Invasion Crumbling Castle | NIO Invasion of TSE Held Gravlex Med and Ibanjii (Generis)

[Jivim Vaak]

NIV Pride of the Emperor [PROXIMITY]
Allies: NIO | GA | Caarlyle Rausgeber | Var Koon | Naier Rambeigh | Gallius Orcana | Tantalus
Enemies: TSE | EE | Onrai | Ren-Hua Mant | Seela Leini
Current Kit: [TIE/OTx Outlander]

[THEME]​

The stomps of boot clattering about the metal floors of the hall, the group of runners got thinner and thinner as they went over to the catwalks that were held over their respective starfighters. As the group was down to two, they halted by the catwalk. Vaak and Razor 4 looked over to each other and bashed their fists together. The knuckles collided, Razor 4 commented.

"Try not to fly too fancy like you did in Helgard. You might run into my turbo laser."
Vaak replied. "Now who's fault would that be?" A grin present along the tattoos of the Rattataki's face.
"Good point, let's get the show on the road brother." Razor 4 stated, donning the helmet now.
"You got it bro, I got your back."

With a nod after Vaak's words. The Rattataki rushed off in a full sprint to his deployment station, slapping his helmet on and fine-tuning the seals on it with no error whatsoever. Clambering down the hatch and taking his seat. He'd immediately speed through the necessary steps to start up his Outlander, flicking switches here and there. Finishing up with activating his computers.

"Razor 5 report." A gruff yet feminine voice went off in his ear. Vaak adjusted the dial on the side of his comms to fix the volume. Stating in a monotone fashion. "Razor 1, this is Razor 5. All systems are green, ready to launch off and proceed to the objective, over." A habit that the comms officer had when it came to ending his transmissions, despite the fact that transmitting formations weren't so held strictly in this squad. The superior understood regardless.

"Solid copy on last, Razor squadron form up on me, once we're 100 meters out from the Pride, impulse over to the transports and proceed with the defensive." The voice went announced. Moments later the mixture of TIE Outlanders and TIE Slashers departed from the hangar, led by a singular TIE Interceptor. The signature howl of their engines was prevalent within the depths of the hangar until they exited the ship.

The wedge formation was adopted, the interceptor still in the lead of the squad. With the nearing of the objective, a ping was made on Vaak's comms. It was a signal to report on the arrival. With a brush onto the screen, and a tap. Vaak connected to transmit over to the Pride, specifically to the Captain.

"Captain Orcana sir, this is Razor 5, Razor Squadron has successfully disembarked from the Pride and is now attached to the objective. Escort is Oscar-Mike, proceeding with mission. Over." The Second Lieutenant communicated with a monotone to his words.

The Squadron of five divided, spreading about to get a good correlation with the neighboring shuttles that housed the Kaleesh warriors.

 

[Onrai]

Allies: Seela Leini Moff Drybis Lyken Ren-Hua Mant
Enemies: Caarlyle Rausgeber Tantalus Gallius Orcana Aerarii Tithe Jivim Vaak

The twice-false goddess watched from the bridge of the Gorgon as the hypervelocity rounds flew through space towards Caudillo, the nearest of the Sovereign Elites in the perimeter wrapped around the dreadnought. The shields of the battlecruisers shimmered as it absorbed the impact of the first salvo from the enemy fleet. The Sovereign Elites swiftly turned to face the enemy onslaught, anti-fighter beams prepped to pierce through enemy fighters as came and antimissile octets ready to intercept incoming ordnance. The seeker baradium missiles locked onto the Lanius and Gorgon, offloading a fusillade as plasma shone from the UBeams mounted on the prows of the various warships - UBeams that soon lanced across the arc of space to strike at the lesser warships.

For now the fighters and bombers within the dreadnought and its escorts remained static. The Sith within the actual Gorgon were busy focusing, searching through the familiar enemy ships for a weakness capable of being exploited through the power of the Dark Side of the Force. Once again, the petard fighters were evidently being deployed, their ordnance cores loaded as recollection came to the Siths' minds as to what had happened the last times a petard had been used on them. Yet here, they had not yet been launched - it was the perfect opportunity to act. As had happened many times before, panels and other portions of the detonating systems on board the petards would pop open, triggering the anti-tampering failsafes on board them. Whether this would result in any of the Petards detonating inside the hangars of their affiliated warships or whether it would merely render useless the detonation systems of the fighters in question was unknown - this had proven previously effectual in preventing the Petards from otherwise being used similarly to the TIE Detonators and Scrapmetals once put to use by the Sith Empire in decades past.

"Once we've broken down the largest ships that pose a threat to my dreadnought, we can more effectually deal with the Tregessar. It is the largest threat on the battlefield right now." She said. "Maintain your Sith analogues in the event communications are jammed and prep viral transmissions to the enemy fleet."

Spoiler: Onrai's Fleet

Vanessa's Command Fleet
Class | Name | Length | Shields | Hull
Gorgon-class Star Dreadnought | Gorgon | 10000m | 100 | 100 (Firing beams and baradium missiles at Lanius)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Heresiarch | 5000m | 100 | 100 (Firing beams and baradium missiles at Lanius)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Despot | 5000m | 100 | 100 (Firing beams and baradium missiles at Lanius)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Autarch | 5000m | 100 | 100 (Firing beams and baradium missiles at Lanius)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Martinet | 5000m | 100 | 100 (Firing beams and baradium missiles at Lanius)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Sovereign | 5000m | 100 | 100 (Firing beams and baradium missiles at NIV Gorgon)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Harbinger | 5000m | 100 | 100 (Firing beams and baradium missiles at NIV Gorgon)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Guardian | 5000m | 100 | 100 (Firing beams and baradium missiles at NIV Gorgon)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Mandator | 5000m | 100 | 100 (Firing beams and baradium missiles at NIV Gorgon)
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Caudillo | 5000m | 95 | 100 (Firing beams and baradium missiles at NIV Gorgon)

 

[Djorn Bline]

P U N I S H E D _ S N A K E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
GENERIS
ARMOR | PRIMARY | SECONDARY | MELEE | GRENADES

ECLIPSE​

Behind the treeline and thick flora separating him and the perimeter established by the high end walls, macrobinoculars integrated in the helm of his armor zoomed in and out as the COMPNOR operative surveyed the wall. Trying to find an opening he could exploit without drawing any attention to him. Indeed the enemy was aware of their presence on Generis, yet they were unaware of his advances onto the base and just how close the enemy was with a veiled dagger aimed for them. Almost like a dagger stabbing through someone’s ribs, piercing through the bone to exact mortal wounds onto the lungs. It was a large base to infiltrate and sneak pass, and one wrong move would mean a compromise on his life.

His sensors picked up rustling in the flora behind him, though he dismissed it as a nothing more than some harmless animal occupying itself. It would take focused detection on his position from some esteemed sensor instrument to discover him. He felt secured where he was, although he shouldn’t waste anymore time on surveying the wall and whatever defenses established.

“What’s the situation Snake?”

The Vice Chancellor, Aerarii Tithe . How could he be unfamiliar from his voice? Tithe and several officials from the high echelons of the Alliance monitored the battlefield from different angles in the perspective belonging to the soldiers fighting through the humid jungles.

<“Trying to find an opening for me to exploit, Vice Chancellor. I’ve marked several points of access to advance on, since I am operating alone.”>

Alone on his position as there were other operatives working in their own tasks near the base whether it was to commit direct action, or making sure there was no hidden surprises awaiting for the mechanized assets and infantry from the main assault force.

<“I’ll give you an update once I’m- wait, hold up.”>

Immediately closing the channel from his end as that same disturbance behind him cams again. Probably a predator that had a keen interest on Djorn, and was now preparing for their own attack. Didn’t matter what reasons they had to target Snake, they were a pest that could become more than that. His rifle aimed at the source of noise, waiting and waiting for whatever it was to make its move.

And it did.

An attack that caught him by surprise when a violent push of telekinetic energy concentrated on the Imperial, pushing him on his back and shocked from the attack.

<“Dammit, sh*t.”>

He quickly assumed the attacker to be more than a wild predator, but a trained one; one that knew the ways of the Force. A servant of the Sith. Before he could get up on his feet, he felt something jump on him with hands wrapping their fingers around his neck and coiling tightly. Someone was there, but they were invisible. The Imperial began to choke, making odd noises with whatever air he had left with his windpipe unable to relieve him with steady oxygen. Eyes gauging with red appearing on his cornea. Of course, his assailant couldn’t see how desperate he was for air behind his helmet. A shaking hand from Snake reached for the knife sheathed on his body. Upon gripping around the hilt of his knife and unsheathing it he activated the ultrasonic generator and slashed where he felt the forearm was of the invisible hands choking him to death.

ALLIES | NIO | GA | Rika Hiro | Don Belkora | Kelig Ward | Jax Sloane
ENEMIES | TSE | Eira Dwynwen | Loske Treicolt

 

[Rurik Fel]

M A N _ O F _ I R O N
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
LORD EXECUTOR
KNIGHTS OF THE EMPIRE
Iron Skin | Lightsaber

PSYCHIC WAR
​

His eyes narrowed once more to the convoluted sentiment. She would come here, stand boldly before him and then chastise him over the faulty political maneuver. That she would come where the New Imperials were attacking...and then...make no attempt to stop them. If she was to defend civilians as she claimed...what good could she possibly do?

"Because I'm not like my late Emperor. I am here because GA is here with you or because you support their efforts. Because they are allies. We, too, are the allies with TSE. In addition, someone needs to protect civilians and children from your alliance. But you could have chosen to avoid me and not attack. I wouldn’t have raised a weapon against you or any NIO member. We haven’t done so far, we’ve only defended ourselves, even against the GA, even though we’re at war with them. This is me, Lord Executor; someone who sticks to the contracts she concludes and expects from her people as well."

