Junction ESCALATION PROTOCOL: COV and MIR Junction of Champala and Zigoola Hexes

[Feydrik Munin]

"We few, we happy few, we band of brothers."

AGAINST DARKNESS




ESCALATION PROTOCOL:
COV and MIR Junction of Champala and Zigoola




SAGA OF IRON AND ASH






War drums echoed in the minds of the Mando’ade. The battles had been costly and violent, but the drums of war did not cease; they did not deafen, they did not silence.

The Iron Covenant continues along its righteous warpath against the Sith; now, no longer alone. With the intent of establishing allies against the overwhelming might of the Sith, the Mandalorians turned their heads towards the Imperials -- the Mahporeem Imperial Remnant.

An uneasy, if not callous, relationship is blossoming. Bonds will be made, and decisions will be made, all while the drums of war echo. The Mythos Fleet’s march has begun to increase its tempo.

Across countless star systems, important and not, the Mythos Fleet emerged from the furthest reaches of the abyss as if a dark shadow. Their arrival was not announced with trumpets nor fanfare, but with a deafening silence as suppressive cruisers induced complete communication blackouts.

The Mandalorian Crusade of the Core Worlds begins.

Objective 1 | Bilbringi



The Iron Covenant seeks to expand its logistical might and its ability to be reinforced across the tyrannous stars. The Mahporeem Imperials have agreed to provide material support in exchange for future support fighting the Sith and the Imperials’ enemies. The Caragachi Commonwealth, Farworlds Alliance and Hegemony of Vandemar have also pledged their cause to the fight, and their leaders join the Bilbringi Conference.


This mapping and searching is dangerous, yet vital to their campaign. Mandalorian and Imperial leaders must come together to discuss the ins and outs of their proposed war plan, and the logistical and leadership challenges they must overcome and face together.


Leaders and Commanders gather on Bilbringi in a large conference to discuss their new and fledgling alliance on the surface, the mighty shipyards looming above them…

Objective 2 | Foerost


The forlorn world of Foerest will become a tomb for many.


The Covenant and Imperials attack the shipyards to secure a beachhead on the planet below. By securing the shipyards, the combined forces of Mahporeem and the Iron Covenant plan to enact lightning-fast operations across the rest of the planet in order to dismantle the enemy’s ability to resist and escape. Yet a Sith patrol fleet -- a Star Destroyer with escort cruisers and picket craft -- is present to stem the onslaught.

Objective 3 | Pelagon


Hell is an apt word to describe the battle on the water platform of Pelagon. Upon the arrival of the combined Mandalorian-Imperial fleet in orbit, the small Sith garrison entrenched itself deep within the industrial catacombs of Pelagar, the capital platform of the water world, grinding the Imperials and Iron Covenant to a nigh-standstill after a stalemate-inducing initial assault.

As brutal night descends over Pelagar, the Imperials and Covenant must now come up with a plan to assault the Sith positions, or risk the entire operation failing. Mandalorian savagery and Imperial precision and lethality must come together, or risk the entire operation falling apart. This world may make tombs and graves of the Imperial and Covenant troops- or it may make them brothers.




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[Minni Ordo]

The crash landing left a metallic taste in Minni's mouth, but her HUD flickered back to life, revealing the wet, rust-covered gantries of the lower warehouse. Above her, starfighters tore across the sky while distant artillery rumbled through the catacombs. Somewhere in the chaos, Alor Feydrik Munin continued the Mandalorian offensive, working to surround the water platform and prevent reinforcements from the Core Worlds from arriving.

Minni hauled herself out of the water and unclipped her carbine, keeping it close as she moved in case someone was waiting to ambush her. She had been tempted to plant a seismic charge beneath the structural pylons and enjoy the satisfying crash as the deck collapsed, but the squad leader's warning about unauthorized explosives during the briefing had put an end to that idea. Unfortunately, following orders meant missing out on all the fun.

Ahead, a Sith trooper stood watching the dogfights overhead, completely unaware of her approach. Minni slipped behind him, hooked his collar, and drove her blade into the gap beneath his helmet. She lowered his body onto the metal deck without a sound before wiping her blade clean and moving on.

