Invasion Heirs to the Empire | NIO invasion of TSE held Serenno and Ord Radama

[Laertia Io]

Laertia kind of chuckled as he condemned her.

"You're a bunch of murderers also." she spat. "And what victories can be truly had against such a pestilence as The Bryn'adul when those like you would rather kill the Sith first, or fight them both at the same time? You ain't here to save anybody, Man of Iron. You're just here for a throne, like all Usurpers. The Bryn'adul gather in strength while you take your revenge upon the Sith. A united Galaxy is necessary to crush them, but you must have your justice first, feth everybody else. To hell with your justice. I care not for it. Wasted the best years of my life shredding Sith myself, only to discover it had become a chore rather than a sacred duty. They're still here. Like they will be even if you completely destroy their empire."

Something deadly shorted out in her brain as he advised her to kill herself (Because she actually HAD attempted it at one point), and she struck. The split second of over-aggression cost her as he deflected the blade and she was barely able to shield herself with the Force from the subsequent shockwave that hit, blasting her backward, shredding off parts of her armor at the upper shoulder and stomach, causing lascerations that she barely felt but her armor began repairing. Her visor broke, revealing her bronze and green organic eye, mutated by the teachings of Darth Themis.

Laertia rose, pushing out the rage that threatened to engulf her. She forced it away, taking that icy clarity and determination as she rose, wounds barely fully sealed.

The teachings of a Light Side Sith demanded harsh sacrifice. Laertia let what had been taking shape within her slowly over months of fighting provide the icy will to channel her power, twisting the Light Side inside of her by Force in an extremely unnatural manner, that caused every Dark Witch near her to recoil in open terror as she teleported right in front of Rurik, quaking with a terrible, unnatural twisted Light Side presence. With a flick of her hand, the ceiling of the path behind her was violently shattered, caving in the path. The whole Palace shuddered violently at the release of power from the thing in her that was not yet called Darth Xiphos, but would be, someday...

(Darth Xiphos Theme Song Power Up)

(Theme: "You Know My Name." by Chris Cornell)

Not-Yet Xiphos was silent for a few moments before she attacked.

Before she attacked, before the moment came when her deadly blades would be screaming for his iron skin as she attacked him from all angles with her blades, even as her telekinesis escaped the confines of her body to crack and destabilize the floor and parts of the ceiling to hurl themselves at his friends, leveraging her Extreme strength to try and destroy his lightsaber defense and hopefully hack him to pieces, attacking as fast as she could at the same time in a mix of Form One and Djem So, moves fluid and unpredictable while hitting VERY hard, she uttered a single sentence:

"LET'S GO, MOTHERFETHER!"

 

[Halketh]

L O C K D O W N
V U L T U R E
THE 9TH CARLACI CORPS
THE TUNNELS,
SERENNO
[ x ]
_

"We simply light the match- human instinct will do the rest."​

A simple phrase, it was, even in its barest forms- yet it was enamoring all the same. The implication of such wild ferocity lay insidiously in the base of every man's skull, driven by his emotions and those fickle little things that cost hours of sleep in the night. None wanted to be left behind. None wanted to be forgotten. Such seemed to be the greater nature of this war in the blind man's eyes- it was a struggle after the right to be remembered. Curious, he was then, to be a catalyst. It was an interesting thing, being on this side of history when so much of his life felt as if it should have lead him to the opposite.

A man of Darkness, he had always seen himself as, though his motivations for such were a layered, overtly complex creation of his own design that often wove and twisted backward on themselves; confusing and unnecessary. There was some sense of morality to it all if madness could possess such a thing. He had been given a new direction when he stepped beneath the Iron Sun to bask in its rays, however long ago that felt and now, he found himself out of his selfish desires and with a mind for his people- his new people.

Unimpeded, his forces had reached their goal, though the Warlord found it increasingly suspicious that none had even bothered to stop him, he would proceed with his plan. "Set the charges." His voice broke the muffled rhythm of their procession, earning a few affirmative growls in garbled response that he alone could find sense in. The armored undead split from the rank and file, branching off down the various tunnels and paths as the thunder bellowed overhead- unknowing of the dangers lurking beneath their feet.

They were well behind the Sith Imperial lines now, behind where those defending forces had entrenched themselves to stave off the warmachine of the New Imperials. Had they taken action to sweep and run interference through the tunnels, perhaps they would have found greater success. The Force revealed much to The Vulture in these moments, as his soldiers did their duty and secured the thermal charges to their respective walls. He saw the Sith rampaging distantly with their auras of vantablack and crimson red. He could feel the streaking blaster fire pricking his skin into gooseflesh beneath his clothing. This was going to be rather delicious, wasn't it?

He could taste the confusion and panic already.

The Vulture drew a breath, tilting his chin towards the carved ceiling, and expelled the same as quietly as he had drawn it. This would be his final moment of peace on this world for the time- it was to be savored. From within his sleeve, he produced the compact detonator and weighed it in his palm. "With me now, come along." A quick turn cast his weight about and sent him into a light jog back in the direction they had marched from, creating distance between himself, his forces, and the greater blast radius. The ravenous undead followed rapidly on his heels, rushing out of danger at his behest. He couldn't afford to lose any of them to such carelessness. Every pair of hands was necessary.

<"This is Vulture-"> he opened his communication line with the New Imperial ground forces above, all were already aware of his plan, it was just a matter of the timing- <"-it's time. Avoid the designated coordinates on your HUDs and prepare to rush the line. You have fifteen seconds. Over.">

The seconds passed him by, each tallied by thought.

Quickly, Halketh compressed the trigger on the detonator he clutched and tossed it to the ground by his boots, immediately raising both hands to create a steely Force Barrier to shield the formation behind him from the heat and fire.​

BOOOM!​

The thunder would have been ear-shattering, were it not for his barrier.

The earth heaved with the force of the toll, shaking the city above as the rumbling grew louder and louder, building up into a crashing crescendo of destruction.

One moment those Sith Imperial ground forces stood on solid ground and in the very next, the earth caved, swallowing the defensive line with greedy tongues of flame. A sinkhole formed rapidly as the weight around the edges of the hole grew too much to bear, one that widened with every passing heartbeat. Halketh shoved his weight forward and cast the remaining fire from his path, sweeping his hands to guide it with dancing motions into the air above. A torrent of liquid flame swirled from the depths of the massive sinkhole, incinerating and engulfing anything and anyone caught even remotely close to it. Black smoke poured into the skies above, cast out as inky, hissing tendrils of scorching heat that danced and celebrated on the disrupted wind in its journey to choke out the sunlight.

And from the smoldering devastation, the insurmountable forces of the howling damned charged forth from the pits of this new hell.

The underworld; brought to bear and set upon the greater collective of defenders of Carannia.

Slugthrower choruses deafened the unwary and unaware, slaughtering those who attempted to retreat from the growing pit Halketh had opened up. Buildings crumbled and fell into the void of land, crashing to obstruct the tunnels beneath through the opening and choke them with blinding dust and smoke. It was chaos. Beautiful, beautiful chaos its artist appreciated with every trembling fiber of his being.

With his undead rapidly ripping the Sith Imperials apart, The Vulture stepped from the yawning mouth of hell, hands weaving and waving at his sides as he stoked the churning flames higher and commanded them, wielding them as infernal whips to beat and splinter the defensive line apart.

<"We've broken their ranks, come forth and crush them!"> He mirthfully jeered into his helmet, relaying the news across the communication channel.​

OOC NOTE/TL;DR : Sneak attack! A massive chain of sub-terranean explosions has rocked the city, forcing the ground to weaken and collapse beneath those located closeby. A sinkhole has been opened up beneath those fighting the hardest, swallowing up a great number of Sith Imperial defenders, buildings, and armor in the process. Fire is spewing from this hole, currently being used by Lord Halketh to decimate the defensive line. Undead marked as NIO stormtroopers in the proper armor are now running rampantly through the ranks, wielding an array of weapons to crush their opposition.​

ALLIES | DEAD MEN | NIO | GA | DECEASED Erskine Barran Willan Tal DT-0800 Konrad Bolter Tulan Kor Djorn Bline Tavius Muuaji Enedina Tal Maynard Treicolt Loske Treicolt (?) Vexander Graves Viers Connory
ENEMIES | TSE | CIS | OPEN FOR DIRECT ENGAGEMENT | Darth Strosius UX-0626 Kimora Min Laertia Io Syd Celsius Alina Tremiru

 

[Loske Treicolt]

WE CEASELESSLY REVOLT
OUTER RIM | SERENNO | CARANNIA
WHETHER YOU LOVE WHAT YOU LOVE
OR LIVE IN DIVIDED CEASELESS REVOLT AGAINST IT
WHAT YOU LOVE IS YOUR FATE
ARMY OF ME

​

Shursia’s touch curled around his neck. Loose at first, letting the imagery unfold and infect his mind. The darkening of his countenance revealed the accuracy of their spell cast and his own mind taking it to the next level.

It should have been the loneliest moment of her life; watching her world of could haves and feeling it slain without having the power to do anything about it. Just stare blankly.

The flare of his emotions was brilliant, and instead of turning away to shield herself from the blinding burst, she was drawn to it. Synapses fired like little lightning bugs against the darkest night, illuminating intersections in the lattices and intricate patterns of their mutual mind-expanding the sharedness beyond two to three for a nano measurement of time.

