Compliance (Zenithian Imperium Dominion of Kothlis)

[Invictus]

Invictus would tune out anything his Imperator had said before calling upon him, as it was not his place to make decisions of what would happen to traitors, vagabonds, or the ilk. He'd simply nod as his name was called, making his way back to his brother at arms, his gun raised once more into his hands as he prepared himself for battle. There wasn't much else for Invictus to do, other than follow the orders of his superior.

[member="Alexander Ontonas"]

 

[WolfMortum]

Commanding Officer: [member="Laman Ress"]

Laman Ress led his legionaries into the building whilst the bulk of the army attached to his unit remained outside, clearing away the survivors of those that sought to disobey and rise up against their regime. Mulokhai Pharise, one such man who's armaments meant nothing in the shadow of these elite warriors of the Zenithian Imperium; their bolters were heavy ordinance slugs propelled at enough speed as to chip through permacrete walls like butter, whilst his A280C Blaster Rifle. was both universal in how well it was known, equal that to the frequency of the weapons use. Armed too with a vibro-sword, he was capable of meeting the enemy in close quarters yet nothing to the degree of righteous slaughter that the chain-swords did to tear through their foe and wreck fear into the hearts of their brothers in arms.

From somewhere down the line, the order was given for the ground forces to pull back. Word reached their platoon as the structure that the legion had entered was soon caught ablaze and the elite filed out followed by their Commander who had led the assault. Mulokhai did not know his name but that he had earned his place in command, likely through many of the battles that the Zenithian Empire had already won to get to where it was. He and the others alike him all cleared a path for these two legged tanks to pass, clad of iron and alloys of war, the soldiers cheered in their respect to these men and all awaited the call to evacuate the planet so that they could then be issued new command, a new target to strike at the heart of and prove to all why this Imperium would be the one to bestow Order upon the worlds around, peace through the bleeding of those who would fight them.

 

[Ak'lya]

Oddly, for someone in his condition, Strask was still laughing. The wheezing noise ended with a couple of coughs, and the old man pushed himself up onto his good arm, another cough breaking through parched lips. "Man, you gotta love a good Jedi, right, Ambassador?" His left hand jerked back, and something fell into his hand. "Oh, by the way...."

His hand came up in a blur of motion, and a small, near impossible to see dart stabbed into the man's neck. Strask simply gave him a look that could make a Sith cower. "Do. Not. Mention. My. Wife."

Almost as he finished speaking, a young woman burst through the door, a holdout blaster in hand. When she saw him, she rushed to check on the Bothan. "Come on, old man, don't scare me like that."

He smiled. "Aww, Mara, I didn't know you cared." There was a small snicker as she helped him up.

"I have to earn my pay somehow, boss." She was smiling, but he could tell she wasn't happy with him. He mouthed Last time. She nodded, but didn't seem convinced.

He turned to Alexander. "I'll monitor the planet and keep you informed." His gaze fell on the Bith. "Come, Master Jedi. We have a ship to catch."

[member="Dune Rhur"] [member="Alexander Ontonas"]

 

[Dune Rhur]

[member="Strask Ak'lya"]

The dart was something Dune didn't see coming. There was nothing he could do to stop it. Dune wasn't sure if he or the bodyguards were more shocked. The man was dead when the Jedi went to check on him.

He frowned up at the Bothan's flippancy.

"He was disarmed. What you."

He straightened from his crouch. It was well past time to go. The bodyguards made no attempt to stop them. Hired goons tended to stop caring if the money stopped flowing or their assignment died.

"Let's go," he replied grimly as he walked off towards the docks.

 

[Ak'lya]

A small frown crossed Strask's face. "He's not dead. He's just in an induced coma. He'll come to in about an hour with a horrible headache and no memory of the last hour." He let out a loud, exaggerated sigh. "Really, sir, you disappoint me." He walked forward, swaying as his body wasn't ready to move yet. "You think I could kill a diplomat and get away with it?"

Sighing, he let Natasha lead him to the shuttle before sinking into a chair in front of a computer screen. He let out a pained sigh. "Alexander, can you hear me?"

