Invasion Great Balls of Fire | Agents of Chaos invasion of CIS-held Rodia and Talay

[Safira Haran]

L O C A T I O N | Rodia, Iskaayuma - Weapons Factory District, CDC Command Post
O B J E C T I V E | Spring the Trap
E Q U I P M E N T | Armour - M-8 Shotgun - 8 Gauge Tazer Rounds - TDW M47 “C” Assault Rifle - Raxus Relief Gas - Water of Life Potions
T A G S | Haastal Haran - Luna Terrik - Tiria Reinhart - Jasmille Kavos - Typhan Berrezz - Subject 73 Red ​

Safira had never really cared much for night. Naturally, it was the best time for cover, and the best time to hide if you didn’t want to be seen, but it was also quiet. Always too quiet. Having lived most of her life in it already, silence was not an enjoyable pastime for Safira. Besides, when it was too quiet her hearing aids picked up the smallest of sounds, and amplified them by a thousand. The soft scuffle of a boot, the crack and crunch of stones underfoot, the gentle clink of armour. It all sounded as though it were inches away from her ear.

Standing restlessly beside Haastal, less interested in her tumbler of whiskey than he was, Safira could have easily broken the silence, but she didn’t dare. This was a moment of anticipation, a moment where they were on the cusp of a war that they would potentially not survive. Quiet contemplation was best for times like these. Times when you think the drink in your hand might just be the last.

Hastaal was the first to break the tension that had been slowly gathering over the thousands of soldiers standing in wait. Safira perked up, turning her head to face him with a curious expression. It wasn’t unusual to hear him swear, but it was nerve wrecking considering what they were waiting for. When it came to war, unless you were the one handing them out, surprises were no fun at all. When he put the helmet over his head, Safira was cut out, party only to one side of the conversation. The first word he uttered did not come as a shock. The Agents were known terrorists. There were bounties bigger than any Safira had ever seen on a few of their heads.

A somewhat bemused look crossed her face when he spoke again, this time with no short amount of doubt in his tone. Safira slid out of her seat eagerly at his next words, abandoning her glass on the table and heading straight for the nearest window. What she saw made her raise a brow in sheer disbelieve. “What in the kriffing hell…” Her tone was warranted, the unnecessarily aggressive fireworks display lit up the night sky in the most offensive way. “What a waste of explosives.” Safira said with a slight hint of disappointment to her tone.

Turning back to face Haastal as he addressed the masses, Safira readied herself. Pushing her own helmet over her thick raven curls, Safira turned and smiled to Typhan Berrezz and Tiria Reinhart , even though they couldn’t see it. “Looks like it's time. Hope you’re ready to kick some dumb glittery ass.”

 

[Draconis Sederius Wolf]

Location: SLDF Expeditionary High Command Center (located away from major cities)
Objective: Ruin the AoC's day
Tags: Madalena Antares Scherezade deWinter Larentia Luna Terrik Safira Haran BX-72967-RAZOR Haastal Haran Domino Ishmael Verd

Spoiler: GEAR

Standard Confederate Battle Armor Overlay/Undersuit, M-47C, EBFAK, L-7 pistol,

Theme: Cry havoc and unleash the Devil Dogs of War
​

The command room was one that was abuzz with energy as men of various ranks ran to and fro, each plotting points and delivering processed data around a massive centralized table. Draconis's Joint Battle Command and Control Platform was pulling in all the data it possibly could, from every avenue of communications possible at all of the CDF's highest encryption. And on the map was a virtual representation of each and every soldier on the ground, every emplacement they'd built, every tank, vehicle, or aircraft they'd brought to the battlefield. Draconis had seen to their preparations, setting the ground and laying all of their defenses with their numerous and vast amounts of engineers and support personnel. This world would be the battleground where the AoC discovered that they were no longer able to do as they pleased. That their actions had consequences, and no longer would the SLDF, or even the greater CDF, hold back for the sake of saving as many as they could. This was war. Absolute, total war. Only here the Agents of Chaos couldn't use their favorite tactics that they so brazenly accused the CIS of. Using civilians as either a punchline or as literal human shields. The Surric Local Defense Forces had been mustered, and the entire Expeditionary unit was here. Over 1 million men and women at arms across the planet, prepared, waiting, ready for the Agents of Chaos to make their next move. Which the SLDF was determined to make their last. The ground had been prepared, various traps, and "presents" were left waiting for the Agents to uncover, at quite obvious targets for them to strike at, including the capital. Which was why Draconis smiled when he heard the transmission from Madalena Antares . He looked over to one of his aides, already knowing the answer to his question but asking anyways just to be sure.

"Captain, what's the unit that we have station in and around the capital?"

"First Marines sir! I just got off the comms with Colonel Nash, they are ready sir,"

"And our little surprises?"

"We started at the capital first sir, so they are more than ready,"

"Good, tell the Colonel I expect his Marines to give them a good show. Have 1st and 2nd Divisions move in to support them, encircle the capital from the ground and ensure nothing gets out. Get me on the horn with Commander Luna Terrik , we need to clear phase one of the operation. And prepare my dropship,"

The captain would only nod as he went to get Draconis a secure comm line to the commanding officer of the CDF. Draconis smiled, they had decided to try and strike at the "heart" of the Rodian planet even though her true heart was the people. Factories could be rebuilt. Homes could be rebuilt. People could not be replaced. Draconis had seen their malice when he was on the ground on Ryloth. He knew this would be all too familiar type of enemy. One that didn't care whether or not they killed innocents. One that would the biggest hypocrites in the galaxy by calling the CIS an Empire when they literally went to planets and took people as slaves. Draconis had done his research after Ryloth. He'd seen what kind of animals they were dealing with. And for him and the rest of the SLDF, this was now about vengeance. They would avenge their fallen and the people the AoC had and tried to kill on Ryloth. They would be the wolf that stood guard at the door against the unwavering darkness of night. Where before the AoC had found soldiers trying to focus on saving as many as they possibly could, they would now find them doing what they were trained exactly to do. To fight and kill the enemies that would dare seek to harm the people of the CIS. And unfortunately for the AoC, they'd run into the 1st Marine RCT "The Devil Dogs". These men and women had survived and lead the charge through the heart of the Surric System's own civil war. They'd seen a hell that most couldn't even imagine. And now, they were intent on one thing and one thing only. Repaying the Agents' with violence and bloodshed, exacting their payment in the form of Agents' blood. The captain would come back with a secure comm unit to Luna, passing it to Draconis.

"Commander, my Marines are in position, requesting authorization to execute the first phase of the operation,"

The Agents of Chaos would soon find out what kind of leviathan they'd unleashed on themselves as behind every blade of grass they would have to wonder whether they'd find a bomb, a gun, a bunker or tanks. The SLDF wasn't focused on saving lives anymore. They were now highly focused on taking them.

---Capital City---

Colonel Nash was sitting back in his chair as he heard the announcement of the Agents of Chaos. He'd had a cigar in his mouth and would only smile as he listened to the no doubt quite smug and supposedly all powerful Agents of Chaos with their challenge. Draconis had been right to put him and his men in this position. He chuckled as a few things started kicking off already and he looked over at a young specialist that was his driver and communications specialist.

"We get the go word yet?"

"No sir, still waiting on the authorization from higher to begin the attack,"

"Well at least our friends inside will keep them waiting eh? Too bad, at least if they survive the droids we'll know they'll be a solid fight,"

"That's if they don't find our gifts,"

The Colonel chuckled as the lower enlisted mentioned that. Their little fireworks display would soon be the least of anyone's worries in the dome. Especially since the SLDF had made certain to prepare the ground for this invasion. And had every intent of salting the earth with whatever was left of these animals when the fighting was done.

 

[Dasmi Lindervale]

-A D M I R A L - LO-NOTAR-​

ALLIED TAGS: Bella Salem Norongachi Willam Forlon
OBJECTIVE: Talay Space
ENEMIES: Unknown as of yet.

The trandoshan Admiral paced inside the command center of the Sentinel Class vessel, the formation adjusting before entering hyperspace into that of a fan. The Monarch Class Destroyers arranged in front in such a way that each would drop out of hyperspace and cover each other’s sides. One was ahead of the others, the spearhead of the formation as the other four paired off behind it in a tight V-formation.

The trio of Sentinel Heavy Explorers were nestled inside the formation with only the singular Mark VII even more securely wound into the formation behind the Sentinel’s and the Monarch’s. The Disruptor’s behind them in their own V-formation.

The finale for it all was the LRAS Darts some ways back from them. From their last jump point, they had split into three groups to provide staggered fire support for the Admiral. They would remain at the farthest distance possible of their effective weapon range, receiving encrypted raw targeting data from the Sentinels that played the dual role of target information projection, and sensor scrambling.

Lo-Notar hissed at coming to the planet once more. He had been here with that teacher person, Kahne. His eyes narrowed. That name sounded wrong. Kahne..Karne? Kaine! Kaine was the man’s name. The Butcher Of Eshan. The man most everyone seemed to fear.

