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

[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
  

"We got a job to do, Sarge. Let's go!"

She was right. They were being stalled by the emergence of an unmarked assailant that kept them pinned behind cover while the docking bay seemed to drift further and further away. The staff sergeant hoped Lily had melted the little bugger but another salvo of shots from their behind forcing them to relocate to cover and sit still proved otherwise. Sweat broke down his brow, the blistering heat of the bolt that had pierced the back of his armor still sizzling on his flesh.

"Damn it." he muttered to himself before opening a line to Hoax, :: Tell me you're inside. ::

:: Breaching, Sir. :: came Hoax's reply through the line.

:: The bad news, Hoax? ::

:: Too hot to breach closer to the bridge, Sir. There's a million TIEs and Wings out here. ::

A silent sigh escaped Sarge's lips, :: Get to the bridge. Stat. Slave the rest of the docked ships and get this damn SD firing on the shipyards. Full broadside. ::

:: Sarge? ::

:: That's an order, soldier. ::

:: Yes, sir. ::

Consequences be damned. Wouldn't be the first time they had to face a critical snob from high command.

Faceless helmet turned to Reaper, "Line up your shot and fire - get that forcefield down. I'll cover." without another word back, Sarge sprung up from cover and sprayed with fire the diminutive alien on their tail. A whole mag, let it rip.

SCAR SQUADRON: Atticus Draco | Lily Stevens | Volgin Alto | Hiram Voss
WAR HOGS: Traden Avarice | Monos | Phaineve Halseigh | Zav Traros | Keiran Varn

 

[Monos]

SITREP: FUBAR
Fighting in the Repair Bay, behind enemy lines.

​

Act III.

Engaging: Hal Vaiken Lily Stevens

SCAR SQUADRON: Volgin Alto Atticus Draco
WARHOGS: Phaineve Halseigh Traden Avarice Keiran Varn Zav Traros

Equipment in bio.
2/3 Smoke Grenades remain.
​

TLDR Mox is hit by Lily Stevens' superheated slug, depleting his energy shield. Mox takes out two stormtroopers who try to apprehend him, and then scurries away underground to intercept Hal and Lily.​

It was only a matter of time. Troopers were swarming the bay. The situation had completely spiraled out of control.

In fact, he considered himself lucky to have avoided apprehension – or death – for so long. Following his previous bursts of fire, the small Anzellan heaved for air behind the cover of some random crates strewn around the bay. He didn't hit his targets, but at least limited the general visibility in the area by shooting out two light sources on the ceiling. He spat on the ground and sniffed loudly into the air, clutching his rifle close to his heart, yearning desperately for a warm embrace that never came. He was completely alone. The familiar, crawling feeling of fear began to set in, now that he was pinned down, unable to slip or fly away. The inevitable moment had come. Two intimidating Imperial Stormtroopers have tracked him down, advancing fast with their rifles trained on him. – DROP YOUR WEAPON! – They shouted, and so Mox did what they asked. The many gadgets hanging from his belts jangled as he slowly lowered his weapon, placing it gently on the ground. And then…
​

​

The deafening whoop of an enormous electric discharge rolled over the bay following the bright green flash of his personal energy shield being brutally fried and depleted. The sniper on the other side of the bay had indeed hit the Anzellan, and the explosive slug completely destroyed Mox's primary protection against blaster fire. The tiny creature was violently flung forward by the impact force, landing and sliding between the two soldiers, who themselves recoiled from the blinding flash. The limp body of the Anzellan rolled a couple of times, then stopped, with his body lying face-down on the cold, hard durasteel floor. Nothing. No movements, no signs of life.

The two troopers exchanged a couple of confused looks and spent the next few seconds piecing together what just happened. Relaxing the grip on their weapons, but staying vigilant, they stepped closer to the motionless body of the assassin. Thud. Thud. Thud. Their steps reverberated within the metal floor, and just as the first trooper knelt down to check on the curious creature below them, something happened.
​

"Warhogs- Ladybird. I'm aboard. Approaching CIC. Start pressing toward my position at earliest opportunity,"

Years and years of savagely forged skills shone in that moment. What followed looked so absurdly natural, that it almost seemed like a rehearsed dance between the three. The whole thing went down so fast that the finer details have since been lost to time. All the nearby witnesses could report was this; the unassuming assassin's unconscious state was undoubtedly a ruse. Although true, his shield was indeed fried, but his limbs were quick as ever. Mox grabbed a hold of the kneeling trooper's outstretched arm, tugging on it with all he's got, spinning his body upward and quickly finding himself around the trooper's neck. A single, lightning-fast slash with his poisoned stiletto at the frightened soldier's armpit, and he was already moving on. The nimble operative's grappling hook exploded out of its forearm-mounted housing and with a routine flail of his arm he made it wrap around the second Stormtrooper's neck. The fluid sequence of actions performed by the diminutive assassin completely baffled the two troopers, an effect he had been viciously trained to exploit. Mox jumped from the first one's shoulder, reeling himself toward the other, who at this point barely registered what was happening. The Anzellan came to a halt upon the second trooper's shoulder, whose fist barely missed the small creature. He would not get a second chance. Again, with his laser-sharp stiletto Mox stabbed the neck of the trooper. And stabbed. Again, and again, and again, until his entire right arm was drenched in blood. By the time the second trooper collapsed and Mox hopped down from his shoulder, the first trooper had already fallen on his knees, tearing off his helmet and spewing forth his hemorrhaging insides. The emetic poison that he had previously coated his blade with was fast-acting and uncompromising. The soldier will live, but will likely require medical attention for quite a while. His comrade, however, not so much. Mox's radio once again crackled to life. A foreboding feeling washed over Mox.
​

"Warhogs- Ladybird. I've got company..."

