Invasion Fade To Black | GE Invasion of GA Held Arkania, Champala, & Ord Lithone

[Lander Stalwart]

Fondor
Tags: Feridade Parthi , Alexandra Feanor , Arsenio Tagge , Cressida Tolliver , Janus Vipsanius , Redak Boyd , Selrik Lorcas

Lander's Blaster Pistol, Lander's Prosthetic Arm
​

The Imperial Minister emerged next, draped in layered dark and purple robes, the fabrics of a High Coruscanti. With silken weaves from the Senate Ward, custom cut to drape in flowing precision over his broad shoulders, and a high collar framed for his angular face, he carried a faint smirk that had been worn for generations by those who had never stood in a ration line. Every step had a deliberate sway, a quiet proclamation that he was Chief Minister of the Empire, A Servant of the Sith’ari, and a man entirely comfortable walking into a chamber full of enemies.

His uniform, crisp and pressed, reflected his attitude towards the coming days: efficient, clean and without compromise. The silver gleam of its fastenings caught the low light, a quiet declaration of discipline. They had their orders and the Emperor’s vision, the Vizier’s will, would be performed without deviation. They were entering into the heart of the Alliance and the belly of the beast, where every word and gesture might decide the fate of worlds.

"So... this is what we are to decide today then, is it..."

Lander sat in his pod, observing the arrival of the Empire's lapdogs. It was going to be a cold day in hell before he capitulated, that was for certain. He was comfortable that his peers would do the same. Maybe he didn't see eye to eye with them all, but to be disgraced by an aggressor? That was an evil none would tolerate.

"Senator..."

"No. I will not be leaving," Lander was quick to cut off. "Death has come to Fondor. I intend to look it in the eyes. Inform my aids they are permitted to leave. If they're lying about negotiation, I intend to make it a cold day in hell for the both of us."

"Understood... sir."

Nobody seemed to speak at the arrival of imperial diplomats. They all seemed to mutter amongst themselves. With a sigh, the senator of Sacorria activated his pod and set out towards the open floor of the senate chamber.

"You are here. We observe you," Lander stated towards the imperials. "Be direct, waste no time with drabble. We are long past the observance of introductions."

Lander stood tall, his voice projected clear and with a military firmness. He had been reserved in all other instances before in the senate, but this was a matter for which he would not be gentle. No, this was war. Lander Stalwart knew war. He was going to listen, look these imperials dead in the eye...

And tell them to feth themselves.

 

[Tyro Lok]

Tyro Lok
The Dark Side Elite
Lord Creuat | Sahar | Talon Draven | Meliant | Ibaris Varanin | Prowler II | Wymar | Khronas | Cesare Demici | Da'Razel | Tayiji | Kaleb Sunwalker

​

The dropship rattled as it cut through Arkania's frigid winds, its hull trembling under the roar of distant armored deployments. Tyro Lok stood near Talon Draven , one gauntleted hand gripping the overhead rail, the other flexing. Fingers stretched wide, then clenched into a tight fist. knuckles cracking like distant blaster fire. Through the visor of his mask, his gaze lingered on the snowy mountains ahead, the temple loomed there, carved into the mountainside like a scar from another age. Even through the hum of the repulsorlifts and the muffled chatter of the crew, he could feel the oppressive thrum in the Force.

The Jedi were here, on planet. Close. Close enough for their light to sting at the edges of his mind.

Ancient Sith artifacts lay within those ruins before him. Relics of power that could tilt the galaxy's fate, relics that the Jedi would never allow out into the galaxy if they could stop it.

Tyro's jaw tightened. He would see them in the Emperor's hands, or ground to dust before the Jedi could claim them.

The dropship banked, revealing the battlefield below. AT-ATs were already making landfall, their heavy footfalls shaking the snow like avalanches. A thin smirk crept under Tyro's mask. He glanced to Talon, eyes hard, then to the pilot.

"Bring us in."

The ship touched down with a metallic thud. Steam hissed from the landing struts as the side ramp groaned open. Tyro stepped into the freezing air with the calm swagger of a predator, the shadow of the temple rising ahead.

Lifting his comm, his voice came low and deliberate.

"Lord Creuat. I've made landfall."

The hunt had begun.

 

[Prowler II]

​

Caught within the flurry of snow and raging winds, a lone escape pod descended from an imperial battlecruiser hovering over Arkania. A deathly cold gripped the tiny ship. It plummeted like a meteor toward the snow-covered world, a beacon of ethereal light to those sensitive to the Force's lingering touch. Loosed projectiles missed the pod by a hairsbreadth. Black smoke cut a path behind it through the sky, leading directly to a flat field of packed snow not far from where the battle lines would soon be drawn.

The escape pod carved a long groove through the snow-covered earth by the time it slid to a rolling stop. The door blew off its hinges a split-second later and crashed against the exterior with a resounding thud. A humanoid silhouette sailed out, landing a dozen paces away from the smoking transport. The figure broke into a sprint and hurriedly put space between himself and the pod up until the thing exploded. Shrapnel erupted in every direction, littering the field with half-melted durasteel plates. Smoke rose steadily into the sky, a perfect signal to forces on both sides of the soon-to-be battlefield.

A well timed dive saw Kyric Karis narrowly avoid a thick piece of shrapnel on course with his back. He rolled over in the snow a moment later, breathing heavily in the aftermath of his flight. His time in Imperial captivity hadn't been kind to the Jedi Knight since his capture, but he didn't have time for lamentations.

PROLOGUE:

The corridors electrical systems flickered and twitched as a shadow past through its dense metallic structures. A eerie shriek of metaphysical darkness phased through and then disappeared. Somewhere else a similar occurrence took place, then another and another. A straight line across the ship, the manifestation of which was only glimpsed in between hallways.

A black and red robed elder, a spectre by all accounts, making his way back to the holding cells. Within his hands he held a obsidian dagger. An alchemical weapon with a light green edge. Devaronian blood-poison. A nasty trail that was befitted to pierce the side of all potential "unwilling" Darkside Elite candidates. In this instance the blade would be blessed apon the Son of the Sword, Kyric . To taste its exusite initiation toward the darkside of the force.

To taste power itself.

