At Last We Will Have Revenge [TSE Dom of Mon Cala Hex, AL,27]

[Darth Carnifex]

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Space over Dellalt
Hundreds of vessels, thousands of them even, began to trickle in over the smogged world of Dellalt. One by one, fleet by fleet, they began to congregate in ever increasing numbers so that they appeared like a seething shroud that covered Dellalt until barely any color from the planet below could be seen from above. They had come here for one mission, one glorious purpose delivered to them by their exalted Emperor who watched with barely contained glee from the bridge of his dreadnought, the Behemoth.

-{The fleets are assembled, your Magnificence. They are ready to move on your order.}- Sharpened nails loudly clinked against shimmering glass as Emperor Carnifex paced back and forth as the voice of AQUILA relayed information that he had already divined seconds earlier.

They were ready.

At long last.

Distant memories of humiliation and imprisonment flirted across his mind, stoking the coals of anger in his furnace heart until the air around him turned sickly with rage. It was on a world not so distant from Dellalt that he had been cast down by the Jedi, his titles stricken from him as they clasped irons around his wrists.

An Emperor deposed, an Empire laid low.

Now he stood on the precipice of vindication, and his blood boiled at the opportunity to reap a terrible harvest of vengeance. “Alert all commands, prepare to jump into hyperspace on the Behemoth’s mark.”

Several seconds later all ships in the system, large and small, turned towards the black-plated dreadnought as it winked away into hyperspace.

They all would follow soon after.


Mon Cala
The Behemoth would emerge out of hyperspace right on the edge of the Calamari System, several thousand ships following its example right behind it mere seconds later. Their arrival spurred the equally large mass of warships above the watery world of Mon Cala to answer in kind, a swarm of warships over a kilometer long emerging from behind the cover of the ring-shaped shipyard to form a defensive screen between the Empire’s fleets and the planet behind them.

Fighters were launched, smaller ships diverted all power to forward shields as they braved the volleys of enemy fire to close the distance. The large warships held back and made use of their long-range weaponry to pound at the enemy formations to try and wedge open gaps in their lines.

A green streak of energy erupted from the Behemoth’s prow, slicing through empty space before slamming into the center of the Mon Calamari’s formation and exploding with such tremendous force it displaced several nearby ships and completely obliterated those caught in its direct path.

A swarm of transports and atmospheric gunships took advantage of the opportunity to bypass the defensive line and make a beeline for the planet surface. Each of them had their own priorities, some would attempt to seize control of the capital city, while others would try and board the massive shipyard encircling Mon Cala, while a small select few would be charged with dispersing a lethal biological agent into the world-spanning ocean.

The Battle of Mon Cala had begun.

​

Objective I: Capture Coral City
The key to securing any world for occupation is to control its capital, the heart of its infrastructure. Take it and we will be one step closer to grinding all who oppose us into dust. But to take Coral City will require two coordinated assaults, one on the above-water superstructure and another on the older underwater cityscape. Both will involve difficult and dangerous fighting, but none can resist the Sith for long.

Objective II: Occupy the Orbital Shipyards
The Shipyards of Mon Cala have been supplying our enemies with warships and starfighters ever since we first established ourselves at Bastion many years ago, but now that the era of opposition is coming to an end. Take control of the shipyards, kill anyone who resists us and detains the engineers and architects. We will assume control.

Objective III: Poison the Oceans
The Mon Calamari will never acquiesce to Sith rule, they will unceasingly resist against any attempts to occupy and govern their oceanic world. This cannot be allowed. We have come into possession of several biological agents that will allow us to poison the oceans enough to take the wind of their sails, stymying any possibility of planetary resistance before it can take up arms. The native Quarren have allied with us to carry out this monstrous act and in return, their societies will remain untainted by the Sith’s wrath.

Objective IV: BYOO

 

[Sian Jerikao]

He was a specter.

And Sian held the idea with pride in his veins, his training had made him like that, nimble feat and a shadowed body. Hiding away such lethal killing potential, raw savagery would indeed have been useful here but as his transport practically crashed into the hanger, trailing flame and smoke after being clipped by some of the enemy firepower. He would wait...yes, wait like a good predator.

One hand launched out, grabbing more of the internal infrastructure of the ring that kept it steady. He had been scaling the ceiling of this place, listening to the shout and shots of the Legion forces that had accompanied him fight against the defenses within the Shipyard. It was amusing enough, the enemy had kept them pinned for now: they had made it grossly challenging for forces to advance out of the hangar. A shame.

It wasn’t going to last.

None of them had actually thought to look up, an amusing trend Sian had noticed during his time as an assassin. After taking another small throw to now stand above the formation of pitiful little Mon Cal...he hated the taste of Mon Calamari, so there was nothing for him here but murder.

And then he dropped.

With nimble grace he landed on one of the warriors with a sickly crack, standing on not but a corpse now. And then the flurry of his sword began, heads from necks, arms from shoulders, gore was flown through the battlefield...his forces weren’t having trouble making it out of the hangar now.

 

[Darth Prazutis]

http://i.stack.imgur.com/6caSh.jpgOver Dellalt as thousands of ships massed one sat at the beating heart, one massive black plated dreadnought that struck fear into the hearts of the enemy. It was one of the crown jewels of the Sith-Imperial Navy: the Goliath. Deep in the ships superstructure atop a black throne stood the Shadow Hand, his eyes transfixed on several massive holo screens projecting the image of Mon Cala. The air around him was thick and the atmosphere felt wrong, it was dangerously uncomfortable and dangerous even as there was a certain edge feeling like right before a dangerous fight, like violence could erupt at any moment. The very feeling could inspire terror in even the strongest men and women.