[member="Dune Rhur"] [member="Alexander Ontonas"]

 

[Placeholder 0133]

Strask's voice reached Alexander's ears via his comm unit. He'd sheathed Worldbreaker in favor of his shacklebolt rifle and began to wade his way through the throng of bodies when it came through. With a quiet sigh of relief, the younger man answered. "I can hear you well enough Strask. How are you? Not dead yet?" He asked, a hint of a worried laugh at his voice.

He and the squad of Chosen moved through the ruined meeting hall with purpose. This was naught but a testament to Meneth's treachery, and they would see her pay dearly for the attempted assassination.

When they traversed the main room, Alex nudged [member="Invictus"] with his shoulder pauldron. "She has nowhere to go, but her soldiers are dug in. I trust you'll try not to trip over a grenade brother." He rumbled with quiet laughter, his thunderous mood abated for the moment.


[member="Strask Ak'lya"]

 

[Tyberius Fel]

Once again, the Imperium had decided to hire the Sun Guard and utilize his services for a rather tidy-sum. Aurelius had gotten himself cut off from the main body of the Zenithian advance upon the bloody-rotten planet, and ankle-deep in a enemy battalion. Hours and a few near-death experiences later, the Sun Guard waded himself out of a pile of roasted Bothans and briefly checked his comm links. Noting the location of his allied forces, Aurelius flicked a switch on his jetpack and immediately blasted off to regroup with the Zenithian forces.

The Sun Guard soared through the air, the stench of burnt flesh, scorched hair and jelled fuel following him like a chem-trail.

 

[WolfMortum]

"Dropships are inbound! ETA five mikes from LZ, grab your gear and make a move, men!" the word came from a superior ranking soldier, Mulokhai wasting no time in pushing himself up off of the rubble that he'd been sat upon, slinging his support pack over his left shoulder and shouldering his blaster rifle against his right, holding the grip in the one hand and moving out with the weapon held sideways and pointing to the floor so to be certain of no accidental misfires. The slog back to the rendezvous wasn't massively out of their way; stepping over the soldiers that they'd fought through to get to their objective, flashes of the previous fight came to mind in vivid succession. His armor was stained red in the places where it wasn't still wet and dripping off of him, his gauntlets had seen the worst of it as he'd been forced into physical combat when his rifle hadn't been adequet and he'd not had time to draw the vibro-sword, a long and troubling sword to draw upon when all the seconds counted. As for the smell, he couldn't entirely tell which of his was his enemies nor which portion was his own though he could taste the metal by merely looking down over himself, his body beat and tired.

The first glimpse of their evacuation came screaming down through the skies trailing lines of fire and smoke in their wake still rapidly cooling from the furious entrance through to the atmosphere. The troop carriers were most admirable in the way that they were built to withstand such treatment, the repulsors not lighting up until they were some meters from the ground before the engines were sent into overdrive and the thrusters boomed, slowing the goliath ships enough so that the landing while heavy and labored, avoid any damage to the underbelly. Once given the order to board, Mulokh followed alongside his peers, stepping up onto the boarding ramp and moving on into the interior which was lit by only a dim red bulb; sought to take his seat and strap himself in. It was here in the quiet that they would be able to restock on their ammunition and take what little rest was given before their new assignment would be passed down the line.

 

[Laman Ress]

Laman felt a sense of pride as he got into the drop ship. He almost always did, that rush of pride as you completed a mission was what made soldiering worth it. You always felt good after a mission, and then you just went on to the next. It was an endless cycle, which you would ocntinue till death.

Laman got into the shuttle, strapped into the specially made stations for the power armor, and sent the teams their breifings.

------------------------------------------------------

Alright men, we are going to go subjugate Kothlis. One of their higher ups have been giving violent resistance to a merger with the imperium, so we are going to force them into. Our job is to bring Kothlis into compliance. You will first muster into your divisions in orbit, then we will go in for the kill. You know what to do, this is not a spec ops mission, this is a war. Warmaster out.