The phantom of Prowler continued onward with his boundless strides in till an alarm sounded. The elder arkanian looked around and sudden vanished through one last wall and hall way. Arriving into a holding cell, an empty holding cell at that and a slight mess of things bread crumbing to a explosive conclusion. Where is Kyric?!

" AAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHH" The elder roared. A shout that defied time and space. A wail that pierced the veil of the force!

Failure. The Master does not tolerate, Failure.

THE CURRENT:

Standing within the helm of the Dark Side Elites flagship, The Sepulchre, Prowler purred to himself in though. Pondering, calculating this new slight dilemma. Caught between the timing of two objectives. Secure the secrets hidden within the Sith temple below Arkania and capture the boy. Closing his eyes hard the elder muttered in his breath and began to pace. To seethe with raw emotion and darkside power. Then it resided and Prowlers pale eyes opened wide from glimpsing the abyss.

A strange glaze covered the windows to his dark soul. " Captain. Prepare me a shuttle, now." His voice calm, expression arrogant and psyche flooded with sudden enlightenment.

 

[Dynamis "Dynas" Ultra]

ARKANIA: OBJECTIVE 1​

---

The battlefield roared—blasterfire, shrapnel, and screaming engines ripping the air as the frontlines churned in a violent push and pull. Even with the unmatched strength of his chassis and the Force at his command, Dynas calculated that brute destruction alone would not turn the tide. His role here was larger.

The emitter at Epyon's chest ignited with a deep pulse, then unleashed—a lance of searing light, turbolaser-sized, spearing through rows of Imperial armor and infantry alike. Durasteel ran molten, armor and bodies vaporizing in its path.

"Their aim will be the shield generators," his voice rang through comms, calm amid the chaos. "Divert reinforcements there and hold the line."

He turned toward CT-312 and the soldiers nearby. "You there—with me back into the fortress. I'll serve this battle better with what comes next."

Once at the back end of the entrenchments, Epyon came to a halt, its frame growing brighter, until the cold air shimmered in an aurora of blue light. Dynas raised one arm skyward as the Force gathered—not around flesh and bone, but around crystal and steel.

To him, there was no divide between man and machine. Bone and sinew, gears and servos—they were merely different architectures for the same truth. On the atomic level, they were kin. It was this philosophy and his inorganic nature that elevated his mastery of mechu-deru further beyond.

Here, in the midst of war, he would bind the two into one—blood and oil, muscle and metal—an imprint of his will carved into the heart of the battlefield.

To his silicon mind, the act is less an effort of concentration and more a mathematical symphony — a fractal web of command packets, binary harmonics, and Force-tuned carrier waves. Mental exertion is calculated and structured — running dozens of parallel processes in deterministic cycles.

"The battlefield is a circuit. A living breathing network of harmonics. A concert of the living and machine. I am the current. Allies are to be brought into perfect sync — enemies into perfect discord. Til ALL. ARE. ONE."

HARMONIC OVERWRITE
PHASE 1: Initiation (Subtle Interference)
Neural lattice engagement: SYNCHRONIZED
Force-channel routing: STABLE
Shard core resonance: CRYSTALLINE

Dynas is channeling an OBJECTIVE-WIDE application of Mechu-Deru boosting allied machinery and attempting to disrupt enemy machinery. Effects will escalate with every post dedicated to channeling.

• ALLIES: Power output balanced for stable, efficient operation. Targeting systems gain minor accuracy improvement. Control systems respond more smoothly to operator input.
• ENEMIES: Slight targeting drift introduced. Marginal reduction in power efficiency and output. Minor delay in input response cycles.

Direct Interactions: CT-312
ALLIES: Gavin Restur | Dangal Olderem | Jacen Voidstalker | CT-312 | Solan Charr | Makko Vyres | ADM. Reshmar | Skorvek | Corazona von Ascania | Kyric | Ko Vuto
FOES: Voldran Molf | Sid Berik | Thomas Barran | Artam Macek | Tiberius Zaarin | Darth Apophion | Flannigan Tagge | Meliant | Tyro Lok
​

 

[Henna Ashina]

Hirata, Atrisia | Objective: Find The Way (Coming to an objective near you soon!)
Inosuke Ashina | Kylass Starhaven | Jannik Morlandt | Corr | Pak Jaehyun | Jin Taeyang

​

The speech stopped, and the image of Senator Parthi disappeared. A few Jedi, all those immediately available, had joined her around the table and watched the heartfelt request for aid. On a normal day, the plea would have been heard by the council and an objective passed down to their incumbents from a higher decision. This was not a normal day. Several of their order were already dispatched within Empire territory, either locked in quieter battles with the dark side or evacuating citizens overtaken by their shadow. Wise enough to know her history with the Alliance clouded her views, Henna had opened the high council meeting to those who would attend and advise. The seer trusted the opinon of Jannik, and their new comer, Kylass, and Corr could stand to learn by what was said.

"I am torn." She admitted, filling the silence left by the senator's cutout. "Senator Parthi is correct in pointing out the New Jedi Order faces a crisis in numbers. They have transformed in a way since Inosuke and I have left that we would not be able to recognize them today. However..."

Straightening, she took a deep breath to process the hard truths that came with knowledge.

"We are not so different in size, now. We, too, are stretched thin with several offensive incursions. Our best pilot has run himself ragged with constant evacuation calls to Byss."

So often, in her meager free time, Henna found herself consuming the ancient texts on Lord Hoth's recollections again. They were a guiding light in her command. An army of light, to tear through the darkness. How envious she was of the quote that stuck with her. Would that she had an army to cut her way across the core to Tython. Cooperation, here, now, could be the key to fill their void - or it would bring ruin if a strike team large enough to make a difference were decimated in an attack on the Alliance.

"Yet it feels our duty to answer their call - and make them hear ours."

Henna looked to her fellow Jedi gathered around the table for counsel.

 

[Koda Fett]

B O U N T Y - F E R I D A D E _ P A R T H I
​

In this era of conflict and strife, it has become the age of the bounty hunter.