"If you aim to protect the good people of this realm, the innocents of the Galaxy...then you do no good in raising your arms to me, L'lerim. Make your case to the scattered remains of Mandalore, or the poisoned seas of Dac before you ever speak down to me over the harm of innocents. In your alliance to the Sith, you work to propagate and prolong their reign of terror. But their vaunted castle is crumbling around them...the only thing propping it up anymore are those like you willing to be so easily manipulated. Eternal Empire, Confederate...Silver Jedi, all the same fools." Rurik stated, his voice adopting a tinge of bitterness in his tone.

"You're a victim to their lies as any. A shame...as they tell you so blatantly their motive, brazen in crimson. Peace is a Lie. And it will be a false dream so long as you and every other deluded fool continue their blind death march at their whim." Rurik states, his blow deflected before she returns with a strike all her own, the pommel of her blade striking toward his face. He took the strike in earnest, the metal of the weapon clanging against his iron face as he peered with frigid indifference toward the assassin.

"Whatever lies they fed you...that you spit back to me-" Rurik says, his organic hand snapping up to grasp ahold of the wrist of her extended arm as she lurched with the blade before channeling a destructive force of electric fury through the grip through her body.

All the while, he reeled his blade back before thrusting forward with a thrust of the argent toward her abdomen.

"It means nothing."

​

ALLIES | NIO | Kainan | Ryv | Dagon Kaze | Paz Koon | Enlil
ENEMIES | TSE | Ingrid L'lerim Coordinated | Alina Tremiru | Alisteri Haxim | Arctus Silmar

 

[Loske Treicolt]

WE HUNT
OUTER RIM | GENERIS | OUTER RIM COMMUNICATION CENTRE
THE THINGS WE COULDN'T KILL

​

Slender fingers had been extended into something gnarlier, stronger, more talon-like. The colourful hue of his emotion bled from a focused blue to something more panicked, like a hot-white fear filling the framework of familiarity. Something within them stirred pridefully, glee devouring anything that might have otherwise been horrified at the faux reality she was living.

Ambient jungle sounds were deafened by the guttural gasps of the prey, other senses abated to make room for the satisfying feel of the tender pillar of flesh crushed in their grip.

Danger! Their senses flared! In an instant, their myopic focus shifted from kill to survive. A mutual understanding shared between the sentients and what was unseen was manifested at the touch of the vibroblade. Inky ropes recoiled to make way for human flesh, her flesh, and the yawp of pain that ripped from her throat was more surprised than angry. Until it turned into a growl.

The blade's bite was sharp, slicing through the vast coating of molecules, the shockwave that emanated from contact sent a ripple through the outermost layer of the monster and Jedi's union. As if a breeze were flowing through someone’s shirt, giving small glimpses beneath ––Not enough to cause scandal, but enough to pique curiosity.

Their grip loosened, rearing back unthinkingly. The onyx skin was alive, and as much as it wanted to recoil and save itself, it moved instead to repair the wound. Their shared flesh mended while the focus once more shifted to aggression, fuelled by more motivation to attack and subdue the agent.

Cloudy swirls of grey and pearl locked with the agent’s visor, and their brow deepened into an irrefutable furrow. The parasite moved blindingly fast, diving in once more.

It all happened within the blink of an eye. Sinews stretched from the outline of her –– their –– arm, looping around the wrist of the agent and forcing it back, twisting it to an unholy angle. That blade would not strike again.

In harmony, the heels of her –– their –– hands went forward once more to shove against the trachea and visor simultaneously. While brute force intended to shatter and crush the helmet in, the other hand's sharp, pointed claw-like ends sought to pierce for blood.

He’d already been bruised and weakened, now he needed to break.

ALLIES | TSE
ENEMIES | NIO | GA | NJO | Djorn Bline [ENGAGING] | Eira Dwynwen

 

[Konrad Bolter]

T Y R A N T
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
66th ARMORED COMPANY 'HELL'S HAMMERS'
XT-62 | MBTb 'Cataphracht'

0

APOCALYPSE NOW​

TYRANT - SPEAR
I - II - III - IV - V

DEVIL - SWORD
I - II - III - IV - V

The world went black. A horrible envelopment of the darkness. There was a moment of panic that struck the crew of Tyrant Actual and the rest of the Spear nestled within Konrad's wedge formation. Each peer down the viewports revealed the sea of nothingness, the black hole sun.

<"I've got no visual!"> He leaned forward and down to glance through the driver's viewport, instinctively fighting the urge to bite down on the length of his burning cigarette as he felt the tension flex and bear down over him.

<"Swap to night scopes, launch the flares."> Konrad command, leaning back into the pragmatic finery of the commander's seat, flicking the scopes from visual scanners with life scanner outlines to the florescent, bright green hue of the night vision augmented with the bright emissions of the flare countermeasures set out among the formation.

Within this new visual envelopment, the battlefield came alight again in its dim glow. And then, it came alight far...far better. The Brawlers answered the call and the retinue of The Amalgam reaped the whirlwind of Imperial fire. Ion bombs burst within the treeline to precision target the droids as the errant bombs and missiles sent the jungle into a horrid inferno.

In the those flames, the enemy might've seen the death throes. The Hell's Hammers saw the respite to keep the tide of steel moving.

The darkness faded before long and the default visual scanners fell back into use.

<"We've got our guardian angels keeping watch, let's not f*ck our chance now. Keep moving, keep shields to fu-"> And another one of the repulsor tanks were taken out, the surge of lightning pierced and all but 'melted' the shielding of the tank before the collective firepower sent the vehicle alight. One of the crewmen managed an escape through the rapid deployment escape hatch, pulled from the fray by one of the new Stormtroopers, only for the nearest APC to receive the same fate.

<"These damn Sith aren't letting up, Major.">

<"They never do these f*cking roaches, I'll not be left to the carrions, with the Galidraani bogged down, we can't be afforded to be bailed out the same way. We keep moving."> They at the very least had Brawler on escort, regardless, the Hell's Hammers continued their slow crawl through the now cleared pathway set out for them by the bombing run.

There was only one way to go.

Forward.

ALLIES | NIO | DECEASED Erskine Barran | Willan Tal | Jax Sloane | Loros Kalaric | Nima Appw'rii | Arten Jinn
ENEMIES | TSE | SF-3335 | The Amalgam | Marimax Mortui

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group​

Location: Rakatan Temple ruins, Generis
Objective III.: Rakatan Temple | Super Weapon
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | The Soulsabers | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | G1 OmniLink | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland
Writing with: Rurik Fel

[ Maybe I should just end it all... ] ​

"It all starts here Lord Executor! If the war is not over here the Byn’adûl will easily penetrate the core worlds thanks to the war and chaos caused by NIO and GA! You are just grinding the only possible faction that can stop that herd of animals! So yes, at the moment you are worse than Byn’adûl and I have to protect people from you. Will you also be ready when, thanks to you, the Byn’adûl will attack your borders? That is why I want to end this damn meaningless war! The Byn’adûl attacked us shortly before Dantooine. US! And we are at the other end of the galaxy compared to them! Just think for a moment and don’t be blinded by your hatred against the Sith, Lord Executor! Look at things big!"

As much as she wanted to speak with anger or feeling, as always, she was still unable to do so. And she didn’t have such a relationship of trust with Rurik that her voice was passionate and enthusiastic. Thus, the man received only a cold, emotionless, and military tone from the woman. Although Ingrid didn't even hope the man understood why she wanted the end of the war so much.

"It is so sad that hatred has blinded you and you no longer see the reality, only what you want to see…"

The assassin said the man's words. Now she allowed some grief to sound in her voice. Meanwhile, she hit the mask on the man's face with the sword grip. As the man caught her arm, she turned her head toward the woman. Under her helmet / mask, she also looked at the man with complete indifference. Felt nothing of anger or hatred for her. Not even contempt or pity. This was not surprising after she was unable to hate Runi either, nor after the woman killed her husband.

"I just want everyone to focus on the real opponent and not stick their heads in the sand, Lord Executor!"

The electricity hit her then, Ingrid moaned loudly in pain for a moment. For a moment, thanks to that, she felt alive. It was not spiritual pain, but real. Saw the lightsaber approaching her side, part of her wishing it would reach and end, but the greater half would have found it humiliating. She moved instinctively, using her strength which was greater than human to try with full strength to knee him in the groin, and at the same time try to head-butted the man. Even if she succeeded, the lightsaber reached her side at this point, though the armour protected her from being cut in half by Rurik, she still felt the heat of the blade and the sting left a more severe burn under the armour, which would only get worse if the stab / cut continues and the armour does not last forever.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

T h e _ R e n e g a d e
Task //: Seek and Destroy
Tenebrae Armor / Hand Of God / BH 'Durin' Charric Blaster Pistol / Light Saber
Allies : Kascalion Giedfield
Enemies : Ravraa Vyshraal Lucien Dooku TBD
Night Call

​

"You are not my servant, but my student. I will teach you, lead you, and even occasionally command you, but never forget that you are Sith. 'Sith' means perfection in my tongue. Individualism is the epitome of perfection. You will rise to heights many Sith only ever dream of, this much I have foreseen."

Avernus would turn, and begin to walk back towards his ship gesturing for the newly proclaimed Darth Sybila to follow him.

"There are those who will find your title an affront to their own, considering you are but an apprentice. They will challenge it."

I was told by others to do thus. Conscripts laid down a suppressing wave of plasma cutting wild paths through the jungle with their fire. The seed of battle ran down her lips, Sybila’s teeth were clenched so tightly she caught her own cheek in the act and blood pooled in her mouth. Canisters and flashes filled the bush and the woman turned her head even if the visor would polarize and reflect-she felt a nauseating wave pass over her as a series of grenades popped.

Her digit brushed the switch on the saber, killing the crimson blade to better conceal herself.

Consciousness bled as the blaster fire ricochet and tore through the underbrush of the jungle. These Auxiliary weren’t bred for the same type of warfare, Sybila admired it and found it laughable but she swallowed any sound threatening to gurgle form her throat. Her helmet turned back to the fallen soldier of Ravraa’s caliber in an instant-in one breath she knew something was coming.

