First Reply Between Marble And Legacies

[Thorus Valerian]

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Colonies Territory | Carida | New Military Academy
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Carida had been a beacon of military education for centuries, Imperial martial might was inscribed into the world's blood. Professional pilots and officers an export good rare and precious like few others. Hence why it was no surprise that after every change of government, the inhabitants returned to their roots, started a new academy, a fresh generation of recruits to fill the shoes of their forefathers. For it was no secret, every generation on Carida eventually found itself back in uniform. Governments changed. Wars did not.

Therefore it was no surprise that it got unwanted attention. Now laying between the borders of the Sith Covenant and the Mandalorian Empire, the planet was far from Alliance or Imperial protection and sovereignty. A situation that was now being exploited.

Before any ragtag defence could be mounted in orbit, several dropships of Sith raiders had dropped to scorch the Academy. Laying waste to several quarters already, it was in the hallways of the Academy that they were finally checked by the students themselves and their guests. A bloody close combat developed, fighting stretched through offices, corridors, teaching halls, on roofs and through supply cellars. Crumbling busts, the smell of fyzelen and overheated plasma coils, cooked blood and sweat filled the hallways of the Academy. The raiders came in with several companies strong of fanatical cultists under several squads of Sith troopers led by a few Sith warriors themselves. Their mission was carnage. To destroy and annihilate. The living and legacy alike.

In the midst of it, was a contingent of the Shattered Legions. Valerian had come here, merely hours before the attack, to strike a bargain with the Academy leadership, but had quickly found himself committed to its defense. Now he was caked in blood and dust, breathing heavily below his crested helmet as he lead a mixture of cadets and his own veterans to break the Sith raiders assault. Everywhere the defenders were hard pressed, while holding plenty of stocks of small arms, they had only limited heavy weapons and even less fully trained troops. They were pushed back, some holdouts died to the last men while securing the evacuation of the youngest. Even Valerian's own call for reinforcements and aid had not been answered yet.

An explosion nearby briefly deafened the senses, a wild scream followed and several Sith cultists emerged from what was a lecture hall, now charging Valerian and his ragtag unit. His blade rose instinctively as red blaster fire strobed across the corridor, his own weapon discharging. There was no time for orders, no room to be tactical. It was simply a brutal melee. Not the first. Neither the last.

 

[Seo Linn]

The academy smelled like burning circuitry and blood, and Seo noticed that before anything else, not the blaster fire hammering somewhere deeper within the structure, nor the concussive tremors shuddering intermittently through the walls as another section of the outer grounds absorbed bombardment. Those sounds blended quickly into the background, becoming part of the atmosphere the way storms eventually became background noise during long campaigns, but the smell remained distinct: overheated plasma coils, melted wiring insulation, cooked stone, scorched fabric, and beneath it all the unmistakable metallic scent of fresh blood spreading across old military flooring that had likely survived more than one regime already.

Carida endured, and that endurance was precisely the problem. Governments collapsed, flags changed, uniforms shifted colors, yet worlds like this remained trapped in the same cycle until war had worked itself so deeply into the foundation that even the architecture seemed to expect violence returning to its halls.

Seo stepped over the shattered remains of a fallen training droid just inside one of the academy's breached side entrances, her boots crunching against broken transparisteel and scattered shell casings as she advanced down a corridor flickering unevenly beneath emergency lighting. Smoke drifted low enough to obscure the ceiling; someone screamed nearby; someone else fell silent; and she did not slow. The compact blaster carbine in her hands stayed only slightly lowered, enough to move quickly without sacrificing readiness, as a pair of cadets rushed past an intersecting hallway carrying a wounded student between them, panic barely contained beneath the discipline drilled into them. One glanced toward her, eyes wide behind soot and sweat, before disappearing toward the evacuation routes, and the thought that they were far too young passed through her mind without ceremony.