"Threkkuss advises that Fett exercise more caution in his upcoming jobs," said the holographic image of the Gand Findsman, displayed across the console of the Spear III as it descended into the Fondor spaceport, "Fondor is the new capital, it will have more defenses than Coruscant. This one reminds Fett that the Imperials will be present in the senate, too."

He pressed a button and pulled a lever, the vertical profile of his ship began to shift as it came to a slow stop. "It's an Imperial bounty," the would-be Mandalorian reminded the Gand. Seeing the inside of the spaceport, it was a near-pristine white lined with aid on standby in the form of a crew of droids and a blue-skinned Rodian. The forged clearance codes seemed to work, evident with the absence of authorities.

"Threkkuss does not think the Empire intended for their people to be in the line of fire," stressed the Gand, adjusting his breathing apparatus from his business on Kwenn Station. His three-fingered hand palmed his large brow, leaning on the desk in the back room. The faint sound of some unruly business echoed through the line.

The call was transferred to a round, handheld device that continued to display the Gand. "If they know what's good for them, they'll stay out of my way." Fett replied with a flat, deadpan voice, grabbing his blaster carbine and beginning down the ramp, "Besides. Not your problem."

"If Fett is killed, it becomes Threkkuss' problem. Fett brings in many bounties for Threkkuss." A pause, "And relies on Fett to complete many more so that this one’s Black Sun debt can be paid."

"Your problem," answered Fett, "Not mine."

He ended the call.

Feridade Parthi

​

 

[Sharad Dhavale]

OBJECTIVE I
2nd Prefsbelt Exile Brigade
Gamma Platoon
Ravager Squadron
Opps: Gavin Restur
Allies: Thomas Barran

​

Spoiler: KIT

• Battery Pack For Volkswaffe MMG-69 (x)​
• Entrenching Tool​
• Volkswaffe 864 Model Maser Rifle (x)​
• PC-1 Auxiliary Kit- ECW Variant (x)​

PFC Sharad Dhavale hated the cold. Hated the thinness of the air and how his skin pricked and prickled against it. The standard issue greatcoat he now clung to sucked. And the air of his respirator mask, instead of insulating him from the cold only seemingly trapped the worst of the frosty conditions with his face. “Feelin’ a lil chilly there there Sharad?” Corporal Tarr smirked as he took a drag from his cigarette, “I promise, once this is all done with, I’ll get you a caf, and some curried rations.”

Sharad snorted at the promise, but winced once more cold air slipped up his nostrils. “With all due respect Corporal, after that stunt at the Sabac table,” Sharad drily reminded him, “Your pormises means jackchit.” Tarr snorted and nodded at the remark, extinguishing his cigarette.

“Fair cop to that.” The Corporal mused, unslinging his rifle and checking the slide with a ‘click’, “But you gotta admit, it was a helluva stunt.” He approached Dhavale, putting a hand on his shoulder, “I know you still love me.” He offered with a chit eating grin. Behind those red lenses Sharad couldn’t help but crack a smile. Sensing the tension relieve itself, Tarr snickered, “Now, pull that rifle up, word on the line is we’re about to move.”

Sharad nodded and moved to the battery pack he was supposed to haul. It was a dense load, but such was the life for the assistant gunner on an MMG-69. It was PFC Raiber who would have the pleasure of unleashing hell. A trudging through the snow informed Sharad of new orders. Sergeant Rickhard, attired in a field cap and tunic clambered out of the temporary command post. “Right you filthy bastards.” The sergeant curtly began, “Orders come in. We are headed over.” Rickhard looked out at his men. “Blasters ready people. We are about to move out. One twenty seconds.”

Sharad looked for Kaylah Raiber, whom he was supporting. He spotted her, finishing off a cigarette. Dhavale and Raiber had agreed before ahead to connect the pack. Lest of course one of them fell in battle. Sharad knelt down beside the hefty assault weapon, while Raiber hoisted her own gas mask to her face, “You better run quick, runt.” She snapped with a playful scowl, “I don’t wanna have to haul your haggard ass corpse across the snow.”

Sharad pouted, as he successfully connected the MMG 69 to its designated port with a successful hiss. “You don’t need to worry ‘bout me, I’ll be worried you can shoot straight this thing after a half click run.”

Raiber instinctively cuffed Sharad up the head in a playful manner, shaking his helm. “Youre such an arse, you know that right?”

“Sixty seconds!” Sharad lifted himself up from the machine gun. He helped Raiber pick it up,, and then unfurled the cable. There was a decent distance between them, maybe five meters. Not great if they got to tripping someone up, but enough that they had some spacing.

Sharad felt terror fill his veins. This was it, they were about to storm a fortified hostile position. This wasn’t the job of an average grunt. This was meant to be stormtrooper work. Or one of those buckwild crazy Mawites. Raiber turned back and gave Dhavale a reassuring nod. As if sensing his apprehension, she obliged a nod. “Remember what they say, Force is with us.” She whispered, “Whatever the fuck that means.”

Sharad snorted and grimaced once more before the order hit, “Charge!” And with that, he mounted the trench and sprinted toward what would inevitably be carnage. It was now all in the hands of the mission and nothing but the mission.

 

[Gavin Restur]

[Objective 1: Fire & Ice]
TAGS: Sharad Dhavale
​

By now, not only had the Empire's transports started to land, they already were having troops booking head-first towards the Alliance's entrenched lines. Despite the absolute freezing temperatures he was in, somehow an even colder chill managed to run itself down his spine for a moment. Watching how they moved and carried themselves, he could tell they had absolutely no intentions of taking prisoners. They were here to slaughter everyone they could with no remorse.

He was still looking through his macrobinoculars, but lowered them for a moment as blaster fire along the battlefield was kicked up to a hundred. A swift, reactionary tilt of his head to the side caused a stray bolt that was beaming right for him to fly past, as he glanced behind himself to see where it had landed. Looking back ahead afterwards, and he was pretty pissed.

"Let 'em have it!"

The troops near him had absolutely no reason to listen to anything he had to say. He had no sort of command or authority over them in the slightest. However, for one reason or another that he couldn't comprehend, they seemed to be inclined to listen to whatever advice he had. Maybe it was his experience, maybe it was his demeanor. Regardless of what it was, with a yell out and a point forwards by the man, the soldiers that were stationed at his side opened up with their weapons. Blasters and machine guns near him let loose, raining down on the advancing squads of hostile troopers.