It was rage.

Mon Cala brought up memories of the past for not only him but for his family, his blood, his nephew [member="Darth Carnifex"]. It was the sight of his greatest humiliation at the hands of the entire Jedi Council, the day when he was deposed and hauled away in chains. He was forced to watch helplessly as his family was hauled away and without anything he could do to stop it. All of that anger flooded back looking at the very image of Mon Cala and while it was a lifetime ago, it still hung in his mind. But today was different, it would be different. Today he would unleash his rage on the people of Mon Cala who had long stood against the imperials, they would never willingly bend to the Empire.

So they must be broken.

The power of the Great Terror from Beyond would be unleashed upon the Mon Cala, its world would be poisoned and their people butchered.

​

The Goliath emerged on the systems edge as one of the first ships alongside the Behemoth, as the massive war fleet surged behind them. A swarm cut down from the skies unlike anything ever seen before, a large force of unique, archaic ships cut into low orbit and stopped just within the atmosphere. But unlike many others falling through the skies these were not transports that might've contained many of the battle hardened legionnaires of the Sith-Imperial Legion. They didn't contain mercenaries, or cultists and they didn't contain members of the brotherhood.

Out from within these ships came a billowing swarm, a massive black cloud of buzzing and flapping wings whose very sound carried like thunder down and across the waters. Behind this cloud came streaks of inky darkness that tainted everything that came into contact with it, a toxic cloud of madness and corruption. This massive cloud descended like a ravenous swarm heading straight for the superstructure of Coral City and they would attack anything and everything that they came into contact with that wasn't of the Sith. But behind the insectoid horde came a true danger, a surge of drop pods fell through the skies like a falling rain, carrying an unbearable stench of corpse gas in vile, gale winds. These would be carrying the very first wave of what could be only described as a living nightmare, a horde of demonic spawn created through the great Lotek'k and manipulated through the Lord of Lies experiments. They came in many shapes many sizes, from slick, slippery hides to hard chitin, they all oozed the toxic ichor that pumped through their veins.

These demons were bound to the will of the Dark Titan commanded through their hive mind he had but one objective for them: death. They would slaughter the Mon Calamari and their ilk until he chose to reign them in. Their very presence in large numbers would spread the madness of the Terror from Beyond and their taint would as time went on warp the very environment into a void blighted hellscape. If the Mon Calamari would not bend to the Sith Emperor then they would be broken. Only victory mattered and a lesson given. What mattered was how many he would cleave down before they were given mercy. They would give the sea dwelling people a day to remember and cleave a scar so deep into their culture it would last for generations. Millions would die screaming at the hands of fang, claw, blaster, and blade, but countless others would find themselves a fate worse than death, a madness that would shatter their very minds and blight their souls, a madness that would linger until it stripped everything away but the husks of twisted agonized puppets.

They would remember the day that Kaine Zambrano and the Sith Empire returned to Mon Cala.

​

 

[Decimus]

Objective IV: Eliminate the Mon Calamari Fleet

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T87psTIktTk&feature=youtu.be​

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Mon Calamari. It had once been a target of the Confederacy of Independent Systems during the Clone Wars, where they had attempted to eliminate the Mon Calamari monarchy and place the Quarren Isolation League on the throne, until their later betrayal. Suffice it to say, General Aut-X sought to rectify the mistakes his fellows had made, and gain some semblance of revenge for such a defeat. A statement had to be made, and he was determined to be the one to do it, by eliminating the pride of Mon Calamari. Their cherished fleet.

Aut-X's flagship, the Malevolence, led his armada in the advance on the enemy fleet orbiting Mon Calamari. Torrents of turbolaser and cannon fire were already being unleashed at the enemy fleet, while swarms of Vulture Droids and Tri-Droid Starfighters engaged the enemy X-Wings. Aut-X himself sat contemplatively upon the bridge of the Malevolence, watching the battle unfold. He'd kept his vessels holding their current position for now, merely bombarding the enemy at range while the fighter battle raged on between both fleets. "Inform the Emperor that I have engaged the Mon Calamari fleet, and to prepare his forces aboard the shipyard for the off-chance any debris from the battle hits those facilities..."

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Kuzo]

Mon Calamari​

Objective III​

[float right]

[/float]


Swathed in heavy robes and mask, the diminutive figure over seeing the dispersal of one of the biological agents was a familiar one in the empire. Dr. Vain Jar'He was often about when jobs of this nature were at hand. Never one to sit back and assume it had gone the way instructed, she needed to be there to see the work done properly.

Say what you would about the acerbic scientist, but there was no unwillingness to get her hands dirty.

Even beneath the mask, the face matched the expected- not that many knew the true face of Doctor Vain. The number could be counted on one hand- [member="Darth Carnifex"], [member="Darth Prazutis"], [member="Farah"], [member="Dr. Jain Ve'Rah"]....

Honestly, Irajah Ven couldn't be more delighted by how easy the Zambranos had made it for her.

In truth it hadn't been easy, not the lead up. Her initial agent had failed to lay hands on the good doctor during a particular window and Irajah had not known when a new one would open up. And then, a windfall. The connection to [member="Kalak the Raykkan"] paying off beyond anything she had expected when they had first started their partnership.

