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

[Kimora Min]

​

Carannia

It was clear the dust would not settle anytime soon. Explosions rung out throughout the city and fires raged on. Pillars of smoke covered much of the airspace. It was total war in Carannia. From her perch, Kimora continued watching the movements of the New Imperial forces that she could spot, noting their tactics and movements to make an attempt at a counterattack. She would have to use the city's landscape to her advantage.

She tuned into local communications, trying to get an idea where she was needed. Legionnaires calling for reinforcements several blocks away. Kimora had to act quickly. She quickly rose from her crouched position and began sprinting towards a building next to the restaurant. Had to be an office building of sorts, by the look of it. As she reached the edge of the roof, Kimora jumped off and barreled through a glass window and into the building. With her enhanced cybernetic strength, Kimora continued on through the building, leaping over desks at near lightning speed until she reached the other end, jumping though the window and into another building. This one was a residential. Kimora found herself in a long hallway with several doors along the sides. At the other end, there was another window. She ran up to it and could see the Legionnaires in the streets below. Smoke covered much of the area. Through the smoke, Kimora got an eye on the New Imperials rushing into a building across the way. Kimora leaped out of the building and planted her hand on the side of the building. Using her magnetic grip, she slid down the building from several floors up where she was.

The fires from the short skirmish raged behind her as she moved towards the building the New Imperials entered, but before she could place her hand on the door, an explosion from inside sent her flying backwards and into the dirt. The air in her lungs were quickly shot out of her as she hit the ground. As she rose up from her back, she coughed heavily. Slowly, her eyes opened up and she could see the interior of the building burning in flames. "What the hell happened in there.." she uttered. She pushed herself back on her feet and stared down the fires. "No way anyone in there survived." she said to herself. "But, no way would civilians have that kind of gear, nor were there any units inside. This has to be those Imperials way of covering their tracks." she concluded.

Kimora began making her way around the building in order to get back on the trail. Whoever these people were, they were relentless. But, so was she.

The skies above were turning deadly. A storm unnatural in size and scope, unlike anything Kimora had seen before, rolled in. Bolts of red ripped through the air and onto the city, tearing it apart. Kimora was running low on time. The Sith were clearly ready to risk it all to stop the New Imperial war machine. Several explosions around her went off from the lightning. TIEs crashed into several buildings after they were torn from the skies above.

"Don't think I'm leaving this planet anytime soon.."



Equipment: x x x x x

Djorn Bline ​

 

[Caarlyle Rausgeber]

OPERATION WINTERVOID
TASKFORCE REGENT FORCE
NIV TREGESSSAR
Allies: Naier Rambeigh | Gunnar Madine | Fiolette Fortan | Arcturus Tal
Enemies: Jaeger Harrsk | Gallius Orcana | Sith Dominance | Thaelius | Zeradias Mant | Melia Siari

​

Something royally snapped within Carlyle as he came face to face with Orcana. There was no fear in the man's face. There was gloating. Pride. Pride with this... This insubordination. This act of treason. "You traitor! You useless moron!" The Grand Admiral bellowed, "I'll have you shot for this Orcana! I'll have you worse than shot I-I-I-!" And then the transmission was canned. "Gahhh!' The Grand Admiral roared, picking up a data pad, and throwing it at the table. Its screen shattered as it hit, clattering to the ground. The Tregessar then shook, as the display recalibrated to show the fleet positioning. "Why aren't we firing at them?!"

"We are sir! Batteries are engaged, firing at will milord!" The Gunnery Chief barked. The bridge of the Tregessar was in disarray now. The Iron Imperials were a little more versatile than Carlyle had ever truly given them credit for. "All batteries engaged at closest range available sir, and all others are primed and ready to attack once in range." This was a disaster. A debacle and disaster. Carlyle paced back and forth as the tactical situation continued to develop against his intentions. Harrsk had caused this. Harrsk would pay for this. In fact, Carlyle's mind wandered and began to speculate if this wasn't some attempt by the COMPNOR boss to defect perhaps.

"Grand Admiral, Stossjaeger units confirm enemy boarding in sectors three and four sir." The Brigadier reported. Carlyle felt a pang of terror ripple through him. He had underestimated this enemy greatly. "Confirmation is enemy combatants are primarily some form of elite droid units. Casualties have been minimal so far sir. Tracking them, they appear to be locked onto major systems." Carlyle glowered. Should Harrsk be colluding with this scum, he knew it was but a matter of time before they breached the defences. No doubt about it, Jaeger Harrsk was up to something. He had already seemed to turn his subordinates against him. The nature of it yet truly pressed itself. But a boarding of the vessel was apart of it. And needed to be stopped.

"Have additional units dispatched to the front, and to secure the following," Carlyle stipulated, "Reactor. Engines. Command deck." The Grand Admiral ordered. "Inform all units that they are to fight to last man. No surrender!" The Grand Admiral angrily thundered, "And bring me the whore Mant!" Carlyle barked to Brigadier Buell, "She started this, she will be here to watch her father die, and the traitor Harrsk to boot!" Buell nodded, and hastily returned back to his work, leaving Carlyle with a sobering glare, watching the fleet battle proceed.

"Grand Admiral, Commodore Madine requests support milord!" The Comms team reported. Carlyle's eyes darted reflexively to the corvette pack. By the Force, they'd been mauled. Carlyle felt pangs of guilt enter his mind. He'd neglected Madine and his force. They'd acted diligently and yet he had forsaken him. He would have to redouble his efforts. He was no Orcana. More of a Rambeigh. He was a well and proper gentleman. Esteemed and capable. His type of man.

"Authorise the Commodore to be able to act entirely independently." Carlyle finally mused, "Madine is to be allowed to take whatever course neccessary to defend himself and maintain fleet strength." That would do the trick. "Once he has regrouped, he is to move to engage targets at will. Within the safety of his operation.

Carlyle watched as his orders were enacted, "Grand Admiral, priority blue transmission sir," Carlyle's gaze drifted to the crew pits, "Reports from multiple sources confirm sir, is that the enemy has embarked on a bombing run. Saturation." Carlyle's eyes widened. He had become so consumed with the battle above that such a mobilised force had escaped his notice.

"I want TIE fighters, interceptors, everything, mobilised down there to hold back and disrupt that operation. All commands are to follow this order." Not that they would, with how Orcana had so flagarently betrayed him. Nonetheless Carlyle barked order after order, trying to stem the tide of viciousness "Commodore Madine is to take point, his corvette pack is to scurry, immediately. He will organise and coordinate with the Galidraani and any commands below. We cannot allow the Sith to win. We will not allow them to win!"

