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defy the tyrannous stars
"You think you can take whatever you want! Things you didn't make, didn't earn; things you don't even understand!"
- Ezra Bridger
Alliance Complex, Lothal City
Planetary Shield Strength: 15%
1700 Hours System Standard

The entire surface was in chaos.

Captain [member="Sol Stazi"] of the Sixty-First Mobile Infantry Company shouldered his way through this undisciplined rabble that called themselves the heart of Defense Force operations planetside. He had been off duty enjoying what little entertainment this rust belt's capital held to offer for as long as his shore leave lasted when word of the First Order's arrival in force had finally leaked to the public.

By the time he had made it outside the run down little cantina he had been holed up in when the news broke, the city's streets were in complete disarray. Sol had narrowly avoided more than one close call from out of control landspeeders to stampeding civilians on his way to his objective, the primary Alliance Complex at the very heart of Lothal City.

"Sergeant Khalua! Bones!" he shouted, flagging down the first of his own men he came across, "Report!"

"Captain Stazi! Thank the Force!" Sergeant Khalua hustled over, followed closely by one of Twilight Company's surgeons, a Vratix whose actual name was so unpronounceable in Basic that everyone just called him Bones, "It's a gorram mess here!"

The Nabooian noncom filled him in on their tactical situation to the best of his knowledge. For months the entire planet had been waiting for the hammer to drop, drilling on what to do in just such a circumstance, and still somehow the First Imperials had managed to take them by near complete surprise. Shortly after their warfleet's arrival in system there had been some kind of massive explosion aboard the planet's Uldyr defense station, throwing their orbital defenses into disarray and eliminating much of their command hierarchy.

By the time General Anders had managed to assume some kind of control here at the Complex, the bombardment of Lothal's planetary shields had already begun. Khalua believed it would be a matter of minutes, not hours before it failed completely and the real fighting began. In the meantime, the General was about to address them before battle.

"Soldiers of Lothal, warriors of the Alliance, hear me!" as if on cue, General Anders' voice was broadcasted throughout the Complex, his Eriaduan features covering every holodisplay, "The enemy is at the gate! Take heart, distress calls have been sent to Sullust and Fondor, all we need to do is-"

His speech ended abruptly when a crimson lightsaber exploded out of his chest cavity.

"For the Lady of Shadows! For the Empi-"

The signal cut out.

"We've been compromised!" Sol grabbed Khalua by his uniform and nearly threw his sergeant towards the main threshold, "Get on comms and get everyone back here fething now! We need to start fortifying for ground assault!"

"What about you?!" Khalua shouted back shortly before he was lost in the turmoil all around them.

"I've got a Sith to hunt," the duros muttered to himself, drawing his heavy blaster.

FIV Invictus, Vanguard Class Fleet Carrier
In Orbit Above the Planet Lothal
1705 Hours System Standard

On the bridge stood Captain Ulfurin Tartis. A proud man dressed immaculately in his officer’s uniform. His dark skin spotless, his hair trimmed in a short orderly fashion and face shaved to perfection. He was the epitome of the perfect First Order officer. He gazed down at the peaceful world below. It would not remain peaceful for long.

The world had been disarmed in the treaty handed down between the First Order and Galactic Alliance in wake of the Alliance’s defeat at Hoth. The treaty the Supreme Leader had mysteriously and suddenly discarded in favour of more war a few months before.

Not that Captain Tartis would openly question the actions of the Supreme Leader, that would tantamount to treason.

He had not complained when the navy moved in to blockade the far most systems from the Alliance’s wealthier core worlds nor had he complained as they pushed further out into the putrid swamp of Dagobah. It was all part of the plan to split the enemy’s territory apart and overwhelm the cut off pocket. It seemed that plan had changed as he’d been made aware of by a mysterious and most sinister young woman.

“The Supreme Leader’s patience is at an end,” she had said, her voice somehow sweetness and venom both at once. “The Alliance still supplies their far flung territories despite victory upon victory on the battlefield. He has grown weary of these strategies, it would have been swifter to take it all by force directly! Lothal will be ours by right of conquest. The Fondor shipyards shall be dust, Coruscant terrorised and Sullust in ruins. This is Sieger’s will.”

Tartis had protested, he had been pleased with the initial plan. Draining the Alliance’s worlds of supply would make them easier to mop up later but the woman, this small yet terrible woman, had spoke with his voice and he could not be denied.

Beyond blind loyalty the strategy was there. Despite their best efforts, Lothal was not being drained of supply, it was not becoming weaker. Quite the opposite. It was rearming. Striking now, before it was complete, was sound.

Tartis was merely disappointed that his orders for it had come not from his superiors in the military but this… girl. The same one who stood next to him now.

Although Tarpis did not know her name, it was [member="Samka Derith"], Master of the Knights of Ren. She was smiling, seemingly transfixed on the world in their sights. It was a bright smile which would look endearing on her were it not tainted by the sickening Darkness which swirled within and around her presence. The Dark Side in her was clear even to a man like Tartis.

“This is where it began, Captain,” her voice was soft and she did not spare so much as a glance at him. Were he not personally addressed, he might think that she spoke to herself. The girl seemed mad enough to do so. “I was there but a weak little child at the time. I return as a conqueror,” a humourless snort followed. “Look at them,” In the background, Star Destroyers pummeled heavy fire down at Lothal’s shields. “This invasion force is a far cry from the small strike team I came with before.”

Captain Tartis nodded, what else could he do? The man could not reminisce with the young woman about events he was not party to. “Once the shields are down, I’ll deploy my fighters to cover your approach and the bombers to destroy ground defences.”

“Good,” she turned to beam at the captain. “I hope your men and women know what they’re doing, could you imagine if they let the Supreme Leader get shot down by a Lothal farm boy in an outdated X-Wing?”

At these words, Captain Tartis spun to face her, his jaw agasp. He hadn’t been privy to this information. “The… Supreme Leader has joined us?” The Captain found his words flounding. Sieger Ren so rarely took a personally role in their conquests.

“Indeed,” the girl replied, Tartis noticing once more just how eerily pale she was. “It’s of critical importance that we succeed. The Sith will strike soon and with it our opportunity comes.”

