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

[Jiosha Relawny]

PRIVATE FIRST CLASS "JISHOA RELAWNY," 104th Assault Battalion, Galactic Alliance
Location: Outside of the entrance of the Sith base on Generis
Current Casualty Rate: 9,000 men
Objective: Assist the New Imperial Order with their mission
Allies: GA | NIO |
Enemies: TSE | OPEN

It seemed that for every man I saved, another would fall, like a human domino set. Laser-fire streaked overhead, one stray bolt nearly taking my head off when I peeked out from behind the barricade I was huddled behind.
A soldier clad in white armor fell after a crash of gun-fire, causing dirt particles to scatter from the ground and into my face, causing me to scrunch up my steely visage for just a moment, darkness surrounding me.
When I opened my eyes once more, I caught a glimpse of the corpse that lay on the ground before me, brown dirt dashed over his white armor, a large pool of blood forming on his abdomen slowly spreading as he put pressure on it, attempting to stop the bleeding.

He outstretched a shaking hand towards me, and slowly exhaled as his final breath filled my ears. The hand twitched, and fell to the ground with a loud
thump.

I closed my eyes once more and put my fist to my chest as if I was clutching something dear to me, as I uttered: "Damnit. Not another..." My moment of silent contemplation was interrupted by a loud roar of earth and blasting powder flying through the air, the sound quickly joined by the pained screams of some other poor soul.
I quickly opened my eyes, and saw another one of the stormtroopers, writhing in agony as blaster bolts slammed into the ground around him. I turned my vision to his lower body, and my eyes widened with shock. His legs were a mangled mess of flesh and bone, blood pouring out of the bottom of the nubs that used to be his legs.

There was one important thing I noticed however:
He was still alive. He was still capable of being saved. I yelled out to the platoon of soldiers taking cover behind the barricade on the other side of the hill: "I need cover-fire!" "Roger that soldier, we got your back! Boys! Suppressive fire at point three-five!"
The soldier's blasters quieted for a moment, and then barked back to life as they all opened fire on the area just in front of the heavily wounded man I was scampering over to, streaking over his limp soon to be corpse if I wasn't quick enough.
Crimson red bolts flew into the earth near my feet, the impact causing large sparks to cruise through the air as I grabbed the injured man's shoulders and began dragging him to cover. "Don't worry buddy, I'll get you outta this!" My assurances were met with no response, with only the rhythmic breathing of the man's lungs as a sign that he was indeed alive.


I leaned him gently against the steel barricade, throwing my medic bag to the ground, and tearing open the zipper, rifling through it like some sort of animal tearing through a pack of food. I quickly procured a syringe filled with red liquid and a large roll of bandages.


I went to work quickly, unraveling the bandages and wrapping them around the man's bloodied and battered legs, being just as careful to do it properly even in my haste.

I wrapped the final bandage, and blood began to pool underneath the covering. I grabbed the syringe with my left hand and pulled it up to the soldier's vision, as if I was showing him what it was. "Just relax, friend. This will ease the pain." I stuck the syringe into his right leg, resulting in a pained groan escaping from underneath the helmet.
It was a good sign, another assurance that he might make it out of this alive. I closed my eyes and began to say a prayer to my god as I pressed down on the plunger. "Please, give me the strength to save this man, so that he may live to see another day."
I opened my eyes once more, moving my hand to remove the wounded's helmet. "Now, let's see what your face looks like..." I pulled off the helmet, bracing for whatever horror awaited behind the mask.
It was worse than I could have ever imagined. Half of his face. Half of his goddamned face was burnt by that landmine. I'm surprised he was still alive. "A-am I going to make it?"

Those were the first words I heard the man utter, spilling from his charred lips. My mind raced, trying to come up with some sort of lie, some sort of assurance that he would be alright. "Yeah, you will buddy. Trust me." I sputtered, not entirely believing what I had just said. "Hey! I'm going to have to take him back to base! He's really fucked up!"

I yelled across towards the soldiers. "Alright! Just be sure to get him there safely! You two don't die on me, hear?" "Sir yes sir!" I grabbed the injured man's hips, and slung him over my shoulders, the weight felt about ten times heavier than a pile of bricks. But I pressed on. Because I had to. I wheeled around, and broke into a run, straight for the field hospital.

 

[Khefiir]

EIGHT DAYS AGO
FRINGES OF THE GREE ENCLAVE
PROLOGUE TO OBJECTIVE III​

"Remarkable," the Gree breathed, stretching skeins of warm blue-white silk between its upper tentacles. "I have only the faintest spark myself, but enough to feel some semblance of what this must be. There are records, legends, of finding barriers and cocoons and curtains like this. The time-scale..."

"The Misst-Weaver K'narik sspoke of thoussandss of lifetimess," Khefiir said. He drew more of the ambient cosmic Force into silk between his claws. Wispy strands snagged in his green scales, as ever, decorating him up to the elbow. Sitting in a fungi-dominated alien garden with his Gree host, he'd removed his shirt to bask in the heat. "That would be hundreds of thoussandss of yearss - but sshe also sspoke of younger starss, and planetss unformed, which could be a billion or more."

"And her...capsule, what did dating reveal?"

"What you're holding now issn't matter asss we undersstand it. Dating technologiesss revealed nothing."

The Gree nodded sadly. "I wish I'd had the chance to speak with her about my people. Perhaps she encountered us in our golden age. Perhaps these Mist-Weavers saw the Gree rise."

Khefiir twisted the mist-weaving just so, and the strands of Force-made-physical became a little sculpture of a Gree with tentacles upraised in a universal gesture of desire or triumph. He handed it to his host. "One sssmall token of appreciation."

The Gree accepted the little glowing sculpture daintily, with a single curl of an upper tentacle. "Two days you've lingered with me, satisfying my curiosity. I appreciate your diligence."

"That wasss the price you required, Gatemassster."

"And you have paid in full, Green Transector. You have time, more than enough time, to find and neutralize the Cobalt Theorem. I needed to know you could master your impatience. To the Gree, the impatient and transitory are marks of lower cognition, lower value. I'm pleased to consider you a full person. Now..." The Gatemaster set the sculpture aside and produced a datapad. "...I have a record to show you. The location of the Cobalt Theorem."

"The actual location of the Theorem - the Crucifixion Engine? You've had it all along? And we've known each other-"

"Old friend, I need you to understand how seriously I take this. Everything I told you when you came here still holds true." A tentacle stabbed the air, while another offered the datapad. Gree script resolved into awkwardly-translated Basic as Khefiir grabbed it. "Worthiness cannot be assumed - not in oneself, not in one's friends. Good intention is not enough. Quality is what matters."

That spoke to Khefiir's understanding of the supremacist and eugenicist threads in Gree culture, a point he did not see fit to make. Instead he examined the record intently.

"Generisss."

"Yes. You're welcome."

"...Gatemassster, wass that a pun?"

 

[Darth Daiara]

Objective 2: 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
​

​

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.

 

[Rurik Fel]

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

I AM THE FIRE
​

The tribulations which Rurik endured in an uninterrupted succession left the Man of Iron on the threat of breaking beneath the stress, the fires which scorched the very mettle of his mortal being. It was only in this Iron Skin that he felt fit for the mantel at all. Without it, he was a beaten, broken man. His demeanor noticeably altered when separated from the raiment of heavy metal.

Without it, he was the burned man, undone of his once bountiful strength and tenacity, to be left a flailing mass of crude matter. Broken. To exist would mean the full concealment of every inch of skin scorched in the wake of The Twilight. It was even more insidious than the oxidized fires, for it less so tarnished the flesh and more so the soul. There had been something missing, a void made in the fires of battle with The Devil.

The Iron gave him a bit of himself back.

Within this skin, he was invincible.​

The darkness weighed heavy in its death shroud existence over the derelict world of Generis. It was palpable in the air. Whatever visions written in the star maps to unveil Generis as the nexus point to this dreaded tool only seemed wholly correct.