She hadn’t actually meant to kill him, moving on instinct trapped behind the predator’s eye and when she had arrived-he had been the victim. Virtue was not convenient at the time and she swallowed the copper, a pain radiated from behind her teeth. She couldn’t tear her eyes from the corpse-infernal orbs seeking reason as a pressure mounted at her brow and her stomach churned. Iron Sun or not-

“Ravraa” she whispered, through the unseen stretch. A gentle prod, seeking the Togruta-though it was all a means to an end. They were just all tools, weapons in life and war.

<”Sybila! Are you cowering-”> Khos voice dragged nails across the audio, the woman was there weaving through the bush, blades cutting through and rampaging.

<”Silence Khos! We can not fight through an army-”> Lyra snapped-her voice distorted across the communications. As if there was room to argue who led-

Her visor tilted up, branches raining down in a fury of flames at the back only hundreds of feet away.

The fires were eating up the canopy above them now, the smoke in the forest providing a thick cover. The woman tempered herself. Above all there was no time to debate, to understand-guilt it was guilt and it rested on the tip of her tongue like any logical answer. Sybila inhaled all haughtiness, the thrill of the kill vanishing, rising like a lumbering shadow, her back dragged up the tree she sought shelter behind.

“Ravraa your line will be decimated” Sybila uttered again, another ripple in the force followed. Khos’ image. The minx with two red blades filtered through her mind and she pushed them along, there was too much to explain.

<”Sybila you wretched-”>

Her gauntlet slammed in to the side of the helmet purposely, the shock reloaded the back light across the screen and static filled the comms. Sybila’s eyes blinked several time as she refocused from the silencing impact. She only needed to lead the soldier by the nose just enough and she drew in a shaky breath, wetting her lips with the blood on her tongue. He’d fall in line easily enough. She had tried to explain it to him once, fear bred a strong hatred but the two traded faces and meaning.

The Conscripts were another issue alone.

Ravraa’s fury in the face of the Sith was the beating heart of the Order and it stood out in the field, brushing close to his mind space. Sybila remembered the impressions each had made in the Force. If she searched long enough through memory and haze, even the Imperator had carved some place out once upon a time-

<”Squad fall left double time, shake the Auxiliary off and double around when the armor has passed and continue to target-”> Sybila ordered, mapping their objective across the radar-the firefight dragging out hopelessly.

<”Squad disregard this coward! We are cutting through-”> Khos seethed in static, pity she could still hear the woman.

<”Our Lord Maledictus awaits you soldiers, squad fall left double time. Fire and maneuver, I will join you shortly and bring up the flank. If we die, we’re useless,”> Sybila continued to speak, darring as she orverid the woman’s string of insults. There was a break in the firefight and Sybila desperately tracked the map-

In one breath Sybila dashed from around the tree through rising flora and bush that made the sliver of no man’s land. The radar tracked the slow movement as the Conscripts drew back but the woman held her breath. Her saber was kept close in hand, traded to her left as she moved another piece in to place. Under the burning canopy, past the flash muzzle of cannon fire of armor beyond the infantry they had sprung-Sybila hunted.

The woman could hear the shouts of soldiers and Sybila, felt the echo of the good soldier, where he stood now burned brightly in her mind’s eye..

<“Khos if you want us to charge through the line, you’ll need to cut me down first. Respect your betters child,”> Sybila taunted, plying the disgust to herself like armor.

<”Sybila you will know your pla-”>

Her movements were deliberate, cutting south through the fallen tree-racing through the fire fight toward the Sith. The peppering blaster fire grazed her shoulder and filled her visor-Sybila staggered, knee hitting the dirt as she propelled herself back even as flesh was rend. The woman felt the snap of rage permeate across the dense forest, could feel Khos moving now toward her. Sybila screamed from behind clenched teeth picking herself back up, there wasn’t enough time as she vaulted over fallen tree and obstacle in her path. Her leg jarred as it hit the dirt, threatening to slip out from beneath her. The sound of the Auxiliary was all around, shouts and-

<”SYBILA-”>

“Ravraa-do not shoot me. That’s an order from your commanding officer” she snarled across the sea of violence, inflicting the order upon his own mind. Khos, the woman was going to die today, the first of many grievous insults, the pain would be laid to rest with the rest of Generis. Then maybe Maledictus would understand she was not to be trifled with.

The Force worked in a mysterious way, bringing her this far after all. Her boots thundered across the uneven terrain, bush dragging and picking at the hem of her robe, night invisible in the smoke screen from the bush fire. From the grey haze of wildfire, Sybila emerged-staggering a halt. One hand raised, catching herself on the gnarled twisted tree. She was chasing two strings across the field. The ground quaked from a distant artillery drop.

Sybila’s visor fell upon the nook of a fallen tree and brush, she found him standing there. The woman’s servo came up in one swift movement-smoking flooding her lungs as she pulled off the helmet. It burned terribly, nigh unbreathable and her eyes watched. Sybila tilted the helm in hand and faced the Togruta in all her shame. A glimpse before she threw herself aside under a halved tree; propelled by the Force.

Plasma still hung in the air, eating away at the bush and she’d not end up shot a second time. She only needed Khos to play in to the hand now, glancing over her shoulder as she steeled herself. Her servo brushed the dark mark that had eaten through the metallic robes, probing the brunt flesh across her upper leg; groaning and yanking her hand away. Coughing seized her frame and Sybila shoved the helmet back on gulping in deep breath as the ventilators cycled through the brief seal break.

"Lyra."

Lyra's presence was unexpected. It took every ounce of discipline to not leap from the building and dash off into the direction he felt her presence in. A step forwards, and down the length of the building he went. "You're here...aren't you."

“Yes I am..” she answered, earnestly though startled. What are you going to do about it? Sybila clawed at the tree then reeling-eyes the size of saucers as the boyish presence, stalwart drove like claws through her skull. His face passed like a wisp lost only the shape on the other side of a glass pane.

When the woman whipped around to to keep watch on her own six Sybila found herself staring at her own reflection; dried blood flecking her chin. Her servo raising to pick away at the carnage. On the other side was the shape of the jungle still-the battle for Generis. Golden plasma ripped apart and splintered trees passing painstakingly by. Yet she was not. She was wading through a pervial river, slowed and weighed down by the waters-

Sybila pressed herself up to the glass in a single stroke, the veins that ran through it like ice and she was barely treading water. With every breath the cut sleet fogged more and more. What had happened? She was on the wrong side of the barrier, she would hide behind the clarity of the other. This..there had been a word for it but the woman had never pursued the study.

It was the place where she had fled to-to witness memories with such a keen fascination, but never once did she have to feel the echoes of the days past. The liquid blue line that accompanied the sessions only fed the addiction, her consciousness had built this palce. Oh how the woman loathed it, she only ever acted on emotion; now that was the worst drug. Yet from the sterile environment bred the confines of Credence by Kascalion Giedfield she saw the strong circuit board that was simply precision; her efficiency she had so wanted.

It just got lost in the noise but she used every dredged memory that wasn’t lost in the fog, and Sybila learned from them. The woman was trapped here, her servo dragging down the icy wall-the last time she had seen Lucien was in the streets of Bastion. What was the meaning behind it? He had raced through a fucking city undersiege alone to find her. Sybila’s turned, her back pressed up to the glass-no it was ice. The cold was seeping into her limbs. She had to remove the absurdity from the memory, but it..it was surrounding her engulfing her. Sybila looked down trying to find a grasp of reality, the feeling-

“Dooku get out of my head-” she hissed.

It was unconditional. Sybila tore her gaze away from the milky expanse at her feet that she was seemingly suspended over. Clicking her tongue the sound echoed across the space and she..was at the mercy of the other side. Had she felt it before? The memories rushed and churned, ebbing and flowing until a single cry drew her gaze. Unconditional-her head shook slowly the churn of regret, the desperate clawing at the cell floor unfolded from the white expanse. A single hoarse cry shook from her lungs. Sybila’s body hit the ashen concrete that rose from it, caught in the maelstrom of ice and fire. Unconditional was the only thing she felt when she looked at her boys.

She had placed them so far from her mind, Kascalion’s interest in them was dangerous. The woman’s chest heaved for breath, he would not find them-she could not find them. Her children, a screech tore from her lips until no breath was left to fuel it in the glass room. Pity the fool who looked their way, pity the fool who had failed her-

Sybila realized she had drowned, on the wretched wasted world of snow. The woman followed the trail slowly, fingers following a black string. Weightless in hand, Sybila dragged herself to her feet-walking again and her boots took her down a darken path. Lyra stared down..she didn’t need to traverse far she had already come to the grim realization. She should be dead, once again. She remained there in limbo, a festering disgust birthed. The Will of the Force..? It could go kindly fuck itself and she turned away from the stone cut stairs. She had driven herself to the last breath to bring the monster to heel and reached out to the glass wall. Maledictus still continued to live-disbelief was dressed in a hopeless sorrow that dragged her down by her ankles and echoed off the cold walls all around. It wasn’t fair and the roar of emotions lapped at her, the tide was coming back in.

It had to stop, her body froze then-floating in the faceted space. She had to hide it. If she didn’t then came the scalpel peeling something back, they had paid such close attention to her hands. Then came the clamp turning the bones in. Her nails had just grown back in-Sybila reared her head back, shaking. The soldiers of the Auxiliary, any fool caught in the skirmish. They’d only witness the woman’s body falling violently without purpose, lost in the Jungle, erratically head whipping around like some poltergeist.

The woman’s eyes stung and she tasted salt on her lips, Lucien was just trying to do the right thing but-she was being hunted! Sybilla’s muffled voice breached her ears, shrill and torn apart and rend by the episode. The sound reverberated off the confines of armor, and it drew her back. Dragging nails down her own scalp and fanning the fires in her chest. Lyra heaved silently, head whipping back and forth like a viper as she sought out Khos through the haze.

“Lucien,” Lyra whispered through the unseen bond that stretched, his presence the beacon of the mariner. It wouldn’t matter what she had done, she wasn’t alone. The fear was stripped away to it’s marrow if only for a second.