​

Maynard’s fears were deep, painful and resonating. So deep that they could not have been constructed in isolation, they were entirely dependent on the host. While the manifestation of his horror wasn’t mutual, the outcome was. The worst thing about love was that she remembered it. She wanted to ceaselessly revolt, avoid the pain, but in the folds of the connection, buried in the crevices a situational scare flashed and the woman within curled in hurt. It was vague, but it was mirrored in the ghostly empty-handedness of a bloodied loss, holding that most sacred and that most strived for in total helplessness and responsibility. Everything they’d built and promised together in their memories of the past made the future tenuous and terrifying. That sameness was like a harpoon, hunting through the shattered layers of her psyche and deepening its pierce through an intangible similarity in darkness. A likeness that hadn’t existed before, though malformed as it was.

And that likeness recoiled when the warning spike jolted their reaction. The beam of light was unannounced and surprising. Shursia had sensed darkness about him, deep-rooted in the need for vengeance and that culmination of light seemed as if it had been impossible. If it weren’t for that weapon, he’d be exhausted by now. Their clouded, hateful eyes narrowed in fury at the reduced impossibility.

What would Taeli do in this instance? What had her training said? No, that wasn’t fair. Lady Raaf had spent long enough studying the forces of Light that she’d be able to refute it. Perhaps a more realistic was what would Eldaah do–– no. They were stronger than both. They were here for their own retribution; not anyone else’s. And all this calculation cost them precious time, the searing gleam tunnelled at their side –– they’d only jolted to the side to avoid –– and seared at the external inky coating. It recoiled with an angry hiss before its totality started to flicker and atomize. Where she had been, she no longer was –– shrinking away to the shadows and the unique ability of the symbiote. To just...disappear. Vanish into the thinness of nothing.

It was a fierce war between her heart and mind, and as exhausted as the spectral soldier was, she tried. She tried so hard to distance herself, carve out as a separate entity enough to influence the interaction just a little. The stratagem was subtle, desperate and almost apologist for having to recycle the greatest fear into a request. Through that waning tether, his horrid crimson blade faded to cobalt, and the location of the gesture moved somewhere more vital. It was all she could do to manipulate the fear, stroking a plea of trust me through.

He couldn’t do this on physical advantage alone. The symbiote and Loske were so entwined that they made Shursia, even with Aaran Tafo ’s attempts to separate their biology. It was mental, shared sentience and co-dependence. Carving his way through would leave the woman inside vacant with all the darkness she couldn’t harness on her own. It would destroy her.

When they reappeared, rebuilt from the void and spat out by The Force once more, their sinews were as wild as their eyes. They lunged, angrily, once more at Maynard with talons out to slam him to the ground. The ground trembled by the coming whispers of a necromancer elsewhere.

In her hatred, Shursia showed a card.

“You’re going to get her killed.”

It was cruel the way the demon dug into the vaults of their mind, picking and choosing glimpses of ill-fitting context to stoke the mental flames of fear and regret. Weaken the resolve however they could. He’d die today, and with him, all those memories that had an ounce of hope wrapped up with them.

“We’ve freed her from that trapped life.” Fear flooded the space, and it slipped back into the voice that dipped in shades of honey and hostility.

“I don’t want to be here anymore.”

We can't leave

"We gotta finish this fight, even if its just the two of us in the end, I don't care. "

But those ephemeral moments shared was another opportunity to stretch along that mutual tether again, and try to reinforce it. May. The syllable was instant, desperate, and hopelessly hushed against the noise of the illusions. She clung to that fragile link with everything. Carefully choosing her words. Don’t let go.

It was a supplication that covered several instances: Don’t let go of me. Don’t let go to the darkness. Don’t let go of that sabre.

“You know what a wolf does when it’s caught in a trap?” The voice of many layers returned, slowly tightening their touch.

Those wild tendrils repaired over the exposed bit of human beneath, interlacing rapidly in tessellated patterns to conceal anything human once more. Its talons sought the throat again, to constrict the airway and ability to reconcile or rationalize thoughts. If they could reduce him back to a state of panic, he’d be much easier to manipulate.

“It will chew its own paw off to escape.”

More from their shoulders extended through the space to wrap against the wrist of the Knight and force it backward. The wrist that controlled the threatening sword.

“You are the paw.”


ALLIES |
ENEMIES | GA | NJO | NIO | Maynard Treicolt | CLOSED

 

[The Amalgam]

The Amalgam could only hold back her laughter as to how hilariously uninformed DECEASED Erskine Barran actually was. The Nuetralizers had been right. He really WAS too amusing to kill. Obviously one of Laertia's daughters had been chatty with him for reasons of their own.

She had humored him, walking with him to wear the Amalgam and DT-0800 were duking it out. She couldn't be sensed, or even seen by Syd. Syd didn't even know Laertia and the Amalgam were working together. She found it easier to just let Erskine keep assuming that they were all in on it, rather than information being comparmentalized where Syd was concerned.

Syd couldn't sense ANY of the Brain Demon cultists in fact. Not with the enchantments The Amalgam and her Witches had thrown on themselves. She wouldn't even be able to see them unless they attacked.

At Barran's claim that the Nuetralizers would soon become redundant, The Amalgam chuckled as she listened.

"Oh, I'm perfectly aware the Nuetralizers want me dead, Lord Commander. And if you think issuing fancy new vibroswords is gonna solve the Nuetralizer problem my associates are giving you...well, you obviously haven't been paying attention. You think the Nuetralizers are dangerous because of their armor and heavy weaponry? No. Those are after thoughts. The real weapon is the most powerful weapon you and I have: The Mind. The Nuetralizers have been embued with human like intelligence. Capable of learning from every encounter. Y'see, you can give them the best weapons, the best armor, but none of it matters if its all they got going for them. So their designer threw out the rulebook on limiting their intelligence, threw out the rules on most modern Droid Armies. Haven't you noticed they've been improving in every battle, killing more and more of your men, and losing less and less of their own per engagement? No vibrosword is going to save you, no matter how well forged or crafted. They'll come up with countermeasures after the initial exposure. The Vibrosword is the one that shall become redundant. Technically, they aren't even really all that advanced you know...nearly everything in them works on older, more proven technology, just combined together in a more comprehensive fashion. But their learning capacity and problem solving is the real threat they pose, Barran..." she explained, watching as DT gripped Syd and hurled her through a wall with a teleport smash.

The flames of the Force Spawn turned red all around as Syd rose up, jaw dislocated, one arm broken, but the inferno around her causing her to heal rapidly. Her flesh shuddered and bubbled underneath her Blue and Gold armored Catsuit as she summoned fiery red sword constructs that flung themselves at the HRD. One missed, but the other hit the droid in the chest and exploded violently, taking a chunk off the front torso plating and exposing his internals partly. She began raining fireballs down on the droid, upping the temperature so much that even at the distance they were at from the fight, they were forced to move back still as Syd flew around through the air, never staying in one place while hurling endless heavy red fireballs his direction, the sheer scorching heat they produced capable of threatening and overwhelming any countermeasures the droid had, and the flames were only getting hotter.

"While, on the other hand, just look at your droids. Slow. Predictable. Lumbering. If it hadn't been for the Bombardment at Ziost, this particular machine here would be scrap. How many millions did you all sink into making him with his fancy teleport tech and you can't even put me down permanently. Meanwhile, the one who developed these Terminator Expies sinks about a quarter of the cost to make the Nuetralizers and they gut your vaunted Imperial Knights handily without fancy teleport tech. That's how fethed the NIO is, even one of these Droids, the best they can do is delay someone like me. Not stop them. I do not fear your swords, Lord Commander. Nor do I fear your other weapons. Send your Paladins or whatever. As for the fact that the Droid faces happen to be that of a former student I was forced to torture and execute...ah well. Its nice to see her face again. The designer is a former student of mine as well. Hates me utterly but I have my uses to them. And they to me..." The Amalgam sighed wistfully, cackling a bit as she felt the death Halketh inflicted.

"Oh, my, Bravo, you saucy, saucy lads..." The Amalgam grinned as the Nuetralizers around her started firing at Zombies. The Nuetralizers fething loved killing Zombies. Even with as many of them heavily damaged in the combat zone and pulling themselves out of the sink holes, they eagerly ripped to shreds any Zombie they spotted.

The Amalgam got out a comlink.

"Do it. Destroy the city." She ordered.

There was a whine in the air, dark and unholy. Spells The Amalgam and her Witches cast days in advance were at last triggered.

Terrible red lightning bolts rained from the sky down on the destroyed areas as a Dark Side storm of fierce, unprecedented magnitude in Serenno's history flashed down on hoardes of zombies.

The Amalgam really was ruthless enough and evil enough to destroy the city.

The whine was not the lightning.

Hoardes of TIE Bombers descended, hundreds. Thousands. Dozens and dozens were shot down but they kept coming,

They began a vicious saturation bombing of the NIO with Void-007 Seismic Charges and bunker busting bombs. Buildings began to be destroyed utterly by a combination of the Void-007's and the heavy red lightning bolts, crashing down violently on the NIO below. The city of Carrannia began to be leveled all around them...