 

[Halketh]

I D O L
V U L T U R E
THE 9TH CARLACI CORPS
CARANNIA,
SERENNO
[ x ]
_

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

He reveled in the destruction his forces wreaked, in the havoc, their ambush ushered forth. It was a clever plot the New Imperials had schemed together, one that would have tipped the scales of the invasion in their favor entirely, as if the fact this hadn't been a sneak attack initially failed to do so. Yet, as he unleashed his choir of chaos, burning and incinerating any of those fleshy and mechanized soldiers with an impossibly hungry inferno, he was struck with a vision. His prophetic gifts often inconvenienced him, and this was no exception. Pain split his scalp, puncturing the soft tissue of his temples and raking talons across grey matter.

The heavens split apart, strobing red death. Thunder crashed. The ground shook.

Halketh staggered backward, reaching up to snap hands over the sides of his chromed helmet, struggling to steel himself against the visceral illusion of The Force. He shook his head violently, clawing at the sides of his helmet desperately to get it off his head. Yet, as quickly as it had come, it left him, panting and sweat-soaked beneath his clothing. Warmth trickled from his right ear, hugging the length of his neck as it crept down to soak into his collar. He tried pushing the sensation down before it could make his skin crawl and instead focused his efforts on weaving the inferno he had created higher, siphoning the slipping life essences from the fallen and churning them right back into his power to elevate his efforts. It was a taxing rhythm he settled himself into, one he knew he could not endure for very long on his own without the bolstering aid of his apprentice.

Not only was the pyrokinetic dance exhaustive, but the heat itself was taking its toll on his quivering body.

All the same, The Vulture whipped the flames about in a pirouette, cleaving himself more breathing room he closed on, intending to capitalize to push when the screaming whine from his vision made him freeze in his tracks. It hadn't been his ghosts feeding his psyche lies, no, it had been a true warning. Lead dropped down his ribs, clattering against each in bouncing rhythm before sinking into the pit of his gut. Halketh snapped his head skyward, watching the churning depths of the clouds in his mind's eye. The Force had been manipulated similarly to how he had been told it was on Ziost- a chaotic storm was about to split the skies.

But that wasn't the source of the whine, no... those zipping silhouettes illuminated against the crimson background were.

Bombers.

Where had they come from? There hadn't been time to prepare a fleet-- the NIO invasion of this world had been a surprise. Why had none of their fleeters warned of such a thing? Was it another hyper-beacon trick? He wasn't sure and he didn't have the time to postulate. This wasn't Ziost. This was an entirely different world, and he was here, this time. The more death tolled around him, the more he could feast, and the stronger he could become.

<"ALL CARLACI FORCES, RAISE YOUR SHIELDS. PERISH TO PROTECT THE OTHERS IF YOU MUST."> His voice rang across his forces' comms as he planted his feet and swept his hands skyward, flinging the tidal wave of liquid fire from around him into the air. Ships were engulfed, detonating charges under the immense heat in the air, while others managed to avoid it. Desperation choked him.

Around the city, the scattered squads of the Carlaci Corps clustered around their Force Users, seeking shelter from the ships and lighting beneath the shimmering barriers each raised gallantly. If they were to exhaust themselves irreversibly on this day, it was going to be saving as many of their comrades as they could- such was what they had agreed to.

Halketh expelled a heavy breath, forced to decide in an instant what he was going to do. <"MOVE UNDERGROUND!"> He ordered his undead, commanding them back into the hellish maw they had emerged from, and away from the bombings. He rushed headfirst to the hole, sweeping his hands to each side, parting the smoldering flames to allow his creations' passage. He, however, remained behind on the surface.

"You would kill yourself for these people... yet you..." she was in his head.

He whimpered softly, brows pinching together. It wasn't like that. It wasn't like that. It wasn't like that. He had to keep lying to himself. "It isn't like that." Halketh muttered aloud, brushing the ghostly voice aside, "Not this time." He flexed his gloved hands upward, reaching through The Force to feel for those perished who walked beside him. Their strength. He needed them now, more than ever. He felt their hatred lash at his back and sink teeth into his arms, drawing blood in his mind's eye. It all happened so fast. He could only pray invoking their spirits would be enough.

Electricity hummed insidiously in the charging air.​

Focus.

Focus.

Focus.​

His fingers fanned outwards, heralding his strain upon a bloody cry, rocking his body unsteadily. White lighting spouted from his fingers, weaving itself into a crackling shield meant as both defensive and offensive measure. He could do nothing else but stand there and exhaust himself into the effort of protecting and striking back against the ships- feeling for those who ventured too close and lashing them down with spears of electricity before they could overwhelm his position.

Stormtroopers belonging to other battalions clustered behind him swiftly, seeking the shelter he provided from the crashing death raining above.

On the north end of the city, defiant lighting clapped back at the raining Sith forces, and the storm sent to devastate them. It shielded those beneath it for as long as Halketh's waning strength could hold out for and struck back, blasting the closer of the encroaching ships out of the air.

His mind drew into a flatline.​

ALLIES | DEAD MEN | NIO | GA | DECEASED Erskine Barran Willan Tal DT-0800 Konrad Bolter 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

 

[Sith Dominance]

Objective: Establish Space Superiority
Location: Space
Allies: TSE
Support: Audax Class Cruiser | Dramath Class Strike Frigate | Broodica Class Star Destroyer | Autarch Class Siege Breaker | Caedus Class Superiority Fighter
Enemies: NIO / GA
Tags: Jaeger Harrsk | Fiolette Fortan | Caarlyle Rausgeber | Gunnar Madine | Gallius Orcana | Zeradias Mant | Arcturus Tal | Melia Siari | Naier Rambeigh

".. Sir, what are your orders?"

Admiral Siege continued to watch the monitors. Behind his mask, confusion filled his gaze. There was.. Chaos. No unity with the fleets of either side. No, that wasn't the case. There was a third party fighting against both the Empire and the new Imperials? "Chchchchch. There is something off with this battle. We already have to face superior numbers of both the New Imperials. Whatever this.. Third group is, it isn't to be underestimated. We have simply been learning, corporal."

"But Sir, our allies. And what of the fleet already engaging us?"

The masked visor of the Harch turned to the man speaking. Cold, expressionless. To his left the small number of ships he had were already engaged with the enemy, trading fire.

"We've already lost a cruiser, and one of our frigates is going down."

"You worry too much corporal. Are the cannons online?"

"Yes, but-"

"Fire them upon the enemy star destroyer."

The man paused for a moment, then nodded once. The Harch chittered once again as his attention turned to the monitors. This third party would prove the most difficult to work against. Especially with everyone in this battle using star destroyers. At least the beacons from them flew the correct colors.

"Cannons firing."

Siege pulled his gaze away to watch as the orbital autocannons opened fired upon the Eminence of Autumn. "Scramble fighters. Be ready to intercept bombers and launch the sabotage droids for their other ships. I believe it's time for the.." There was another chittering sound, though this one came across far more as a chuckle. "Hammer to fall upon these traitors."