Lo-Notar smiled, pointed teeth set in a manner that made most in the CIC uncomfortable. He respected Kaine, an effective strategist with a healthy ability to strike fear into the hearts of his enemies with his mere presence. He recalled readily how many had come to strike against them when Lo had come with the other man to attack this planet. He wondered how many would show up this time.

Grumbles around the Trandoshan had his eyes focusing on the officers around him.

“Is there some issue?” He hissed, eyes snapping to him as a pair looked between each other and then back to the Admiral. They were nervous, all of them were nervous. But an even larger number of them were angry. Lo-Notar could work with anger.

“We are ready to take this fight to them. They bombed our home-”

“Killed innocent people. And call us-”

A three fingered hand went up, stopping them both.

“Focus on fighting, not working yourselves up. This hunt was left unfinished when I was chased from Talay with Kaine.” That strange Trandoshan smile returned. “We do not leave hunts...unfinished.” He hissed under his breath. The pair slowly nodded and returned to their stations. He focused back on the drawn stars ahead of him, watching for their last few moments of travel.

Having been made to run from this planet once with Kaine, he was loath to run from it again. A rite of passage for Trandoshans was always a great hunt. A means to prove their ascendance to skilled and capable members of their society.

Lo-Notar had taken far more away from his rite, than simply becoming a true member of his society. There was always a new hunt in the coming days. A new prey to chase and rid the universe of. This was no different, he just wondered if he was the hunter, or the prey. They had kicked the Rancor’s nest with Ryloth, but if the Confederates felt the Agents were no threat, then the chance of heavy resistance was likely to be minimal.

After all. They were not the Butcher of Eshan. Who could hope to be as feared, or even more feared than that man?

The drop from hyperspace was sudden. The stars bending back to their own shape as the planet came into view once more. He hoped he would not see it a third. By one way or another.

“Deploy the Starfighters. Have them keep behind the shields of the Monarch’s until I give the command. Disruptors follow suit. We will provide data as soon as it becomes available to the Darts via encrypted transmission as we practiced. Seal the bulkheads on all vessels, now move!” Lo-Notar had ordered upon their drop.

The able-bodied beings within the fleet moved with alacrity. The power cores for the proton pulse beams spinning up as the dual hypervelocity cannons of each Monarch swiveled and watched for targets. Shields were powered up and charged in short order.

The air around the ships buzzed to life with the Needle Interceptors that grouped dangerously close below the fleet. The Misery Sphere’s hummed as they exited the Disruptors, their green hull shining in the light of the far flung sun.

Darts dropped from hyperspace, setting up at their maximum distance before going to blackout lights and low power systems. Baffles folded over the engines, jets, and thrusters. A fixed point ahead of the main fleet had been given to them, all three groups of four focusing the entirety of their hull mounted rail gun to that point.They were painted with reflec, matching the backdrop around them.

Their alloy hull would nullify scans paired with the coating, making it seem as though nothing were there until it was too late. The deep space messages were never answered, but always received as they prepared to adjust to their first set of coordinates.

The low lighting set a dark mood in the hold of the Darts, a number of beings waiting anxiously for the red light to emerge overhead. The constant hum of the now diverted power around them reduced the charge by a drastic amount. It made them sitting ducks, but speed was more important.

The conveyer was retraced currently. The large kinetic round waiting on the rack for the first to be shot into the void of space at alarming speed. Hands were upon it, the line on the floor for safety highlighted by the low light that cast shadows across these hunters faces. Lo-Notar had made sure to speak with them, and they all knew their goal in the end.

The Mark VII began working it’s jamming system alongside the Sentinels, prepared for whatever dropped in as Lo-Notar kept his gaze from focusing on one spot. Dimitri had stayed behind at the Scintilla, his flagship the Unicorn patrolling the airspace around the scintilla in some measure of self comfort. Lo found it funny to think about.

There was nothing from Lo-Notar being sent to Rodia, as he cared little for that battle at the moment. There was also nothing from Fleet Admiral Dimitri being sent that way either, as he was back at the Scintilla with his flagship.

​

Spoiler: Equipment

1 K914 SMG
Phase I Haywire Armor

​

Spoiler: Fleet Under Lo-Notar's Control

• Monarch Class Destroyers - 5 (6 active squadrons each)​
  • 30 iNf-46 Needle Interceptor Squadrons (480)​
• Sentinel Class Heavy Explorer - 3 (2 active squadron each)​
  • 4 Oni Class Prowler Squadrons (48)​
  • 4 iNf-46 Needle Interceptor Squadrons (64)​
• LRAS Dart - 12​
  • Well outside the main formation​
• S.R.R.S.S. Mark VII - 1​
• Disruptor Class Corvettes - 10 (1 active squadron each)​
  • Misery Sphere Interceptor - (80)​

STARFIGHTER SQUADRONS INFO -​

• Oni ClassProwler (12 per squad)​
• iNf-46 Needle Interceptor (16 per squadron)​
• Misery Sphere Interceptor (8 per squadron)​

-Dimitri - REMAINING AT THE SCINTILLA-​

• SHC Unicorn- Dimitri Lindzinsky (12 active squadrons)​
  • 3 Squadrons Oni Prowlers (36)​
  • 9 Squadrons Needle Interceptors (144)
• Pocket Carriers - 8 (4 active squadrons each)​
  • 8 Squadrons Oni Class Prowleer (96)​
  • 24 Squadrons Needle Interceptors (384)
• Monarch Class Destroyers - 1 (6 active squadrons each)​
  • 2 Squadrons Oni Class Prowler (24)​
  • 4 Squadrons Needle Interceptors (64)
• Disruptor Class Corvettes - 10 (1 active squadron each)​
  • Misery Sphere Interceptor - (80)​
• Wraith Vessels - 30​
• Kessel Class Armed Couriers - 57​

​

​

 

[Eldoc Quasat]

Location: Iskaayuma
Wearing: Robe and Clothes
Wielding: Phase Candles | Vita Stones | Glitter Grenades | Breathing Mask
Allies: Agents of Chaos + Allies | Nerium Madalena Antares + Open
Enemies: Confederacy +Their allies

Eldoc was tired of sitting. He also worried that he didn't bring enough booze for this mission as it required a bit more stealth than he was used to. But now the waiting was over. He took a drink of his flask before securing it and taking his saber of his belt. He would save the green glow of his blade for when there was something worth cutting. He knew the game, ruin some factories, hopefully snag some more alcohol and earn some coin. Also there were those innocent people killed by the CIS. This whole mission was exciting. He might of found home here. He looked to the woman in front of him.

"So any particular factory?, I mean as nice as this roach motel was. I can't wait to get started." He smirked hoping that maybe he could find a tough opponent today. If not, well he got to hit factories and if nothing else he could maybe snag something worth some credits. Eldoc looked around noting how desolate the place was. Most had taken both of the sides offer of evacuation. Made friend or foe easy at least. Cracking his neck he prepared to follow his comrades in arms.

 

[Valkur]

Location: The Discordia's Vengeance
Allies: Kyrinov
Wearing: Dark clothes and robes
Weapons: Lightsaber

Screams.
​

A lot of screams. Discordia's Vengeance, the ship was called - and the name seemed to fit. It's sheer size, the volume of the pain around them. He imagined it lived up to its name in raw power, too. But he wasn't here to focus on the power of the ship he was in. An invasion was happening, Kyrinov had told him something about it. Many innocents killed, an enemy they had fought before this. It was a lot to take in, and little that really mattered to Valkur. Weapons didn't ask questions, nor did they care who they were used against. Whether Kyrinov viewed him as a weapon, a person, or something else entirely had yet to be truly discovered. He was still just a weapon. That was all he had been before, why would it change now?

True to his mentality, Valkur kept his lightsaber at his side at all times, even when safe in their own ship. If an ambush only happened where he expected it then it'd be an inefficient ambush. Better to assume nowhere is safe. Even if his saber was weak or designed for training, it wasn't as if he could wander somewhere new and find one. It was all he had, and it had worked so far.

When he finally arrived in the giant room, screams still echoing on occasion down the ship, Valkur looked to Kyrinov and nodded - expression empty. "You asked for me?" he questioned simply, standing himself straight and addressing the man with as much respect as could be expected from someone with no training in etiquette. Slowly, he entered closer to what he could only consider his mentor now. At least, he assumed that was their relationship. Friend didn't seem right, Valkur had only ever had one of those - and it wasn't anything remotely similar. Perhaps it would change over time, but as of now, it was a strictly business-focused relationship. With all of the training he expected to receive, mentor was the only title fitting.

As he spoke with Kyrinov, the man couldn't help but wonder why he was kept behind on a ship rather than sent for what he was designed to do. Killing was in his blood, somewhat literally with the chips they had given him. His experiments saw to it that he was able to take down enemies on mass. All it took was a drop of anger, a pinch of hatred. It seemed a waste almost. If you had ten guns, why only use nine? What was the point in keeping one behind in a war of this size? Maybe he was yet to gain the trust for a mission of this importance.