Further ahead, blue plasma fire suddenly lit up the darkness as a group of Imperial stormtrooper survivors scrambled behind a line of rusted crates for cover. Minni leaned casually against a crane housing and watched the bolts come through the fog. With her thumb resting against the arming switch of a thermal detonator, she decided to enjoy the spectacle for a moment before joining the fight.

 

[Shae'ri Mor]

Pelagon

Equipment • Scrapborn | Scrapfangs | Scrapveil
Sidekick (occasionally) • Clunk3r
Command • x25 Scrap Hounds | x45 ZQ Infantry Support Unit | x300 Coretroopers x1,000 Drakonis Praetorian Guard
Location • X
Interaction{s} • Jericho Dragr

Knight Mor stood within one of several NZ/IFVr-01A/B "Cohort" infantry fighting vehicles as the armored formation advanced toward the staging ground, surrounded by the mechanical silhouettes of droids, the rigid ranks of Coretroopers, and the silent ranks of clone soldiers.

Outside, the battlefield trembled beneath the thunder of NZ HT-97A "Ronhar"main battle tanks, their heavy guns methodically hammering enemy strongholds ahead of the advance. Each barrage tore into fortified positions, attempting to collapse defensive emplacements and filling the air with fire and debris. The Sith forces were being softened before the main landing force ever touched ground.

Inside the "Cohort", Shae'ri remained still, one hand resting against her weapon as she reached down with the other and patted the mechanical head of a nearby Scraphound. Through the Force, she felt the collection of beings surrounding her; not as one unified army, but as a collection of differing wills.

The droids possessed only their programmed purpose, cold and uncomplicated. The Coretroopers carried a strange mixture of nervousness and excitement, their anticipation betraying the uncertainty beneath their discipline.

The clones were different. Their minds were unnervingly quiet, shielded from intrusions, their emotions suppressed into near-nothingness, broken only by the occasional tightening of fingers around blaster rifles. They were not afraid. They were simply waiting to begin.

Shae'ri activated the "Cohort"'s comlink, opening the channel connecting the armored vehicles moving toward the docks. Her voice carried through the transport and across the formation with the blunt clarity of a battlefield order.

"Once we hit the docks, keep moving until we secure them. We need to ensure the docks are under our control before the rest of the landing parties arrive. If anyone falls, leave them and let the medical droids do their job."

She paused as another "Ronhar" barrage erupted beyond the armored column, the distant impact rolling through the hull like thunder. Her hand remained upon the Scraphound's battered mechanical skull as she looked toward the approaching staging ground.

"Good luck. See you on the docks."

The transmission ended. Around her, the soldiers prepared themselves in silence. The droids waited for their commands. The Coretroopers checked their weapons. The clones tightened their grips. And Shae'ri Mor stood among them all, watching the battlefield burn toward the inevitable moment when the doors would open and the killing would begin.​

 

[Jyote Veyr]

Location: Bridge, MIN TBD,
Laimar-class stealth carrier
Objective: 2 - Foerost
Tags: OPEN

The tactical display was getting crowded. Jyote Veyr liked it that way. Blue Imperial markers advanced across the holotable in disciplined formations, mingling uneasily with the identifiers belonging to their Covenant allies. Beyond them burned the red contacts of the Sith patrol fleet: the Star Destroyer at its heart, cruisers protecting its flanks, picket craft spread outward to give the larger ships warning against exactly what Jyote intended to send at them.

Around her, the carrier's combat information center hummed with restrained urgency. Officers called reports between stations. Sensor operators refined contacts. Somewhere beneath several decks of armor, deck crews were already clearing fighters from launch racks as quickly as the carrier could throw them into space.

Jyote sat in the middle of it all. She hated sitting. Her fingers moved over her console, dividing the Mahporeem fighter complement into groups as telemetry began feeding into her display.

"First wave, don't chase anything." A few heads turned. Jyote didn't bother looking up. "The pickets want you chasing them. They scatter, you follow, and suddenly you're far enough from our guns for their friends to murder you."

Her finger traced the Sith formation. "Make them choose instead." Squadron assignments changed across the tactical plot. "Interceptor groups Aurek and Besh, push the picket screen. Fast and loud. I want their pilots convinced you're trying to punch straight through."