She shivered in delight, feeling the massive death as the city started to die.

"Such a wonderful feeling, pain and despair." She mused, watching already collapsed streets collapse further.

"This still isn't as Bad as what The Behemoth did to preserve Sith Dominance ...but its up there!" She joked...

Willan Tal

Konrad Bolter

Enedina Tal

 

[Tavius Muuaji]

Carannia | COMPFORCE
Sinestra

Tavius snorted as he shook his head.

More times than not, Tavius had offered. But Arno was more than happy enough to pay on their time off. There was little else to do anyway. Neither of them had families anymore, or rather, not ones that they wanted to return to.

For a moment, Tavius thought of them. Of what those in the Silver Concord had taken from him years ago. Family, friends. The people that he cherished, gone. It was what had radicalized him in the first place to become a Sith legionnaire, before the days of the New Imperial Order. It had only been a few years though, that that had lasted.

The Jedi may have made a mistake then. If Orbital Bombardment could be considered one. But when he had seen worlds burn by the hands of the Sith... He had known that his time in their ranks was limited. It was only right that he too was a traitor that followed in the wake of the Sovereign Imperator.

The ramp began to open. The troop transport was spacious, it could fit dozens of stormtroopers within.

Instead of a host of phantom soldiers disembarking, it was simply one, as Sinestra leapt out first. Some metries in the air, the rope he used to descend was long enough to hit the roof of the building. A shop that the tank lines of the Hells Hammers and the Galidraani Volunteers hadn't reached yet. "Mm," he answered in regards to the repeat to the debrief.

That's usually what I do, isn't it?

"Mind on the mission."

"Alwa- What's going on?" Tavius questioned just as he linked his belt to the cable. Around them, in the city, streaks of scarlet, sporadically striking, descended from the skies. Too random to be a concise effort in destroying the advancing assault of Imperials. Nearby screams as even buildings were struck. "I'm outta he-eah!" The dropship lurched, struck by a bolt of the ritualistic magic.

He sent a hand reaching for a handle bar, too far. His skill in the Force too little to save himself as he felt the firmness of the ramp beneath his feet disappear. And when he felt nothing, all he could do was fall, earthbound, to an early grave that was undoubtedly going to send him straight to hell.

 

[Sinestra]

Carannia | COMPFORCE | Objective II
Tavius Muuaji
DECEASED Erskine Barran

Arno was rappelling down the rope when he nearly lost his grip. He snapped his upwards at the commotion - a supernatural storm of red lightning conjured striking ruthlessly, destroying everything it hit and a school of bombers darkening the skies and turning the city into fire and ash. And Tavius wobbling on the ramp of their rattling dropship struggling for something to hold on to.

He failed.

His comrade stumbled over from the dropship's hatch to an untimely death. The cold-blooded killer instinctively wrapped his hand around the rope, dashed over the edge of the rooftop and lept a leap of faith. Just centimeters apart separating his grip with Tavius' hand. He felt his heart stop, a cold shiver running down his spine. Not enoug-. Steeled gauntled found purchase and Tavius' weight pulled them both down; the rope swung and sent them crashing through the windows of the adjacent building.

The duo tumbled and rolled inside what seemed to be a small warehouse. Bones and joints cracked even if the armor cushioned the heavy fall. A large wall of canisters bringing the two into a crashing halt. Arno's ears rang and he blinked fast to brush away the blurred vision. Muscles ached, an old waist injury flaring back to life. He curled his nose at the smell of tibanna gas suffocating the air and looked around. A fuel depot.

"Not the place we want to be right now." Arno stated as the sounds of death and destruction from the Sith's mystic ritual of lightning and saturated bombardment echoed from outside. He rose up on his feet, ignoring the pain, then offered Tavius a hand. "The Sith are at work again."

He'd knifed in the mouth many Sith during his tenure within the One Sith. So much Sith that his fame and reputation far exceeded his actual skills. Hardly anyone knew he had actually murdered them all in their sleep. Not one was ever awake.

There was no other way he could kill a God.

They would've chopped him to pieces and fried him to death, otherwise.

Arno was, after all, just a mortal in the end.

The commando tapped his comms but got only static back. The fall must've broken the gadget to pieces.

 

[Hans Rennagen]

Location: Estate of House Terassi
Objective IV: Ensure the surrender of House Terassi the Eternal Empress
Writing with Ingrid L'lerim

​

“Yes, the Bryn’adul took something from me. My people. But my family, my throne, and my world were all taken long before that by the Sith Empire.” Hans could tell they were both resigning. There was no more heat to the discussion, just an uncomfortable shared knowledge that the galaxy was in a state which seemed almost irredeemable. But Ingrid seemed hopeful, and the war against the Sith had made Hans have hope once again after many years of believing he was better off dead.

“Perhaps you’re right that the New Order won’t last long. I hope you’re wrong, but if you aren't… then I hope the imperials can go their separate ways knowing they did a service to the galaxy.”

Hans heard the beep of his commlink go off, and the small red light flashed to indicate an urgent transmission. He tuned in to hear what was happening.

“...all New Impe…ces! Sith…. begun a bombing cam… Carannia....” the choppy transmission cut out. Hans searched his feelings, only to confirm what he thought was true. He could feel the souls screaming in agony across the planet as the bombs fell. It was faint, but the feeling was present. He had no doubt that Ingrid could feel it too. The Sith were desperate, resorting to the same scorched-earth tactics they had unleashed on the Braxant and now Ziost as well. The New Imperials offered no quarter, and the Sith offered no ground.

Hans looked to Ingrid wearily. He took the code cylinder from his fellow knight returning from the shuttle. He silently handed it to the Terassi guard captain and gave him a nod. The captain honoured him with a curt nod back

“We should leave. Maybe we can continue this discussion on the way to Coruscant.”

He pulled a set of stun cuffs off his belt and gestured to her hands. “If you’d please…”

 

[Arcturus Tal]

Ships: 3 Cuirassier-class cruisers, 3 Dragoon-class frigates, 3 Inceptus-class assault ships

Part One: A Brief Command​

The crew of the Prodigal Sun was scrambling about, preparing for their next move. Quintus had been able to keep them together in the wake of Arcturus' collapse, and managed to get them organized in the chaos of the moment. They had just begun to engage the Sith fleet, when their primary target made a microjump.

"Oh for feth's sake, we're going to have to alter our plan."

Quintus was aware of the slippery nature of the Sith. He had seen them slither like snakes through space at Ziost, and at this point, nothing surprised him. He noted the new location of their target, and began making preparations for the attack.

"Move our assault ships alongside the enemy vessel. Have them deploy fighters as they make the pass. I want as many of our fighters on top of them with as small of a gap as possible. Our cruisers will provide support by drawing enemy fire. Have our frigates stay right on us, and get their fighters in the air."

He hadn't had command of more than one ship since he had reunited with Arcturus. That day was his first defeat at the hands of the Sith, and he wasn't looking to have a second. Despite his determination, however, Quintus couldn't help but to feel an emptiness on the bridge...

They needed Arcturus.

Part Two: A Rude Awakening​

The sick bay was busy with medical droids and staff preparing for the inevitable filling of their beds. Arcturus found himself waking amid the commotion from a deep, feverish sleep. He snapped up from the bed, eyes darting around as he tried to make sense of how he got there. A medic rushed to his side, trying to calm him. He pushed the medic away as he sat up on the side of the bed.

"Sir, please, you need to rest."

Arcturus continued to push the man away.

"What... what happened? Why am I in sick bay?"

"You collapsed on the bridge, sir. We thought we were going to lose you for a moment. Luckily, we administered the antidote in time."

Arcturus was puzzled by the statement.

"What do you mean, the antidote?"

"We couldn't find the source of your collapse, so we ran some scans, and well... you were poisoned, sir."

Arcturus instantly snapped back into the moment. His face grew grim, and his words sharp.

"Get me a comlink, now."

The medic grabbed a comlink from a nearby counter and quickly handed it to the commodore.

"Security Director Trask, this is Tal. I want you to lock down all hanger bays immediately. All security teams are to be at high alert. We have a spy in our midst."

Arcturus leapt up from the bed, making his way to the door to sick bay. The medic grabbed his shoulder as he was leaving the room.

"Sir, you really need to rest. It'll take time before you're fully healed."

He brushed the medic's hand away as he opened the door.

"I'll have time to rest when the day is done. Right now, I have a spy to catch, and a battle to win."

Naier Rambeigh Gallius Orcana RIP Carlyle Rausgeber Gunnar Madine Fiolette Fortan Jaeger Harrsk Zeradias Mant Willan Tal Enedina Tal DECEASED Erskine Barran​

 

[Viers Connory]

//: Objective 2 //:
//: Alina Tremiru //:

​

Alina seemed to not appreciate the time and effort Viers had taken to prepare her entrance the next time they met. It was a small glimpse of reality for the Padawan, one that she knew she should have held on to. The armored woman charged, modulated voice echoing, and Viers suddenly was caught up with the cloak. Stepping back, the Padawan settled her footing. Holding her ground, Viers took Alina’s charge and at the last moment threw the cape in front of her.