A tunnel of black surrounded her vision as she was dragged back and thrusted into her body; finding strength in her legs beneath her-hands raised to steady herself. The canopy spun and the woman raised her servo as a shiver dropped down her spine. Her body whipped around chasing the dark phantom’s movements through the burning trees, a looming tidal wave crashing against her senses. She spied the cut of lightsabers through smoke and bush first.. Her eyes dialated and Sybila braced herself as the Khos burst from the undergrowth, arcing through the air with a delicate precision- crimson blades drawn.

The chrome hand snapped open, metal threatening to buckle as her servo cut through the air. The key turned and a heavy lock fell and it surged forth, mingled with breath and mind. A single burst of energy exploded from her palm, the shockwave enveloped the area spanning hundreds of feet; rippling through the air. It passed through every crack line from her person to the trees, and punched through the chest stilling all movement. At the center of it all-dangling in the air Khos flailed trapped in her web.

Sybila sucked in a deep breath from behind her baring teeth. A low groan filling the tree grove and ominous crack of wood. The smoke fled, the percussion vanquishing the heavy shield of burning masses in an instant revealing all. The woman enclosed a fist, tempering the stream of raw energy that enclosed around Khos. She had seized the woman's body mid air in a single strike.

Something darker lingered in the undertow behind Sybila but the intoxicating spell of control-it was too much for her to turn her back on. From the tips of her servo to her shoulder shook, Sybila bore the weight of the entire woman and the Sith’s own will that resisted to hold; writhing. Sybila moved then in a single flourish of long limb, turning around and slamming Khos down across the jungle floor through tree and brush. The vortex of power ebbed away as she discarded the apprentice. A cloud of dirt followed in the woman's graceless fall, an ugly crack sounding over the blaster fire alone.

Sybila took one step back to admire the work, head tilting with morbid fascination as she looked at the trail blazed by a broken body; a single noise of revelation sounding from her lips.

 

[Kaska Arden]

D A N C EㅤT H EㅤS P E A R S
R A K A T A NㅤT E M P L E
G E N E R I S

Lightsaber | Belmont's Resolve | JSTP Armour | Uproar Blaster

A L L I E SㅤG Aㅤ/ㅤN I O
A Bunch of People

E N E M I ESㅤT S E
Enyo Typhos

The headbutt was the definition of mutually assured destruction.

Phrik upon phrik, her helmet crumpled slightly from the blow that left her reeling and disorientated. Distracting her from the pain that was her side if only by virtue of the agony that was now her forehead.
Her vision fractured on impact; the left lens of her helmet splintering into half a dozen images as the damage caused a spiderwebbing series of cracks to blossom into place. Her HUD sputtering and popping before cutting out and vanishing entirely, casting her world into a pitch black darkness as the damage to her helmet exceeded the nanoparticles ability to maintain functionality.

Blind, addled and quite likely bleeding if the hot, wet sensation currently pooling down the side of her face was anything to go by, it was only on pure instinct and the grace of the Force that she brought her lightsaber down in time to deflect an unseen blow from her attacker. As it was, the kinetically overcharged impact of her blade against the other woman's catching her flatfooted, knocking her back several paces as she tried to scrabble to find a sense of balance. Whatever opening she might have created with the headbutt was squandered in the mean time.

Her helmet seal gave a snap hiss as she disengaged it manually, ripping the damaged item from her head and throwing it carelessly against the wall. Her movements feeling distant - disjointed - in the moment, as if moving underwater. Her features a messy array of sweat covered frown lines, contorted by pain and accentuated with a crimson red that flowed freely down the side of her face. Her side throbbing in time with her head.

"The kark is your head made out of," She breathed, lending the battle a voice for the first time. Shaking her head to rid it of the haze; regretting it almost immediately as her vision once again threatened to multiply. She fell back a few more paces to give herself further room to recover. Drawing on the wellspring of force that lay within the ring dangling from a chain around her neck. Using the power there to sharpen her awareness and dull the exhaustion that was rapidly settling in once more as Dagon's benediction faded.

Possible concussion, skewered, and slightly blinded on the left side by the blood, the blunt force Sardun approach really wasn't doing her any favors at the moment. At least her opponent had taken some damage. A mess of what she assumed was cybernetics her reward for that stupid stunt.

She clicked her tongue and changed it up, bringing her saber up and around while falling into a more conservative defensive stance. Soresu over her more favored Niman. The smaller, less athletic requirements allowing her to compensate for the restrictions the wound to her side placed upon her. Her formerly dominant left now a weakness. Hopefully Dagon, Violet and the rest of the group were fairing better than she was. That machine needed to be destroyed.

She let out a slow, steadying breath and gestured for her opponent to advance with a slight flick of her blade. "When you are ready."

 

[Darth Daiara]

Objective 1: The Station
Enemy: Lucien Dooku | closed

Spoiler: The Story

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER // WARLORD OF NIRAUAN
OBJECTIVE I // Darth Daiara
[VIBES] | [DRIP] | [LEGION]

---

---

The New Imperial Order had surged forth from its nest once more. No longer was it poised to strike back , strictly in defense of it life and those who lived beneath its banner. The game had changed the New Imperials into a vicious tiger that could challenge the galactic superpowers head-to-head, and once more it ventured forth into the territory of the Sith. A salient was desired to allow their forces to continue their onslaught against the tyrants of Dromund Kaas, and so the 173rd were requested to accompany the Imperator's armies once more.

He owed it to the people of Nirauan, if not the New Imperial Order itself. Though he'd never admit to Tavlar that he respected the man for what he'd done, Lucien had showed it through his actions-- most of the time, anyway. Generis would be no different from those others, despite the fact that he currently wasn't at the vanguard of a formation, or dropping down from the skies with his Legion.

The Myrmidons had been deployed onto the world en masse just hours before the invasion of the planet had commenced. His Captains and their respective companies scattered across the planet to tackle tertiary objectives elsewhere, typically the kind which left the rank-and-file dead to a man.

While his Legion were kept occupied with sowing havoc through the Sith's ranks, Lucien would assume a secondary command alongside the Galidraani Commanders at the head of the operation. Officially he should've been leading men towards the facility, but his fellow commanders seemed more than willing to do the hard work on their own.

And as it wasn't his Leigon being thrown at the facility, he chose to remain compliant at the rear lines and monitor the battle through his comms. For once he was alone, given the state that the battle of Dantooine had left his companions. More than half of them had been lost, while the other half were still in recovery. It was a decision that left him open, but Lucien had never encountered a Sith who proved an opportunist on the field of battle. Then again, he'd never been in the rear-lines either.

With a bit of luck and surprise, perhaps even he was in for a fun time.

Willan Tal | DECEASED Erskine Barran | Rurik Fel | @Warposters
​

​

Objective 2: The Station
Enemy: Lucien Dooku | closed


Aradia was done playing war games.

She was done with front lines and trenches and pleading. She had gone to Bastion a girl-- frightened and untested. She had walked away a little more refined-- A little wiser, a little quicker, a little better at holding her own. The jedi were unrelenting in their assults. She should thank them. In every loss was a lesson. Every break was chance to regrow stronger.

She sat braced inside of the station, no longer that girl with something to fear. There was no longer a master to fail. No longer an empire to serve.

Aradia had severed herself from everything. In that solidarity, she had found strength.

She heard the rhythmic fall of boots through the walls of the dark closet and knew what it meant. Infiltration. This station was a strategic command point. She had spent weeks studying the Imperials' habits. She knew they would utilize the war as a chance to overwhelm other more vulnerable points. The Imperials were always thinking forward. They were always laying down the foundation for their next attack. Aradia didn't delude herself, this wasn't stopping at Gravlex.

Stopping them from controlling this station could define so much.

She opened the maintenance room cupboard, her lean legs sliding out as she crept slowly to her feet. Like a spider. It was unlikely they could hear her from so far away, but she moved with caution regardless, her ears pricked for movement beyond the door.

Silence. Just her heart in her ears, erratic and distracting. She let out a heavy breath and let the door woosh open.

Could one person stop a war? She was prepared to find out.

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER // WARLORD OF NIRAUAN
OBJECTIVE I // Darth Daiara
[VIBES] | [DRIP] | [LEGION]

---

---

It was easy to interpret his apathy, for an extreme lack of carelessness instead. He'd crossed plenty of battlefields by his lonesome before, but from his position near the Galidraani's rear lines there was an eerie sanguine to offset the combat in the distance. He could feel the violence permeating through the air, even from where he stood. It permeated through the air, carried by the winds of the force until it settled somewhere uncomfortably within his psyche. Lucien had forgotten the feeling of being on a battlefield alone, it seemed. He'd always maintained the company of his companions, relying on their presence just as much as they did his.

But Dantooine left his companions in shambles.

And the war effort continued on, leaving his men no time to mourn their fallen properly. His Legion dispersed where they were needed, and this time he was forced to watch them from afar. Reduced to receiving sitreps and delivering the occasional order, Lucien could only feel their struggle from afar. The malaise would eventually draw him back forth to the Brigade's Command Post, once more resuming his duties as the sole Commander on station whilst the Galidraani's were down range with the majority of their men. What few reserves were kept in the backlines were spread thin as it was, and to no surprise the same would ring true for the occupants of the primary headquarters as well.

He entered to a number of raised heads,, quickly waving off their salutes and allowing them to return to their posts. The understaffed HQ had an abundance of work, and a general lack of formalities was the typical way that he ran his own Legion. He lingered for only a few minutes, his attention returning to another incoming sitrep from one of his Legion's captains. It was a casualty report; only a few losses were sustained so far, but each man loss was a brother who couldn't be easily replaced.

Luc sighed audibly as he ascended up the stairs, cutting the link off and pulling the earbud out of his ear. He was heading for the rooftop to get a better view of the frontline, while also keeping close to their HQ in the off-chance that things went sour. He came to a brief halt upon reaching the top floor of the building, tilting his head in the direction of a room at the end of the hall.

He turned off the staircase briefly, but stopped in his tracks as his focus remained locked upon what was beneath that door. He projected his thoughts into the room, loosening the concealment that diminished his presence into the force. It was veritably a shot in the dark, or rather he could've been misinterpreting what he perceived through the force. "Could be nothing." He mused out loud, bringing his foot back onto the staircase and ascending up to the top.