Deeming it needless to shed further blood, Mox simply picked up his blaster rifle from the ground, and with a puff of his jetpack decided to retreat underground, since he was no longer protected by a wall of energy. The Imperial Commander's bolts whizzed by him as he descended, almost ending his life then and there. The tiny creature slid down the narrow hole he had erupted from before, smashing a fist into the big red button on the wall to close each section barrier behind him as he made his way toward the prize of the Imperials. The Imperial Star Destroyer, just ahead. He clicked the commlink in his ear to report back on the Warhogs' channel. – Somebody help Ladybird! – His utterance interrupted by gasps after each syllable. – I believe… – He coughed twice. – I believe they want Star Destroyer. I believe they … want to take it. Making my way to cut them, off… underground.

Mox ran along the ducts, toward the Star Destroyer, continuing to close each barrier behind him, should a stray grenade find its way down the vents, or anything. He could not be too careful, now that he was without an energy shield...​

 

[Zav Traros]

Objective 2: Sitrep:Fubar​

Engaging: Volgin Alto
Opposition: Hal Vaiken Lily Stevens Atticus Draco
War Hogs: Monos Traden Avarice Phaineve Halseigh Keiran Varn

---

No battle plan survives contact with the enemy.

His fist bounced of the trooper's helmet, harming only himself and serving as little more than an expression of the rebel's rage. With the carbine out of reach and unservicable, Zav was armed only with the primed grenade clenched within his grasp. Volgin was without a weapon, but he needed an equalizer far less than Zav. The Mauler held the advantage of raw physical strength, putting it to use to shove Zav onto the floor and wrest control of the fight.

In short order, their positions had been reversed and Volgin's might was on full display with a fist that threatened to place a crater in his skull. At least he was on his back, facing the life-threatening strike his opponent had prepared. With little recourse, Zav could do little but express further rage, his fist cocked his fist back to punch the trooper again. As useless as the display would be, if he was to die he would do so fighting.

They both would, as the ticking flash of the grenade's timer promised. A promise that caught the attention of Volgin too, causing him to pause his action. By the time Zav had notice he had thrown his punch, to as little effect as the first. It did nothing to deter Volgin from taking control of his other arm and laying atop it; the slam of his armour against the grenade in hand, fracturing bone and arming the grenade.

Volgin kept his position atop it. He must have had an awful lot of faith in his armour. It was a bet Zav didn't care to check, with his life as part of the wager. Volgin had control of his arm, but Zav had the battered carbine at his feet. As the timer ticked down on the grenade's fuse, the rebel kicked the mangled blaster towards him with a foot while he reached desperately for it with his bruised, free hand. Grasping the barrel, he swung it in an arc against the trooper's helmet once more as the grenade ticked down to its final second. He then braced himself for the blast that would follow.

"Warhogs- Ladybird. I'm aboard. Approaching CIC. Start pressing toward my position at earliest opportunity,"

Phaineve's call for repositioning would be heard, but given Zav's predicament he'd give not answer, as the battle raged on and the grenade set to detonate...

 

[Volgin Alto]

M A U L E R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION
SCAR SQUADRON
Armor [Modified] | Heavy Repeater | Pistol
NIO | Hal Vaiken | Atticus Draco | Lily Stevens
GA | Traden Avarice | Monos | Phaineve Halseigh | Zav Traros | Keiran Varn

Not a second after the carbine slammed against Volgin's battered helmet, the sticky grenade sounded its last passing tick before detonating in Zav's hand and beneath Volgin's armored abdomen. He screwed his eyes shut in anticipation for the blast before it enveloped his form with a caustic fury, the explosion punching a gruesome dent in the chestplate of his armor but the backside surviving well enough from any intensive warping to save him from any fatal damage as a result of the blast.

But even still, to save his body from the shock or whiplash from the explosive blast- its impact incapacitated the Mantellian brute, leaving his body limp against the ground. For the first time in his warfighting career- Volgin had been brought out of commission on the field of battle. To this point- he had been a man deemed invincible, unkillable and unyielding. By the hands of Zav Traros, a wretched, lowly rebel scum- he'd lapped the bitter taste of defeat.

Were he conscious enough to stomach the realization he might've been far more pitted with a boiling rage but moments later, a 501st Medic accompanied by another trooper managed to pull him from immediate danger as his lifeform signature barely managed a consistent beat on the scanners. Alive, but barely- he was pulled from the fight. It was up to the rest of SCAR now to do what need be done without the Mauler in the mix.

 

[Karissa Saitel]

https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/916099948024565781/929705073519493140/Kuat_3.jpg

OBJECTIVE: PEACEWALKER
CODENAME: SHIV
IMPERIAL SECURITY BUREAU
EQUIPMENT: SBG-01x Bodyglove | civilian clothes | ACS-208 Wrist Ion Beamer |
BH-Specter Slicer Vibroknife | BH-Durin Charric Blaster Pistol

NIO | Jordi Massad | Don Belkora | Rika Hiro | Kolson Vrask
RA/GA | CH3 | IVI | Bernard of Arca | Ishida Ashina

​

The armed worker droid easily took down the door to the team's hideout. Had Grunge and the team been able to evacuate? The chatter over her comm was limited, but the few tidbits coming through and the sound of chaos erupting outside suggested the hit had been attempted, but not confirmed. She stayed on her current task, ensuring the commandos' could complete their mission. The droid entered the flat, and Karissa trailed after.

The Lorrdian operative heard the mechanical voice declare an all clear, indication the Storm Commandos were gone. Agent Saitel sighed in relief, then quickly mulled over her next move. If the team was away, there was no need to confront the droid, and compromise her cover. But the droid was not what it seemed, having personally accompanied Elane. It was highly likely it was part of the rebels, and therefore a potential threat. She inched closer, ion beamer raised, hearing the whir of mechanical servos and clicks of mechanisms as it surveyed the room. She finally caught sight of it. And it her.