"If you need me out there for anything, I'll go. Just give the word."

 

[Rashae]

Objective: Medical Aid

Medical Fleet – less seek and destroy as to more taking care of the result of war.

Where: outside the Rodia and the Talay system. Not even in the ballpark but ready to receive wounded.

Allies: Agents of Chaos but will provide services to anyone

Commander Stephen Cantalos Polaris would come out of warp quite a distance away from either Rodia or the Talay system. It wasn't ideal but the safety of this medical fleet was paramount. They were not a fighting force by any means. From even a far distance anyone could see the huge red and white cross that Rashae always displays when in the area of conflict. It would be highly polished and gleam against the stars around. Her medical fleet composed of the following:


Padme ==Medstar Class Medical Frigate: https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/MedStar- class_frigate/Legends

Lawrence and Franklin -- Pelta Class Medical frigate: https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Pelta- class_frigate

4 Medical Class Corvette -- Robin, Swallow, Lark, Dove - - https://www.starwarsrp.net/threads/medic-class-medical-corvette.86166/

8 swoop bikes fitted for medical use. two on each of the corvettes. dont know where the link went off to.

4 BFF=1 bulk freighters -- Shisteen, Balken, Torten, Lokstor -- https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/BFF-1_bulk_freighter


The Commander would tighten his jaws as this always made him a bit nervous. He was an old veteran of many wars but it still did not get any easier. He lifted his hand to touch the ear piece as he let the Minister, as she had been always called on this fleet, know that they have arrived. What made him more nervous was that the woman was going to go to the surface of Rodia to oversee the humanitarian aid of Rodian citizens. She would head up the clinic part of the humanitarian aid and if she had time see if she could locate a particular orchid. Since Rodia was a swamp environment, there was all sorts of plant life that could hold genetic secrets. She wouldn't tell that to anyone but she would carve out time to do so.

A soft long sigh would lightly bellow out of the Commander with a long air stream out of his nostrils as he looked forward as they came out of warp. This Medical fleet was a well oiled machine by now. Years of working together. Here they found themselves in yet another conflict and patching up what war torn apart in both body and mind.

The medical fleet was primarily there for the Agents of Chaos as a free agent, but Rashae made it a point that she treated anyone and everyone. Any Confederates who find themselves in their care would be on a different wing and if enough of them, a different ship entirely. The Medical Fleet would still be working long after all the fighting was done. They were the last to arrive and usually the last to leave.

The Commander would give a nod to the communications officer to put out general notification of unarmed Non-combatant humanitarian aid in the area. Their location is well outside the system of Rodia and Talay but their communications is good enough to broadcast the information. They prepared for the inevitable space traffic that usually made their way to the medical fleet for wounded and those just trying to get out of the way.


@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@


Objective: Do you really want to hurt me


Where: 10 KM from the outer limits of Iskaayuma


Rashae would be wearing the following:

Light Armor -- https://www.starwarsrp.net/threads/rashaegam.94911/

Throwing knives -- https://www.starwarsrp.net/threads/rashaekal-rashae-blades.92750/


Four medical corvettes would start their descent down to the surface on the opposite side of the planet from the capital and then skirt the atmosphere till they reached the coordinates. They were enough away from the capital city. The corvettes would land and start to disembark the crew including Doctor Rashae Lovous herself. They would start to set up the Mobile Hospital and Aid center. One team would work on a triage and intake area. One team would set up a mess tent to feed people. Another team would set up supplies that would be given to the people that came to the Mobile hospital. Still another would be setting up a Center of control to keep everything flowing. Yet another team would be organizing an internment camp to house those that were family of someone being treated or needed somewhere to go that was not a warzone.

The raven haired beauty would be looking out over the set up from a jungle covered hill. She would be looking at the foliage for anything unusual as well but she mainly wanted to get away from the organized chaos. She had two Godkillers with her at all times. It had been boring with them shadowing her all the time so this was something they could sink their teeth in a little. She was far enough away to not even be able to see the capital city as she was advised this was the best location. Solid ground despite the swamp around. Ardgal would probably hate her being even this close to the front lines but she was doing what she did best.

Anyone and everyone would have access to her services. It was her fleet and her medical crew that would be providing the services. She didn't keep prisoners of war. Rashae was well known for her policies. She stood there on that hill overlooking the deeply jungle system. Bugs would fly by and try to land on her but decided not to. The scientist had sprayed herself with an agent that made her not appetizing to bugs. It didn't smell that great but it worked. It was hell to wash out of the hair as well but was better than being eaten by bugs. She had her skin to look after. The light armor she wore fit her like a glove and shimmered in white against the deep jungle green. She stuck out like a sore thumb but that was probably a good thing at the moment.

 

[Kiff Brayde]

T A L A Y

Objective: Turn the Agents of Chaos into Space Dust
Location: Talay System, Rimward
Allied Tag: John Locke | Darth Metus | Visanj T'shkali | Open to Confederacy
Terrorist Tag: Dimitri Lindzinsky | Willam Forlon | Open to Agents of Chaos

Kiff was many things. A gambler. A High Marshal. A suave rogue. A shameless charmer. But no matter what he was or what he did, Kiff had always felt a sense of honor and duty. To his people, to his crew, to his nation. The Confederacy had taken him off the streets when no one else had, and it was in the Confederacy that Kiff had found his true family. Jol. Orril. Verryk. They had all served with him and had become among Kiff's closest friends, akin to family.

The Agents of Chaos didn't know decency. They didn't know honor, and they only fought to kill and wreak terror. They openly lied through their teeth, unashamed of their crimes. Of course, that would usually only mean that Kiff would've considered them to be upstanding people of character, but the fact remained that they were attacking his home. His family.

Kiff was throwing a major Agents of Chaos-whoopin' party, and RSVPs were already through the roof.

If they were trying to pull off a surprise attack, Kiff was slightly surprised by the sheer ineptitude that the Agents of Chaos seemed to be displaying at the moment. His forces had been briefed by Intelligence Command, and apparently the terrorists had decided to make not only their location but the date of attack known to the entire galaxy. Kiff could only assume that their egos had been astronomically inflated from their smash-and-grab run on Ryloth, but even Kiff, who was as egotistical as you could get, still had a couple of ounces of common sense in his brain.

Kiff's entire fleet sat in dead orbit around a lifeless, nameless moon-sized planet in the Talay System, with all power turned off and systems running on a minimal support. They were hiding, in essence, from any watchful scanners or would-be invaders; the gravity well of the moon concealed the physical presence of Kiff's fleet, and all comm chatter had been silenced until the signal was given from command. Kiff was intent to sit and wait for the Agents of Chaos to reveal themselves.

In the meantime, who said that waiting had to be boring?

Kiff, Commander Jol, and Lieutenant Orril sat around a small circular table in Kiff's expansive quarters of the Victator, the Invictus-class battlecruiser that had served as the High Marshal's flagship since before he'd even been promoted to the rank. The battlecruiser, like every other ship in the fleet, was running on emergency, and so only a single emergency light illuminated the room, situated directly over the table. On that table was a worn pack of Correllian Spike Sabacc, and right now Kiff and his two officers were in a heated match, a stack of credits sitting in the 'pot' in the middle. Technically gambling was against fleet regulation, but as the highest-ranking officer in said fleet, Kiff was able to get some leeway for that.

"Fifteen," Jol called out, his mouth masked by a luscious white beard. The old first mate had his officers cap still on, and his crinkled brown eyes were focused intently on his cards. Everything about Jol seemed to speak "regulation," from the crisply ironed cuffs to the polished boots of his impeccable uniform. In many ways, the Commander was indeed a great foil to the unorthodox approaches that Kiff took to his command and his life in general.

"I'll raise you by twenty," Verryck declared as he pushed the appropriate amount of credits into the table; Kiff and Jol obligingly did the same. Verryck had served with Kiff before Jol had, but the senior comms master had spent a good several months at Sector Command before being reassigned to Kiff's flagship. Even when he'd been stationed on Fondor, Kiff and Verryk had found chances to catch up on things, and now that he was back it felt just like old times; times when Kiff had just been a Sky Marshal running across the galaxy chasing for battle and glory.

"Fifty," Kiff said with a devilish smile, letting that be the only outward sign of whatever his intents or purposes were. For Kiff, a smile was just as effective as a poker face, and if anything it only had his opponents guessing more. Jol raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he slid his own credits into the pot, but Verryk let out a bark of laughter before throwing in his own share.

"Here are the spike cards," Verryk announced as he dealt out the third card to himself, Jol and Kiff, all facing up. Varryk had gotten a negative nine, Jol a three, and Kiff himself had gotten a plus-seven. Jol's nine was definitely a chance draw, a card that could have both a lot of risks or a lot of rewards, depending on the value of the first two cards that Jol had received. Jol seemed unperturbed as he cast his bet, a high thirty that seemed not-characteristic of the old commander

"Double," Verryk replied almost instantly, his dark eyes shining almost as much as his jet-black hair. Kiff's smile remained as he simply raised an eyebrow in an almost mirror-like reflection of Jol. The actual Jol merely gruffed and put his number in the pot. The man didn't exactly have the same taste for theatrics as Kiff and Verryk did.

