Junction CRISIS ON KUAT II | GA & NIO Junction of Korbin & Anzat

[Isla Draellix-Kobitana]

SITREP: FUBAR​

Location: approaching Kuat Drive Yards
Objective: return ships to Ashlan hands
Tags: Liedran Kathause open

Spoiler: Fleet elements

Command Vessel
Noble Crusader class battlecruiser
Avenging Saint

2 x Templar Class Star Destroyers
Staff of Majesty
Pillar of Spring

4 x Dominion Class Escort Frigates

4 x Principality Class Corvettes

Even split complements of
Pegasus Interceptor Starfighters
Phoenix Multirole Starfighter
Knave Transports

Numerous
Ashla's Mercy orbital insertion shield generators

Infantry available
Ashlan Marines

Spoiler: Isla's Personal Gear

Admiral's Sabre
Ashlan Rosary
Viper Skin Suit under uniform
Personal guard of Ashlan Praetorian droids
Overseer Biochip OPBC-01a

Almost as soon as her transmission ended one of her aides informed her of an incoming message "Admiral Draellix, private communication on diplomatic channels for you, would you like it on the viewer? It is from The Arbiter Attache to Senator Kobitana of the Galactic Alliance."

"I know who that is, thank you, please send to my private ready room." Isla went in to the ready room along side entrance main bridge and watched the message. Kark! What is going on? If The Abiter hadn't heard from her either? Isla knew how much the two contacted each other, it was the only way the Arbiter could reliably represent her interests. She submitted a response. "She sent me details of the hostilities on Kuat as a warning, but I have not heard anything since then. Please keep me informed." The formality of the message hurt her, but it was necessary at this time. She was concerned about Tiresh's safety, did she put herself at risk by alerting Isla? She felt a knot. In her stomach, but she had to put it aside for now.

Her communications officer buzzed her, and informed her that her message had received a response from the Alliance. She steeled herself, looking at her reflection in the transparisteel viewports as she touched the outline of her snowflake necklace under her uniform. Please be safe, my love she said quietly out into space as if Tiresh might somehow hear her.

She stepped back confidently onto the bridge, not showing an ounce of the weight she now carried, that was good as Ashla clearly felt like she needed some more.

Ashlan Fleet, this is the Naval Strategic Commander Sylix overseeing the operation held at Kuat. You have illegally entered Galactic Alliance territory during a highly sensitive combat operation, something that might have been considered a serious provocation under different circumstances. Right now, however, you may just have come at the right time. The New Imperials have ambushed our forces and are bent on destroying the Shipyards, we require your immediate assistance in defending Kuat's people. Link up with main GA forces in-system and aid in their defence. I'll connect you to the main battle network for coordination. Commander Sylix out.

Illegally? She thought, the terms of their Alliance allowed her fleet access to Alliance space, particularly the shipyard that Archangel required for repair work. She had even had the foresight to double check with the Chancellor? No matter, politics it was then, oh joy, her favourite thing, when given a choice between a life and death broadside fight against one of Marlon Sularen death machines and a no right answer political exchange, she would take to filthy Mawite any day.

"NSC Sylix , this is Draellix, your reply is heard and understood. Our presence her is legal under the terms of our treaty, but I understand the problematic timings. My aim is simply to retrieve my vessels, if you are able to authorise release of the magnetic clamps I can have my AI remotely operate them to clear the dry dock without any damage to our or your property.

As to your request for me to join your battle lines, The terms of our Alliance do not cover political disputes such as this, nor does it oblige us to violate any other treaties we are currently observing except in times of existential threat." The treaty document would appear and begin scrolling in front of Sylix too much ro read now, but SAINT had highlighted relevant passages.

"To this end I must decline your request to join your battle lines against the NIO as I do not have the authority to start a war against the Imperials on behalf of the Crusade" that was a lie, she absolutely did have that authority as Prime Minister, but likely Pietro Demici Would have her head for acting in such a way without discussion, she didn't much care for the Imperials, they were barbaric and of an older time, but they were her allies still and her Lord valued their Alliance greatly.

"I can see the NIO are causing you trouble and you are a very important commander to Alliance operations, please, do not spare any more trouble worrying about my small retrieval mission."

Outside, her fighters circled, waiting for the order to strike, they had been given potential orders to strike at the magnetic clamps holding the warships in place. This was an order of last resort to free the vessels if all hell broke loose and the battlecruiser engines did not prove powerful enough to break the grapple. But the chances of Isla giving the order to open fire on an Alliance military installation was very slim indeed.

Things were beginning to heat up outside, she hoped that the Imeprials would provide her potential political adversary with enough to think about that he wouldn't drag this negotiation out, she had other things she needed to think about now.

​

 

[Sora Mohc]

T H E _ R I S I N G _ S U N
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
ROYAL GUARDSMAN
KNIGHTS OF THE EMPIRE

​

"If the enemy thinks of the mountains, attack like the sea; and if he thinks of the sea, attack like the mountains."

- Miyomori Musashi​

---

"Go forth to the Kuat system, you will be my eyes. Insure our mission in the system is seen through, let nothing fetter my will. For the Empire."

The holographic image of the Emperor blared overhead before the humble warrior kneeling before it’s powerful visage. He hung his head low as the dark locks of hair fell over his face, illuminated by the bright circle centered around him engrained into the very durasteel below.

“It will be done. By your Will.”

His head rose to lock eyes with that of unbending iron. His right hand reaching out to seize the half-mask attached to his hip, pressing it against his face as it locked into place.

<“For the Empire!”>

---

---

---

SITREP: FUBAR​

NIO Allies - SCAR Squad: Hal Vaiken Volgin Alto Kelinna Tryn Atticus Draco
Enemies - War Hogs: Monos Keiran Varn Phaineve Halseigh Zav Traros


The Drive Yards were the property of the Empire, there were no two ways about it. The location of the planetary operation inside the confines of the flawed democratic state meant little when compared to the vast military-industrial complex that fed the New Imperial War Machine. It was the failures of the Alliance that led to the withdrawal of the Imperial; so too would it be so with the secessionists, the failures of the Alliance falling short once more upon the rage fueled Kuati.

To fight this truth was to fight reality. The Empire was Order, the Empire was Security. That is why it is perfect.

His deployment to the Kuat System was swift as would be his judgement upon those who would defy the Will of Iron. Communications were a mixed bag, a jumbled mess of hot tension heightened by the escalating conflict. Sharpened senses sorted through the intercepted traffic of transmissions, a logistical hell.

Twin doors hissed with a silent scream, steel parted before the representative of unbending iron. Stepping past the threshold into the massive hangar bay the Imperial Knight set his eyes upon the source of the distressed signals. A firefight, a big one, engaged in the heart of a New Imperial military zone. The hangar was lined with New Imperial property, assets to be retrieved by the Navy overhead.

The Royal Guard’s eyes lit up as an explosion engulfed a far off Imperial vessel, the engulfing inferno stained the visage of his personage as he stared back with the remorseless glare of one about to kill in the name of a higher purpose. A rippling wave of hot air suddenly pressed against him, violently tearing away the thin cloak lain over his crimson armor.

Lifting his hand, the Imperial Knight gripped the sheathed saber at his hip — and entered the fray.

 

[Dracken Pryce]

Allies: Liedran Kathause | Valery Noble | Iris Arani | Sylix
Enemies: Hiram Voss
???: Isla Draellix-Kobitana

Galactic Alliance Common Soldier Corps - Kyprin Renegades
Location: Kuat Sector - Kuat System
Aboard the Kyprin Renegade

"Comms are down, my teams are on a fix!"

"Thank you, lieutenant." Pryce pinched his brow. The fire was still flying but the Imps looked to be pulling back, into defensive positions? Of course, they thought Kuat was theirs now. Despite comms being down the holotable's tight beam receiver was blinking. The VI looked at it with a surprised look and peeked up at Pryce to watch the General's expression.

"It's the Imperial Flagship." Pryce sucked his teeth and with a sigh, Pryce waved his hand.

