Casus Belli (Tygaran Alliance/Galactic Alliance vs First Order Rebellion of Kaeshana)

[Natasi Fortan]

In Vicinity
[member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Asharad Graush"] | [member="Torian Pierce"] | [member="Rolf Amsel"]

Enemies
[member="Tempest"] | [member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Elpsis Elaris"] | [member="Elliot Locke"]

The grenade didn't explode. That was good news.

The goop that covered Lydia was heavy, but she didn't realize that it was sticky too until she rolled over onto her back in an effort to get up and found herself rather absurdly stuck to the ground. Literally stuck to the ground, as if someone had super-glued her jacket to the rocks beneath her. She wrestled with it but found herself stuck. Somehow, she saw on the heads-up display of her envirosuit that her datapad was still recording video and audio. Astonishing.

"This is Lydia Finn-Camden, still on Kaeshana. As you can see things have taken a turn, here, and I am now stuck to the ground. I accidentally set of some sort of crowd control device -- or so I imagine -- that sprayed some sort of adhesive. These things appear to be some sort of non-lethal foam or adhesive, which sticks to whatever it lands on. In this case -- me -- and the two men fighting." She pointed her camera at [member="Rolf Amsel"] and [member="Elliot Locke"], before tucking the camera back into her pocket and resumed the struggle in getting up. Somehow she had avoided landing in the stuff with her legs; only her jacket was covered in the stuff. It took her an embarrassingly long time to think of just undoing her jacket and climbing out of it. She unworked her belt and hauled herself up, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in her side.

Next she needed to find her blaster or slugthrower.

 

[Ria Misrani]

Symara and Kala charged through the trenches with little resistance, they were seeking to reach some of the downed men. Rushing through however she found herself tripping over corpses and looking up as [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"] seemed to have her way with the First Order. Gritting her teeth she went for her anti-force user grenade, "she's all about fire, best bet if we switch it up." She whispers changing directions, as Major Lavali Sanjeet and one hundred and forty of her best men and women filtered through rushing toward [member="Rexus Wenck"] and the First Order medics, each one preparing their anti-force user grenades. "Target any non-First Order force users and let them have it," Lavali ordered each one stripping off the Firemane patches from their uniforms.

They were not monsters, they would not be the ones to have their hands responsible for this - not while they still could still help those who needed to be helped. [member="Mao"]'s forces along with @Djacen Koyne would see the friendly coloured uniforms of Firemane paramilitary but would not be the ones helped on this day. No, on this day - Lavali made her choice with her company's bolters aiming for the Galactic Alliance forces, all of them working toward the downed men. "Go! We've got you covered," they say to the First Order troops, these force users should've been put down like dogs as far as Lavali was now concerned. Abusing their powers like this, and the Alliance? Siding with them? What happened to the true Jedi Order, who spoke of peace and being peacekeepers - this was not keeping the peace, this was causing destruction. It was one thing to defend yourself, to defend the Galaxy even. This was not either of those things, at least not in Lavali's opinion, an opinion shared by the rest of the Lion's Maw, heavy forces mostly their tanks and artillery were on the road heading south as it was the last known direction the First Order forces were heading toward.

Meanwhile, Symara Tarriq, Kala Matthieus and Charles Halifax led reinforcements toward [member="Rolf Amsel"]'s position.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Location: Space, intercepting [member="Kyrana Gould"]'s fleet
Allies: [member="Fiolette Yvarro"], [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"], [member="Cyrus Tregessar"], [member="Aran Piett"]

Natasi watched the battle unfolding and rubbed her temples. The Alliance seemed to be stalling for time with their diplomatic ploys; the hour-long ultimatum had expired some time ago without any response from [member="Jaius Sovv"]. Meanwhile, reports on the ground were that Allied forces were inexplicably advancing against heavy First Order forces. It was a shame that no diplomatic solution could have been found; the fact that the Alliance was willing to spend lives and resources on a planet that had been abandoned by the callous and vile Firemane cultists until the exact moment the First Order showed interest in humanitarian efforts there suggested to Natasi that a diplomatic solution was not possible -- in Kaeshana or any other theatre of war.

As border disputes escalated, as brushfires erupted between the Alliance and the First Order, Natasi had hoped against all hope that cooler heads could prevail. But either the Galactic Alliance was corrupted by their relationship with these murderous dark-side cultists, or they were complicit in their war crimes. There was no other way of viewing this conflict. It was a struggle between those who wanted to live in peace and go about their business in an orderly society, and those who saw violence as the primary tool in their toolkit. Natasi's hopes for a peaceful solution were crumbling before her eyes, burning to cinders like so much tinder.

"Grand Moff Fortan," the Captain called over the com, pulling her from her reverie. Her jaw set. "Allied fleet approaching. Putting it on your screen now." Natasi examined the display and glanced out the window. What [member="Kyrana Gould"] hadn't seemed to notice was Battlegroup Nebula moving into place in a high orbit -- within range of [member="Anya Venari"] and her Tempest Cannon, but high enough to be outside of truly effective firing range.

"Not on our watch, Captain," Natasi responded. "Alert Battlegroup Nebula and move out. Charge up main guns; shields up at maximum; I'll be returning to the bridge."

She clutched the arms of her chair and inhaled sharply, her nostrils flaring. Under her, the ship's deckplates trembled for a moment as the behemoth Concordia, a powerful Resurgent class, prepared to engage. She turned her chair towards the door and headed for the bridge. When she arrived on the bridge, she saw what she expected: Imperial efficiency at its finest. Natasi had failed to stop war; her dreams were dashed like surf against the stones, but with a bridge crew like this -- and the ones on every other ship in the First Order Navy -- Natasi felt that peace through superior firepower was just a long, bloody war away.

 

[Fiolette Fortan]

Allies: [member="Natasi Fortan"], [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"], [member="Cyrus [/FONT][/SIZE][FONT='lucida sans unicode'][SIZE=14px]Tregessar"], [member="Aran Piett"]
Location: Entering Orbit of Kaeshana

Orders, were orders even if she didn't always agree with them.

"Bolts, Fortans and Daggers out front," Galeway remarked as Task Force 74 rerouted their positions heading for the planet, running parallel with [member="Kyrana Gould"]'s fleet it seemed, at least for a moment. "Admiral! Battlegroup Nebula on interception course!" Those words meant more to Fiolette than the young Lieutenant would ever know, Fiolette with her lips pursed kept her eyes on the map, "Piett and Rausgeber should have their reinforcements soon," she says softly, her eyes momentarily leaving the holomap gazing out toward the battles as they unfolded before her. Some of her ships had already taken some damage from Kyrana, but not enough to deter them, running a scan of enemy vessels as they moved closer toward Kaeshana's orbit gave Fiolette some insight on the ships at present. "And just how old are these ships?" She wondered to herself, but thought no more of it, "turn our batteries, decrease speed to half I want a steady rate of fire."