"And I'll double that," Kiff finished as he slid a total of one-hundred and twenty credits into the pot, which was by now getting rather large. All three put their credits in a pile before Kiff picked up the dice. The next step in a standard game of Correllian spike would be to roll the dice, and either discard two cards of choice or if double 'spikes' were rolled, they would all have to discard and start with a new set of cards.

Kiff picked up the dice, feeling them tumbling around in his cupped palm as he shooked them.

He rolled.

Spoiler: Fleet

• Flagship:
  • Invictus-class Battlecruiser
    • CNS Victator
• 513th Heavy Attack Line:
  • x5 Grievous-class Star Destroyers
    • CNS Exigent
    • CNS Carrhae White
    • CNS Ikelos
    • CNS Apotheosis
    • CNS Iron Lord
  • x2 Argente-class Assault Cruisers
    • CNS Last Disciple
    • CNS Shadowrun
  • x4 Terrus-class Flak Frigates
    • CNS Akelia
    • CNS Forethought
    • CNS Pedestal
    • CNS Rock Elder
• 531st Carrier Line:
  • x1 Lucrehulk III-class Supercarrier
    • CNS Arkham Nights
  • x2 Murkhana-class Escort Frigates
    • CNS Silver Wings
    • CNS Destined Call
  • x4 Terrus-class Flak Corvettes
    • CNS Ormano
    • CNS Carrion
    • CNS Xalion
    • CNS Moondark

Spoiler: Actions

• The entire fleet is powered down in low orbit of a lifeless, unidentified dwarf planet rimward in the Talay system. All systems are shut down or on emergency power, comms are silent and the fleet is hidden in the shadow fo the planet's gravity well.
• Kiff is playing Sabacc.

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[John Locke]

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D E F E N D

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Location: In Orbit around Talay​

Tagging:​

CIS: Xobos Yakieer | Kiff Brayde​

AOC: Willam Forlon | Dimitri Lindzinsky​

Fleet:​

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Spoiler: Fleet

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SC-013 “Lucrehulk III” Class Super Carrier​

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Subjugator II​

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Grievous-class Star Destroyer x 5​

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Arjuna-class Artillery Destroyer x 5​

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Terrus-class Flak Corvette x 5​

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Argente-class Assault Cruiser x 4​

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The ghosts of Ryloth still haunted them, the failure of the Southern Systems to fully protect their citizens against the maelstrom of devastation and fury unleashed by the terrorists, the self-styled freedom fighters. Against those scum who had brought death and devastation to an innocent world, to a world that hadn’t asked for it. That was the worst of it, the Twi’leks had been happy citizens of the Confederacy, they hadn’t asked to be ‘freed’. However, those terrorists hadn’t cared, they hadn’t cared when the Twi’leks themselves had told them to leave, told them they weren’t wanted. Why would they? They obviously knew what was better for the rest of the galaxy’s population than the citizens themselves and were determined to push it onto them by hook or crook.

This wasn’t bringing freedom to those who had been oppressed, this wasn’t freeing slaves. This wasn’t the moral ground, in one action, in one breath they had revealed who and what they were. Nothing more than common terrorists. In the face of death, of a population truly in need what had they done? Run away to fight over a religious site. People had been dying and they didn’t care. That act, that one act more than anything told John all he needed to know about them. About how much they truly cared for the citizens of the galaxy.

The Rebellion of old that had brought down the Galactic Empire, heroes like Mon Mothma, Bail Organa, Admiral Akbar and Ashoka Tano. Those were freedom fighters to look up, rebels who had represented the best of what people could be. They had actually cared about people, not just those directly under them but all the people of the galaxy. They had reached out to help where they could, putting themselves in danger to help people for no other reason than they needed a hand. If they could see the galaxy today if they could see the actions of the vile scum who brought nothing but death and destruction in their wake those heroes of the past would turn in their graves. If they were alive today John had no doubt they would oppose these terrorists at every turn.

He was a poor replacement for them, unworthy to hold a candle to the sacrifice and ideal which they had championed. But, today, he would have to do.

The Exarch could feel the weight of those ghosts watching over his shoulder, the weight of the ghosts from Ryloth.

The terrorists who stood on the other side of the battlefield born of wings of fire and destruction, on Chaos itself had revealed who they were. Yet, thoughts of vengeance, of justice weren’t foremost on the cyborg's mind.

John had walked the streets of the ruined dome city on Ryloth. He’d seen the remains of the slaughter perpetrated on the citizens there first hand. The deaths they had allowed to happen, too consumed by their need to hurt the Confederacy to care about the innocent civilians who were trampled over in their haste.

The man couldn’t use the force, but there in those streets, you didn’t need it to sense the anguish and pain that filled the area. You could read it on the faces of the dead, on the blood that pained the walls and paths. The way a mother had died trying to protect her child, both skewered together, the father who had futilely tried to defend his home, his family from the wave of Lyleks that had torn his wife and children apart while he lay bleeding out unable to help them.

Countless stories, countless tragedies that should never have happened.

Vengeance?

Vengeance was useless, justice didn’t apply to a situation like this. You didn’t carry out vengeance against a rabid dog. You put it down to stop it hurting any more of your neighbours and family. Justice didn’t factor into it. You protected your own.

That’s why he was here, dark eyes sweeping over the screens in front of him. The data there pulled from the sensors of his entire fleet. Radar and lidar, every tool at their disposal sweeping the space around them for any sign of the arrival of the mad dogs.

A line of assault ships shielding a line of artillery ships bracketed by the two battlecruisers. Every ship crewed by the best of the Confederacy, every soul on board had seen the images, had walked through the streets. Silence was the name of the game, every operator on the bridge hunched over their consoles. Unwilling to let anything slip past them. Unwilling to show any weakness.

It seemed he wasn’t the only one haunted by ghosts today.

A quiet beep was the first sign, the screens lighting up with the enemy ships arriving. The vanguard of their forces.

“So it begins.”

A wave of his hand opened up a communications channel with the rest of the military forces in the system.

“All Confederates, this is Exarch Locke. We have no confirmed contact with the enemy, all hands prepare for combat.”

A deep breath as the cyborg closed his eyes, letting the mask of the Exarch slip away for a moment.

“Take a moment before the storm hits to look around. Look at the men and women next to you. You know them, you know their names, their stories. This is your family. The planet down there, it’s part of our family too. Our engineers and researchers, our civilians. Everyone joined the military for a different reason, there’s no right or wrong reason to join. Today though, today is about family. Each of you, everyone, here, in Rodia or spread across the Confederacy. We’re all family. We look out for one another, we support one another. And now a rabid dog has tasted blood. The ghosts of Ryloth are watching us. Make no mistake, we failed on that day. We failed our family, failed those who looked to us for safety, for protection.”

“Never again.”

“Today we protect our family. Today we answer the cries of the dead and put down the terrorists who care nothing of the lives they trample over. Take a moment to look around you, to remember your parents and children. Your brothers and sisters. If they’re allowed these ‘freedom fighters’ will bring their unique brand of fire death and destruction to your homes and your loved ones unless we stop them. Today you are the line.”

“The line doesn’t break. The line doesn’t bend.”

“Today we stop them from hurting anyone else.”

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Spoiler: tldr

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Fleet in orbit of Talay deployed in a defensive formation.​

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[Valeria de la Vallée]

Location: The Hope
Equipment: Frozen Heart, Voph's Apprentice Armor Mk1
CIS: Kyyrk | Acantha Malvern | The Monster | Rann Thress | Eenia Vahn | Isalor Grathan
AOC: Target Acquisition in Progress...

Rodia.

It was a planet that Valeria had little interest in and a planet that seemed more like a backwater than anything else. That being said she was a part of the Confederacy and Knights Obsidian now meaning that she’d have to care a little bit about all of its citizens now, not just the ones she deemed worth, and besides, Valeria had heard about these terrorists and heard about what they had done on Ryloth, she simply could not let them remain among the living as she would give no quarter to cowardly terrorists especially those whom would involve an entire planet’s worth of civilians. This time however would be different. Rodia had been evacuated leaving no civilians on the surface and this would mean that these terrorists would now have to fight true combatants from the various organizations within the Confederacy. Valeria had also heard that their had been several assassination attempts on Confederacy officials, this enraged her to no end. Her own family and life had been torn apart by assassins and she would show no mercy to those who now thought that was an acceptable way to conduct their affairs, the Echani in her knows they should’ve had the courage to face them in direct combat or a duel and yet, they proceeded with the least honorable solution available to them.