After stuffing his macrobinoculars in his satchel, he rested his gloved hands on the edge of the trench as he watched the action unfold. Despite the fact that he was a good shot, the Imperials were still too far out for him to be confident in his usage of his pistols. And while he did have his cycler rifle resting against the wall of the trench by his side, he elected to save the sniping for a later point in the battle, for whenever the hostiles set up their own positions.

So for now, he merely watched the land in front of him turn to hell. A grimace on his face.

 

[Braze]

Tags: Koda Fett Jacen Breska Feridade Parthi


Ever since Coruscant, Braze had been keeping tabs on Koda Fett and the more recent bounties tied to his name.

He’d brought Jacen Breska along for the ride, ready to drop in and throw Koda a surprise party. After all, Koda was the one who’d hurt Zark San Tekka , and the prize money for his bounty would go a long way toward chipping away at Braze’s debt.

This was the kind of job he couldn’t afford to fail.

The others in the underworld still looked at him like a kid playing at hunter, too young, too soft, too green. Maybe they were right. He felt the weight of their doubts like stones in his pockets, but they also gave him reason to prove them wrong.
That and he had unfinished business with Koda weather the man knew it yet or not.

As the transport cut through the sky, he keyed up the comms, voice casual even if his grip on the console betrayed tension.
“So, Jacen,” he said, a wry half-smile curling at his mouth, “ever gate crash a party at blaster-point before?”​

He asked with a faint nervous laugh. Both ships were presently waiting in stealthed mode and seeing the matching transport show up was the tell Braze needed it was what they were waiting for. They just had to wait for the perfect moment to enact their plan next.

Target: Koda Fett
Bounty Link: Koda Fett Bounty
License: Braze's Bounty Hunter License

​

---

-- This post is made in accordance with the Bounty Hunter's Code. The target's toggle was active at the time of posting. This post includes a valid license and links directly to the bounty as required by board rules. --​

 

[Khronas]

VEESHAS TUWAN, ARKANIA

Dark Side Elite Armour | Cloak | Sith Sword

Dangal Olderem

A dark figure moved across the frozen wastelands of Arkania. Wrapped in a heavy cloak, the figure moved in bounding steps as they ascended the snowy mountain toward the Sith library that crowed the peak. Every few moments, the figure would pause and kneel down onto the snow, withdrawing a small device from inside their cloak and running it across the surface.

Khronas studied the kyber detector for a moment, moving it side-to-side in front of him to try and get a reading. The Imperial engineers had assured him that the sensors in the small device were powerful enough to detect the kyber buried deep within the lost Sith library of Veeshas Tuwan. As of now, they were not living up to their promises. He adjusted the controls on the scanner to no avail. He could feel a faint interference through the Force, which felt like widescale mechu-deru, which seemed to be causing the device to loss calibration.

Not that it mattered. His mission from Lord Creuat and Prowler II had been to search for any hidden passages into the Sith library, entrances lost to time that would grant the Dark Side Elite access to the repository of knowledge. If such secret tunnels existed, they had long been lost to the fierce weather and tectonic movements of Arkania.

The Siniteen stowed the useless scanner inside his cloak and looked out at the snow-covered plateau below. Imperial walkers slowly lumbered toward the Galactic Alliance trenches, supported by dismounted Snow Troopers and TIE fighter overwatch. Lances of green and red lasers lashed back and forth between the encroaching Empire and the dug-in defenders. Both sides were intent on spilling their blood on the freshly laid snow, believing their sacrifices had meaning.

Only the Dark Side Elite, the chosen few of the Sith’ari Darth Solipsis , truly had a purpose in this galaxy.

Khronas prepared to continue his ascent up the mountain, his perfect sense of time telling him that the Imperial Reclamation Service was due to land at the summit. He noticed a figure further down the mountain, and at first paid them no heed; any distraction that caused him to arrive somewhere late was completely unacceptable. Their lives were immaterial in the cosmic order.

But then he noticed it. The threads of time were drawing him toward a group of figures, whose fate was bound to that of Khronas. Were they local Arkanians with an intimate knowledge of the mountain and the hidden Sith tunnels? Or were they the spearhead of a Jedi strike team, who he could ambush and strike down before they summited the mountain?

Drawing his dark cloak around him, Khronas moved into the shadows on a nearby rockfall and waited as his targets drew closer.

 

[Jacen Breska]

BOUNTY: KODA FETT
​

WEARING:: Halcyon Armour | Contact Lenses | Wrist Mounted APG | Ancile Shield |
EQUIPMENT: MAIN WEAPONRY: VW-864 Maser Rifle | DC-902d | Sunshot Pistol | Shiva Knife |
ADDITIONAL EQUIPMENT: 3x Ion Grenades | 3x Kushute Grenades | 2x Stunner Grenade | Valiant Red Injector: x4 Spares | Taozin Amulet
LOCATION: :: ::
TAG: Braze | Feridade Parthi
Target: Koda Fett
Bounty Link: Koda Fett Bounty
License: Jacen Breska's Bounty License

It was payback time. The Kaggath was still fresh in Jacen's mind. He still flinched slightly when he saw a burst of fire. Ruined him for fancy restaurants where the chef flambéed your meal in front of you. That was Koda's fault.
And the fact Koda beat him… only to lose in the next round? That was an insult to the bracket itself. The people who beat Jacen should fight each other in the final. Anything else was a joke.


Oh, and Koda had shot him while he was on the ground. That part hurt too.


So, naturally, Koda had to pay.

Jacen was excited, almost giddy, sitting in his seat. Koda wasn't going to do the same thing again. It was different now. Jacen knew what to expect from him.
So when Braze informed him that Day 2 of his gambled servitude would be hunting Koda Fett? Jacen almost wanted to give him the day for free. Almost.

But still, he'd have to send Braze a gift basket after this, when Koda's armor hung on Jacen's mantle.
His silent smirking and fantasizing about the exact placement of his trophy was then suddenly interrupted as Braze's voice broke through the comms,

“So, Jacen,” he said, a wry half-smile curling at his mouth, “ever gate crash a party at blaster-point before?”