It helped that Dr. Vain was very, very rude.

Despite her general dismissal of Vain and her disinterest in her as a human being in her own right, rather than just a cheap copy, Irajah had to say that she was impressed with the virus the clone had cooked up. She didn't feel at all bad about taking credit for it either. After all, her brain had created it, just in a different skull. It was elegant, simple, and skirted around the problem of infection leaping over to the Quarren- such a closely related species but the clone had done it.

The beaked mask tilted over the water, watching as preparations were made to begin dispersal.

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Objective III/IV - Testing something... new

[member="Irajah Ven"]

Continue the work of Vul Isen. That had been the command from the Emperor to the Triumvir of Power and the sorcerers, scientists, and alchemists that answered to her. She had researched what he had been working on, Sea Leviathans and a viral spore that had been responsible for nearly cleansing life on the planet. The Final Protocol from the days of the One Sith, Darth Krayt's command to cleanse a bastion of resistance to Sith rule for thousands of years.

The Emperor did not want such wholesale slaughter, as the Quarrens had allied themselves with the Sith, and neither did she want it. There were too many interesting species that could be studied and experimented on in the oceans of Mon Cala. While they had replicated the viral spores, just in case, her followers had decided on a targeted virus specifically for the Mon Calamari species. It would end up altering their genetic code, deleting vital parts of their DNA or changing it into a viral RNA strand. It could kill in minutes... or it could mutate the subject... or render them completely sterile.

But she was not overseeing the deployment of that weapon personally.

No, she had left that to more capable hands. She was standing on an open ramp of a transport, watching her personal forces carefully handle the currently dormant larva she had created. A new breed of Sea Leviathan was about to be born, their baseline creature a mix of a Leviathan and demonsquid from Aquaris. Once they hit the water, they would awaken... and then the fun would begin.

"Throw them in."

 

[Vestille Thumahra]

Vestille Thumahra​

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Orbital Shipyards, Mon Cala​

Objective II :: Secure the Shipyards​

Space was as dangerous and as sadistic as the Galaxy's most dangerous planets-- One slip or fault could result in a painful, drawn-out demise.

Alas, this was the playing field of General Thumahra and his 7th Field Army as the Empire's gaze fell upon the oceanic world of Mon Cala. As various units moved into position, the fleets took up their formations and the careful handling of the deadly biological agent was underway, it was clear that out of the three main plans of play presented to him during the command briefing that Vestille and his men would find them facing an environment they were rarely deployed within and facing dangers that were stacked atop the already mounting threats of the defenders and their equipment; space was a hostile environment, though a shrewd one at that-- Rather than make its dangers known from the get-go, it would simply wait for that hull breach or that lack of oxygen and only then choose to strike and wrap its influence around the necks of those caught in peril, suffocating the very life from their bodies with those fortunate enough dying within a matter of moments. Regardless, despite the rather significant threat and the fact that the 7th would be split time and time again to be able to reach every possible objective and provide as much assistance as possible, General Thumahra had confidence in his troops and those that he had picked to be cast as leadership across those countless men under his command. If there was anyone that could achieve what was needed in the orbit of Mon Cala, it was them.

And their time was soon approaching.

Their task was monumental but ultimately backed up and planned to absolute detail. Whilst General Thumahra had personally briefed what had been known to become the 1st Amphibious Assault Company, composed of Legionaries trained in underwater combat and subjugated races that were capable of living in such conditions, and tasked them with assisting the assault on Coral City itself alongside other Legion elements, it was the 7th that was to conduct the assault on the shipyards and defensive platforms themselves as well as sending contingents as boarding parties to enemy ships of high threat to neutralize and perhaps even commandeer and assist with the destruction of the resisting fleet that sought the defense of their homeworld. The plan, overall at least, was to strike fast and with an overwhelming sense of threat on multiple locations in a bid to ensure that the Mon Calamari had too many fires and not enough resources to extinguish all of them. General Thumahra and his staff had sat and carefully planned every minute detail, ensuring that whatever could possibly go wrong during their assaults on the numerous stations and vessels was recognized and countermeasures planned to be deployed in the event that said event actually occurred. Logistics had been altered to provide each Legionary with an additional oxygen tank; making sure that their defense against the vacuum of space was as best as it could be. With all said and done, all the 7th had to do now was wait-- And the passage of time would call upon them soon enough.

As they deployed into orbit, boarding their dropships and spewing from the numerous ships of the Sith Empire and filling the void with their endless numbers alongside fighters, bombers and the turbolasers and debris that would soon become obstacles and dangers to both fleets, shipyards and platforms themselves, the 7th split and took to their individual objectives like a swarm of drones. Of course, casualties were unavoidable, transports being blown out of the sky before they had even reached their destinations and the labyrinths that lay within the vessels and orbital structures of the Mon Calamari would take a toll upon the zealous and hardy troops of the 7th and their allies but, ultimately, a sense of accomplishment was held over their heads by not only belief in themselves but the belief placed unto them by their superiors. Every man and woman who donned the armor of the Sith Legion and fought in the name of the Emperor would push themselves to the very limit and, if need be, give their very lives to the achievement of the goal that they had set out to obtain. All they needed was their first man inside each of their objectives and all would fall into place-- Or, at least, that was what they believed.

Their General was watching and the Emperor had given his instructions-- They would not fail.