Valeria brought herself out of her thoughts as she knew the time was soon approaching for the engagement to begin and performed her final preparations for the engagement, reviewing the operational information and then proceeding to don the armor provided to them by Voph. She wasn’t particularly fond of the armor and would have much rather worn her own however her armor was ill-suited for space, she picked up her lightsaber, twirling it in her dominant hand with ease to ensure the armor would not impair her at all. She decided the armor was sufficient though she wished it had a cape, capes are so stylish after all, and then made her way to the boarding pods.

As she walked she heard Voph’s speech via comlink, she listened to it though it was mostly a reiteration of the operational plan that had been provided. As the speech ended she reached her boarding pod, it being next to two others. Valeria noticed that the speech had seemed to invigorate some of the rank and file individuals and so she approved of it, it had done its job. Before stepping in to her pod she noticed the two individuals boarding the pods to the right of hers, one was a blonde woman, slightly taller than herself, and the other was, compared to Valeria, an absolute giant of a woman with hair as black as a raven’s feathers and pale white skin that rivaled even Valeria’s. Valeria gazed at them until they had entered their pods fully and, feeling the jolt of the Hope’s primary engines and the deck plating’s shifting angle, then entered her own. She was intrigued and hoped that she would see them during the fighting.

After all, Valeria thought This is where the fun begins.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

S P I R I T S . A N D . G O D S . P R O T E C T . U S

Equipment: The Blood of Dathomir Armor | Nightmother's Ward | Water of Life Potions | Raxus Relief Gas | Rings X X X X | Circlet | Jam Buster

Location: Covenstead of Rodia, Rodia
Allied: Confederacy of Independent Systems
Hostile: Agents of Chaos
​

Time. Time had been on their side. And their enemy's. The Nightmother had warned the Confederacy of such treachery, but their efforts had been focused on ferrying the innocent off world -- no small task -- and preparing to respond in full to the Agents of Chaos. An organization that seemed emboldened by its success on Ryloth. One that had earned its place as perhaps the first truly barred from the Solanaceae's libraries and educational centers. For the Witches had no time for people that senselessly slaughtered people rather than engage in dialogue; nor for those that called for insurrection for perceived slights all the while the Agents of Chaos themselves possessing not an ounce of intent to do more than the Confederacy had -- in fact, their mandate seemed inclined to do far, far less.​

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In the time afforded to them, however, the Nightmother had not been nearly so distracted as many others. Not by the evacuation, anyway. Instead, she had come to Rodia and set to work preparing the Covenstead there for what was to follow. The most important of their local collection was relocated off world by magickal means as any space-worthy ships were swept up in the evacuation effort. Vytal had offered a personal assurance anything taken off site would be returned in the same condition it had been found. Obviously some items had been squirreled away for study, and she didn't feel it was worth arguing over that -- ensuring nothing was lost or destroyed was the important thing.​

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Then they had set to work preparing for what would follow. No doubt the Agents of Chaos felt the Confederacy was responsible for their precious Scintilla being attacked by a rogue element. Not that they cared to verify who conducted the raid; it was more important to rattle the sabers and prattle on about the most inane of things. After all, you rallied more to your cause through saber rattling and jingoism; though such groups rarely survived their founder. For them, the Nightmother would have some of the choicest magicks prepared.​

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She did not care if they played victim. For it was a cold, hard fact they had destroyed a piece of Ryloth's history just to spit in the face of every Witch on that planet. A matter which the Nightmother had not let stand as they swiftly rebuilt it and went about changing all the metaphysical locks. Now it would be their turn. Now it would be their time. And the Confederacy had seen to it to remove innocents that might get swept up in the reprisals.​

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"The Force Dome will remain up at all times unless I, Shamira Karuto , or Julra Repraj personally say otherwise," the Nightmother said to the five Witches and Confederate Defense Force leaders present that would oversee the Covenstead's security. "This Covenstead is closed to anyone that does not have our express permission to enter." What the center of learning lacked in inherent armament it made up for in layers of defense; and the CDF personnel would help dissuade any unwelcome visitors.​

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When they parted to see to the various tasks carried out by those that had remained behind, Vytal glanced over at the women with her, including Shalita Verd . "Shamira and Julra, you will each be responsible for one of the three seeds we empowered. I do not need to remind Shamira, whose study borne these, but take care when they are planted; for they will be a mighty and destructive force under your command." Vytal herself would hold on to the third. It took time to accomplish what they had, and each of them had been exhausted, but it mattered little. The fruit of their labor was at hand, and the enemies would reap what they sowed.​

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"Reports have come in of the enemy's location -- in the Capital. It would seem, for now, they had no intention of striking here. We will then gather our supplies and prepare to relocate closer to them. After all, I would not want to be an ungracious host; they have come all this way." The words might be playful, but her voice held no mirth, nor the fiery green of her eyes shimmer with amusement. "Do you have anything you ladies wish to say before we greet the terrorists?"​

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This morning, the Nightmother had reached out to the ancestral spirits of Rodia. She had listened to them and spoken of what was to come. Not all were in agreement, but then there was rarely ever an unanimous consensus among them. Enough were with her now, however. More than enough. Rodia was not for the taking, not for the conquering, and in need of no liberation. It was time to make that abundantly clear to those whose eyes were so willfully shut.​

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Acquired: Seed​

Template By: Darth Metus (Guy)​

 

[Amelia von Sorenn]

Location: The E'care Shukur | Defensive Blockade | Rodia System
Objective: WAR
Allies: Confederacy of Independent Systems | Kyyrk | Valeria de la Vallée | Acantha Malvern | The Monster | Rann Thress | Eenia Vahn | Isalor Grathan
Enemies: Agents of Chaos | Rashae
Post Count: II

Their orders had been simple ones; Destroy any vessel that approached Rodia that was not broadcasting the most recent Confederacy Identification Codes, and unfortunately, those four Corvettes that had somehow managed to slip through the Planetary Blockade were not in fact broadcasting such a code. There had been a time for compassion and leniency; that time passed when such overtures had been thrown into the Confederacy's face at Ryloth. Now, as she stood over the corpse that lay upon the bridge, blood dripping from her chin, she smirked carefully. Now was the time to truly give the Agents of Chaos their monster, their Baba Yaga to scare their misbehaving children at night. Even the crew knew not to question the orders, rather she didn't even need to provide a command for the crews to begin preparations.

"Ma'am, Opal Sabot and Righteous Immortality reporting they have targeting vectors, weapons locked and ready at your command."

Slowly stepping towards a view screen to keep her attention upon the void of space that was still lain out before them, she brought a hand up, lightly resting her fingertips upon her blood-soaked chin. She mused to herself for a moment, as she found it simply astonishing that even with such a graphic warning that they would still believe themselves untouchable just because they claimed to be there for some humanitarian or medical reason. It didn't matter, not in the slightest as she carefully nodded.

"They were warned. Unlike Ryloth - where they claimed to give us 8 minutes only to turn around and behead an innocent - we have no reason to give them a chance. They've made their decision, now they must dwell upon it, be it as survivors or wraiths in the next life."

"Ma'am?"

"You may fire when ready."

The woman smirked, her fangs showing as she carefully turned her attention to the waiting camera feeds from the two Battlecruisers. The vessels moved in a frightening ballet as their weapons were brought to bear. A series of Quad-Turbolaser Cannons took aim at the world below, their exact target the interloping vessels that had landed themselves in the jungle near the Capital. If the Agents of Chaos thought that they had a show with their fireworks, it was time for the Confederacy to provide Fireworks of their own.

For those that were working diligently there came a sound, distant at first, that grew into castrophany so immense...

There could be no time for screams...

There was only fire, and then...

Spoiler: Ame's Fleet

• The E'care Shukur
• Centurion II-class Battlecruiser
  • Opal Sabot
  • Righteous Immortality
• Interdictor III-class Star Destroyer
  • Southern Talon
  • Obsidian Banshee
  • Stiletto of the Ecclesiarchy
  • Blessed Cartridge
• Interdictor III-class Cruiser
  • Dark Forge
  • Goddess Defiant
  • Calypso
  • Pryor
  • Azurite Dragon
  • Gilded Chancery
  • Cyanide Redemptor
  • Chimera
• Hammerhead III-class Cruiser
  • The Rae
  • Sauma
  • The White Sun
  • Brass Heart
  • Ingracious Scythe
  • Lady's Revolver
• Starfighters / Bombers
  • Vulture III class Starfighter - (16) Squadrons
  • Colla class Droid Tri-Fighter - (15) Squadrons
  • Longsword class Starfighter - (15) Squadrons
  • Erinyes class Interceptor - (25) Squadrons
  • Nupperibo class Starfighter - (25) Squadrons
  • RMS-BC11 Starhammer-class Superheavy Bomber - (25) Squadrons
  • Gidim class Bomber - (25) Squadrons

Spoiler: Fleet Actions

• Opal Sabot and Righteous Immortality bombarding the (4) Medical Corvettes that have landed on Rodia and begun setting up camp

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[Caedyn Arenais]

Location: In-bound for Iskaayuma, Rodia.
Objective: Defend Rodia, Preserve CiS Space.
Inventory: Caedyn's Jedi Armor | Lightsaber.
Allies: The Confederacy of Independent Systems.
Opposition: The Agents of Chaos.