 

[Tavius Muuaji]

Carannia | COMPFORCE
Sinestra

How many operations? How many people had they killed together? It was a given that he knew what Arno’s reaction was going to be. The mystical energies of the Force that bound them all together was unneeded to figure out what was coming next.

Chit. Slip up. Tavius thought before Arno’s hand found his shoulder and jerked him around.

"Since when do we care about residents, Muajii?"

Tavius’ brow furrowed behind the helmet.Was it the job talking? Did he abide by it that much? That as soon as they working, what happened… What they did didn’t matter? But no, Tavius knew better. Even when the helmets were off, Arno was the same. No guilt, forgetful. Did he even remember? Collateral? Tavius shook his head when Arno’s fist rapped across his helmets surface. The repeated thudding was muted, barely heard behind the thoughts that were deafening.

A true realization to the way of life he had willingly taken part in.

“Since when…?”

“Since when?!” Tavius said. His hands fell away from his rifle. Raising up at his sides, careless. Their haphazard waving the avatars for his emotion, as the words fell from his expressionless helmet. The blackened metal, the blacker than black visor stared back at Arno as he raised a hand, pointing his index and middle finger at him.

“Always! Dantooine, Shili, Archais, the rest! Every single one.

But you never did. Did you? Just more bodies, right? They were all the same, weren’t they? It didn’t matter whether they were Sith, insurgents, rebels, whatever the feth you want to call ‘em, huh?”

He stepped forwards, planting his fingers into Arno’s chest and shoved him back, the force behind it, amplified by the metaphysical, cracked the duracrete of the building he was pushed into.

The Force… An ability that he had always been aware of, ever since he was young. He had known he had been different in the Lower Levels on Coruscant, and so did his leaders in the Shattered Skulls gang on Coruscant. They had known, and they had used him. Whether as an informant to glean intentions, or to persuade buyers to buy more. It was only when he found himself in the One Sith’s army, did he learn to hide it. And years later when he got to where he was at now? Arno was the only one who knew, and against protocol, he didn’t report him. For over a year, he knew, and he didn’t tell.

The Force Corps couldn’t be that bad. But to be some fanatical Force user? It couldn’t be much better than COMPNOR.

Why didn’t he tell? Tavius wondered. As he had countless times in the past.

Because he cares. He has to. Tavius thought.

But not enough.

“You’re telling me none of this matters? Look around you man! They’re flattening this whole place and you don’t fucking care?! You don’t feel anything?!”

Tavius could only shake his head. He should’ve known. He had seen the signs. He ignored them in order to feel better about himself. But over time it all built up. It was too much to hold back, and the guilty conscious, mercy kills, just to save lives from COMPNOR’s more nefarious operatives… It all amounted to this.

“You’re no better than the Sith…” He muttered in a low voice, backing away.

 

[Sinestra]

Carannia | COMPFORCE | Obj. II
Tavius Muuaji
DECEASED Erskine Barran

Arno glared at his brother-in-arms with cold eyes, colder than the soulless black visor of his helmet as Tavius raged into an unexpected tirade. Tavius planted his fingers on the senior commando’s chest and sent him slamming into the duracrete wall behind ripping the air out of his lungs and cracking bones.

The Force.

Tavius’ most sacred secret of which only the two knew about. The same secret Arno had vowed to his own self to protect and preserve by any means necessary, even if it cost him his life. In the depths of the frigid abyss that characterized his soul, Tavius Muajii stood like an anchor, a tether to the last piece of humanity in his existence.

“You’re telling me none of this matters? Look around you man! They’re flattening this whole place and you don’t fucking care?! You don’t feel anything?!”

“You’re no better than the Sith…”

He groaned from the pain flaring in his back but his glare remained unyielding; fixated on his furious comrade. He did not want this to go where it was headed because he knew that no matter what, in the end his loyalty to the Iron Sun would prevail.

“You’ve made extraordinary sacrifices to stop the Sith. All on your own accord.” he narrowed his eyes at the man.“All for the greater good.” he slowly gestured at the armageddon around them. The Sith crucifying the city to prevent the New Imperials from gaining an inch. Just like they did on Muunilinst, Mygeeto, Dubrillion - the whole Braxant lit on nuclear fire. There was no gray area in this conflict - you were either with us or against us.

 

[Aaran Tafo]

ALLIES: NIO, Jerec Asyr
OPPOSITION: TSE Xeykard Beric Layne
LOCATION: Palace.

If nothing else, Xeykard's appearance would only add emphasis to his point. The Sith would not care for something as risky as combat by champion. They would simply ruin this world if they could not have it. He could already feel it outside, death and chaos, tremors shaking the palace. The tiny pinpricks of light that were the the lives of individual soldiers being extinguished one by one.

A pointless waste of life.

He spared a glance back to Beric, not immediately rushing to Jerec's defense, feeling no need to babysit the Ithorian. They were a capable enough individual. Instead, his attention was on the other Jedi in the room. "You can feel it." He murmured. shaking his head slightly. "They won’t give up this world. They won’t care to make this a contest. The best course of action is to end things quickly and decisively." An ugly truth, but one people must accept. Let others debate philosophy, the morally correct actions one should take. They could do it all day.

And people around them would continue to suffer until they stopped talking and started acting.

Shifting his attention away from the one person present most dedicated to pacifism. The Warden of Peace made his way to Jerec's side, hand resting on the hilt of his blade. "Leave." It was a simple command; one aimed the newest arrival. "You gain nothing from fighting us here. You would be better suited defending your allies outside than fighting us." Slowly, he shrugged off the outer layers of his robe, letting his cloak fall to the ground behind him. Revealing his now bandaged face. The freshly blinded Knight slowly drew blade, his body falling into the opening stance of Soresu.

"I seek no conflict with you. But I will not allow you to harm anyone here." Two against one, it was clear enough that if Xeykard decided to commit to this fight, Aaran would join in.

"Leave."

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

POST IX
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 Rika Hiro
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 17 - Chatter in the Dark I

<"Barran to QM One! Put young Gould on, I'd like to congratulate him personally.">

'Yes, Milord. And do stay safe down there, will you? QM One out!', Leftenant Archer replied, sitting in the dark like all his own and Barran's subordinates. Turning to pass the comm-device to Private Gould, Archer patted him on the shoulder and put the device into the young Heartlander's right hand before walking off to leave Gould to chat with his lifelong hero in peace. With a slow, heavy strolling canter, the QMs' commander would let his sharpshooting subordinate decide which distance was considered enough in privacy, judging by the resonating-thumps of Archer's receding footsteps alone. Turning back to offer advice, Archer said,'Be polite, be considerate of his situation.', in his lilting Archaisian accent before rotating back towards the direction he was leaving in.

'Gould to Blue-Heart Alpha! I was told to man the comm-device, figured you could use the distraction from the - errr... The current situation, for want of a better term and of a better current situation.'