"But it could be something." He continued, crossing through the doors on the rooftop and moving to the guard railing at the edge of the roof. The view provided him with a surprisingly clear picture of the situation at the front. Bodies were stacking up on both sides, but the Galidraanis were a group who were known to get the job done at all costs. He could do nothing but wait and see what the results would be., and if need be, intervene on his own accord.

But for now he'd continue doing the former, given the feeling, or rather the presence that he just moments before. It was an immediate concern for him to deal with, and if his senses were not deceiving him, potentially an opportunity to serve the New Imperial Order in a more direct way as well. With his presence no longer masked, Luc stood out amidst the sea of sentients who lacked any presence at all within the force.

The ball was moved into their court, ceding them the advantage, or so it seemed.



Willan Tal | DECEASED Erskine Barran | Rurik Fel @Warposters
​

​

Objective 1: The Station
Enemy: Lucien Dooku | closed


The building was already lost.

It wasn't what Aradia was expecting, but she could sense it now. Countless imperial bodies controlled the sith facility, all inconsequential to her attentions.

Until one wasn't. She paused in the doorway, her head turning towards the signature that sang at the other end of the hall. Ice hit her veins, her throat tightening as she considered her options. She had come to keep this facility out of imperial hands, reclaiming this station alone was fool's job. She hissed in frustration, kicking the door jam.

She had spent weeks trying to outwit the imperials, and here she was, rendered as nothing more than a girl with backpack.

And that's why she brought back up plans. She shoved off the door jam, her pack bouncing against her back as she jogged after the force signature.

She unslung her pack, ignoring the siren of energy walking further away. It called to her-- the jedi taunted her, she could sense it. She did not bite, making further effort to smother out her spite as she pried open a door panel and jammed an electronic bug over the exposed wires. All her efforts to learn Mechu Deru and she could barely influence basic circuitry. That was fine, the driod would do the work for her. The jedi wanted to chill on the roof?

The door hissed, hydraulics releasing as the mechanisms that would open them fried.

He could stay there now.

A tinge of a desperation caught in her gut, her eyes tossing over her shoulder. How long would it take for him to realize she had trapped him? What good could she do in that time? She turned on her heels and ran away from the roof hatch. She skittered down the hall. A door stood open, exposing two white-booted feet resting atop a console.

Aradia slid in, the pin of a gas bomb resting in her hand. "Hello, boys."

The door closed behind her. She looked to the air vents overhead.

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER // WARLORD OF NIRAUAN
OBJECTIVE I // Darth Daiara
[VIBES] | [DRIP] | [LEGION]

---

---

A smirk raised to his lips. A few moments passed before anything of interest had happened. The bait had not been took, and the intruder would instead elect to drawing the Jedi into an environment of their choosing. He expected the individual to come for his head, if the opportunity was given. Most of the Sith he'd encountered were generally of that mindset, but in hindsight it was a generalization that quickly proved to be false. This one was cunning, or at the least they were level-headed enough to not muster to the challenge that the Jedi had put forth.

They had even locked the Jedi onto the roof through means that weren't in his forte to comprehend. Annoying as it was, it would only deter him from getting into the building temporarily. Meanwhile there was chaos being sewn into the HQ beneath his feet. The intruder had released gas into the building, catching the occupants off-guard in many cases. Helmets were off against regulation, a common trait seen among the Stormtroopers at the rear, and with it their immunity to the gas being taken away in an instant.

Lungs filled with fire, just as their eyes began to well up from the burning sensation that blinded them completely. Pandemonium ensued in their wake, something which Lucien found rather interesting as he inserted the earbud in and regretted it immediately. He pressed a finger to his ear, muting their frantic calls in order to respond with one of his own.

<"All personnel inside the building, head out immediately. Regroup outside and rendezvous at the secondary HQ until this...threat has been dealt with.">

He stepped across the guard railing, resting his arms against the cold metal as he paused in his tracks with his eyes focused into the horizon. Something called to him-- someone whose presence was so familiar to him that it could not be avoided even if he wanted to in the first place. He reached out through the force, singling out the woman with a hand extending out towards the horizon, trailing a path through the sky. His hand shut into a fist, and with it a message being sent out through the winds of the force.

"Lyra."

Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt 's presence was unexpected. It took every ounce of discipline to not leap from the building and dash off into the direction he felt her presence in. A step forwards, and down the length of the building he went. "You're here...aren't you."

His descent was slowed by the force, and he touched the ground a few moments later without as much as scuffing his pants. A growing collection of Stormtroopers pooled on the outside of the building, waiting for the rest of their comrades to funnel out of the building. Luc walked ahead of the group, stepping past the retreating troopers and heading back into the building on his own. He was only spared from the burning properties of the gas through the application of controlling his breath with the use of the force involved.

He scanned the now deserted floor of the HQ, lowering his arms to his side but still not bothering to unclip the lightsaber hanging off his belt. He idled in the center of the room, leaving himself open once more in that nonchalant manner he carried himself.

Luc scanned the room once more, then sat himself down on a nearby chair with his feet being kicked up onto the console. "I'd thank you for not leaving any bodies, but I really don't get your angle, stranger." He called out to only other occupant of the now abandoned Command Post.

"...But how about we skip the games and chat face-to-face."




Willan Tal | DECEASED Erskine Barran | Rurik Fel @Warposters
​

​

Objective 1: The Station
Enemy: Lucien Dooku | closed


Aradia dropped from the vent overhead, her lithe form landing without a sound. A rush of wind lashed out around her, dispersing the heavy gas that had collected like smog along the space. She straightened, the sharp features of her young face leveling to hold his gaze.

There was no mistaking her for what she was, the kiss of the darkside rippling off her form.

"Jedi."

Was her expressionless greeting, her mind reeling ahead. The most obvious step would be to just leave-- but then the imperials would retake the station and resume their war efforts unhindered. She didn't want to place herself in an unmovable situration. Up until the evacuation, it hadn't looked good. Her nostrils flared at the reminder of the risk, the girl desperate to maintain the upper hand.

She could handle one jedi, she told herself. Serving as a distraction would just have to do. She took a step to the side, arching towards the walls as she held his gaze.

"This isn't your station."

Like that had ever stopped them before.

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER // WARLORD OF NIRAUAN
OBJECTIVE I // Darth Daiara
[VIBES] | [DRIP] | [LEGION]

---

---

Luc smirked at the woman, spinning around in the chair to face the direction of the voice that followed her appearance into the room. He leaned back into his palms, his fingers having laced comfortably on the back of his head. "Well, yeah, you're right about that." Luc shot back, tilting his eyes towards the woman. "...But I guess no is accurate as well~" The words followed through an exaggerated yawn, his lips curling right back into a smirk once it was finished.

Despite revealing herself to Lucien, he made no overtly move to display the hostility that should've existed between existential enemies within the force. Instead his eyes followed the woman's movements lazily, watching her intently as she moved towards the wall, maintaining a safe distance between herself and the Jedi sitting comfortably at the console.

A moment of silence filled the void.

He sucked on his teeth, breaking the tension by letting loose an audible breath of air. He swung his legs down from the console, pushing himself up to his feet. Luc crossed his arms over his chest, taking a brazen step towards the center of the room, his eyes still locked upon the dangerous woman across from him. "It seems as if you've got me cornered-- assuming that's your intent. But i'm a little surprised that your superiors elected to send just you into the heart of the enemy's camp."

He chuckled, pulling his arms apart and giving the woman an exaggerated shrug. "If it was me in your shoes, I would've killed everyone in this room while the Jedi was stuck on the roof and unaware of the situation. Seems very... uncharacteristic of one of your ilk-- but don't get me wrong, i'm not complaining."

Luc's visage dropped into a cold stare for a moment. "Setting aside those corrupted eyes and that pretty face, though-" His hands dropped down to his sides, but still his weapon remained out of reach of his hand. "I'd rather we take this outside-- but the ball's in your court, sweetheart."

Willan Tal DECEASED Erskine Barran | Rurik Fel @Warposters
​

​

Objective 1: The Station
Enemy: Lucien Dooku | closed


"Setting aside those corrupted eyes--"

Aradia's hand twitch towards her face, stopped short and then redirected to tuck a fly away behind her ear. Her eyes weren't that corrupted. Just specks of gold starting to faintly circle a sea of blue.

Right?

Her gaze gaze on her reflection on the screen, her throat bobbing as his approach snapped her attention back to him. She held her ground, the weight of her saber a comfort as she took another arcing step towards the wall. Every step forward he would take would be matched with one of her own, the girl making a slow but obvious movement around the wall.

"Well, that's what makes us different." she started, her tone matter of fact. She could feel the coying tease that dripped off his words, not unlike a cat lazily playing with its mouse. He spoke of being trapped, but for a moment she questioned just which of them was they prey.

Goosebumps riddled her arms.

"Unlike you, I don't kill just because I can." She reached up, yanking the exposed circuitry from a panel she had set up while waiting for his arrival. His senses were correct. This was a trap.

Every door in the building slammed down, tons of steel closing off and locking. The evacuated storm troopers wouldn't be able to come to his aid even if they had orders to. The only way this station was opening was if one of them let it.

"I kill when I have to." Her saber snapped to her hand, the red length hissing to life.

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER // WARLORD OF NIRAUAN
OBJECTIVE I // Darth Daiara
[VIBES] | [DRIP] | [LEGION]

---

---

Lucien stepped forwards once more, trailing her own gait with a slow saunter of his own, all the while ensuring his eyes would never leave her sight in case she decided to put her cunning to use. Brazen as he was, it was clear that not a hint of fear lingered beneath his playful gaze. Even as the building entered lockdown, separating the two individuals from the outside world as a whole.

His attention only briefly shifted upon the activation of the trap, his head tilting away for just long enough to view the display as it happened. His lips curled even further, a devilish grin taking its place upon his face as he refocused his eyes back onto Aradia.