Darkness reigned here. And as he always had, he would do more than endure. He would vanquish it all. Just as it had been scorched clean from Korriban, Helgard...so too would Generis see the Iron Eclipse.

On their indomitable approach, Enlil, the great King spoke up in accordance to the Lord Executor. For the first he'd ever spoken to the monarch of Ketaris...he heard if not fear, a grave concern.

"Then we will do what must be done. Find it...ensure nothing else can attain it, Enlil. You are disciplined enough...you will overcome." Rurik commands to the King.

"The Darkness is here in strength, sons and daughters of the Empire...but its horrid shroud will not stand much longer. Cut them down where they stand for they seek the catalyst of the undoing of all sentience, the makings of annihilation. It musn't ever reach their hands. Forward. For the True Empire." Rurik spoke, the will of the Imperator through the common patching through to all the New Imperial units assaulting the temple.

His retinue of Knights were quick to breach through their isolated section of the wall as Kainan 's impromptu and managed solitary assault unto the roof of the temple.

They made their entrance, now began the hunt.

The Force was a putrid miasma in this place, a temple ode to the darkness, the whispers of annihilation ever present in its corridors. As much as their was Light, Dark...and Order choking the air around this place...so too did something else linger.

An eerily familiar presence. One not of anything before it but of a great and ceaseless emotional distress and great passion swarming around it. A source of forlorn as much as it was rage all tempered and controlled.

They were going to meet.

And like every pivotal moment that incurred on the Imperial Knight, he would be waiting.

His first steps into the temple were marked with blood, the ambush of a Sith Knight invading his focus, the argent blade meeting its flesh with a disciplined lethality.

ALLIES | NIO | Kainan | Ryv | Dagon Kaze | Paz Koon | Enlil
ENEMIES | TSE | Ingrid L'lerim Coordinated | Alina Tremiru | Darth Strosius

 

[Kascalion Giedfield]

Armor: X | Lightsaber: X | Right Arm: X
Objective 3: Rakatan Secrets
Primary RP Opponents: Kainan
Overarching Opponents: NIO | TSE | Respective Allies
Overarching Allies: Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt
NPC Allies: Sith Warlords Conscript Corps (10,000)
NPC Fleet (Can be Played By Me for Free Fleeters): Hallowed Grave, Tuk'ata-Class Qotsisajakaar Battleships, Mutate-Class Carriers, UR-15 Lightning Strike Gunship, UR-15 Thunder's Roar Starfighter, UR-13 Crimson Bolt Interceptor

​

A Few Hours Earlier...​

"My Lord Giedfield, are you sure this is wise?" said an old voice laden with harried worry. Such worry. The weakness of an untempered slave stuck upon him by those unwilling - or incapable - to shape him into something actually useful. "It's just that...not informing...Lady Voyance or Lord Kaar..."

The Sith responded with a clawed wave that sent the old, bearded man into a flinching hush, allowing the much-needed silence to fill the room of the Hallowed Grave. It had been a long journey from Tash-Taral, the intentions of this day unclear, but the tension that radiated off of High Lord Kascalion was enough to put most of the crew into a state of barely contained panic. Something was going to happen, but not even the other Sith in his charge could figure out what it was, only that there was battle in the works. Glorious combat, but who was to be the enemy? The Sith Empire? Their hold on Generis was well-known, but...the Warlords of the Sith had not yet gained the grounds to make such an open attack on them, at least not in the force that followed Giedfield this day. So what was going on?

"Haldar," Giedfield suddenly uttered from his half-formed neck, which was all manners of unsettling and disgusting in reverberation and sound. The old man came skittering back to his place next to the giant who rose from his worktable, a weapon clasped in his robotic hand, the servos whirring as his grip tightened and loosened around the cold metal. Giedfield nodded at the feeling of it, the weight, the coolness of evil that could be felt even through the sensation simulators in his palms and digits, and turned to the man with the stone-set expression of abject fear.

A look of 'what is about to happen to me' that gave Giedfield a slight feeling of humor in his chest before his frozen ice-eyes turned to the other slave in the room: a younger man who had proven quite adequate at his functions before and after his servitude to the Sith began. Giedfield gave this young man a small nod and promptly handed the weapon to Haldar, shoving it against his chest and nearly knocking him over onto the floor. The older man looked at the weapon in wonderment and nearly choked on his tongue when he realized what he held: a lightsaber of such malignant presence even his feeble grasp he had to look up at the equally malignant, if not more so, Lord Giedfield to not drop it.

What he heard next did make him drop it: "Take this weapon and kill young Effek." The old Haldar could only weep and shake as the order was repeated a second time, still as calm as the first, still as collected as the first. Or...was it that? Or was it that Effek offered not even a squeak of resistance, or a change in his face? Was it that he did not even move at all when the blade - smoky, red, and catastrophic in its size - carved through his body? Was it that the blade then screamed as if it were alive, screamed manic and enraged at taking an innocent life? Or was it that when he looked back upon Lord Giedfield, the deed done, he did not see the same inquisitive Sith of engineering and mystic arts. He only saw a presence in the dark void of the Force that even a non-Force user like himself could see.

The Devil, grinning from ear to ear. Eyes flashing with delight.

Delight for the carnage to come.

​

A Few Minutes Prior...​

Arriving in Generis' space was not easy, especially in the attempt to remain undetected, which surely was not accomplished in the slightest. Even when distracted by each other, the Empire and the Imperials would certainly detect the suddenly arriving fleet of the Hallowed Grave and a small fleet of Tuk'ata-Class Qotsisajakaar Battleships and Mutate-Class Carriers. No, no this was not just any fleet. This was the advancing lines of the Dread Fleet, heralded by Lord Kascalion Giedfield himself who now stood within the hangar of the Hallowed Grave with a small contingent of the Sith Warlords Conscript Corps. These brave men and women - either willingly brave or indoctrinated to such an extent that they know no other route - were lined single file besides their shuttles and star fighters, outfitted in pre-modification black armor, their visors glowing the reddest crimson in the darkness.

Kascalion examined them, walking slowly between each row with heel-to-toe steps that clacked on the metal flooring, his heart feeling the tension fill the room like an ocean. They were ready for this battle, for the chance to allow their Lord to have the time he needed to complete his mission - the true mission. What this was, they did not know, nor did they truly care beyond hushed whispers in their encrypted communication channels. It was their honor to even stand in Lord Giedfield's presence, for he was the true God of their beliefs. Nothing else mattered but ensuring his victory. And so, they stood at attention, basking in darkness surrounding their lord like a miasmic blanket, even when they themselves could never hope to channel such strength.

"Lord Giedfield," a voice suddenly spoke, much more firm and respectable than that of old Haldar, who was still busy disposing of the remains of young Effek. Kascalion turned to the pale face of this particular regiment's commanding office: Aokrop, a female Zabrak who had already made herself rather well-known in the Conscript Corps for her indomitable will, even in the face of unbeatable odds like the ones this day. "All ships have reported in. Lady Sybila awaits your command to deploy with her forces."

GIedfield nodded curtly and tucked his hands behind his back, now armored in specially crafted Sith robes. "Inform her to launch on my cue. And to hold nothing back when she lands. Nothing. I want to sense the anger and anguish a star system over. Add that any losses to her forces will be chalked up to Voyance and Kaar as...acceptable sacrifices to our greater good. Understood?"

The Zabrak saluted in her standard professional - perhaps event zealot like- manner and quickly, Kascalion turned from inspection to ordering every soldier in his fleet to board their assigned vessels. The larger ships of the fleet would remain near the border of Generis' space while the shuttles would naturally make their way through the chaos to their assigned landing zones. The star fighters, meanwhile, would operate on a split basis of thirty-five percent engaging the enemy fleets to whittle down their chances of escaping the battle as best as possible, while also running defensive formations around the larger ships. And of course, should the need arise, the Hallowed Grave could always...intervene. Being built different than other ships, its assistance in the battle would matter greatly towards the larger success of the Dread Fleet.