<"Aye, you an' me both! Good to hear a real Woad accent, though. Whit toun, Private?">

'Gould to Blue-Heart Alpha! Forston-Hailes, Barran Valley. Born an' raised a Forster army-brat, ran awa' fi hame at the age o' fifteen. Shugg kept me on base, training until I was old enough to enlist properly. I finally got to ship out just last week, an' it just so happened that I had a high enough aptitude to join the QMs. An' here I am, kicking back wae aw the flies, eary-wigs an' cockroaches, chattin' away with the very reason I ran away fae hame t'begin wae.'

The lad didn't mean for it to be blurted out like that, but it was the truth nonetheless, and it had been laid out on the proverbial table with a resounding slam. Not knowing the strength of his words, the Woad-born private wouldn't know what sort of hurts could be inflicted by them yet; all who Gould had been honest with before were of sterner, harsher untested temperaments that seemingly let most harshness slip by unnoticed, like water running off a duck's flapping wing-feathers. However, to Barran's credit and Gould's surprise, the Lord-Commander had taken it well, and understood what the lad was trying to say on it all. The private had travelled and toiled to make it to the crucible, and didn't want it all to end under a cave-in, he just wanted to prove his true worth to one being dubbed,"The Stormchaser", by those in the know of the Brigadier-General's recent achievements.

<"Forston-Hailes.... Feels like a lifetime ago when I last got drunk there, just so damned local it was perfect. An' you're right to hold me accountable for letting you down, Gould. Chasing intrigue was never my style, an' I let my curiosity get the better of me before the end of my recent Wild-Goose chase, but I learned a lot during and after the process an'aw. We can win like we have in the past, we can exceed our former glories, so don't go losing hope on me. Not after all you've done on your first day of real soldiering, eh?">

'I promise I'll keep fighting for as long as you need me to, Milord. I want you to see Barran House from the summit o' Brennan's Rest for yersel, even if it'll be the hardest fight of all t'make it there. Scope Nine out!'

The Fight For Carannia: Part 18 - Chatter in the Dark II

Good lad.... Just stay alive, my young Hailesman. Sick t'the back teeth o' losing people as it is!

Thinking on the sincerity of the young QM's words, pondering what his estate looked like from atop his home-province's highest peak as he waited for the Saga's crew to arrive in the maintenance transport tunnels near the inner-city's western districts. Half a galaxy away from home, inundated with surface-level destruction from the Amalgam's mass swarm of TIE-squadrons, and the cataclysmic lightning storms that ripped up the earth with the endless thudding of the dark-haired woman's ill-considered bombardments of the entire city. His firstborn son, and heir to Barran House's domains, was dead, along with everyone who'd served under his guidance during the Second Battle of Bastion, (all but Gowrie, though the truth of that still hung in the balance of life and death as the hours passed) a wicked weight for any Lord-Commander to be carrying on his shoulders at such a time, especially one with no outlet for his stresses but whiskey and warfighting. One could forgive Barran for breaking down like he had on Ziost, but he'd just found a Fortaner cigar in his inside jacket pocket, along with a little matchbox with House Fortan's coat of arms printed on the back end.

'Three matches left? Yaldy!'

Lighting it up as the city above crumbled to ash, the flavour and smoke would come to life on his tastebuds, bringing back memories of life on the homeworld as the cacophony of death echoed off the walls of Carannia's massive array of maintenance and transport tunnel-networks. The burning orange glow of the Fortaner would reveal the bled-out corpses of two soldiers from opposing sides of the battle for Serenno, telling of a small truce in the dark to die peacefully with a friend, two departing souls seeking a small mercy in a city of the dead and undead alike. One was a Sith-Legionnaire, the other was a rather tall New-Imperial rifleman, and both had taken shrapnel wounds to their entire abdomens; the matchlight (for all but ten seconds) would show a depressing sight of the dead who sat adjacent to him, disappearing into their makeshift catacomb as the match was tossed away to the dirty ground.
Sights like this, they're enough to break even the hardest of hearts. An' this one's gonna haunt me for the rest of my life.

'Unironically the only warriors to die in deserved peace today, and in the crucible of all places. Peace be with you, gentlemen.'

There was no pleading in the postures of either men, and no sign of struggle either, just two soldiers who'd died with calm and acceptance in their hearts as they went, and the respect Erskine had for the dead warriors before him served as a little depressive dipping point, with bottom lip quivering as his arm and shoulder ached from shrapnel wounds of his own by the time his cigar had dimly-illuminated their faces for the fifth time since he first saw them. Using his last personal stim to numb the pain, the heartache Barran felt in seeing the peaceful dead still somehow remained like a stabbing shock to his soul, though the Lord-Commander expected it would remain. All his grief would bubble up to the surface as his eyes started watering, poorly held back by the clenching of his jaw and emotionally-shaky exhalations, leaving Erskine a teary ball of fury for a few minutes as he tried his utmost to channel all that dismay into something effective again.

<"Murdoch to Blue-Heart Alpha! We'll be there in roughly five minutes, Milord. Hold tight an' we'll be there before ye know it.">

'Barran to Saga Actual! Good news, Murdo. Though I'll ask that you pick up the pace, as it genuinely feels like Death himself followed me down here. Could use that life-like chatter, truth be told, but we both know the comm-silence would be safer. Just be quick about it, an' perhaps we'll discuss my buying your commission when ye get here.'

<"Copy that, Milord. Hang in there, an' stay out o' sight. Saga Actual out!">

The Fight For Carannia: Part 19 - Chatter in the Dark III

As the light of the lightly-repaired ACV's search lamp made contact with his eyes, Erskine would shield them from the glare of the light as the occupants shouted their challenge,'PIRATES!', as Murdoch and his colleagues stepped out with rifles shouldered and pointed in Erskine's general direction. Of all the magic, death and demonic madness that had been happening until then, it was fairly obvious that the Saga's newly-appointed crewmen didn't want to take any chances of subterranean trickery taking them by blood-lusting surprise, and their Lord-Commander smirked, knowing their plight-driven suspicions and understanding them completely.

'TO THE WEST!', the Brigadier-General hollered with a cigar-toting wave, just happy there was light again to adjust his eyes to. Seeing the barrels drop and helmets being removed to pay respects to the peaceful-fallen warriors, Imperials both in life, Imperials both in death, even if they were on opposite sides of the war, and all the Saga's crewmen were being affected by it in the same way it affected Barran. Despite the Blue-Heart trait of despising weakness, the men of Galidraan 3 & 4 still had hearts in them to be affected by such harrowing moments, and had considered the fact Lord Erskine had been sitting in their presence since he first answered Murdoch's comm-hails; especially in seeing how close he'd been sitting across from them when they arrived on the scene, deciding then and there to let Murdoch bring the Lord-Commander back inside the Saga whilst the others silently paid their respects.