"Aye Admiral."

The closer Task Force 74 got into Orbit, the closer they came in range of a fullscale battle. "Who is this?" She wondered and put a hand on the map, as enemy fleets cropped up for her. "Intriguing," the redhead whispers with a quirked brow, "status on secondary weapons and warhead launchers?"

"Warhead launchers ready," Galeway reported.

The Warspite steamed behind the bulk of Task Force 74 who in their own battle lines came to reinforce the blockade, [member="Torian Pierce"], "Veers," she pulls on a secure channel herself, "can you explain to me how is it that I am being called in to do your job?" The woman didn't have time for his answers, "do the First Order a favour and fire on these pests. We'll have reinforcements soon enough. Yvarro out."

If it was the one thing you should never do, and that - was to leave your rear open to the enemy.

Fleet: Task Force 74

Spoiler

1x Warspite-class, Dreadnought
4x Fortan-class, Heavy Corvette
2x Inflictor-class, Heavy Cruiser
8x Dagger-class, Escort Frigate
4x Denial-class, Anti-Starfighter Frigate
2x Retribution-class, Star Destroyer
3x Unity-class, Carrier Cruiser
24x Bolt-class, Picket Corvette
Total: 14,430m

En Route: Task Force 71 & Task Force 72
ETA: 1 Posts

Spoiler

Task Force 71: [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"]
Stormcloud-class, Assault Cruisers x2
Raptor-class, Assault Frigates x6
Retribution-class, Light Star Destroyer x1
Corsair-class, Gunship Corvettes x12
6,580m

Task Force 72: [member="Aran Piett"]
Vindicator-class, Light Carrier x2
Fortan-class, Heavy Corvette x6
Charger-class, Escort Corvette x4
Deliverance-class, Corvette x24
6,880m

 

[HK-36]

Character: Adventures of NPC Greycloak "Iron-Borne"
Location: The Slit-Trenches Occupied by Rexus and Twigg
Objective: Cover the GA forces pushing into the Citadel, hold down the position, save Hardock
Allies: [member="Mao"], [member="Djacen Koyne"], [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"]
Enemies: [member="Rexus Wenck"], [member="Aermoira Cyone"]

Attacking Rexus (Only the soldiers attacking the droids, not medics or their trasnsports)- 2 medium Mobile Weapon Platform Spider Droids, 2 armed with RC-1 rotary cannons (One completely disarmed, its rear legs disabled),
1 damaged heavy Spider-Droid Mobile Weapon Platform, equipped with one RC-1 rotary cannons mounted on the left side, one main MD-1 mass driver gun, right side melted and destroyed from previous FO bombardment
1 Greycloak, the Iron-Borne, clad in Protectorate Power Armor, 2x Electro-Cestus and chameleon cloaks, armed with Magnetic Revolvers, heavy Magnetic Repeater, generic blue-crystal lightsabers, and Spear of Rae.


As the FO forces retreated, which seemed to have been so far an overarching theme of the rebellion, jumped over the trench's cover, sprinting to join up with Kerrigan as she moved towards the flash and explosion of the thermal detonator used by Mao on Rexus. Running through the trenches his lightsaber moved almost instinctively, deflecting aside blaster bolts and dodging sonic shots from the remaining FO stormtroopers with expert precision that came easy to a machine equipped with state-of-the-art trackers, scanners, and trajectory calculation protocols.

When they made their entrance and Kerrigan quickly sent out her iconic telekinetic blast to deal with the few remaining stormtroopers in that particular area, the droid landed next to her, his grey mud-stained cloak flapping on the wind wildly, a blue glowing lightsaber in one hand, a magnetic revolver in the other. The droid was there to serve as Kerrigan's body guard, watching over her rear and flanks to prevent an enemy getting drop on them among the chaos.

But first things first, the Greycloak moved over to injured Mao in defensive stance, just to put himself between the battered and charred soldier and the enemy, glancing over to Mao to give her a quick medical scan to be ready and stabilize her condition when the area is going to be cleared. Presumably the Angelii who arrived alongside with Kerrigan from her fight with Kaine and fought alongside another Greycloak-HK copy few minutes ago would not be too far behind, still the machine sent out a quick transmission to Djacen,

"Djacen, we have some wounded on my position, sending you coordinates, if you can direct some soldiers for escort and medics that could be great. Also you can move the field Aspis generator you brought along to the shield generator building within the Citadel, we can reinforce our shields then or protect the building itself."

Come what may, they were ready to keep on fighting while the FO were retreating.

 

[Ria Misrani]

Santaissa Ruins

"Dogs," Amuna remarks, regarding the force using Eldorai who bark for the Alliance. "Keep her alive." She orders her men as they bring a beaten and battered [member="Sioux[/FONT][/SIZE][SIZE=14px][FONT='lucida sans unicode'] Chambers"] with them. The Eldorai and her Warbands used old tunnels, and old roads to get to where they were going. Roads carved out by years of suffering that one need only to see the corpses to know which roads to walk through and which ones to avoid. Old Angelii weapons hung across her shoulder, a sword in particular, a Sarix. This barking dog of the First Order would be slain for all to see including those who bark for this Alliance. No amount of apologies could make up for the years of torment, years of suffering that she had endured. She wanted them all off of her planet and one way or another they would be gone.

The bitter winds of the unnatural storm that brewed outside of this tunnel could be heard. "Bark, bark, bark - to your masters bidding, for you have lost your faith and Ashira is not pleased." Amuna whispers as she looks back toward her men with a smile, "open the door." Another order as they open up a door to an old communications tower not unlike any other tower, but this one was a little out of the way. Life would be brought back to it soon enough, Amuna and her men continued their way - working to secure the First Order's pet to seat while they cranked up the old station.

 

[Zef Halo]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RbmS3tQJ7Os​

It all happened way too fast for Jude to react properly. His last ditched effort of using the wrist datapad may have given him some time to fire one shot in close proximity at the droid but what happened next was the immense pain from his kneecap snapping. It immediately tore down his concentration from the Force and made him drop down his hand fiercely into the snowy ground. A scream of pain came out literally from his whole gut. This was probably one of the most painful experiences Jude had ever been through.