"Answer it. Don't know what we have to talk about though."

"Listen, this is Vice-Admiral Hiram Voss, of the New Imperial Navy," Voss began, "I don't know who did this. Who decided to be the freak who did that, but, I think we should talk a little about this." Voss licked his lips. He was a short, stocky man. Aged, and bald. With a grizzled white beard. And cold eyes. "I am not a rash man. And what happens today, will change the course of history." Voss proclaimed in a tense, and even voice. "I have my orders to ensure the safety of Kuat and its people today, with no intention of starting a war." Hiram continued, glaring at the camera, "But if what happened down there is yours. And you firing at us is a follow up, than that is what it is. A declaration of war." He could feel his foot begin to tap, and his fingers begin to fiddle once more. "So be prepared to bear that burden of thousands dead." ​

"Vice-Admiral." The name was familiar. Wasn't he a captain during the Civil War? Well, a lot of officers died on both ends, its only natural for competent leaders to rise to the top. It wasn't as if his own rise to the rank of Admiral in the old Alliance navy during the Great Galactic War was any more based on his skill rather than the lack of eligible leaders.

"This is Alliance space, the protection of Kuat and its people does not fall to you. You and I are both military men. The good ones never want war, and I appreciate that about you." He paused to glance out of the viewport at the chaos below on the ring. "But as a military man, you know as well as I do it's never us who make those decisions, and it seems that choice has already been taken from us." He nodded, a solemn finality to his words. "May the Force be with you Vice-Admiral." He didn't wait for a response. He waved his hand over the transceiver and the VI cut the connection. Now he understood why the Imps hadn't pressed their advantage. It was disappointing that the New Imperial Order had made this choice, but the Force willed as it did.

Taking a seat in the captain's chair, Pryce brought up a holographic display of what he had been seeing on the tactical table and strapped in. He didn't think he would be the ranking officer of this operation once real Alliance forces were involved, but it seemed that Liedran Kathause still had those confidence issues he'd seen so many times in his officer reviews. That was fine.

"General! We've got a fix for that jamming! Opening channels now!" All at once, two dozen or more voices began coming through. Pryce closed his eyes and focused like that grimoire had taught him. Focused and focused and-

<Transmission>

"Alliance fleet, this is Master Noble. Standing by to offer support.​

"Get that Jedi on the line! I've got a job for her-"

"General...The Ashlan fleet...Its moving towards the ring. Doesn't look like they're firing on anyone!"

"Are they just here to watch? What could they want with-" Then it dawned on him. "She's after something on the ring." He cursed. There wasn't much they could do until they got these damn Imps out of the system. He was sure though, things would only heat up from here.

​

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

SUNK COSTS
CHANCELLOR’S SUITE // CORUSCANT

ASSETS: Auteme | Madelyn Lowe | The Arbiter | GA
LIABILITIES: Rurik Fel | Caarlyle Rausgeber | NIO

The message back from Gat Tambor was prompt, and as Tithe had come to expect from his long association with the magnate, looked through the events of the present and into the future. Either of the pair could have succeeded in the world of galactic commerce, but it was that they were allied that set them apart from the rabble. Were the Trade Federation a business and not a cabal, Tithe would be the CFO to Tambor as CEO. The Aargauun watching the credit books while the Skakoan made the deals.

The current Alliance policy settings were favourable to big business but were under assailment from all sides. While The pro-Corporatist Senate had introduced the SILK Trade Route Act, the latest in a long line to profitable legilsation, a growing anti-Corporatist bloc threatened to unseat Tithe and steal the Chancellorship. If an agreeable outcome to the situation at Kuat could not be found, all his work would be quickly undone by his detractors.

The Iron Comlink connected, linking the Alliance representatives with their New Imperial Order colleagues. The looming faces of Emperor Fel and Grand Admiral Rausgeber spared no time in making demands of the Alliance. Demands that were, frankly, quite reasonable.

And that was what made Tithe suspicious.

“An exchange of prisoners? My, Grand Admiral, I must say I’m surprised. How very, uhh, cordial of you,” Tithe replied, launching straight in. “That you would so willingly hand over your agents provocateur who harass the citizens of Kuat - Alliance citizens I might add - my, I must say say I’m floored.” Sarcasm was so rarely a useful tool in the boardroom, though the Imperial had already demonstrated an unwillingness for objective debate.

“Because, and now correct me if I’m wrong, but these rules of military and diplomatic deportment that we all hold so dear, they surely, surely, prohibit foreign interference in the sovereign affairs of another nation.” The reports from the SIA had been clear - Loghain had met with representatives of the NIO to garner support for his planned sedition. The timing of the pro-Loghain riots right as the NIO was coming to collect their cruisers was far too convenient.

“Or perhaps I’m mistaken. Do forgive me,” Tithe quickly added, turning his attention to Fel. “I must confess I also understood the same holy etiquette would stop prohibit an ally from abandoning another without so much as, ahh, cause or the right of reply.” The Imperials sudden flight from Coruscant in the wake of the Brotherhood attack and public dissolution of the Galactic Trivuumerate and the Bastion Protocols had been a diplomatic nightmare. No warning, no debate, no backchannels. In the course

“Now gentlment, luckily for you that while these arcane rules of statesmanship elude me, there is one a set of rules that I hold dearly, ohh yes very dearly. The sanctity of a commercial contract.”

“Take the ships, we have no use for them.” In the current age of anti-Imperialist sentiment, the Alliance fleet could no sooner field the distinct triangular Star Destroyers than it could adorn the Senate rotunda with the visage of Darth Solipsis . “And while you’re going, all Imperial operatives from the Kuat system. We’ll of course retain all Alliance assets - the shipyard infrastructure, unused consumables, and KDY workers.”

“And how’s this, a little sweetener. I’ll even throw in Julius Loghain . I’m sure your regime can find a plump role for him undermining another system of government, an undertaking in which he has proven most adept.”

Both parties had made their opening offers. And now, the negotiations began.

 

[Gillan Eru]

O B J E C T I V E- 2
K U A T -D R I V E- Y A R D S
Zoraya Ives-Ayres | Mattali Omenza ​

The corridor shuddered, accompanied by the sound of a distant explosion. He thought it was the third, but he hadn't kept count. Yet, the large group of technicians and maintenance workers reacted the same, filling the hallway with audible gasps and panicked looks
"Keep moving, don't look back." Gillan instructed. They moved with tempo, flanked by the small team of Alliance troopers who accompanied him in clearing out the maintenance level. The corporal was at the head of the group, he was a Nautolan approaching his mid-fifties, who had taken it upon himself to guide them back the centralized turbolift platform.

Gillan caught himself staring when the man raised his arm to access his commlink. "This is corporal Hardun. We have cleared the maintenance levels and are now en-route to zone six." He spoke with purpose and conviction, the kind that made you doubts disappear. Like victory was within reach, and everything would turn out fine. But as a Jedi, he knew better.

The Force was overflowing with anguish and misery. Clouding his senses, and bringing distress with every rhythmic beat of his own heart. It was nothing short of overbearing. And yet, somehow, he managed. Barely.

"Padawan Eru!" The deep voice of the corporal made him snap out of his thoughts. Gillan quickened his pace, until he jogged alongside him.
"Yes?"
"I've received word that there's a mainframe terminal on the lower levels. It needs to be secured."
"Do you mean?-"
"Yes. I'll send some men after you once these people have reached zone six." The black pools that were his eyes locked on those of the Padawan. "Take the next right, and follow the corridor till you reach the far end. It should be somewhere in that section." Gillan nodded, and immediately departed.

The corporal gave him this responsibility. And there was no way in the Force that he would let him down.