'It's time t'dome the freaks who would perpetuate this struggle against the New Order, lads! The Sith Empire will always make stuff like this look like it was ultimately our doing, an' every damned time as well; like they always have, since the moment they fired their first nuclear shots against the New Order in desperation! But first, cover these men with our spare jackets before we leave, an' then yees can pay yer respects before we even think about getting the Saga back t'the surface again.'

As he was helped up the steps and in beyond the sliding Sloane-door, the Brigadier-General's eyes wandered over to the map holographics on the opposite side, but what Barran saw forced him to look away again in disgust; and then, as Murdo laid him on his side to examine the shrapnel wounds, Erskine became fully aware of the gravity of the situation he was in, and would slowly start to loathe every last second of it as the minutes passed him by. Once the other crewmen had done their duty in covering the corpses and paying their respects in turn, they'd return to offer help in applying first-aid to their Lord-Commander, all working in the hopes they could help enough to keep Erskine in the fight.

In time, after repairing the worst of the damage to the best of their stitching abilities for the best part of two hours, the Lord-Commander would be left alone with an ice-pack on his head (reducing the swelling from the exploding-Nuetralizers incident to make diagnoses on the move) and a nagging urge to get back on the comm-link unit, mulling over how best to turn a ground-altitude battle in near-defeat to a resounding counterattack victory. Knowing Barran's ways, once the throbbing had subsided properly in his head it wouldn't take long for his nano-managing ways to take the forefront of his mind, so Murdo's silence had inadvertently worked wonders for a man in need of all the silence to think properly, especially in the pinnacle moments of an invasion that could've gone either way for the Sith and New Imperials on the ground.

'Barran to Lionheart Actual! Taken shrapnel trying to get underground, but I've linked up with my ACV Crew and we intend to return to the surface. My shoulder and tricep have been peppered with armour-debris, but the lads are ripping it all out before we get moving. I'll be fine, just get the Blood-Red Lion at the ready! An' have every unit available fix bayonets, it's time.... We should counterattack at your order, Milord. An' counterattack for the glory of God, Galidraan, and the New Order! It is genuinely the best time to throw everything we are at these Sith-Imperial freaks! Trust me, stranger things have happened to us, and stranger yet will happen to us for the rest of our lives, Milord.'
​

​

 

[Rurik Fel]

M A N _ O F _ I R O N
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
LORD EXECUTOR
KNIGHTS OF THE EMPIRE
Iron Skin | Lightsaber

DEATH IS NOT THE EXIT
​

The feeling of death, the end. It all permeated around him in a violent envelopment willed through the Force. Carannia was burning before, it was smoldering now. The Sith, ever the merciless had wrought it worthy of the annihilation and while within this buried corridors he could not witness the destruction himself, the visions of suffering pierced his mind. It struck through the cold and callaced exterior of the Man of Iron into the human heart beneath, his sacred vulnerable mortal shell. The tortured body.

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."

The words threw him from the swirling clouds of death that swirled in his mind, his unbreakable focus and determination...broken. It was a necessary measure. He was playing a dangerous game, dancing a dangerous dance. For the first time, he willingly gave himself over to the passion, not the mere desire of vengeance, but the compulsive need for it. The saturation bombardment centered him, humbling the Lord Executor down to his mortal circumstances once more as he faced Laertia, the Black Knight.

"And now...they bathe Serenno in hellfire...I will not field these delusions any longer. My aim is clear and so is my enemy..." Rurik said, narrowing his gaze through the iron visage as she began her flurry of blows toward him. In the stance of the Vornskr, the ouroboros of the darkness where the gnashing bite of the serpent would only feast on its own tale, he channeled the dark power Xiphos impended down unto him with back into her as he worked to meticulously match each strike she wrought onto him, though a few chipped and bit into the Iron Skin-

He would endure.

"You will not break iron, Laertia Io." Rurik muttered out in defiance before he willed a miasma of energy to his organic hand. The lightning then streamed from his splayed fingertips in a furious shock aimed toward Laertia as he continued to pace the encounter through the corridor, hoping to incapacitate her before lunging forward, taking advantage of the chaotic strike to thrust the argent blade toward her abdomen.

ALLIES | NIO | Lucien Dooku | Hans Rennagen | Kainan | Dorian Sicarrio | Dorin Nalju | Lilith Dooku | Adron Malvern | Tiadu
ENEMIES | TSE | Grand Moff Decimus | Laertia Io |OPEN TO DISTRIBUTE TURBO

​

 

[Gallius Orcana]

ALLIES | NIO | GA | NJO | Caarlyle Rausgeber | Fiolette Fortan | Jaeger Harrsk | Naier Rambeigh |Gunnar Madine | Arcturus Tal | Jivim Vaak
ENEMIES | TSE | EE | CIS | Sith Dominance | Thaelius | Zeradias Mant | Melia Siari


NIV PRIDE OF THE EMPEROR

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
FIFTH FLEET

ENTER THE WALKYRIES
​

The boarding crafts were flying through hell. Supported by the Azure Hammer Command, the TodHusars had one goal : reach the Tregessar. Gallius knew the conflict between the Stossjägers, the Iron Empire and the CompForce would be so intense the Imperials could let Zeradias gain a solid foothold aboard the flagship, retrieve whatever had lured him in, and escape, inflicting serious losses to the Imperials. Moreover, Gallius was guilty of having sheparded Zeradias in that situation. He was responsible, and he felt the urge to act : he could no longer watch the battle from a command bridge.

He wanted to taste blood.

As the crafts were put to the limit of their agility, facing the fire of the Iron Empire fleet, Gallius witnessed squads disappear in explosions, bright clouds that vanished instantaneously. He was putting the Anaxsi in danger, but such was the mission of a commander. He made the tough choice to launch an attack while the anti-aircraft capabilities of the Iron Empire were still active, and had to assume the consequences. It was almost suicide to fly in such conditions, but Orcana trusted Jax and his vessels. He had faith in his second-in-command, and in his capacities to lead the battle. All he had to do was to crush Zeradias's ships, and deploy a cover of fighters.

Such cover would be welcomed, as Iron Empire fighters and drones began chasing his combat box. The dozen shuttles were almost helpless against fast and agile opponents, and one by one, they were taken out. Gallius's shuttle went crazy trying to avoid the fighters, but was eventually hit. Gallius swore, well aware the boarding point was some hundred meters away. The shuttle began to throb, then flew left and right, the pilot unable to keep control of the movements.

The fighters went back, redoing an attack run. Loudly, Gallius swore again, the hangar now almost reached. If they could hold for ten sec...

The shuttle did not hold. Hit repeatedely by the pair of fighters, a wing was severed and flew backwards as the pilot was killed. The automated systems tried to correct the trajectory, the craft accelerated, Orcana's vision became blurred... There was a BANG! and a distinctive sound of crash, the nose of the shuttle buried in the floor of the hangar.

Finally, the TodHusars were there.