The agent would not be able to witness if his shot had made it at all or what the results were. Hell, he didn't even have the time to accept the fact that he was just about to lose conscious. Nor did he have time to be shocked at the mysterious ethereal (or scientific in this case) powers that came in works to tear his wrist datapad from his arm and that twisted his knee like an invisible hand. With one final glance at the large figure of the droid, Jude's world turned to black as he lost consciousness.

Somewhere in the distance, a couple of stormtroopers still searched aimlessly for the mysterious threat, another was dozing off half dead next to the repeater and another was living the dream in his head.

[member="HK-36"]​

(ggwp, no re D: )​

 

[HK-36]

Character: HK-36-1
Location: Ruins of Santaissa
Objective: Duel Jude
Allies: All by himself, outside of his copy waiting in a stealth transport,
Enemies: [member="Jude Falkrowe"]
Equipment: Phrik Droid Body, Anti-Force Vong Biot Suit, 2x Electro-Cestus, Spear of Rae, Electro-Flail, HK's Training Lightsaber (Sliver of Light), 2x Magnetic Revolvers (Heavy), Magnetic Repeater (Heavy), Chameleon Cloak, Sigil of Hope, D.U.S.T., Anti-Force User Grenades, Grappling Hook (Pistol Format), Photoreceptor HypnoGaze attachment, jetpack, simple wrappings for camouflage and concealment.
Forces: The Knight Of The Eclipse (Dark Harvester Prize Stealth Transport) with a collection of shattergun-miniguns, bowcasters, and blast-staves on board


Jude dropped his hand from the pain and snow in front of HK exploded out from the bolt hitting it, causing the machine to recoil in case more attacks came but it was clear that the fight was over as the pain overtook Jude and he was quickly spiraling into unconsciousness.

"You fought well."

HK would spoke out to Jude, before he would black out he could see the machine stepping closer to him, his lightsaber flicking quickly and the blade slicing its way through the air towards Jude's face. The machine made promise that Jude would keep his life and he will uphold it, for in his final moment of consciousness Jude may have learned another truth about the droid and his tricks, the lightsaber he was using all along was a training saber, it deflected but it did not cut or burn through the flesh like a normal combat lightsaber did.

Instead, Jude may have felt a strange sensation of tranquility and hope battering him as the training lightsaber was swung to slam him in the face and knock him out, putting him on an quick course towards that blissful state where pain would not reach him.

If all of that would succeed and Jude was out the droid would deactivate his lightsaber and lean down to grab the man's charric pistol, looking over it before holstering the weapon on his belt, along with the remains of Jude's wrist datapad and any other weapons he could have. HK would then grab Jude's unconscious body, if he was unconscious by then and hoist him up over the metal shoulder like a sack of yesterday's potatoes.

The droid would send out a transmission to his stealth transport then,

"Mission successful, I have a prisoner, pickup on my location, be wary, stormtroopers in the area."

"Aye-aye."

Hopefully Jude's stormtroopers would not notice the stealth transport coming in through the blizzard as sneakily as it could to pick up and Jude and bring HK to a different area of battle so that he could put his skills to work somewhere else. If they did not then that should have been that, there would have been no reason for HK to keep hunting them and just let them wander meaninglessly through the ruins of Santaissa on their own until the GA would find them. Or he would probably at least send out a transmission to them to let them know Jude was gone so that they could gather their wounded and get out of there.

 

[Kenth Typho]

Location: Dawn
Objective: [Kill]
Allies: None

Enemies: [member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="Lydia Finn-Camden"]
--

His visor was rammed into Rolf's chest plate, once, twice.

Archie could feel his grip weakening. This only served to piss him off more, his kill was wringing itself from his hands and there did not seem to be anything to do about it, as his vision was darkening by the moment.

Feth.

There wasn't anything to do, but release his grip entirely and push Rofl's arms away. He was still on top though and that crap goo or whatever was everywhere, making it difficult to move, much less run away. Locke would have done this differently, but all Archie cared about was his kill. An armored fist would fill Amsel's vision as the SIS agent started punching him.

Face, throat, whatever came in proximity.

Burning pain on his back where the durasteel block had cut through the weaker portions of his armor. Blood didn't come out, because of the goo filling up the spaces, but Archie's rage would only keep him going for so long.

This needed to end and end fast.

 

[Samka Derith]

Location: Northern Trench, Citadel of Dawn
Allies: The First Order - [member="BE-183"]
Enemies: The Galactic Alliance - [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] & [member="Dish"]

He was pained and she had the momentum. Was this it? Was she going to win? The feeling of anticipation was strong. She just had to exploit the opening she'd created...

There was a sudden strain on her mind. Less like it was being invaded and more like it had suddenly been shoved. Despite her credentials in that area, Sam's mind had already been afflicted once today, it had already been exposed, weakened, and with her attention mainly focused on the clash of lightsabers, Jacen's mental counter attack caught the young girl off guard. Her senses went dark leaving her with nothing but the physical world, it was sudden disorientating change which broke her flow of rhythm. She had refocus on repelling the mental assault to recover as Jacen's shield swung round to strike her. She made a dodge at the last moment, her speed and reflexes were naturally good and maybe if she'd not been recovering, the girl could have completely avoided the strike but she did not. The brunt of the attack was avoided the the edged of the shield glanced her back as Samka attempted to twirl away. She yelped and staggered away from her opponent, briefly catching herself on all fours to avoid falling over completely.

Now she glared at Jacen, dusting herself off. Now she'd been hurt there was bubbling anger, anger evolving into hatred. With each moment, the Ren further fuelled by the Dark Side of the Force. Her first move was an ability she was very proficient in, having had training, on the job practice and the knowledge of a specialist Sith Holocron on her side, Samka thrusted out her left hand and unleashed a Force Drain at the Jedi. An attack which would hopefully weaken him and recover some of her injuries. How effective it would be, the girl wasn't sure, it depended on the man's armour and willpower but that was just to soften him up.

With a primal scream, she closed the gap once more, leaping through the air assisted by a burst of Force Speed and bringing her blade down to clash with Jacen's. Samka was far from the physically strongest fighter but with the momentum of Speed, the blow was ferocious. She had a new strategy, continue to strike Jacen's Saber with overwhelming power. She'd heard his grunting, she'd felt his pain in the Force, as her previous Lightning bolts struck the Jedi's shoulder. That was his weak point and now she was working on over straining the shoulder by battering his lightsaber up and down, left to right, over and over again. Every so often, the teenage Ren would jump backwards for distance and once again dash back into the duel to use momentum as her ally.

