Dominion Far From Any Road | Reclamation of Concord Dawn | NIO

[IMPCOM]

TRUE GRIT
New Imperial Order | Journeyman Protectors​

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C O N C O R D _ D A W N
865 ABY
FAR FROM ANY ROAD

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The New Imperial Order's uneventful yet vindicating offensive into the Mandalore system was a success. Conquering the fortess moon of Concordia and laying waste to the remaining parasites that brought ruin to the surface of Mandalore, the New Imperial Order was on the move again in its scramble to secure the Mandalore Sector. In this aim, it could hope to cultivate the existing cultural and socio-economic framework that existed here before the reign of the Sith, in the hope that they'd contribute as members of the New Imperial Order with the promise of a return to form for these worlds, to the times before the SIth Empire.

Concord Dawn is a land in chaos, the Mild Outer Rim, with several warring factions vying for frontier control of the agrarian world, a people deep in poverty and ailing from the plagues of crime and abrasive living conditions. The Journeyman Protectors and the New Imperial Order in conjunction might be the only hope for this world retaining some level of prosperity.

Though of course, everything came with terms and conditions.

C O N C O R D _ D A W N
OBJECTIVE I | OPERATION RUSTY CAGE
OPPOSING | MONTEREY CIRCLE , SITH REMNANTS
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As some outlying areas of Concord Dawn are returned to the control of the growing Journeyman Protectors, some more heavily populated areas still fall under the control of budding Sith remnants, bandits and Mandalorian mercenaries under the hire of the enigmatic 'Monterey Circle'. In the trading hub of Harvest, in joint command between the Journeyman Protectors under the leadership of Loske Treicolt and the New Imperial Order, an urban offensive is planned to clear the city street by street and turn the tide on the fight for control of Concord Dawn.

C O N C O R D _ D A W N
OBJECTIVE II | BIG IRON
TOPIC OF DISCUSSION | JOURNEYMAN PROTECTORS
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To determine the fate of Concord Dawn with the New Imperial Order's control encroaching across the world, a delegation led by Lucien Dooku disembarks unto the surface of the Mandalorian world to meet with the impromptu leader of the Journeyman Protectors, a man who - last the New Imperial Order was aware, was a General in the Galactic Alliance Marine Corps, Maynard Treicolt . With familial ties to the New Imperial Order with the late Major General Treicolt and acts of valor through the Third Imperial Civil War, New Imperial High Command has allowed the time of day for Treicolt to stake his case for Protector governance of his homeworld.

B Y O O
OBJECTIVE IV​

Whatever gets you to post, chief.

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[Maynard Treicolt]

T H E _ W O L F
PROTECTOR OF CONCORD DAWN
ARMOR | LIGHTSABER | PISTOL
Lucien Dooku ​

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It'd been hard, difficult. Like anything else was on Concord Dawn. To fight and bleed for this land and take control from the thieves who stole it. But soon, he'd have to break bread with another force if he hoped for law and order, peace for his home. The New Imperial Order. If his cousin was able to fight for them in good conscious, he supposed he would be able to swallow pride and accept dealing with New Imperial leadership.

Outside of the town of his birth, Harlan. He awaited the landing of the New Imperial delegation. With hands crossed over his hips. donning the armor and patterned poncho overlay characteristic of his homeworld, flanked by Protectors donning parceled Beskar and armor weave, he narrowed his eyes toward the hydraulic hiss of the shuttle bay door as it croaked open with a low hiss.

 

[Waymar Dathrohan]

T K - 1 2 7
99th STORMTROOPER LEGION
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
CATHAR | BREAK ON THROUGH
Storm UCP | SRK-65 Carbine | AP-25i 'SIMP' Blaster | Grenades

My section was split along the street way, each fireteam hugging the walls of the city street before the corporal assigned to my fireteam stacked up on a doorway, carbines at the ready. There was no telling what was on the other side. Sith cultists strapped to the teeth, ready to martyrdom for their dark crusade, an innocent, fearful family in wait.

The Protector attache ran up to the door, knocking on it loudly with harsh bangs three times to get the attention of who was on the other side, yelling out in Mando'a to get them to answer. The cracks of blaster fire and explosion in the distance ever present in my senses. Eventually, my fire team leader broke that out when he shouted.

<"Bust that door!"> In regards to no response, a breaking charge was placed squarely over it, we rounded the corner with the aim of establishing the point of domination and controlling the room, as was our room clearing protocol.