While the weapon was unseen, Karissa knew the monocular droid had entered with the carbine. Its innocuous comment about making a delivery was so absurd that Karissa wondered if the machine was being sarcastic, or maybe taunting her. Resisting a witty retort, the ISB agent fired the wrist ion beamer at the droid, knowing if it failed, the droid's blaster would answer.

 

[Rika Hiro]

Asa Yubari|Kuat|The End
C O M P N O R
Tags:// Don Belkora Jordi Massad Hal Vaiken Karissa Saitel Iseri Tanaka CH3 Bernard of Arca Ishida Ashina Kolson Vrask

The human senses were limited and pathetic even. Vastly outclassed by their animal counterparts, the human being was a sitting duck when deprived of the basic senses such as sight or sound. And in the dense fog of Kuat, the rebels were but hapless victims to the replicants hands. She was finding them one by one in the mist, their frantic breathing and the lights on the end of their guns giving away their position to the Atrisian who picked them off at will as the Replicant edged closer to the crash.

"Where the hell did she go? I thought I saw her in the distance," she heard a frantic voice cry out, zeroing in on the two distinct forms of rebel fighters backed up together, firing aimlessly around them. A sharp cry of agony rang out as their hapless shots struck down one of their own men, while equally, confused blaster fire shot back at the two taking them out. She kept low among the confusion, treading silently as she observed the rebels friendly fire each other and lose themselves in the fog. A soldier appeared up ahead, wiping his brow with sweat and frantically trying to radio for backup as the black form of Yubari closed in on him. Her blade found purchase in the man's soft belly, causing him to squeal in agony as the Replicant twisted deep. His blue eyes beamed harm, and he would have fought back if he could, the Replicant mused. Instead, the rebel was forced to stand there as his own guts spilt out on the tile. Yubari twitched violently and slowly brought the knife sideways just a tiny bit at the time, which was enough to surpass the man's pain threshold. He emitted a strangled sound, and she knew he was choking on his own blood. His struggling flailed to a standstill, and she let the man idly flop to the ground. Asa stepped over the mans bloodied corpse, kneeling down beside it to pick up the commlink from his hands as she raised it up to her lips and used her vocoder to imitate the man's voice.

"S-en..d help-."

She placed the commlink in the man's bloodied hand and pulled out a timed grenade from her belt, putting it under the man's jacket as a present for the rebel units moving to his location and before disappearing once more like a phantom. But for all the replicants silence, the Atrisian Jedi kept distance and was closing in by the second, wherever out of bravery or foolishness, the fight was not over. Asa was thrown to the side by a force push, catching herself as she landed on a knee and shot her head up to look at the girl. She twitched her head and rose up to be level with the girl once more.
​

 

[Orys Draste]

​

Allies: Hal Vaiken // Hiram Voss
Enemies: Dracken Pryce // Valery Noble // Sylix // 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]

"Tell the admiral no assistance is necessary.", Orys offered his comms officer as he laid out the next of his orders.​

​

"Let him focus solely on the plethora of enemies infront of him. Get us closer, and get me a secure channel with the groundside forces."​

​

A military affirmation and the ships began to close on the drive yards. The ships before them were mostly complete - many likely awaiting buyers, but some were hardly functional. Orys could see they would need to be refitted once back in Imperial Space; but that was going to have to be less of a concern for now. Priority would have to be the complete vessels, and the unfinished but flyable would simply come second.​

​

As the secure channel was finalized, Orys spoke with authority into the microphone;​

​

"SCAR Squadron, this is Commodore Orys Draste of the Imperial Navy. Are the slave drives installed? Transfer control of the authorized departures and we'll begin getting them off ring."​

​

His question was simple, but it was cut short by one of the docked star destroyers opening fire on the drive yard itself. No doubt a personal choice from the SCAR commander, but it forced Orys to set his jaw tight. The drive yards could be repaired - that wasn't the problem, but it would no doubt come back to bite them in a political sense. Any form of casuality put upon the local Kuati from NIO forces was no doubt to besmirch their efforts here.​

​

"A great lightshow, Commander.", Orys offered the Squadron, though partially sarcastic.​

​

"Do you need more precise support? We have squadrons and ships primed and ready."​

​

At least from the outside their weapons officers could cause some damage that was safer for hearts and minds.​

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

SUNK COSTS
CHANCELLOR’S SUITE // CORUSCANT

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

Fel continued to focus his iron gaze on the skirmish unfolding on the Kuat drive yards and his precious Star Destroyers, steering the conversation away from the civil unrest that was unfolding on the surface. By avoiding the clear Imperial involve he at least showed Tithe and his colleagues the courtesy of not lying directly to their faces. But the two were intrinsically linked - Loghain’s increasing instability had opened a door for the terrorists to attach the docked NIO ships.

The Emperor again asked the Alliance for a ceasefire to avoid further bloodshed.

The Arbiter silenced the hololink for a moment so the Alliance representative could confer. She proposed offering over partial control of the shipyards to the Imperials as a means to bring the conflict to an end. Seto agreed, reminding them that the orbital shipyards were long overdue to be destroyed, as had happened in every previous battle above the planet in known memory.

“If we give an inch, they’ll take a lightyear,” the Chancellor explained. “They’re wily these Imperials, and Fel, well let’s just say he’s more the politician than I gave him credit for.” Tithe’s eyes darted for a moment to check the mute indicator was still active - he imaged Fel would take such a character assessment as an insult. “Yes, now we need them gone pronto, then we can deal with this little, uhh, Loghain mess.”

Tithe nodded for the technical to unmute the connection.

“Your request for a ceasefire is, uhh, granted,” Tithe replied to Fel. “But, and let me be very clear, it is conditional. Alliance forces will stand down and not interfere with your freedom of navigation to depart. However, no control of the driveyards will be yielded. Your people should head directly to the Star Destroyers and depart immediately - any deviations of this will be interpreted as a, well, you get the idea.” The Imperial’s had a fair claim to their ships, but possession of anything further was as false as Loghain’s tenuous claim to power.