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The Assault Starfighter snapped out of Hyperspace with Rodia ahead and immediately began to transmit the IFF Codes of the Confederacy of Independent Systems relayed to the pilot by one Asaraa Vaashe . At the controls of the Fighter, Caedyn drove the smaller craft on through the Allied Blockade, taking special care to avoid getting caught in the cross-fire against the invading Forces as he sought to make lands fall and rendezvous with his Partner in the Capital City Iskaayuma. This time around however, there would be no Civilians in need of protection or Humanitarian Aid. This time, Caedyn had come ready and willing to fight for the Confederacy whom had for so long supported the Order of the Silver Jedi in their times of need.

To his mind, this Confederacy First fiasco was a ridiculous excuse to wage a war and result in the slaughter of millions of innocent lives, those whom wanted nothing of this tragic overzealous front of power wrought upon their home-lives. Like any Government or Political group in the Galaxy, the Confederacy had taken steps to do what they had felt was best for themselves. The Worlds they held under their vigil. Had it been the Order of the Silver Jedi to strengthen their borders in order to protect their citizens, then how would the Galaxy have responded? Diplomacy, Cooperation and understanding were the correct answers to problems caused by their endeavors, not the call to arms.

A long-time Alliance had stood between the Silver Jedi and the Confederacy, yet they sought no conflict nor settlement...In a time where the Galaxy seemed to have turned on the Confederacy, Caedyn wished to remind them who their friends were; After all, these acts of terrorism were nothing short of the same crimes the United Clans of Mandalore had been held accountable for. A Justice that the Confederacy and the Order of the Silver Jedi had seen through to the end, together.

"This is Caedyn Arenais of the Order of the Silver Jedi, to Confederate Fleet. Transmitting IFF codes to you now. Requesting landing clearance for Iskaayuma. Authorization via Lotus, Asaraa Vaashe" Caedyn signaled the Fleet. Confirmation coming in quickly, the Starfighter picking up speed as the thrusters kicked into full impulse and the agile craft dove down between the blockading vessels in-bound for the surface.

On the way down, Caedyn worked to ready himself for the landing. Through his Armor and the Starfighter's Beckon Call and Autopilot systems, the Fighter itself could be called upon once more when Caedyn needed the pickup. Once on the ground, it was to be all in his hands, just as he preferred it. Between now and then however, he worked to program the Fighter's autopilot coordinates to dock with one of the larger blockading CiS Vessels as advised by Asaraa, to ensure it's safekeeping and readiness for the returning venture home.

The landing itself was quick and painless, Caedyn moving to stand from the pilots chair, pushing the canopy high above himself as the Fighter swung in low over the outskirts of Iskaayuma, then vaulting over the side and landing to his feet before quickly moving to trigger the vessels return to the Fleet. Lightsaber already in his right hand, he proceeded to move on forward to enter into the Capital, calling on ahead to Asaraa for a situation report.

"Asa, I'm on the ground. Forward me your coordinates" he kept it brief, his eyes on his surroundings not yet having a lay of the land nor the intel on the opposition.

 

[Nyx N1X3]

Location: Iskaayuma, Rodia
Allied Command: Confederacy of Independent Systems
Enemy Command: Agents of Chaos

Equipment: Jackal Sniper Rifle | TDW L-7 Pistol | Cyberwarfare Defense Platform | Jam Buster Comlink | Thermal Detonators | Smoke Canisters
In Control of: NulCom Mini-Satellites

The Confederacy Intelligence Command was obviously keen on recent events among many other matters such a large body was forced to contend with. Nyx found herself most drawn to the most public of these threats as it had caused some communication damage with two worlds already. A conflict which she had only tangentially been a party of while dealing with other matters. Seeing how much damage these terrorists had done, it seemed important for her to be present this time around.

It was likely organics on neither side did not fully appreciate the time and effort necessary to repair the damage they inflicted on these worlds. Such an inefficient use of resources. Spending resources to destroy things only to spend more resources rebuilding them. It was a minor miracle the galaxy had yet to run out of resources given how often this cycle repeated itself.

The N1-series droid was perched within one of the highest towers of the Capital city. It had been a trivial matter to enter into a low-power state with only priority communication traffic picked up, and no transmissions sent to give away her position. Unlike organics, she did not need to eat or drink, and the commotion of evacuation soon passed into a peaceful stillness. That was until the Agents of Chaos set off their alarm clock to call attention to themselves and signal their sleeper agents to rise. How fortunate they made such a public announcement, as it caused Nyx to power back up and collect her rifle from the wall nearby.

A quick service check confirmed the railgun was fully operational. Quiet the weapon was not, but it was extremely effective to those unprepared.

Before doing anything reckless, however, Nyx kept the barrel away from the open arches that looked out over the city as she stayed in the shadows. The glow of her eyes had been turned down even as their operational effectiveness remain at one hundred percent. Their intensity was only ever intended to unnerve or terrorize the enemy, after all.

As Nyx observed movement in the emptied city, she discretely connected to the orbiting array of satellites. With the Agents graceful notification of their intent to strike, Intelligence was able to quite effectively deploy a mesh-network around both Rodia and Talay with plenty of time to spare. Normally deploying so many satellites -- even small ones -- took time. Tens of minutes, perhaps hours if you only had one ship. This would not be a problem today, and there'd be no complaint by innocents of having their access abruptly terminated should things developed to such a degree.

All that remained now was for Nyx to wait with her finger on both a literal and figurative trigger. To a droid this would be an eternity, yet there would never be a complaint issued; sometimes the most efficient course of action was to do nothing at all.

Tag: Luna Terrik | Haastal Haran | Anakwor Farlorn | Ciri Jade

 

[Tien Ulinesque]

W A T E R​

Objective: Hit the station
Time: 2100 Hours
Equipment: Star Anvil heavy blaster, XIPHOS Armor
Tags: | Ciri Jade | Damsy Callat |

Dropship rides were always too bumpy for Tien’s taste.

It didn’t matter how much the technology improved, these things still bucked like an Acklay in heat, and he absolutely hated riding them. Especially through an atmosphere like Talay’s. Bumpy and rough the entire way, and the last remnants of the meal they ate were threatening to make their way back up his throat. He had seen that horrifying result happen to many a solider. Poor men had to go an entire op with that smell being filtered through their visors. Disgusting. Which is partly the reason he forced his mind to go other places to distract him from the ever present threat of his lunch being deposited on the dropship floor.

One thought drifted to the Ministry of Secret’s operative they had been tasked with bringing on this op. Protective missions were not typically among the Dauntless Master Sergeant’s tasks. More often than not, Tien found himself in either support or front line roles. This commando task was a interesting break from the normality that had become the Kishiri’s life on the battlefield. Getting this woman to where she needed to go didn’t seem like that hard of a task, and, frankly, Tien wished to be back on Rodia with the rest of the Dauntless. This was a personal command from Luna however, and he was never of the mind to turn something like that down.

Instead, after a few moments of gazing toward the woman who’s complete task he did not know, his focus turned to the major. At least, that’s what he assumed the dark skinned woman was at this point. There was some…entanglement going on there that he honestly did not know what to think. Tien had been one of the few privy to seeing the pain that Damsy’s death had caused Luna, but with her being back, as elated as something like that should make his commander, he found her much more on the solemn side. It was..difficult to under the human’s emotions sometimes, as much as he tried to empathize with them. In his mind, the major was back, and any respect she deserved pre her death, she deserved now. Perhaps that was why he was on this mission with Alpha Squad instead of Q’ares, who was back on Rodia with Luna. No doubt that curious Zabrak would’ve had some…choice words for the major.

The shaking of the shuttle began to settle down as the dropship punctured through the atmosphere, prompting Tien and the other commandos to stand to their feet. Their two guests knew the itinerary for the next few moments. Drop the major into the water where she could provide overwatch from the water, then make their way to the station and complete whatever hairbrained mission the ministry had thought up this time. It wasn’t that Tien didn’t trust these agents, but when one was tasked with protecting a highly dangerous individual on a mission that remained closed to him, tension was to be expected. He would try his best to push through it, but he did know that the next few hours would be a long experience.

 

[Typhan Berrezz]

:: Location = Rodia, Iskaayuma > Weapons Factory District, CDC Command Post
Objective = Engage with intent to smash
Equipment = Phase I armor, repeating rifle, heavy blaster pistol, commlink, WoL potions, relief gas, grenades
Allies = CIS + friendlies; Enemies = AoC + baddies
Immediate Tags = Haastal Haran + Safira Haran + Tiria Reinhart
Post = 01 ::
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Typhan was Tadpole for however long it took to secure Rodia - because they would for Ryloth if not the Confederacy. Failure was not an option, nor forgetting. The kiffar was ready to fall on his bayonet before either of those unacceptable options came to fruition.