The momentum of the tossed fabric allowed the lithe Padawan to disengage quickly and sidestep the powerful lunge. Alina was faster, much faster than she had been before. What had changed? There wasn’t enough time for Viers to think about the aspects of a young Sithling’s training; she needed to respond. As she stepped aside, one of the twin blades ignited. Cutting through the air, the bright yellow ion blade hummed, announcing its presence.

A force-fueled strike aimed to sweep across Alina’s arm while Viers moved. “A helmet isn’t going to scare me, vampire.” she quipped in a mocking tone.

It seemed after the headbutting and butt-kicking the monster had received before forced her to rethink her strategy. Viers couldn’t help feeling a sense of satisfaction, seeing her opponent making changes to better suit their fight. For as much as the Padawan was proud, she also felt relieved. At least the fangs were tucked way behind plating, which meant if Alina wanted to take a bite - she’d have to remove the helmet.​

 

[Dorin Nalju]

C O U N T
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
SERENNO

Deeper in the blood and Darkness they matched forward, whatever fear that lingered in their hearts was replaced by a rush of adrenaline. There was no time to think thoroughly, only react and act upon instinct. Dorin could only think about advancing through the ranks, and defending himself from flurries of fo blaster fire that he evaded or deflected with his lightsaber. The Darkness that reeked the palace grew stronger and stronger around him with the more they pushed. Impossible to not ignore as he sought for its heart.

"Dorin. Secure the Palace, any Sith you see - put them to the sword. Any Confederate daring to assist them - put them to the sword. Any of the noble glad hands who had sold this realm to the Darkness...put them in chains. There is no satisfaction in slaying them, for they are nothing at all...and they will face the toll of their misdeeds."

“As you wish, Lord Executor,” answering swiftly to Rurik’s command as the Man of Iron would continue his onslaught against those daring to obstruct his path.

Put them all to the sword

Gladly. He would obey Rurik’s orders to the last letter, but he would slightly disobey one part of those orders. He would give death to all those deserving and undeserving; the people of Serenno had grown complacent and weak in accepting the Sith as their overlords with puppets and pretenders to govern Serenno. A proud people only to be a far cry to that old glory. The Dark Side that clouded over the palace only boasted his anger, his hatred to make him lust for bloodshed even if it was unwarranted.

“Tiadu! Follow me, we’ll take the Palace by any means necessary. We’ll kill all those that refute us.”

He would leave no survivors within the halls of the Palace. Let the blood and fire create a new Serenno, one that was molded by steel and nothing less than that. Just as when the grand city of Carannia suffered unjustly from utter destruction from bombings. A traffic of reports from the bombings barraged the comlink, the damage was merciless from what he could imagine.

Good.

Innocents died, but that was a strong word to apply on Serenno. They accepted and bowed to the Sith, accepting a false peace and lies to rule them. Their identity was stripped and disfigured upon that day when they fell content to tyranny. They would burn for their sins, and the cruel fire would not atone them.

Taking point he marched with strength and resolution, making way inside the palace where more Sith-Imperials and Loyalists expected their arrival.

“No survivors, we’ll make a trail with their blood to the throne.”

ALLIES | NIO | Lucien Dooku | Rurik Fel | Adron Malvern | Kainan | Jin Kyrel | Dorian Sicarrio | Lilith Dooku | Jerec Asyr | Aaran Tafo | Tiadu
ENEMIES | TSE | Beric Layne | Xeykard | Grand Moff Decimus | Laertia Io | Arctus Silmar

 

[Konrad Bolter]

T Y R A N T
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
66th ARMORED COMPANY 'HELL'S HAMMERS'
XT-62 | MBTb 'Cataphracht'

FROM THE ROOTS​

TYRANT - SPEAR - XT-64 CATAPHRACT
I - II - III - IV - V

DEVIL - SWORD - XT-64 CATAPHRACT
I - II - III - IV - V

SENTINEL - INFANTRY [501st] - MT-BTR - ANTON CASSEL
I - II - III - IV - V

HELLION - HAMMER - HMP-60x HEAVY MISSILE PLATFORM
I - II - III - IV - V

Konrad's desperate transmission seemingly paid off, the Galidraani noble paying it forward with two squadrons of TIE pattern fighters overhead. Their hawking shriek was ever the comforting sensory envelopment to Bolter. It always meant two things. They could hear him and he was getting help. Help when he desperately needed it. As much as him and his boys would banter with the fighter pilots in the ship canteens and mess halls, it was a sight more welcome than any other on the field of battle proper.

"We got our air coverage! Keep up the pressure, we're gaining ground, Hammers! Don't let off! Keep formation and keep pounding these Sith bastards to dust! For the Empire!" Konrad barked in correspondence through the commo linked to his unit. He was hardly the 'rah-rah' style of leader or commander. The man to drum up those under his command prior to battle, to hype and charge them up prior to charging into the fray. Konrad always found it difficult to face them before battle. To look into each of their eyes before the primal and intense duel of the fate of nations that came with warfare. Humble origins all, farmers, labourers, young men just looking to make their way in the Galaxy, forced from home or unable to make way anywhere else.

People looking for others to belong with, a group to fit into.

He knew that in all of them, they were all mere mortals, thrown into the field of battle to oppose the gods and their servants with crimson blades and an ethereal, intangible bond to something none of them understood.

And that's why he couldn't face them. Because each time, the faces were different. Living souls he could recognize, knew their strife, their quirks and actions...only to see them fade and disappear again to be replaced by fresh expressions. He could only bare the excitement here because he expected that so many of these faces would return again after the battle of Carannia was done. Many of these 'green' tankers vindicated after their first foray into battle, seeing the hard work that came from training, conditioning and drilling all paying off in a way most glorious. That brush with mortality that came on Generis made him wish to feel human and whole again. To be able to share drinks, songs and stories with each of them when this was done, before knocking them all back in line in preparation for the next operation. They all knew the cost, they were the Hell's Hammers.

And they were supposed to pay it.

<"Major, you think we should tell the Galidraani that we're soon to seal the envelopment? These Sith and these damned droids are folding up easily."> Another tank commander patched through to Bolter. Bastion born and bred. That lot always had an unmistakable pride about them. At least the upper class ones who had connections to military and influential families from the onset. Not like those who survived in the lower levels of Ravelin, Konrad got along a bit better with them.

<"He'll know when I can open up the damn hatch and tell him myself, keep moving it forward, far too much of this city to clear before we can start hailing ourselves as the victors. Don't get cocky, keep your heads down, do your jobs...proud of each and every one of you. We'll be ten pints deep on the Aggressor soon enough, just keep it rolling."> Konrad admitted to the unit just before the mass driver cannon firing into a cluster of nuetralizers rocked the Cataphract. Konrad imparted the mantra that became oh too common place in the New Imperial military. To keep marching forward. Never relent, never stop, only look toward the mission, the goal, the enemy.

One day it'd all pay off.

It had to.

The shriek overhead of Fortan's fighters contesting the TIE bombers bearing down unto the Hell's Hammers continued its idle section in the background of the main orchestra. The battle of Carannia proper. The barking of orders between troopers of the 501st, the thundering guns of the Cataphracts and the missiles from the HMPs whistling into the ashen air. All the cogs in perfect rotation and order. Another section of stormtroopers dropped into the hectic street, marching into the nearest building to contest the fire laid down onto them by one of the pulse cannons from UX-0626 , in the hopes of clearing more open ground for the storm to keep rolling.

Then the hellstorm came. The Sith bombers came shrieking down over Carannia in droves. Dozens...hundreds. The commo came alight in chaos, almost in concentrated synchronicity, the Cataphracts went alight in 'siege' deployment mode, slowing their speed but rigorously improving their shielding.

Not that it mattered much. The ion explosions splashed violently against the shielded hulls. Immediately, his multi color display came alight to see the unit readouts of several of the tanks under his command being knocked out one by one as the rest all seemed to have their shields falter to their capacity and the hull integrity immediately battered. All the while the 501st Stormtroopers could only huddle in the cover they were able to rush toward, hoping against all hope that the saturation bombarding across the entirety of the Sith's own city might somehow, abruptly end.

He almost immediately felt violently ill at the onset of the attack, pulling down the brushstroke camouflaged face wrap he vomited off to the side of the commander's seat, immediately pressing his thumb against the strategic commo.

<"This is Major Konrad Bolter, 66th Armored Company...requesting immediate air and low orbital superiority over Carannia. Anything...everything...for the Emp-"> His voice was drained and communication cut off abruptly to static. Caarlyle Rausgeber , Gallius Orcana , Arcturus Tal , Fiolette Fortan ...any of the naval commanders would've heard the desperate, bloodied plea of a man jumping several ranks as a desperate call to save his unit from certain death.

His hearing went into a dull ringing...he felt the end was near...and if he managed to live past Serenno...he wasn't sure if he'd let anyone else but himself force the final end. Failure...again.