 

[Darren Quinn]

Objective I: Be the weapon, seize the city.
Location: Coral City, underwater cityscape.
Post Nr. 1

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Thump. Splash.

In the skies above, a battle raged. Starfighters twirled and pirouetted in their dance of death, great hulks of cold steel drifted across the void, flashes of green and red sizzling against straining shields.

Thump.

Outside, darkness reigned. Schools of fish fled, submarines ferried civilians towards the safety of the depths, speckles of light grew on the horizon.

Thump.

Inside, there was only silence. The small group of grey-clad men and women sat alone in the dark, the only source of light the soft crimson glow of their helmets' visors and the blinking of a lone display panel.

Thump. Thud.

With a slight tremor, contact was made. Breaching charges were set, weapons primed.

Thump. Boom.

With a bang and a screeching groan, the hull yielded, spilling forth the small vessel's deadly cargo into the city proper. Rifles primed, sights down, combat adrenals flowing freely.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

 

[Fiolette Fortan]

MON CALAMARI​

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Battlegroup Elidibus​

Aboard the HIMS Elidibus​

Objective II + IV​

[member="Vestille Thumahra"] | [member="Aut-X"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] |​

​

Fiolette Yvarro stood aboard the HIMS Elidibus as Morgause updated the rear admiral on the objectives at hand. "Prepare the 52nd." She ordered and listened as the artificial intelligence relayed her orders. While General Thumahra would dispatch his 7th Field Army, the rear admiral would dipsense the 52nd Infantry Company known as the Iron Talons. A name earned during the invasion of Dubrillion. Aboard the Elidibus the company would prepare their transports to deploy to the surface they were to work alongside the 7th and ensure that the Sith Empire's objectives would be met on this day. Meanwhile, Battlegroup Elidibus, as so named until Fiolette and Taeli could come to some form of an agreement on a name for their fleet - emerged from hyperspace as part of the massive armada that now descended upon Mon Cala.

"Hold our position," she ordered and watched as foresign ships were employed upon the intial bombardment. "Move to the shipyards, secure them, enact defensive screen Cresh-Nth-Besh." Morgause complied information on the signatures that the Elidibus read from the ships. Quietly Fiolette moved within the command center and studied the data provided. It was as she studied the data presented that Captain Tarkin alerted her to the 52nd's readiness. "Deploy the Talons."

The artificial intelligence carried out the order as a swath of transports departed the Elidibus's hangars and headed for the planet's surface. All under the watchful eye of an experienced commander, who had seen many a planet fall before one imperial banner or another. This one perhaps held more meaning for the Emperor who would surely delight in the planet's submission. Blue eyes shifted from the console and looked past the holo projection of the fleets, rather they now looked at the bombardment and the Mon Calamari fleet. She wondered how long they would wait before engaging or how long this particular friend of the Empire would wait before rushing into the fray. "And so we wait." She said beneath her breath, "Captain Sentongo alert Commander Pavanos, deploy our fighters."

"Yes Admiral."

It was going to be a slow and brutal fight, and Fiolette decided to dig her heels.

 

[Dahu Nobis]

Objective I

The sound of metal rumbling and flak bursting was all he could hear from beneath his helmet. The shaking of the dropship was all he could feel beneath his boots. Fresh stormtroopers and the red light before them all was all he could see before him.

This was the frontlines. After many trials and training, Dahu found himself where had aspired to be for years. Adrenaline was starting to surge through his body as he felt the dropship slowing as it neared its destination. He was ready, perhaps more than any of his squadmates. His blaster rifle rested, butt on the ground and barrel against his abdomen.

He was ready.

The dropship touched the ground of the capital city. The red light ahead of Dahu turned green just before the dropship's doors slid open. Almost immediately, a barrage of blaster bolts was unleashed on the ill prepared troopers in the dropship. But, Dahu managed to remain unscathed by some miracle. Perhaps it was the Emperor's grace granting him invulnerability in the face of chaos and dissension. As the barrage was halted, Dahu quickly moved forth, finding himself cover behind a nearby destroyed wall. He watched as other troopers moved up, some were shot down, others managed to get into cover much like Dahu. From his somewhat safe position, he fired off several times at the opposition, taking out a couple with each peek. But their numbers. They seemed endless. What kept him going is knowing that the Empire would prevail as it always had.

So he kept fighting.

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Objective I/IV
Secure Coral City
Secure Ven Estate

​

The Mon Calamari were a long time supporter of the Alliance, and the predecessors. Nemo Ven, the military leader that Coren Starchaser followed through the beginning of the Alliance, and served as a Commander under. His military background had placed Coren as a Commander before becoming the latest rendition of the Marshals the New Jedi Order were known for. And when the call came from Mon Calamari, the Alliance in Exile had launched a detachment of its Core Fleet from the Outer Rim Coalition, to link up to the Sentinel Roving Line. The fleet knew that the Mon Calamari had a number of ships already deployed.

The Spear of the Alliance reverted to real space around the water world and the Vaemath Commodore contacted the Mon Calamari fleet. A pair of smaller Mon Calamari cruisers from the Core Fleet and Roving Line were escorted by the picket carriers and anti-starfighter corvettes. Pulling away from the fleet, the Niathal shuttles were pushing forward, and Coren grabbed the crash webbing as he slipped into the cockpit.