Gone was the smug, self-described elegant little girl. Now the Jedi was facing something more akin to a feral beast.

 

[Pharazon Draken]

[SIZE=11pt]Post #: 20[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Location: Southern Hemisphere Humanitarian Camp[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Objective: Medical Treatment, Fortification[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Allies: First Order and Friends, Relevant: [member="Aermoira Cyone"] | [member="FN-888"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Enemies: Galactic Alliance and Friends, none directly involved.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Forces: 26 Stormtroopers (27 incl Pharazon). [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Equipment: Standard Stormtrooper Equipment.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Perimeter of Camp, Within a Trench[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Cain and the rest of the on duty stormtrooper’s of 4th Platoon spared a glance and a thought for the civilians who were now beginning their slow exodus to the more established Fenrik base. Cain could only console himself that they were now serving for these people, to keep them safe and ensure that each and everyone of them would someday have the same opportunities and protections afforded to denizens of [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]civilized[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] worlds. Casting one last sorrowful glance at one of the civilian loaded transports Cain returned to digging as did the rest of the stormtroopers, all they could do now was defend this camp and the civilians and other military personnel within it should it fall prey to attack. [/SIZE]I will not fail these people, their days of abandonment and suffering will end this day even if I must give my life to ensure it Cain thought, anger simmering darkly within his mind. They dug on for a while after that before Cain was addressed rather unexpectedly by his temporary commanding officer, Lieutenant Lunor.

[SIZE=11pt]Cain suspected he and his men had been conspicuously quiet, so was only surprised to an extent that the Lieutenant wanted to know why. Even so, he appreciated that she was taking the time to talk to him even though he did not really want to talk about what he knew she was asking about and needed to know. Planting his shovel in the ground above the deeping trench, Cain turned to face the Lieutenant and removed his helmet to run his right hand through his sweat covered hair.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“It is nothing that is impairing my ability to carry out orders or operate to the best of my abilities ma’am…” Cain began, before pausing and taking a breath in and then expelling a beleaguered sigh.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“But you are right, something is bothering me” Cain continued, voice growing weary and sighing again, knowing she would not let him avoid talking about this.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“I was not with the bulk of the platoon for the majority of its time in the ruins, I was ordered off to protect and subsequently evacuate engineers that had been working to restore the city” Cain began, taking great lengths to keep himself as steady and calm as possible.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“When we were ordered back by Lieutenant Draken, we barely got his message given how distorted the local comms were, I barely got his data packet instructing me to come in from the south to encircle and destroy the guerrillas” Cain continued, voice starting to become distant and even though he was looking at the Lieutenant, his eyes began to take on a glassy look.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“When we came through the ruins up from the south…” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Cain said, faltering.[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] “The Lieutenant and our boys were fighting ankle deep in mud and blood, bodies, limbs, and organs were strewn throughout the intersection, men were being drowned in their own blood and the mud” he continued, the beginnings of tears forming in his eyes.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“We could see that they had been pushed into direct hand to hand combat out in the open, bodies littered the ruins, there were mortar craters across the road, dozens of discarded blaster packs, detonator craters and carbon scoring on everything, a building had recently collapsed that they had at one point been in” voice steadying slightly as Cain battled to maintain his composure in front of his men and a superior officer.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“We butchered every last one of those scum but one when we entered the intersection” Cain spat, growing angry and venomous while maintaining his obvious grief, composure slipping once again. “But I couldn’t fething save them, I don’t know how much you know about our unit but most of our lads are not from First Order space, we came to it together, these are men I have known for years, I practically raised some of them, and I couldn’t fething save them” Cain said, silent tears beginning to flow from his bloodshot eyes. He was only happy most of his men were still digging, at least making a show of being inconspicuous.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“I am the chief NCO, and I wasn’t there for Phara… Lieutenant Draken when he needed me, I followed his orders but I should have been there, fighting by his side” Cain quickly corrected himself in front of this officer, not wanting to expose completely his close friendship with the man who should be his rather detached commander.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“We left twenty good men in those ruins, but the Lieutenant never gave up on the rest of us, he refused to be beaten, he devised a fething plan to wipe out those who were poised to completely overrun his position and it bloody worked, he drove himself to near death getting us out of those fething ruins, all I can think of is if I had been faster, driven my men harder through the ruins, I could have got there sooner...” Cain trailed off, emotion overcoming his voice.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Composing himself, Cain continued, “But I will not fail him, so do not worry about my state of mind or my capabilities, I will not fail you, I swear it on the blood of all those who died today that I will not allow their sacrifices to be rendered irrelevant simply because I cannot compose myself” he then placed his helmet back onto his head and saluted.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Surgery Tent[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Medical Officer Henry Dagon finished the final closing procedures on Pharazon’s massive body. He had operated on him for quite some time now and had been forced to open his body up in several areas in order to properly address his multiple life threatening internal injuries. The other medical staff such as the white cloaks and nurses had expertly or at least proficiently and devotedly addressed his external injuries, applying what little bacta, bandages, and gauze available. The right side of his head was nearly completely covered by a bacta pad to address the ghastly gash flowing from below right eye down nearly his entire cheek. His left hand was treated and covered in bandages as were all of his other external lacerations or other injuries. His right arm had needed surgery to begin the reconstruction of it but Dagon knew it would need more soon if he was not able to be properly submersed in a bacta tank soon. Finishing, Dagon removed his gloves and other protective clothing he had, gave some final instructions to the other staffers for monitoring and walked outside. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Walking away from the treatment area of the camp Dagon found a quiet place where he could lean against a wall or at least a more sturdy tent flap, and slid down so as to sit in a slightly squat like manner. Ringing his hands through his hair Dagon began to weep silently, he then covered his face with both his hands as his grief consumed him. He had done all he could for Pharazon, tried every desperate procedure he could think of and every experimental technique he could invent on the fly to counter Pharazon’s impending death with his limited equipment. He had done everything, and he did not know if it would be enough. Pharazon could live or die based on how his body reacted within the next few minutes. Dagon had never wanted to join the military, but it was the price for his family's safety within its borders, he missed his son, he missed his new baby girl and his wife. He missed his entire rather large family, Dagon had always cared more than he should. It was why he went to medical school in the first place after watching his mother and father waste away and die before his eyes, powerless to do anything and too poor and isolated to get them better treatment at a more civilized facility or planet. After his youngest brother died in surgery because there were no qualified surgeons available. He had become his families steward as the eldest of ten children, he had dragged his way out of the figurative and literal dirt to get into a prestigious medical school. He cared then about his blood family and so he cared now for his iron family. So he wept, silently and away from prying eyes for all those he could not save then and now.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Beyond Pharazon’s Mind’s Eye Once More[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Pharazon’s quasi-awareness continued, his being wreathed and consumed by the abyss of base emotions. Feelings cascaded across his ephemeral existence in great coursing waves of competing and conflicting emotions and desires. Pharazon’s awareness then began to coalesce these into the form of his body, a great and all consuming effigy coursing with what appeared to be eldritch flames and unrestrained rage, fear, and ambition. He could feel the entirety of the faux body pulse in a great and indescribable rhythm that he could not discern but knew was there. Voices shattered the silence of this oblivion. The wails of his mother and sisters, [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]indiscernible[/SIZE] [SIZE=14.6667px]roaring[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] from what his being knew to be his uncle. Pharazon’s awareness grew and grew until his being became that of the coursing effigy he had discerned. His being’s pulsing grew inexorably faster and faster, the emotions grew to such levels of intensity until the instant before this entire strange realm of awareness threatened to consume itself. In that instant it was shattered by a voice clear and familiar, his beloved sister Elenthyia. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Live, Pharazon” it said simply, booming but warm. The awareness shattered and ended.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Pharazon’s eyes snapped open, and his vitals surged toward a point where he might survive post-op.[/SIZE]

