It began slowly at first. There was the odd civilian who threw off their coverings and addressed their fellow kinsmen. They preached of the coming salvation that they should look to the skies for the blessings of their once and future masters. The Sith Empire was coming, and they should rejoice! But, within the Central District, where most of the disaffected population of New Adasta resided - there was no rejoicing. Thousands of eyes glared down upon these would-be preachers with disgust. While it was true that if the Alliance hadn’t come to liberate Ziost from the Sith Empire, the tragedies that followed would’ve never transpired.
However, the Alliance wasn’t the one’s to pull the trigger that began the orbital bombardment, nor were they the ones to unleash the Graug upon the population. The people of Ziost were loyal to the distant throne-world of Dromund Kaas, but after the hellfire rained from the heavens, obliterating entire households in the blink of an eye, and the abominations that were supposed to protect them - slaughtered them like livestock? Even the most devout worshippers of the Sith would begin to question their faith. And, as these would-be preachers continued to spread their message - they were met with grief-stricken opposition.
What did these preachers expect? The Sith Empire bombed their own people, going back on one of their Imperialist mandate’s founding principles. They stated that they would do everything they could to protect their own citizens but cared naught for those outside their borders. It seemed that they abandoned that principle when their backs were against the wall, and defeat loomed upon the horizon. How convenient for them. But to those that were deeply affected, much like the people of New Adasta? Those inflicted scars would run deep. The Empire may not have abandoned them, that much was true - but they cared little for their survival.
If that was true, why did they order the City’s destruction through the combined efforts of the orbital guns and the Graug?
As those preachers continued to attempt to incite an outright uprising, seeking to pave the way for their Sith-Imperial masters - they gained a following. Sadly, it wasn’t the following they expected or hoped for. Instead, it was a gaggle of disenfranchised citizens that lost their families or bore witness to the slaughter. Their red-rimmed eyes were fixated on these political instigators; palpable hatred oozed from their every pore. The Alliance sought to safeguard them from the horrors transpiring outside of the Central District, which meant that their vengeance was denied. Yet, these preachers were well within their reach.
Without hesitation, the gathered mob surged forward - shrieking with unearthly rage - and dragged these Sith-Imperial loyalists to the ground. With their fists and feet, they brutally savaged the preachers, beating them within an inch of their collective lives. Some even took it a step further and took hold of some nearby debris and began painting the street a vibrant shade of red. It wasn’t a pretty sight to bear witness to, but in a way - Milo supposed it was cathartic. They couldn’t take their rage out on the Sith Empire, as their armies would’ve likely trampled them flat, then later proclaim their efforts were meant to save them from the Devils of the Core Worlds. So, they had to go after something else.
When the crowds were slowly gathering, several Squads of the 7th’s Second Company were mustered in an attempt to keep the peace. They initially feared that these people were crawling back to the Sith Empire’s graces - despite everything they endured. Thus, those Marines were ready to act when the first signs of hostility were displayed. Instead, those Alliance Soldiers watched on with vague disbelief as the Citizens of New Adasta killed these would-be Instigators with their own bare hands. Or with whatever items they could get their hands on. They didn’t bother intervening, as there would’ve been no point. These people were butchered by the Sith Empire, and their distant Imperial masters wanted them to spit in the faces of those going out of their way to help New Adasta recover?
Madness. Absolute Insanity.
Trooper Harnan couldn’t even fathom the cognitive dissonance that went through their minds to justify such actions. But, the man supposed that when an Empire got desperate, they began to grasp whatever straws they could in the hopings of drawing victory. It was only a matter of time before news of the Massacre of New Adasta began to spread across the Empire entire. As their propaganda machines couldn’t hide the widespread slaughter of so many of their own people. Would the foundations of their Empire rot ever-further? Would this blasted Campaign end with the dissolution of the Sith-Imperial throne? There were far too many questions that begged for answers that only the future held, and through the speculative pursuit, Milo would’ve been lost in his own thoughts for years to come.
He had better things to do than question the ever-changing state of the future, like ushering the blood-caked mob away from the twitching corpses of these failed instigators. Shaking his head and falling in step with his Sergeant, Milo’s squad began directing the disenfranchised people back towards the relative safety of the Starport.
