Faction High Patriotic Standards | NIO

[Zaavik Perl]

「MEATHOOK」
KNOW YOUR ENEMY
BASTION / RAVELIN
INCOGNITO
Hyperion | Darth Daiara
CLOSED

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The trigger clicked fruitlessly as his finger squeezed in a rhythmic fashion. His hand went limp, the blaster rolled off trembling fingers and clattered to the ground. Blood erupted from his mouth with a sudden hack. The pain lurched him forward, losing more upright presence as he fell to a second knee. A desperate hand clawed at the pain again, clutching over the fissure in his chest.

Straining against protesting agony, he gained one foot flat onto the ground and looked up. The clash had seemingly resolved so fast that a round-winner was decided before Zaavik could process. One pair of legs dangling while the others were planted was all the sign he needed.

One hand raised forward, fingers outstretched into a phantom of a grasping gesture. Teeth clenched together, forcing a focus past the pain and biological alarms of doom sounding in every vital part of his body. It practically fueled the exertion of his will that grasped around Aradia. With the force, he yanked her dangling form backward to abscond from his grasp.

In the same motion, his other arm thrashed to disrupt the ceiling above Abaddon, already damaged from the enemy'ss previous attempt to bury Zaavik. Rubble fell to the ground over the enemy. A body smacked into Zaavik's own, reacquainting him with the ground as he was momentarily pinned by lighter flesh. Pain jolted from his chest through every part of his body. A desperate inhale rasped aloud, one arm rolling Aradia off of him.

Eyes nearly bulging from his skull, he writhed and coughed in anguish. Rolling to one side, he picked himself up halfway with his forearms. Crimson hacked out of his mouth again and splattered onto the floor already smeared with ichor.

"We gotta-"

Wheeze.

"-delta the hell out of here-"

Gurgle. Cough.

"-before he wakes up again."

Pain became an engine. The furtive dark reeked from his presence. Growling, grunting, he forced himself to his feet with a hand over his wound. He stumbled, fell into the wall for support before righting himself again, and made for the door. Blood trailed and smeared along his path.

 

[Darth Daiara]

Aradia fell for it.

Abbadon's trick. Her blade embedded into his chest and he let his drop. What was that if not a mortal wound? The flow of her dance halted. She did not slid back. She did not recapture her distance. Her eyes held his as his flesh sizzled. It was all the chance he needed to reach for her throat.

She couldn't even make a sound, something broken and grinding against her damaged vocal cords. She could feel the pain now. Not even the force that sustained her could dull that.

Her legs kicked, the girl going to-- Something ripped her backwards. She collided into a body.

A single look at Zaavik was all it took for the urge to reengage to falter. Her eyes fell to his chest, widening in alarm. A ceiling came down in that moment. It was chaos, but one thought came to her clearer than all the rest.

They were out of their depths.

"We gotta-"

Wheeze.

"-delta the hell out of here-"

Gurgle. Cough.

"-before he wakes up again."

She hesitated, then relented with a nod voiceless. Better to regroup and survive, then overcommit and...

Well, she wasn't going to learn that lesson the hard way twice.

Her hands grabbed under his arms, lifting him up and helping through the door. The sound of his gurgling brought bumps across her skin. Her vision doubled. Her body screamed to lay down. Everything burned, from her lungs to the muscles she forced to keep moving. She compartmentalized it all into a box and let her anger fuel her.

Step

by

step

she got them to her ship. Blood-shot eyes found him the bacta. Sticky fingers navigated the ship out.

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

GALIDRAAN FREE-STATE
BASTION

OBJECTIVE II - KNOW YOUR ENEMY

Speakers in Attendance: Irveric Tavlar Willan Tal Enlil Onansi of Thyrsus Halketh Caarlyle Rausgeber

Taking the three differing viewpoints into account, and the tensions that had flared up as a result, the Brigadier-General knew to tread carefully with the olive-branch that had been extended his way by speakers with greater authority than his own; though the wide-eyed, nodding surprise from Lord Willan had proven as the ideal encouragement for Lord Erskine to continue speaking in-depth about a method that, (in all realistic sense) given the opportunity, would've been suggested by Tal anyway. Not that this would ever be an issue, as the Brigadier-General would always ask his Lord-Protector for permission to speak on the Commonwealth's behalf for a time, and it appeared that the Blue-Hearts' Lord-Commander was speaking insightfully enough to be heard by all around him with varying degrees of focused interest.

There was more to Erskine's idea than just arming locals in defence of a native loyalist cause, much more, especially from a keen lifelong history-enthusiast; having conducted his personal-research hours on Bastion itself for three month-long stretches before landing on the planet in question, (first as a defender, then as a firing-range marshal, and lastly as a politician) Barran was becoming quite a knowledgeable source on the matter of Bastion's storied history. One potential matter that, besides how effective the oratory on,"Arming the locals" had been, also retained chances of being taken seriously with the right, and most-nuanced choice of wording. First though, the latest difference in opinion between Onansi and Enlil would need to be addressed before Barran could expand on the non-intrusive strategy he had included in his opening statements.

'Before I return to the matter I mentioned, I wish to address a few speakers first, starting with the right-honourable speakers from Thyrsus and Ketaris; now, I've personally always seen COMPNOR as being competent enough to operate on both internal and foreign affairs without our input, but that's not to say we can't operate as decided until their hypothetical arrival. Their presence, as everyone present will know by know, will be needed everywhere else as much as Bastion, though I think we call can agree that one's a given. '

Though Erskine was a Tarkinist to his very core, the secretive nature of COMPNOR's decisions would never have the other elements within the party become privy to such matters until Harrsk's units had already arrived on scene and we succeeding already; no chances of cover being blown, no chances of ruining their surprise element on friend and foe alike, so it made sense to start with a fact that both Onansi and Enlil could agree on. The New Order had been able to conquer much of the Sith Empire's thinly-stretched territories, but that didn't mean that the clandestine elements of Tavlar's faction needed to make the same mistake, not that they ever would be so silly as to put precious resources at risk in such a fashion.

'I understand your concerns with regards to handling internal threats, and also understand your thoughts on how best to utilise effective organisations like COMPNOR. However, I must respectfully mention that we do have risk-assessments that we can implement, and that such satisfactorily-proportionate responses for all are usually, if decreed, yielded accordingly.... Ravelin, after all, will need a constant military presence henceforth, and smart minds in accordance will also be needed to retain complete control over it.'

Turning to address Lord Halketh's podium, the Stormchaser would make eye-contact with one of the blind warlord's assistants, who would then give a little nudge and a word in his leader's ear before signalling for Lord Erskine to address the necromancer directly. Erskine would lean his hands on either side of the podium's speaker, inhaling slowly through his nostrils before adopting a sincere tone in saying,'Now, as for the issue between the right-honourable speakers from Prefsbelt and Carlac, I may need you both to find common-ground on this matter. I believe both individuals have what it takes to balance out each other's ideological contrasts, as you'll need to if you want Ravelin to rise from the dirt.... Throughout that process, I'll be working to focus everywhere else on Bastion, the outlying lands that lay witness to the destruction and chaos from afar. The hardest job of all, finding a fitting region to form a loyalist enclave these armed loyalists can escape to, and convincing fearful rural peoples to aid loyalists they've never even met before.'
Ravelin's only the simple first part o' the process, the Hearts-and-Minds campaign's going to be much more difficult as time passes.
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