​

Now...​

The landing for Kascalion's small regiment went as well as a lone Tusken Raider party attempting to kill a Greater Krayt Dragon. Immediate hellfire pelted the rapidly descending vessels, which were already pushing their limits on terminal velocity without threatening to break apart entirely. Turns out, that did not matter at all anyways. However, thanks to the ingenious engineering on Lord Giedfield' part, and the marvelous blueprints from his allies on Tash-Taral, much of the regiment were able to survive and engage in fighting the Empire and Imperial Forces almost immediately, inside the Rakatan Temple - the target of this entire plot - and outside. Chatter from every soldier sounded out across their commlinks as blaster fire began their insidious orchestra performance, which Kascalion - after rising from the dent of debris and metal on the rooftop of this infernal relic of a construct - began to lightly conduct with his wrists and clawed index fingers.

Fluid motions that swiftly turned into the sharp retrieval and activation of his newest weapon as an Imperial Knight suddenly made their presence known, either landing atop the roof herself or sensing his presence. Either way, she engaged and found her strikes effortlessly blocked and then parried in a series of one-two-three motions before her head was dexterously lopped from her body. Her neck left a smoldering ruin, Kascalion offered a low grunt of disgusted disappointment and shunted her body away, taking deliberate care to retrieve her lightsaber before her body flew too far away. Much too short for his grip, the Imperial's blade would act more like an emergency shoto, if even necessary.

Turns out, that necessity may have come quicker than expected as an Imperial TIE Fighter suffered the same fate as Kascalion's shuttles did, careening through the sky - missile like - and crashing into the ceiling. Or, more rather, the pilot crashing into the ceiling.

"Now this is interesting," the Devil called out over the battle without a moment's hesitation. He knew immediately that this encounter was to be...delightful, as he began taking his slow heel-to-toe clacking steps across the rooftop toward's the young man who rose to his feet. The Devil remained silent save for a long, drawn out cackle that stopped unsettlingly quick as he took the last step some twenty feet away from the Knight. "I seem to be encountering you people more and more as my days pass. Imperials drawn to the Dark Side...to me, I guess is another way of putting it. So...curious, must I say. Absolutely curious. I would love to sit down with all of you and hash this out, because I truly did not expect to see this twist in the narrative, I will tell you that much. Has fighting the Sith begun to drive you mad?"

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

POST I
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 Arten Jinn Jiosha Relawny

ENEMIES (TSE): Marimax Mortui

CALLSIGN: BLUE-HEART ALPHA

Custom Blaster-Pistol | Basket-Hilted Vibrosword Claymore

PRELUDE

Generis, covered in forests that many a great map-reader could die getting lost in, though there were multiple clear paths toward the enemy base within it's overgrown surroundings. With all the orbital-snapshots, holographic-projections and defensive-structure blueprints provided by the COMPNOR contingent dropping in with them, all those assigned to this objective would have no snags or issues hindering their three-pronged approach to the ORCC that the base on Generis was purpose-built to protect. Adding to the first two main prongs of Tal's Brigade and the COMPNOR allies' combined assault, Konrad Bolter's very own armoured-company would be deployed to fill that role, with Hell's Hammers seeking to continue on their momentum gained from their victories on their homeworld of Archais.

Whether others would be joining the three main assaults on the planet's ORCC, it's surrounding base and the many redoubts littered along the base's vastly-wide perimeter, Erskine wouldn't get a proper chance to find out until all the Galidraanis were aboard their landing-transports; not that he would make a big deal of it, knowing the NIO had it's fair share of martial powerhouses, and knowing for a fact such overthinking would be rendered irrelevant as soon as the fighting started. The Lord-Major would instead dwell on the morale of those defending the ORCC, understanding the NIO's resolve was enough to sap the collective will of all those within the Sith Empire's borders, let alone the courage of those soldiers sworn to uphold and protect it from such relentlessness.
So demoralized, so broken that they cower and flinch at the mere mention of the New Order....

ABOARD THE LANDING-SHIPS

'Milord, ah don't mean ti ask around for what feels like the umteenth time, but what sort o' resistance are we expectin' doun there really?'

Looking to Shugg and Gowrie for their reactions, both kept their hands up in acquiescence, conceding the chance to respond, and yielding to their Lord-Major as he responded,'Well, we're no expectin' another Bastion for a while, if that's what you're askin'!', slightly raising his voice to be heard over muffled humming of the airship's engines. Leaning in closer, and bidding all his nearby subordinates to draw closer also, Barran then smirked a little, maintaining the smirk as he exclaimed,'Our first-and-only war on the Sith Empire is drawing ti it's conclusion, lads! Their realm is in it's final death-throes as we speak, an' you're aw worryin' about the sort o' resistance we'll be facing on Generis? Honestly, don't! Pointless now, especially after the crucibles we've survived afore the'day!'

'Will it be enough to get these freaks off our home-world, Milord?'

Lord Erskine couldn't help but dwell on his outspoken guard's question, as he hadn't given any thought to what the future held for the Blue-Hearts after the NIO were finished with the Sith Empire; the question had discreetly been brought up in Tal's company some months before, though by one of the troops from the 1st Battalion, such that the Brigadier-General had no answer for at the time, but it was still enough to instil a nagging urge to find out somehow. Whether Lord Willan had found success in his inquiries or not was still up for debate in the lower-rungs of the Brigade, and hotly debated among all the officers under the Tiger's banner, though the list of potential enemies would surely be narrowed down after the NIO's invasion on Generis.

'The Sith Empire? Of course, but ah doubt all our other adversaries would so easily let it go to the NIO without a fight. The freaks who currently inhabit Galidraan's worlds would only palm them off to their allies, so no freedom for the Woad-Macushla, Norff-Galidraan or the Bhoys o' Galidraan 4. No yet, but soon though.... Ah can almost taste the air o' the Heartlands aw'ready, lads. Just haud firm, stand fast an' we'll have a path home soon; I promise you this, an' wae every confidence ah have in this mission, we'll make it home! Even if it kills the old man spear-heading our return! Understand?'

JUST LIKE OLD TIMES

'Enemy base sighted, Milord. Shall we move in now?'

'Go for it, Shugg.', the Lord-Major responded, withdrawn somewhat, (by way of blank-minded boredom) though keen on making the operation less-monotonous for both himself and the men of the 2nd Battalion. He needed something to motivate them, something to stave off their collective state of mild war-weariness, and the idea came to Erskine as if by a sudden flashback to his youth, leading him to utter,'Ah hink we could use some music this time around; an' besides, slow approaches bore me.', as the memories of his days as a 2nd-Leftenant came flooding into the forefront of his mind.

'No much we can dae about that wae the trees, Milord. Want me t'put the Sea-Shanties oan?'

'Naw, ah've got suhin' better-suiting for the occasion.'

​

​

 

[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

[ Solitude ] ​

Ingrid heard the explosions as the walls had already collapsed. She looked forward mechanically, without emotion, in this place she was perhaps the only one except for the enemy that the darkness did not embrace. Although she wasn't sure about the enemy. As always, she was completely neutral now and thanks to her amulet her presence was hidden in the Force. Although the Nexus was here on the planet, didn’t do the same as she did on the Byss now. It didn't make sense now. She was already able to go to the Netherworld, she felt Adrian there, but what was the point of all this if she had not yet found a way to merge her husband’s soul?