 

[Progflaw99]

​

--- --- ---​

In Vicinity:​

[member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Asharad Graush"]​

[member="Torian Pierce"] | [member="Lydia Finn-Camden"]​

[member="[/FONT][/SIZE][FONT='lucida sans unicode']Symara Tarriq"]​

​

Objective: Repel the Unknown Assailant ([member="Elliot Locke"]), Displace just South of the Citadel​

​

Enemies: Those Resisting the First Order​

[member="Tempest"] | [member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Elpsis Elaris"]​

[member="Elliot Locke"] | @GA/Firemane Troops​

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​

Spots began to appear at the fringes of the Major's vision, his arm fatiguing rapidly, he could only hold on for so long. Distantly, he hoped it would be long enough, and that's when he felt the man's grip begin to loose. A cough building in the back of his throat he felt the man pull up, pushing him away. The enemy soldier still had the advantage, though it was quickly starting to even out as the fight progressed - there was no doubt in Rolf's mind however that the situation he found himself in was yet a precarious one. Suddenly finding his hands free he fumbled, a fevered thought occurring to the Major: His slug thrower. Covered mostly in goo, the holster had allowed for the sidearm to remain unhindered by the adhesive from the glop grenade. His hands found suddenly free..

*WHACK*​

​

*Feth that hurt.* Blood sprayed once more as the SIS agent's fist found purchase into Rolf's right cheek sending pain shooting through the entire right hemisphere of his skull. He felt the textured grip of the KD-30 against the palm of his glove. Wrapping his fingers around the weapon he began to slide it up, tearing it free of the holster and rotating the short barrel of the weapon up towards his opponent's torso. It was a gamble, a dangerous game considering the slugs were filled with acid but if he could somehow tip the balance in his favor, somehow manage to...

*WHACKKT*​

​

Another blow, this time catching him just to the side of his right eye. Pain consumed him, the trooper's head bouncing against the hard ground as the force of the other man's strike caused his vision to flutter. He couldn't afford to take another hit like that, not if he wanted to make it out of this alive. Time was running perilously short, the majority of his troops already pulled back to one of the farthest of the trenches. Rolf could hear the explosions of their grenades but from the culvert where he'd been jumped he could see little. Almost absentmindedly he squeezed the trigger of the KD-30, the loud report not registering in his ears and so he fired again, and once more before the weapon became covered in the adhesive, preventing any further movement with his weapon. With a disgusted resignation... No. No he would not quit - and as the will to live burned ever hotter within his chest, his eyes snapped open, the blood wiped away hastily as he realized a deadly truth - it wasn't just the will to live that was burning - one of his rounds must have found purchase or at the very least ricocheted off of his opponents armor, just enough to crack the hollow slug, acid spreading eating both adhesive and armor without prejudice. *Feeeeth*.

Frantically he pushed off with his legs, attempting to buck the man from his perch and scramble backwards as the acid from the slug spread, a hissing smoke rising from the adhesive as it burned, an acrid aroma filling the small pit they had been fighting in. Scrambling backwards he looked down to his chest, he fought to breath as he recovered from the firm grip that had so mercilessly been constricting his windpipe. He fumbled around behind him as he crawled backwards, grasping at straws, anything that would give him the upper hand, and that's when he found what had once been Lydia's weapon. Blood obscuring his vision, breaths deep and ragged he raised the barrel of the weapon towards where the enemy soldier should have been. In a low growl, more akin to a snarl he yelled.

"Walk away. Just walk away!"​

​

He would offer the man one chance to exit the battlefield with his life, the Major's finger playing a dangerous game of balance on the trigger of the weapon.​

​

--- --- ---​

​

Again Rolf's troops leap frogged their way further from the central engagement zone, cover from the fighters above and the protective wall of glop and cryoban grenades allowing them to withdraw - with losses. Even though their tactics were solid, they were harassed and pestered by the enemy forces as they withdrew to link up with the larger elements on the ground, the White Wolves currently led by [member="Ludolf Vaas"] and [member="Asharad Graush"]. They pulled back again and again, all the while moving to their west - soon they would have the support they needed in the form of a unified front - the ruin of the citadel a small concession to make to assure their presence on the planet.

Using their sonic blasters and focusing their fire on the force users assaulting them as they pulled back, they would form an overwhelming wall of sonic waves. They pushed back at the force users assaulting their position by attempting to pin them down with overwhelming fire from their sonic blasters and a hail of glop grenades towards them - if they could get them stuck to the ground they would be perfect targets for their more deadly ordinance.

Spoiler

1 x FO-01 Stormtrooper Armor

1 x KD-30 "Dissuader" Slugthrower (Rolf's is now Missing, but now wields Lydia's)
1 x F-11 D Blaster Rifle (Rolf's is now Missing)
1 x SWE/2 Sonic Rifle (Rolf's is now Missing)

3 x CryoBan Grenade
2 x G-20 Glop Grenades
2 x Thermal Detonators
2 x Electromagnetic Pulse Grenade
1 trooper in each squad carries a PLX-1 Portable Missile Launcher instead of Blaster and Sonic Rifles, leaving them with a KD-30 and their launcher.