 

[Prefsbelt Commander]

THE INQUISITOR
Special Agent Andreas Beckett
NIV Imperatores Pax
Kalie Alverez

​

Andreas watched her with some wry amusement. As she tried to switch out to some sort of wounded personality. It was pathetic. Really. He scoffed and let it play out with folded arms, sighing as she did so. It wasn't exactly the first time he'd seen something like this, Beckett had been an interrogator for sometime. And cries to mother, in his experience were typically reserved for the very weak, when they had either suffered a great deal. Were cowardly upon first being sat down. And finally, the last category were those who very clearly informed of their imminent incarceration and or sentenced to death. But this, this was out of character.

"So M stands for Mother?" He shook his head and looked down, "Look, Miss Alverez, if I may be so bold, we both know this charade is a crock." He scowled, "We both know, that this whole premise, you've cooked up here, it's a fantasy. For you to be able to- I don't know." He threw up his hands, "It's childish really. Especially from you." He licked his lips, and retrieved her notepad. He began to flip through the pages, "Because if this M is your Mother, why are you writing correspondence of a meeting between high ranking officials? She just the biggest Loghain fan?" He quirked his brow, and offered a snide smirk. "I have the footage here Miss Alverez, if you were just some poor girl, how did you, with a cigar still hanging from your eye socket manage to take on, and let alone almost win against a Special Forces unit?" Beckett mused, "While, unarmed. How you managed to seemingly ignore the pain of a cigar in your eye, for approximately forty six seconds before reacting?"

Andreas took a deep breathe. "Look I suppose if you're not going to be forthcoming on this front, why not skip to the end?" A non-chalant shrug, he reached for a commlink, "Come in." Andreas looked to Kalie, "We both know, that Julius Loghain is immaterial to my inquiries. This interest in you Miss Alverez extends beyond that. If we were really interested, we would have datamined your pad there. Cracked it, and read all the juicy little details."

"Pfft, Mother..." Andreas scoffed as two Prefsbelt Stossjaegers entered armed with what looked like lightsabers, and a collar. "I doubt you even know the concept of Motherhood." Andreas began snorting, "I mean, you're never going to be pregnant. You'll never know what it's like to raise your own flesh and blood, because you don't have any." Andreas paused as one of the Stossjaegers moved behind, and attached a collar around her neck. Shackling her to the neck.

"You have perhaps... A simulation of it. Only a vague feeling of what pain. What love. What emotion is." Beckett paused some, "Because, what you are Miss Alverez, is a droid. And you probably know it. Don't you?" He allowed a smile to purse his lips, "There's probably been some part of you, where you... question, how it all came?" he inquired, "How you, managed to land such a job. Unassuming as you are, in the security services of a premier Galactic government?" He then paused, "Why you don't have any long term ambitions? Why didn't you settle for a comfy job?" Beckett inquired, "Did you ever-ever think, about who you are? How your friends, you don't know them?" The Naval Intelligence Officer continued, "Your childhood, distant as it is, was so, so bizarre? How there are no school memories to really linger upon. How you have no family to truly call upon?"

One of the Stossjaegers moved to Alverez's side, and ignited the blade. A red blade, formerly Sith, and surplus to New Imperial Navy from Sith Imperial stores. "This isn't torture," Andreas explained, as the blade was lowered, "This, is for your own good Miss Alverez. You're going to learn the truth." The blade lowered, slower and slower. "You probably never felt a thing. Never felt alive." Andreas raised his own hand, ordering a silent halt, as the blade menacingly sat there, right above her right hand. "But today, that changes." The Stossjaeger stilled herself, while her compatriot tightened the collar.

"You and me Kalie," Andreas leaned back in the seat, "We are going to find out who you really are."

 

[Zav Traros]

Objective 2: Sitrep:Fubar​

Opposition: Hal Vaiken Volgin Alto Kelinna Tryn Atticus Draco
War Hogs: Monos Traden Avarice Phaineve Halseigh Keiran Varn

---

Two minutes until landing. The plan was to steal a ship, get in and get out; but he knew well that plans rarely survive contact with the enemy. And with the situation on Kuat growing more heated, he had no clue what he'd be in for. What news he'd heard told of chaos on the scene; loyalists had came into conflict with secessionists, no doubt stoked by the flames of the N.I.O who was also regretfully present. But the War-Hogs would be too in only a moment; and Zav braced himself to handle whatever they'd be facing.

The War Hogs donned the flag of the Rebel Alliance. There'd be plausible deniability were they caught – albeit for the Galactic Alliance. It was a sacrifice Zav was willing to make when the opportunity had been presented, and nothing had changed. Consequences for failure would be dire, and aid withdrawn if the group got into a bind; but these were not worries he could encumber himself with before they embarked on their task. Fretting over failure was pointless, he simply had to keep focus on what they needed to do.

"Alright! Keep your coms clear! We will establish a defendable position once inside! From there Mr. Cuddles and I will create a distraction while you and the rest of the squad continue to secure the objective!" T

Thirty seconds now.

"Clear and understood. I'll be ready to deploy as soon as we land-"

He was abruptly interrupted by the violent jostle the Temptress made in reaction to the sudden attack punching through the hull. The force of it knocked him clear out of his seat and onto the floor ahead of it, before sliding back as the ship careened in the other direction. Zav soon found himself beside a shelf, with his back to the lounge's wall while the ship shook amidst strained metallic groans of pain – pain that would be shared with him without anything to blunt the force of the oncoming crash.

Looking around, there wasn't much. The shelf had spilled it's contents, leaving a mess of broken bottles and spilled liquor on the ground. Zav pulled out one of the horizontal boards that lined the shelf; only more broken bottles and glasses fell from it as he did. Still in search of an answer, Zav wouldn't find it before the ship careened into the surface, tossing the grenadier clean across the room with the wooden board flung from his hand in a trajectory ahead of him.

Both flew towards a corner of the room. The board struck first, and Zav struck hard next, bouncing off of it to crash roughly into the wall behind it. The haunting scrape of metal continued around him while the ship finally came to a halt, leaving the room in a disarray of debris and broken glass wading in a soup of spilled booze.

"Is- Is everyone okay?!"

Yeah, that was a good question. He didn't feel injured, but with the sudden burst of adrenaline in his veins from the sudden crash, he felt outright numb. But there wasn't any blood and both his legs still moved, which was a good sign. The bump couldn't have been good for him, but he could still move and he could still fight – in his books, that was 'OK' enough.

"Karking...chit..I'm ok. but I've been way better" Zav responded, finally getting up and gathering his spilled gear with the help of Traden; a welcome sight for the sorry crumpled heap he'd become.

"WAR HOGS!! ENGAGE!!"

The call to battle spurred Zav into action; that and the sounds of gunfire that could already be heard in the ship. But that was Traden's issue to deal with; Zav had his orders and he'd carry them out. He hurried outside the crashed ship, wasting no time in moving forward into position while blaster bolts and explosions rocked the scene of battle. He'd have to get his bearings, and he'd have to be quick about it.

Firing a grenade ahead of him, it burst behind a low wall; but ultimately took out no one. It made sure no one was using it though, and Zav would soon after once he hopped over it. Now in a defendable position, he took the opportunity to reload the spent grenade, and quickly consider which of the ships would make the best candidate for the given objective. There was only a moment to decide.

 

[Hiram Voss]

The Veteran
NIV Imperatores Pax
Task Force Brutus
Kuat System
Orys Draste | Albrecht F. Herlock | Hal Vaiken | Kelinna Tryn
Dracken Pryce | Valery Noble | Sylix | Liedran Kathause
Isla Draellix-Kobitana

​

The transmission was cut, and Hiram was left gobsmacked by the punctuality of it. He wasn't some grand speech maker like Rausgeber. He didn't enjoy grandstanding. No, the Vice Admiral was more of a direct negotiator than an orator. Down to business. It never hurt him before to have a quiet word with the enemy. But Pryce, he was something else." He's a psychopath. An absolute psychopath." He was incredulous. They had a moment to end this. To de-escalate. To stop the madness. And yet he didn't. The Rampart was rocked by a barrage of fire, which shook Hiram to his core. This was it. He was going to start a Galactic conflict. His stomach plummeted, and the man felt profoundly ill. It was, sickening.