"No," he said, chuckling quietly, "I can't say I have. But I'm looking forward to it."
Jacen exhaled slowly, preparing himself mentally for what was to come. He felt ready and willing to take down Koda Fett, but even with his over-inflated sense of self-worth and ego he was under no delusions this would be an 'easy' fight. The end result was victory, and that was no question. But Koda'd make them work for it.

And Jacen was fine with that.

​

-- This post is made in accordance with the Bounty Hunter's Code. The target's toggle was active at the time of posting. This post includes a valid license and links directly to the bounty as required by board rules. --​

​

 

[Flannigan Tagge]

Objective I: Fire & Ice
The Imperial Curator vol. 1
Issue #2: Battle for Arkania w/ ​

Spoiler: Personal Equipment for Engagement

Service Special Small Pistol
ZV2 Compact Pistol
IG-88 Emergency Energy Shield
ZV1-3C Modular Gauntlet Vambraces

His small team of Reclamation agents fanned out to secure the site. Two agents began setting up a perimeter with portable scanners, while a third, a Twi'lek with a penchant for deciphering ancient scripts, began to photograph the carvings. Flannigan was crouched, meticulously cleaning a patch of rime from a particularly interesting carving with a small thermal brush, when a shadow fell over him.

A low, guttural hiss echoed through the cavern, and a figure emerged from behind an icy spire. It was a Rodian Jedi, its emerald skin a striking contrast to the icy surroundings. The Jedi held a shimmering green lightsaber, its hum a low warning in the silence.

Flannigan sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Honestly, one would think a Jedi would have better things to do than to guard old rocks," he muttered under his breath, then addressed the Rodian with a condescending politeness.

"My dear friend, I assure you, I'm just here for a bit of historical preservation. The Empire has a rather... robust policy on cultural reclamation. I'm merely here to ensure these ancient sites are properly cataloged." The Rodian hissed again, a sound that conveyed a deep and abiding distrust. It lunged, its lightsaber a blur of green light. Flannigan, with a yelp, stumbled backward, his finely tailored Imperial coat catching on a jagged chunk of ice.

He fell with a graceless thud, his head narrowly missing a sharp shard. He looked up from his undignified position, a mix of terror and annoyance in his eyes, just as the Rodian charged again.

Scrambling backward on his hands and knees, Flannigan's hand brushed against a small, discarded seismic sensor. In a moment of sheer, desperate panic, he grabbed the device and threw it at the Jedi's face. The Jedi, surprised by the unexpected projectile, recoiled for a split second, its lightsaber sweeping wide to bat the sensor away.

It was a momentary lapse in focus, all Flannigan needed. "Now!" he shouted to his team. The Twi'lek agent, who had been watching the scene unfold with a detached curiosity, immediately activated a series of pre-set sonic emitters they had brought for breaking up stubborn ice. A high-pitched, vibrating sound filled the cavern, an ear-splitting assault on the senses. The Rodian, its sensitive hearing overwhelmed, staggered, clutching its head.
​

 

[Runar Ævar]

Information and Tags

HPI Representative, Netherworld Crime Boss, Prince of Blood, Crime Lord of Sanctuary​

"Galactic Common" | <"High Nelvaanian"> | << comm. channel >> ​

Voice Sample​

Objective: Deal with the Galactic Alliance
Location: Senate Building, Fondor
Equipment: White Attire | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit || OPBC-01m
Tags: Janus Vipsanius | Kroeger | Redak Boyd | Feridade Parthi | Alexandra Feanor | Cressida Tolliver | Arsenio Tagge | Lander Stalwart | Selrik Lorcas | Open

They finally arrived in the chamber where part of the senators were gathered. There weren’t that many of them, so the man assumed that the full Galactic Alliance was not present. Runar adjusted his expensive attire so it sat perfectly on him. For a moment, he glanced at his companions, then at the others. He was glad the Death Troopers were here, as the man was not exactly skilled in combat. He hadn’t even brought a weapon this time; but when he did, that rapier was more a matter of noble prestige than anything he could truly wield.

It took a few moments for the Galactic Alliance to even process that the emissaries of the Galactic Empire were present. Runar was excellent at making such moments even more impactful. So for several seconds, the sangnir did not move, merely waiting to see how the Alliance representatives would react. He relished the surprise - or anything resembling it - if there were such expressions. After all, that was why he had remarked earlier that this is where the fun begins. Eventually, however, the dramatic seconds of their entrance passed, and someone had to break the silence. Runar decided that someone would be him.

"Greetings! I’ve been looking forward to this meeting! Now, let’s see why we’re here!" the man began theatrically, yet with a courteous bow toward the senators and other Alliance personnel. While he represented the Galactic Empire now, he remained unfailingly polite. "And let’s see who we are."

He stepped out from the ring of Death Troopers, making it even more obvious that he wore no Imperial uniform; nor any real uniform at all. His clothing might have looked like one, but it was civilian wear: something of very high quality and likely exorbitantly expensive. It had probably cost a small fortune. Any Force User present could tell that Runar was neither a Force User nor even Force-sensitive. His appearance suggested he was a sephi by species, though in truth, he had not been one for centuries, having long become a sangnir. Anyone trying to look into his background would find virtually nothing; Runar spent 99.99% of his time in the Netherworld and had no recorded ties to the HPI or anyone else.

"Allow me to introduce my companions. First, Janus Vipsanius , the Chief Minister of the Galactic Empire, and humble servant of the Galactic Emperor." he said, gesturing toward Janus.

He then stepped slightly to the side to present the next person.

"The talented young man Redak Boyd ; young, yet highly gifted, representing Grand Vizier Shannic Wulf here today." Runar now gestured toward Redak.

Once more, he shifted aside to present the final person in attendance.

"And next, Arminius Kroeger, an exceptional tactician and warmaster of the Galactic Empire." the man continued speaking.

After that, he faced the Galactic Alliance representatives once more and bowed slightly.

"And last but not least, yours truly—Runar Ævar, appointed diplomat. I shall let the Chief Minister explain the purpose of our visit." he explained further.