She shifted another group. "Cresh and Dorn, stay behind them. You're not there to help unless Aurek and Besh actually need it. Watch what moves." That was the important part. Not the first move. The answer to it.

Jyote leaned forward as the first Mahporeem fighters streaked away from the carrier. For an instant she imagined herself among them. Hands wrapped around a flight stick. Engines vibrating through the seat. Stars turning into lines across the canopy as she rolled beneath incoming fire. Ghostfield back where she belonged. Her injured body supplied a dull reminder that imagination was easier than reality. Jyote's mouth tightened. Then she shoved the thought aside.

"Controller to all Mahporeem flights. Ghostfield has tactical." Her voice went out across the fighter net. Calm. Almost casual. "Keep your comms short. Don't tell me you're scared. I already know. Don't tell me somebody's shooting at you either. That's generally how this works."

A few nervous laughs crackled across the channel. Good. Jyote watched the Sith formation. The first Imperial contacts were nearly within engagement range. "Tell me what matters. Who moved. Where they moved. What they're protecting." She enlarged the space between one of the escort cruisers and the Star Destroyer.

The shipyards mattered. The Sith fleet didn't need to be annihilated if it could be displaced long enough for the assault forces to establish their beachhead. Fighters that became obsessed with kills would waste themselves while the larger battle continued without them. Jyote had learned long ago that surviving a dogfight and winning one weren't necessarily the same thing. Apparently that applied to fleets too.

"Aurek, ten degrees starboard. Besh, keep your present vector. Make the screen stretch." The formations separated. Jyote's eyes narrowed. "Come on..."

She watched the red contacts. Waiting. One moved. Then another. A small gap began forming behind them. There. Jyote smiled. It wasn't a particularly pleasant smile. "Cresh, Dorn. Ghostfield." Her fingers swept across the display, transmitting a new attack vector directly to their navigation systems. "Found your door."

The reserve fighters accelerated. Jyote leaned back into her chair as the tactical display erupted with fresh contacts. Maybe she wasn't in a cockpit. She could work with this. "Go make me a bigger one."

 

[Romul Saxon]

W A R M A S T E R
Bilbringi

THE GREAT UNKNOWN
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Tag: Carduul Akahl | Kjartan Hammer-Hand | Aurelian of Vandemar | Victport Graras | Open

The Bilbringi system lacked any true world; the closest approximation was the planetoid named Bilbringi VII, devoid of atmosphere, with only artificial installations on its surface and tunnels through its crust. The Bilbringi shipyards were the system's most important feature: a massive space installation that used the plethora of asteroids and raw ore to boost industrial output; the shipyards were famous for quickly dismantling old ships for parts to reuse in new ones. Many galactic governments had used the shipyards to decommission old warship classes. The Iron Covenant had commandeered the operation to decommission the enemy's ships.

Aboard the Burennaar'gam, flagship of the Mythos Fleet, a war council had convened between the powers that wished to fight against the Sith. Reports of the razing of Thyferra so soon after the destruction of Abregado-Rae had rippled through the galaxy. The Iron Covenant had been the first to take the fight to the Sith; they had not forgotten who they were, nor their enemy. And now the galaxy had begun to awaken to the monster that would sooner or later come for them all.

With the representatives of Mahporeem, Vandemar, Caragach, and the Rekav'dral council assembled, Romul called all to order. "An existential threat unites us all," he rumbled. There was no lengthy prelude; the Old Boar was not one for dithering speeches and politics. "The atrocities of Abregado-Rae and Thyferra are only the most recent examples of what will come to the entire galaxy should the Sith remain unchecked. Our invasion into the Core is only but the first step of a long, dark, uphill path towards our goal. The Sith are capable of fielding vast armies and navies. Their industrial production easily outpaces that of the High Republic, let alone any of us. And the sycophants who lead them are invested with dark powers for which we have few answers. All of these problems we must resolve should we hope to vanquish them once and for all."