"Sir what are our orders?" Hiram's attentions turned to Boars, who also looked shaken. This was it then. This was war. And Hiram Voss was not about to let himself be taken for a fool by some prick. No. No. He was going to survive this. Show that Pryce fella the whatfor.

"Return fire!" Voss snapped, "Concentrate fire on that lead vessel." Voss commanded, with a scowl. He felt his hand twitching. God he needed a cigarette. "If we can take this fucker out, we might see if we can negotiate with someone a little more rational." Voss looked to the Alliance's arrayed vessels and took in a deep breathe. Breathe Hiram. Breathe. He looked to the vessels down below, and winced. By the Force they were still in play. The Alliance had already likely blown up one. They'll blow up more.

"Belay the comms jam!" Hiram barked, there was a pause from the Comms station, followed by a look back. "That's right. See if we can hatch into the droid brains of those ships," Voss commanded, "We need to get them out of the way, if we're gonna take on those ships." Hiram looked, "These are warships aren't they? They've gotta have something!" Voss snapped, "Get on it!"

Hiram turned his attentions to the Alliance fleet as the first volleys of fire crossed the stars, aimed at the formation. Those bastards. "Admiral!" A call from the comms station, "Sir, we have a situation. We can't remotely slave the vessels," Bloody marvellous. "We're going to need to dispatch someone to manually switch the lead destroyer. Once that one's done, the others will follow, should it be beamed from the communications array. " Great. Perfect. Another layer on top of this. "Shall I get in contact with SCAR squadron?"

"We have operatives aboard?" Voss' mood and interest was piqued. There was an affirmative nod. "Yes. Yes. Get them. We'll need those ships." Especially if there was another war about to be fought.

"Sir!" Hiram turned his head. What could it be this time? "Ashlan Crusade vessels, they've entered the system!"

Spoiler: Fleet Composition

1x Rampart-Class Dreadnought

1x Stalwalt-Class Carriers

2x Cuirassier-Class Cruisers

2x Dragoon-Class Frigates

4x Tirallieur-Class Artillery Frigates

7x Escolta Class Frigates

8x Warrior-II Class Corvettes

4x Gurkha Class Corvettes

3x Cacadore-Class Corvettes

 

[Mattali Omenza]

Objective 2

Location: Kuat Central Space Traffic Systems
Gear:
Storm Armor Mk. IV
REC Scatter Gun
REC-DC/04 Particle Blaster Pistol

Tags: Zoraya Ives-Ayres Gillan Eru

The ISB agent just gave her all the wrong vibes. The twit just began balking orders like she owned the place. Which, she sorta did, but Mirinda didn't much care for it. Still, she knew that being a deviant was a sure fire way to get shot, so she popped off a salute and fell in line behind the woman. Least her job was simple. Hacking into terminals and establishing systems control was easy peasy. "Understood ma'am." Letting her REC hang from the strap across her shoulder, Mirinda tapped away at the small wrist computer on her armor, loading up her access codes, and putting her slicing tools on stand-by.

She wasn't sure why Zoraya wasn't bringing more back up with them. A combat engineer and a spook weren't exactly dream team to beat in CQC combat, but hell, if the ISB agent bought it she was more than willing to play dead and hype up her tale in the after action reports. The derailing of thoughts made her quietly pray that Zoraya didn't have force powers, because explaining her thought process over that might be a bit difficult. If only this suit didn't inhibit her pheromones, sweet talking usually got her out of trouble like this. Seeing a sealed blast door up ahead, Mirinda doubled towards the door control access, and plugged in, trying to speedily open the door so they could get this little side op over and done with. Still, flirtation was in her blood, and talking made the time fly; so that's exactly what Mirinda did. "So, first time with a Zeltron? Don't worry, everyone's nervous on their first time." Despite being limited to one hand, she tapped away at the screen, her inputs chipping away at the out of date security protocols with her keystroke. The small chime her device produced opened up the door, and the path ahead was revealed to them. "And done."

What Mirinda did not see at first, was two GA soldiers taking position behind improvised barricades. Her eyes found the first soldier as he raised a blaster to her, and Mirinda swiftly panicked and discharged her scatter gun into the deck. "Take cover!" She shouted out, diving behind a bulkhead as blaster fire erupted from the two vanguards.

So much for making a good impression on little miss attitude.

 

[Orys Draste]

​

Allies: Hiram Voss
Enemies: Dracken Pryce // Liedran Kathause

Task Force Sovereign

• IOS Invictus - Cuirassier Class Cruiser [100 // 100]​
  • Squadrons:​
    • Callsign: Bastion - TIE/OTx - 16​
    • Callsign: Kingmaker - TIE/OTx - 16​
    • Callsign: Chalice - TIE/VX - 8​
• IOS Transgressor - Escolta Class Frigate [100 // 100]​
  • Squadrons:​
    • Callsign: Sunrise - TIE/OTx - 16​
    • Callsign: Moonlight - TIE/INx - 12​
    • Callsign: McCoy - TIE/INx- 12​
• IOS Dragoon - Cacadore Class Corvette [100 // 100]​
• IOS Coruscant Bound - Cacadore Class Corvette [100 // 100]​
• IOS Death's Head - Gurkha Class Corvette [100 // 100]​
• IOS Nibiru - Gurkha Class Corvette [100 // 100]

The Invictus turned and courted the Kuat Drive Yards - watching as the situation went from bad to worse. Political tension ran high, and while the New Imperial Order strived to benefit the grieving nationalists - the Alliance sought to stop them. Orys was no fool, he knew the truth was that the nationalist sentiment on the planet was either over infatuated in the media for access to the Core, or heavily cultivated by the ISB; but it was above and beyond his paygrade and rank.​

​

So instead, he stood on the bridge of the Cuirassier Cruiser with his hands tightly wound behind his back. Outside the view port the consignment of a million dead was beginning to play out - a cold war turned hot as Vice Admiral Voss and High Admiral Pryce began their opening salvos. Jaw set, his eyes dancing across the burgeoning battlefield before him, there was a sad beauty to any conflict like this. Of what was to come of it more than what was presented.​

​

"Reports coming in, Ashlan Fleet has arrived in the system - trajectory 84-90 by 30. Heading directly to the Drive Yards, Commodore.", Lieutenant Kitsuragi offered him from her sensor console.​

​

"Confirmed. I assume Voss is aware?"​

​

"Communications from the Imperatorus indicate so. Orders?"​

​

"Bring the fleet forward - if the Star Destroyers are being secured they will need some sort of escort. Deploy Bastion and Sunrise, I want a screen between us and what's coming."​

​

She confirmed the order, and Orys returned to watch the ships outside his bridge. His mind wandered back to the implications of it all - of another war. Was this to be how the New Order survived, off conflict and expansion? Were we any different than the Sith? Did he even care? In truth, he didn't; but the philosophy did.​

​

A shame he wouldn't have more time to consider it.​

 

[Jordi Massad]

2nd post
SCIMITAR
Objective 3: PEACE WALKER
COMPNOR

NIO: Kolson Vrask Don Belkora Rika Hiro
Karissa Saitel Iseri Tanaka

Interacting With: Nuruodo'kal'brast

Opposition: IVI CH3

Jordi's Loadout
Rucksack
Disruptor Pistol
Kandaran-Durasteel Switchblade
Garotte Wire
Camcorder
Wall-Piercing Vocoder
Burner Datapad
Surveillance-Camera Jammer
Cigarettes
X3 Bacta-Patches

Briefcase
High-Powered Slug Sniper-Rifle
Adjustable Bipod
X4 Ammunition Clips
Long-Distance Binoculars
Night-vision/Thermal Goggles
X8 Sticky-Charges
X8 Detonators

PART TWO

The Muntar Basement Pub, Dise Plaza,
Kuat City, Kuat (Summer of 874 ABY)

'Heh!'