“Get me Admiral Sylix ,” Tithe asked the holotech. He turned back to Fel as he waited for the call to connect.

“I trust these terms are agreeable?”

 

[Rurik Fel]

E M P E R O R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
THE IRONCLAD
Caarlyle Rausgeber
Aerarii Tithe | Auteme | The Arbiter | Madelyn Lowe​

​

Good enough. That was all Rurik could think in that moment when the Chancellor conceded to the Emperor that they would in fact be able to secure all assets from the dockyards. To think they might be able to achieve an Imperial exclave of Kuat was a pipe dream at best. But such was the realm of negotiation- start high and go low.

"Fine. Instruct your defense forces to cease fire immediately, Chancellor. The Empire will not be so patient if it is wronged again in the future, Senators. But I am its will made manifest and I will not spend any more Imperial lives due to the ineffectiveness of a failed government." Rurik said, closing the comm line to the Galactic Alliance before opening it to Carlyle.

"Admiral Regent- send the order down to direct a cease-fire at once to our forces in the dockyards." He commanded before eventually closing that line of communication as well. The official Imperial presence would be scrubbed clean from Kuat along with each of their assets in orbit of the world.

However- the unmarked, covert operations taking place on the planet's surface would remain unfettered and unsubuded by the Emperor.

His will would be done, by any means necessary.

 

[Ishida Ashina]

LIGHT MUST COME FROM THE INSIDE
KUAT | KUAT CITY | CROWDS
YOU CANNOT ASK THE DARKNESS TO LEAVE
YOU MUST TURN ON THE LIGHT

​

Many rebels, alongside Elane supporters, were taking cover now. Behind the path of destruction, using the smoke to their advantage to fire on black-armour clad troops. The assassin Ishida was countering was just one of many. The killer who failed. How many other lives would have been spared if she had succeeded and ended Elane's life on the podium? Or would the brimming conflict have erupted into violence regardless of the assassin's success?

Impossible to know. Right now, Ishida's mind couldn't wander. She was busy being the protagonist of a horrible fairytale. But instead of a breadcrumb trail in a forest, it was one of broken flesh and bone city plaza.

Lady Elane rose from the backseat of the car that had pierced the building like a knife. Her face was bloodied and bruised. One of her arms hung limply by her side, her shoulder dislocated, making it difficult to squeeze from the transport that was smoking and firing.

The same transport Ishida and the assassin were at the bumper-end of.

Elane's life was spared by the distance The Force put between her and the assassin. The assassin with a hip sparked as if a mini fireworks show were set around her pelvis. Ishida only glanced down briefly before she re-established eye contact.

Ishida met the soulless gaze of the replicant. Into pupils that were obsidian voids. The stare-down lasted less than five seconds before Ishida snapped forward, her sabre's white blade activating with a diagonal slash across the torso of the replicant. She would not make the same mistake to get so close without her blade's edge between them. Her wrist still hummed with the bruise and crushing phantom pain from minutes earlier.

---

NIO: Rika Hiro | Jordi Massad | Karissa Saitel | Kolson Vrask
RA: CH3 | LADY OF IRON
GA: Bernard of Arca

 

[CH3]

REBEL RISING
ELANE OF KUAT RALLY - KUAT CITY

Feat. Spirit of Judgement as ‘Elane of Kuat’ | Ishida Ashina | Sol Stazi | Harson Thaddeus | Bernard of Arca | RA-GA
Karissa Saitel | Kolson Vrask | Rika Hiro | Jordi Massad | Don Belkora | Nuruodo'kal'brast | Douge Johnson | NIO

__ UPLINK ESTABLISHED __

CH3’s risk assessment module returned a conclusive finding - physical destruction all but assured. While the modified worker droid had at its disposal strength and speed unparalleled by flimsy, mortal flesh, its adversary already had a weapon trained on the droid and had the doorway as cover. Even the droids powerful servos would not be able to pivot and raise its weapon or dart to cover before the enemy was able to fire.

Assessing current performance against the mission parameters, the Rebel’s mission of Kuat was still an alarmingly long way from success. Elane of Kuat had been driven from her rally, and by last reports, her escape vessel had been shot down. Julius Loghain remained on the planet’s throne, and based on the headcount of the rioters, still commanded some respect among the locals. The absence of Galactic Alliance chatter suggested their peacekeepers had not yet restored order to Kuat City. Much work would need to be done to claim victory.

And according to the computations, CH3 would not be here to witness that victory when it came.

Not that its work had been for naught. The evidence recorded in the sniper's nest would be invaluable to the Rebel Alliance in proving who was behind the shooting. The face of his assailant, who elected to remain silent rather than respond to his enquiry designed to buy more time, would be added to the Rebel’s database of enemy combatants.

In a few moments, CH3’s high-speed comlink would upload all the droid’s vital intel to the Rebel shadownet.

The droid didn’t fear death insomuch as it was displeased with a failed mission. CH3 had hard-programmed subroutines similar to the sentient conception of fear, designed to steer the droid away from dangerous situations to avoid damage or destruction. These were naturally tuned down in battle droids, and yet, the droid would have enjoyed seeing its first assignment through to completion. That was, after all, its mandate - to complete assigned tasks to a satisfactory standard.

The woman with the ion beamer, satisfied that CH3 presented a threat, fired on the droid. CH3’s internal circuitry was disrupted in an instant, plunging its central processor into darkness.