“The Sith?” The Officer’s lips pursed together in displeasure. The Sith claimed to bring order but left death in their wake. Their Empire, while sharing interests with the First Order, was morally reprehensible. “I will not be a collaborator to another Sith massacre!”

“The Sith’s whims and pleasures are not our concern,” with that his anger was dismissed with a flippant gesture of the girl’s hand and somehow he felt compelled to listen. “Only how much use they are to throw at the enemy and I think they’ll be very useful indeed.”

She smirked at him and Tartis knew she knew something he didn’t. This woman was infuriating yet far too oddly intimidating for him to stand up to. Did this make him a coward? No. It made him an Imperial. Loyal to his superiors.

“I’ll begin landing, the bulk of our forces shall be heading to Lothal City but don’t let that distract you. You are to concentrate foremost on defending the craft heading to the Jedi Temple. The Supreme Leader’s goal lies there, all else is a distraction,” the mysterious woman clad in black turned to leave and Tartis released a breath he did not know he had been holding. The further she walked, the warmer the air became. “I want your fighters ready to scramble.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he nodded respectfully at the small figure leaving the bridge, still unsure of what to make of the encounter. The spooks always made him uneasy but that one was special.

Turning back to the world they orbited, Captain Tartis frowned. What had made this unremarkable world so special? Perhaps that would soon be made clear. By the end of the day, Lothal would be theirs.

Lothal Jedi Temple
Planetary Shield Strength: 10%
1710 Hours System Standard

Gather the Temple Masters, to Inquisitor [member="Varex"], commands came easily, Dispatch Sentinels to the capital at once.

Some would call that a breach of their Code, who believed that a Jedi should always serve and never lead. But the Vaemath Jedi Knight had grown up on a world where hierarchy was everything, and the New Jedi Order's philosophy was that defending the Light was paramount over all other considerations. Today, that philosophy may very well save lives.

The Jedi Inquisitor had been dispatched to this world following another unlikely lead on this so called Order of Shadows operating within Alliance space, confidence bolstered only slightly by the knowledge that this mission came directly from Grand Marshal [member="Taeli Raaf"] herself. Instead, he had found himself in the middle of a system wide siege.

Nevertheless, Varex was confident that ultimately this incursion would be repelled. When he had first felt a deep disturbance along with the rest of the Temple that had shortly preceded the First Order's arrival, he had sent a personal message to the Grand Marshal informing her of the current situation here. It was now just a matter of biding enough time.

Ignorant as he was of events transpiring even now on Coruscant and Fondor, the Jedi Knight had no way of knowing that their requested reinforcements would never arrive.


With Defense Fleet forces in this sector all but scattered by a massive enemy blockade group, there is nothing to stop the First Order's impending planetary assault. It is only a matter of time before their artillery ships in orbit overwhelm Lothal's shields, and what's left of the Alliance command structure is rallying in the capital's main Complex.


The Lothal Jedi Temple has stood as a beacon of the Lightside throughout the Outer Rim ever since it was restored by the New Jedi Order. Some would argue that the Temple's uncompromising response to unauthorized Ren activity on Lothal is what precipitated this entire conflict. The Jedi prepare their defenses and dispatch aid to Lothal's cities, unaware that this sacred ground is the Order of Ren's true objective.
She's a total blam-blam
Peyton had been sent off to Lothal, a world she never understood why the Alliance had held onto it. What was here? A bit of history? Tactically speaking, she couldn’t find a reason to hold it. Not with the current pressures on the Alliance from the First Order, this world was a thorn in the side of the dark counterpart of the Galactic Alliance, sure, but it was so damned difficult to supply and defend. But they were here, putting the last stand.

She had been here for the better part of the month, collecting information on the First Order movements in advance of Project Vanguard’s completion. And now? Now was the time that the First Order was making their move. She had been watching from her station, until the call came out. That meant everyone with weapons certifications was moving. She nodded to her relief and headed over to the armory to gather her rifle and armor.

She was hurrying, and checking what systems she could. Fortification. This was not a good sign. If the Force was going to work for her, it better work now.

“This is Specialist Steele to Sergeant Khalua, en route to your location.”

[member="Sol Stazi"]

Iturizu Yuvie

Be carfule what you wish for
Yuvie walked at the top of the Jedi step, his heavy armor clunking against the stone ground as the sudden all around attack raced through his mind, not just a few day ago he had been with the Silver Jedi at a resort, earlier helping the New Jedi Order dispatch of One Sith Remanent around Corellia. Now, this, the entire Galactic Alliance seemed to be in turmoil and the First Order posing to attack Lothal, the planet on a key salient in the current borders between the two powers. He had once served this planet when some rouge Sith Lord attacked it, killing people left right and center with no regard for life, and it seemed that once again the Mirlian would aim to protect the people of this world, the question was for how long?

Unlike before this was not some rouge Sith with a single star destroyer, no this was an entire invasion from the First Order, their Knights of Ren being far more fanatical then most Sith he knew, or had known, at least that was what the sorties say. All the former Sith could do was wait, and see what would happen, and what these Ren would do. If the First Order was anything like the Galactic Empire she served the ever present threat of civilians casualties was there, and more over with only several large population centers to pick the First Order had easily identifiable targets to choose from. "I have a a bad feeling that today will being much blood shed, but will it be on us, them, or both"?
The Restless
Location En route to the Jedi Temple
Equipment: Raiment of the Vigilant, Vader's Bane Lightsaber
Allies: [member="Sieger Ren"], [member="Varas Ren"], [member="Oregano"], [member="Ara Zambrano"] [member="Racosidae"] [member="Samka Derith"]
Music: Kara Remembers (BSG soundtrack)
Enemies: New Jedi Order
Objective, End the New Jedi Order, Claim the secrets of the Temple.