Grabbing the intercom, Coren nodded. “Strap into something. Sith are here, and we’re doing combat landings.” Tapping the Mon Calamari pilot, Coren slipped into the pilot’s chair. Feet on the rudder pedals, and pushing the engine to full, he the pilot pushed all energy to shields and engines. A juke and jike and the Niathal was hitting the water near one of the cities, the engines shifted from starship to underwater propulsion.

“Prep the weapons, we’re docking with one of the cities.” The Niathal pulled up to one of the docks on the city and Coren pulled himself from the chair. Moving to the back, he grabbed his Ancile shield and blaster rifle. “Alright folks, we’ve got Mon Cal needing to be saved, we get them safe and evacuate. I know that the Ven family has at least two cruisers within this city. And we can use them in the Alliance.”

And for the Republic. Stepping out of the ship, Coren activated the Ancile shield and started taking shots at the Sith troopers. They were getting more and more bold.

[member="Romi Jade"]
[member="Narses"]
[member="Rick Kaloo"]

 

[Rick Kaloo]

[member="Coren Starchaser"], [member="Romi Jade"], [member="Narses"]​

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OBJ: I/IV​

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Retrieve corporate assets, reunite Joa and Ast Kaloo with their son​

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Mon Calamari was Rick's home, and he would never give it up.​

​

As he exited hyperspace, determination filled every part of him. Rick would evacuate his company's vessels, sending them to the safety of Silver Jedi and ORC space. He would retrieve his parents before the Sith did, and take them under his own guidance. But likely his hardest choice was destroying the headquarters of his company, even if it did deny the Sith a major production facility.

The Blade had been Rick's second home for two decades, being with Outer Rim, and to an extension, Ne-Cal, since the very beginning of the company's existence. Rick had won it in an intersystem lottery, making him one of the luckiest individuals in the galaxy. He had reaped the benefits since, employing thousands and producing an ever-growing array of products. He had so many memories in its various offices, cavernous hangars, and rows of experiment rooms that Rick could no longer count them. But he would rather see the facility destroyed than hijacked for the benefit of darkness and cruelty. Rick could never live to see the greatest asset of his company, based off benevolence and supporting the weak, be turned into a factory where its vessels killed millions of innocents.

Five Twinkie light cruisers emerged from hyperspace in an X formation above Mon Calamari, directly above the district of Coral City where The Blade resided. Then, the operations split into two parts.

First, the cruisers painstakingly trained their guns on the very facility most of them had been produced from. However, they held their fire, their crews not yet being able to confirm what company assets remained within. That would be the job of Mal Vic, a good friend of Rick's and an assistant CEO of ORME. He sat in the comms unit on the command bridge of the central Twinkie cruiser, where he enacted a Type E Crisis.

A Type E Crisis occured when an ORME world was being invaded, and the outcome would not favor the company's continued presence. It had never been enacted before, but now war was right on ORME's home court. During a Type E Crisis, all Outer Rim Military assets present on the world would flee to safe systems. Now, upon hearing the crisis and seeing Sith above their planet, dozens of ORME ships fled their hangars. Ships in the process of production were salvaged and their parts put onto transports as they fled as well. Workers flooded out of their offices, taking shuttles or frigates out of the system, the braver of the crew taking arms and entering the city in support of loyal forces. As the last of the ORME staff and vessels left their facilities, hyperdrives set for SJO space, two communications officers on the three hundred fifty fourth floor finished their code and opened up a stretch of planetary shielding directly around the Blade. As the officers boarded an Essex starfighter killer and soared upward, Mal commenced the order to open fire. As a steady stream of turbolasers pounded down on the massive factory, Mal felt tears begin to form.

The second part of the objective involved Rick descending down onto Mon Calamari through the opening in the planetary shields, with an Essex starfighter killer of his own. After undocking from the central Twinkie, the corvette entered the atmosphere, leaving the area just in time to avoid the crossfire. As Rick looked back, he witnessed his greatest achivement begin to catch on fire. Once the central reactor core was hit, there would be a massive explosion. Multiple emotions flew through him at once, and he was tempted to fly back and try to save the facility. But Rick had another task to perform. The corvette entered a series of massive apartment complexes as Rick searched for the residence of his parents.

 

[Narses]

Objective I/IV
Secure Coral City
Secure Ven Estate
Hold the line

“The Alasodabaya will soon have this planet in their grips, secure the prime assets and buy our friends time.” A distorted voice crackled from the transports comm speaker, occasionally stuttering every time the cruiser rocked from missiles that barely missed it and its entourage of troop transports and fighters.

Commander Shahori pressed the button to activate landing mode. Instantly, flashing lights on the control panel indicated that the cruiser was about to enter above Coral city . The veteran Mirialan rebel buckled up and put his hands on the control stick. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t necessary to touch any of the instrumentation, but protocol demanded it and protocols were there for a reason. The clouds flew by at an increased pace until the foreground went from the shelter of the clouds to the mesmerizing deep-blue of Mon cals primordial oceans.

"Josuu prepare the troops for urgent departure, we will be hitting the city soon and i don't want to see you or your men give a single inch of this city without Sith blood being spilt."

“Yes, Commander,” the Captain replied and gave him a rigid salute.

While Josuu grabbed her helmet, and made to leave the bridge of the ship, Shahori wished whoever was going to ride the transports good luck. Working with Captain Josuu was rarely a pleasurable experience. Though he had to admit she was a great soldier, she lacked empathy. Her gray eyes always made him feel uneasy and whenever he was unfortunate enough to be under their gaze, he was sure she was considering how best to trade his life for another victory. Even though her original company from the Dominion days had been most notable for its successes and victories, it had also taken the most casualties. The head of their organisation favoured Josuu as a blunt object that did any task no matter what the cost or danger involved.