These words would be transmitted by hologram to the commanders of each of the dropships, and should be presented to their teams, these men were soldiers, he trusted in them to carry out the orders.

[member="Mulokhai Pharise"]

 

[4ND-R0]

[member="Laman Ress"] | [member="Alexander Ontonas"]

"Understood, Imperator." He said firmly, his voice modulated underneath his newly adorned helmet. "Make sure your men don't fire upon me. Frayus, out." The Duke moved himself to touch an intercom that alerted all decks of his command ship. "Set a course for Roon."

Once again the ships faster than light engines were engaged. The once still stars that filled the dark tapestry of space streaked as the ship entered into a subspace that allowed them to travel, miraculously between start systems. In the meantime time, he looked over a map of room a servant pulled from the HoloNet, trying to pinpoint where the extraction would be. He recalled the Imperator speaking of the Obsidian Order, and decided to make his entrance near one of their sanctums. Lightspeed dropped, and before his command ship was the celestial sphere known as Roon. He waited in the space above the planet, placing an open frequency to contact the warriors below.

"Men of Zenith Prime." His baritone rumbled, "I am Duke Valin Frayus. Friend to your Imperium. I am here under instruction of your Imperator Ontonas for extraction to Kothlis. Please send your coordinates."

 

[WolfMortum]

[member="Laman Ress"] | [member="Valin Frayus"]

The Dropship touched off from the ground, Mulok turning to spare a glance outside looking to all the others as they began to file into the remaining transports. Returning his attention to his Rifle, he began dismantling it in order to shake and clean the grime and build up out of it that had been collecting during the course of the battle. Before long there new orders would come across the intercomm's in their helmets and earpieces, their new destination was to be Kothlis of which they would reign down hell upon for their defiance against the Zenithian Imperium.

There wasn't much to be said, these were the orders and they would obey to the letter. They believed in the Imperium and the order that they would bring, there was no discussions or diplomatic entourage's to be had, peace had to be demanded or chaos would remain. That was why he served, every moment of the fight was built upon the belief that he was helping to kill the oppression and the violence that would flood the future, by first eradicating the heretic that would seek to govern themselves in lawlessness and dishonor.

 

[Invictus]

"Aye, Imperator", Invictus replied coldly, as he turned completely around, facing the area the two had just left. Thoughts were racing through his head, the mission was almost over, was it not? Now back into the kitchen? There wasn't much left to think about however, as Invictus raised his bolter proudly this chest, walking back into the deathtrap they'd just escaped. "More heretics to purge," Invictus thought to himself as his golden boots pressed against the floor of the hallway, sending echoing bursts throughout.

[member="Alexander Ontonas"]

 

[Laman Ress]

Laman heard the call from [member="Valin Frayus"] through his headset. This could easily be a trap so Laman checked in with the soliders already on Kotlis. They confirmed his story.

"Alright men, dock with that vessel" Laman said to his crew over the comm.

The shuttles followed the orders flawlessly, docking with the vessel with a great precision. The ships landed and Laman unstrapped himself and then walked out into the hangar bay.

Laman and his men looked extremely imposing compared to the ground crews and the Imperial Army men with them. Laman made his way towards the bridge, all of the crew that he came across moved out of his way immediately, he would do the same if he came across a 7 foot tower of a man in hulking two ton armor.

Laman walked into the bridge, and approached the Alderaanian noble.

"Thank you for the pickup Duke Frayus, we are going to be subduing Kothlis, the Prime Ministers actions will not go unpunished." He said.

[member="Mulokhai Pharise"]

 

[4ND-R0]

[member="Laman Ress"]

The knightly adorned Duke looked through the view ports of his helmet. He sized up Russ with a silently expression. "Impressive." He noted, "Most impressive." He nodded to his helmsman, who punched in the coordinates for Kolthis and the extraction party were on the way to battle field.

"I never caught your name." He said simply to the titanic man that stood beside him, "And considering I shall be pooling my resources into the Imperium's assets, I can assume we shall be seeing more of one another."