Kyrel could remember it all, remember the pain, the sensors he could see that gave a pale imitation to what would be considered sight. He saw infrared and information that showed in his hud, his arms had no feeling against the phantom pain that resided in his limbs and only worsen everytime he moved, the systems that were connected to every orifice in his body that fed him liquid nutrients and allowed him to breathe from the life support within his suit, surrounded by what would be considered a blinding light that he found repulsive. Embracing his darker instincts all the while surrounded by nothing but darkness and Kyber crystals. For the self-proclaimed Enforcer of Ren, and the Heir to Vader. This was where it all began years ago, the Knights of Ren emerged from the shadows and made themselves known to the Jedi in the kyber enriched caves of Lothal. Only then he was more machine then man, only a fraction of the power he held then compared to now as flesh and blood. There he had gained the crystal to which he bled to create his own Lightsaber, that same lightsaber now wielded by his own daughter Varas Kyrel more fierce than her Father and even more fearless, now here for a momentous occasion to witness and take part in the destruction of the New Jedi Order. Years of War and countless encounters had led to this moment.

His vision that he received on Dagobah prior to this would come true, the Force had granted him the foresight in which the dark side takes its revenge. He was more than pleased as when he first heard of it, he couldn't help but break his composure and grin like a madman. Perhaps Decitus was rubbing off on him, but to say he was more than pleased was an exaggeration. In fact, he did not wait to tell his beloved Daughter of the news in a hologram before she and he were both summoned by their Master. The Supreme Leader himself. He had informed them that they were to leave immediately, his eyes set on the destruction of both the Jedi and the Jedi Temple itself, with the secrets wishing to belong to him. The Lothal Jedi Temple was no ordinary Jedi Temple as the former mechanical monstrosity knew of one great secret that has been saught by all for centuries. The rumored World between Worlds. An ancient secret as old as the Galaxy itself, and were created by the celestials. Those that could open it would be in a mystical plane. He had heard that such a door from the Empire's records would lead one to beyond Time and Space. Only entered by ones who had accessed a painting of the ones. He had hoped such a key part of the temple existed and could be recovered for the Supreme Leader.

Besides the recovery of Ancient secrets, his primary objective was the downfall of the New Jedi Order. To carry out another Jedi Purge on the scale of the one carried out by both Vader and Sidious centuries ago. Attacked at the infamous Jedi Temple on Coruscant soon by the Sith Empire. Soon the Jedi would be scattered, or even better most of them would all die on this day, but for Kyrel there was something far important than the death of the Jedi. Most importantly carry out Sieger's will and for that purpose all Ren came to answer his call, Overlord of Ren Decitus Ren, Arch-Queen Ara Zambrano known among her Brothers and Sisters as Sarathiel Ren, his own Daughter the clone of himself and Dark Jedi Tmoxin Temi known as Knight of Ren Varas Kyrel, now known as Varas Ren, and the Disciples among them Oregano and Racosidae. They were all summoned by Sieger Ren for this purpose, and on this day by his will the Jedi would fall. The Great Galactic War would end today.

He sat in the transport that would carry the rest of his Brothers and Sisters eagerly awaiting their Dark Master's command. Wearing the dark side Imbued Raiment of the Vigilant, an armor belonging to a Force Sect, reworked by Kyrel modified with influences taken from Ubese, Mandalorian and most of all Sith such as that of Vader himself. Added with Kyrel's blade of power, and a pure weapon of the dark side fitting for the dark warrior known as Vader's Bane. He was ready for the assault as he sat next to Varas, a woman now who had grown so much under the tutelage of Sarathel, he couldn't have been more proud or honored that his Daughter was a student of the Arch Queen. Awaiting for departure and the next move he sat in nervous excitement conversing with her his voice distorted, sinister and metallic as it hid his cold and calculating tone. "I do hope you join me, Varas.. We have fought together too often it should only be fitting if you will be by my side. Your Master might require you, but I ask of you will you join me.. To end the Jedi together and to embrace our destinies.?" He had said as he lovingly placed his claw covered gloved left hand on her shoulder. He may have done horrendous and evil things, but he still loved his daughter more than anything, she was his life and the only person who he could ever love in his life. Not a love that was simply brought by a woman... No something perhaps deeper that despite the darkness that made him irredeemable beyond repair, but was the one thing he could cling to the most in his horrible existence.

Kaeshana, Mustafar, Skor II, Hoth, Hydian Way, Dagobah, Varonat. It had all led to this, all the lives lost, the countless destruction caused by both sides it had come to this at last. the Great Galactic War would come with a violent end to the Alliance in one swift stroke. With this attack made by both The Sith and the First Imperials would break the spine of the galaxy, and a new age of order and peace would come. From the moment he had killed [member="Zark"] during the blockade of the Hydian Way, he was tempted by the light but knew his place and that place was now. This was his purpose to see the Jedi end today, to see the Alliance end today with a savage strike on Lothal, and to show that the First Order were the saviors of the Galaxy, from the loathsome Alliance, and the murderers known as the Jedi. With the fleet already arriving above the system, Kyrel couldn't help but think that today begins a new era where the Galaxy would soon be united under one order, one vision.
A New Beginning
"It was a critical and anxious time when the hostilities were commenced, but the army was determined. We knew to fight to the last man in defence of the Empire."
Marshal Yamagata, 1905.
Aboard the FIV Archon,
Marauder-Class Medium Cruiser,
Orbiting Lothal.

In observation deck of the FIV Archon, Madelyn felt the thrum of the weapons discharging their fury on the shield below, vibrations travelling up her legs. Around her, vessels from the 6th fleet rained fire down, slowly eating away at the shield that protected the planet below, a fast-disintegrating barrier that separated the First Order from the defenders below. Soon, it would dissapate entirely, and they would descend upon them with terrible fury.

So this is what it had come to. The war that she'd protested was coming to a head. She didn't kid herself, she understood that consequences would be severe for both sides. Even if they were to defeat the Alliance here on Lothal, it would be a Pyrrhic victory. The First Order would be crippled by this campaign, just as surely as the Alliance would be all but destroyed. That is why she'd protested the war, even at the risk of resisting the will of the Supreme Leader. Of course, nobody had listened. Madelyn was forced to conform just as much as any other citizen of the Order.

So the Governor had swallowed her words, and followed orders, and here they were. For better or for worse, today was the day.