Another explosion reverberated through the structure hard enough to shake dust from the overhead supports, the lights dimming for half a second before stabilizing under strained backup power. Voices echoed ahead, shouting, blaster fire, the unmistakable rhythm of close-quarter fighting where range stopped mattering, and survival became measured in reaction speed rather than strategy. Seo's jaw tightened slightly; she had seen enough collapsing strongholds to recognize the pattern already: defenders falling back section by section, makeshift lines forming wherever they could hold long enough to move the wounded, officers trying to impose order faster than the situation deteriorated around them, and somewhere in the middle of it all, people still pretending this was a battle that could be controlled.

A shadow moved suddenly through the smoke ahead, and her weapon snapped upward on instinct as a cultist burst into view at a sprint, wild-eyed and screaming something unintelligible while red plasma fire erupted behind him from deeper in the corridor. Seo fired once without hesitation, the shot catching center mass and dropping him hard enough to slide across the polished floor before coming to rest against the wall in a smear of dark fabric and blood. She paused for neither satisfaction nor assessment, only movement, angling immediately toward the renewed blaster fire crackling down the adjoining hallway as defenders engaged further inside the academy.

Without breaking stride, Seo pushed deeper into the structure while the battle continued tearing through it room by room.

Thorus Valerian

 

[Thorus Valerian]

Seo Linn​

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Colonies Territory | Carida | New Military Academy
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His sword was stuck in the ribcage of the cultist he had impaled seconds before. Now his combat dagger and the blaster, the latter by now emptied reducing it to crude striking weapon, were his weapons as Valerian fought on pure battle instincts. No agility, no big motions, just pushing on with brute force and unrelenting willpower. The Imperials, students and cultists were pressed against each other in the corridor. Tight. Inescapable. Almost squeezing the last bit of air from there as it filled up with sweat, blood and screams.

Valerian felt like time itself had slowed down. A phenomenon that he usually felt in intense fights, something he something he attributed to years of discipline, experience and cadences drilled into him, allowing him to still make conscious decisions. Sometimes at least. Here and now, he just survived. Earlier he had received a blunt hit to his pauldron, making his arm ache with every movement, a slash across the thigh colored his dark robes even darker.

The last cultist fell. His forehead punctured by a blaster shot from the Stromtrooper behind the Praetorian. Breathing.

"Secure the corners, check the room. Tend to your wounds. Swiftly." His voice echoed from below his helmet, exhausted but still confident. He was a commander, the leader of these men and if he would falter or show signs of dispair, they would fall. Too many already had.

Valerian moved to his sword, his aching arm, probably with a broken collarbone, reloading the blaster before he pulled out the longsword with a gnarly sound of the bloated corpse resisting. He did not look at the enemy, his vision was centered on a few cadets that were trying to save one of their own. One look. The boy was not even 20 and would not see that age anymore. They were trying, but he was bleeding out. He stopped moving.

"Tend to the others, say your farewell." Valerian quickly kneeled and took his dogtags, storing them in one of his pouches. He ignored their broken faces, stains of blood now running with tears of anger and desperation.

He gave his forces almost a minute. Then they moved on. They had to. To find and eliminate the enemy command.

 

[Seo Linn]

Seo reached the intersection just as the last cultist dropped, the crack of the fatal shot still lingering through the corridor while smoke rolled low across the floor and the defenders struggled to reclaim even a moment to breathe.

Her gaze moved quickly over the scene. Wounded cadets. Exhausted soldiers. Blood soaking into old academy flooring already blackened by smoke and plasma scoring. And at the center of it all, the armored commander still moving despite the injuries he was clearly carrying.

Seo lowered her carbine slightly as she stepped into the corridor, boots crunching over shattered plastoid and shell casings. One glance toward the dead cadet was enough to tell her there had been nothing anyone here could have done.

Another distant explosion reverberated through the academy hard enough to shake dust loose from the ceiling.

"You look like you have been holding this corridor together by sheer stubbornness," Seo said evenly, her voice calm despite the chaos surrounding them. There was no mockery in the observation. Only recognition.

Her gold eyes flicked briefly toward the branching hallways where the fighting continued room by room before returning to him.

"I came in through one of the breached side entrances," she continued. "The outer sections are deteriorating quickly, but the defenders are still buying people time to evacuate."