 

[Noel Strasza]

O B S C E N I T Y
W A R M A C H I N E
OBJ | RUSTY CAGE

If she had ten credits for every Sith bastard she put face down in the dirt in the short time she had been here, she wouldn't be a professional soldier anymore. Maybe even less, given how many magazines she had already burned through just running them from their hidey holes and out into the open for the rest of the ragtag band she had been paired up with to gun down. There was something awfully spectacular to being a woman of steel, wasn't there? She could make things far, far more personal than her comrades could risk to.

And boy, did she have a lot of pinned rage from being cooped up the last month or so.

Her Warlord was AWOL, her military leadership was rather frantically trying to scramble to make up for it, and overall the tides of war were starting to lap at the shores of her world once more. She couldn't have hoped for better.

So long as there was Sith to keep shooting, everything would work out.

Swapping mags swiftly, the Major grunted and slammed her heel above the handle of the door they were to infiltrate, flinging it wide open and knocking back the scrambling contingents within. She moved in, obscured by the darkness until the strobing of muzzle flare painted the visceral scene brightly enough.​

 

[Waymar Dathrohan]

T K - 1 2 7
99th STORMTROOPER LEGION
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
CATHAR | BREAK ON THROUGH
Storm UCP | SRK-65 Carbine | AP-25i 'SIMP' Blaster | Grenades
Noel Strasza

Strasza took the lead with a kick to the handle. She was a cold, vicious woman with a reputation that carried in some way or form across the entirety of the New Imperial Army.

What awaited us jogged our senses and pulled us into the mode of combat. Three blasters rang out towards us and with the sharp light cutting through the darkness of the house, we had little option but to shoot in their direction. Our Storm armor collectively ate three or four shots between us but we were all still up when the blaster rounds faded, all that was left being the black scorch marks buried into the duraplast.

The corpses were indescript, insurgents, Sith...hopefully. We pulled in our Protector attached who properly ID'd them as such. That was good, didn't want a blue on blue in a chaotic environment like this.

<"We all clear?"> My Corporal piped up, after peering into the backroom, I nodded.

<"Clear!"> I barked out in reply.

We returned to the streets only to find a speeder blocking our way.

This was pretty suspicious.

 

[Don Belkora]

CONCORD_DAWN_
DON 'BANDIT' BELKORA
COMPNOR
Tags: Izoshi

If you asked Don how he saw these Monterey circle karksuckers, he'd tell ya that they were just a slightly better organised and funding cartel filled with hoo doo voodoo secret society rituals. But all jokes about caped practices aside, these fellas were dangerous and had their pockets in all manner foul things. And it didn't take an agency analysis report to tell old Don that they weren't trouble; he saw their work and the aftermath on countless worlds and frontiers. Does some rich fella get blown up after preaching Imperialism? Blame the Monterey gang, and some rebellion happens out of the flash? Blame the Monterey gang. It was convenient to blame setbacks on an invisible enemy of Imperialism, but these lots were the real deal, and as today proved, they were even in Mandalorian turf.

Befitted with a protection vest too big for the Tetan sleazeball and armed with a hand me over from the ISB armouries, the moustached COMPNOR bookkeeper and the new Chiss woman made for quite a pair. He had known about the Izoshi bird from the case files; real mean women they said, would cut your nuts off and stuff it down your throat if you crossed her type. Which Don of course wouldn't want to try and see if that were true, he already dealt enough with the HRD and she scared the hell out of him. ​

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[Lucien Dooku]

HARLAN // CONCORD DAWN
Vibes | Maynard Treicolt | Drip

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It was a bit odd, this most recent task that he'd been delegated from the upper echelons of the Order. Few of his orders interested the Warlord these days, but for once he'd seemingly take his assignment without the usual attitude filling his demeanor.

A shuttle delivered him onto the surface shortly after his flagship entered the system. Settling down outside a small town with little significance to anything at all, Lucien exited through the hissing shuttle doors with his eyes set upon his comrade and old friend, the legendary Jedi General of the Galactic Alliance.

"Long time no see, partner." He did his best to mock that wild accent the Concordians tend to have. Throwing the Jedi a two-finger salute off his brow as he walked off the ramp and approached him. He paid no mind to the Protectors flanking the Jedi, nor did he have any of his men with him as well aside from the pair of pilots chilling in their shuttle.

But no matter, it was good to see an old friend for once.

"I never expected to see you so far from the alliance-- or that beautiful wife of yours, Treicolt."​

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[Noel Strasza]

O B S C E N I T Y
W A R M A C H I N E
OBJ | RUSTY CAGE

The Warmachine grunted in response to the questions, growling with malcontent in her throat as she exited and stepped back out onto the street, catching sight of the stormies across the way doing their part to assist in the efforts to clean this trash heap up. It wasn't the work she preferred.