The attack had been coordinated with the calculated efficiency typical of the First Order. First, the preparations had been made: increased spending, recruitment, and rationing. Next, stations were discreetly positioned as staging points for the invasion force. In the days before the attack, the fleet was assembled, supplied, and prepared, each constituant part passing through the Ison Corridor to pickup troops and ammunition before heading off to their various rendezvous points. Then, it begun. With almost no warning to the Alliance the ships had appeared and quickly blockaded the system. Response from the defenders was quick, and they'd successfully prevented being totally overrun, but for now the First Order and their armada held the advantage.

Somewhere, among the mass of ships, was the Supreme Leader himself. The extended campaign had worn his patience thin, so they said. Madelyn thought it more likely that the war had worn more on their coffers. Something had to give soon, and the plan was for it to be the Alliance.

The shield faltered, but held. It had to be near breaking point now. All around, in the bellies of the Imperial vessels, troop ships were nestled. Carriers and transports flew alongside larger escorts. All were ready to pounce the moment the shield went down.

Any minute now.
Location: En route to the Jedi Temple
Equipment: In Signature
Allies: [member="Kyrel Ren"] [member="Sieger Ren"] [member="Oregano"], [member="Ara Zambrano"] [member="Racosidae"] [member="Samka Derith"]
Music: Burn
Enemies: New Jedi Order
Objective: End the New Jedi Order, Claim the secrets of the Temple.

The moment she’d been training for her entire life had finally come. And the girl held no trepidation.

Her father could feel her strength now. Under Sarathiel Ren’s tutelage, Varas Ren had thrived. Mistakes made on Dagobah would not be made again.

This time she wanted Kyrel Ren to notice the change in her. This time she hoped his lightsaber would whisper its secrets, haunting ambient noises which used to unsettle her, but which she now welcomed. And her father himself was full of caustic energy over the promise of marching upon the Jedi Temple with Sarathiel, Decitus and Sieger Ren himself.

To her Kyrel's request of joining him, fighting by his side as they’d had many times - he’d trained her after all - Varas responded, “I will do as my Master commands me, Father.” Smirking behind her mask, a flush of pride emerging on her cheeks, she added, “But I am honored to hear those words from you versus, you’ve failed me again today.” The tone of her voice would emit a mixture of both joviality and resentfulness.

As his hand touched her shoulder she considered a thought that may please him and said it aloud. “One of these days I will kill her too.” As Kyrel had executed his own mother, Varas had matricide in mind for Tmoxin, a fitting tribute to her father.

Varas closed her eyes and meditated upon the Darkside, calling the Lothal Temple up from her memory of holomodels. Impossible to enter without the use of the Force and highly defended by the Alliance’s Jedi Sentinels, she envisioned lifting the spire and smashing it from the inside out with telekinesis, a feat far beyond her power, but a pleasing thought just the same.
The Jedi Iroh
Jedi Temple
[member="Kyrel Ren"]

Tiland set down his now-empty cup of tea. Only the fragments of tea-leaves remained in the dregs at the bottom of the cup. The old Jedi frowned beneath his beard. Such had become of the Alliance as well. It was of small matter though, for such was the fate of all governments in time. They were leaves clinging to branches as winter fell. They would hold for a little while, but no more. In the end, they were temporary things. Only the Force was eternal. Only life continued.

Slowly, and with reverence, Tiland poured out the tea-dregs onto the grass, and wiped the mug out with a cloth. With that, he replaced it in his satchel and draped it across his shoulder. He rose, leaning on his staff, and made his way to the entrance of the temple.

There he stood, standing watch as the lasers exploded through the atmosphere as they continued to hammer the shields. The Knights of Ren would be coming to the Temple. He knew it as well as he knew the feel of the wooden staff in his gnarled hands. One, he had seen that they would come. Two, they were quite predictable, and always targeted Jedi temples. It was some sort of odd vendetta that nobody quite understood.

So, when they came, Tiland would be there waiting for them, just as he had always waited for the arrival of the Dark for the past five centuries.

Lyra Sunfell

[member="Sol Stazi"] [member="Peyton Steele"]

Lyra clicked the safety off of her sidearm as she leaned against the bulkhead. The betrayal had caught them off guard. Half of the ranking officers were dead, another quarter were all traitors, and that left only a few of them. The same had gone for the lower ranks as well, at least to the best of her knowledge. Oddly enough, to the best of her knowledge, Twilight had been immune to the infiltration. A grim smile rippled across her face. Who'd have thought high casualty rates and open recruitment would have protected them from that?

One of the traitors crept around the corner. Lyra lunged, jamming her mechanical arm into his torso, followed by the blaster hilt to the temple. He went down like a stone. She grabbed his carbine and comlink before creeping through the corridor.

It was imperative that she get out of the command complex. It was too vulnerable and too compromised.

"Stazi," she said through the comm, "This is it. We can't hold against this. Secure the Firebird. Get all the civvies and loyalists you can aboard." She took a deep breath as another patrol of the traitors made their way through a corridor. "CENTCOM is wiped out. Twilight survives."

With that, she cut the transmission and darted down a side-corridor, crouched low to the ground. No armor, no support, just her. The soldier in her cringed at the thought, but the Mandalorian in her grinned. This would be a hunt to remember.


I'm just F'n with you!
Blood would be let upon the soil of Lothal.
The sky would be filled with the scream of TIE's.
Cries of fear and shock, an orchestra of annihilation.
This was the symphony of their arrival.
This - the beginning of the end.
...and he had waited far too long to leave the endeavor to those who claimed allegiance.
This was his fight, and he would be there to end it.
Turbolaser fire had erupted from the main batteries of the FIV Concordia only seconds before the shuttles had been launched free of her hangars, the heavy barrage from space meant little more than to cover the contingent of Upsilon-class Command Shuttles now screaming towards the surface. Each one painted midnight black, the First Order maw painted in crimson splashed across their hulls. Unlike the rest of the landing force, these vessels spoke of horrors untold, shadows against the backdrop of space - an uneasy aura projecting clearly from the group as they descended towards the shield.