When she was gone, the Commander spoke again.

“Corporal Morosh, you're gonna take a detachment to the Ven estate and cover alliance operations in the estate from Sith advances. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir!” he exclaimed, already with his helmet under his arm and on his way to be about his task. Most people obeyed Commander Shahori without question not because of his authority, but because they trusted him.

The ship veered from side to side as the pilot pulled maneuvers. The sound of blaster bolts against the shields of the ship reverberated throughout the hull and Shahori became still as he leaned on to the console to steady himself.


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There was a brief moment of sickness and an end to the senseless maneuvers which meant the transport had escaped the Sith anti air barrage. A heavy clank told everyone that the landing was complete.

“Lower the ramp!” One of her men called amidst the distant explosions and ricocheting blaster fire that hit the transport. The ramp was released with a resounding metallic clang against the street floor. Almost immediately, the street was filled with the noise of blaster fire, red bolts flying everywhere. It was hard to see anything from all the way in the back, but as the groups rushed out with their blaster rifles trained on either flank, she saw the corpses of the unlucky few who first charged down the ramp. She was the last to exit the transport and she was took back by the sheer size of things. She had never been close to Coral city before and it dawned on her how large it actually was. They were moving across to the deserted side street which offered cover from Sith fire at the end of the street.

“Keep firing!” Josuu shouted and pointed at the gate up ahead at the end of the side street which led into a comm station overlooking the district around the city centre. “That gate dead ahead! Second group, move up! First and third, spread out!”

The second group moved up to secure the gate, the blaster bolts flew back and forth even across the street where her transport had landed the unit . She couldn’t see exactly how many legionaries they were fighting but the mass of black at the end of the street dropped fast in numbers as they fell dead from blaster fire or took cover. She spotted one or two wounded legionnaires who had been hit still crawling around in agony in between the crossfire. Another was being dragged by two of his comrades but that only made them present easier targets for the Mirialans. Josuu watched emotionlessly as the two dragging the wounded Legionnaire were gunned down mercilessly.

“Get the gate opened! Go! We need to secure the comm station!”

Seconds later the gate was blown open by charges, 2nd squad and 3rd squad rushed in while 1st squad stayed behind to cover the street. If they could hijack the station without any major opposition, it would make it easier for them to disrupt Sith comms to buy time and also cause the Sith logistical problems on the ground.

OCC info:
Alasodabaya roughly translates to black cloak in Mirialan. A slightly derogatory term for Sith.

[member="Coren Starchaser"]
[member="Romi Jade"]
[member="Rick Kaloo"]

 

[Djorn Bline]

Location: Some hangar
Objective: 1 & 4
Allies: [member="Kole Harper"]

Mon Cala, Dac, however one wished to call it was something Djorn had been looking forward to. For too long had Mon Cala undermined the efforts and pursuits of the Sith Empire by aiding the Galactic Alliance and other infidels with their prized warships; they barely engaged the Sith Empire with their own military, but today would be the day that they would have to.

Their actions would be punished in the most severe manner. Everyone would all the way from Dac's Monarch, to the lowest peasant.

They should've thought twice before assisting insurrections against [member="Darth Carnifex"] and his Empire.

Everyone had their assignments, however Djorn would be privileged by the Highest Authority to perform a covert mission to assassinate Mon Cala's King and eliminate the other leaders of Mon Cala. Content and pride washed over his heart, making his final preparations that he been planning over before the grand day of invading Dac.

He put together a four man team under his command. Two were handpicked by him, though the third would be assigned to him by the Saaraishash. A minor disliking to Djorn, but not one he'd whine about. His superiors promised him that this Kole Harper was a capable operative and would serve Djorn well. Harper was a mystery to him, as when he pulled up his records and documents they were blank.

Something that interested the Inquisitor.

The squad all came together at the site Bline instructed them to be at which would be the hangar of one of the many vessels in formation with the Sith-Imperial Fleet. And all four agents would be in special armor for this delicate mission.

 

[Republic Engineering]

Objective One: Coral City - Mon Calamari.
Engaging: [member="Khonsu Amon"]

​

​

Imperials. It made little difference which prefix they adorned, as their mannerisms were all but the same. They deemed that the stars were theirs for the taking and that all would live blissfully under their tyrannical rule. However, in stealing away their future subjects right to self-govern, they trample centuries of culture and art underfoot in the names of order and progress. While those were admirable goals to strive towards, it was the methods in which they've achieved them that my mind, body, and very soul couldn’t abide. There was a better way to reach those lofty ideals, but none held the patience needed to wholly grasp that far-flung concept. Every solution that was devised was built around achieving their goals in the interim, never taking the time to create a stable foundation upon which to build an interstellar nation.

In a moment of reflective hypocrisy, I ended up rushing from one side of the galaxy to the other, when I caught wind of the Sith Empire’s retribution. It was a flicker of youth that took control of my body and drove me towards that water-bound world. I had a purpose again, and for the briefest of moments - I felt like I could take on the entire Empire, single-handedly. Yet, as the course was plotted and my destination looming ever closer, I felt myself wondering if this was the right course of action. What purpose would my life serve, if it was spent in the vain attempt to halt to relentless advance of an unstoppable juggernaut? The answer there was a bit too grim for my tastes and was unworthy of repetition. Instead of dwelling on such a sour thought, I spent the rest of my journey preparing myself for what was to come.