It wasn't the work she wanted.

But it would serve well enough to distract her from the tumult she struggled with elsewhere. "The fuck is that?" She asked in her typically uncouth fashion, jerking her helmeted head in the direction of the oddly placed speeder. The passive drone of her scanners came online, honing on the craft and its environment, seeking any and all information such a seemingly innocuous thing could hide. Crimson lenses whirred behind the glare of her visor and in an instant, something clicked. "GET BACK!" She howled as the alarms of warning screeched in her skull. Thermal sensors. Real life savers, they were.

The cyborg jerked the trooper closest to her back as she moved, throwing him behind the edge of the building they had only just cleared as an explosion rocketed the street and spewed black smoke into the skies. ​

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

T H E _ W O L F
PROTECTOR OF CONCORD DAWN
ARMOR | LIGHTSABER | PISTOL
Lucien Dooku ​

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Of course it was Lucien Dooku. There was no dispute he was the best to endear Treicolt to the New Order, he offered his hand out to clasp Lucien's in greeting before offering a friendly slap on his shoulder.

"And I never expected to see you so far from the Throne of Serenno yet here we are. Alliance relieved me of duty after their retreat from Ziost...for disobeying orders. They wanted to take another dozen or so officers into court martial but I figured I'd do them all the favor and take it all on myself. It's a rough feeling, leaving my boys like that but...its what they wanted...and it brought me home." Maynard remarked. He glanced back to the Protectors at his flank with a wave of the hand, to put them at ease. It'd been a long while since he spoke with Lucien at length but in truth, the two were kindred spirits, seperated by political bonds and responsibility more than anything.

"Only fitting they send a rogue Jedi trying to retake his homeland to talk with a rogue Jedi trying to retake his homeland." He remarked.

 

[Ves Fett]

LONE WOLF
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
VES

The Fett scions lone visage was illuminated by the eternal technogenic night of Coruscant outside the bar window. Ves wondered what the planet was like before they burned the surface some thousands of years ago and buried it in a sprawling urban jungle as far as the eye could see, leaving no trace of what the old planet formerly looked like. She supposed it was a miles better predicament than back home, which was nought but a wasteland wrought to ruin by inter-clan feuding and the various wars of the galaxies. Anyone who mourned the loss of nature was pansies in her eyes anyhow; it was a weak thing to dedicate your life to cry about to the senate. But then her entire clan had been reduced to but a handful of people who did dirty work for others, Koda Fett was off somewhere in the outer rim doing house cleaning for some warlord, Careena was doing whatever Careena does and Ves was busy doing the odd dirty job for the Imperial gang and picking fights with criminals in bars. So she couldn't really talk about being productive.​

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[Izoshi]

M A L W A R E
W I D O W M A K E R
// BLOW-IT-UP \\
Don Belkora

Suited in the armor of a now-dead Mando woman who wouldn't be needing it anymore, the Chiss scrubbed at the domed curve of the helmet with the inside of her clothed wrist, smearing the blood off its polished steel with a puckering pout on her face. "You just had to shoot her friend so close, didn't you Donny boy?" She teased, glancing up from her menial ask to smirk at the mustachioed agent. "You remember the plan don't you?" Izoshi furrowed her brow as she turned her scowl towards the damp inside of the helmet and swallowed her disgust.

She donned it, securing it beneath her chin and switching to her vocoder, altering her voice to give her otherwise husky voice the gruff edge of Mando'a's accent. "I go in, bring them out. Pop. Pop. Pop. Mm?" Each playful 'pop' was punctuated by a finger pistol aimed and flicked in his direction. "It should be simple enough. I doubt most of these bucketheads are sober anyway. Can't imagine why they'd want to be, this place is a travesty." ​

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[Hans Rennagen]

Dark as a Dungeon
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
IMPERIAL KNIGHTS
|OPEN|

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It seemed like every other mission these days was underground. Of course it was. The Sith loved to squirm their way through the cracks to hide from the light of the Iron Sun.

A small train of Journeyman Protectors, Imperial Knights, and the speeder bikes they sat upon drifted slowly along the winding forest path.

"Where is this Beskar mine, Captain?" Hans asked to the man in charge of their Journeymen guide.

"No Beskar mine's on Concord Dawn my friend. Last I checked this was a copper mine."

"I was told the Mandalorian Union were sitting on Beskar."

"They are. Crates of it. Already processed. They're just storing it here out of sight. There's been Sith around."