Heard the footsteps, screams, explosions again. Turned her head for a moment, that perhaps it is better that her own men were not here in this place. They defended the necessary points and civilians elsewhere. Based on previous battlefields, this place will be a slaughterhouse within minutes. As before, where the enemy kills children. They may have been Sith apprentices, but they were children! This subject has always been able to touch her sensitively, ever since she lost her own half a life ago. The first one, it would have been a boy like Adrian and Eyjolf…

She didn’t let her thoughts distract from the fighting, so she emptied her mind in an instant. As always, she suppressed all negative thoughts and emotions - apart from the emptiness with which she did not thrive - instinctively. On top of these, the pain has throbbed in her soul unstoppably since that day when he died. Ironically, until out of this pain, for example, Darth Prazutis tore holes in the fabric of reality into another dimension, as used by other Siths; Ingrid didn't know what to do with it. To her it was there and nothing more; the pain slowly ground her.

Stepped out of the shadows, her movement silent, elegant, graceful and deadly. As she reached a part where she was not only in shadows but the lights of the lighting and the outside world illuminated, she no longer looked like a blurry spot. She looked through those who were here, the soldiers, finally her eyes agreed on the armoured figure. Ingrid had seen it before and read intelligence files about him. Not about his abilities, but rather about his position and work.

The assassin did not attack; as usual she waited until the enemy attacked her. Here, yes, if GA was your opponent, she wouldn’t be tired of it. But she wasn’t like Tacitus, whatever happens, Ingrid won’t be the first to break her contract with the Imperator. Rather, she wanted the opponent to be the one who breaks it all. So far, she’s not actually fighting an NIO opponent. As things stand, that will change today. The Empress didn't deny that she was partially happy if they walked away from here, but knew it wasn't going to happen.

"Halt!" in a single command, nothing more, in her usual cold, military voice. "Leave while you still have the opportunity!"

And if she's killed here today, the worst case was the best… she could be with Adrian again…

 

[Marcis Sorr]

Objective: Secure the catalyst; eliminate any hostiles.
Equipment: Sorr's Shatterbracers | Close-Fitting Combat Suit
Writing With: Dagon Kaze and Violet Horne

Generis; if he had been asked a few days ago, he would never have suspected that it had once been a notable colony of the once-great Rakata, that it might yet hold some of their secrets and dark technologies. Now he knew, however. Now he understood why it could not be allowed to fall to the New Imperials. The Sith had seized the legacy of the Rakata through aeons spent studying the Dark, all that they had wrought was theirs by right.​

There were others nearby, but he had opted to stand apart, seeking comfort not in numbers but in the shadows. He had every respect for honourable warriors, but his talents were more suited for smaller, faster confrontation; he simply didn't do all that well on the field, blasters roaring.​

Observing from a hidden vantage point as the Jedi made their landing, he briefly considered taking a shot, but quickly dismissed it - chances were their senses would see them through... and there was no way he could take that many. He would have to have patience.​

Sooner or later, someone would split from the group. That would be his moment to strike.​

 

[Zaavik Perl]

PRELUDE

「WRITE THEM IN A LETTER THAT SAYS GOODBYE」
​

-

//MESSAGE RECIEVED... //
//ENCRYPTION LEVEL: STARBIRD... //
//RECIPIENT: Allyson Locke //
//STARBIRD CLEARANCE VERIFIED //
//UNENCRYPTING... //
//MESSAGE TITLE: N/A //

I'm starting to get really sick of this Imperial collaboration, Aly. I know it's pure pragmatism, and nothing more, but at what point are we sacrificing our principles? It wasn't even a month ago that I was undercover or Archais just to get a look at their Infantry procedures. Now we're suddenly considering becoming chummy with Imperials beyond the battlefield because we want to take the fight to an already dying regime? Don't get me wrong, there's nothing I'd love more than a galaxy without Sith, but is this really the way to do it? Once the Sith are gone, aren't we next on their list?​

I'm tired, Aly. It's always engagement after engagement, skirmish after skirmish, conflict after conflict. It makes me feel like I'm back in the slums of Zeltros again. I know, I know, that sounds like an exaggeration, I can already sense you rolling your eyes, but I mean it. I feel like I don't have time for anything but war or war-related activities nowadays. It's not like I had any other choice than to sign up for this, you know? It was that or stay on Zoltan Street. Still, a vacation couldn't hurt. I sometimes try to muster the courage to ask IVI for some time off but- Between you and me? She's high key intimidating.​

Anyway, I was just writing you because I don't know what your mission is, what your orders are, or if you're even on assignment. So, I figured I should let you know they're shipping me off to Generis. You know, just in case I don't come back or end up MIA again for a while. I have a bad feeling about it, and I don't mean the usual pre-war jitters, either. It's even worse now that I have Auraya Irath-Ur to look after. I feel like I've been put in your shoes in some retroactive karmic way. I'm so sorry for all the reckless and dumb things I did, I dunno how you didn't have a heart attack. I'm sorry I would get mad at you for being too mom-ish back when I was still a Padawan. I get it now, I really do. I swear, if this kid so much as trips during training, I feel my heart drop. Never thought being responsible for someone would be this hard.​

Anyway, I ship off in about an hour from writing this, so I have to go get ready. We haven't talked since Corellia, so I thought I'd write to you before my chances of dying skyrocket. Come by sometime, please? I still have the same apartment, and I'd love for you to meet Raya. Whatever SIA has you doing right now, stay safe.​

-Zaavik​

-

//MESSAGE RECIEVED...//
//ENCRYPTION LEVEL: STARBIRD... //
//RECIPIENT: Ryv //
//STARBIRD CLEARANCE VERIFIED //
//UNENCRYPTING... //
//MESSAGE TITLE: N/A //

I've never been good at starting letters, or any forms of conversation for that matter, so I'll cut to the point. You probably won't see this until we make it back home. That's fine, just before a battle isn't the time right time for this, but I'm writing it so it can be off my chest in case I'm one of the unlucky ones who don't make it back home. If you're going to die, might as well die breathing unhindered, right? Right, the point, okay- ​

I'm losing faith, Ryv. The Alliance, the Jedi, our cause, and I know I shouldn't be. I've been Knighted, I'm on the Council, I have a Padawan, and I'm in charge of an entire contingent of Shadows. I'm doing way better for myself than arguably any nineteen-year-old in our order could ever hope for. Yet, I just feel so empty. You know my reservations about the talks of a formal Alliance with the Imperials, but it goes beyond that. ​

Maybe I'm just a weak link. But all this fighting is what I dreamed of getting away from when I took Allyson's hand into this life. I know it's my duty, and if we don't stop the Sith no one will. Maybe I'm just selfish. What if all that Sith Eternal rhetoric is fundamentally the truth? They always come back, they're always present, every huge hit to their kind has never been anything more than a setback, and every battle won still feels like a defeat to me. ​

I don't know, I guess it's starting to feel like it's all for nothing. New regimes pop up as soon as they sniff weakness in the old, and I feel like we're going to do this for the rest of our lives. When has there ever been peace that wasn't short-lived in the grand scheme of it all? What are we doing, Ryv? For every difference we make, it's like three more evils appear. ​

I know when and if we both make it out of this, you're going to want to talk. I hope we do. I need guidance, Ryv. If I can't find a light in all this, I don't know how much longer I can keep doing it.​

-Zaavik​

-

//MESSAGE RECIEVED...//
//ENCRYPTION LEVEL: [REDACTED]... //
//RECIPIENT: Darth Daiara //
//UNENCRYPTING... //
//MESSAGE TITLE: N/A //

If I knew what has possessed me to send this message, I'd tell you. You're probably wondering how I managed to get this message to you. I'm sure you can figure that out yourself, but it's not that important anyway, and I doubt you're very pleased to be reading this. So, I'll make this short.​

You probably know by now what's coming. The Imperials, and begrudgingly, us Jedi by their sides. I know you'll be part of this battle, regardless of what your orders are. You're stubborn like that. Whatever your plans are, I don't care, just stay off Generis. ​

I can't show you my usual mercies if we come face to face here. Though you're probably convinced to the contrary, I harbor no desire for retribution after Bastion. But this isn't like Orinackra. If we meet here, only one of us is going home. ​

I couldn't tell you why I care enough to even give you this warning. Maybe it's duty, maybe it's empathy. I'm not going to pour over everything and try to figure it out. Take this a threat, a warning, advice, whatever you want, I don't care. Just don't come to Generis.​

- Zaavik​

---

---

RAKATAN TEMPLE // GENERIS
PRESENT TIME // GENERISFALL

「SEEK AND DESTROY」
​

Another battle. Zaavik could complain, but he'd already written down every reservation and sent them through the holonet. There was nothing to do now but suck it up, and do his job. The trek through the jungle toward the Rakatan Temple was a difficult one. Were it so easy, he would have just opted to land the shuttle himself, right in front of the temple. But it was never that easy.