A short pause followed as another burst of blaster fire echoed deeper in the structure.

"If there is somewhere you need another rifle," Seo added, adjusting her grip on the carbine, "point me toward it."

Thorus Valerian

 

[Thorus Valerian]

Seo Linn​

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Colonies Territory | Carida | New Military Academy
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Gun barrels were trained on the woman that appeared. Only a nonverbal command from the Praetorian prevented the veteran Stormtroopers from instantly unleashing a barrage into her. Walking in on soldiers after a fight was dangerous business and if she had not had a certain expression and appearance, they would have ended her.

But something told Valerian that she was not the enemy. And mere moments later - she did. Indirect, but still, she spoke as if she was here to aid the burning academy. Maybe his call for aid was heard afterall, even if it was just heard by a lonely adventurer. Another voluntary rifle was better than nothing. He hoped that she would wield it effectively. He had no time to consider if she was trustworthy or not.

"Another rifle in one of my fireteams would be appreciated. We are searching for the enemy commander. I believe if we can take him out, the attack will become manageable or break off entirely." Valerian made no secret of the strain in his voice and yet kept it firm.

"What is your name?"

He did not idle for the chat though. With his sword he gestured down the corridor and the group of veterans and cadets started moving, already showing signs of organic squad dynamics. A silent praise and salute to the Academies' instructors.

 

[Seo Linn]

Seo noticed the rifles trained on her immediately.

The way fingers tightened near triggers. The instinctive repositioning of exhausted soldiers who had already seen too many enemies emerge from smoke-filled corridors. She did not react beyond lowering the muzzle of her own carbine another fraction, calm enough not to mistake caution for hostility.

When the commander stayed their fire, she inclined her head once in acknowledgment.

"Seo Linn," she answered simply. No titles. No affiliations. Just a name.

She fell into step with the moving formation as naturally as if she had always been part of it, keeping slightly off to one side rather than inserting herself into the center of the unit. Around them, the academy groaned under strain, distant detonations rolling intermittently through the structure while emergency lights flickered against smoke-stained walls.

"The cultists near the breach points were pushing hard," Seo said as they moved. "Too hard for random strikes." Her eyes swept each corridor they passed, checking corners, sightlines, and movement. "If they are coordinated, then someone is driving them forward instead of letting them scatter into smaller assaults."

Ahead, another burst of blaster fire crackled through the academy halls.

Seo adjusted her grip on the carbine.

"Then finding their commander makes sense," she said evenly. "Cut the head away before the rest of this place collapses around everyone still inside."

Thorus Valerian

 

[Thorus Valerian]

Seo Linn​

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Colonies Territory | Carida | New Military Academy
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The unit moved, slowly, blaster barrels flashing into every open room, covering till the unit passed. Broken walls, papers, datapads, all sorts of debris were everywhere on the floors, marking the premature end of this institution. Fires burned, some from destroyed equipment, others were of more organic origin, the smell an unsavory combination of eye watering and sweet.

"We have no chance of holding the tide with a conventional defence. If we kill the Sith that lead this assault, they will break. Everything else is to delay and rescue."

His words were highlighted by an explosion several corridors away, something large detonated. Screams followed, some warcries, some the slow and sad end of someone's life. The comms were working only sporadically, so Valerian had little input from his company and their status. Or what the rest of the Academy was doing. And he also had no time anymore to think about it.

The first shot hit the wall next to one of the Stormtroopers. The second found its mark. More shots followed. Another encounter was upon them. Sith Cultists and Troopers came charging and the clash for survival begun once more.

 

[Seo Linn]

The corridor erupted again before the echoes of the last explosion had fully faded.

Red blaster fire slashed through drifting smoke and sparks, forcing the defenders back toward shattered walls and ruined doorframes while the Sith cultists charged forward with the same reckless fanaticism Seo had already seen throughout the academy. Some screamed prayers. Others simply ran through the gunfire as though death itself no longer mattered to them.

Seo dropped behind the remains of an overturned training console alongside one of the stormtroopers just as plasma bolts hammered the corridor around them hard enough to spray molten fragments across the floor.