Alternatively, he was for however long it took Damsy Callat to drag her shark self out of the Talay oceans and back to the head of Omega. He wasn't a fan of either the name nor that the Major had divided the squad in anticipation of the impending invasions. The Dauntless were needed on both planets as part of the Confederate Defense Force, and - what's more - Omega specifically. They forged under Luna Terrik 's command before her various military ordainments and under the Siren of Kamino's fins after that. Carrying around that shining of a reputation, solid gold, was back-rending, and Typhan did not say that out of arrogance. Instead, he knew it out of pragmatism, felt it by experience. If the 117th was always first in, last out; Omega was leading them in and herding them out.

Whatever the guppy wanted she got though, as far as Berrezz was concerned. It was the marker of a good second he supposed. What she had wanted on the surface was to address her faction's needs: there was more of a ground game anticipated for Rodia than Talay. Plus, if more kids showed up to play at that watery playground that expected, why, Damsy could likely keep the Agents there more occupied than the rest of her men put together could. So, all things considered, Omega boots on swampy land made much more sense.

Either way though - sense or no - it was easy to pinpoint Damsy's underlying or even unconscious rationale. She didn't just want to swim unhindered by those who weren't squaloid sithspawn; she wanted to avoid War Marshal Terrik. The redhead was holding a grudge, or so assumed Typhan. He didn't blame Damsy though, because he knew if she hadn't had a good reason to deploy to Talay, she would have sucked it up and took the Rodian helm.

Typan straightened from leaning an elbow on the stock of his repeating blaster and agilely flipped a worn, green pazaak card off the top of the main deck situated in between him and Sergeant Fengris on a stacked supply crate. "Fourteen." Cards not only sharpened wit, but built morale, which was what Omega needed. Something had to take their mind off Callat: what was or wasn't happening, what she had or hadn't done while KIA. They were worried about her, but they were also furious with her. Rightfully so, but they had a planet to protect. One battle at a time, and this one waged with blasterfire. To focus, he needed to distract them.

Fengris had eighteen.

Kark, no minuses left.

The vast majority of the Omegas had congregated around two makeshift tables near each other, some kind of game playing out atop each, and far enough away from the Grand Marshal to not overhear the first parts of his conversation. What they did hear were the fireworks, like slug artillery blasts whistling in the distance. Almost. Typhan could just distinguish them. "Hit me—" As a tide of gravity washed jovialness out of the room, so too went Typhan's focus on the game. He turned to gaze out across the capital.

We are here.

"Took you bloody long 'nough," Typhan didn't realize he said aloud.

When he turned back, Fengris had tossed another main card over his existing count. He announced, pride audible, "Eight. Makes twenty-two."

Typhan just grinned as he slung his rifle over his torso. "Saved by the 'show."

 

[Aselia Verd]

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Location: Equator City​

Equipment: Beskar'gam (Armor)​

Armament: Jackal Sniper Rifle, Shiva Knife, Pair of Balmorran Rail Pistols, Lightsaber​

Enemies: AOC​

Allies: CIS​

TAG: Darth Miseria | Saram Kote​

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The arrogance of the Agents of Chaos in declaring their invasion so publicly was that they assumed the Confederacy would not defend, that the Vicelord, her father Darth Metus would do nothing, in fact, he had acted with the total evacuation of Rodia, before they had even arrived in the system it had been completed, the undertaking was a daunting scale but it had been done. On Ryloth and Siskeen they had the ability to kill innocents and to hide behind terrorists as they sought to undo Confederate control of those worlds. They may have succeeded in winning a couple of battles but the lot of them were now persona non grata within Confederate space and the orders that had come down were clear the Agents of Chaos were to be killed on sight these were orders that she would happily execute to avenge the people of Ryloth and Siskeen.​

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Aselia stood on a rooftop on the other side of the street from the casino in Equator City, clad in her new beskar'gam, shed barely had time to put it through its paces before the declaration of an invasion and the subsequent evacuation order had reached her ears. It was a dark shade of black, with red highlights, and cloth accents a far less traditional armor than most but she had decided a departure from tradition might be a good thing in addition to all this she wore a crimson cloak that hung from her shoulders and draped down to back to her waist.​

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from where she stood she had a clear sightline of the entrance to the casino. The young Mandalorian dropped to one knee as she hefted her sniper rifle up to her hands made a couple of quick adjustments to the optics before she brought it up and looked through the sight just in time to watch Darth Miseria walk in unopposed. It was a crazy thing but she would be damned if she would let her do this alone. Likewise, Aselia was not alone either, in the past where she would not associate with other Mandalorians, she found herself in just a situation where she was depending on another. Thanks primarily to the influence of Allya Vi'Dreya she had begun to warm to them as such Saram Kote was here helping to protect a member of her family that alone was worth suspending her suspicions.​

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"I hate waiting"​

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An irritated sigh left her mouth and she stood back up attaching the rifle to her back next to the jetpack, the crimson cloak that decorated her armor was moved to one side that allowed her weapon to rest on the mount without issue. She crossed her arms as she stared over at the other building as if watching for it to explode into an inferno any moment, but then with Miseria there was a good chance of that.​

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[Shamira Karuto]

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Location: Covenstead of Rodia, Rodia
Objective: Enjoy some time outside Caer Badru
Allies: Confederacy and especially the witches
Equipment: Vine whip (spikes on whip tipped with Iscebore oil), Nesmite Tree Seed Pods (6), Pack of Thralda Leaves, Water of Life Potions (2), knapsack full of other goodies
Tags: | Effie | Alluria Ivalice | Viana Morreth | Vytal Noctura | Julra Repraj | Shalita Verd |

Ever since she left her homeworld, it had been hard for Shamira to feel as though she could truly settle down. Ryloth was the first opportunity she had been given in her lifetime to be who she truly was meant to be, and even there it was not the easiest to open up to the other witches in the coven. Over time, it became easier, and she even extended herself to find friends outside those in her immediate vicinity. Ryloth, the Solanaceae, had become her new home, her new family. With her powers becoming more potent and the research behind them more intricate, she had vowed to protect them until she could no longer do so.

After what had happened on that world..she wasn’t completely sure she could accomplish such a promise.

Riding that metal shuttle off the planet felt cold. Colder than usual. They had failed. Failed to protect their home from those that claimed to be bringing peace. Let their sisters die in cold blood. It seemed final that this would be the conclusion to the saga that had been Shamira with the coven. Even as she tried to distract herself with her work, even taking a trip to New Cov to gather some new samples, the dark cloud of defeat hung over the young witch’s head. Vytal new how much it affected her. How much the taking of her new home had cut her to her core.

That was why, even when the opportunity for revenge against these miscreates arose, Shamira wasn’t sure she would join. Her risen had not been nearly as effective as she had hoped, and the feeling of failure wormed it’s way throughout her mind. It had taken many hours of meditation and talks with the Nightmother before she agreed to even come to Rodia with the others. She did not know yet whether she would participate in the upcoming conflict, yet there was work that the redhead could do in the background. And, perhaps, when the time arose, she would join her sisters yet again on the front lines, defending their homes.

For now, she held one of the two seeds not contained by the nightmother. Her botanist mind immediately went to work, turning the seed over in her hand as the weight, color, and style of the seed was noted. While Shamira had been one to discover these seeds and work through the preliminary studies of them, they were still generally untested, and would probably need to be used as a last result. Shamira knew exactly what she would use hers for, but was curious to see what the other two witch’s might come up with.

When asked if there was anything she wished to say, all that was offered in response was a slow shake of the head. There was nothing that Shamira could say at this point that hadn’t been said before. These men and woman, who dared step upon these people’s world with malicious intent, would be turned away. They would not retreat or fail this time. For the time being, Shamira may have lost her home. She wasn’t about to let others endure the same fate.

 

[Rann Thress]

R E P E L​

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LOCATION: Onboard the Hope​

OBJECTIVE: Repel AoC Invaders from Rodia​

WEAPONS: Lightsaber​

ARMOR: Apprentice Armor​

TAGS: Kyyrk l The Monster l Valeria de la Vallée l Acantha Malvern l Eenia Vahn l Isalor Grathan​

ENEMIES: Agents of Chaos and their Allies, Open​

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It was time.

Once more the enemies of the Confederacy have thrown themselves at CIS space, hoping to advance their goal of a chaotic, lawless galaxy. And once more, Rann was among those standing in defiance of these terrorists. He dressed himself in this suit of armor, another gift from Voph, and stood prepared in one of the launch bays of the ship. Crews of men and women ran around, preparing the pods they would use, checking them to make sure they were safe and ready for use. Rann watched them go about their business from the walls of the room. He knew better then to try to help or otherwise interrupt.

His long hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, and his body was encased in the white armor given to him by Voph. The thought crossed his mind of not breaking this one. It was a funny little joke, but Rann couldn't laugh. His breath was shaky, his thoughts panicked. It hadn't been that long since Ryloth. The wounds were still fresh. Permanent, too, in Rann's case. He glanced down at his right arm, completely encompassed by white armor plating and suit. Suddenly, any sort of apprehension or anxiety he had felt was gone.