CURSED BE IRON ​

The Anaxsi soldiers began to secure the tiny foothold they had, and crafts began to land next to Gallius's crashed shuttle. None of the assault vessels was intact, and many were missing. From what Gallius understood, the TodHusars had been scattered across the portside of the Tregessar, and had suffered losses during their charge to reach the flagship. For now, Gallius had lost a quarter of his men, his forces totaling seven companies of paratroopers.

The Commodore gathered his men and began his march towards the command bridge. Even before leaving the hangar, droids were on them. The tough fight was not in favor of the TodHusars at first, but slowly, the Imperials began to gain ground, and their progression was soon resumed. The Iron Empire was well aware that pockets of paratroopers were now trying to join the Stossjägers ans CompForce, and Gallius knew the fight would be tough.

He did not try to contact anyone. If he wanted to be a good diversion for Rausgeber to profit from, he would have to engage his soldiers into the worst secnario they could ever face : grinding attrition. The paratroopers were not suited for these fights, but the Commodore was willing to buy the Tregessar's crew as much time as possible for them to push the Iron Empire away.

"Come and get me, Zeradias !" Gallius grinned. He was content at last. If he were to die on that ship, his mission would be done, and done well. "Alright soldiers ! We do not wish to hold the position ! We gotta move forward and profit of our surprise effect before the droids realise what we're up to. Objective : join the Imperials."

And with that, the TodHusars began their march to death and glory.

Spoiler: Azure Hammer Command - Fleet Composition - Engaging Zeradias Mant

• NIV Pride of the Emperor, Cuirassier-class Cruiser
• NIV Proudheart, Valiant-class Cruiser
• NIV Conqueror, Cuirassier-class Cruiser
• NIV Revanchist, Donnager-class Star Destroyer
• NIV Faith of Steel, Donnager-class Star Destroyer
• NIV Fury of Kraig, Escolta-class Frigate
• NIV Imperial Hand, Caçadores-class Corvette
• NIV Eternal Crusader, Caçadores-class Corvette

 

[Viers Connory]

//: Objective 2 //:
//: Alina Tremiru //:
//: W A R R I O R S //:

​

The tip of the saber gliding against the armor surprised Viers. Her eyes widened as the ion blade danced against the undamaged armor. In her youth and all her training that led to this moment, she believed the lightsaber to be the greatest weapon a Jedi could wield. Yet, this sith had something that rendered the weapon ineffective.

Her feet danced, one over the other backpedaling to avoid the potential counter of the woman’s long weapon. The lightsaber batted away like an annoying pest; Viers needed to think fast. Despite her footwork, the brute force that drove Alina caught the Corellian off guard. Nothing was like their first battle; the Knight was precise and battle-hardened.

Viers took the blow to her stomach, air forced out of her, causing the pain to tremble through her body. She felt her knees buckle as she gasped for the lost air. “Chit,” she groaned as she raised the hilt of her blade. Over and over, she slammed the weapon into the helmet of the Sith. The attack was frantic as her free hand clutched at the Sith’s throat, attempting to hold her in place.

“I’ll never be like you. I won’t - I won’t like this, I--” The mask broke, the lovable idiot that Viers masqueraded as shattered in front of the monster. “You.” she paused as she tried to keep the cries of death from swallowing her mind forcing her to remember.

“You took everything -- everything from me.” Her voice quivered. Viers doing her best to keep her connection cut off from anyone. She didn't want to feel their deaths or their fear. The typical playful nature shattered like glass and left only the scared girl who feared for her life.​

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

T H E _ W O L F
THE GALACTIC ALLIANCE
104th MARINE BATTALION 'WOLFPACK'
Jedi Jumpsuit | Concord Brawn | Blade of Ruusan
Loske Treicolt | CLOSED

THE PIECES FIT
​

The fear and the emotional strain was all deeply intensified by the aura of death that permeated through Carannia. All around them, the annihilation. Even as the smoke rose and ash descended on this proud city, Maynard could still only focus on her. This deep fear and the signal she reached out through the Force to grasp ahold of what was buried deepest in these moments. The catalyst that allowed him to prevent himself from slipping further.

Loske.

trust me

She reached through to him at the precipice of the foundations of his already faltering consciousness and burrowed the grounding, smoothed the descent. It prevented him from sinking into those deep, dark and primal fears again. To focus on what need be done. He was so close, too close to the precipice of freeing her to all but collapse at the gates.

Always

He reached back through to her, grabbing and pulling unto the resilient tether that crossed the stars and shone through the darkness, to keep them as one. Together. Always, together.

The ethereal path faded the crimson into flourishing blue again...and the gruesome vision of a blade in his hands through Loske's stomach...now warped into Ruusan plunging into the heart of the evil within. The vision did nothing to put him at ease

She spoke once, maintaining the mantra he'd driven into his own thoughts, no doubt compounded by Ruusan, the venerable blade of Ashla he clutched in his hands still.

May. Don’t let go.

The plea, the all but demand was desperate, bleeding through her vantablack shackles.

The Blade reaffirmed.

You know what is right, Maynard...you know your enemy and you must do what need be done. Ruusan willed to him again. The blade spoke as if it reaffirmed the duty he'd now burdened in wielding this weapon. With it, he held the sacred weight of obligation on his shoulders. To cleanse the darkness...restore the light. As the blackened sinews ripped and thrashed at his mortal shell he was quick to lurch back to the mortal struggle between himself and Shursia, swiping the cobalt through those darkened spectral limbs before they'd slipped through the guard and grasped his throat violently, tuned in synchronicity with more of these horrid visions flooding his subconsciousness, pulling them from forsaken depths to pineal realizations.

The breadth of failure, seeing the light of Ryv fading violently, wrought by his own failure. His own failure to protect another he cared more, cut with the same grain as the illusion of Loske that plagued his thoughts moments prior. This cut as deep as those vantablack digits raked into the flesh of his throat he grasped and clawed for breath, the cobalt blade fading back into the hilt as he seemed to give himself up to Shursia, yielding the quarter to invoke more of her assault. He kept Ruusan tightly held in his hand before he set the opposite unto where Loske had guided him.

To the more vital. He screwed his eyes shut, bearing down unto the pain that seared through his mortal flesh and sought that point with his open hand, the sole organic vessel of which he could still will the Force with his fullest control. He beared his grip down into the ebon sinew bound to Loske's flesh.

And he sought to rip it all away in one sudden lurch. To get through it all. To get back to her.

 

[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

There it was. The tipping point for any Jedi. When the calm gave way to raw emotion and fear. The first crack of the saber hilt caught Alina off guard. Viers was more like a cornered animal than a person. Her vision dazed for a moment. Blood dripped down her face behind her mask. But her hand came up, snatching the Padawan's wrist. Her other hand came around to take hold of Veir's throat in turn, a far more crushing weight behind the grasp as she went to fully lift the girl off the ground.