Another step curved inwards towards the woman, and he continued on the path that brought him closer to the woman's bubble. He raised a eyebrow by the time the last few words had exited his lips. "Interesting to hear you say that." Luc commented, a thumb being nonchalantly jabbed in the direction of the plasmatic weapon that now hissed to life within her hands. "See I thought that you Sith were pretty uniform in your desire to kill for the sake of pleasure, power and all that other good stuff that comes with your ideology~"

His shoulders jerked upwards with a shrug, falling back down to normal in unison with his hands entering the comfort of his jacket pockets. Again he continued forwards, moving ever so closer to the woman, seemingly unfazed by the sight of the lightsaber she now wielded. His own weapon remained clipped to his belt, lazily swinging with his movements, tapping against his pants.

"Oh don't tell me--" Luc leaned forwards, centering his gaze onto her at a distance which now proved rather dangerous if her desire was to remove his head. "...You're different, huh."

He chuckled, straightening himself out and finishing with a final step that left him rather exposed, given the circumstances. "I'm not like the other Jedi either, y'know. I'm sure we could reach some common ground, especially since you've up and decided to lock yourself in here with me." He winked at her playfully. "You've got a name, or do you want me to just keep callin' you Sith."


Willan Tal DECEASED Erskine Barran | Rurik Fel @Warposters
​

​

The saber was held steady, its intense heat threating to undo his clothing with each step closer he took. She did not lower it. He could impale himself where he stood for all she cared.

Aradia had seen far more frightening things than him.

"You've got a name, or do you want me to just keep callin' you Sith."

She cocked a brow. "Well, that's what I am." She quipped evenly, not taking the bait as he played games with her character. She raised her chin, unaffected by what he thought of her. It wouldn't change anything, anyway.

"You look like all the others to me." She gave the wires another hard yank, electricity shooting out from the panel. It was without a doubt fried. "Ignorant." She took a step to the right, her legs crossing like figure eights. The next panel was already exposed, a spider droid stuck over it.

"Cocky."

Another step, the saber insuring the jedi remain at length at every moment. She knew her weak spots. Her heart pounded in her chest, old lessons still fresh. She'd be keeping her guard up.

"Out for blood. Remind me again, how that makes Jedi so different from my peers."

Keep him talking. Her eyes scanned him over, features softening to contempt. "Maybe that's what I call you then. Sith." Her back hit the other wall, the droid tangling in her orange locks.

"I mean, when the name fits."

 

[Tantalus]

TITAN SQUADRON
TIE/VX VANGUARD
ENGAGING: Seela Leini

​

"Karabast!"

Howlrunner pulled up sharply out of his dive as soon as both sensors and pilot intuition told him the Sith interceptor was no longer on his tail. So consumed with out flying his enemy Colonel Tantalus had allowed them a clear run on Dragoon Squadron's exposed rear flank. He performed a turn and burn maneuver which temporarily overwhelmed his inertial compensators and slammed him back into his harness. Screaming through the void at chase speeds a glance at his life support showed a heart rate spike of almost ten beats per minute.

"Clever," Tantalus exhaled when the pressure eased off his chest, "But never turn your back on a wounded predator."

Now aligned with the interceptor's attack vector Titan Leader struggled to maintain pace. They were faster and already had a few seconds head start. He might as well have been parsecs away. Grim realization dawned when he saw a chance. Sith interceptors were fast, but New Imperial TIE Bruisers were not. They would have to cut thrust just long enough to take a clear shot. That was his moment to strike.

"You will be remembered as a hero of the Empire."

Consigning the last bomber pilot in formation to oblivion, Tantalus waited for the crucial moment of annihilation when his prey would pass right through his Vanguard's scopes. Laser fire overwhelmed the Imperial bomber's deflector screens and Howlrunner made his move. A salvo erupted from his elite fighter's rapid fire heavy laser cannons, painting the black canvas of space with bright emerald streaks.

 

[Zaavik Perl]

RAKATAN TEMPLE // GENERIS
PRESENT TIME // GENERISFALL

「SEEK AND DESTROY」
​

"My my my, come to other people's homes, break into their private chambers-​

Zaavik squinted slightly, eyes darting around in an attempt to keep track of the unseen presence. Private chambers? Home? Either this was a wry attempt at being coy, or the briefing missed the part about remnant Rakata lurking around. The voice certainly didn't sound Rakatan, not that Zaavik knew for sure what a Rakatan sounded like, but he always imagined a certain gravely quality to their voices. Likely the former in that case, although it felt a rather odd approach, even for a Sith.

-and try to shoot them all without ever saying hello? Oh how the times have changed, I remember when Jedi used to have manners!"​

"Tch," Zaavik clicked his tongue, pointed a scowl in what he assumed as the direction of the stranger. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'll be sure to apologize before I send your teeth out the back of your skull to make up for it." His finger squeezed the trigger, sending another blaster bolt wide that fruitlessly met a wall, black scorch mark in tow. Eyeing down the sight, he followed the faintest shimmer along the wall for several more shots. All misses.

"Raya," he accosted firmly. "Remember what I taught you before we went to Ilum? Consider this the hands-on lesson." He reached back and shoved the blaster back into a holster before seizing the hilt of his saber with both hands, holding it out in front of him in a familiar, tilted stance. "Just do as I do, we've got this." If he was trying to sound reassuring, his focused monotone didn't do his efforts any favors.

Two pangs hit his psyche all at once. Pincer directions of danger comprehending with a flash through his reflexes. "Behind you!" he called out to Raya, hoping to alert her of the incoming sediment. His knees braced, elbows and wrists twisting to catch the oncoming strike. Plasma popped and hissed as blade hit blade, he buckled into the opposing momentum to dampen it before pushing back. Emerald plasma flourished overhead as it escaped the catch, arcing downward to his best estimation of the assailant's obscured shoulder.



ALLIES: GA / NIO: Auraya Irath-Ur
ENEMIES: TSE: Ariealla Vareldi

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

POST VI
THE_CLAYMORE

1st GALIDRAANI ARMOURED-VOLUNTEER BRIGADE
2nd BATTALION,"THE BLUE-HEARTS"

OBJECTIVE 1: Generis Base | ORCC

ALLIES (NIO/GA): Rurik Fel Djorn Bline Willan Tal Lucien Dooku
Konrad Bolter Jax Sloane Loros Kalaric Nima Appw'rii Halketh
Jiosha Relawny Rika Hiro Don Belkora Arten Jinn Sol Stazi

ENEMIES (TSE): Marimax Mortui SF-3335 Eira Dwynwen The Amalgam
Darth Daiara

CALLSIGN: BLUE-HEART ALPHA

Custom Blaster-Pistol | Basket-Hilted Vibrosword Claymore

BARRAN, KALARIC & SLOANE: PART II

'Why else do you think the Lord-Commander let us take extra? Use it to cool the smoothbores, you karking idiot!'

<"Yes, Staff-Sergeant! Just like Bastion then! C-C Fourteen out!">

'An' fix yer cover, Bryant! If ah can see ye stickin' oot like a sare thumb, then that walker can-'

Interrupted by the bright explosion of the Cataphract at the far front-right of the loose horseshoe-formation, the temporary tank-leader couldn't help but throw the earpiece of his comms device at the inner-wall of his tank as the Lord-Commander watched on from inside his ACV, drinking from his hipflask in silence as the dismayed Staff-Sergeant swore obscenities into the misty, smoked-outed clearing beyond. Unimpressed, Erskine found himself understanding Myles' frustrations with the Cataphract NCO-staff he commanded, but kept his thoughts to himself as he checked on the G-Company positions. With the ability to move around more-freely, despite being encumbered by handheld rocket-launchers, (and the carbonite ammunition needed to pile on the pressure for Kalaric's anti-tank barrages) Rhone's Guardians were proving quite impossible for the Advanced Walker to track-and-trace, a small blessing that Barran was all too happy to accept under the circumstances.

'Baird's holding his own though, look o'er to the left tip o' the horseshoe.', the Lord-Major muttered, pointing in the general direction with a cursory nod as he stepped outside the ACV to stretch his legs for a little while. Rhone would nod emphatic approval in silence as he stepped out to join Lord Erskine, and to offer any protection possible wherever his Major chose to tread, but was also focused on the Guard-Corporal's position; seeing that Baird was keeping his platoon as widely dispersed as the young NCO would permit, though still maintaining clear lines of visual (and digital) communication between all those under his smart-thinking supervision, Barran's CSM allowed himself to exhale a quiet, though still-obvious sigh of relief. Snorting mirthfully, Barran couldn't help but include,'If ye look all around the tanks, you'll find the rest o' G-Company are making a good go of it as well.', before turning to gaze on the Advanced Walker again.

'We'll be lucky ti beat that karkin' hing doun there, though. There's only s'much Kalaric's walkers can achieve for us, especially if they're no given further fire-support t'batter it's dome wae!'

'All in good time, Rhone. I have a feeling Sloane's got a sneaky trick up his sleeve.', Barran responded, though very instructively, pointing both sides of the horseshoe's gap out for his CSM to see. Once Rhone nodded confirmation of what he was being shown, Erskine looked back to the Company Sergeant-Major and went go into detail on what he was thinking, confident enough that Rhone was paying attention that he rifled on before the assumption escaped his recollection,'A nice wide gap for an entire formation to burst through, wouldn't you say?'

'Whit? An' fae where, exactly, d'you suppose we'd find random allied-units doubling back fae Tal's general-advance? Am ah missin' suhin here, Milord?'

Unable to hold back his mirth any more, Erskine was reduced to a wheezing fit, doubled over as the Guard-CSM stood looking more perplexed with each passing moment; and much to the chagrin of Rhone, Barran wasn't ready to ruin the surprise for anyone present to fight Nixie's Advanced Walker, though none present even knew who was inside it, piloting beyond the walker's projected limitations to survive the combined storm of anti-tank and carbonite barrages. There was obviously more to the Lord-Major's plan, but no matter how much he racked his brain to find the puzzle's missing piece, the clueless CSM had, once more, found himself unable to assign any potentially-available third-parties (and as a result, nor any possible consequent actions) to the task of beating down the Advanced Walker with lasting finality.