"Captain - Energy regulation in full effect. We expect only 1% chance of the lasers reaching the ground."
With a a curt nod, the Captain dismissed the young officer. He had heard what he'd needed to hear. Their intent, while definitively aggressive in nature, was not to murder the very residents of the planet they wished to pry from their enemies but remove the ever cancerous Jedi. To eradicate the vermin from every nook and cranny they would seek refuge, the... Well, the Captain admitted he hadn't really known if that was the Supreme Leader's goal but his instructions had been explicit. Civilian casualties were to be kept to a minimum. It seemed to be one of the major differences between Sieger's empire and that of the Sith - Imperial might was wielded with a modicum of control. Or at least that's how he saw it.

"Maintain present firing pattern."
He would see to it that the shuttles reached their destination whole. He knew the cost of failure.
Violently the deck beneath his feet rattled as they rapidly approached the outermost edge of the planetary shield - soon enough it was likely they would be beyond it. *If they do what is required.* thought the Supreme Leader to himself. Time and time again their forces has somehow managed to come up short even after victory. A surge across Alliance space had seen them come this close to breaking off the southernmost sectors under their 'control'. Through shrew tactics and a conniving will, the Galactic Alliance had still managed to smuggle supplies and weapons into the southern worlds, most notably here at Lothal. That's where this had all begun hadn't it? The world held tightly in the grasp of the Jedi, their temples defiling the ground with their shadows upon each rise and fall of the sun. So had begun the campaign to strangle it, cut it from supply so as to weaken it, ripen it for the picking. Unfortunately that plan had since failed.

It was this failure which had brought Sieger himself to the world of Lothal. His purpose to finish what he should have done the first time - taken it by force. As if the hounds of the underworld were spurring them forward, the pilots unerringly dove towards their target - towards Sieger's target. Even now the man stood there, eyes closed as he issued forth silent commands and not only gave instruction but compelled them to be carried out. Each pilot felt the touch of the Supreme Leader, each felt the vehement grip he controlled over their mind and body - some might even later say they felt him in their very soul. Anger. Frustration. Hatred. All the most primal of emotions washed over them all, even his Knights of Ren whom surrounded him and occupied the other shuttles. Each would feel his call to arms, his unsubtle stoking of the coals nestled deep within each of them. Now was the time for hate, now was the time to call upon the rage so carefully held in check, now was the time to show the Jedi the power of the Dark Side and to take retribution upon a foe who had underestimated not only his knights but Sieger himself.

They would kneel, or they would perish.

[member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="Varas Ren"]
[member="Madelyn Lowe"] | [member="Varex"] | [member="Taeli Raaf"]

[member="Tiland Kortun"] | [member="Iturizu Yuvie"]
She's a total blam-blam
Reports coming all around the SIS and GA Intel was showing that the Alliance was… broken? She didn’t know. It was chaotic and reports coming from one commanding officer or another were different. People were fine? Or were there people betraying the great Alliance? One thing that Peyton was seeing was the latter, for certain. It meant that this disease went deeper into the Alliance than she suspected. Than anyone could have.

How deep was this going? Surely the Triumvirate was safe? The Supreme Commander? Chief of State? Grand Marshal? It didn’t matter then, what mattered now was the fact that she was on Lothal, there was an active call for assembly, and the fething First Order had shown up with a vengeance. She was fairly certain they were remaining behind their own borders.

She heard the call across open comms, Twilight survives. She nodded. Making her way through the installation. “Sunfell, Steele. Alliance Intel is compromised. Took a big hit here, more than half turncoat. Too many causalities of the loyalists. Working on evac from…” Static.

She turned and fired her rifle into the oncomers. Traitors, she can feel it. They were out, hunting through the corridors. Tucking into a small set of barracks, she held up one finger. There were civilians, contractors. Scared. She grabbed a thermal detonator off her belt and rolled it down the hall. Slamming the control for the door, she shut it as it exploded.

“You all ok? I’m with the Alliance. We’ll get out of here. But I need you to cooperate. Rifles in the room across the hall. We’re going to get them, and get out of here, yeah?” She nodded as she activated her commlink again.

“Steele. Working on evac from barracks, civilians inside. Sunfell, Khalua. Orders? Pick up zone?”

[member="Lyra Sunfell"]
Hope is Kindled
Location: Jedi Temple
Allies: GA Personnel/Jedi Knights
Enemies: [member="Sieger Ren"]

It wasn't long after that the alarms were blaring and everyone was falling into position. The Jedi Master was in the council chambers when the first alarm sounded and soon after the chaos began to ensue outside. Kahne had been whisked away several times before as he felt himself unsure of where he should have rested his feet on, while for a time it was on Monastery, it wasn't to long that Bethany Kismet had disappeared and then he had lost focus again. It wasn't until later that he found that his wife was with child or should he say twins that he began to rediscover himself. The Galactic Alliance had been a beacon of hope and prosperity in the galaxy for a long time. Fighting the sith and first order where it would go. And as the Jedi Master found himself on the brink and he himself always guided by hope. He would return and fight for those that he pledge himself too many years ago.

Shields were at an all time low as he took the elevator down to the ground floor. Several Jedi had passed as they made their way to their own positions, while Kahne would make a sweep of the Jedi Temple quickly enough to make sure there were no unexpected surprises before he would head towards the front entrance. The Jedi Master was aware that several Jedi were already at the front and it would give him the time necessary to make the sweep beforehand. His primary worry being the archives, as he hoped anything of importance and the like was being evacuated before the Temple was under full siege.

Hope was kindled.


Location: Lothal City
Allies: FO
Enemies: GA and allies
Objective: Kill. Kill as many as you can.

Wenwynig was not usually in large battles. His skills were aimed more for single combat, however, the fall of the Galactic Alliance called to him. Helping the shadows destroy the light, it was something his species had being doing for centuries. It was what he had returned to take part in. This war would help feed the bloodlust within. His body shifted into an 8'3 giant being, razor sharp claws the length of daggers and large sharp teeth. He was not just a monster. He was the thing of nightmares. Wenwynig could see First Order soldiers uneasy at his presence. This didn't faze him, he smirked as his eyes focused on the Alliance soldiers in cover. Jutting his head forward, Wenwynig roared in hunger. This was the first time in centuries he would be taking part in a fight of this magnitude.