"I've taken nothing from you, girl." The modulated tone of Alina's voice glitched, wavering from lower tones to higher ones. She twisted Vier's wrist to get the saber dropped before reaching up. Taking off the broken helmet. Blood dripped from a wound on her forehead, creating a line of scarlet on her otherwise pale features.

"But I will give you a gift." Then, like before, the Force died. Severed at it's roots around the young woman. Cutting her off from the waves of death she was so desperate to avoid feeling. "The Jedi send children to fight. Against the children the Sith send to fight. Children killing children. Tell me." She turned and rather violently threw Viers towards one of the nearby buildings. Despite cutting the Force off, her strength hadn't seemed to fade.

"Why is it children die in place of their masters?"

 

[Gunnar Madine]

​

OPERATION WINTERVOID
TASKFORCE REGENT FORCE
S E R R E N O O R B I T
NIV RECALCITRANT
Allies: Caarlyle Rausgeber | Naier Rambeigh | Fiolette Fortan |
Enemies: Zeradias Mant | Jaeger Harrsk (?) | Gallius Orcana (!)

For a fleeting moment Madine and his small flotilla of Corvettes had turned tail, an effort to avoid some of the heaviest fire they were taking from the Iron Empire's drone fighters. It was almost unfair. The drones coordinated, looped, dipped, and dove faster and more coordinated than any organic fighter complement. Sure, it meant that they were somewhat more predictable but even so they didn't suffer from adrenaline, emotion, or fatigue. Madine's Corvettes still managed to carve up their fair share of the drones but the losses were mounting. Only a handful of ships remained in any real serviceable condition and with the lack of support from Orcana's forces.. no.. not only the lack of support but the appearance of abject negligence. "Tunnel vision." Gunnar sneered audibly. "Course correction." he stated flatly. "All vessels converge on the Pride of the Emperor. Get me a line to their bridge. Now."

Even as the NIV Recalcitrant began to make a sweeping turn, things had been set in motion that could not be undone. Azure Hammer Command had redirected their course and pursued after the recently microjumped target. That would have been fine had the void of space been empty, no fighters, corvettes, cruisers, or otherwise to be considered but the maneuver had been made in haste and in eagerness. Of course the vessels of the fleet had crash avoidance systems, what modern ships of the fleet didnt? Even so, high speed aggressive manuevers coupled with the high density of ships and debris meant that the alarms were going of in perpetuity - it was up to the helm to determine which alerts to pay attention to and which ones to ignore.

"Sir, we've just lost the Verdant Dawn and the Calliope! Azure Hammer Command turned right into them!"

"What?!" Madine growled, eyes snapping on to the tactical display.

"They're heading directly towards the aft of that Stormwolf-class vessel off the port bow of the Tregessar."

Gunnar's fists clenched, eyes struggling to believe what he'd just witnessed. The ignorance. The inexperience. The audacity. Things often got muddled in space, neat lines turned into a mess of dursteel and turbolaser fire. A mess of fighters and debris. This was different. His fellow Commodore had been all too eager to sink his teeth into the remnants of the Iron Empire, too focused on the task at hand to see the bigger picture and now it had cost him - It had cost Gunnar resources, ships. It had cost Imperial lives. "Where's that line?" he scowled. "Online sir." came the reply.

:: NIV Pride of the Emperor, this is Commodore Madine. I am taking administrative command of your vessel - Commodore Orcana has been relieved of his post effective immediately. Grand Admiral Rausgeber has given me the authority to direct the assault. Cease your assault run and establish a fighter screen between the Tregessar and the Iron Empire's drones. ::

Whether or not it was the truth of the matter, Madine only needed them to believe it. For what it mattered, it hadn't been a complete falsification. The Grand Admiral had given him some authority but perhaps not to the degree he had implied with the current officer in charge of the Pride of the Emperor. At this point it wasn't about who was in charge so much as Madine's firm belief that to be a viable naval commander, one had to be on the bridge of a command vessel instead of gallivanting about on boarding shuttles and in the company of soldiers. Though Orcana's fleet now began to push forwards in support, it was little recompense in Madine's mind. He spoke again into the direct beam comm to Pride of the Emperor.

:: We need to eliminate these drones before they sink their teeth into Azure Hammer. Keep my corvettes between you and the enemy drones. ::

Madine was seething, the loss of his ships due to the total lack of fighter screens previously promised, the inattentive and almost maniac manuevers costing him more ships in collisions with the vessels of Azure Hammer Command, the chaos that had been sown at the hands of what he could only suspect was COMPNOR. Someone would pay for this but for now his attention was focused on the drones of the Iron Empire. "Get to work on those drones, get our corvettes closer together - no more losses because of ineptitude." he sneered as he issued commands upon his own bridge. Now they would test their mettle against the wash of drones headed their direction.

 

[Viers Connory]

//: Objective 2 //:
//: Alina Tremiru //:
//: D A U N T L E S S //:

​

Alina’s fingers dug into the tender flesh of the padawan, who gasped for air. Feet kicking slightly while Alina lifted her from the ground, showing the strength difference between them. Despite her effort, she couldn’t keep the saber in her hand. Weakness and fear forced the Jedi to abandon the weapon as it hit the ground with a thud. Viers needed both of her hands to tug and try and free herself from the grip of the monster.

Suddenly, the voices of the dying disappeared from her mind. Relief came over her face as she looked at the Sith. Whatever the woman had done, it was enough to bring peace to the padawan - one that she struggled to keep on the battlefield. Just as quickly as peace came, it disappeared. Viers’ eyes widened as she listened to what Alina had to say, and before she could croak an answer out, the pressure around her neck disappeared.

Her body flung like a rag doll, Viers tried to summon the Force to her aid but realized exactly what Alina had done. Abandoned by the Force, Viers braced herself, knowing the pain would be unbearable. Bone against stone, the padawan’s body, barreled through the weakened wall. Rubble collapsed around her, but no sound came from her. Alina’s words echoed over and over in her mind.

‘Get up, girl. If your mother could see you, she’d be disappointed’ An older woman’s voice echoed over the strong breeze that blew against them. A younger Viers picked herself up from the moss and dirt-covered ground, groaning. The old woman was a harsh tutor, cold and calloused - constantly wanting more out of the younger woman.

‘There will be times when you no longer want to continue. Times where giving up just seems to be a better route - a safer route. You can’t give up, never. Because if you do - our time together would have been a waste.’

Viers fell again as the strain of the weighted pack threatened to bury her into the soft ground. Another nagging comment, and suddenly Viers found her feet dangling. ‘You are a scrawny little thing, aren’t you.’ Viers laughed as she looked at the old woman’s face.

‘Yes. But don’t all heroes start out like this?’

The dust cleared, and the chunks of the wall started to move. One cement block after another toppled over, and Viers’ battered frame slowly stood up. Blood and dirt mixed against her tongue. She spat, and an arm wiped away the gunk that clung to her lower lip while vibrant chestnut eyes never looked away from the vampire.