It was true. He had a vast fortune associated with his name, and he was intending to use it to help fund necessary technology projects for the Imperium. The Order of the Righteous Flame was taking far too long and was not as notorious as the Imperium in the galaxy with its crusade on Force Users.

 

[Ak'lya]

A frown crossed the Bothan's face as the Imperator replied. "No, very much alive." He shifted, causing pain to shoot through the injured leg. "As much as my leg and shoulder think otherwise." Leaning forward as best he could, thew man began typing something on the terminal in front of him. A small groan escaped his lips. Nat was worried as she looked up from the terminal beside him. He nodded before she could speak. He had to focus.

"I think it's best I disappear from now on. I'm to old for legwork." He smiled at Nat's nod. "Now, there's a bunker under City Hall. I'ts guarded by the best security the Techno Union ever made, as well as some of the toughest defenses and best soldiers on Kolthis. It's designed to survive a planatary bombardment, and won't be easy to get into."

A few more taps brought up a series of schematics on his screen, as well as a security cam of the street outside the meeting hall. "Meneth has sealed herself inside. I'll try to guide you through, but my details are outdated at best. It may be harder than it sounds."

[member="Alexander Ontonas"]

 

[WolfMortum]

[member="Laman Ress"] | [member="Valin Frayus"]

The Dropship touched down with the Iron clad floor of the larger vessels hanger bay and filing out, the troops moved to evac the smaller transport in order for the blood and dirt to be washed out of it, not to mention the damages dealt during the fight, to be repaired. The battalion all moved to stand in formation and await further instructions by their superiors, Mulokh' among them and standing at ease alongside his brothers of war. The venture to Kothlis would take some time yet but it would offer some much needed refurbishment for their arms and mental health.

Standing there aboard what he could only assume was a capital class ship, a generalization of a larger class of war vessel, he considered how much things had changed from the simpler life of eco-farming. Thrust into war, to serve and to lay down the law to all who would destroy the peace of others, it was the new life he had chosen for himself and one that resembled nothing of his former days. While this was in some part, a loss, it was a necessary sacrifice.

 

[Ak'lya]

A sigh escaped the Bothan as he watched the monitor. The Chosen were besieging the Hall, and troops began to deploy all over. This would turn into a bloodbath, and quickly. Hopefully they would have Meneth soon and all this could be over. One thing stood in his mind. Kolthis would never forget.

"Can you patch me into their chain of command?" He asked Nat.

"Yeah. I'll get on that." She sat quiet for a moment, thinking about something. "It's not your fault." she added finally, her eyes never leaving the screen. "You did your best."

"No I didn't." The scowl on his face said enough. "I could have hit her before she got away. I could have worded my address better. I could have..."

"Stop." She glared as he looked up, startled at her anger. "Even if all that is true, you don't get to focus on that now. You want to help your people, Strask?" Her eyes locked into his, anger and patience mingling there. "Then stop the fighting."

"How the karking hell am I supposed to do that?"

"Get them to stop fighting."

 

[WolfMortum]

The Route to Kothlis was a glorious one yet not one for the Soldiers of the Imperium, instead Mulokh and his brothers in arms spent the time restocking ammunition supplies, turning in their worn battlements for new armor and gear to meet those upon the new battlefield. The Transports were to be flushed out, the blood of the injured washed away so to portray a fresh sense of hope for those that had lived, intent on going into the next world to unleash hell upon the undeservers, the unkept and the heretics fighting against true order. That was of course, the motivation behind many of the faces of soldiers fighting for their cause, Order and inevitable peace through force.

"Pharise", one of the higher ranking officers called to him as he was helping the mean cleanse the red stained floor of the troop dropship they'd flown in on. Immediately halting what he was doing, he turned and stood at attention, respecting the chain of command with the authority that was so demanded, "Yes'sir" He responded quickly, looking his superior in the eyes, unflinching nor compromising. "At ease, Soldier.." His superior spoke with some reluctance, a hint of regret in his tone causing Mulokhai to question what the word was to be. "Due to recent casualties, you're being promoted to sergeant. You will lead your squad down on Kothlis and if you do not die for the Imperator, you will learn to live for Order. Understood...". Mulokh stared back at the man now a little more wide eyed though he did his utmost not to show it, "Understood, Sir" he almost barked back in haste to his superior before the man nodded and moved away, leaving him to stand there a little panicked and surprised at the sudden change in rank.