Leaping forward on all fours, Wenwynig darted around to avoid the volleying of blaster bolts. Several came sizzling past his body. Which one causing him to hiss in anger. Soon however, he pounced on his first victim. Ripping the throat, he laughed maniacally, glaring at his next victim and viciously slicing them apart. Screams followed in his wake as Wenwynig begun his attack on soldiers and citizens alike in the city of Lothal.
A New Beginning
Aboard the FIV Archon,
Marauder-Class Medium Cruiser,
Orbiting Lothal.

The rumbling in the deck stopped, and a few of the trembling troops aboard the cramped craft raised their heads. Those who were yet to don their faceless helmets revealed their true colours. Their trepidation was displayed in the cold sweat on the brow, the barest quiver of the stiff lip, the unhealthy pallor of the skin, and the ripples on gooseflesh across their arms. These were the spineless worms of the Auxiliary, the finest criminals, bums, and crippled conscripts the First Order had to offer. Each wore a suit of scuffed armour, either a size too large or too small, many of the ill-fitting pieces held together with nothing but quick sewing jobs and tape.

Group Captain Ilya Cardonne ignored them, ignored the way their eyes would lock on to her, trying desperately to find some sort of anchor of security from their commander. All they found were sickening waves of fear, and there was no safe harbour. It was a terror so intense and insidious it wormed its way into your very soul. It masqueraded as your own psyche, joining the stream of consciousness and spreading its rootlets into your brain. Soon it would overtake you, into its terrible grip, and every moment would be fill with the agonising awareness of your own mortality. That was Ilya's power. Her terrible power. And she let it flow through the soldiers, unabated. With gritted teeth they would bear it, and it would change them, and then they would intensify it, channel it. Just as she herself had learned to do.

Her vision blurred, snapping between monochrome dullness and kaleidoscopic colour. She gazed with fascination at her arm as large flakes of porcelain skin began to peel away, revealing angry, pulsing embers below, embers that sparked and grew into flames. Flames that grew and grew until they enveloped her and everyone else, engulfing them all rising brighter and brighter, hotter and hotter until-


She blinked, and brushed a lock of dark hair from her eyes. She was back in reality, the ever-weakening tether that kept her secured in this world had brought her back again. As the interior of the ship came back into focus, she felt it shift and begin to rise. Dimly, she was aware of the crackle in her commlink. They were heading out.

Without fanfare, Ilya rose to her feet. The troops, each one casting a nervous glance to their neighbour, followed her lead. They stood, 20 of the Order's sickliest, least wanted soldiers. But they had potential. They were weak-willed, and the weak-willed could be driven to savagery with careful guidance. The Alliance and its paltry soldiers would come to fear this group of misfits, of unwanted souls. Under her hand they would unleash the terror that she'd sown in their hearts in the months prior. And at the end of it all, when the temple was but rubble and its inhabitants but ashes, they would gaze upon her with awe.

The great doors of the hangar slid open, to reveal the depths of space. Ilya watched it from a small datapad that linked to a camera feed. After all, the assault lander had no windows. Around their cruiser, the First Order fleet continued to fire, but their ships rose quietly, and departed the hangar to enter a screaming dive towards the battered shield gate, which still held on, beaten to an inch of its life. She imagined the generators, spinning hopelessly, the power output needed to maintain the shield generating temperatures high enough to melt durasteel. She imagined the engineers, staring hopelessly, looking on with a dawning realisation that this was it. Above the planet, while the destroyers continued their bombardment, tens of vessels like the Archon ceased fire, their guns falling silent to unleash a torrent of transports and gunships.

Below, the shield flickered, gave one more pulse of protest, one more moment of resistance, its surface glowing a brilliant blue where the thousands of impacts dotted its vast area. On the surface, the generators detonated, disintegrated, or simply gave up. Silent, swift vengeful, the attack craft plunged down, down towards lothal.

The shield flickered, protested

For a moment it seemed like it may even hold.

But then, it failed, and the atmosphere of Lothal lay bare before them.

Lyra Sunfell

[member="Peyton Steele"] [member="Sol Stazi"]

Lyra paused as a transmission flickered through the comms. It was disrupted by static, by interference, and crowded lines. There was too much chatter, but she sifted out the information.

"Steele, this is Sunfell. Get the ones you can to the Firebird. Hangar Aurek-seven. Location secured by Twilight."

The woman paused for a moment and then darted out the door into the city street. Explosions rippled through the atmosphere above them until with a flicker, the planetary shields vanished. Her shoulders slumped, but she squared them and strode forward.

"Get to safety!" She called to a cluster of civilians huddled next to a speeder. "Stay below ground." She waved them inside and turned to look behind her. Blaster fire echoed through the city. Half a squad of Alliance marines were pinned down next a corner across the street, all caught off-guard and unarmored, engaging armored Alliance forces. Those would be the traitors. They had all been prepared for this wave.

Lyra ducked behind a corner and opened fire, catching the traitors off-guard, allowing the marines to toss an explosive. As it detonated, dust and fragments filled the air. A chunk of duracrete cut her cheek open, but she ignored it.

"Major!" One of them called, moving up to secure the area behind her. "Sitrep?"

"We're karked," Lyra replied, stepping carefully around the corner. "We need to abandon the planet. Grab what we can. Grab who we can trust. Ditch the system."

"Understood." The reply came terse, but clear. They knew what was going on.

"Steele, we're enroute to the hangar. Bringing whomever we can find. Same to you."
The Jedi Iroh
[member="Kahne Porte"] [member="Iturizu Yuvie"]
[member="Sieger Ren"] [member="Ilya Cardonne"] [member="Varas Ren"] [member="Kyrel Ren"]
"Master Porte," Tiland called in greeting along with a nod of his head. "I shall hold the entrance for as long as possible. Fear not, I will not allow any to slip past." He rested his hands on top of the staff as he stood there, watching out to the far side. The shields had finally fallen. All they could do now was to wait for the assault.