A strong entrance.... That's how it's done, Dokal. Still impressing, even now.​

The kerfuffle and the traded insults hadn't escaped Massad's notice, overheard from within the Men's Room as he was washing his hands, giving his face a cold blast of water as it began to fizzle into calmness, with everyone's voices somewhat muffled by the walls of the room around him once more. Then, with hands and face dried and appearance maintained to the kempt standard it was when he first entered the basement pub for his second visit, Jordi would step out to see his contact (and soon to be his agency-colleague) sitting with drink in hand, cautiously scanning the room for signs of the Kandaran's presence as she enjoyed the beginnings of her first alcoholic beverages of the day. Scimitar had no trouble allowing vices for the likes of Pulsar, knowing how well she worked through anything that allowed her to delegate and blend in with the background of any environment, and though her entrance would've suggested otherwise, the necessity of holding her own in such scenarios wasn't lost on Massad either.

Stepping out to find that everyone was looking at Dokal in the same way they looked upon his visage in his first visit, Jordi sniggered to himself before exclaiming,'It's perfectly alright, trust me! She's the,"Operator", I spoke of vouching for, believe it or not!', with a cursory nod of respect given to the young Special-Forces operator as he spoke. The incredulous, the nonplussed, the unbelieving, all would either turn to look to the Kandaran with singular or both eyebrows raised, or keep their eyes firmly fixed on the Chiss sitting by the bar-counter, meeting both with mild outcries of disapproval or condemnation in the process. Railing against the majority, Massad boomed,'COMING TO TERMS, HM?!?! TOUGH LETTING IN THE FACT A YOUNGSTER MIGHT SHOW YOU ALL UP TODAY, AND A,"GYELL", AT THAT?!?!?!', as his eyes widened with wild, though momentary murderous intent towards all the local elements in the room.

'Definitely making a louder first impression than yours, Scimitar! What gives? This the usual brand of Imperial we're dealing with now? I fawkkin' hope not, buddy. Can't be doin' with the potential headaches such - hot-heads bring to the table.'

'Astaghfirullah, these cartels might be the death of me someday! I swear it!', the Kandaran growled to himself, trailing off as he took a seat two stools along from the one the Chiss' was settling into, ever holding to the role of faithful role of husband as he tried to simmer down with the calming atmosphere. Looking up to old Taro again, but with much less cruelty in his eye than was seen before, Massad finally found a temperament cool enough within himself to finally answer,'Look, I get it! Honestly, Taro. But you of all people should know that appearances can be deceptive, and in both our professions in particular.... And your bouncer certainly didn't help matters either, did he? NoOoOo is the answer you're looking for, and this is coming from someone who actually abides Marty now.', as calmly and kindly as could be mustered after what looked to be Jordi's second shouting-match allowed saner heads to prevail instead.

'Fine, but your vouch is being put to the test today - I hope you know this.... But I am all too happy to be proven wrong-'

'-Shut the fuck up, Taro! I'm also vouching for the young Chiss on this one.', Briis spoke up, taking his place on Jordi's side of the bar as his goons occupied the rest of the barstools in a show of intent. The Zabrak appeared eager to stand with the Imperials on whatever was to be endeavoured, also expressing his trust in that regard, registering with relief, a comfort in knowing there would be no such issues like reluctance, treachery or complacency in the Zabrak's involvement going forward, which was far more than could be said of the Clawdite brothers from last time. With goons behaving amiably and expressing quietly mumbled endearments on either side of the Chiss, Briis felt comfortable enough to conclude,'And besides, there's work to be done. Jordi laid out the plans perfectly, so now all we need to do is ready ourselves and get everything we need sent directly here.', without worrying about scuffles or disagreements getting in the way of his response.

'Alright, then off to the burners it is.... Get behind the bar until I get back, and please take actual payments this time. We all know it's a front, but that don't mean I need to serve you all drinks outta the kindness of my heart or nothin'; after all, I ain't filthy fawkkin' rich yet! YET!!!!'

With wordless vocalisations of irritated need for space to work, the scar-faced Zabrak waved off his Don with comical grace, then flipped up the corner segment's wooden waist-door cover that usually sat level with the bar-counter itself, stepping up to the old Half-Atrisian's usual spot at the station on the other side. At this point, Jordi took the opportunity to look across the bar to Dokal and say,'We'll get our chance to talk when we're on the move. You're taking the shotgun role for the transport-speeder anyways, so the work-related matters can wait for now.', before looking back to his empty glass to find that it had been replaced with a fresh drink in it's stead. Tasting it carefully, Massad quickly realised it to be another, better cordial variety before briefly turning to Briis to say,'Thanks, that was considerate.... I like this one better, to be honest.', receiving a single-handed thumbs up gesture in response before returning his gaze to Dokal's focused bright red stare.

'Might as well enjoy yourself a little, we'll be heading out within the hour anyway. There won't be many delights for some time after that, so I recommend snacking before we leave - plenty energies to burn off in the raids I've mapped out for us.'

 

[Zoraya Ives-Ayres]

COMPNOR
IMPERIAL SECURITY BUREAU
Objective: I love Jedi
Allies: NIO | Mattali Omenza
Enemies: GA | Sakadi Marathi Sinvala
Equipment: E-11 Blaster Rifle with Grappling Hook attachment, SE-14r Light Repeating Blaster, Vibroknife, Thermal Detonator, KXA ABDG-01x 'Null' Grenade, Wrist-mounted Personal Energy Shield, Commlink, IS-2 Medium Armour, Smoke Grenade

Vengeance is a monster of appetite, forever bloodthirsty and never filled.​

Sometimes she half-wished troopers would grow a spine and stand up for themselves. They only made it easier to undermine them when they allowed themselves to be trodden on by anyone with an ounce of authority. Then again, she would rather have fewer conversations with them at all, as expressed by her irritated tone when the engineer spoke to her in a seemingly flirtatious tone.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" She asked, voice filtered through the helmet. "Just do your job." She reiterated, taking no nonsense from the Zeltron. She hated those people. There was no skill in cheating your way to someone's affections through a chemical reaction.

Upon seeing the muzzle of a weapon when the door slid open, she reacted quickly, pulling a blaster and activating her personal shield in one swift movement before discharging a round into the exposed adversary while blocking the return fire from the other.

With a blaster bolt skimming past her head, she ducked behind cover, the small section of wall that separated the two compartments. Standing opposite the trooper, she still took the time to insult the other. "Are you incompetent?" She asked, incredulously.

Producing the smoke grenade from her belt, she pressed the button and threw it towards the remaining soldier and once the room was filled with smoke, she holstered her weapon and walked in with a powerful stride. Aided by her HUD, she approached the soldier and struggled with him for a moment over control of his weapon before forcefully pulling it out of his hands and slamming the end of it into his chin and then again hitting him with it across the face with such force that it knocked him unconscious.

Carelessly dropping the weapon on his body, she stepped over him and continued down the corridor until the smoke had dissipated and they neared their destination. She suddenly halted as a pang of warning in her untapped abilities warned her of an oncoming presence.

With no explanation, she pointed at the final door standing between them and their goal in the distance and spoke with a sense of urgency. "Open that door NOW." She told her companion. She had no idea how many people might be coming but she didn't want to get stuck in a corridor with no cover with them.

 

[Gillan Eru]

O B J E C T I V E- 2
K U A T -D R I V E- Y A R D S
Zoraya Ives-Ayres | Mattali Omenza ​

Unlike the docking stations, the lower levels of the Drive Yards weren't as much a warzone. The majority had been swiftly and efficiently secured by Alliance forces, or locked down by the Kuati themselves. The few areas that were still deemed unsafe due to the Secessionists were isolated by blast doors and improvised barricades. He felt fortunate to be assigned to the lower levels. Because despite the danger this situation brought, he couldn't help but feel safe.

A comforting thought that quickly left him upon seeing the thick blanket of smoke ahead.

Gillan broke into a sprint, his thumb hovering over the activation switch of his lightsaber. There were figures moving through the smoke - quickly crossing to the other side of the corridor. Were they after the same objective?
"Hey!" He shouted when there was less than forty meters between them. "Stand down!" They weren't with the Alliance. Of that much he was certain. But was that alone enough of a basis to engage?