Troop Complement: 1 Company, 82/200 First Imperial Shock Troopers (See Loadout Above)

OOC: As always, if I missed something or failed to respond to something - please feel free to PM me!

 

[HK-36]

Character: Adventures of NPC Greycloak "Iron-Hide"
Location: Battle for the Citadel of the Dawn,
Objective: NPC Fight, survive the chaos, help Joza
Allies: [member="Joza Perl"],
Enemies: [member="Asharad Graush"],
Forces: 1 Greycloak, clad in Protectorate Power Armor, 2x Electro-Cestus, armed with Magnetic Revolvers, heavy Magnetic Repeater, generic blue-crystal lightsabers, and Spear of Rae.


The machine watched Asharad make his escape on the transport, the droid could swear he landed a shot or two in but there was no way for him to continue the hunt and profit on it. With a roll of the revolver around his finger the droid put his magnetic revolver back into its holster, pulling on its hammer to reload it while he was on it.

"They really got the whole running away thing down to an art, do they not?"

HK quipped to Joza before looking to her and then towards Dish and Jacen fighting Sammie and BE nearby, the droid shrugged,

"Well they can probably handle it but if we would move in there we can take on any stormtroopers there are in the area, weaken their defenses for our soldiers to move in, maybe force them into another retreat. It seems they are running out of troops now, many of their positions fell to our forces and we control the two Citadels."

The machine looked back to Joza,

"Or we can go find a medic and get your bones set back so you could continue fighting, up to you."

Healing Joza's wounds probably would not be so easy, after all she was no droid, they could not just exchange her parts like they would with HK.

"We could also go to the northern Citadel Trenches and help out the troopers there, we have much bigger presence over there already however."

 

[Ludolf Vaas]

Citadel of Dawn, Northwest

[member="Draco Vereen"] and @Taryc Alp'Irae had not found Supreme Commander Vaas yet, because he had not found himself.

The man known as Ludolf was still buried somewhere behind the consciousness of Cipher Eighteen. The Cipher Agent had long laid dormant in his mind, waiting to exercise itself at just the right moment. Now it was fully in control - and it never felt better.

He could finally kill again, and to feel the thrill of death as it coursed from his ministrations into the bodies of his victims was like a long exhale after years of stasis. Cipher Eighteen wondered why he had ever left in the first place. He could have taken over at any time if he truly wanted to - right? From his hidden place within the rocks, he sprung out and latched himself onto an advancing Alliance trooper. From behind, his hand came underneath his opponent's arm and wrapped around the face of their helmet, while his knife hand plunged itself between gaps in armor, finding flesh. He instantly pulled his quarry back into his hiding place with him. Perhaps others had seen, perhaps not. All Cipher Eighteen wanted to do was make sure his latest victim saw him. He ripped off the soldier's helmet, ensuring that the last she saw staring back at her were the cold, pitiless orbs of Cipher Eighteen. His hand rested over her mouth, muffling her final gasps. It was all over in a matter of seconds. Cipher Eighteen considered this a merciful death.

The soldier's blood was on his blade hand. He perked up, sheathing his blade, and wiped it across his cheek. Now the blood remained there. He could smell it in his nostrils as he crouched between the rocks, and its warmth lingered on his cheek. Cipher Eighteen wanted more. He would die here today, he told himself - he would achieve the greatest of deaths for the Sith Emperor. Glory would be his, against all the chidings of his recruiters years ago, against the mockery of his superior officers during training. He was a warrior, no more, no less. He was a warrior and a father. Warrior, father, husband...

No... he was only a warrior!

Critical reasoning error detected. Reboot commencing...

Cipher Eighteen winced, dropped his knife, and fell to a knee. His vision went black, and yet he still fought to maintain control. He raised his knife hand up, desperately trying to move it, desperately seeking his next kill that wasn't there. Then the vibroknife fell to the ground, and he dropped to all fours. When his vision returned again after a few moments, he only saw his own gloved hands below, clutching the brown earth as if hanging onto Kaeshana for dear life. He blinked as his spine gave a painful twitch, and he stood up again as Supreme Commander Vaas. He had the wherewithal to know where he was, but as he turned around to see the enemy soldier he didn't remember killing, Vaas knew instantly that the consequences for this day would be greater than imagined.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Objective: Snake meet Power Axe
Engaging: [member="Ludolf Vaas"]
Allies: [member="Taryc Ap'Irae"]
Gear: Sig

​

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UhE42Noj1Lw​

​

Bodies. A decent trail of them. Footsteps in the mud, fresh. Blood beneath them, pressed into the mud by the foot falls. The older ones had little pools of water and blood. There was only one being causing all this carnage. The Head of the Snake.

Draco would show that snake carnage and suffering. The warlord patted his compatriots leg and gestured with his axe pointing the way for her to follow through the path with the occasional strewn body along it. A huntsman at heart, Draco wore the trophies he had claimed on his person. Wampa, rancor, catra'diamtr. Maalraas. That was the important one when it came to tracking because the creature was capable of cloaking itself and covering its tracks very well and yet, when he had sought one, Draco had been able to find it.

The key to hunting wasn't to be able to think like a prey animal. Only prey thought like a prey animal. It was to be able to anticipate and predict how a frightened, hungry creature would act in the heat of things. That didn't require the predator to lower himself to the basest instincts of prey. And lo and behold, after a long time of tracking and searching, there it was.

Draco allowed Taryc to let her own combat instincts guide her for this small scale engagement. The Witch wouldn't still be a live if she wasn't at least capable. The Warlord however, decided to open by grabbing the man's attention the best way the brutish man knew how. By throwing something big and heavy at him. Draco selected a large stone, probably about thirty kilograms in weight and hurled it towards the Supreme Commander with a little burst of power from the Force to charge his muscles with strength beyond that of a normal man as he made his way towards the lone man.

 

[Eisenweber]

FN-888 "Helden"
Kaeshana Southern Hemisphere, Humanitarian Camp.