They'd done that. They were responsible. Now it was his time for payback. Nothing else mattered. Rann saw red. He put his helmet on and started pacing, rage building up inside his mind. Suddenly, Vophs voice came over the intercom:

”Listen up! The Agents will arrive within moments. You all have your assignments, though I regret they are not more thorough. Your end goal remains, even if the location may not. Your ideal target will be the terrorist flagship. Once you are within enemy territory, you are authorized to exterminate with extreme prejudice. Bring the ship down, and any that may reside upon it. Any efforts made in the destruction of landing parties will aid your brothers on the ground, but do not tarry on this. The Agents will likely find a way past the shield gate, at which point the ground teams will sweep through to annihilate them. If they have left the ship, they have left the ship, and they are no longer your concern. In the event that your ship is neutralized, you are authorized to exit by any means necessary and rendezvous with Dauntless Command on the surface, and retask however they see fit. Use caution, as the Confederate fleet will be firing upon the terrorist vessels, and will not discriminate between a ship carrying friendlies. Move quick, move fast, and most importantly, move to kill. For Ryloth!”

A very moving speech. Very impactful. Rann noticed a few cheers, and the general mood of the room picked up. A few "For Ryloth" chants were picked up throughout. It was effective, intoxicating. If Rann wasn't so angry, he'd be hopeful. But for him, this wasn't for Ryloth. This wasn't even for the Confederacy.
He was here on behalf of the Confederacy, sure, and he believed in what they were trying to do. But at this moment, something in Rann relished this chance for revenge. He was going to let go, enjoy himself as best he could. He would never allow himself to be so embarrassed again.
Seemingly as soon as the broadcast ended, the alarms came on. Rann breathed a heavy sigh and moved forward into his boarding pod. It was time. They had come again. He entered his pod, the door closing tight. Here he would wait for the launch order. Like Voph said, Rann knew his orders. He would follow him to the letter, but this time he wasn't going to wait for the fight to come to him. He would seek it. And this time, Rann wouldn't offer quarter. Rann wouldn't hesitate. Rann wouldn't be sympathetic. Rann would kill. Every. Last. One.

Rip and tear. Until it was done.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

Location: Rodia
Objective: Kill
Gear: Morph Armor, Wolfsbane
CIS: Redd | open
AoC: Scherezade deWinter | Larentia

Gerwald had volunteered to ensure the residents of Rodia’s capital city were evacuated. When the order was given to evacuate, work began immediately on the largest city Rodia offered. It was not ideal, but it was necessary. They had been too late on Ryloth, they had learned their lessons. This time when the Agents of Chaos announced their plans, the Confederacy moved into swift action. ​

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They would Never Forget.​

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While there were those still mourning the lives lost on Ryloth, there was one thing which continued to eat away at the massive Lupine. His sister Alwine Daye was responsible for the violence on Olanet. A Viceroy and the innocent wife of another Viceroy were both lying in bacta tanks, a comatose state being their reward for attempting peaceful negotiations. The summer wolf knew the violence his sister was capable of, but he had never witnessed her bearing it down upon the innocent. Had Scherezade and Madalena brainwashed her? Had they managed to break what sense the blonde did have. ​

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Eyes turned to the lupine that was now with him. A grin tugged at his lips. This one had been more faithful to him in as many months as any of his siblings had ever been. He knew the moniker of sister was not something she wanted from him per se, but Gerwald had determined he needed friends, he needed family. Everyone had left him, and until he could deal with the reasons he seemed to be constantly abandoned, Gerwald sought to create the very thing he had lost.​

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A pack. ​

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They were on patrol when it happened. The sound of fireworks blasting off announcing the arrival of the Agents of Chaos. It was odd. With as many days they had spent evacuating the capital, no one had seemed to enter, and the buildings had all but appeared to be empty. Still, they had come, and the flair was nothing more than something Gerwald would expect of Scherezade or Madalena herself. Neither of them had ever been subtle.​

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It had not been long that Madalena’s voice could be heard. Another smirk pulled at Gerwald’s lips. If only she knew the only people she was talking to were military assets and local militia which had insisted on fighting alongside the Confederacy. Who were they to say no? Each planet was sovereign under Confederate law, and if their militia wished to fight Gerwald was certainly not going to turn them away.​

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BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!​

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The sound came from out of nowhere, and Gerwald had been close. Once the ringing in his ears stopped, he looked to Redd and motioned with his head in the direction of the explosion. Running seemed a good option until they came close enough to assess the scene. Peering from behind a building, Gerwald watched on as Larentia pulled Scherezade deWinter to safety. ​

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Gerwald took in a deep breath. This was not the fight he wanted, and this was not who he wanted to face off with, but here he was. Rushing into view, Gerwald would not let the attack up. Yes they could speed out of the way of the blast, but debris and rubble would be used against them. A flick of his hand caused the debris to gather into a wall, a barrier in the direction they were moving. The lupine had no question whether it would be temporary or whether they would find a way around it. Gerwald simply meant to slow them down, to keep them from making a full escape.​

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“Scherezade… you… with her. Stop.”​

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Spoiler: Edits"

Edited in a graphic

 

[Sasmay Cull]

WIELDING: 4 Whimsy Knives, 1 Nastirci Combat Knife, 2 HG-88 ‘Big Iron’ Hand Cannons -(One has Glitter Bullets), 1 R12 LMG, (6) of Chaos Gas grenades, (6) of Elemental Grenades, Pouch of Vita Stones, A couple candles in separate pouches
WEARING: Phase II Haywire Armor with no helmet on top of UL-13 Corporis Skin Suit with helmet
LOCATION: Iskaayuma, Seeking Targets
ALLIES: Agents of Chaos, Strike Team Bluebell
TAGS: Domino Ivixa Nera'kas

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Sasmay had snuck into the city with the help of Domino, the heavy weapon lady having for the most part hidden herself in the apartment for the time until the invasion had begun. The fireworks had gone off, and the helmet had gone on. Her hud flared to life, marking the three of them out and updated her internal map. She ran a hand over the pouches behind the armor plating of her armor. Trying to remember where the slug rounds were before moving to another and checking the Cluster rounds before a final pat for the pointy rounds in their own separate plate fashioned holsters.

Madelena's taunt played, and the woman shook her head.

Her face turned to regard the Twi'lek, hand running over the other plates where the disruptor ammunition was hidden and kept. The magazines of power cells hiding between the pair of hand cannons she had in the custom back holsters. The knives were kept in custom holsters, easy to reach and easy enough to slash from the place they could be grabbed from. The grenades were strung tightly together, and a pair of pouches tied on beside a set of plates on each thigh. She wouldn't be able to sit properly, having to move the pouches up, but a little discomfort for the price of advantage was worth it.

Then the broadcast happened, and Sasmay could not help but laugh a little at the whole display.

"When did we support those twi'leks? I don't remember reading about that part. I thought we had hit the...alter, thing." Sasmay chuckled, struggling to remember the word in that moment. The mission report had been thin with details, but locations were a pretty clear thing in it. "And we already have their monster, Muad. This just seems like a weird exhibition kink someone needs to work on. All for you do you, but chit." The woman shook her head, expression bland as she watched it further until it focused on the still.

"So, what? They tote us about as the aggressors instead of the group of home grown's in their own backyard to make themselves feel better? And mentioning bombs..." She hissed, picking up the R12 LMG. "Awful nice of them to ignore one of their own doing something they openly condemn as a terrorist act. But I suppose when it benefits you, it's just business as usual huh?" She rolled her eyes, tucking the bipod underneath the barrel and looking over the city.

Her head bobbed a second, the seals in her suit checked with it's internal systems before turning to the twi'lek woman with a whistle. "They should release a universe wide evacuation plan. For how many people were here, they sure made quick work of it. Must have stuffed people on the boats like animals. Wonder if they just replaced the droids in those droid ship thingies." She huffed, looking to the woman again. "You know what I am talking about? The one with the door...and that arm thing comes out? No? I think I saw it on the holonet somewhere. Might be something different"

The former slave woman shook her head then. She had been freed by the Agents. And she had given the favor back in return by supporting them. She kept herself clear of anyone that had kept their slave when coming to the Scintilla, feeling a dark bubbling rage upon seeing it before her. But she enjoyed that they did not make slaves no matter where they went. In fact, Sasmay had taken part in the freeing of both Wookie, and Robot slaves on Kessel.

But then again, who fact checked their stuff anyway? Or cared to.

Fighting a battle against ignorance was noble of the group attempting sway opinions of the populace. After all, it was easy enough to enslave a being when you brainwashed them with constant flood of information that only stemmed positives about your cause and erased their own history of independence. But that wasn't enslaving someone was it? Not when they willingly put their hand in the cuff and locked it themselves.

She stopped her inner thoughts, here for something else entirely. "Ready, I suppose."