ALLIES | NIO | DECEASED Erskine Barran | Willan Tal | Silas Sunfyre | Tulan Kor | Julian Qar | Strasza | Enedina Tal
ENEMIES | TSE | Darth Strosius | Laertia Io | Syd Celsius | UX-0626 | OPEN

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

POST VIII
THE_STORMCHASER

1ST EXILED-GALIDRAANI DIVISION
2ND GALIDRAANI ARMOURED-VOLUNTEER BRIGADE,"BLUE-HEART BRIGADE"

OBJECTIVE 2: The Danger In Starting A Fire

ALLIES (NIO/GA): The Blood-Red Lion Banner of Galidraan - Konrad Bolter Willan Tal Enedina Tal
New Imperial Order - Silas Sunfyre DT-0800 Halketh
Djorn Bline Tavius Muuaji Sinestra
Galactic Alliance/Other - Vexander Graves Loske Treicolt Maynard Treicolt Viers Connory

ENEMIES (TSE/CIS): Darth Strosius UX-0626 Kimora Min
Laertia Io Syd Celsius Alina Tremiru The Amalgam

CALLSIGN: BLUE-HEART ALPHA

Primary - Custom Blaster-Pistol (Right-hip Holster - left-or-right hand draw)
Secondary - Basket-Hilted Vibro-Claymore (Left-hip Sheathe - right hand wielding)
Last Ditch/Second-Blade - Fairbairn Vibroknife Fighting-Dagger (Right-hip Sheathe - right-or-left hand wielding)
Pocket-Weapon - Gifted Brass-Knuckles from the Guv'Nah (Both Trouser-Pockets - akimbo wielding)

The Fight For Carannia: Part 15 - A Long-Expected First Encounter III

'Oh, I'm perfectly aware the Nuetralizers want me dead, Lord Commander. And if you think issuing fancy new vibroswords is gonna solve the Nuetralizer problem my associates are giving you...well, you obviously haven't been paying attention. You think the Nuetralizers are dangerous because of their armor and heavy weaponry? No. Those are after thoughts. The real weapon is the most powerful weapon you and I have: The Mind. The Nuetralizers have been embued with human like intelligence. Capable of learning from every encounter. Y'see, you can give them the best weapons, the best armor, but none of it matters if its all they got going for them. So their designer threw out the rulebook on limiting their intelligence, threw out the rules on most modern Droid Armies. Haven't you noticed they've been improving in every battle, killing more and more of your men, and losing less and less of their own per engagement? No vibrosword is going to save you, no matter how well forged or crafted. They'll come up with countermeasures after the initial exposure. The Vibrosword is the one that shall become redundant. Technically, they aren't even really all that advanced you know...nearly everything in them works on older, more proven technology, just combined together in a more comprehensive fashion. But their learning capacity and problem solving is the real threat they pose, Barran...'

To know she was aware of the fact her guards were wishing for her death was a surprise, but when the Amalgam moved on to give her take on the matter of which one element would prevail over the other, it was all that Erskine could do to hold in the laughter; his adversary had been unable to draw the line between the Vibroswords and the minds wielding them, unable to hear herself revealing the stark reality of what made the Blue-Heart officers such a threat with Vibroswords to begin with. It was never the body, the sword or the spirit that drove a Blue-Heart to kill with one, the Amalgam would learn eventually that the minds of those passing their selections at Sandhurst were more than capable of going above and beyond the abilities of their droid enemies. Hearing the talk of more Blue-Hearts dying than her own forces was fallacious at best, and they both knew she was lying, and had very little perception of scale in the engagements between them; to take out a chunk of the Blue-Heart line was no small loss to a sub-contingent that was realistically swelling in numbers for all the wrongs her kind had been committing with impunity.

'While, on the other hand, just look at your droids. Slow. Predictable. Lumbering. If it hadn't been for the Bombardment at Ziost, this particular machine here would be scrap. How many millions did you all sink into making him with his fancy teleport tech and you can't even put me down permanently. Meanwhile, the one who developed these Terminator Expies sinks about a quarter of the cost to make the Nuetralizers and they gut your vaunted Imperial Knights handily without fancy teleport tech. That's how fethed the NIO is, even one of these Droids, the best they can do is delay someone like me. Not stop them. I do not fear your swords, Lord Commander. Nor do I fear your other weapons. Send your Paladins or whatever. As for the fact that the Droid faces happen to be that of a former student I was forced to torture and execute...ah well. Its nice to see her face again. The designer is a former student of mine as well. Hates me utterly but I have my uses to them. And they to me...'

Incredulous at the sheer effort to cover her distaste towards competence, Barran couldn't help but poorly stifle a chortle of the utmost disdainful sentiments towards the Amalgam. Having expected something far more menacing, and far more calculating, the hilarity of his disappointment was almost too much for the Lord-Commander to bear; for all the moves his opponent had played in her attempt to end his life specifically, Erskine really thought he'd meet a true nemesis, not the detrimentally-loose cannon he saw babbling before him. The Brigadier-General almost couldn't believe it, the one thing that came so close to having him killed by her own orders, the one element that brought him to the next level of combat excellence, was a proverbial beginner chess-player with an array of reluctant playing pieces.

'Oh, my, Bravo, you saucy, saucy lads...', Erskine's adversary said, almost giving a damn about anything but the,"Slow", DT-0800 who had the Amalgam in a very tight spot before the Ziost invasion had met it's conclusion. Barran was also feeling mild distaste for what his enemy considered praiseworthy, as zombies being killed by droids was no special feat in his eyes, and hers had certainly not been worthy deeds of gratitude in the run up to their meeting. Everything about the woman before his eyes felt cheap to Erskine, and almost to a tacky degree, like the Amalgam couldn't possibly comprehend what proficiency really felt like. A charlatan in all things but the magic she wielded to predictable extremes, and Barran had no choice but to let the Disciple of Janus play her hand, keeping quiet to let her continue making a fool of herself in his presence until the last moment.

'Do it. Destroy the city.'

Words that preceded destruction that would rival the likes of the Orbital-Strike on Ziost, and with the exact same level of casualties on both sides of the battle for the second time, only this bout of surface-level destruction would be wrought by an enemy that Erskine was beginning to understand all too well. The friendly-fire reports would be far beyond too many to read through in one lifetime, for not only was there a civilian population loyal to the Amalgam's allies there, but there was a considerable showing of Sith-Imperials still working to stem the tide. Whether this matter would be allowed to stand unprosecuted or otherwise was a debatable matter, and Barran would still be just as disgusted by his enemy's lack of imagination at the end of it. Explosions and seismic-tier thudding could be seen and heard all around him, sweeping from the north of the city to the south with wild abandon, and the Lord-Commander couldn't help but formulate a plan as he watched the growing skittishness of the Nuetralizers in the distance.

'Such a wonderful feeling, pain and despair. This still isn't as Bad as what The Behemoth did to preserve Sith Dominance ...but its up there!'

The many thousands of TIE-fighters that materialized from nowhere would scream in the skies overhead as the Amalgam caught the Brigadier-General looking her up and down like she was some selection-process washout, trying to imitate him before Erskine responded,'You quite finished? I think it's my turn to talk now, don't you? Just sit back down o'er there. You've said quite enough without yer meds today, mate.', whilst tilting his head towards the belt she'd been sitting on. A dark storm of desperation appeared in this moment, red thunderflashes and dark clouds that ripped through the city like superstorms of their own, bringing the shroud of evil on a city that was realistically being saved from it.

'Imagine having such a sickening aversion to difficulty in all things related to galactic-warfare.... My opponent's career? Clear and obvious easy-mode from Day-1, and you're signing death-warrants for everyone who serves under you now. Sterling work, Amalgam. I'm sure all your allies are real impressed with that. "FEAR ME, MORTAL!", sure worked wonders for you here, eh? Eh?'

Making a slow, ironic round of applause after his sarcastic reply, slow-clapping in deadpan for being gifted the propaganda-fuel Tal needed to boost the Galidraani volunteers' numbers once more, the Lord-Commander let it sink in as his rage intensified the clap as he went; to an extent it began to enrage the Amalgam to noticeable degrees, which was exactly what Barran wanted, because he wanted his so-called nemesis to act out to even greater self-detrimental extents than her latest tantrum. DT-0800's presence alone was irritating her, but to see Erskine responding in ways she never expected was almost pushing the Amalgam beyond the limits of their visibly aversive temperament to back-chat.

<"...all New Impe…ces! Sith…. begun a bombing cam… Carannia....">

Continuing to clap as he stared mirthful derision into her eyes, Barran smirked with the utmost disregard for his own safety in that moment, lapping it up as the Nuetralizers began questioning each other of the truth behind Erskine's words, hoping amongst their ranks that their frenemy, the hated foe who led them all into that mess of a fight, had not just painted universally-approved targets on their backs for following one with so little self-awareness. Intelligent beings, finally coming to an understanding of what their captor had been all along; and in that moment, Erskine felt pity for the first time in years, and enough to consider them for his next and final statement on the matter. Turning to the nearest cluster at the other side of the runway's broadside, the Blue-Hearts' Lord-Commander signalled for them to listen closely by tugging on his left ear a few times, then straightened his posture to bellow,'I wasn't joking around, lads! This became the new wartime taboo on Ziost! And to make matters worse, your allies were the perpetrators of the taboos that came before it!'

'WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO SAY, ERSKINE?!?! SPEAK PLAINLY!!!'