 

[Siv Dragr]

G U N S L I N G E R
Pelagar, Pelagon​

Tag: Darth Avida

"Fething haran. . ." Siv muttered as he crouched low behind a large barrier that had been thrown from its original defensive position into a tilted slant, penetrating the metal ground, by an explosion hours before. Landing on Pelagon had been a nightmare; constant hours of heavy fire as Mandalorians and Imperials -- Siv didn't trust or work with Imperials -- had landed on Pelagar, the capital platform of the water world. These artificial platforms echoed with every footstep; the constant explosions, reports from blasters, and cannon fire had created an absolute cacophony. If Siv hadn't had audio protection in his helmet, his hearing would have been shot by now.

Night was falling over the water world now. The siege had devolved into a detenté, the attackers bottlenecked at their landing zones in the platform's spaceport. As the sun began to dip beyond the watery horizon, Siv watched its last rays shine dimly against the carbon-scored metal walls and floor. With nightfall came the second push, an attempt to break the Sith lines. A second push came with a mission for Siv: infiltrate the Sith defenses and sabotage them; weaken their hold so that it would break under pressure.

The cover of darkness and an attack on the center provided Siv with his opportunity. The pressure elsewhere meant it wasn't entirely difficult for one Mandalorian to slip past unnoticed, drifting through shadow. He wasn't sure exactly what he could do, only that an opportunity would present itself.

 

[Shade]

Objective III | Pelagon
Tags: @open

By the time Shade reached Pelagar's lower industrial levels, the battle above had already demonstrated the problem with trying the same thing harder.

The initial assault had gained the combined Imperial and Mandalorian forces a foothold, but not much more. The Sith had withdrawn into the industrial catacombs beneath the capital platform and turned narrow approaches, maintenance corridors, processing levels, and service passages into a defensive advantage. From what Shade had seen of the reports before going below, another direct assault would eventually break something. Whether that something would be the Sith defenses or the people attacking them seemed considerably less certain. She had only recently agreed to work for Mahporeem, but apparently that had been long enough for someone to decide that an intelligence operative and assassin might be useful when several hundred soldiers had discovered there were limits to what could be accomplished by shooting directly ahead.

Shade couldn't particularly disagree.

She moved alone through one of the lesser-used industrial passages, dark armor blending readily into the shadows between intermittent strips of failing light. Moisture gathered along pipes overhead, machinery vibrated somewhere beyond the walls, and the distant concussion of the fighting traveled strangely through the metal beneath her boots. Her long black and silver braid had been secured close enough that it wouldn't catch against exposed machinery, while crimson eyes moved constantly between the passage ahead and the intersections she passed. She wasn't trying to win Pelagon by herself, and no one sensible had asked her to. Her task was considerably narrower: get beyond the obvious approaches, learn how the Sith were sustaining their defense, and find something worth breaking. A command position, communications relay, ammunition supply, defensive control system, reinforcement route, or simply a passage the Sith believed sufficiently secure that nobody would think to use it. Any one of those might accomplish more than adding another rifle to the frontal assault.

Signs showed others had already reached the lower levels. Fresh scoring marked one junction, and farther along Shade found evidence of movement too recent to belong to the abandoned industrial infrastructure around her. She didn't immediately decide whether it belonged to Sith, Mandalorians, Imperials, or someone else entirely. Pelagar currently contained enough armed people moving independently through its depths that assumptions seemed an unnecessarily efficient way to get shot. Shade slowed near the next intersection and listened, one hand resting close to her weapon without drawing it. Somewhere farther through the catacombs, another distant burst of weapons fire echoed through the metal corridors. "I suppose asking everyone to wear convenient identification lights would have been optimistic." The quiet remark was mostly for herself, dry amusement briefly touching her expression before she continued.

The Sith had built their defense around the assumption that the attackers would come toward them. Shade had no particular objection to disappointing them. Rather than following the sounds of the nearest fighting, she turned away from them and continued deeper along the industrial route, watching for access panels, maintenance markings, security systems, recent footprints, or anything else that might reveal how the defenders moved when they weren't expecting company. Somewhere in these catacombs there would be a weakness, and she didn't need to be in charge of anyone to find it. If she crossed paths with the Mandalorians or other Mahporeem personnel working toward the same goal, she'd work with them. Until then, Shade intended to do what she'd been hired for and give the next assault something more useful than another body to throw at the Sith.

"Let's see what you thought nobody would bother looking for."