After speaking, he paused for a few moments, then clapped his hands together with a smirk toward the senators and those present.

"I’ve heard the Galactic Alliance is known for being an excellent host, many of your senators are nobles, after all. Would you be so kind and gracious as to offer us some refreshment? A fine glass of wine makes discussions of politics and diplomacy so much more pleasant." he said in a tone that was almost flattering, accompanied by a self-satisfied smile.

Runar was unaware that members of the Imperial Confederacy were also present, so he fully assumed Lorcas was merely one of the senators or an officer of the Alliance, hence why he did not greet him personally.


OOC: Voice sample in the accordion. By the way, it is Sire Denathrius from World of Warcraft.

 

[Caelan Valoren]

Fate was doing his thing with his scomp link until a sudden spark of electricity jolted him and he bounced back from the port.

“What happened?” Caelan asked.

“Bwoo-dwoop bwee-beep bwoo-dweet bwee-bwoo, bwoo-dweet beep bwoo-beep dwoop-bwee.”

“Someone else? There’s not supposed to be more than a skeleton crew here at best.”

That likely meant that the imperial forces were already present within the facility and had breached its systems. If that was the case, and they’d taken control of the systems to the point it had knocked Fate out of them, then he was probably being watched at that moment. He turned his head to look around, spotting the nearest cameras, and lifted his hand towards them, to forcibly break the internal control mechanisms and jam them upwards towards the ceiling. Them being watched wasn’t going to be allowed.

“Were you able to activate the defenses at all?”

“Bwoo-beep. Dwoop-bwee bwoo-dweet bwee-bwoo bwoo-beep bwee-bwoo. Bwoo-dweet bwee bwoo-dwoop bwee-dweet beep-bwoo.”

“Then we need to find this person and get them out of the system before we lose it to them. I’m sure there’s data here we don’t want in the hands of the wrong people.”

Just then, his comms crackled. “King Valoren, we’ve been blocked from reaching the ship. A blast door with excess heat release.”

Caelan grabbed his comlink. “Understood. Hold position and draw your firearms. This facility is being targeted by enemies of the Alliance.”

He mulled his options and then looked down at Fate. “I want you to go help the scientists get back to the ship. In the meantime, I’m going to find our unwanted guest through some unconventional means.”

“Bwoo-dweet beep.”

The droid would go on its way, and he turned into the nearest office room. Rather than making his way down the halls, where the cameras would allow her to track him even if he disabled them, he would utilize the fact that he’d disabled the one cluster to his advantage. She’d see his droid companion moving through the halls in the direction of the scientists, but she wouldn’t be able to see what Caelan himself was doing.

And what he was doing was reaching out with the Force in search of isolated individuals within the facility. Loner, preferably in a position that would allow them access to the facilities systems unabated. A little bit of projection and he could investigate each without having to actually be there, and no one would know he was there, unless they could utilize the Force themselves. First task, find the target, once found, getting to them would be something else.

---

ATTIRE: Link | WEAPON: Lightsaber | COMPANION: BD-F8 | OTHER: Sigil Bead (Necklace), Prosthetic Left Arm

TAGS: Ines Pen-Ar-Lan ​

 

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Information and Tags

Special Agent, One of the leaders of the Nite, Tribal Matriarch of the Scar Hounds Tribe ​

"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
Keilara Kala'myr | Mercy | Ziare Dyarron | Freedom​

Objective: Steal secret data
Location: The Baktoid Armor Workshops, Ord Lithone
Equipment: FS-18-UP2 Assault Rifle | 2x Sunfury Pistol | Light Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | 2x Vibrodagger | 2x Riftblades | Promise of Freedom | Ring of Wishes and Dreams || Cloaking Device | 5x ASBF Probe Droid || OPBC-01m
Allies: Zuv Ralen | Ines Pen-Ar-Lan | Open
Important: Thomas Barran (comm. channel communication)

Sometimes one has to change methods in order to achieve one’s goals. That was true in the present situation as well. Ironically, I had to join the ISB, for there was no other way to get close to Darth Solipsis . If I showed outstanding results here, then perhaps I would be fortunate enough to earn the right to meet him in person. And then… and then I could finally, at long last, kill him for the deeds he had committed against my husband, The Mongrel . I had hunted him for long enough that my vengeance might finally be fulfilled. And there was no other way.

<< All right, Tommy, I am already here on Ord Lithone, at the Baktoid Armor Workshops, as per the ISB’s orders. I am sorry I am not carrying out my usual task at your side, as I once did for Asher; but you know what I must do… and you know you cannot talk me out of it. >> I sent to Thomas Barran over the comm channel.

Thanks to my biochip, I did not even have to speak the message aloud; it was enough merely to think it, and MANIAC would send it to Tommy. Why did I say my situation was ironic? Well, here in the Galactic Empire, the current Minister of Intelligence was none other than one of the prominent members of the L'lerim family, Ellayina. Who, in addition, was also active in the Nite. And I had been one of the Nite’s inner circle leaders for many years, responsible for events and intelligence within the Netherworld. So here, in this situation, my subordinate was my superior.

At times, I played with the thought of revealing to her who I truly was and forcing her to take me to Solipsis, the Emperor. How simple it would have been; though then there would have been no thrill to the hunt. I needed something extra, if I was to take on a task such as this. The last time I had been in the field in such a fashion was perhaps on Empress Teta, during the days of the Maw. But after Asher had trained me as a tactician, I had only ever gone forward, staying out of the fighting, sending him tactical analyses from a little distance and aiding him that way. I missed those days, especially since Asher had completely left all that behind and no longer fought after his death, once he was freed. I loved the peaceful life with him in the Netherworld — but I needed action, I needed this. I could not let go…

…not until the Emperor was dead. Perhaps afterwards I might be able to; but there are wounds that never truly heal. For me, this was such a wound.

As I advanced under the welcome cover of my cloaking device into the factory, I received a message from Zuv Ralen , who was assigning the tasks. To be safe, I sent a message to every agent present here.

<< This is Mercy, I have entered the factory and am beginning the assigned task. >> I sent across the comm channel to them all.