'You really need t'give it time ti see for yersel, Rhone.', the Lord-Major finally replied, calming down enough to speak without being rendered incapable by another fit of laughter, sighing and looking back to the subject of their aggression with eyebrow raised in surprise, seeing that all the abuse thrown at it had still not been enough to fully-degrade the protective shell that protected the pilot inside. Shaking his head and tutting loudly, Barran had time to grumble,'Just look at it, man! Makes the NIO's walker R&D look like a token showing in comparison, can't be having tha-', before two more tanks on the right flank exploded under the pressure of Nixie's latest barrage of AT-rockets. Sending the Staff-Sergeant nearby into a frenzy of rage and grief, compounded by the fact his second-in-command was inside one of the destroyed Cataphracts.

'What now, Milord?'

Just as Barran was making to answer, they were both interrupted by the unmistakable sound of motorbikes travelling en masse, and drawing nearer to the hostilities from what sounded like almost every direction around them. Upon hearing this new development, Erskine had no chance of being able to supress the laughter, bursting forth as Sloane's contingent drew closer with every passing second, wheezing as he leaned on the tracks of the APC parked right next to his command-vehicle. All Erskine could could do was giggle himself back to the ACV and wave his CSM over to hop in with him, but once everyone was inside with the doors locked, the Lord-Major was calm enough to answer,'We leave the tanks here wae G-Company, and we go for a wee ride to ground-zero. Ah wanty see the whites o' this pilot's eyes for myself, an' you're bodyguardin' yer Lord-Major's approach - every step o' the way!'

'Oh, kark! You've got that Bastion look about you again, Milord. Just thought you should know, before we drive into the jaws o' death again an' all.'
If it goes the way ah hink it's gawn, we'll be showing up at the tail-end o' whatever happens next. Safe as houses....
​

​

 

[Jax Sloane]

L E G A C Y
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
ARMOURED BATTALION
74-Z Speeder Bike Squad
Proximity: SF-3335 , DECEASED Erskine Barran , Loros Kalaric

​

Unbeknownst to Jax, he was becoming the focus of multiple snipers honing in on him. He was not blessed with a high midichlorian count. He had no highly tuned sixth sense that would alert him to danger. And so as those snipers fired at him, he didn't notice as those slugs, or blaster bolts shot towards him.

Through the underbrush of the forest the speeder raced through. Grass and bushes blew in his direction as he blew past, his speed much faster than what it should be in a place as sporadic as a forest. There were no patterns to observe, to anticipate. Save for another cluster of trees, sharpshooters firing upon Jax and his squad went unnoticed for the first part, that is, until one of his riders took a bolt to the upper torso and flew off their bike. Spotting it out of the peripheries of his helmet, he shot a glance over his shoulder and saw the speeder bike angle forwards, dipping down into the earth before crashing, instantly flipping and crashing into a fallen tree. Crushed by the path created by the Advanced Walker controlled by SF-3335 .

The rest of the targeted bolts?

Struck trees, or were otherwise blocked from taking a shot due to the spattering of trees in the forest.

On the helmet comm, he heard the squawking voice of Loros Kalaric. What the f*ck is that? He questioned at the sound of them, shaking his head as he squinted through his visor. Through the gas, he looked in the direction where the walker he was hunting had gone. Shields down. Jax noted mentally. Pushing forwards on the sticks to surge forwards ahead of the remaining duo riding with him, on account of the sensor disrupting gas still in the air, the missiles fired crashed into the area that he had just passed.

His only recognition of just escaping death as he raced out the gas was the explosion ripping through the earth behind him as he reached to the grenade bandolier around his chest. Lined with only a handful of thermal detonators left, he primed one, eyeing the chronometer in one of the corners of his HUD.

'Barran to Sloane! I've got eyes on you and the Advanced Walker, approaching to surround the walker's position from the north! All we need are Kalaric's walkers and we're as good as golden; so bait that thing westward, and we'll do the rest as they expose their side to us. Good luck, Sloane! Blue-Heart Alpha out!'​

​

Two minutes? He thought, thinking to how much time it'd take Kalaric to close in on him. Too long, Jax concluded.

Unclipping the grenade bandolier and allowing it to slide down his torso and wrap around the body of the speeder, he depressed the activation button as he drove straight for SF-3335 's walkers legs. Even as Major Barran's vehicles began firing on the walker, he veered off to the side. A silent curse as he avoided an explosion of dirt and bark, and through it, he closed in on the Advanced Walker. And in those final seconds he leapt off just before impact, the thermal detonators erupting nearly a split second later. Impact or no, Jax knew not, for the kinetic force of the blast threw him in a random direction into the under brush.

ALLIES | NIO | Willan Tal , DECEASED Erskine Barran , Konrad Bolter , Nima Appw'rii , Loros Kalaric
ENEMIES | TSE | SF-3335 , The Amalgam , Marimax Mortui

 

[Enyo Typhos]

Allies: TSE
Enemies: NIO/GA
Kaska Arden
Equipment: Armour, Rifle, Grenades, Sidearm 1, Sidearm 2, Sabre, Ion Paddle Beamer, Cryo-Ban Gun.

"The kark is your head made out of."

Whether the Jedi's question had been serious or not, she would receive an answer. There was the sound of a snap hiss as the helmet was unsealed and dropped to the floor, after much sputtering in Enyo's HUD. With the damage from the sonic blasts and the headbutt, the helmet had lost its efficacy. But her skull was thick - in the literal sense.

The Jedi guardian would find her belief that her foe was packing a lot of cybernetics confirmed. Enyo's face looked grotesque to say the least. Part of it looked human and was covered by mostly intact synthflesh, with some burst skin here and there, the part showed a skull of metal and a glowing scarlet eye. That was the damaged eye.

Enyo took stock of her bleeding, but determined foe, noting she had entered into a more defensive stance the hybrid recognised as Soresu. Many Sith would scoff at this form, deriding it as weak. Many Sith were, in Enyo's experience, stupid. Somehow they always managed to destroy themselves, after all. Regardless, it was a style Enyo herself was quite fond of. It was strategic and precise and deadly if the foe throwing themselves against a Soresu slipped up and got frustrated. Unless the Soresu user tired themselves out or they were pierced by something more strategic than brute force hammering.

Her foe had been pushed back a bit, so Enyo advanced. Activating Endurance's dual-phase functionality, she extended the blade to increase her reach. Her sabre was raised for a strong blow and she seemed to move for a slash to try and batter through her foe's guard. The strike was a feint.

Her left hand had resumed functionality - at reduced efficacy. Two fingers had been more or less fused together, and the hand felt slow and sluggish. Not good for picking up a weapon and holding it and not really desirable for an actual fist fight. But enough to just ram someone - or, as was the case here, allow her to fire a weapon embedded in her wrist. Such as the concealed cryo-ban gun. And so she unleashed a torrent of freezing chemicals.

 

[Viers Connory]

//: G E N E R I S //:
//: Allies //: Viera //:
//: Engaging //: Alina Tremiru //: Alisteri Haxim //:
//: V A L H A L L A //:

​

Maybe the sith were a lot smarter than Viers had given them credit for. As she went overhead, she watched as the Sith moved under her and rose the blade. Thinking quickly, Viers pulled her leg in and swiped the yellow blade against the other. Twisting her frame, she found herself face staring at...fangs? The stupid grin Viers had entering combat disappeared as she blinked a few times, trying to wrap her mind around the whole fangs thing. ​

What was this creature? She assumed Sith and the Dark Side were quite ugly - but fangs? Viers landed on the other side of Alina, but as her feet touched the ground, she instantly lost her balance. The ground shook, and Viers stood with all the glory of a Jedi till she tumbled forward, face landing in a pile of mud that was uprooted from the shaking. ​

“Umph.” Scrambling to stand back up, the padawan shook her lightsabers till they reignited. A safety precaution having them shut off when her hands were no longer adding pressure to their hilts. Viers didn’t have much time to gain her footing; the Sith seemed to have adjusted to the shaking ground quicker than she had expected. ​

Maybe she was an animal; animals were good at adapting to their surroundings. Alina darted faster than Viers could avoid, blades crossing as they blocked the incoming spear. The attack put her on her heels, but thinking quickly, she let the fanged beast of a Sith’s momentum push her. As the twin blades locked the saber staff, Viers fell back and tumbled backward, placing her foot on a set of washboard abs

and propelled the Sith over her and behind. “Please put those pointy things away before someone gets bitten or something.” Viers stammered as her foot nudged a kick to the fine set of abs; the padawan attempted to launch the Vampire into the temple wall near them.​

 

[Suri Vullen]

ECLIPSE TEAM
76TH PATHFINDER REGIMENT
GALACTIC ALLIANCE ARMED FORCES
TAGS: Sol Stazi | OPEN TO OPPOSITION
Equipment: Armor | Rifle | Vibroknife | Camo Poncho | Class A Thermal Detonators

A booted foot began to sink into the mud as soon as it bore weight. Suri grimaced, pulling it back to solid ground once more. She instead shifted to her stomach, peering through the small breaks in the foliage near the jungle floor. The sound of labored breathing grew louder as whoever was across from her dropped to their knees. A mud caked head turned, assessing the area. The captain's eyes widened as she scrambled back, the fear of being caught unprepared spurring her into action. She slid the rifle from her back and rose silently, taking aim at the back of the soldier’s head.

“Identify yourself.” The woman demanded.

Wild eyes darted to look back at her. The immediate distress disappeared, replaced by a familiarity.

“Captain Vullen?! Don’t shoot, it’s Kader!”

Suri blinked, then again, before slowly lowering her weapon. She shook her head in an attempt to clear her mind. Days in the jungle had put her on edge, the primal instinct to survive now clouding her thoughts. She was almost in disbelief she hadn’t been able to recognize one of her own. She finally looked back to the young man. He had seen battle before, but this had been his first mission as a ranger. Her gaze finally focused on the hand that clutched his torso, covered in blood.