Joan gives the respectful dip of the helmeted head. "Your Lieutenant sounds like quite the dedicated Stormtrooper, the First Order is fortunate to have all of you." Joan offers Cain and his men a flattering compliment. As flattering as she could provide without any rapport with the Sergeant. Joan thrusts the shovel strongly down into the Earth, she recoils back and clasps at breastplate with the left hand. Its fingers curl clutching at something beneath; A mild blaster wound that is being exacerbated by the manual labour. "Argh!" Joan's throat makes the guttural growl, landing on her buttocks with a slight whimper, an overwhelming burning sensation sizzles through her skin. Joan attempts to suppress this outward weakness and manages to heave forward standing in the slit trench and looks over to Sergeant Cain with the empathy on her face concealed beneath helmet's visage. "My men are too suffered, that your Lieutenant Draken personally bore the brunt of yours? It is the mark of an exemplary officer." Joan pauses and throws a look over the shoulder to her Troops. And simply watches them for a moment, thankful that each and every one of them stood to be alive now. Joan would selfishly not part with a single one of them and would relent to follow even a direct order if it would mean surrendering the lives of even one of these Stormtroopers. Whom she has known since she was but an ignorant child. Atmospheric Assault Landers flanking a few gargantuan AT-AT Barges go to land behind Cain and Joan at the rear gate of this Humanitarian camp. Stormtroopers calmly walk down their Assault Lander ramps and escort the supplies being unloaded by Sailors from the AT-AT Barges into the camp. The sight of civilians flocking to the First Order sailors carrying rations, water and other necessities only served to steel Joan's resolve, her sense of self-righteousness and earnest belief in the First Order's moral sovereignty over the Galactic Alliance and everybody else.

[member="Pharazon Draken"]

 

[Anya Venari]

[member="Naamah Aesham"]
Citadel of Dusk

“In my experience, Naamah, not only does no plan survive first contact with the enemy, but no good intentions survive contact with reality. We shall see just what happens.”

She glanced at the lightsabre as they crossed the landing field. “I’m grateful you are helping us. I know little about you, but I glad that so many from different causes and paths are assisting.”

There were some Eldorai children there. Their bright eyes shone out from grimy faces. They looked even thinner than normal.
But help was coming. Food was being unloaded, new clothes, even some toys. Selene helped with the distribution, handing one My Little Ropo plushie to a young (that is ten years old) girl.
The girl looked up her solemnly and took Prism Wobble from her.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”

Selene sighed as the girl wandered off. “It all rests in the hands of our comrades in Santaissa now,” she mused.

 

[Naamah Aesham]

[member="Anya Venari"]
Citadel of Dusk, western hemisphere of Kaeshana


"'The road to hell is paved with good intentions'," Naamah quoted blandly. Her cynicism seemed deeply ingrained and as thick as an icy glacier. Probably not a surprise given her own background. She looked awkward when Selene expressed her appreciation of her assistance. "Yeah, I'm glad, too. Stop thanking me. I didn't do much."


Her eyes fell upon the Eldorai children. The pair had soon attracted quite a crowd. Some kids were thin as a rail. Their eyes were bright, but their faces grim, telling tales of woe, suffering and hardship. But help was on the way: Food, clothes, toys and so on. Local Forsaken militia and Eldorai soldiers guarded the refugee camp.


Naamah felt uncomfortable, but ended up joining the distribution. "Here, for you," she said in a predictably awkward tone, handing a plushie to a young Eldorai boy.


"Thank you," he glanced curiously at her lightsabre, which rested on her belt and was obviously unignited. "You're not an Angelii. Are you a Jedi, a Fire Sister?"


"No, I'm...," a reformed psychopath who grew a conscience after going through shock therapy in hell and shoots bad guys when she's not brooding about her sins? That was obviously not the thing to say, "just an aid worker."


The kid looked sceptical, then there was a flicker of recognition on his face. "I remember you. You were at Ashira's Hope. You fought the devil machines! You...you called the ship that saved us."


"Yeah. Well, I had help. Glad you made it, kid. Carry on," Naamah stammered in an even more awkward tone and stalked away, after handing over a sandwich. There was more work to be done. At least no one had hugged her!

 

[H3xle]

LOCTION: Citadel of Dawn
ALLIES: [member="draco vereen"]
ENEMIES: [member="ludolf vaas"]

Taryc followed Draco's lead. She wasn't a hunter by trade or training, but rather a warrior and inquisitor. Looking at the trophies Draco had hung about him, a small part of her mind desired to train so, if only to prove to herself that she could be more like her companion. She didn't hide the truth from herself, Draco was likely the closest thing to a friend she had. She could bum around with troops, even take them to bed if she so desired, but no one aside from Draco had been beside her in battle like this since her days with Primeval. Every day she felt the pull of the darkness, the pull back to the easier life of leaving a trail of bodies everyewhere. When fighting with friends like Draco at her side, however, the bodies tended to remain on the battlefield alone.

Draco went for a straight forward attack at the lone man who was now rising from his knees, taking a large stone and hurling it at the man. Taryc, on the other hand, still saving her energy for the fight, sprinted past Draco. The stone flew past her on the right, mirroring her trajectory as she charged at Ludolf.

Timing was one of the most important concepts in a battle, be it a duel or a massive battle. It was important in her duties as an inquisitor, for knowing the precise time to wait in an interogation before pushing harder, and when to ease up made all the difference. So, after years of training and battles, timing was something that was apart of Taryc as the darkness in her past and her hope to redeem herself in the future.

With that timing, she drew her blade around from where it had been behind her, pushing her hips forward and around, and placing her weight and momentum behind the blade. As she concentrated, the blades flames sprang to life, giving it the properties of a lightsaber, but with a lot more heft. She aimed a simple slash with the blade at the Supreme Commander's midsection, aiming to come in just behind the rock and cut him in two if at all possible. Then, her sword would loop around into a defensive posture, always ready for a counter attack or another person joining the melee.

Actions:
1) Charged Ludolf behind the rock thrown by Draco
2) Slashed at Ludolf with flaming sword (treat as a heavier lightsaber)

 

[Pharazon Draken]