Viridescent plasma swung in wide arcs, hacking away vegetation that blocked their path. Zaavik cut a swath of singed foliage straight from the LZ to the egress of the temple grounds. Not exactly subtle, especially for a Shadow, but the time for subtlety was fleeting anyhow. The Sith knew they were under attack, and it was only a matter of time before they knew exactly where they were, too.

Their approach finally came to a head at the front of the temple. Zaavik stole a furtive glance toward his Padawan, taking stock of her nerves. The doors of the temple slid open with a stiff rumble, turning his attention forward.

"Trust in the Light."
"As I trust in you."​

He could feel the light wash over him at Dagon's whim, empowering every muscle and nerve in his body. There was calm within him now, calm that a battlefield did not beget manifesting. He nodded to Dagon. "Raya and I are splitting off here. Going to find a way to get in deeper without being seen. May the force be with you." A sideways bob of his head indicated a direction to his Padawan, and the two separated from the group, disappearing into a side passage.

Several dozen paces into their skulking, Zaavik turned down to Auraya, slowing to a manageable pace. "I can sense your uncertainty," he mentioned knowingly. "Just go where I go, do what I do, and stay close to me. We've got this." He tried to be reassuring, but even he knew there was only so much that words could do when one was standing in the shadow of the face of war. "Just think of it like uhhhh-? Hands-on learning." The morbidity of that suggestion went over his head.

At his lead, they managed to skulk through passages, slither through several shafts, and find several access avenues that led them into the Temple's bowels before they knew it. Labyrinthian and massive as the temple may be, wayfinding was the Shadow's art.

As they exited a tight shaft with a makeshift handhold latter, they came into a large, acoustic chamber. Dust was thick enough of the air that one could feel the grittiness on thier tongue. Zaavik pulled out a device, activated the screen, and began tapping some kind of sensor protocal. Rakatan signatures, Sith interference, unidentified comm signatures, anything. "Hey, you remember what I taught you? About looking inward? Do that, see if you can sense anyone."


ALLIES: GA / NIO: Dagon Kaze | Auraya Irath-Ur | Ryv | Violet Horne | Kaska Arden | Viers Connory | Viera
ENEMIES: TSE: Ariealla Vareldi

 

[SF-3335]

Location: Generis Base - Generis
Call Sign: Plasma Seven
Allies: TSE ( Marimax Mortui )
Enemies: NIO (Loros Kalaric Konrad Bolter Jax Sloane Arten Jinn DECEASED Erskine Barran Jiosha Relawny)

Generis base was a din of activity as Legionnaires and technicians moved to prepare for the defense of the Outer Rim Communications Center. Men, women, and droids moved in a chaotic, yet disciplined ritual as walkers, vehicles, and other machines of war were prepared as Legionnaires marched out to meet the incoming enemy. One such group of black-armored Legionnaires was the first sight Nixie saw as she emerged from the barracks, coming to a sudden halt in order to let the soldiers pass before moving towards the vehicle staging area, where her walker stood hunched over, ready for her to embark. Placing her helmet over her head, Nixie pulled herself up into the machine before pressing a few buttons on the central console to power it on after the security systems identified her as an authorized operator. It was then that the link activated, a sudden stream of data flowing into her mind as the Indrastra’s systems fed information to its pilot.

All systems were green.

With a single mental command, the hatch slid up and sealed, encasing Nixie’s tiny form within the armored cabin as the walker stood up to full height. Then, she willed her walker forward, moving in formation with her squadron where she would be tasked with providing escort to a group of repulsor tanks as they moved to engage the enemy armor formations in the forest.

“This is Plasma Four, reporting on station for escort duty. Is a sitrep available?” Nixie said, moving her machine alongside the formation of tanks as the walls of the base slowly disappeared behind them.

“Imp armor is closing in, fast. Mostly late model Cataphracts, but also a few walker groups. We’re going to cut them off at the flanks. Follow my lead. Contacts should be registering any second now.” The gruff voice of the tank company commander answered.

“My walkers will screen ahead.” Caelian Lsu, the walker platoon commander replied, the deep, yet noble bass of his voice carrying confidence over the comms as he spoke.

“Good. We’ll plug in the gaps. May His Will Eclipse the Stars.”

Then, they entered the heart of the jungle, ready to break the Imperial barbarians clawing at the gates.

Spoiler: Loadout

• “Indrastra” Sith Eternal AT-PW
  • Modular Internal Chin Weapon Hardpoint (2)
    • Korriban-II Heavy Machine Gun
    • Korriban-II Heavy Machine Gun
  • Universal Mass Driver Nano Missile Launcher (2)
    • High-Explosive Nano Missile (20)
    • High-Explosive Nano Missile (20)
  • Universal Gas Dissipation System (2)
    • Pink Vapor
    • Nagnol Gas
  • Cargo and Pilot Gear
    • DS-101 “Venture” Multipurpose Protective Attire
    • X8 “Gambit” Elite Disruptor Pistol

 

[Aaran Tafo]

Opposition: Saket Keane​

Another day in the endless war against the Sith. Another time that Aaran finds himself far behind enemy lines without any support. It was an experience he was fairly used to at this point. Self-sufficiency was an important part of Jedi training after all. And besides, the more chaos he caused on his own, the more resources his enemy would have to devote to stopping him. Resources that were not being used to oppose his friends.

But it did not make his job any easier. As a single opponent, getting into the temple itself was not overly difficult. Sneak by some guards, cause a distraction or two. And handle any opposition of note before they could rally their forces and engage the Galactic Alliance military or New Jedi Order.

At least that was the plan. He was not expecting to be found so early. He was hoping to get in deeper, plant some charges in key locations and cause some mayhem.

Saket Keane however, had other ideas. Sharp senses able to pluck the Jedi out from the dark before they could complete their act of sabotage. But instead of engaging, the Jedi decided to flee deeper into the labyrinthine halls of the temple complex. Almost daring the Acolyte to give chase. Probably not the wisest course of action. But the potential of Saket calling for reinforcements to help capture or eliminate Aaran were high enough that the Jedi was willing to risk the gamble to divert more of the enemy forces to himself. He felt himself more than capable of handling a few soldiers and a single Sith.

"Seriously? Several thousand years and you're still holding a grudge? Seems a bit petty~." His voice sing-songed through the echoing stone halls, alerting the Ubese to where the Jedi had fled, all in a hope of inciting the Sith to further fury in hopes they would chase down Aaran above all else.