“My master died protecting me. My mother died protecting this galaxy from monsters like you.” Her voice darker than previously, and each word was enunciated with each step she took towards Alina. The fear that she had seen on the girl’s face gone - replaced with a renewed fever. Viers walked to where the saber was and picked it up. The weapon found its place against her belt. “Don’t you dare say another word about the cowardice of Masters.” Another step forward, and Viers closed the gap between them with speed. Having trained without the Force, she knew how to fight without it - the girl before Alina was something else, something different. There was a deadly calm to her as she swung with precision towards the woman’s face while the other arm guarded her side.​

 

[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

Alina watched the rubble only for a couple moments. The Force made many super human, but without it Viers was little more than a young woman. Going through the wall and being buried should of been enough. A commoner certainly wouldn't of gotten up. She turned her back on the scene, ready to find another to punish in this war. The vampire stopped where she was, slowly turning her head with a curious brow raised. A second soon joined as she was plenty surprised by the sight.

Bruised and battered, cut off from the one thing that gave Jedi power, the Padawan stood.

Despite herself, a grin widened across the woman's features. As surprised as she was to see the padawan up and about, the excitement was there. The thrill of battle against someone who could fight back. What should of been a finished fight was no where close to it's end. Alina turned fully to face Viers, watching. Allowing her foe to pick up the dropped saber.

She wanted, no, needed to see just how strong Viers could be.

Once the saber was hooked to her waist though the curious brow raised. Was she done fighting?

"I am nothing more than the result of this war you wage. These monsters you want to defeat, you and your masters made them."

Crack!

The punch slammed right into the side of Alina's face. Her head turned from the blow, but she stayed upright. Her gaze flicked back to Viers, just out of the corner of her eye.

"Your Jedi Masters sit in their temple while you wage war." Then she was gone. Alina slipped under the fist against her cheek, right into Viers's guard once again. She brought around her own fist in a powerful blow. Fangs exposed with the sheer joy this fight was bringing her.

"Our Sith Lords have abandoned us! There's no difference between you or me. We're the result of a war we weren't even meant to fight!"

 

[Viers Connory]

//: Objective 2 //:
//: Alina Tremiru //:
//: D A U N T L E S S //:

​

Her punch connected, and she could feel the shift of the bones in Alina's jaw as her head snapped with the punch. Viers pulled her arm back, preparing for another strike, but the Vampire was faster. The woman slipped and invaded her guard. While the padawan would typically freak out, the cold calculations twisted in her mind. Alina's words fell upon the girl's ears, and she cracked a grin through her bloodied lips.

"You poor thing, do you need a tissue to wipe your tears?" Viers quipped mockingly to the Sith.

The mighty fist from Alina burned into the forearm of the Corellian. She could feel the inhuman strength behind Alina's attack. While the pain shook her to the core, Viers' face showed no sign of it, remaining emotionless, except for the grin.

"There is no similarity between us; I accept the failures of the Jedi - while I disagree with their current practices. I will fight for what the Light stands for, not for what the Masters preach." She stepped closer, between Alina's stance, reaching forward, she feigned a grapple, while her foot raised high enough to drive a kick to the inside of the Sith's knee. Each fluid motion of the Corellian only telegraphed her study of the Echani arts - something that she learned recently was in her blood.

Instead of grabbing at the armor's fabric, Viers aimed to drive her fist into the mouth of the fanged beast.

There was no fear, for it led down a path the padawan knew she couldn't take. Instead, she found serenity in the Force; even without it, she could feel its influence.

Faith carried her forward.​

 

[Tavius Muuaji]

Carannia | COMPFORCE
Sinestra

“You’ve made extraordinary sacrifices to stop the Sith. All on your own accord.”

Tavius closed his eyes and shook his head. Not the same drivel that COMPNOR fed the masses. Arno knew better than that. Tavius had seen what was behind the curtains, had taken part in the work behind the proverbial fabric, and what he saw and partook in disgusted him. It was wrong, what they did. The killings, many of them... Most were justified, he had convinced himself of that. Sith and cultists... They were a threat he was content with slaughtering en masse. No one would ever find him complaining about them.

But the beings that resisted the encompassing grip of the Imperial fist?

Could he say they were justified in that?

Tavius' brow furrowed, and he reached up to take his helmet off. The heat was building up, he felt like he was burning in that suit.

“All for the greater good.”

"There is no greater good in this chit." As the words fell from his mouth, he shoved his arms outward, his helmet crashing into the duracrete at Arno's feet. "It'd be worth it if we were on Dromund Kaas instead of Serenno."

"We're fighting these creatures with magic, day in, day out. Damn magical artillery falling out of the skies, and you want to keep going?!" Again, he shook his head, but a mirthless laugh fell from his lips. "Nah... I'm done with this. Kill whoever you think you ought to, 'for the greater good.'

I quit."

 

[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

"See? That's exactly what I mean! We don't fight for our masters. We fight for what we believe in. I fight to keep the new generation of Sith alive and safe from your Jedi's blades!" There was something truly cathartic about trading blows and practically screaming at someone. Not that she'd ever admit it to the Jedi. Her knee buckled under the impact of the foot against it, but the fist she caught. Alina's grin remained as she tightened her grip around Vier's wrist to a bone bruising degree.

Then she dropped the dead zone. Alina could feel the flow around them. The death. The smile faded as she tapped into that. One by one the people struggling to survive, the ones on deaths door, their lights went out. Consumed. The Sangnir got stronger with every light that went out, her yellow eyes burning with the unnatural darkness of what she was doing.

"Feel the deaths your actions bring, and tell me you can shoulder it."

 

[Sinestra]

Carannia | COMPFORCE | Obj. II
Tavius Muuaji

"To realize that all your life—you know, all your love, all your hate, all your memory, all your pain—it was all the same thing. It was all the same dream. A dream that you had inside a locked room. A dream about being a person. And like a lot of dreams there's a monster at the end of it."​

Arno merely glanced at Tavius' helmet tumbling down before his feet; his complete attention remained on his comrade. He knew where this was going and for the first time in decades a twinge of sorrow formed in his throat, a meager sign of humanity still flickering in his cold soul.

"I quit."

The senior commando clicked the side of his helmet, a hiss, and he, too, revealed his face. The obsidian helmet falling on the ground beside his legs. It cracked and tumbled away.

"The galaxy needs bad men, Tavius. We keep the other bad men from the door." he stated coarsely as the lump in his throat threatened to suffocate him but his words fell on deaf ears.

A long, painful minute passed in glares locked before Arno broke it, clearing his throat. He knew what had to be done. "You're a goddamn hero, you know that, kid?"

"Heroes have to make sacrifices. That's why when I ask you for one more, I hope you understand..."

"...it was never personal."

His hand snapped forward producing his side-arm, its hollow muzzle lined up with his former brother-in-arms' head.

Thunder rattled at the pull of the trigger heralding the final sacrifice.​