 

[Kalie Alverez]

Prefsbelt Commander​

“My mother has always enjoyed the intricacies of galactic power struggles.” Kalie scoffed rather flatly, her tears instantly drying up as she then let out a tired laugh at the complete ridiculousness of what she had just presented to her interrogator. She found it amusing… however… the prospects of what was soon to come? Less amusing indeed.

She had made her point fairly clear however… she intended to give no meaningful information to the interrogator. But as he brought up the uniqueness of her demeanor in the previous altercation, her smirk faded rather quickly. It was true. What kind of monster was she, and who had done this to her? These were the questions that plagued her mind.

She had just as many answers, it seemed, As her captors did.

As the man conceded that she was not being very cooperative, she gritted her teeth as he beckoned her soon-to-be-torturers into the room. She closed her eyes again, starting to hum a melody to a song as they approached her, bearing sabers and a collar.

Fabulous.

As the man revealed that she was the true source of their captivation, Kalie sighed. It seemed that she was correct in her assessment... They were just as curious as she was regarding what had happened to her. But as he began to make remarks about her having no concept of motherhood, her eyes opened as she stared blankly at the man, listening intently to every word that escaped his lips. The more he spoke, the more concern and fear grew inside of her… his mention of her never being able to be pregnant… of raising children… She felt a chilling sensation spread across her consciousness as his words began to fill in the missing pieces…

She was not human.

That’s what he was saying. She couldn’t stop the tears as they began to stream down her face at the very thought. Just the possibility that she would never have the opportunity to be a mother was truly devastating to the girl. The facade was gone as her very real fears and emotions surfaced, a look of grief slowly maturing on her face. Was her entire reality a lie? Was she a machine? In many ways, she felt like she already knew the answer. It made sense in some twisted and convoluted way. She winced as the collar was forced around her neck and snapped into place. Kalie blinked repeatedly, trying to prepare herself for whatever revelation was about to befall her. She wanted to know the truth. She wanted to know what she was. If she was a droid… she needed to know for herself.

As he continued to speak, probing as to whether her memories and emotions were, in fact, real or fiction, she cleared her throat in an attempt to restrain her fears… whether they were real or not, they seemed real enough in this moment. She looked intently at her interrogator as he questioned everything about her, her eyes registering with the sentiment he was sharing. As he mentioned her friendships, her mind instantly flashed to Valery Noble … Lyrrin … Gramani Fey’la … Isla Draellix-Kobitana … Her eyes fluttered with the horrifying thought that none of it was real.

She was jolted from her swirl of thoughts as a saber ignited with a sharp hiss right next to her. Andreas told her that this was not torture… that this was a pursuit of truth… for both of them….

"You and me Kalie," Andreas leaned back in the seat, "We are going to find out who you really are."

Kalie pulled her gaze back to the man, a solemn resolution on her face. She paused for a moment, then leaned her head back against the cold metal collar on her neck, letting out a slow sigh. It was apparent that she was not opposed to what was about to happen to her.

“Isn’t it customary to offer a girl a smoke before you cut off her hand?” She suggested in a lower and calmer tone than before. Whether or not he obliged her request, she would ultimately nod and close her eyes, gritting her teeth tightly…

“Do it…”

 

[Mattali Omenza]

Objective 2

Location: Kuat Central Space Traffic Systems
Gear:
Storm Armor Mk. IV
REC Scatter Gun
REC-DC/04 Particle Blaster Pistol

Tags: Zoraya Ives-Ayres Gillan Eru

Well, wasn’t this just peachy. “Well, it’s hilarious actually, but I imagine that restraining bolt you got tucked up there might be the problem.” Stuck up schutta. Well now she was just going to be annoying. Making jokes wasn’t against regulations, Mirinda had checked that several times over, so worst that the ISB girl could do was kill her. Either way, her mom was covered.

Taking cover, Mirinda watched as the woman quickly shot down the two guards, and began berating her over her actions. “Is that a trick question?” She asked, gripping her scatter gun as she peaked through the door at the two smoldering bodies in the room. Stepping towards the door, Zoraya began flipping out over the door, and Mirinda had to roll her eyes. This girl needed a date badly. “Pretty please goes a long way you know. Little piece of advice.” Mirinda responded, her sarcasm tainted by the distortion of her helmet.

Pulling up her slicing tools, she began to tap into the door, working her way through the security once again. She was just doing the last input when she could have sworn she heard a voice from behind her. Unsure what was occurring, she turned her head back, and saw a figure holding a glowing blade. Ah feth. Well, there was only one thing to do, improvise. Pointing to the man, then tapping the side of her helmet, she shouted to him. “Hey, buddy, we can’t hear you!” Hopefully that would waste his time. Turning back to the door, Mirinda went back to her work. She decided opening the door in front of them would just prompt the Jedi to come a running, so it was best to just lock him out first then get a move on. “Hey, pretty princess, I can lock him out, just keep him talking.” Going back into the system, she began trying to shut the door behind them.

She didn’t feel like fighting with a Jedi when she was considering throwing hands with the person in charge of her as well.

 

[Zoraya Ives-Ayres]

COMPNOR
IMPERIAL SECURITY BUREAU
Objective: I love Jedi
Allies: NIO | Mattali Omenza
Enemies: GA | Sakadi Marathi Sinvala
Equipment: E-11 Blaster Rifle with Grappling Hook attachment, SE-14r Light Repeating Blaster, Vibroknife, Thermal Detonator, KXA ABDG-01x 'Null' Grenade, Wrist-mounted Personal Energy Shield, Commlink, IS-2 Medium Armour

Vengeance is a monster of appetite, forever bloodthirsty and never filled.
​

For the large part, she ignored the remarks made by the engineer. She didn't care about if she hurt the other's feelings. If she just did her job and stopped being overly-sassy then she would've been less of a target for the agent. "Quickly!" She replied, again with urgency, allowing the other to walk ahead while she stayed further behind.

Anticipating company, she drew both blasters and aimed them in the direction they had just come from. Sure enough, a silhouette appeared from the smoke and began approaching them with a lightsaber drawn and a call to stand down, prompting a frustrated sigh from the Imperial.

With a glance over her shoulder to acknowledge Mirinda, she used her HUD to take a closer look at the Jedi. Seeing that he was quite young, she immediately switched demeanour, hoping to capitalise off of his inexperience.

She holstered both weapons and held her empty hands up as a sign of peace as she slowly began approaching him, careful not to pass the threshold. "Hey! Alright, alright." She feigned conceding. "No one has to get hurt." She told him, her tone gentle and careful. "What's your name?" She asked, trying to stall.

 

[Liedran Kathause]

SITREP: FUBAR
[3rd Expeditionary Carrier Line]
[ANV Cadence - Internalized C.I.C]
[Alliance Friendlies: Dracken Pryce , Kathryn Foster, Valery Noble , Sylix ]
[SJO Allies: Sol'yan , Finley Dawson ]
[Imperial Baddies: Albrecht F. Herlock , Hiram Voss , ]
[Ashlan Friendly(?): Isla Draellix-Kobitana ]
[This is going to be fun. And sorry if I missed anyone]​

With greater intensity as the battle raged, plasma-coated slugs shot out from the Cadence's flank, weaving a blinding barrage of turbolaser fire within the field of battle. Long ago had less-extreme deterrence been considered; and that was prior to when the detonation aboard the docked star destroyer and the Imperials' apparent aggression was revealed for all to see. It didn't help that she couldn't get a karking channel open to anyone else in the combined Alliance task force without a short-range direct communications beam. It seemed quite fair to attribute that to NIO communication jamming.

"Get me a lock on whatever ship's jamming our communications. Alert the Sacheens to train their mass drivers," Liedran said with a bitter scowl on her face. The sooner they could bring down the disruption, the sooner she could send a query on the whole damn situation back to Strategic Command, "And put our comms teams to work on that. If we can't disable it, we'll try our best to bypass..."