__ UPLOAD: INCOMPLETE __

 

[Karissa Saitel]

https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/916099948024565781/929705073519493140/Kuat_3.jpg

OBJECTIVE: PEACEWALKER
CODENAME: SHIV
IMPERIAL SECURITY BUREAU
EQUIPMENT: SBG-01x Bodyglove | civilian clothes | ACS-208 Wrist Ion Beamer |
BH-Specter Slicer Vibroknife | BH-Durin Charric Blaster Pistol

NIO | Jordi Massad | Don Belkora | Rika Hiro | Kolson Vrask
RA/GA | CH3 | IVI | Bernard of Arca | Ishida Ashina

​

The ion beam struck the droid with a glow and spiderweb of electricity Karissa was not too proud to admit luck had something to do with her surprise attack on the rebel droid. The one-eyed machine instantly shut down, her weapon's ion charge overwhelming its electronics and temporarily disabling him. While the wrist beamer lowered, the Lorrdian's other hand slipped her blaster from his holster, just in case. The droid was certainly a rebel, and rebels were crafty and deceiving. Inching closer, Karissa examined the droid, hearing no hum of servos, nor saw lights of sensors. She reached and slipped the carbine blaster from the droid's mechanical grasp.

The sound of chaos continued outside in the square, the noise of rioting growing closer. Moving to the window, she could see there was no order, no clear majority laying hold of the situation. Elane and her vehicles were beyond the view, but she received a message that Elane's speeder had been brought down, but still no confirmed kill.

Sounds from the stairway and the end of the hall heralded the arrival of rioters. She would have liked to try to slice into the droid and see what data she could garner. But there would be no time. The mob would simply see a deactivated worker droid abandoned in the chaos. Popping the energy pack from the carbine and tossing it out the window, karissa tossed the rifle in a closet and climbed out a window. Like a monkey lizard, the ISB agent scaled from the second floor window to the street. On her way down. Karissa could see the replicant agent facing off with a jedi, before the undercover agent sank into the tumult, another unidentified citizen caught in the chaos. She worked her way in the direction of the of the crashed speeders and hottest conflict.

Enroute, a message came through her commpiece. She pressed a finger against it to push if firmly into her ear, to help drown out the noise around her. Some agreement was made, it seemed, and imperial forces were pulling out. the missive continued in succinct code. Covert assets were to remain. Ducking down an alley and unslinging her bag, Karissa slipped off the wrist beamer and removed her blaster. Both were stowed in the bag. The young woman then returned to the crowd, disappearing among the chaos.

 

[Kelinna Tryn]

R E A P E R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
KDY | KUAT
SCAR SQUADRON: Hal Vaiken | Volgin Alto | Atticus Draco | NIO
WAR HOGS: Traden Avarice | Monos | Phaineve Halseigh | Zav Traros | Keiran Varn | @WHOAMIMISSING?
ENGAGING: Monos

GEAR: Modified Armour | Sniper rifle | Pistol | Rifle | Vibroblade | Vibroknife | Grenade loadout

ONE SHOT AT GLORY​

What a mess.

They were still locked behind cover for the moment while everything went to hell around them. Sarge was grumbling at Hoax while Lily fired more shots from behind the cover. It also sounded like Mauler had gone down based on some comms chatter cutting through.
"Shit." she grumbled. Between Hoax's protestations and Mauler out while they themselves were pinned behind cover, it was a right pickle.

But Sarge's orders took a drastic turn over the comms before he turned toward her.

"Line up your shot and fire - get that forcefield down. I'll cover."

Down to business then.

No pressure.

With just a nod, she exchanged her rifles once more, trusting the man next to her to have her back. With even breaths, she allowed the HUD a second to sync with the rifle in order to giver her her range.
"Damn it." she breathed. "It's bloody far for a bloody small thing." It wasn't going to be an easy shot. With the amount of interference between them and the force field, she hoped the slug reached its small target. So she adjusted the scope and lined the shot.

With one final breath, she had her lock. The rest of the hangar and the shipyard fell away, the noise of blasterfire and screaming soldiers was white noise, even Hal next to her didn't exist. With a silent exhale, her half-prone body went still. Then she pressed the trigger.

And the Verpine-tech whispered in response.

The AP round found its mark dead center of the control panel. Through the scope she could see the electrical jolt run through the panel as it shorted. Another heartbeat before the field finally went down.

The shipyard and hangar and noise all came flooding back as she finally breathed in some air before spinning toward her six, swiftly exchanging rifles once more in a fluid movement.
"It's down. Path is as clear as it can be with Mauler out." she told Sarge. Then she noticed the absence of the stuffed sock that was Monos . "Where'd that thing go?" She was on her feet as well now, rifle to her shoulder.

It was probably too much to hope that her CO had downed it.

 

[Zav Traros]

Concluding battle with: Volgin Alto​

Opposition: Hal Vaiken Lily Stevens Atticus Draco
War Hogs: Monos Traden Avarice Phaineve Halseigh Keiran Varn

---

Zav knew what was coming. He was entirely unable to escape it, with his hand and held grenade pinned beneath the Mauler's crushing weight. There would be no second swing of the battered carbine – the weapon soon dropped from his hand, clattering atop the floor. Zav then pressed his face into the crook of his free elbow to better shield his eyes from the debris it might kick up; with so much training in and experience with explosives, the concern was nearly reflexive.

Then he heard the blast.

The crushing pain that had seized his arm vanished in an instant, replaced by sudden numbness and shock – though it did not stop a pained grunt from escaping Zav's clenched teeth. The grenade's detonation rocked Volgin's prone body, enabling the withdrawal of what remained of his arm from beneath. Steam and smoke that had once been his hand wafted along the ground. Only a charred stump remained of his forearm; everything beneath the elbow was gone. The heat of the blast had at least cauterized the wound, and Zav lost little blood along with the missing portion of his arm.

Aside from his injury, his carbine was wrecked, and injured as he was he couldn't fire his grenade launcher. He was done fighting, as was the tank of a trooper he'd just fiercely fought.

Volgin made no further motion or sound. He might be dead or he might be unconscious; Zav didn't know, and hadn't the time to find out. Prepared for a suicidal stand against the massive trooper, he had faltered, yet had emerged alive and victorious from the intense and explosive melee. One he would not ever forget – the cybernetic hand that'd replace his former of flesh and bone would become an eternal reminder of the battle fought, and the trooper who took it.