 

[Auraya Irath-Ur]

Breathe In...
w/ Zaavik Perl & Ariealla Vareldi
​

Breathing, she had decided, was wholly overrated.​

​

As she stood there amidst her fellow Jedi, waiting to enter the belly of the beast, slugging their way through thick jungle undergrowth like lambs to the slaughter, each breath she took was shallow and unsatisfying.​

​

At least it wasn't another desert, she consoled herself. At least sand did not shift beneath her feet and threaten to knock her off kilter, to send her sliding down into the stomach of some archaic vessel. This time Auraya would not rush on foolhardy, this time she would do as she was bid. Even so, with each step her conversations with Kisaku Oroken relayed over and over in her mind. She knew what these expeditions did to those who were woefully unprepared, had seen the light fade from him.​

​

In such murky surroundings, it was hard to focus on much else.​

​

They were not alone, Master and Padawan, other Jedi had made this journey with them. One of whom she recognized. Well, Ryv too... But Dagon Kaze was the first person she'd truly met after leaving the Enclave, how long ago had that been now? She couldn't bring herself to form words in utterance to him as they trudged on and on, each step forcing her heart to sink further with the realization that if she didn't now there was a chance she might never.​

​

Alas, even as they came upon the Temple she had not said a word. As with the breathing, words would not flow freely. And so they broke away, and though she glanced back at him briefly nothing remained said.​

​

She followed Zaavik down into a side-passage of the Temple, each breath heavier and heavier as the dust was disturbed into the air. She had to resist the urge to cough, lest they further give their presence away. Her Master began to slow and so she did too, and broke the silence between them with a knowing statement; Raya could only nod in confirmation of the truth.​

​

"I'll do as you bid, Master," came her whispered response, when he tried to reassure her of what was to come. Training... But in training it was okay to fail. You could get back up. Here..?​

​

No.​

​

She could not think on that. Not right now. It was hard enough keeping her head up without such.​

​

So she didn't, she carried on behind him and eventually the pair came out of the passage and shafts into a larger space. It was even worse here, the air was thick and stagnant and her lungs burned in response. If not for Zaavik's new instructions she might have crumpled then and there. Instead she drew inward, calling upon the Force and reaching out with her senses. As though she were blindfolded once more, and it was all she had.​

​

It was difficult to keep the focus in a place such as that, even for one so pre-disposed to meditative acts. Her attention wavered, but she continued to bring it back whenever she drifted. This would not be a repeat of Jakku. She would not fail him...​

​

Right?​

 

[Rika Hiro]

L A D Y_S I L E N C E
NEW_IMPERIAL_ORDER
COMPNOR
Tag: Kelig Ward Don Belkora
Opposition: feel free to attack

Generis was one of the last gemstones still intact in the crown of the sith empire, an otherwise unremarkable world when compared to the monolithic might of Bastion or the majesty of Dromound Kaas. But in the eyes of her superiors and the order, it was a paramount stepping stone before the order would truly pierce the heartland of the Sith empire. Intel reports even had it that beneath the green labyrinths of Generis lay a piece of tech that would bring Empires to its knees and wrought entire dynasties to dust. At least agent Yubari would not have to deal with armed civilians and urban warfare again.

PRIORITY ONE. . . . .
SECURE COMPLEX. . . .
FOR AGENCY USE AND FOR THE GREATER GOOD. . . .
ALL OTHER FACTORS SECONDARY. . . .
ENGAGE OPFOR. . . .


The trio of COMPNOR operatives deployed in a small infiltrator shuttle that dropped the unit south of the Generis complex, Agent Yubari, Agent Ward and chief Belkora were to secure the facility in tangent with the Galidraani attack and Blines own unit. Asa herself was to infiltrate while Belkora and Ward secured the perimeter and dealt with hostiles that got too close. Once inside she'd secure files of interest and kidnap any station personnel of importance, and eliminate those who stood in her way. Asa split off from the others and used the jungle's undergrowth to sneak down an alternate path to the complex, armed with an agency standard issued needle gun with a silencer and a stiletto knife. Making her look comparatively harmless in comparison to Agent Ward who brought an anti-material sniper rifle.

Sith heat sensing technology would fail to pick up Yubari on the sensor array as she did not give off a heat signal, even the wildlife paid no attention to the HRD cloaked in the green abyss. She made a note of the pair of Sith patrolling ahead, picking up her comm piece and relaying back to Belkora and Ward.

<<"Agent Ward do you have sights on the two OPFOR ahead? take a shot if you can over.">>​

 

[Enyo Typhos]

Allies: TSE
Enemies: NIO/GA
Kaska Arden

Generis. Such a...generic name for a world that would become the latest killing field in the struggle between the Sith and their Imperial foes. The ancient Rakata Temple loomed before them as the dropship descended down from the sky. Supposedly, the temple housed a superweapon. Enyo was sceptical. She was even more sceptical about its efficacy. However, the credits were good. Besides, an opportunity to hunt Jedi was quite welcome. The folly of organics was no concern of hers.

One organic, however, was a cause of increasing annoyance. "Commander Typhos, what is your status?" the holographic Sith demanded imperiously. He stood ramrod straight, dressed in dark robes. The symbol of the Sith Eternal had been tattooed on his forehead.
"En route to the temple," Enyo said emotionlessly...blandly.

"Once you have landed, assist our efforts to locate the Crucifixion Engine plans. Once the weapon is in our grasp, we will unleash its might on the traitors and their Jedi dogs. The fools throw their legions at us, but they have walked right into our trap. The day of the revenge of the Sith is close. We shall unleash such terrible vengeance that generations yet unborn will cry out in agony."

Enyo looked indifferent. The dropship shuddered as it came under enemy fire and the droid pilot engaged in evasive manoeuvres. "Employ it more efficiently than the Ultima. Its first and only use ended...embarrassingly."
The Sith Master glowered at her. "The Ultima's destruction was the doing of cowards and traitors. Now that they have revealed themselves, the True Sith will crush them with a massive hammerblow."
"What is the situation on the frontline? How many materials and troops have gone unaccounted for? How many of your Masters have already cut their losses and ran off?"
The Sith made a dismissive gesture. "Blasphemy," he hissed. "All true sons and daughters of the Empire are ready to lay down their lives. Their sacrifice will bring about a triumph of the will. Everything that has transpired has been in accordance with the Supreme Master's design. Fulfil your task. When the Sith have remade the galaxy in fire and blood, they will reward those kept the faith...and punish those who succumbed to..."

Darth Vader had apparently been able to choke Imperial officers despite only having audio contact. Siobhan Kerrigan might be able to do that, too. Enyo, being weaker in the Force than her template, could not. But long-distance visual contact was sufficient. The Sith gasped, trying in vain to force oxygen into his lungs. Sadly, his windpipe was being crushed. "You are defective. Your superiors will designate a replacement," Enyo remarked blandly while the Sith's corpse crumpled to the ground. She terminated the connection.

The enemy fire was becoming a lot more intense. TIE fighters pounced upon the transport like birds of prey, pounding it. Enyo anchored herself to the floor to remain stable when the dropship was shaken badly and its shields flickered. The dropship rattled under the intense laser fire hammering the transport. The craft spun and accelerated drastically, trying to shake off the pursuers. Crimson beams of laser fire hit thin air. Being a droid, the pilot could engage in manoeuvres no organic could manage

Then suddenly an explosion shuddered outside the hull. Pressure built in the back of her head, a tell-tale warning from the Force of imminent danger she had grown accustomed to listening to. Enyo's cybernetic eyes locked with those of Neda Chazzak. No words were needed. Bail. The group of cyborgs and assassin droids moved as one. An HRD sprung the doors of the dropship open just as the others started hurdling themselves from the craft, out of both doors. And so Enyo dropped, pushing herself from the craft into a sky that was increasingly filling up with multi-coloured laser beams and detonations.

Shrapnel and fire erupted around the Terminatrix as she descended. Her servitors fell with military precision, firing off grenades and unloading projectiles and flame projectors with deadly efficiency upon enemy soldiers. Neda's heavy cannon roared, spewing salvoes of scarlet death. Jump packs activated to control their descent. Even as the rain of fire and debris caught up with them, Enyo's shotgun belched white-hot shards, tearing through a Jedi on the ground. Debris struck her and she landed hard upon the ground. She arose amidst the fire. Already, her mechanical servitors were moving to secure the area, raining carnage upon foes in the bushes. The temple loomed ahead of them.