“Son of a schutta, what did you manage?”

The corellian moved to his side without hesitation, replacing his hand with her own, adding pressure to the wound.

“Pack of sith-imps came out of nowhere. Managed to get a shot in. I think I lost them, but no guarantee they won’t follow.”

"Vullen, come in," Sol activated his helmet's integrated comlink, "Status?"

“Major, this is Vullen. I have a soldier who needs medical attention. May or may not have enemies on the way.”

 

[Nima Appw'rii]

G e n e s i s _ A c t u a l
307th Red Riders Stormtrooper Legion / Genesis Rangers
Armor / Main Hand(s) / Melee I / Melee II / Grenades

NIO Konrad Bolter DECEASED Erskine Barran Loros Kalaric Jax Sloane Willan Tal
TSE SF-3335 / OPEN
By the Sword

​

"And I do say, with any good measure, you did a spot on job arriving because I think me and my boys would be having to move in the opposite direction tactically."

The woman couldn’t help but grin from behind the confines of the helmet, she caught the stumble of words on the man’s tongue. She snapped her rifle back from the ledge, stooping low as a shadow fell into the fox hole, dirt kicked up the wake of the soldier. The woman didn’t know what else to make of the man, something she’d coin as superb about his attitude amidst the shavit and blood.

<”It’s app-ree General,”> Nima spared the aging commander in subject another look. Her words were distorted by the layers of dark blast plate and ventilator. <”-rather retreat in hell, and the Riders don’t retreat.”>

A throaty chuckle escaped her, turning around to face the soldier from her squad. Moving like a tremendous machine as she unhooked her bandolier, slipping the canvas case over her shoulder and tossing the ammo off the trooper. They traded powercell for canisters and primed the weapons as the screech of Ties passed well over head, the columns of smoke growing thicker with each bombardment.

<<”Genesis roving unit has intercepted SIMP resistance, negative on artillery. We’re moving in on your position now. ETA five-”>> Cinn reported through the static. <<”Is the General secured?”>>

<<”Positive copy, holding steady. Waiting on your advance Cinn”>> Nima answered. She considered asking, but the A.I populated with numbers, racing down the screen with remaining strength as new squads were categorized. The heavy mech and armor had blasted-

They could consolidate, they would have to.

<<”Box boy where's my ping from Hades”>> the switch flickered, as she switched lines through the HUD.

The barrel of the rifle occupied the woman’s attention in full, trading a look with the trooper. The pair of them clamored back up the ledge and locked in. The line blinked steadily without answer and an exacerbated noise escaped the woman. The muzzled glowed a hellish orange as she laid down a fresh wave of blaster fire, recoil hammering away into the socket of her shoulder.. Her squad picked up on the queue and a great burst of plasma and tibanna rained down on the front. Wilting pockets of SIMP movement through the scarred land. She wasn’t particularly interested in overstepping the wrong bounds, and didn’t offer Tal much else.

The comm links blinked rapidly as channels filtered down with reports, something was happening the back foot but until their unit was summoned. Nima was plotting their course forward. A call came from Vindicate One on the move following the Blue Heart Alpha’s armor, the unit of commandos charging through the gap.

<<”Hades confirmed, delay by two, ready to transmit-”>> the communications finally bridged back and Nima rolled her eyes.

The chatter in her ear tripled as crimson filled the screen and the A.I blared warning-dirt showered the woman as pop shots chipped away at the ledge of the impromptu dug out, Nima jerked back down into the hole. The trooper at her side driven back down, shoulder plates knocking as they huddled down.

An ever encompassing wave of healthy fear warned her not to get shot again, and just as she was starting to catch her breath. The woman smacked her closed fist down on the vambrace, catching the adrenaline override. The constitution of the plate hadn’t failed yet but she could stick her thumb in the worst shot on her chest plate, and she picked at the melted mold before dropping to her wait on her utility belt. The woman upholstered the macros.

The ever encompassing sound of cannon fire whittling away at the jungle, the lumber walker and armor. Nima propped the rifle up against the dugout as her gauntlet dialed into her vambrace, the main line of armor wouldn’t be far behind them she reasoned. A great rumble sent vibrations through the ground and the radar beeped steadily as a contingent drove up upon them-

Nima’s brows furrowed, where had they been five minutes ago? Something ugly fanned the woman’s pride and she landed a heavy hand on the trooper’s shoulder. The Major kept the man’s head down, a two finger salute rounded up as she drew her fist down-signally to the trooper to collect. Nima watched the exchange of command in the bloodied pit for only a sparse few seconds. Galidraani, were a different breed. The armored vehicles drew the fire off the pit, the ringing of metal and plasma overwhelming-dirt kicked up from stray shots.

The woman lined up the scope of the macrobinoculars, breathing steadily as the glint of blasters past through the trees meters off. She hated making the call, drowning in the numbers. Aurebesh filtering from screen to trajectory. Her fingers dug in to a small pocket off her belt, fishing out the lazer guide quickly as the frontline heated up; lining up the infrared beam and transmitting.

"If you and your boys are up for the challenge, we're going straight for their base and we're taking it before evening dawns upon us."

<<”Box boy, relay. Genesis taking fire from the vicinity. Go ahead and fire the Howitzer, three s-beam. Gridmark 4423 and descending, five klicks off of our position south bound,”>> Nima droned over the link, she could hear the commander behind her but the woman was far too occupied.

<<”Copy that, standby Genesis.”>>

Sliding back down into the safety of the foxhole, Nima’s faced the General as she tucked the macros back in. She didn’t want to admit she hadn’t actually paid attention to exactly what he had said-

<”General I just called in an artillery bombardment, give my gal Hades three minutes. My Company is enroute from the left. I'd advise all roving units to steer clear, I don't have the right channels,”> the woman offered, rolling her shoulder idly and stretching her arms as she turned to nod bakc toward the direction where the reinforcement was due. Now they waited for the real show to begin.

 

[Paz Koon]

THE RAKATAN TEMPLE
Purge The Dark
Kainan | Kascalion Giedfield

​

Paz hit the ground hard. Though her plummet bore fruit in wounding the demon, her reacquaintance with solid ground had not been as prosperous. She could feel the descent in her bones. Knees and back taking the majority of the burden, sharp pains and tingles surging through the nerves; the burdens of age. Luminescent ichor dripped from the pale blade, pooling onto the ground beneath as she heaved it upward as a support to stand with.

Shoulders rose and fell with a handful of haggard breaths. After the brief moment of respite, if one could be generous enough to call it that, she straightened. A swath of glowing lifeblood spattered against the ground as she flicked the blade to one side. She stood tall, as tall as someone of her stature could, yet somehow she seemed diminished. An aging woman in a warrior's clothes.

She could hardly lament for the Knight so callously reduced to oblivion. The Pale Blade would be their mourner and avenger the same. For nothing else was its purpose, and her own was not too far removed from the unfeeling tool in her grasp. She braced an arm against her abdomen, hoisting the blade to point forward, ready to be the head of her coming charge. She didn't have any more than a single acrobatic display of previously displayed intensity let in her.

The final ace in a withering sleeve.

It was then that the dimensional threads of causality and destiny knotted before her, in the third eye that saw the planned close beyond. Kainan's demise, Kascallions demise, both playing out in their respective fruitions. Were they here? Were they beyond? The Dark Side was a thick fog on the diverging roads ahead. Was The Devil to die here, or to live on until the end of all things? Premonitions of such a stygian variety weren't known for their outstanding clarity.

The future was not inflexible, portents never concrete. A considerable nudge could change the oldest prophecies. If The Devil's time foreseen before her was not here, she would be that nudge, to make it so. If Kainan's demise was rising on the horizon, the Pale Blade would be that nudge, banishing it forevermore back to the yet unforeseen. Fate often chooses where Paz can't go, and she is there nonetheless. Foresight is time's most insidious foil.

Knees protesting with stiff, jagged pains, Paz charged forward. The sigularity, intent to untangle knots in defiance of the inevitable.

 

[Eldaah Aderyn]

Elidibus-class Star Dreadnaught
Lightsaber Armor
Maynard Treicolt
​

"I've got you now, it's over." would echo through the Force, and would be met with a mocking laughter that would resonate across any mental medium. He was bleeding aggression into the Force, blind purpose and vengeance rippling from his presence.

Oh no, I'm afraid it is only just beginning.

Her words would reach him, the shrouded figure turning to the Lord Admiral and a new arrival on the bridge. A Sith Adept, a Nikto wearing armor that denoted the symbol of the Order of Shadows, grinned with the promise of battle. The defense squads meeting the Wolfpack were doing as they were supposed to; dying in droves to the elite men of the Alliance following their commander, deeper and deeper into the unknown darkness.

"Impede all others, but Maynard must be allowed to reach the bridge. Lord Admiral, I would suggest directing the battle from the auxiliary." Even as the Lady of Secrets spoke, the battle beyond the bridge viewport raged. Neither side was giving any quarter, energy and death twisting in to create a confluence of war. But time was on the side of the Sith, the Alliance ships were so far from home and not close enough for their allies to assist them.

The Korun admiral agreed and departed for the secondary bridge, the officers and crewmen in the pits switching their terminals to mobile datapads until they could join their commander there. MORGAUSE would direct systems until they were at their new stations.

"Gharul, you know what to do," the cloaked figure said to the Nikto.

"It will be my pleasure, my Lady," he grumbled, hefting the lightsaber pike the former Morgukai had adopted upon his recruitment. From across the ship, the real defenses would start to emerge for the Wolfpack to engage. Monsters with glowing yellow eyes, armed and armored, would replace Sith troopers. Creatures mixing maned felines and scorpions would roar and burst out of observation pods, while horrific towering creations, massive claws at the ready and bio-plasma dripping from tails, would appear from hidden compartments. Sith Beastmasters, hidden throughout the ship, would direct these abominations, but one man would find himself never the target.

Other surprises would lurk, innocuous in appearance for now, until they were needed.

The Wolf comes, but what will he find. The Wolf hunts, but does he know his prey?