He needed medical aid, and badly. Zav made his immediate way towards Phaineve, limping as fast as he could.

"It's Zav; I'm on my way but I'm karking crippled here!" Zav finally replied to her message, steadily approaching her position.

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

SUNK COSTS
CHANCELLOR'S SUITE // CORUSCANT

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

The tension was palpable as Fel considered Tithe's offer. But he did, firing off a parting warning to the Alliance as he ended the holdcall.

Tithe exhaled loudly, not realising he had been holding his breath. The Aargauun had sat through innumerable negotiations and hostile takeovers in his time, but during those credits had been on the line, not total war. When faced with the most powerful military force in the galaxy, the Alliance had not blinked. It would be a public victory for the Chancellor that the Imperials were departed with the driveyards still intact, perhaps the first time in history they had not been brought down on the planet.

And yet, for what should have been a moment of unbridled glory, Tithe was left deeply unsatisfied. He'd strayed a long way from the galaxy's top boardrooms to sit in the Chancellor's podium. He was rich almost beyond his wildest briefs (almost, when it came to credits he could imagine quite a lot), and yet, politics was losing the lustre it once held. The corporate world was on the rise in the Core, maybe it was time to retake his seat at the table.

"Admiral Sylix, General Harson Thaddeus , yes order all Alliance military personnel to stand down immediately," Tithe explained, opening a channel to the military commanders. "Kuat will soon be rid of the NIO, but - and I must stress this - their departure should not be impinged. However, should any foreign fighters choose to remain or not make directly for the Star Destroyers the, ahh, standard rules of engagement apply."

Tithe rose from his chair and circled the conference table, offering his congratulation to his senatorial colleagues. "We need an announcement, ohh yes, a big announcement. 'Kuat freed from the clutches of Imperialism'. 'This day, this day is a victory for democracy'. You know, along those line, I'll leave the grandiose proclamation for you to settle with my office."

He approached one of the expansive windows which looked out over the Coruscant skyline, pretending to take in the view. His eyes darted back and forth behind his data goggles, tapping out a quick message over the secure Trade Federation Holonet.

"Kuat secured, assets in tact," he advised Gat Tambor , buoyed by the outcomes of the negotiations. "Fondor and Ringo Vinda will complete the crown."

"Then, the real work begins."

 

[Julius Loghain]

Underground bunker,
Loghain's Palace

Gathered within the heavy concrete walls of the room, Loghain's generals gathered around the Lord-Regent reporting the latest from the war front. Dry lips, sweaty brows, and tension so thick that only a lightsaber could cut through it. No one dared to breath.

"The Alliance has made a breakthrough." Col. Friars, the Kuati liaison with ISB pointed on the holographic map illuminating the pale faces of the gathered veterans of the Kuati Patriotic Front and Kuati Security Force, "They took Ereber district and are advancing towards Valhaus. They're at the northern city border, between Brugselt and Maunnet. In the east, they reached Oppach, Eastnes, and Wonstad."

"If Fel attacks, everything will be alright." Loghain waved away the concerns. The Kuati's cunning plan to sabotage an Imperial Star Destroyer in the shipyards painting it as an Alliance attack to trigger a war between the two nations had been so far a success as the states came to blow in orbit.

"My Lord-Regent..." Friars began warily, the strong military tone clearly rattled, "The Emperor..."

"Fel has come to a ceasefire agreement with the Alliance." Gen. Kirchfeld finished, his bald head matted with sweat.

The Despot's face remained stoic, unchanged as his trembling hand slid the gold-rimmed glasses down on his desk, "The following remain here - Friars, Kirchfeld, Hadzard, Obrik." one by one, silent as mice the officers stepped out of the room. The creaking of their leather boots echoed in the hallway outside.

As the door closed behind the last to leave, Loghain's voice exploded in rage, "IT WAS GUARANTEED! FEL'S ATTACK WAS GUARANTEED! HOW DARE TAMBOR DECEIVE ME?!... IS THIS WHAT IT HAS COME TO? THE EMPIRE HAS BEEN LYING TO ME! EVEN THE FEDERATION!! THE IMPERIALS ARE NO MORE THAN A BUNCH OF DISLOYAL COWARDS!"

"My Lord, I cannot permit you to offend the--"

"COWARDS, TRAITORS AND INCOMPETENTS!"

"Sir, this is--"

"THE IMPERIALS LIKE YOU ARE THE SCUM OF THE KUATI PEOPLE! NO SENSE OF HONOR! YOU CALL YOURSELF IMPERIAL BECAUSE YOU SPENT YEARS AT THE BASTION ACADEMY WHERE YOU ONLY LEARNT TO USE A KNIFE AND A FORK!" he spat.

"FOR YEARS, THE EMPIRE HAS LIED TO ME! ALL YOU EVER DID IS THWART ME!" his fists came down hammering on the hard wooden desk, "I SHOULD'VE HAD ALL OF YOU SYCOPHANTS EXECUTED!"

Panting, Loghain slumped back down on his chair. His chest heaved with anger and his eyes burned with wrath. "I never went to no imperial academy but I conquered Kuat all on my own!"

"Traitors. I've been betrayed and deceived from the start!! Such enormous betrayal of the Kuati people! But all these traitors will pay. With their own blood! They will drown in their own blood!!"

Julius swallowed, the weight of betrayal pulling his eyes down to the floor, "All my plans have been foiled due to incompetence and betrayal... how can I be a leader under such circumstances?... It's over."

"The war... is lost." tears filled the aged patriot's eyes, rage abating to make space for despair, "But if you think this means I'll leave Kuat, you're wrong. I'd rather shoot a bolt through my head..."

"... do what you want."

Sol Stazi Rurik Fel

 

[Rika Hiro]

Asa Yubari|Kuat|The End
COMPNOR
Tags:// Don Belkora Jordi Massad Hal Vaiken Karissa Saitel Iseri Tanaka CH3 Bernard of Arca Ishida Ashina Kolson Vrask

"You."