"And they've taken enough from the Mandalorian people as is,"

If the Journeymen were right, the last beskar of the Union was hidden here, and reports said they were still guarding it.

When they approached the mouth of the mine, the Journeyman captain order one of his men to check a nearby breaker box, only for him to confirm that the occupants of the mine had cut all power from the inside. Of course they had. The squad of Knights lit their sabers, and entered the shadows of the mine...

 

[Hakon Fett]

OBJECTIVE III //: BYOO
COMPNOR // OPEN
// TARGET >> NEW IMPERIAL DESERTER | SPECIAL AGENT BARNES //

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The sun slowly crawled beneath the chain of hills and the night breeze picked up with each ray of light disappearing.

Night would soon envelop the land leaving only the bright lights of the mansion to illuminate the near surroundings. A mansion built on lies, deception and betrayal. A mansion that would soon be abandoned before it was handed to a new owner. Most likely some high-ranked COMPNOR officer.

To Abaddon it didn’t matter. What mattered only was bringing the head of Special Agent Barnes who lavishly lived inside thanks to his betrayal. He had provided secretive intel to the now-gone Mandalorian Union and made a fortune of it.

Or rather - a debt.

A debt he would pay with his life.

Because there is only one punishment for traitors.

Death.

 

[Waymar Dathrohan]

T K - 1 2 7
99th STORMTROOPER LEGION
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
CATHAR | BREAK ON THROUGH
Storm UCP | SRK-65 Carbine | AP-25i 'SIMP' Blaster | Grenades
Noel Strasza

The explosion of the bomb buried within the speeder rocked the street. I couldn't see or register what was happening when the Storm Commando threw me around the building in its wake. It took me a few moments before I was able to clammor myself unto my feet. I offered a nod to her in thanks, the best I could manage here and now.

<"Ambush! Get to cover! Return fire!"> My corporal shouted out as the troopers in my section all spread out into pairs for cover, throwing indiscriminate fire in the direction of the enemy.

One shot landed dangerously close to me, the blaster bolt zipping past my head as I took cover behind the burnt husk of a speeder before pulling up, my thermal scope acquiring the outline of a sniper within the building across the street.

<"We got a sniper! Building Echo - five - two. Third floor!"> All the buildings in this city had been mapped out prior to our advance, to better coordinate and identify each one on the fly.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

C O N C O R D _ D A W N
OBJECTIVE I | OPERATION RUSTY CAGE
OPPOSING | MONTEREY CIRCLE , SITH REMNANTS
NO REST

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Concord Dawn’s power vacuum sucked.

They’d done enough housekeeping to smooth things over and start to collect and grow The Protectors. When they’d first arrived, there’d only been two. The Treicolts made two more. And then...like amoebic acceleration, the Protectors started to get their strength back. Strength in numbers.

But as established as it was, ephemerality threatened in the Outer Rim; surrounded by several established governments they couldn’t truly be renegades forever.

Above all, more than anything, she yearned for permanence.

“But Imperials..tsch.” Loske admitted to nobody in particular, but it was easy enough to hear. Served well that she wasn't involved in that discussion, her temper had certainly worsened after Soirenno and thus..Maynard would handle it.

Her answer came in a streak of superheated plasma that spattered at her feet, and she hop-skipped backward, rotating her saber to deflect the next pair of strikes, fatally. The riposte didn't last long, and ended with a torso snapped backward with two new smoking holes in their neck.

It worked out pretty well, as far as dynamics went –– her tell-tale golden saber was enough to scream JEDI and draw attention away from some of the other activity happening through the buildings where the partnership between Imperial wardogs and Protectors was organized. Any that weren't sticking to their hidden spaces could be drawn out this way, and the Imperials would figure out the...other half.

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ALLIES | JOURNEYMAN PROTECTORS | NIO | Noel Strasza | Don Belkora | Noel Strasza | Tavish Steiger | OPEN
ENEMIES | MONTEREY CIRCLE |

 

[Don Belkora]

CONCORD_DAWN_
DON 'BANDIT' BELKORA
COMPNOR
Tags: Izoshi

"Well, i ain't getting shot, miss and I ain't in the business of hauling your fething body back to headquarters neither," he retorted back, taking his flat cap off and wiping the sweat off his streaked brow with a face of disgust. Further down from the pair, more blaster fire could be heard along with the occasional punctuation of explosions. When Donny boy was younger and more fit and had a hairline, he was all for a shootout and a bit of a punch up with rivals. But pushing middle age and having spent half his COMPNOR career keeping books for Harrsk and organising hit jobs. He felt awfully out of shape and contemplated quitting smoking as he lit up another cigarra. The irony wasn't lost on him in that fleeting moment. Belkora took up his position, nodded to Izoshi and waited in place for the poor sods to be drawn out.​

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[Lucien Dooku]

HARLAN // CONCORD DAWN
Vibes | Maynard Treicolt | Drip

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Ziost.