Death was sure to be common amongst those blood-stained waters - and being who I was - I would undoubtedly hear the shrieks of their passing.

I entered the Dac system mere moments after the Sith Empire had established multiple blockades into the system - seeking to stem the flow of incoming reinforcements. While it was an effective tactic, when the grand scheme was brought into the equation, it was admittedly unimaginative. I could say that I was a decent pilot and managed to navigate through the depths of real space to avoid their patrols, but that would be an outright lie. I wouldn’t gain anything from following the threads of untruth. Therefore, I’ll state that I punched through their cordon by equal measures of skill and luck. The latter is a facet my religion believes to be nothing more than the Force speaking to us, and guiding our hands, but at that moment? I felt damn lucky.

My journey to the planet had been a repetition of what transpired before, as I was forced to race through swarms of Starfighters and Capital Ships to reach somewhat friendly skies. I wasn’t proud of how I flew, as the Chronos suffered under my seemingly careless command. Several capacitors were overloaded with ionic energy and needed to be purged. It’s exterior was scored with dozens of plasma burns - weaving yet another tale of my piloting onto the legendary Interceptor. When the landing struts had touched down onto the flight deck of a secured hangar, nestled within the spires of Coral City, my feet instantly took to the city streets.

There was no time to waste with formalities, nor greetings. The Sith Empire was invading, and it was up to those that could fight - to defend this world and its people.

It was there, that I found myself confronted with a gilded echo of the past - who threatened to challenge not only my beliefs - but my skills as a Jedi too. ​

 

[Rakaan Horne]

LOCATION: SOME HANGAR
OBJECTIVES: 1 & 4
ALLIES: [member="Djorn Bline"]

There was nothing on Harper. He had been nothing more than a blank-slate, a mystery and a shadow. Djorn's suspicion and intrigue had certainly been justified, but there was nothing for Kole to say or do that could put such things to rest. He didn't even have answers himself. Kole had been that way through rather unorthodox means that revolved around his recruitment, employment, service. It was all Ven's doing under the guise of 'Vain'. They had always claimed it difficult to trust a Sith, and the more he delved into such territory the more that statement began to make sense.

It was going to take time to become accustomed to such a people.

He fidgeted within his armour- his head rolling around his shoulders as a free hand clasped at the neck armour. It'd been a while since he wore such a thing, that's what those implanted memories of his told him, that is. His hesitant expression was concealed behind that helmet of his. K-001, as his designation made him out to be, stood in a discomforting silence; waiting.

 

[Keira Cerdulan]

Gotta be about to die to live.

Keira lived by that idea completely, and as she zipped her way through the field of battle. Laser Cannons flaring from her Interceptor as two of the defending fighters exploded into flames. A swirling spin came to a stop as she veered left to avoid a corvette that soon exploded into flames and debris...ah, war. Well, it wasn't a war war, nothing big: but these little one-off fights were the only war she knew.

"Mastiffs! Form up, we're going to be moving in with the main line!"

There was no hesitance in her voice this time, she had fallen right into the rank of Lieutenant this time around. They needed a leader...and she was going to supply one.

The formation of fighters flew in with a growing horde of TIEs, the rather random looking patch of different class of ships each given their own distinct little marking to denote them as Mastiff squadron: something that could be a mark of shame worn as the badge of honor for the rowdy and always effective pilots.

"Give em' hell!"

It was a totally unnecessary command but she didn't care, she was grossly energetic to get flying outside of her element: these were actual pilots, proper pilots, the real kind of challenge that put her nigh constantly on edge. Oh this was going to be a real rich fight...

With the enemy looming in front of them and mighty Starfighters of the Empire rode out with the great warships of the Armada at their backs! It was impossible to even consider they could be beaten.

 

[Tubal Sahon]

OBJECTIVE: II- SEIZE MON CALAMARI SHIPYARDS
LOCATION: EN ROUTE IN BOARDING VESSEL
__________________________________________________________________________________________________

Tubal sat in silence as the boarding ship carried on its merry way, gripping tightly to a handle hanging low on the ceiling. It had been a good while since he had made his return to the Sith. Crawling back, prostrated like a dog. Begging for his masters to take him back after his blunders in the Core Sector. No more of that. He needed to get stronger before he would think about something like that again. He doubted that they would give him another chance if he tried to run off into the black void once more claim his own chunk of the galaxy. The thing shook violently as something hit the transport vessel. The compliment of droids shook from their little perches from the ceiling. The living soldier to his left looked like he was going to fall out of his seat had in not been for the several braces all of them were forced into.

The large brute of a man looked directly at him before forcing his eyes back to the door. Tubal had come to love this waiting, this anticipation. It always meant that battle was soon. It meant that he would soon be spilling the blood of his enemies, their screams filling his ear. It was as intoxicating as the finest drinks for him. He couldn't wait. His muscles tensed with every lurch of the ship through the void of space, their increasing tempo letting him know that they were getting closer now. Tubal could already taste the wet iron on his tongue, anticipating...

He could feel the ship slowing down as it approached its prey, just barely, Tubal placed his hand on the release mechanism of whatever was bracing him to the seat. The soldiers around him were doing the same, preparing whatever weapons they had. The combat drones were beginning to warm up, beginning to stretch their arms and legs as their boot sequence came into full effect.