The replicant proclaimed bluntly, hand outstretched and pointing at the silver-haired Jedi as if there was nothing else between them or around them. Just two Atrisians in an ashen despondent land, the only thing between Asa and Elane was a little girl with a saber, an Atrisian just like Asa was. Distant cries and blaster fire rang in the distance, but it didn't register to the replicant; the only thing that was in her world was the girl blocking them from the thing they'd arrived on the planet for.

"Do you think that you alone can stop the coming tide, even if we are destroyed, there are more of us, there'll always be, we're among you, and you don't even know it."

And so she truly spoke for the first time fully, in the same benign and monotone accented voice that she was known for. The very same voice that had been the last thing a person ever heard, with the same obsidian black eyes staring into their souls as Asa closed in. She moved around the girl in a semi-circle, almost as if seizing her up like a common prey. Her ghastly white features illuminated by the hue of the girl's saber, revealing the blaster wounds and Vibro blade stabs accumulated from running through the panicked and confused rebels in the mist.

"You cannot hold the tide back with a broom-"

She violently twitched and fell onto one knee as the electricity from her damaged components rocked through her body, sending her shaking and twitching with an almost brutal intensity as blood began to pour from her eyes. Asa punched the ground repeatedly to fight away the intense pain, feel something, and feel alive.

"No one can." she spoke again, but in a different voice, one of a rebel alliance soldier kidnapped during the third imperial civil war, his only crime being that COMPNOR required bodies for the ERIS project. Thousands of voices were stored in the COMPNOR database, voices of the innocent, the lost and the damned. It was how the replicants were given their voices and could mimicry other people.

"Especially not you."

This time, the voice was of the girls father.​

 

[Bernard of Arca]

KUAT | KUAT CITY | CROWDS
Objective III

NIO: Rika Hiro Kolson Vrask Jordi Massad Karissa Saitel
GA: Ishida Ashina
REBELS: CH3

The soldier drew a blaster pistol, much faster than anticipated. He had the barrel pointed directly at Bernard barely a moment later, ready to take the shot.

A jolt ran up Bernard's spine, warning him mere heartbeats before the soldier pulled the trigger. He abandoned the wave, forgoing the moment of concentration it took to summon it and opted for a reflexive telekinetic pull instead. He ripped the soldier's arm to the side the instant before the firing mechanism loosed the blast.

A loud screech erupted from the blaster, and a blue ripple shot through the air, barely missing Bernard. It exploded against the alley wall behind him, raining dust and debris onto the speeder car.

Bernard prepared for another shot, lining up a lightsabre swing to cut the blaster in half, when the soldier stepped back and turned away, given a silent order by the one Bernard presumed to be the squad leader.

No moment of rest followed the brief encounter, as the squad made use of their superiority in numbers. The squad leader advanced on Bernard and fired several volleys to cover the retreat of his subordinate.

Bernard shot to his feet, bringing his lightsabre up to block the shots he couldn't sidestep. He held onto the hilt with more strength than would have been necessary against blaster bolts, which proved prudent when his observations of the soldiers' weaponry turned out to be correct.

The bolts exploded against the blade of Bernard's lightsabre in bursts of savage energy loaded with kinetic force. He'd noted the large chunks of stone their shots had blasted from the surrounding buildings during their initial advance. Impact holes of that size hadn't been consistent with ordinary blaster weaponry.

These troops carried particle beam rifles, repeaters no less, and sonic weaponry. They weren't ordinary soldiers, they'd come prepared to face Jedi.

Step by calculated step the man moved closer, firing bursts of deadly energy while Bernard bid his time. He was grateful for the hours of blaster practice with Prosperity's droids. Master Arcanus had been insidious with his program, and Bernard had a live fire example of why it had been designed that way.

Bernard had his back against the wall, side-stepping, ducking under, and twisting out of the way of the volleys while he interposed his lightsabre between any shots that might have proven fatal if he'd gone without it. The timing of each volley and the breaks between them varied, unpredictable.

His defence could keep up, but if they settled into a rhythm like this the soldier would have the upper hand. It took intense concentration to keep up with a repeating blaster, and Bernard wasn't looking for an endurance match when the possibility of facing more than one opponent was very real. He had to change the game if he wanted to survive.

He stepped forward to block one of the energy beams, bracing against the impact, then twisted out of the way of the next, shifting his feet up by a little, and repeated the manoeuvre until the tip of his boot jutted out over the edge of the speeder's car. Once the soldier was close enough, the moment the next volley concluded, he reached out through the Force, to pull the soldier's rifle forward, and stepped off the roof, swinging his blade to cut the rifle in two.

 

[Phaineve Halseigh]

[Rebel Alliance]
[Aboard the Shipyards - Docked Constance-class Patrol Ship]
[Warhogs: Traden Avarice , Monos , Keiran Varn , Zav Traros ]
[Imperial Opposition: Hal Vaiken , Volgin Alto , Lily Stevens , Atticus Draco ]​

---

"It's Zav; I'm on my way but I'm karking crippled here!"

"I'll keep the med-bay open for you." Phaineve grimaced. She couldn't possibly do any more, not until the last of the Historian's subroutines were unlocked. "Stay safe..." But all she wanted to do was to scream for Zav to hurry up. They all had to hurry up.

"B.O.B," with the frigate's own communications protocols unlocked, she was able to patch herself in to the Warhogs' AI, "I need you to take over here, alright? Start with helm systems. Then shut down the transponders. Weapons and shielding will be a bonus, but save them for last." The pilot spared a cautious nod when met by the ringing chirp of the console, the swirling trail of light on the display as a part of B.O.B's program darted across the interface.