A powerful dark presence hungered far above them. It did more than that. It pushed them on and fueled the Darkness. Tiland frowned. That was to be his true foe. Not those wielding physical weapons, but weapons of the mind and of the spirit. Those were the greatest dangers. For guns and sabers could only kill the body, but these weapons of despair and darkness could suffocate the flame of hope.

That was their greatest defense against the Darkness. Hope that would not be extinguished. Hope that would not waver. Hope that would never surrender or compromise. It would drive them on further and further.

Hope was what they all would need to see in this moment. Tiland drove his staff into the soil beneath his feet and let his mind reach into the world around him. Tiland greeted the grass at his feet, the insects in the soil, and the microbes. They too were alive and were bound through the Force. He greeted the birds that hid in their roosts. He greeted the small mammals that burrowed to escape the impending storm.

As he did so, he spread himself further and further within the Force. It was calming to be so deep in the midst of the Force. Tranquil, one could even say. Then with a deep breath inward, he pulled it all in, so that it appeared like a great blazing inferno of the Light suddenly swelled up through the atmosphere and into the fleet above them. It sang with hope, sang with joy, and most importantly, sang with defiant resilience to all who had the sense to feel it.

Samka Derith

Decitus Ren
The shields of the defender succumbed beneath the bombardment.​
The roars of the TIEs soon followed.​
They descended in huge numbers.​
Fighters cleared the skies while bombers targeted what they could on the ground.​
Military bases.​
Air bases.​
All would be targeted in intense bombing runs.​
From the FIV Invictus, a pod was jettisoned.​
She was inside of it.​
Location: Open clearing - a few clicks from the Lothal Jedi Temple
Allies: [member="Sieger Ren"], [member="Kyrel Ren"], [member="Varas Ren"], [member="Ilya Cardonne"], [member="Felix"]
Enemies: [member="Tiland Kortun"], [member="Kahne Porte"]

She had been expecting to emerge into a fight.

Instead, Samka Derith had found corpses and 'friendly' faces.

"You've worked faster than I expected," she oft-handily told the Jedi traitors.

A middle aged man clad in Jedi robes bowed his head, a wicked grin resting on rather plump features. "The knife in the back makes quicker work than in the front."

"I know, it's my speciality. Or was until war forced me to the front lines," Samka replied, her voice now distorted as her young face hid behind battle armour. She didn't trust their allies of the day. Samka wasn't totally certain if they were Sith, cultists or something else entirely but they had been experts at hiding their true nature for years - it wasn't inconceivable that they sought to play the First Order in the same sense they had played the Galactic Alliance.

Samka inspected the body of a young Twi'lek man, turning his limp head with her boot. "Hm, a clean kill. Good." It was a compliment but a small part of her wished it had been messier, her sadistic pleasure at torture clashing with her pragmatic wants of an efficient job.

"The Jedi are gathering to defend the temple," her ally said in a hushed tone, "We must move quickly before they reinforce."

"They had to pick somewhere to serve as their graveyard, I can't say I'm surprised at their choice," the Ren sighed, they couldn't simply blow it up, the secrets inside were far too valuable. "Landing zone is clear," she signalled through her coms to the other Ren. "We'll gather here and commence the assault."

Luther Lewis

Ex-Solider | Ex-Spy | Doctor
Location: Apartment block near Alliance Command.
Allies: [member="Madelyn Lowe"], [member="Ilya Cardonne"], @Wenwynig.
Enemies: [member="Peyton Steele"], [member="Lyra Sunfell"], [member="Sol Stazi"].
Equipment: DH-17 Blaster pistol, Civilian disguise.
Luther wept, though whether it was for his soul, his sanity or the dead; he could not tell. "I'm sorry" he whispered. "You were like a brother to me". The corpse gave no response. Luther felt his sins weigh heavy on his shoulders.

- - - - -​
72 hours earlier

"You were born in Galactic Alliance territory, is that correct Luther?" The FOSB agent looked calmly at him, cold calculation written over his face. "Yes" Luther responded. "I was born on Belsavis". The agent shuffled through some papers. "Do you know a Raymond Cooke?" Luther swallowed, his throat dry. "Yes, we were childhood friends". "Have you been contact with him?" "No".

This was all a test, they knew all this information, they had his call history. Nothing was private. A second agent peered behind gold-rimmed spectacles. "From today, SGT Luther Ando does not exist" the second started. "After you fled Belsavis you served along the Alliance-First Order front, attacking FO installations as part of SIS-funded deniable operations". The agent passed over a faux Alliance ID, all the corresponding details already filled out.

"Commander Raymond Cooke is in charge of the security detail for General Anders”. The first agent spoke again. "With him out of the picture, access to the general becomes much easier". Luther stomach sank. "What do I need to do?" he asked, but he already knew the answer.

"Kill Raymond Cooke".

- - - - -
Ten minutes before General Ander's death.

He shuddered and moved away from Raymond's body. It had been easy, too easy, to kill his long-lost friend. Luther had shown up at the man's door the night before and it wasn't hard to convince him to catch up over drinks. Luther had led the drunk him back to a non-descript apartment and ensured the man wouldn't rise for work the next day.

He shrugged out of the Alliance fatigues but kept the passes he liberated from Raymond. He opted for a civilian disguise, lest his own side gun him down. Large explosions sounded in the distance; signaling the start of the First Order's bombardment. Soon the shield would collapse, and all hell would break loose. All he had for supplies was Raymond's blaster pistol and a protective vest that he wore underneath a jacket.

The death still shook him, but he forced himself to focus on the present. He was deep behind enemy lines. He needed to either make it back to the FO forces or escape another way. "No sense staying here" he whispered. He left the apartment, not looking back, and took to the streets.

Iturizu Yuvie

Be carfule what you wish for
Allies: [member="Kahne Porte"] [member="Tiland Kortun"]
Enemies at some point: [member="Sieger Ren"] [member="Ilya Cardonne"] [member="Varas Ren"] [member="Kyrel Ren"]
Location: Jedi Temple

Yuvie could feel the ever approaching darkness each second he stood on the Jedi temple steps, arms cross as the Mirialan stared towards the sky, watching as a omonsis black shadows came closer, but not without opposition. Though the force she could sense Kahne walking down the steps, projecting a sense of calmness through the immediate area. "So.... what do you think will happen"? Yuvie asked in an almost emotionless voice to the Jedi master, taking position just behind him.