[SIZE=11pt]Post #: 21 (final)[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Location: Southern Hemisphere Humanitarian Camp[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Objective: Medical Treatment, Fortification, Living On (Finale)[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Allies: First Order and Friends, Relevant: [member="Aermoira Cyone"] | [member="FN-888"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Enemies: Galactic Alliance and Friends, none directly involved.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Forces: 26 Stormtroopers (27 incl Pharazon). [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Equipment: Standard Stormtrooper Equipment.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]As the supplies began to proliferate through the camp to First Order military personnel and soldiers alike a new air began to descend upon the camp. Civilians could feed their families more than the rationed scraps they had been making do with and received other essentials. Imperial soldiers were handed rations and water by fresh and pale naval personnel as they disembarked and entered the camp. The wounded remained wounded, but with the freshly delivered medical supplies this camp was finally becoming able to properly treat the horrific assortment of combat injuries and trauma as well as illnesses and other conditions presented to the previously overwhelmed camp staff by stormtroopers, soldiers, and civilians alike. Tears and blood were still flowing in the camp, the wounded and dying still moaned and screamed, but hope had seeded the hearts of the camp occupants, and hope would see them through the horror of surviving their injuries or illnesses.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]As Cain and Joan stood in the trenches and the naval personnel and other arriving Imperials, Cain tried to use the sight to prove to himself what they had done on this planet was worthwhile, even if they could only help these people in the camp. It was something. As he listened to the Lieutenant’s compliment Cain managed a slight smile within his helmet, if, even after all of this people could still show compassion and compliment people they did not know there was hope for the galaxy yet.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Thank you Lieutenant, he is a good man, for a Hapan” Cain joked, managing a small chuckle.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“But he leads us with distinction, even if he can be overly aggressive and too cunning for his own good, I am sure that those under your command likewise have praise for your own attributes” Cain said, adding a serious comment to counter his previous, potentially insubordinate in some officials eyes joke, while complimenting Joan in turn if ambiguously as Cain did not know her. However, everything that he had seen of her suggested to him that she was a fine officer, and so even if he did not know her qualities personally he knew they must exist.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]As she grunted and arched in pain, however, Cain also suspected that one of her qualities was likely stubbornness. But he decided to not mention anything as she made no further comment on it.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Nevertheless, I offer my condolences, I have heard you and your platoon experienced heavy combat at one of the Citadels, I am sure you and your men acquitted yourselves we” Cain finished, he had seen some of her troopers, they had the look of experienced soldiers about them and from the limited action reports he had seen the combat was fierce and even surviving was a feat.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“The Lieutenant gave his body and his spirit to get us out alive, but every single one of our men served with honour, courage, and distinction and I am proud to stand among them, and proud to serve with them under Lieutenant Draken and yourself ma’am, we are proud that our actions in the ruins very likely saved lives even if so many gave theirs to achieve that” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“And we will get our boys back home out of those ruins, we will not leave them behind, not after what their sacrifice gave us” Cain finished, casting a glance back toward the camp and the supplies now streaming into it. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Once the trench was finished Cain would have to request to go and check on the Lieutenant and the rest of the wounded. Until that time, however, Cain merely gave a respectful nod to Joan and returned to digging. His men continued, with more energy in their limbs as they were now content to know that their wounded brothers in arms now had the supplies needed to give them a chance at life. They had done something this day, people were better for having encountered them, and after the horror in the intersection the men allowed themselves to hope that they were something more than killers.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Recovery Tent[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Pharazon clawed his way back from the abyss of sedative unconsciousness as he laying aching and alive on a still rather makeshift bed. Once more he knew true enlightenment and once more he knew nothing but pain. After releasing a particularly grim growl of pain, he managed to attract a medical staffer to his side to administer a proper dose of appropriate painkillers. How do they have this much to spare… The camp was a filthy hovel before… before [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Pharazon muddily puzzled, before realising that he had only just awoken from surgery. Rapidly blinking his eyes Pharazon attempted to take stock of the scene around him in what was apparently some kind of recovery tent set up to monitor those fresh from emergency operations. To his left he could see Sandalphon, still sedated and missing a leg but alive, the knowledge comforted Pharazon. He was not entirely sure as to why he had taken such an interest in the man, but he was a capable and kind man. Sandalphon did not know it but Pharazon was well aware of the holo of his sister he carried with him at all times, and it gave Pharazon hope that families were not all like his own. He could also see in an opposite tent the other five of his heavily injured troopers, all in various states of recovery. He smiled slightly before his face burned like fire and he was forced to stop despite the painkillers.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He considered trying to force himself to his feet or into a wheelchair to go and visit his men wherever they were stationed or operating in the camp. However, when he tried he simply could not force his leg muscles to lift himself up. His right leg would not be working until he was immersed in a bacta tank for some time, his right arm was still effectively shattered if the beginnings of reconstruction had begun. He tried and he tried to force his massive muscles to move him, to force them by sheer will alone to carry him [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]onward[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] and upwards. He only succeeded in partially falling out of his bed or likely padded table and sending the medical staff scrambling to lift his great and powerful frame back onto the bed. Pain once more flooded his body from these straining movements and he groaned loudly.[/SIZE]

He felt powerless, weak, pathetic. He could only remember remnants of his strange experience, but he remembered the power. He remembered the power and he wanted that feeling back. However, even the memory of it was beginning to elude him. All he could properly remember was his sister, or he suspected his mind impersonating his sister, speaking to him, demanding that he live. I am alive I must content myself with that [SIZE=11pt]Pharazon sighed internally. All he could smell was disinfectant all over himself and the rest of the tent, all he could hear was a muffled bustling from all angles, he despaired at his subdued senses in this painkiller [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]fuelled[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] haze. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Pharazon did not know whether the First Order was victorious, or whether he would be praised or damned for his actions this day. He did not know if his men would follow him into battle again, if he could look the surviving Scorpio in the eye after sending his brother to his death, and he certainly did not know if he would survive or ever again taste that fleeting power once more. All he knew was that he was alive, and that he would keep on living, that he would never give up or give in, nor settle for less than perfection or abandon his dreams of power and revenge. All he knew was that he had to keep on living for his sister Elenthyia, all he knew was that if he could only ever do one thing for this galaxy it would be ensuring that his beloved sister was able to make her mark upon it with her boundless grace, intelligence, and compassion the likes of which Pharazon had never seen.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]However, he knew that something had changed for him in those ruins. He was no longer alone, no longer bereft of a cause or true bonds to others, he would forge this galaxy into something where people like his sister could live in peace. He and his stormtroopers would tread the governments of the stars underfoot to restore that most ephemeral state of peace and order to this chaotic galaxy, and maybe, just maybe, Pharazon could return to being that man he was in a time that seemed so long ago.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“I will live Elenthyia... for you... for you I would tread the void of space and fight upon any hellish battlefield... kill anyone... do anything... just to see you flourish” Pharazon wheezed nearly silently to himself under his breath.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He took a breath, exhaled, and then took another as that was what he must now do to pursue those grand ambitions. He had to live, no more and no less, he let his mind wander for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime of fighting on this planet. He allowed himself to drift off to sleep peacefully for the first time in months without cursing the names of members of his family and his enemies. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]For the first time in a long while, the lines of near paranoia stern and grim determination slipped from Pharazon’s face, and he allowed his body and his mind to rest. He and his stormtroopers had done their duty.[/SIZE]