In the days of the Maw, I had been the very best spy and agent in the entire Maw; a role I now intended to reclaim, and I would fight to achieve it. Once inside the main hall, I took a look around. In the meantime, MANIAC had downloaded the factory’s floor plans for me and marked the most important points. If all went well, no one would even notice that I had been here, working within these walls; but I would get the data.

<< Good luck, Tommy, and I hope you will have time to relay how the operations are proceeding on Arkania. I am curious, you know... as I always am. And I will take the necessary first steps on the chessboard, the end of which will, I hope, see the Emperor gutted. For Asher, and for the fallen of the Scar Hounds Tribe. >>

In any other case, I would simply have sent a telepathic message, for that was the simplest means for me; but now, being on different planets, that was difficult, for I was no Force user. But… but the first target MANIAC had designated for me was already in sight, and so I turned my steps towards it.

 

[Dangal Olderem]

TAGS: Khronas
Location: Veeshas Tuwan

The dropship's repulsores roared against the thin Arkanian air before cutting out, leaving only the whistle of the mountain winds. Snow swirled around the landing site in restless eddies, clinging to Dangal's boots as he stepped down onto the frozen crust. The ice crunched sharply under his weight, the sound oddly loud against the distant, muted thump of bombardments somewhere far to the south.

The temple Veeshas Tuwan lay somewhere high in the range ahead, hidden in the jagged teeth of the mountains. He couldn't yet see it through the heavy wall of drifting snow, but the Force seemed to tug faintly in that direction, pulling at the edges of his awareness. His mission was clear, reach it before the Imperials did.

He then proceeded to follow a path up the mountains with a platoon while the rest of the company gave efforts to set up a permitter. Dangal stood at the head of the column, boots sinking slightly into the crusted snow with each step as he pushed up the mountain. His cloak snapped violently in the gale, its edges lashing like a living thing. Then he heard it—a low, mechanical hum that did not belong to the storm. His head tilted slightly, gaze rising toward the cloud-thick sky. Through the shifting haze of snow, the black outlines of Sith dropships emerged, and then faded from his view. They were near and....close.

"Contact," came a voice over his shoulder, tense and clipped.

"I see them," Dangal replied, his voice carrying the calm weight of inevitability. The platoon tightened their formation instinctively, rifles lifting toward the sky, visors tilting to track the incoming ships. The occasional streak of turbolaser fire cracked down through the clouds, distant impacts flashing orange across the snowfields. He wasn't sure if they landed yet or was passing by which made him felt anxious.

"They're advancing faster than I'd hoped," Dangal muttered under his breath, more to himself than to his troops.

His eyes narrowed, not in fear, but in calculation. He was already running through possibilities—how long until the main assault force made planetfall, how quickly the enemy could breach the temple, how best to choke their advance without being overrun. For now, he continued pushing into the unknown.

He turned his gaze toward the rockfall ahead. A shadow moved. Brief. Intentional. Not the wind. Not the snow. A watcher.
Dangal's hand drifted to his lightsaber, fingers brushing the songsteel hilt. He did not ignite it. Not yet. The Force was not calling for violence. It was calling for clarity. He could feel the kyber now, pulsing faintly beneath the ice. But it was twisted—tainted by centuries of Sith corruption. The temple was close. So was the danger.

"Something hides well, but the Force does not lie. I know you're there." he said aloud. As he slowly stepped, eyes scanning the area. He didn't know exactly where this foe was but it was clear someone was close.

"You will know this... I will not let the Dark Side claim this mountain. Not while I still draw breath." he added as he ignited his lightsaber.

​

 

[Ines Pen-Ar-Lan]

Fade to Black

Caelan Valoren ​

The Agent had no real defence against the Jedi's use of the Force. While probing her mind or sensing her true intentions may have been difficult, detecting her life signs was well within the ability of most trained Force users. It was a clever approach too. Just as Caelan had noted, there was only a skeleton crew present at their location. Where the office space was designed to house up to a hundred workers under normal circumstances, only a fraction of them were currently on site. And the number which were alone and close to computer consoles could be counted on a single hand. Unless the Agent moved, it was only a matter of time before he found her.

The fact that the Jedi sensed something was off came as no surprise to the brunette. Concerned brows marked her features as she replayed the recording of how he had used the Force to misalign the security camera. "Unfortunate" she mused, almost sounding a little disappointed that he had removed her visuals of the room. Her voice, slightly distorted by the firefighter’s mask, carried a distinct Corellian working-class accent. This set-back would not keep her idle for long, however.

Upon seeing the droid join up with the scientists, the Agent let out a fond "Hello again" under the mask whilst completing the manoeuvre she had initiated earlier: The computer console on the other side of the door - in the already hot room - overheated. Sparks started flying and a real fire broke out. This ensured the magnetically sealed doors remained shut to isolate the fire. A localized fire alarm would blare, sending a loud sound through the affected room and its adjacent chambers. The local fire department would also be alerted.

Throwing a glance at the facility schematics, it was clear that the scientists would likely have to be rerouted through the manufacturing plant in order to get to the shuttle bay unless they opted to move to the balcony where she knew there were a few parked and privately owned speeders.

The Agent entered a command into the console. Four of the facility's cargo droids were instructed to move the scientists—whom she designated as fragile cargo—to the storage room next to manufacturing. It would not be long until heavy metallic footsteps started to echo through the corridors as the droids moved to execute their task. Although the droids would likely not be much of a challenge to a Jedi, they were designed to move immensely heavy cargo and to withstand workplace accidents which plausibly made them good candidates for moving civilians too.

On the Jedi's end, he would likely notice how the doors in and out of his room swooshed close followed by a series of metalic snaps as they were locked close. At the same time, the air vents started circulating air at a quicker pace. While the Imperial could not see what the Jedi was doing, she sure could try to monitor him indirectly. Aside from making it a little harder to get out, she could now monitor for obstructions in the air vents a little easier as well as trying to spot if doors were unlocked or destroyed.

Agent Pen-Ar-Lan looked to the download. She needed more time. If all things went according to plan, the Jedi would feel compelled to help the scientists. But then, when it came to Jedi, things rarely went according to plan.

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

JACEN

Enemies: Skye Mertaal

Jacen kept his distance from the area of the mountains that seemed to be active. He could sense users of the Force, both light and dark. It disturbed the regular flow of energy.