Tubal held on tightly, he knew that the final moment was about to come. He closed his eyes. For a moment, it was as if everything had gone silent, but in the force, Tubal reached out beyond his senses, he could feel everyone in that cramped boarding ship and then even beyond, flickers of life just beyond his reach. He knew they were there, ready for take them on as soon as the doors were open. Excellent~

Tubal wanted to toy with them, but there would be no time left for that, for their ship was fast approaching! With a final, sudden lurch, Tubal knew that they had arrived. The droids were ready to march forth, and the puny organic soldiers were hastily undoing their restraints. Tubal himself calmly disengaged his harness, baring his exposed teeth. He could feel his rotting gums begin to tear, oozing red down his unsightly maw. He began to lick all over his mouth, the taste of blood invigorating the former Tower of Balagoth.

Tension hung in the air as that unholy buzzing of a boarding laser permeated the cabin, but yet it stoked the fire building in Tubal's belly. He stood to his full height, easily towering over foot-soldier and droid alike, the beskar spikes driven into his back likewise fanning out above his own head, making him look all the larger.

"On my mark, men!" He would shout, the voice all the louder in this enclosed space. The buzzing finally ceased, punctuated by the sound of a metal panel hitting a hollow, metal floor. A sudden hiss and the doors of the boarding ship splayed themselves apart, revealing the bright, clean interior of the Mon Calamari shipyards.


"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGH!"

 

[Vilaz Munin]

Location: Heading towards Shipyards
Objective: 2 & 4

The call of Crusade caught Vilaz’s attention. Time before the Sith-Imperial assault on Mon Cala, the Dark Lord of the Sith called upon one of his personal favorite mercenaries to see if this operation interested the Concordian. Talks of loot to plunder and blood to spill, along with compensation from the endless pockets of Carnifex were enough to participate on this battle. Glory and treasure always captured Vilaz. His lust, pride, and greed always got the best of him and they couldn’t be stopped.

Such agents could be his downfall, but the Concordian always prevailed.

Aboard on a grand battlecruiser as his command ship, loaned to him by [member="Darth Carnifex"], the Mandalorian made way for the hangar of the beast. He had no intention of staying here and fight from the bridge. He had his own officer from his Clan, brilliant in naval warfare, to take over that position. Vilaz, instead, would lead a legion that was diverse of Imperial soldiers, Sith Knights, and Mandalorian Warriors of his Clan. They would focus on conquering one sector of the shipyards while other battalions were in charge of their own sector to pry from the enemy.

Arriving at the hangar, the Warlord walked to one of the dropships assembled within the hangar that was full of his own elite unit handpicked by himself. At the signal all dropships and other transports would fly out of the hangar, with fighters escorting them to protect them from any hostile attack. Obviously there would be casualties, but that was expected for the Mandalorian. Just needed to make those sacrifices count and not have them be in vain.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The battle had turned ferocious.

As the first vanguards of each opposite fleet engaged, hundreds died in the ensuing volleys as the fighting moved from long-range bombardment to point-blank broadsides. Fighters maneuvered in spaces so claustrophobic that they were practically scratching each others paint, the enemy pilot visible from their own cockpit. And when one ship was damaged enough to knock out its maneuvering stabilizers, ship-to-ship crashes were all too common as one vessel or another listed out of formation only to smashed in an enemy ship not too far away. The space around the shipyards was congested with these wreckages, some of them still proving to possess teeth as unwavering crewmen continued to operate turbolaser batteries and point-defense guns even as the rest of the ship burned up around them.

Neither side was willing to flinch, and tens of thousands would die before the confrontation came to its end.

But that did not concern the Sith Emperor, his eyes gazing out the cockpit viewport of his personal shuttle as it expertly bypassed most of the carnage. War and death were the tools of the trade for his profession, and the more those under him killed or were killed only strengthened the Dark Side on whatever battlefield they fought on. Each death was another atrocity that heralded the total eclipse of the light in the universe.

The Crestfallen II descended through the clouds, the sprawling above-water metropolis of New Coral City rising out of the ocean to meet them. It was there that the Emperor had faced his most humiliating defeat at the hands of the Jedi during the previous war. The Republic had been making incredible gains Parlemian Trade Route, wrestling Ossus from the Sith's control before mounting an attack on Mon Cala itself to open the way for a direct assault on the Imperial Throneworld. He had come with his legions to ensure that the Jedi failed in their task, but he was overconfident and brash; the sins of a youth that he had not fully escaped at that point.

So when he fought Diana Moridena and the rest of the Jedi Council in the city's urban sprawl, he had been assured in the divine providence of his victory.

It made his defeat at their hands all the more bitter.

But now he was poised to wipe that failure from the annals of history once and for all, and he would start with the monument the Mon Calamari had erected to commemorate the Empire's defeat all of those years ago. His shuttle maneuvered down into a landing zone that had already been cleared by the Imperial Marines, quickly depositing the Emperor and his retinue of Crownguard onto the battlefield before retreating to a more secure position for the rest of the battle.

With the Sith Emperor on the field, the morale of the soldiers fighting in the streets was bolstered by his presence. He charged out of cover, moving across the crossfire like an implacable titan of war, before smashing into the Mon Calamari lines with an explosion of anger so intense it sent dozens of broken bodies flying in all directions.

Emperor Carnifex raised his lightsaber above his head, a rallying gesture for all under his command: "Tear down this worthless city, leave no stone unbroken!"