Though never meeting the person before today it was plain to see the man was a veteran of the wars regardless if they had seem much combat they would have known the outcome of past conflicts, known how the First Order fought and what they did to planets that fell under their rule. It may have been a bad time to ask but before the actual invasion started everyone was busy trying to make sense of what was happening in the core world, idle chit chat was not exactly high on the priority list.
She's a total blam-blam
Chatter today was not what she was hoping for. There was not any one overwhelming signal for good news. She had to listen and hope. Lucky for her, there were a number of Alliance loyalists. And that was what she was hoping to get to. With the people around her, she wasn’t sure that they were all loyal, but there was an overwhelming bit of fear in them. And she wasn’t a Jedi, not by a long shot, but she could sense that. Was one of the reasons she was hired by the Alliance Intelligence anyway, sensing what others were thinking, while carrying out her jobs.

She checked her pistol as she waited for anyone to reach back out to her. And that was when the call came from Sunfell. Good. Someone was alive, and someone was out there. But how many of them were lying? She had worked with Sunfell, she knew the company. This whole day was not going to go well.

“That’s a copy on the hangar, Sunfell. Will report if it changes.” She sent out to the command.

“Alright everyone, we’re going to head into the hall, then we’re making a beeline for the hangar. Stay with me, ok?” She smiled as she picked up a deployable bubble-shield. She may need that. Getting up, she moved into the hallway, pointing her sidearm down the hall as her group began to follow. Her carbine was hanging over her shoulder. Once she got to the streets she’d be using that. But it appeared now?

Now was a time to rest, and focus herself. Stepping slowly, she lead her people to the door. “Anyone with a gun, I want you on the perimeter of the group. If I say scatter, you run. We have a ship, we just need to get to it.”


[member="Lyra Sunfell"]
[member="Luther Ando"]
A New Beginning
Lothal surface,
Dismounting Atmospheric Lander,
The Jedi Temple.
Allies: [member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Sieger Ren"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"]
Enemies: [member="Iturizu Yuvie"] | [member="Kahne Porte"] | [member="Tiland Kortun"]

Auxiliary Soldier Jan Torygg had lived a hard life. Born and raised on the industrial system of Neo-Polis, the young Rodian had grown up under the shadow of the system's oppressive policies towards non-humans, and the leather strap that hung on a loop by his father's bedpost. Staying away from home as long as possible, he'd mixed with the wrong crowds: Urchins, Spice dealers, even smugglers. By his teens he understood the way the world worked for someone like him; There were no jobs for his kind, none that involved anything more than menial labour that nobody else could bring themselves to commit to.

"Like I'm gonna spend my life sweeping the floor of some karking factory." He'd muttered bitterly, all those years ago. That had been on his way to his first job. Not a real job of course. A criminal gig. It had gone well, about as good as those things could possibly go. He'd eaten well for the first time in years, and he was able to get away from his awful childhood home. Things had been good for a while. He was swept deeper and deeper into the criminal life, and eventually, he began to feel untouchable. That all changed when, on a sun-kissed spring morning, emerging with the spoils from yet another robbery in what was becoming a serial mugging spree, he was caught. Instead of being sent to serve time in jail, he was sent to the Auxiliary. Back then, that had seemed like a sweet deal.

It turned out the Auxiliary was as cruel as it was underfunded. He was beaten, provided with ill-fitting equipment and an obsolete weapon. Thrown in a squad of spice addicts and murderers. He was broken down, crushed until he was but an obedient slave. Then she came, a monster disguised in a slender, shapely form, and alabaster skin. Her torment seemed never-ending, and one by one he saw the others breaking down, each losing their humanity to the creature that masqueraded as human and played with their minds like a bored child, poking and prodding as she pleased.

In his brief moments free from her -its?- influence, Jan would think of home, of the particular way the sunshine wove its way through the tangled skyline of the great metropolis, or the patterns the moonlight made on the pavement by his window. Mostly, he thought about the spot on the rooftop downtown where he'd sit and watch the world go by.

This is what had been going through Jan's head when he rushed down the boarding ramp, and when the blaster bolt, fired by an Alliance sharpshooter, struck him in the chest.


Ilya's lander, and others just like it, had made the journey down without difficulty, and even as the landing pads contacted the ground and the craft began to settle the large front doors sprung open and suddenly the First Order Auxiliary was charging headlong into the enemy. Halfway down the ramp, one of the goons, took a shot. His armour was enough to soften the impact of the bolt, but not enough to save himself. He crumpled and fell hard, splaying himself across the ramp, dead as you please.

The others of the remaining crew of 19 did not see Jan simply crumple and die, no, that would not do. These soldiers needed adrenaline, they needed pure terror to motivate them to fight for their lives. Thanks to Ilya's careful influence, Jan didn't simply die, he exploded, his visceral chunks spraying across the front of the lander, and the troops inside. That was enough, with a strangled cry, the soldiers raised their weapons, and streamed out of the transport, each madly firing their weapon towards the dug-in defenders, arranged around the tall entrance to the temple that was the group's target.

Ah yes, the defenders. Ilya breathed deeply as she strode down the ramp, stepping over the fallen corpse of the soldier. She paused, taking in the intensity of the scene. She allowed the fear, anger, and desperation to pool inside her, filling the reserves of insidious power that coursed through her very being. She twitched as it was unleashed, without her even meaning to. Her skin bubbled, flowing away and dripping to the ground to reveal a charred skeleton. Ilya concentrated, and her skin reformed, perfect and pale.

She manipulated the flow, channeling the terror, coalescing it into desire to dominate, to destroy, to raze this place to the ground. Waves of fear and revulsion pulsed from her, the ripples spreading out to the defenders, who looked on in horror to see the creatures of their nightmares emerging from the landers, vile ooze dripping from their slavering jaws. At their rear, came a towering woman, made of rippling shadows, and with a pair of burning coals for eyes.

With a laugh, Ilya ignited her saber.