Returning to the drop ship, his brothers all looked to him and nodded in confirmation and acknowledgement, they'd all heard and understood what this meant, Mulokh would be forced to make life changing decisions for the need of the Imperium the next time they stepped into the warzone. Overhead the call came in from the bridge that they were nearing Kothlis, out by ten mikes. "Let's get this clean, we're not done for the day..." he tried to ignore the sudden new pressures that were to be upon his shoulders. Stepping into battle with regrets or reluctance was like giving yourself up to a pack of warhounds serenaded with fine cuts, only certain death and worse, defeat came from such a thing.

 

[4ND-R0]

[member="Strask Ak'lya"] | [member="Mulokhai Pharise"]

"Do not think you are just going to leave me up her, lads." The Alderaanian noble quipped down to the Zenithians. He boarded his own shuttle and followed the course down to the planet's surface. He did not come all this way just to be a ferryman. No, he Valin, scion of House Frayus, the Red Dragon. The lust for war and conquest was practically apart of his inheritance. The knightly clad Duke stepped off the shuttle craft and into the Fray of battle with the rest of his newfound kinsman in war. At his hip, he drew a durasteel vibroblade, fashioned like the blades of the old knights of Alderaan. He had chosen the archaic weapon not only as a link to his past, but as a symbol free of connotations with the Force.

The Duke, with crimson dragon painted across his breast, joined with the Zenithians. Compared to the titanic armor of the commanders, he was little more than an improved on of their foot soldiers. Yet he wanted to show that he could be more than that. He wanted to show these Zenithians the measure of his burning hatred for the Force, and for all of those who had chosen to make war over the conflict between light and darkness.

 

[WolfMortum]

[member="Strask Ak'lya"] | [member="Valin Frayus"]

Mulokhai slapped the magizine into the underside of the Tribune Bolter Rifle as he moved to board the ship only once the others had stepped up onto the deck and strapped into the drop ship. The Firearm was much heavier than his previous blaster though after the ware and tear and given he was now allowed access to higher grade weaponry, he'd taken up the opportunity to arm himself with something much heavier in terms of firepower. With his Vibro-blade over his back securely tied down at an angle, he reached for the high rail and hoisted himself up into the troop transport, sparing a final glance back to the capital ship before pulling the sliding reinforced door closed and sealing the locking mechanism, the green light flaring to signal all was clear and the cabins air pressure would be stable for the descent unto war.

Taking his seat beside one of the troops, he nodded to them in reassurance before raising a hand to the right side of his helm, looking across them to all of them as he spoke through the comm-unit; "This will be my first command but you all know who I am and I know what you can all do out there. Nothing changes, honor our dead by spilling the blood of the enemy. Let nothing stand between the Imperium and victory, we go to cleanse this land..." His voice was bold, confident and his focus saw nothing else but what was in front of them. The life of a soldier was a bloody yet glorious one, tarnished not with the decisions of leadership and politics but the narrow view that was 'know your enemy and send them to their god'. Beyond Duty there was nothing else to be said.

The breach into Kothlis' atmosphere ignited the drop ship in flames, protected by the outer-shield, the descent down into the world made the vessel look like the epitome of catastrophe, a burning ball of metals and alloy, the velocity of their entry finally turning to smoke as the clouds and the open sky cooled and dissipated the flames, the cockpit now in view of the war-zone below. Above Mulokh, the light changed to red, signalling them all to arm themselves and prepare for landing. "Thirty seconds, arm yourselves!" he called to them off the comm's, the unit disengaged and like him, the men all loosing their secured straps to free themselves and prepare to swarm off of the deck and into the madness. The Dropship hit the ground with a tremendous chrash and Mulokh tore the door aside shouting to the others overhead of the bolter fire that could be heard ahead of them.

"To War! To Victory for the Empire!".