"Roger that." There was a peculiar, bewildered pause on the part of the comms chief, then, "Ma'am- we've got signatures emerging off our far aft. Few hundred klicked away- it's the Ashlan Crusade."

"What do they want?" she asked, teeth pressing against her lower lip and oozing with nervousness-- and lingering rage. The Ashlans had sure picked an... interesting time to roll down the red carpet.

"Don't know, ma'am. We're still being jammed."

"-They don't look like they're about to make any offensive action, ma'am. Not against us, at least," another officer interrupted, and wobbled toward the side when a shell splattered against the Cadence's shields.

Liedran's brows knitted in deliberation, eyes simultaneously flickering between the cluttered viewscreens and barely more legible tactical plot. She already had the Imperial Navy pressing down on her formation-- was there even time to inquire on the purposes of the Ashlan commander? "They're not hurting us right now, aren't they? Keep an eye on them. And send out a direct beam to their lead ship; advise the commander to come back at a better time if they don't intend to assist us." She almost laughed at the dryness of her own statement, but it'd have to do. "How are we going with tracking the jamming vessel?" the nervousness returned to grace her voice, a slight tonal crack opening on the occasional syllable.

"Almost..." the chief's fingers clattered hurriedly against the keys of her console. "Got it! Marking the target on tactical plots," the officer exchanged a quick glance with another, and a new light blinked on the holographic display. Liedran followed it with bitter intrigue; the flash of red indicated a battlecruiser situated comfortable within the Imperial formation-- a rather difficult target to bring down, but a valuable one to keep in mind nonetheless.

"We're positive?" She kept her eyes locked to the Imperatores Pax's blade-like frame, drawn away only by a slight, confirming nod from the comms chief. So be it. "Open up direct beams. Have Nova, Overture, Sonata, and Ranger set a lock with mass drivers-- converge fire on a single point at that dreadnought's bow." A brief pause, then, "Alert Dauntless too, have her train her own mass drivers around the vessel's profile. Maintain distance, I don't want anyone advancing yet."

The maps began to change-- further. While the four Sacheen frigates and Scythe-class Battle Cruiser that comprised the 3rd Expeditionary's vanguard fired their RCS thrusters until a collective 10 mass driver barrels locked on the Imperatores Pax, the latter simultaneously fired off its first salvos into the frame of the Corellian flagship-- Dracken Pryce 's Kyprin Renegade. The commodore's heart thumped a beat faster; the Pax had been almost entirely non-combative until then-- why now decide to open fire? "Tactical! How are we going with those locks?!" she inquired to the C.I.C quite a bit louder than she'd planned.

"Vanguard just reported a successful target lock. Ready to fire on your command."

At that, she simply nodded her confirmation, and directed her eyes to the viewscreen as metal slugs erupted into the fray, trailing past the salvos of exchanged turbolaser fire and disapearing as they converged on the distant shape of the Imperatores Pax. Before the bitter anticipation could delay from any of her other concerns, however, the commodore reverted her gaze to the tac-map. "Keep Dauntless ready for another salvo. But reorient our frigates to maintain screening effectiveness." She'd settle for keeping the Pax under control with a single cruiser, but the larger issue of the rest of the Imperial fleet remained. The Sacheens would be best kept in position to fend off any advance. And sure enough, when the four frigates made the requested adjustments to their positions, they caught sight of Orys Draste 's task force as it made its first few footsteps in the direction of the ring.

And even then, another concern beckoned the commodore's consideration. "Comms?" she asked simply, fully aware that her staff would understand.

"Got broadcast communication back online-- it looks like the Imperials took down their jamming." So, it appeared they wouldn't need to continue to try to bypass the interference. That was one less thing to worry about.

"Patch me in with Admiral Pryce. And relay the situation logs back to Strategic Command while you're at it."

 

[Gillan Eru]

O B J E C T I V E- 2
K U A T -D R I V E- Y A R D S
Zoraya Ives-Ayres | Mattali Omenza ​

He slowed down a little.

"What?" Gillan blinked in quick succession. There was no way the female stormtrooper hadn't heard him. And yet, he gave in. "You heard me! I said stand down!" He shifted to a low guard, and continued his advance. While lightsaber combat wasn't his forte, deflecting blasterfire was something he could manage. If it came down to it, he was confident that he could take the two of them in a fight.

The other woman, however, gave him the faint hope that it wouldn't have to turn a fight. The smoke still lingered in the corridor, not dissipating fast enough to make out more than their crude details. So did they really expect him to trust them on their word alone?

"Then drop your weapons." He demanded. If travelling with Ara had taught him one thing, it was not to trust others at face value. "And uhh, your helmets too." He closed the distance between them fast, reducing it to 15 meters with a steady stride.

 

[Hal Vaiken]

S A R G E
INSIDE THE SHIPYARDS
501st LEGION, IMPERIAL SPECIAL FORCES
SCAR SQUADRON

Objectives:

• Secure the ISD Tempest
• Slave circuit all hyperspace capable Imperial docked ships to NIV Imperatores Pax through ISD Tempest
  

All Sarge could do was provide covering fire to the rushing Knight and SCAR brute. The loud sound of the TL-50 repeater bounced off the durasteel walls and disappeared into the cacophony of chaos. He didn't bother noting if his hits found their targets, only that they didn't land on the backs of Mauler and Draco.

:: Sarge, think we figured our way to get on the Tempest. We're gonna hijack one of those repair crew shuttles from the supply station. :: Hoax's voice echoed through his helmet.

:: But...? ::

:: But, uh, we've got a bit of a mess here to clean up first. Looks like half of the KSF has flipped to the Birdies. Seems like the Guillotine's missed a few heads. ::

The SCAR commander licked his lips sourly. COMPNOR sure loved to exaggerate. He'd come to learn that the hard way and if the rumors from Centares were true then they only further proved that.

:: Get to the shuttle asap, doing the infantry's job is not your responsibility. ::

:: Never is but always ends up being. Roger that, Sarge. Hoax out. ::

"We moving, Sarge?"

Reloading the repeater, Hal looked up towards the rushing duo's impact point. The incoming red bolts substantially decreased, their red replaced by the splattered crimson of the birdies' blood across the carefully polished walls of the shipyards. The stormtrooper platoon was already moving up to secure the blockade Mauler and Draco had cleared.

"Don't need to ask me twice." he replied before darting ahead to rendezvous with the rest of his unit. He slowed his pace to a walk scanning the area. A hand of a marine jittered beneath his feet and Sarge double-tapped the survivor. A merciful death the pretentious prick didn't deserve. He sized her sprawled out body and briefly froze when his eyes fell on her bloodied face, her helmet had tumbled away. The name escaped him as they always did but the face didn't. He never forgot faces. Before he had undergone training at the Tavlar Special Forces School, Sarge had been one of the countless 501st stormtroopers. And one of the few that had made it out alive from the hell that was Ziost.

The birdie, it seemed, had flown off from Ziost too. Only to get mauled to death by a half-mute barbarian over a planet that no longer wanted to be part of the Feds. Pityful, really.

"Once you bled 'gainst the Sith... only to bleed out for some overreach from Coruscant." he murmured to himself, "Rather retire on Troska than die this way."

Shaking away the pang of disappointment and frustration over a former comrade's demise he didn't want to admit, Sarge approached the stormtrooper platoon commander issuing orders to his unit to get the massive door open. The last obstacle before they reached the repair bay.

"Sitrep, Lieutenant."

"Our third platoon's pinned down up ahead in the repair bay. The birdie fuckers came out from the right and split us apart." he angrily jerked his head at the door opposite of the one they were trying to open. "They rigged the gate locked down and got entrenched here before you guys came here. I assume they wanted to get the third slaughtered by the marines deploying from the northern side."

"What company are you, fellas?"

"Second platoon of the 11th, Sir."