 

[Viera]

Objective: Capture the Temple, Subdue Any Sith
Location: Generis, Rakatan Temple -> Heading Towards the Temple
Allies: NIO/GA - Viers Connory | Nearby - Dagon Kaze , Ryv , Violet Horne , Kaska Arden , Zaavik Perl , Auraya Irath-Ur
Enemies: TSE - Darth Strosius (Engaging), Alina Tremiru (Engaging)

​

So the time had come to answer the call to war. Didn’t seem like a lot of time had passed since the day Ryv had come to Jakku, to speak with Romi. And on that same day Dagon pleaded his case, asking them to join them in the next skirmish against the Sith Empire. The events of the previous had scarred them deeply, bringing forth a need of support of those gathered that day.

For Viera, it had been a fairly long time since she had been an active participant on a battlefield. Her past interactions had been tending to the wounded, or helping to transport refugees off planet. Sitting in the transport, amongst her fellow Jedi that were about to play life and death, she could feel the nerves trying to crawl their way up from her stomach.

The Thyrsian thought back on the advice her old Master used to give.

“Going into a fight after so long is like...getting back on a speeder bike. It’s going to take you a while to go straight again, not veering off in different directions. You’ll get the familiarity back. But what is most important Viera, is that you should go into it with a clear mind. Especially if you’re in charge of someone or a group of people.”​

Viera glanced over at Viers, who was seated next to her. The young woman had a grin on her face, adrenaline clearly simmering beneath the surface. She was a picture of enthusiasm, just like she had shown on Jakku. But it was just apparent how nervous Viers was too. This was her first active engagement on the battlefield, something that carried a lot of weight.

“You have to be mindful of not just yourself and the battlefield, but those under your care too.”​

She glanced over at Dagon this time. Not that he was someone under her care per se, not like Viers. But he had asked their help, to fight alongside them and ensure they didn’t stray from the path. Whether that was a general statement, of if the young Jedi was referring to himself.

Eventually their transport finally landed, rocking slightly as it hit the ground. Viera let out a deep breath, breaking from her quasi-meditation. She stood up with everyone else, forming into their individual groups before those that were leading them into battle.

The Thyrsian felt the effects of Force Valor, washing over everyone present. Viera looked at Dagon, catching his passing gaze and nodded.

“Trust in the Light.” She repeated, drawing her lightsaber and igniting the green blade. The illuminating light shining in tandem with her emerald eyes. “May the Force be with us all.”

As the group as a whole moved out, Viera looked to Viers and nudged her head, indicating for them to split off. While they would still be attacking the same area as the others, not going for the flanks would be a wasted opportunity.

“Disengage your lightsaber, Viers. We’re going to try and keep ourselves concealed for long as possible.” Viera spoke as she clipped her own weapon to her belt. While Zaavik and Auraya were going to try to sneak deeper into the temple, their objective wasn’t to remain concealed for that long.

Just enough to get close to the defences, try and leap in behind them and tear ‘em down.

“In anticipation of a frontal assault, the Sith have no doubt erected defences to keep us at bay. But their forces are going to have their weaker spots. We’re going to take advantage of one of those, get behind their defences.”

And they just so happened to have a lot of nearby flora to physically conceal their sideways approach.

 

[Kaska Arden]

D A N C EㅤTHEㅤS 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
Dagon Kaze | Violet Horne | Viera | Viers Connory
Ryv | Zaavik Perl | Auraya Irath-Ur

E N E M I ESㅤT S E
Enyo Typhos

There was a sense of dread and discomfort standing in the shadow of the ancient temple ruins. The air itself thick and heavy in a manner that extended well beyond the humid climes they had experienced on the trek through the jungle. Kaska had experienced something similar on Coruscant only a few weeks prior. Though the jungle there was more urban than biological, the storehouse she and Ilian Kastle had delved into carried the same feeling that something awaited them inside.

Something old, unfathomably alien and inescapably dark.

She suppressed a shiver - and then another one as Dagon's presence brushed over them like a gentle breeze. Sweeping away the tension, fatigue and weariness that had built up over the trek through the jungle. Even managing to take the edge off the temple's foreboding presence to a lesser degree.

"'Trust in the light as I trust in you.''" The Nyriaanan repeated softly, her lips turning up slightly in the corners as she moved past the padawan. Forcing humor into her voice to cover her misgivings. "Real inspiring there, Kaze. Did you get that out of a fortune cookie or did you spend all night writing it yourself?"

She didn't wait for an answer. Unfortunately for him, she had no real fancy tricks to offer in kind. No fancy, vaguely inspiring sounding words. No pieces of advice they likely hadn't heard countless times before today. The best she could offer was what she assumed was a reassuring if not-so-gentle punch to his upper arm as she passed, sparing the rest of the party a small nod as she did so. "Watch each other's backs. Mind your surroundings. Try not to die."

Without another word or a second glance, she followed the shadow and his partner's lead, ducking off into another side passageway to cover more ground. The comforting weight of her saber finding its way into her hand the moment she vanished from view. Following her gut instinct and the distant sounds of combat to lead her where the Force demanded.

 

[Eira Dwynwen]

Tags: Djorn Bline Loske Treicolt
Equipment: Vibrosword, two daggers
Attire: Super Practical Jungle Outfit
Allies: TSE
Enemies: NIO
​

Why was the Twi'lek on the stuffy, humid jungle region of Generis? She had no real idea, she had been assigned to the world to assist the TSE forces, she had mixed feelings about the military lot of people she had met, she respected their situation and taking the job serious, but not wanting to dance and do some karaoke was absurd. What were weekends for but dancing and singing the nights away?! She questioned the humanity in these people, perhaps they were just super realistic robotics since they didn't want to relax and enjoy themselves. There were a couple that she was able to convince with some flirty and sad eyes, but they disappeared not long after getting caught partying hard with Eira. She decided to leave the base and check out the surrounding areas, plenty of officials and military men told her that she should wear something practical or some armour, to which Eira was adamantly against. Armour was heavy and rubbed against her smooth skin, hard no and the gear without the armour looked heavy and cumbersome which was a definite no from Eira. She selected something that she could fight in, not the best for fighting, but she didn't think donning her dancing silks would look good when strolling through the jungle on her own.

Eira was strolling slowly and looked around the nature, she wasn't huge fan of nature, it didn't excite her like a cityscape did. An underworld was perfect but any city with decent cantinas and drinks was all that she needed to have a laugh. Nature was boring, it just had animals and animals didn't have interesting conversations or the ability to slip secrets to her that she could sell. Eira sighed before she blinked and dropped to a deep crouch, training kicked in as she heard something happening in the distance. She had heard rumours of NIO could be leading an invasion to this location and Eira had something she needed to do, her real mission to Generis. The spy was interested in seeing what the NIO was like and if they might believe her to be a civilian, another reason not to don the terrible military attire, if she wanted to infiltrate the NIO then appearing to have as loose a connection as possible to TSE then easier it would be for her to infiltrate.

Thinking about the situation as she could hear more clearly the sounds of military marching and moving with tanks and other NIO vehicles. Eira kept quiet and unsheathed her sword, holding it firmly in her hand, she wasn't sure how skilled in fighting she should reveal but she did want to look useful and someone that NIO would want to recruit. Breathing out slowly, Eira waited slowly seeing if there was someone she could pick off and attack. Her plan was detailed in her head but she needed to pick one of them off for the plan to work best.

 

[Kainan]

Y O U N G _ C O N Q U E R O R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
IMPERIAL KNIGHT
KNIGHT OF THE EMPIRE
Armour | Lightsaber
Engaging: Kascalion Giedfield

P E A R L Y _ G A T E S
​

Ebony eyelids snapped up, pale blue eyes finding the backdrop of green from the surrounding forests, and a rising swirl of black. The smoke from the ruins of his Interceptor. His hands pressed against the surface he laid on, digits curling towards his palm in an attempt to grab onto anything. Finding no purchase, both of his hands tightened into fists, his wits rushing back in as he coughed. His legs drawing upwards into his core, pushing up from the ground as he sat back on his haunches.