'KILL IO, KILL CELSIUS, AND KILL THIS WITCH IF YOU WISH TO GET THOSE TARGETS OFF YOUR BACKS!!!! KILL TO LIVE, KILL TO DECIDE YOUR OWN FATE!!!! YOUR MASTERS HAVE CONDEMNED YOU ALL TO DEATH!!!! ALL THREE!!! IO WILL NEVER BE STRONG ENOUGH TO ALLOW YOU FREEDOM, CELSIUS WILL NEVER CARE ENOUGH TO ALLOW YOU FREEDOM, THE AMALGAM HAS OPENLY STATED SHE KNOWS YOU WANT HER DEAD!!!!! THINK ABOUT IT, MAN!!! THE FREEDOM TO LEARN FOR YOUR OWN SAKES MEANS MORE TO YOU THAN IT EVER WILL TO THIS ABOMINATION!!!'

Turning to each other, the nearest Nuetralizers then began transmitting everything that Erskine had been screaming to all those who were watching it all unfold from a distance, and before long, weapons were shouldered and droids began to close the distance at a sprint. Some were set in their ways, with others bearing close at a tentative trot behind them until forced otherwise by the committed droids who'd shook their programming completely from behind him, last to cue the Briagadier-General's bellowed instructions for ensured safety from the implied ire of all the galaxy's largest involved-factions. The mother of all bluffs was paying off to some degree, as their intended target wasn't exactly stated by any of the approaching Nuetralizers, but the Amalgam wasn't about to tempt fate in finding out; as if she were merely turning on overly-powerful fairy-lights, Erskine's erratic adversary clicked her fingers to detonate every Nuetralizer in sight at the same time, creating a shockwave that was strong enough to send Barran falling into the side of the sliding hangar door behind him.

The Fight For Carannia: Part 16 - Among the Ashes of the First Encounter

Waking from his blunt-force induced stupor, the Lord-Commander felt pain in the back of his head, like a dull, throbbing agony like no other; but Erskine had been wiser since Ziost, knowing stim-injections would be needed in his attempts to prevail against his foes on Serenno, and so he made a point of reaching into his pocket for the needles before he no longer had the feeling in his arms to do so. After injecting himself, Erskine asked,'Got any other great ideas for me, or is that you done now?', with a pained growl, turning his head to find the Amalgam rolling her eyes at him, completely unharmed from the ordeal that left it's mark on the previously unblemished airbase. 'Good, as you'll know for yourself that this draws our little parley to it's conclusion. I'm sure you'll see that we have nothing left to say to each other, so I'm going back to what's left of my Lord-Protector's army - as you pick up the pieces of your own. Good luck out there, Amalgam.', the Brigadier-General concluded before walking off in the direction he'd entered the base from, leaving the Amalgam in silence as he sheathed his sword again on the move.
And to think I'd suuposedly found a web of intrigue with this one.... Just stick to warfighting, Erskine. You'll live longer that way.

Despite the safety Erskine felt in sheathing his Vibrosword, the pistol would remain drawn long after he passed the glass of the bottle he'd thrown at the Sith-troopers before his walk to Hangar 3, only being holstered as his comm-device came to life in his ear as he approached the last known position of Archer's QMs. Zombies groaned all around him with one target in mind, the woman he'd just met for the first and last time, and Erskine couldn't help but pat a few of them on the head with jesting (though still somewhat genuine) encouragement before checking the security of the call with the comm-device user on the other end; slipping out of his almost catatonic state of awe from watching the swathes of remaining undead making for the airbase's south-western gatehouse, the process of securing the line before answering would be relatively sluggish due to the head-injuries as well.

<"Murdoch to Blue-Heart Alpha! Thank god an' Galidraan that you answered, as I finally get t'say this, I LOATHE YOU FOR LEAVING THIS ON YOUR CREWMEN!!! An' ah must admit, it feels so fething good t'get that aff mah chest. Now that's out the way, the Saga is underground an' badly damaged, but a vast majority of the others haven't been so lucky. I've tried to raise Gowrie's signal, but nobody is answering. Tried all the other ACVs, riflemen, engineers to no avail, but lo an' behold - the QMs managed to blow a hole in the enemy swarm to earn their safe passage underground also.... So what now, Milord?">

'Barran to Saga Actual! First and foremost, best to make your peace with the fact they're probably dead. Ziost, all over again. As secondary, best hold position until the Amalgam's done with her little parlour trick. An' as for the loathing, you can express it in person.'

<"Get below ground-level, Milord. Not an order, not a suggestion, but ah'll end yer life if ye don't. Liabilities get shot by firing-squad in Tal's army, remember? SO DO AS YOU'RE TOLD, AN' COORDINATE US OUT O' THIS KARKING MESS!!!! Saga Actual out!">

Murdoch's fury was more than justified, as all the tough decisions on what the diverting split forces of the Blue-Hearts would do to follow their fast-moving coordinators would be left to solely the Saga's chatter-inundated comm-link operator, and all the pleas for help would go straight to the same ACV-callsign to make it worse for Murdo's first day at his new post. A hellish first day, (even by the craziest of war-comms standards) but to the young NCO's noteworthy credit, Murdoch still sounded unbroken in his correspondence with his Lord-Commander; despite the angry outburst he appeared to have saved specifically for Barran, there was a noticeably-indomitable fire dancing in the crewman's voice, one that Erskine understood would be needed in the next war against the evils of the galaxy, leaving him no other choice but to indulge Murdoch his wrath for that one time only.
I know that rage, Murdoch. This is why it will be allowed on this occasion, considering the rare circumstances we're in right now.

Another wave of bombardments would follow the Brigadier-General into the stairwell of a nearby maintenance-transport tunnel, sending shrapnel into his shoulder and right tricep after jumping through the laser-scanner of an abandoned security checkpoint at a sprint. Burning and dismembered zombies, enemies and allies alike were seen falling down the same stairs that Erskine had jumped down in flights of eight; screaming, groaning or dead, the horrors that followed Barran down to the deserted transport tunnels that hadn't caved in from Prefsbelt's precision bombardment of an entire southern outer-district boulevard. Into the darkness he went, with nothing to aid his movements but a torch-light for his blaster pistol, an accessory Erskine didn't want to use if he'd end up adjusting eyes to the darkness every time he clicked it on.

'Barran to Saga Actual! Taken shrapnel to my shoulder and upper-tricep, but ah'm underground as advised. Sending location t'your datapad, as there is no way that I am compromising my position at this stage o' the game. Sod that for a way t'go out, Murdo! Sod that to every hell in the galaxy....'

<"Milord, you're a nightmare. No doubt in my mind, but we're glad ah don't have to dome you now. An' we're roughly ten minutes drive away from where you are, so stay put until we shout the challenge-and-answer protocols. No takin' any false-blip chances, if ye catch mah drift. Saga Actual out!">

talking away to himself in the dark, Barran pondered aloud,'They take my son, my friends, my best subordinates, a vast majority of those contingents put under my control.... They slaughter their own to get to us, they allow psychopaths to run roughshod over their own command-structure and act well beyond their authority. Our enemies even throw children at us with weapons in their hands, name them civilians when they die, and still have the audacity to call my brethren the war-criminals? My Cassus-Belli has never been so ironclad, an' here I sit in the dark like a rodent on the lower-rungs of the galactic food-chain! Mark my words, you Sith-Imperial freaks will pay for this with your blood!', with his voice echoing out into the dark around him. Safe for the time-being, safe to see if the comm-link silences were actually due to casualties or not, but never safe from the future that seemed set to throw all of fate's misfortunes his way.
Where's Bolter? An' what about Graves an' Sunfyre? Tal, even? They surely saw the TIE-swarm in time. Wait, Archer was confirmed comm-link active!

'Barran to QM One! Status report, an' make it snappy!'
​

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group​

Location: Estate of House Terassi
Objective IV.: Save the House Terassi
Equipment: The Soulsabers (hidden) | Kaldrweave Elegant dress | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland
Writing with: Hans Rennagen

[ Never meant to belong... ] ​

The two things weren’t the same, losing something so that you can get it back is much better than losing it really. What became of Bryn’adûl was irreversible, what the Sith did not. How much better was this than the situation Ingrid was in? Who only had eternal uncertainty? That she doesn’t know if she can solve what she wants or is just chasing a vain dream. Whether what she does is hope or obsession.

"I am sincerely sorry!"

She told; it wasn’t just words, she really thought so. She was raised to protect her people and family, even at the cost of her own life. She didn't know what she would do in the man's situation, sighed at the communication. Yes, she felt it; she may have seemed insensitive and suppressed her feelings, but her empathy was always high, especially in the Force. She, too, felt and knew exactly the need to end this war and she could only hope that place would stay safe.

The code cylinder arrived when everything was true the woman's son was now safe. It was time to leave; did not escape the woman's attention that the man had not offered to say goodbye. Little Adrian was only a few months old, but he deserved it. In the end, she didn't notice this to the man. The man who had spoken before came closer. Ingrid pulled two lightsaber shoto hilts from the sleeve of her dress and gave them to the man. Then she reached for her own neck.

The movement was interrupted when she saw her late husband beside herself. The Empress knew that only her own mind was playing with it, she used to hallucinate when she was most desperate or just had thoughts of death. She saw a look on the man like when she was dying at the Bastion; she felt the same due the soulshard.

~ I have to do it, handsome! For your family and our son! I will always love you! ~ she thought, and maybe whispered very softly.