"The 11th." Sarge repeated. He should've guessed by the lieutenant's youthful voice. The 11th of the 501st were all but decimated during the Crisis on Generis. These were all greenies, they... "...won't survive if we're stuck here any longer." He didn't need to look at all to find his solution. The sound of something hitting the wall pedantically every one second was enough to find Mauler slamming a marine to death. Back and forth, back and forth. The body smashed against the wall. Pieces of armor plast cracking and falling off the shattered body.

"Mauler! Think you're finished? Get this damn gate open." he didn't need to tell the rest of the troopers to move back a safe distance. "Lieutenant, get your men to mine that other door--" he nodded at the opposite door from where the now perished marines had first arrived, "Set two squads to keep our rear safe - we need to get to the ISD without looking over our shoulders. This ground must hold."

The affirmative came back and soldiers of the second platoon scurried away to set up a rearguard just as the Mauler finished his task with the door. It imploded along with its frame but not enough to disrupt the structural integrity of the walls and suck them all out into the cold of space. Suddenly, blaster fire pierced the smokey haze from the other side before a grizzled cry ripped the air, "FRIENDLIES!!!!!! HOLD YOUR FIRE DAMN IT!!"

The sergeant chuckled at the situation as he shuffled out from cover, slinging his repeater back over his shoulder. The third platoon was literally cornered returning fire back to the encroaching marine forces surging from the northern connector who were still just around the corner from where they were. The stormtroopers had hastily, by its looks, formed a redoubt of their own. Better late than never. Numerous stormtroopers of the third platoon lied sacrificed on the floor. Would've been much more if it weren't for their veteran lieutenant, Sarge reckoned. The marines really did a number on them, didn't they?

But these were no mud-eating army troopers or worse - a governorate Handicap. A stormtrooper would break before he bent.

The three SCAR troopers and Knight hurried behind the makeshift palisade of hardened supply crates and flipped hovercrafts to the third platoon's lieutenant.

"We weren't expecting Special Forces."

"That's the point, Lieutenant."

"Well... I'll be damn glad to see SCAR here. Lieutenant Tarkal gave you the sitrep, I'd assume--" he tugged his head at the younger officer from the second platoon who came up to the group a moment later, "--told you to keep tight behind us, kid." he shook his head, then sighed, "Don't matter now, though. I'm Lieutenant Obrim of the 11th's third. The Birdies are pouring from the north, we pushed earlier then had to fall back when they split us from the second. Repair bay's still contested as you can see." he gestured at the firefight going on about within the massive bay, "But we wouldn't have held any further. Half the damn KSF with us turned on their buds in our midst."

"Yeah, we heard it's happening across the whole yards."

"They're a bunch of limps the lot of them Kuatis. Except those with the pauldrons - they call themselves the Patriots. Lord-Regent's guys. They'd cut a head off with a spoon if he told them."

"Good. We're gonna need lots of canon fodder to get to the Tempest. Best it not be Imperials in the meat grinder."

"... bit too late for that, Sir." Tarkal chimed in from the side and Sarge glanced back at him.

"Better late than never, kid." his attention moved back on the battle for the repair bay ahead, scanning all the intricacies of the area before a plan was formulated in his head.

"Alright, here's how this is going to go down--" he glanced at both lieutenants, "you all got your magboots locked, right?" both nodded, "Good. Get the Patriots to go Gladius--"

"Charge straight-up melee, Sir?" Tarkal's voice jittered in surprise.

"Yeah - your troopers stay back and provide suppressive fire. All you've got - we've got no collateral to pay after we're done here. SCAR--" he turned to his squadron, "--we're getting to the Tempest, Vice-Admiral Voss' orders." they had all seen the order feedback flow down their HUDs by now, "Double diversions to get us through; one - the Patriots' charge; two - Reaper, on my signal you'll get the force field's controls fried with a shot from distance. Mauler, Colonel - you'll take lead point we're moving in pairs. Reaper and I will trail. Ten meters apart. Y'all better have recharged your repulsors."

Lieutenant Obrim nodded and relayed the order to the Patriots. They didn't need much convincing. A minute later, the Patriots surged from their positions of cover in a mad bayonet charge towards the Marines with roars piercing the plasma marred air, "SEVEN LIVES FOR KUAT!!!"

The 501st sprayed suppressive fire, their green experience and disregard for all that was not Imperial made a target of both Marines and Patriots. Before Reaper and Sarge would rush forward following Draco and Mauler's lead, he'd grab her by the arm, "Make that shot count, Lily."

SCAR SQUADRON: Atticus Draco | Kelinna Tryn | Volgin Alto | Hiram Voss
WAR HOGS: Traden Avarice | Monos | Phaineve Halseigh | Zav Traros | Keiran Varn @IKYOUHAVEMOREPEOPLE

 

[Prefsbelt Commander]

The Inquisitor

Special Agent Andreas Beckett.
NIV Imperatores Pax
Kalie Alverez

​

Andreas watched her with some curiosity as she seemed to relax, and sift into a new persona. She seemed resigned now. Resigned to this. He looked down, and then shook his head. It was almost sad really. She clearly had some apprehensions about her own self. Her own being. And Andreas had broken her. He had broken others before. Small time smugglers. A pirate or a spice trafficker. But this, this felt, different. It hit different too. And as Kalie made her request, he snorted. And then paused, eyes resting on her. He regarded her softly. Almost sympathetically.

"You know, you really got me at a bad time." Beckett offered with a wry smile, "I just quit. Third time's the charm eh?" He looked to the Stossjaegers. "Any of you have a cigarette?" He looked at them, the soldiers seemed incredulous. There was a pause, as if waiting for some punch line. "Come on now. What she's going through right now, it's seriously the least we can do." The lightsaber armed soldier, disabled the blade, and rifled through her utility belt. Retrieving a pack of Prefsbelt Command stamped cigarettes. "Thank you trooper." She threw them, and a lighter to Andreas, who caught both squarely. Andreas retrieved a cigarette, and lit it. Before lighting another, and circling the table.

"Look, I'll oblige you this," He fed the cigarette into her mouth, "But I can't, look, you gotta understand, I can't let you just, be free." He sat to her side, he let her take a long deep drag, before removing the cigarette, and taking a puff of his own. "Fuck me..." Andreas groaned, blowing out smoke, "Makes me want to start up again, all over." He sighed, and turned to the Stossjaeger, while he gave Kalie another puff. Andreas moved and pushed the table back, shuffling some of the effects on it, before sitting down. Eye to eye with the SIA agent. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way." Andreas mused quietly, "It must be, traumatic, I imagine. To say the least." He took another drag, and then took the cigarette from her mouth, allowing Kalie another breathe. "But you should remember, it wasn't me, who did this." He looked to the Stossjaegers, "It wasn't them. It wasn't Rurik Fel. It was them. The Alliance. M." He put the cigarette back in, letting Kalie have another drag.

Andreas gave a nod, and within an instant, the lightsaber ignited, and sliced through Kalie's right hand. It dropped to the floor with a thud. Smoke rose from her arm, and hand, obscuring it as the lightsaber hissed. Disabled. The Stossjaeger behind her let go of the collar, and Andreas leaned down, cigarette in his mouth. He cleaved the hand off the floor, and examined it. Picking it up delicately by her pinkie, and that's when he saw it. The glint, of metal. "Seems Miss Alverez, we're both right." Andreas mused, eyeing it, he then dangled it in front of Kalie's face, letting her have a good, confirmatorary look. It was true. She wasn't real.

"Private Mor'Shah, could you get this to Technical Officer Carreda for analysis?" The Stossjaeger stood to attention, and snatched the hand, before exiting. "I don't think your presence here is entirely warranted Major Hess." Andreas mused, looking to the senior officer, "I think what's best now, is that, we leave Miss Alverez to her thoughts." Andreas looked down, and Hess nodded. Departing, while Beckett seemed to stare at his shoes. "Look, I have to be in here with you. As supervising agent." He looked up at her, "I would totally understand, if you wouldn't want me to. But, given what has just transpired, I suppose I'm.... I'm here. If you need to talk."