The Alliance's campaign into Sith territory brought back memories that he wished were easy to forget. The Triumvirate's efforts to break the Sith asunder had ended in mixed results, but the fracturing of their Empire into several warring states had been the one silver lining to the whole ordeal.

At least, aside from the reclamation of Serenno.

He listened intently to his friend's words, nodding along as he spoke. "Sometimes all we can do is take what we're given, and that must be enough." He replied in response, empathizing with the path the Jedi chose to spare his men a similar fate. "A good commander must know when to accept the losses of his men or to make those decisions which may damn himself and those who follow him into whatever that cause may be. We can't save everyone, no matter how proficient we get at killing our enemies without becoming one of them. But sometimes a good leader must ignore the counsel of those he trusts, and follow his gut. Even if that means it's you who ends up taking the heat."

He crossed his arms over his chest, shrugging towards the end of his little speech. "I get it, brother. Shit happens." ​

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[Noel Strasza]

O B S C E N I T Y
W A R M A C H I N E
OBJ | RUSTY CAGE
// Tavish Steiger \\

The Warmachine nodded from her position as Tavish relayed the coordinates and swiftly, she slid her scattergun into the sling nested upon her lower back, unshouldering the hidden rifle kept beneath her cloak and swinging it about. Silent boots saw her down the street, retracing their steps, until she rounded the corner and scaled the mounded steps leading up into something of a now corpse-littered plaza. The blip his coordinates placed on her HUD flickered and wavered, but it didn't move from its place entirely.

Amateur.

Strasza braced her rifle beneath an arm, compressing the forward grip at the corner of a half wall, anchoring in place. A lean forward saw her vision honed in the lens of her scope. She searched along the buildings, sweeping wide to align her horizon and ensure her geometry was synced properly from last mission to this one. She almost though Tavish had read her wrong, until the slightest glint of out-of-place steel caught her eye and she smirked, snorting some with amusement. Didn't think to cover his helmet either. Brilliant, these people were.

< "I got 'im,"> her voice crackled through the static over comlink, < "Keep spottin', I'll keep shootin'." >

And without further word, the cyborg pulled the trigger and sent the sniper tumbling to his grave without so much as a crack of thunder.​

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

T H E _ W O L F
PROTECTOR OF CONCORD DAWN
ARMOR | LIGHTSABER | PISTOL
Lucien Dooku ​

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"I did what I think was right. Nothing bad deserved to get done to any of the other Marines with me on Ziost. I didn't want to leave them in any bad conscious. I love 'em. I hated to leave 'em but...had to do what was best for me. And that's here. I know you can get that more than anything else. Home." Maynard iterated before motioning Lucien to follow him up the dusty path leading to a derelict hill top.

"Concord Dawn isn't any wealthy, prosperous or safe place...but it's home. Not all my memories here were bright and happy, hell barely any of 'em were...but it's home." Maynard explained as he looked over the landscape, golden fields, errant homesteads.

"But it's a proud people here, these are the kind of conditions that bred up some of the finest Mandalorian warriors. And the Journeyman Protectors, a tradition I'm keen on keeping here. These people have been through enough, reign of the Sith, collapse of the Union...they need hope." Maynard remarks.

 

[Izoshi]

M A L W A R E
W I D O W M A K E R
// BLOW-IT-UP \\
Don Belkora

Like an actress about to trounce across the stage, Izoshi took a few seconds outside of the makeshift pub door, reaching down to grab a fistful of dirt and smear it across the T-visor on her face and down the glistening chestguard she wore. The blood splatter from Belkora's motions earlier would just help her story, and further her cause of mock-distress. The chiss, undercover as she was, got into her character with sociopathic ease, tapping into the emotions of the women they had executed only minutes prior to sell the role.

Suddenly, the swanky door of the seedy establishment thrust open and in scrambled Izoshi, panting and gasping for air as though she had just run a marathon to get here. With blood all over her chestguard and hands, she shrieked, crying out in Mando'a: "My son! Please! Someone has shot my son! He's dying!"

It wasn't seconds later that the rushed sound of chairs pushing out screeched across the floor and the hushed, slurring voices grew louder.

They would be outside in mere seconds.​

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