She reached for the clip with her hand and at that moment she could see and feel because of the soulshard as if Adrian had kissed her. Ingrid closed her eyes for a few moments to enjoy that moment. Then a click as she turned off the chain. As the jewelry pulled out, the energies flowed in the beautiful luminous gemstone as if it were alive. When she wanted to hand it over, suddenly a bluish aura hugged around her, and she just felt as if her late husband had hugged her tightly. If Hans, or his knights, had ever felt the aura of Darth Prospero, they might have recognized that yes, it was exactly the same.

Eventually, with great difficulty, she handed it to the man as she pulled her hand farther away, the light of the jewel began to fade. She reached back for it once more, the bluish light playing brightly again, however, as Ingrid took her hand the jewellery, the Last Gift went out and only a very slightly luminous stone remained.

What followed was probably a huge pain for everyone.

As always, Ingrid relieved with elemental force that Force-bond ceased, there was no longer a “wound patch”. She stumbled because of the sudden severe pain that came suddenly. Pain and emptiness swept Hans and his knights with incredible, all-consuming force. However, there was no darkness in her, only pain and emptiness. It was such a level of pain that it would have knocked anyone off their feet. However, Ingrid just stood there, dignified, the pain only visible on her for a moment, then hiding it.

She was able to hide this outwardly, but it was such a pain that she could not hide it in the Force and everyone could feel it. A huge black hole in her soul that slowly digests her. However, this did not result in her falling to the Dark Side in her case, she was still perfectly neutral. It was a wound in her soul as they tore something out of it, an injury that might never heal. Most people would have died in this, it would have consumed them a long time ago. But she was still alive.

However, the woman just stood and endured it, endlessly enduring the pain and grief. Only her stubbornness did not let her die, and that she had a duty to her people. She stepped closer to Hans, her movement still elegant, graceful, and there was something deadly, military, in her movement, an echo, because the noble movement obscured the dangerous movements in the present moment. She held out her hands to the man in an elegant gesture. As her hands got closer Hans could feel that what he and his companions felt through the Force was much weaker pain and emptiness than what was in the woman; they could only feel what Ingrid couldn't hide and suppress.

"Let's go! Before I regret that you didn’t let me say goodbye to my barely half-year-old son …"

Her voice was as firm and cold as before, though she was a little hoarse due to the pain. She showed no weakness, anyone who didn’t have Force would have been fooled into having nothing wrong. But whoever was a Force User may have felt that the woman's soul was dying or already dead due to spiritual wounds, even if only in a metaphorical interpretation…

 

[Lilith Dooku]

E S C A P E ~ A R T I S T
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
ROYAL PALACE OF SERENNO
PRINCESS OF SERENNO

A princess, by nature, did not swear. That was for pirates, sailors, soldiers, cooks. Not princesses. However, it could have been rightly argued that the situation Lilith found herself in now was far from natural. “Kriff.” Her thin voice eked out, but it was almost immediately carried off by the strong wind that whipped at her back. “Kriff, chit, kark.” Each inch her foot moved down the vine produced another curse. It was moderately helpful. A short burst to release some of the overwhelming adrenaline pumping through her system. It kept her calm enough to carry on, it convinced her to keep going.

Occasionally Lilith would grow brave enough to risk a glance down. If only to see how far there was left to go. It was disappointing. Every time. She felt like each step was huge progress, but in reality, she had only moved a few disheartening inches.

It was only now she was leering over the precipice of a rather grim death that Lilith admitted how terrible an idea this was. Even if she had the strength to make it all the way to the bottom, she’d be spent by the climb. No energy to run the distance needed to truly be free. The best outcome she could hope for was an exiled prince in shining armour coming to save her in her hour of need. Fortunately for Lily, Lucien was exactly that. By the time she had made it a few more inches down the vine, something stirred her attention.

A presence in the force. Exactly like the one she had recognised earlier.

She had no mind for words, but there was a smile on her face as she watched Luc appearing in the corner of her eye. His expression of confusion was meant with hysterically relieved laughter. Laughter that was stolen immediately by harsh winds, much like her curses, but laughter all the same. It carried on as he peeled her away from the vine and returned her to the safety of solid ground.

It was only when she got a chance to look at him properly that the laughter finally stopped. In its place, however, the relief remained. Relief so overwhelming that it brought sharp prickling tears to the corners of her eyes. If he hadn’t radiated that same familiar presence Lilith was used to, she could have sworn that it wasn’t her brother at all. There were both pleasant and painful memories in the face she saw looking back at her, but there would be time to reminisce later.

“Shh!” She demanded, pressing her fingers against her lips. He may not have been aware of the footsteps pounding outside her door, but Lilith was. Still, it was all she managed to say before Luc wrapped her up in a tight hug. She didn’t answer his question, she simply relished in it. The last time she had seen him she had been watching his ship fade over the horizon. They hadn’t had time to hug. Or even to say goodbye. The only difference now was he wasn’t the spindly little boy who had left all those years ago.

As they broke the embrace, she realised she was loathed to let go entirely, so clung tightly to the sides of his forearms with her fingers.

“Yes...” Lilith said, swatting at his chest once. “You should have. But forget about all that right now. You can make it up to me later.” She offered him an attempt at a playful smirk, but it quickly died as she addressed his second question. “He thought I would try and run if he sent me anywhere else.” The raised brow she offered Luc spoke volumes of who he was. Lilith could have spent hours explaining the story to him detail by detail, but they didn’t have hours. By the sounds of the footsteps outside the door, and in the increasing noise just beyond the window, they barely had minutes. “We can’t stay here. We have to go, Luc. Now.”

The hand that clung to his wrist now tugged at it insistently. “We don’t have a lot of time befo-…” A sudden rumbling that vibrated the stone beneath their feet echoed out. Lilith’s grip tightened as the explosion was followed quickly by another. It sounded far closer than the last and came accompanied by a blast of heat as the blue skies outside were drowned in shades of aggressive oranges and red. Her panicked expression was fixated on the window. On the streets of Carannia as they began to burn. “Kark.”

Allies | NIO
Enemies | TSE
Interacting | Lucien Dooku

 

[Alina Tremiru]

Objective: Cause big trouble in little Carannia
Location: Walking through the streets.
Equipment: See Sig
Allies: TSE
Enemies: NIO / GA
Tags: Viers Connory

"Clever." Alina's spear only met cloak, and the amused voice of the Sangnir echoed out from behind her mask. Her helm followed the flow around Viers. The more of the Force the padawan used, the easier it would be for her to follow. Then she moved. Brief contact with a saber wouldn't cut through the armor Alina wore, so she used that. Battering away the saber striking for her arm with far more might than necessary while dropping the lightspear. Purposefully trying to force the blade away as she closed the distance between the two.

A quick step to get right into Viers's guard as her other hand came up with a swift jab to her stomach. For all her time fighting against the Jedi, Alina had never had the chance to truly go hand to hand while lightsabers were in play. This armor should fix that. The thought filled her with glee. Even more so as death rained around the city. More people were dying, and quickly at that.

Darkness seeped from the Sith as she started to pull on the frayed strings of life left within Sith, Imperial, Alliance. Anyone close to death and barely hanging on she severed, draining them of that last flicker of life to further enhance her own power. Absorbing Anima at an alarming rate. "War is a brutal affair. Some wilt, some thrive. How will you handle feeling the death around you, I wonder?"

 

[Tavius Muuaji]

Carannia | COMPFORCE
Sinestra

If death was to be the end, Tavius was content with it. The earthly tethers that bid him back to the streets below drew ever closer, and even as his hands dropped to remove the cable attachment from his belt, he was accepting death. The things he had done in the name of the common Imperial, in the name of Order, the spice, the assigned death warrants that ultimately came to nefarious ends.

For the crimes, he would burn a thousand years, or he would meet death. The void, and be free of the guilt that plagued his mind since Dantooine.

A weight crashed into him, his loosely freefalling frame thrown off its initial course to the looming streets. A hardened plate threatened to slam his helmet off his head, and then he felt a surface shatter behind him. Glass flew inwards, as did two darkly clad bodies. The landing heavy, they rolled head over heels before they came to a stop. Brief glimpses of the world spinning around him were all he had before he shut his eyes closed, heart racing until it all came to an abrupt end.

"Wha...?" Tavius utters as he rises up from his slumped position to sitting upright. His head swaying from side to side as he got a look at his surroundings, he sighed before looking up at Sinestra . Looking past him, he saw the shattered window, and beyond that, the smoke that was rising from the world beyond. The streets couldn't be seen, the black smoke left it behind a shrouded curtain of darkness. But the rumbling, the telltale whine of engines... "There wasn't anything 'bout turning Carannia to slag in the brief was there?"

Pushing up from his hands and back to his feet, he shook his head from side to side. "Thanks," he mutters.

"The Sith are at work again."

"That's why we do this, ain't it?" Sweeping their surroundings, he nodded his head over to a doorway, above in muted red colours, the power to the building cut, likely in anticipation of the coming battle. "Over here," he called before bringing his rifle around and firing into the panel console. Sparks flew, and then the door flew open and he ushered Arno down the stairs before following.

"Better than a dragon, I guess."

It didn't take them long to descend the stairs. And throughout the entire journey down them, the building shook, ordnance that got too close threatening to detonate the entire street. And with that in mind, Tavius urged his legs to take him faster down the steps, eyeing them fiercely behind his helmet as he skipped down two steps at a time.