He swore under his breath as he touched down. He'd found a plateau, but he didn't know if it would hold. He kept the anti-grav boosters running just in case. When nothing gave, he left them on low. It would mean the ship only weighed twenty percent of its usual.

It wasn't like a thief would be out in these mountains to find it powered on.

Pulling his cloak tight around his face, Jacen marched for the entrance to the library. The wind hissed as it cut through the rocks, spitting up snow dust into his face and beard.

He had forgotten what the cold felt like.

 

[Dayna Rhyss]

Location: Bridge of the CNV Restitution
Objective: Solidify Alliance relationship
Attire: White Imperial Uniform
Tags: Selrik Lorcas | Feridade Parthi | Cressida Tolliver | Arsenio Tagge | Lander Stalwart | Alexandra Feanor | Janus Vipsanius | Kroeger | Redak Boyd | Runar Ævar

Supervisor Rhyss was both proud and annoyed at her current mission. The fact that she had been trusted to accompany the Grand Moff as a representative of COMFIC was a great honor. She would be sure to make a good impression upon him. On the other hand she was already quite involved with missions to solidify all manners of governance for the Coreward territories of the Confederation. Areas that needed to be solidified. Perhaps meeting with this Alliance and coming to a treaty against larger Galactic threats would help her existing missions, but that was not certain at this point.

At the mention that others were here to speak with the Alliance Senate, Dayna gave a bit of a sigh and looked down to the terminal she stood near. She then looked out the bridge's viewport. False Imperials. Bringers of chaos and nothing more. Dayna understood that an empire could be many things. To be Imperial was something else. These Sith in Imperial clothing seemed to only desire to cause destruction. Particularly it seemed the Galactic Alliance. The demise of the Alliance wouldn't be the worst news Dayna had ever heard, but to be replaced by the "Empire" of Sith would not be a win.

"Are these heathens capable of constructive talk?" Dayna spit out with a bit of venom. The Imperial Confederation existed to build an ordered galaxy under a single rule, these "Galactic" Imperials were making others look bad. "I will be at my most attentive. Ready to put these imposters in their place."

As expected Dayna followed at the heels of the Grand Moff, in front of their protective Sentinels. Though she was not technically military, in this setting her dress uniform would create few questions for the sidearm at her hip. There was little expectation of the Senate floor turning into a battlefield, but with these Sith present Dayna would not feel comfortable unarmed.

The walk to the Senate hall was short. That was good for efficiency and safety. Once inside the hall Dayna followed Grand Moff Lorcas to their pod. Her eyes drifted to either side. She knew it would take a good while to link a face to a COMFIC dossier. At the Grand Moff's words Dayna gave a short exhale.

"It will take much less than words to start a war with these miscreants. But I will keep things in check, wouldn't want you, the Empress or Prefect Tron to lose faith in my ability to keep a level head." With that Dayna took a seat and waited for things to get started. The opposition entered with stomps and numbers meant to be intimidating, Dayna hoped the Alliance would stand their ground effectively. And she would be ready to aid if needed.​

 

[Voldran Molf]

Information and Tag

Shadow Lord, Prince of Nightmare, Dream Lord​

"Galactic Basic" | <"Mandalorian"> | ["Úr-kittat"] | ~"Telepathic" communication ~ | << comm. channel >>​

Objective: Find the Veeshas Tuwan, Sith library-temple
Location: Ground, Arkania
Equipment: Armour | Sword || OPBC-01m
Allies: Kaleb Sunwalker | Orran | Talon Draven | Prowler II | Thomas Barran | Khronas | Cesare Demici | Flannigan Tagge | Open
Enemy: Corazona von Ascania | Closed

It seemed that Voldran’s words had been utterly pointless, for the entrance to the temple was not beneath the ice, not isolated at all; quite the opposite, in fact! The temple-library door was not even iced over; someone had cleared it and left it open. Someone, or some people, had beaten the Dark Side Elite to it. The man could not argue with the importance of the place, so it was not all that surprising that the Galactic Alliance had already opened it up and was conducting excavations there. All he knew was that in this case, the Emperor, Darth Solipsis , would not be pleased or happy.

But since the place was already open, the man did not linger long. He borrowed a flying droid from the excavation site, one capable of illuminating the way, and entered. For safety’s sake, Voldran drew his sword, for he did not know what to expect. As he stepped inside, cold and darkness greeted him. Though there was no visible ice or snow at the entrance, inside the corridor walls and floor were coated with snow and ice. Some of it was likely blown in by the wind after the door was opened; the rest, who knew how long it had been there.

As he moved deeper down the dark corridor, the crunch of ice and snow echoed beneath his footsteps, the metal of his armoured boots ringing as they struck the ground. The small flying droid hovered above his head, casting light so as not to impede his sight by flying in front of him. Thus, Voldran proceeded inward. The entire place felt desolate and cold. Dead. As if no one had been here for a very long time.

The man had received the data from the battlefield outside; he watched the news closely, for he did not want to be here if the Alliance decided to storm the temple-library with their full forces. That would have been truly unpleasant. As he progressed further inside, reaching some smaller halls and chambers that had been ransacked, the man hoped he was not alone in entering; that some of his companions had ventured in too. Meanwhile, Voldran reached out with the Force to sense who else might be inside the temple. His biochip was not yet yielding much useful information.

"Feth!" the man muttered under his breath as he halted.

As he searched the temple-library with the Force, he sensed many familiar Dark Side Elite and Imperial auras; but also Lightsider auras. That did not trouble him, for he knew how to avoid them. However, there was one aura he had sensed before. That girl - Corazona von Ascania ; though he did not know her name - from Coruscant, who had not heeded his warnings to flee when he had spared her before. He did not want to harm her now, either. He hoped he was not too late; Voldran now tried to conceal his own aura so that the girl would not detect him.

So the man trusted he had not arrived too late and that he had avoided the girl’s notice. Voldran would have been glad to carry out his task undisturbed; especially as the key to his freedom might lie here somewhere, and now the mission ordered by his mother and the Emperor was more a black ops one than a direct confrontation. Now he only had to find the main library…