"Left side!" someone shouted.

The trooper beside her leaned out first and immediately caught a blaster shot across the shoulder plate hard enough to spin him backward into the wall. Seo fired over the edge of the ruined console without hesitation, dropping one cultist mid-charge before shifting aim and forcing another behind cover further down the corridor.

The unit kept moving despite the pressure. Advance. Cover. Return fire. Every meter was bought with blood and discipline.

Another cultist burst from a side classroom, wielding a vibroblade instead of a rifle, screaming as he rushed the nearest cadet. Seo intercepted him before he crossed half the distance, a single shot catching him high in the chest and throwing him sideways through a broken transparisteel divider.

The smell of burned flesh and overheated circuitry thickened further.

Around her, the defenders continued the brutal rhythm of survival while Valerian pushed them steadily onward through the collapsing academy halls. Seo stayed within the formation rather than ahead of it, watching corners, covering openings, firing only when targets presented themselves clearly through the smoke and confusion.

They did not have the numbers to waste ammunition. Or lives.

Another explosion shook the structure somewhere ahead, followed this time by a deeper metallic groan that suggested an entire section of the academy might have just collapsed inward.

Seo's jaw tightened slightly as she rose just enough to fire another controlled burst downrange.

"We are running out of building," she muttered under her breath, more observation than complaint, before moving with the rest of the defenders deeper into the fight.

Thorus Valerian

 

[Thorus Valerian]

Seo Linn​

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Colonies Territory | Carida | New Military Academy
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The defenders pushed forward step by bloody step. The cultists were fanatics but fanatics died like any other man when enough firepower was directed their way. Blaster bolts flashed through the smoke, illuminating shattered walls and broken training displays. One cadet fell with a cry as a shot struck his chestplate, another immediately taking his place in the firing line before the wounded youth had even hit the floor. There was no time to stop, no time to drag him away. The corridor itself had become a battlefield measured in meters and corpses.

Valerian drove his sword into a cultist emerging from a ruined classroom, sending the man collapsing into a wall before finishing him with a point blank shot of his blaster. The blaster in his left hand barked repeatedly until the power pack ran dry once more. Around him the veterans of the Shattered Legions maintained discipline despite the conditions. Covering fire. Movement. Short commands. The cadets copied them instinctively, years of training and drill asserting themselves amidst the chaos.

An explosion tore through a nearby section of the academy. Dust and fragments of duracrete rained from the ceiling. The entire corridor shook violently as a support wall somewhere deeper inside finally surrendered. Through the brief lull that followed came a burst of static over the comm network.

"—Command wing compromised—multiple contacts—fall ba—"

The transmission dissolved into screaming and weapons fire before disappearing entirely. Valerian frowned beneath his helmet. Command wing. The thought lingered only briefly before another volley of blaster fire forced the formation down. Red bolts hammered into the corridor from an intersecting hallway ahead. More cultists. More troopers. Organized. Entrenched.

Too organized.

The Praetorian crawled forward behind an overturned cabinet and risked a glance around the corner. The enemy had established a proper blocking position. Firing lanes. Interlocking fields of fire. Cover placed deliberately. Not the work of crazed marauders acting independently. "The commander is nearby," he growled, reloading his blaster. "Someone is directing them."

A veteran Stormtrooper beside him nodded grimly. "Command wing would make sense."

"It would."

Valerian rose just enough to fire several shots downrange before ducking back as return fire scorched the wall above his head. The academy groaned around them again. Smoke continued to thicken. Somewhere behind them civilians and wounded cadets were still being evacuated through corridors that might not exist another hour from now.

"We are done clearing rooms," he finally decided. "Delay actions only. Bypass resistance where possible. We push for the command wing."

There was no protest. Everyone understood. They lacked the numbers to save the academy. The best they could do now was cut the head from the assault and pray the body died with it.

"Forward!" Valerian ordered.

The defenders surged from cover once more, firing as they advanced into the smoke and ruin, leaving their dead behind and driving deeper towards the heart of the burning academy.