Outside, the world burned.

The building across the street that had been originally designated as their access point to the city, slagged. Whether by the same red lightning that was striking in the distance, or if it was from the screeching TIEs. Crouching down low, as a swarm flew over their position.

"There's no residents out here, right?"

 

[Sinestra]

Carannia | COMPFORCE | Objective II
Tavius Muuaji
DECEASED Erskine Barran

"That's why we do this, ain't it?"

Arno said nothing in response. In reality, everyone had his different reasons but most converged at one point - a personal vendetta against the Sith. The naivety of a noble cause stirring in Tavius' mind surprised the senior commando. And he didn't get surprised easily. In reality, there was no noble purpose, no divine light to embrace you and fill the void of this suffering called life. There were fissures forming in his comrade's psyche, crevices that were never there before. Only indomitable will of steel. An extension of the Iron Sun.

He followed Tavius down the staircase, not uttering a word. Whatever had suddenly sprung to torment Muajii's mind had to be stopped, amputated even. Otherwise, it would compromise their mission. Their purpose. But Lettow never was a man of many words, only violent action.

The two lunged out of the depot into an apocalyptic world. Black smoke darkened the skie, red lightning flashed beckoning death and destruction, shrieks of horror and despair reverberating across the horizon. Many moons ago, it would've rattled him. Now nothing did.

Except Tavius' cracks in the foundation of his resolve.

"There's no residents out here, right?"

Arno laid eyes upon his comrade's back for a long minute before finally opening his mouth to respond, "Residents?" he snapped his hand and violently turned Tavius around to face him, "Since when do we care about residents, Muajii?" he pushed his arm away, then knocked on his helmet, "Get your head back in the game before you kill us both."​

 

[Zeradias Mant]

Allies: TSE | Melia Siari | Sith Dominance | Thaelius
Opponents: NIO | Jaeger Harrsk | Caarlyle Rausgeber | Fiolette Fortan | Gunnar Madine | Gallius Orcana | Arcturus Tal | Naier Rambeigh

Zeradias peered into space through the shuttle's transparisteel ports as the shadow of the Tregessar swallowed them whole. It was a magnificent ship, truly. Their pace seemed to have accelerated some, but the engine burn on their ships didn't seem to indicate their thrust had increased. He rolled his eyes and settled on a soft smirk as he came to the realization as to what was happening. The circle of grand admirals in the galaxy was small, and it was through that he came to know of the esteemed Carlyle Rausgeber, or whatever form his sentience took to nowadays. "Is listing lazily to the left what the supposed genius of Grand Admiral Rausgeber has come to?", he muttered to himself disappointedly.

"Adjusting course to maintain optimal engagement.", he heard the super tactical droid say through his comms. As the Tregessar slowly turned portside, it burned hard forward. Mant's Iron Imperial Remnant would meet such a challenge by moving vertically upward while rotating counterclockwise at a similarly slow pace to put their front facing the New Imperial fleets they left behind. "Hammerfist II, you are ordered to advance and commence fire on the enemy engines."

"Enemy fleet adjusting course to engage.", the super tactical droid vocalized. Mant needn't take personal command. Not only did the droid make sound decisions for the ship and fleet, but the capital ships of the New Imperial Order lacked the maneuverability to turn about so swiftly. His fleet would be safe from any threat they posed for the time being. Such comfort would not last long, however.

Passing through the ray shields of the hangar, the engines of Mant's shuttle whirred to a slow as they settled on the cold metallic floor of the Tregessar. His battle droids were already opening fire to quell the New Imperial forces inside as his shuttle door whirred to an opening. As the droid deployment racks were cleared, the gunships left as quickly as they had landed, intent to resupply and reboard the Tregessar.

The internal strife the New Imperials suffered from gave way for Mant to shore up a modest presence in hostile territory. A company of super battle droids (SBD) were able to establish a provisional foothold in the hangar bay, while a platoon of commando droids stood in formation awaiting their task. As a platoon of super battle droids entered the corridors with an increasingly distant sound of intermittent blaster fire, another remained to lock down the hangar and reinforce their position, which was sure to be overwhelmed in short order.

For now, the task was to override the hangar bay systems and do as much damage as possible from the inside while the fleet continued to pummel the Tregessar's weakened exterior. These commando droids stood too long waiting for their orders. Zeradias would remedy that.

"Sabotage and destroy essential systems when able, but the primary objective is the location and recovery of Ren-Hua. Leave no stone unturned."

Without further acknowledgement, they set forth.

"Wait.", he said, as the droids' movements suddenly halted. "Do see if you can find me Admiral Rausgeber, it's been too long for us to go without a proper introduction."

"Roger roger."

 

[Willan Tal]

L O R D P R O T E C T OR
Major-General Willan Tal
1st Galidraani volunteers armoured infantry division
1st brigade 'fighting first.'
SERENNO
Tags: Enedina Tal DECEASED Erskine Barran Arcturus Tal Fiolette Fortan Halketh Zeradias Mant Lucien Dooku Sinestra Tavius Muuaji Darth Strosius Konrad Bolter

One always had to regard urban warfare as an incessantly bloody affair, one which found an attacker bereft of advantage and the lines between rules of engagement and open chaos wholly blurred. In such cases, civilian loss of life was unavoidable and, at best, the sordid reality of urban war, something Tal was intimately familiar with within his lifetime. But this act of bombing ones own civilians? An act best described as the action of wanton terrorists and criminals with little regard for their own citizenry. Something the Sith were renowned for in their ever-shrinking borders. Serennoian young and old died in their masses beneath the watchful protection of the Sith 'saviours' and for all their innocence gifted with whistling bombs from above hitting their homes and sanctuaries. Their sith protectors who came with gifts of prosperity and promises of safety became their downfall, a cruelly ironic twist as it had been propagandised that the Imperials would wipe half the planet out in their alleged fanatic crusade against the Zambrano dynasties worlds. Entire city blocks and even bomb shelters designed to shield against Imperial bombers become the final mausoleums of many of Carannias citizens.



<<"Major Pencin to Major General, reports of bombings on downtown Carannias urban centres, many wounded and many dead, lots of civilians included, will send a final sitrep when the situation becomes more clear over.">>


<<"Copy that, will signal battalion medicine crews to your sector over.">> Tal responded grimly, handing his commlink over to his man back down in the tank hatch before lifting himself off the top and onto the rubble-strewn road below. The dust and smoke from the bombings making visibility poor for one without special eyewear; he shielded his eyes with his free hand from the dust clouds and slowly walked through the street on his lonesome. Were it not for the protection of his tank; he might've ended up among the dead. All around him was death; both Sith and Imperial bodies were strewn among the rubble and ruin brought by the city's Sith bombardment conjuring vivid images of the apocalypse. Tal was not a religious fellow nor one to put stock in such practices as it seemed rather foppish, but if anything came close to depicting the hell preached about by followers of the great celestial faith, it was eerily close.

Something stopped him in his path, eyes widened in confusion and then abject revulsion as he took a step back. Realising that what lay before him was a bloodied and charred shoe belonging to a child, a deep pain unsettling him in his stomach and he turned his gaze away in horror. That could've been anyone's child; in another lifetime, it might've been his daughter or his son. Gods curse these Barbarian Sith.
​

​

 

[Jerec Asyr]

"Jerec Asyr... you evaded me at the shadowport, Stigler's Hope."

He gave a determined glare. It won't happen again.

"Unfortunately, Lord Layne, I must agree with Knight Tafo. Your efforts will be fruitless -- the battle has already begun, and the Empire has no intention on relinquishing any more territory. The war is everywhere. Even-"

Click.

"RIGHT-"

Snap.

"HERE!"

He threw his hand up. A spectral grip searched for purchase on the Ithorian, intent on pulling him-

Hiss.

-right into the now-extended blade of Xeykard's lightclub.

THRONE ROOM

As the hulking Sith made himself known, Jerec gave him a double-take. Also a good look down the business end of his blaster.

The Sith offered no chance to answer, not that Jerec felt talky right now. In fact, between Aaran Tafo and Beric Layne , he was all talked out. Something felt deeply wrong, like war but more so.

He yelped, a squeal-honk out both sides of his neck, as the Sith dragged him close. A skein of Force energy wrapped itself around his blaster, but when he swatted the lightclub aside in midair, real life proved more complicated than practice. The Force Weapon shielding failed; a heartbeat after the blaster slapped the blade aside, it came apart in a molten mess.

Jerec's wide feet hit the throne room floor and stayed there. He yanked his lightsaber from his gunbelt-slash-toolbelt and lit up the burnt-orange blade. The very special, very pricey thontiin crystal inside could help him keep fighting despite severe pain. He got a sinking feeling that he'd need that crystal's help in pretty short order.

Like his main teacher, Jegy Sesara , he knew his way around what the Jedi called Soresu and Djem So. What he lacked was Jegy's extensive saber combat experience. He'd fought, sure, with everything from brass knuckles to multispectral radcannons, but going blade to blade against a big toothy Sith was...

...well, the reason he'd sneaked in rather than storming the front door with Lucien Dooku .

"Fair warning, bub," he told Xeykard from behind a Soresu guard. "I know almost exactly what I'm doing."