmosphere. Confidence remained high aboard the fleet above. Whatever resistance waited below would be crushed beneath the weight of numbers and firepower.
The planet answered with violence.
As the descending armada pushed through the thickening clouds, a surge of ion energy erupted upward in a sweeping wave that rippled across the sky like a silent storm front. Systems flickered and died in an instant. Guidance thrusters cut out. Navigation displays went dark. One by one the craft lost control, their descent turning from disciplined approach to uncontrolled plunge. Hundreds of hulls tumbled through the clouds, contrails twisting as pilots fought dead controls and failing power.
Those few vessels equipped with hardened shielding managed to remain operational long enough to glimpse the second layer of defense. Anti air batteries, concealed across the surface, came alive with precise and devastating fire. Lances of energy reached upward, picking targets with methodical efficiency. One after another the surviving craft were struck, breaking apart or spiraling down in burning arcs that scarred the cloud cover.
Within minutes the landing force had been shattered.
What remained fell scattered across the surface, isolated pockets of survivors cut off from one another and from the fleet in orbit. Communications arrays refused to function, long range transmitters choked by the same atmospheric interference that had swallowed the scouts. Attempts to relay warnings upward failed again and again, signals dissolving into static before they could escape the planet’s grip.
Now the remnants of the invasion scramble amid unfamiliar terrain, gathering what troops and equipment they can salvage from the wreckage. Command structures are being improvised in the field, perimeter lines drawn where possible, wounded triaged under the shadow of smoking hulls. Above them the fleet waits in uneasy silence, blind to the full extent of the disaster unfolding below.
And across Ast Kikorie, unseen defenders begin to close in.
If you've survived the crashing shuttle or pod that you arrived to Ast Kikorie's surface in then you shouldn't consider yourself too lucky. That was the easy part. Now with the invasion forces scattered and in disarray without a means of proper communication no real plan can be organized at the moment so it falls to one simple objective.
Survive. Link up with whatever survivors you can and find some defensible area to hold up in until you can make sense of the situation. The locals seem to have shielded much of their military and urban assets from the ion waves so the boldest and most capable among you may be able to seize control of these assets and turn them to our advantage. Carve your own landing zones and gathering points from the enemy piece by piece if you must, and if possible be sure to alert the fleet in orbit of the dire situation.
The source of the ion waves appears to be a towering spire looming just outside of the shielded Kikorie City, undoubtedly fortified and well defended. Receiving any aid or reinforcements from the fleet in orbit will be impossible as long as the spire is still functional which leaves only one option. A full on assault.
Gather what forces and allies you can along the route towards the spire and assail it with all you have. Few vehicles have survived the ion wave and the crash landings so wit, tactical prowess, and raw Force power will have to substitute in a siege. Disable the spire by any means necessary and the skies will be cleared for landings once more.
While the campaign centers on breaking Ast Kikorie’s defenses and securing the world as a staging ground toward the Core, the conflict has exposed far more than military targets. Ancient observatories, sealed research sites, and scattered settlements now sit in the shadow of invasion, offering opportunities for reconnaissance, recovery of lost data, investigation into the planet’s unusual atmospheric interference, or encounters with locals who have long lived beneath the watchful arrays. Not every story here must unfold at the tip of a blade.
The disruption of sensors and communications has created pockets where small operations, exploration, diplomacy, or Force driven experiences can unfold beyond the main battle lines. Whether securing sensitive facilities, uncovering forgotten infrastructure, rescuing stranded forces, or pursuing mysteries stirred by the war, Ast Kikorie offers space for narratives that run parallel to the conquest even as the larger campaign presses forward.
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So we in the staff backroom had a fun idea for this thread that we wanted to try and we hope that you're all as excited about it as we are! Objectives 1 and 2 will be a sort of lottery as it were. Not unlike our Secret Sith Santa, those that sign up for either of those objectives will have randomized writing partners who will be revealed to you when the thread launches! Having some unusual and perhaps never before seen pairs sounded like a fun thing to try so don't hesitate to throw your hat in the ring and leave your writing partner up to fate. Of course you will be free to link up with other writers along the way, and Objective 2 is even designed around that, but at least at the start you'll all have a new buddy to write with and hopefully find some new rivalries and alliances flourishing as a result!
For those that aren't as interested in the lottery idea or just want a somewhat more chill thread then Objective 3 is gonna be your ticket, its a sort of BYOO with some flavor to help get you started!
Taeli Raaf
has already expressed some interest in fiddling with the telescopes in orbit for example. So whether you want to have a mystery partner or something more traditional this thread has it all for you!