Familiar presences in the Force pressed against the edge of his mind. The other Knights of the Empire were arriving, led by the Lord Executor Rurik Fel himself. A bastion of strength and resolve, his presence alone would bolster the other Knights, no matter what they come across on the assault of the Temple. Intel suggested that the Sith were fond of utilizing rituals of vast power to combat the combined force of both the New Jedi Order and the Imperial Force Corps.

Blinking away the illusion of drowsiness that had settled upon him after his body's crash landing, fuzzy shapes, multiple copies of each began to come together and form into singular shapes. Slightly swaying in his spot on the ground, Kainan raised a hand up to his head, brushing through his dark locks, squeezing a handful of hair and feeling a trail of blood trace down the side of his face. That hand came down, wiping away the drop of blood and pushing up to his feet. Before he could even register it, his hand was dropping to his hilt and snatching it up from his belt.

The oppressive presence of the self-proclaimed Force Deity pressed on the outer limits of his mind, and he instantly rose up to his feet. Held out in his left hand, he turned to face the dubbed Devil. The ruler of Helgard, scorned by the defeat and razing of his cities.

Here on Generis.

Revenge.

Kainan's lips parted into a wide smile as Kascalion Giedfield spoke.

The words that fell from his mouth... Sith trickery and manipulation. The Dread Autarch had no reason to know who the young Knight was before him. Not his heritage, or how he came to be. The perverse nature of his creation was far beyond his own understanding. Not that he needed to. It was simple. He existed. And his past as Sith was a blemish that he had rubbed away at on Bastion. That shining armour he wore was the soap, and his Knighting was his welcome to a new family.

Kill him, Kainan. This is... Your... My final test. Free of the Sith, forever.

"Lord Executor," Kainan mouthed. No sound came from his mouth, for he reached out to connect to Rurik Fel directly through the Force. "I engage the Devil, Kascalion Giedfield. For the Empire."

Facing off with the Devil himself. Kainan yearned for the chance to test his martial ability against him.

"I count down the days until I get to next face the Sith. But, if a sit down is what you wish, I'm sure there'll be no qualms with me placing your severed head on a table?"

SNAP-HISS.

Immediately the resplendent blade sprouted from its hilt. The Force instantly weaved itself around him, the summoning of it so smooth, to say it was second nature would be an understatement. The Youthful Knight, with the metaphysical backing of the Force empowering him, lurched forwards towards the proclaimed Sith'ari. Fearless, or perhaps foolish, it made no difference to him, infamous or no. The Sith must die.

From the ground up, the argent beam of plasmatic fury slashed across his torso, from right to left, from left to right and sought the advantage granted by being on the offensive. A blur of silver and black, Kainan drew from his emotions deeply. For underlying the cool nature that he had fashioned in his time amidst the Imperials, there was a resentment for himself. And from that font of hatred, he fueled the violent form of Vaapad.

 

[Ariealla Vareldi]

Equipment: Sith Sword (In signature), Saberstaff
Attire: Regalia, Cape (Both in signature)
Allies: TSE
Enemies: GA/NIO | Specifically Zaavik Perl and Auraya Irath-Ur
Today's Program: A Waltz


Death came, and so she would listen.​

Ariealla Vareldi could hear it, the way the Force sung to her, granted her the pleasure of hearing its sweet, bitter melodies. The Force was filled with raw, murderous intent, from this collective of souls come to bear their hatreds on their sleeves. So very proud they all were, Sith, Jedi, Whatever they called themselves, proud to serve or to bring death to their enemies for service of a 'cause'. And yet, so many seemed ignorant of just how their melodies and harmonies became twisted, modulated into a cacophony of the most dissonant order. Unaware of its beauty.

How she wept for them.

A small, stifled giggle escaped her throat, the image alone producing a sort of joke to her. The idea of feeling genuine pity for them, all of them, any of them, how absurd! It did bring her joy, though, to pretend to care about such things. Pretending was one of life's few remaining pleasures, playing the part of a person, with genuine emotion, oh it really tickled her fancy... such as the role she played now. Wandering the passageways of the Rakatan Temple, using Force Cloak and Stealth to remain invisible to the senses of all but the most attentive of Jedi, pretending to care for the object inside. Rakatan superweapons, she never understood why they were so beloved by empires long since dead, nor those still holding onto life. They held power, yes, but nothing one could not one day achieve with the Force.

All the same, it gave her a reason to be out, about, and to wage war against an ancient enemy. To put on her beloved regalia and cape, and to slowly waltz through the broken hallways, the dilapidated stonework echoing every so often as she kept time to the music in her head. Her eyes darted about, seeking out her first victims, even as she reached out in the Force to feel about where her eyes could not follow. Much to her disappointment, having wandered so far in and about the temple without direction or purpose, even as death and explosions rang through the air, she could not sense anyone worth her notice.

So she listened to the Force, to the golden melodies of death, until wandering closer to one of the larger spaces in the Temple. It was then that she heard a new harmony, one that tried to stay unheard under the rest. So someone, no, two someones had split from the rest? How perfect for her! She moved to the doorframe, and remained invisible as the door slid open. How would these two react to a door with no one behind it, she wondered? Would they be able to sense her, or able to see the faint shimmers of light bending around her? Or was it too dark, too stressful? She waited just a moment, before quietly stepping into the room herself.

The time had come to compose their song.

 

[Darth Ahriman]

Allies: The Sith Empire.
Location: Landing on Generis.
Apparel: Simple Jedi Robes.
Weapons: Jedi Training Saber.

​

Generis would have been the first world within Sith Space that the civilian transport had landed upon in order to refuel for the remainder of its voyage towards Dromund Kaas had it not been for the misfortune of being in the right place at the wrong time. The civilian transport was a personnel carrier, shipping naught but people and their belongings to their desired worlds across the stars, soon to befall the sight of two warring fleets overhead.

Valen woke with a start to the sound of alarms ringing overhead, others nearby panicking while the flight crew tried to keep everyone calm. The young man of only eighteen years had left the safety of Kashyyyk in the pursuit of a lead that might be tied to his origins, his family, a cult following of Typhojem, some apparent deity of the Sith, who also seemed to be where the Cult had originated from itself. It wasn't much to go on, but then he didn't exactly have any other leads, nor did the Silver Jedi appear interested in helping him track down those who had enslaved him on Arcadia-N-30.

The intercom system announced an emergency landing, and while not seated near one of the viewing ports of the transport, he could see the flash of red and green upon the scared faces of passengers who were watching and trying to comprehend the danger they'd entered into. The ship rocked as though something had struck its rear quarters, yet from inside Valen could only imagine the worst of it, able to do nothing but wait and hope that they weren't blown apart.

As the Transport neared orbit, the sound of TIES could be heard, first as they screamed passed the civilian ship with blasters blazing, the captain's voice sounding off once more over the speakers as he informed the passengers of their escort, the Empire providing what it could to aid them in their reaching Generis, and from there breaking off to return to the fleet. For the time being, it had been decided that they would seek emergency landing outside of any city settlements until the crew could acquire a better handle on the situation, wanting to keep their crew and passengers safe and afar from any major areas under siege.

Once settled upon solid ground and the engines sounding off, the crew aboard the bridge attempted to contact the nearest port of authority while those on deck moved to exit the transport and establish a perimeter around the ship. Many of the Passengers themselves seemed to move in and out of the transport, curious and feared of their newfound circumstance, wanting to feel as though there remained some form of control, whether by complaining or doing what they could to assist.

For Valen, the reality of the situation had yet to sink in, yet he wasn't content to just sit and wait for help to arrive. He had already been through so much in what felt like such a short space of time. Every hour spent sitting and waiting for someone was an hour wasted where he could have been doing something to further his search. Generis was the first world within Sith Space that he'd been on, and so it seemed that this was where he was going to have to start.

He'd just have to find the right time to slip away unnoticed, and head toward the nearest sight or sounds of life elsewhere.