And now to deal with the intruder... Phaineve's reddening eyes locked with another display-- the floor maps. The peculiar dot of life had already discovered the Historian's engineering compartment, and having seemingly locked its scent on the Rebel infiltrator had begun to clamber toward the bridge. The distance of a full deck began to close rapidly with every second, every nervous twitch of the pilot's empty hand. "Now who might you be?" a nervous glance hurried to the room's unoccupied entrance. A lone pang of colliding metal emanated from her utility belt, as the captain's blaster once more released from its holster.

A single, unsteady inhale collected what little remained of her confidence in the matter, and marked Phaineve's first, cautious step toward the bridge exit. A hesitant swipe of the Corellian's hand pushed her hair behind her, only to fly back across her shoulders when she rounded a corner. The scope and barrel of the feverwasp darted their gazes from side-to-side down the corridor.

Nothing.

To think she'd earned her original military commission for flying. She sounded a measly chuckle for the long-dead days of her Galactic Alliance career. Manpower shortages plaguing the emerging Rebel Alliance had made a dropship pilot into an agent, a foot solider, an infiltrator. If her prior life could possibly be described as simple, that simplicity was long gone.

And she'd likely never know such a life again. Her G.A days were over. Her cargo-running days were over.

But that wasn't Phaineve's current concern. It couldn't be. Not now. And as soon as she'd resolved herself to the truth, the pilot heard a click to remind herself of her current situation. Then a voice, reshaped into a distorted shout by a helmet's modulation filters. "Drop it, Alliance swine."

"Ah. There you are..." she produced a quiet, deliberating sigh. "Alright..." The rigid blood in her hands began to thaw, tense muscles made to relax until the pilot's pistol clattered to the floor. Phaineve produced an audible, sharp inhale; then a clatter as she kicked the fallen weapon to the side. Her eyes slogged shut, and just as quickly re-opened to meet the dead, empty black eyes of an Imperial trooper when she finished a full pivot. A desperate facade of smugness upturned the corners of her lips in a smile; but her eyes betrayed everything-- Anger, Fear. Hesitation baked into her tone as she spoke. "Shouldn't you be helping your Imperial buddies, buckethead?"

The trooper paused, seemingly to reinforce the grip on their rifle. "I should be asking you the same thing." She could feel the amused grin behind the figure's mask. Despite her best efforts, a shiver shot up Phaineve's spine and sent a tremble down her fists. The barrel of the Imperial rifle seemed several inches closer to her body. "So... what's an Alliance soldier doing aboard an empty frigate, eh?"

A screeching cry fizzled out from the walls, the intercoms caught in a rush of audio from the bridge-- itself scrambling to interpret a wide-net broadcast from outside the Historian's bulkheads. One voice, bathed in a rolling tone of confident Imperialism, began, echoing down from every speaker installation within the corridors. Another chimed in to precede it, this one uttered with an accent that could only be found in the deep core. But to the utter bemusement of the two soldiers, they both called for a stand down. Alliance and Imperial personnel alike were ordered to cease hostilities, and to part ways. Phaineve saw her same furious, bewildered smile reflected behind the Imperial's helmet.

"Isthisaj?!-" But before either could finish, the Rebel pounced. Phaineve's clawing hands wrapped around the Imperial's rifle, twisted violently along its frame. "What the kark- GAH" In the panicked confrontation, the pilot's elbow collided with the enraged of the trooper's helmet-- hard. The shockwave and jolt of pain ran circles in her blood even as Phaineve peeled away from the other soldier, rifle secured hurriedly in her grasp. "Damn you little-" An awful screech of energy erupted between the two, then another. Violent recoil slammed Phaineve against the cold floors beneath her, the pilot's shrapnel-scarred cheek battered further by the shockwave of the impact.

Her eyes fluttered open, a pained grimace defining the colors of paling crimson on her face. Intensifying as she pushed against the frigid hull, as she came to a wobbly stand and surveyed the motionless body of the trooper. She wanted to gag at the sight of the two smoking blaster entry points, vision locked in a hauntingly sharp painting of cauterized flesh.

No time. No time. Her fists clenched and her breath raced as Phaineve rocketed back toward the bridge.

 

[Kolson Vrask]

G R U N G E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
IMPERIAL ARMY SPECIAL FORCES 'STORM COMMANDOS'
1st GROUP | OPERATIONAL DETACHMENT ALPHA 'VANDAL'
ODA ATTACHED TO | IMPMAG in support of KPF
Armor | Rifle | Pistol | Grenades
NIO | Jordi Massad | Don Belkora | Rika Hiro | Karissa Saitel | Iseri Tanaka
RA | CH3 | IVI | Sol Stazi | Bernard of Arca | Ishida Ashina

PURSUIT
COMPNOR-IMPAF JOINT OPERATION 'RIGHTEOUS CLAIM'
KUAT '74
​

As soon as the rifle left his hands he immediately coursed his left vambrace up to fire a grappling cord with the aim of wrapping it around Bernard's leg before flicking a switch to stop it from reeling out any further, making the line completely taut before jumping back and twisting his body in the hopes of pulling the Jedi from his footing and slamming him unto the broken ground beneath.

All the while, the Storm Commandos around the exchange did as they did best. They held the line against superior numbers. With the Jedi and Grunge battling to their backs they trusted in their commander to at the very least, incapacitate the knight for long enough to make a swift escape or even better, complete the kill.

Priest managed to fire a burst of whistling birds down one of the alleyways, popping in chaotic clusters in the face of an approaching squad of loyalists as Salvo kept his eyes down the sights, hitting each Kuati that crossed through them with a loud thud of the kinetic rounds slamming into their chest with each shot fired and bolt actioned to load the next.

If Grunge might've been able to pull Bernard to the ground, the next step was to immediately remove the saber from the man's hold, he aimed his other vambrace in the direction of Arc's wrist and fired a burst of searing flame toward his grip in the hopes that he'd drop the saber out of reflex or reel his arm back enough to where he could lurch down and gain ground control to incapacitate his ability to continue the fight any longer.