The Sith Empire seemingly manifested from no-where. Which wasn’t entirely unexpected, as the Sith had done so many times before. Nor was their sudden arrival unprepared for either. The City may lay in ruins, but that didn’t mean it was wholly defenceless. When the first of the Sith Dropships arrived, they drove towards the Central District’s outskirts, seeking to claim a foothold within New Adasta. Sadly, they wouldn’t make it to their destination. They were intercepted by surface emplacements as soon as they broke through the partially-swirling cloud cover. Their shields flared under the plasmatic cannonade, only to burst as their capacitors overloaded and collapsed. It was only moments after the defensive barriers fell that the transports turned into blossoms of fiery shrapnel.
Those Dropships might’ve been the first that the Sith Empire brought to bear, but they were far - far from the last. As the smouldering ashes of their comrades scattered themselves over the ruined City, dozens more punched through the cascading debris. This time, however, they veered away from the ruined surface of New Adasta. It seemed that their strategy shifted in the face of opposition, and they did what they could to adapt. Which was expected, as there were two potential paths for the Sith to have taken. They could’ve thrown everything they had at the Central District and reaped a bloody toll amongst their own numbers - making it near impossible to take and hold the City.
But, if they battered the defences from the outskirts as they pushed inwards? Well, that’d make their hold on New Adasta more tenable. Not only would they have the support of the local populace, a small portion of what was left, but they’d also have less inflicted casualties. A benefit due to the lack of Sith transports being blown out of the sky. Plus, with the Outriders and the smaller number of Marines on the outskirts of the City - it wouldn’t be hard to punch through the defences and reach the inner Districts. Yet, that was precisely what the Alliance hoped for. They spent weeks preparing for the Sith Empire’s counter-attack. Everything was so far was proceeding per the Major’s design.
Tycho watched as countless Sith-Imperial transponders blinked to life, bathing a significant portion of the holo-table in a proverbial sea of red. There were walkers, tanks, and artillery pieces, coupled with companies of Legionnaires. His forces were outnumbered, but that didn’t mean they were outfought. A majority of the City was theirs, and they reshaped the ruins to suit their needs - thus, the advantage of terrain was firmly in the Alliance’s hands. But that advantage wouldn’t last for long. All of their carefully laid preparations would count for nothing when the crumbling Empire’s resources were seemingly infinite. The 7th Regiment couldn’t win the war of attrition, let alone the Alliance thereafter.
However, the very least they could do was made them bleed for every inch that was taken.
Yet, it seemed that they wouldn’t fight alone. A transmission was sent out into the darkness some time ago and was answered in kind. The New Imperial Order had come, alongside a portion of the Silver Jedi. He smiled then. A small measure of hope was rekindled within his breast, followed by an ironic realization. This was what the Sith must’ve felt during the Battle of Dantooine, as the Galaxy converged to fight for what they respectively believed was right. With a subtle shake of his head, the Major turned his gaze towards his nearby Adjutant. They busied themselves with updating the holo-table with all of the data they collated from the various units deployed in the field.
“Sir,” the Adjutant stated as they took notice of their Commander’s sole eye gazing in their direction. “The New Imperial reinforcements are landing outside the City, not far away from the Sith currently marched towards the defensive curtain. We’re doing our best to establish comms with their command echelons to better co-ordinate our defence. But, uh, it’ll be a few moments before we can make that happen. These Sith Imperial transmitters are shot, and our Combat Engineers haven’t been able to get around to fixing them. Once your Juggernaut gets back to base, we’ll patch them through.”
Tycho nodded. “Very well, the Seventh knows what to do while we’re experiencing long-range comms issues. With the New Imperials landing behind the enemy forces - they’ll draw the Sith into the City and trap them between our detachments.” The man laughed then. “I’m sure the General and his Wolfpack would relish running down pinned Sith troopers, with the New Imperials driving the Sith into his fangs.”
“Sir, there’s also something else that needs your attention. The Second Company’s Captain has issued a report detailing some… disturbing events in the Central District. Seems the Sith Empire had some sleeper agents in the population. They must’ve slipped in a transmission while we were evacuating their people from the shelters, likely detailing when the attack would begin.”
The Major rolled his eye then. “That’s unsurprising. Have they armed the civilians and started an uprising yet?”
There was a short, almost menacing pause before the Adjutant dropped their gaze back towards the holo-table. “That’s the disturbing thing. Sir, the people, killed them.”
Tycho stared in disbelief. “I’m sorry, they killed them?”
“Yes, Sir, we managed to pull Trooper Harnan’s vid-feed and watched these so-called preachers get savaged by their neighbours. It was disturbing… to say the least.”
“Well,” Tycho said with a small sigh of relief. “At least that means the people we’ve pulled into the Central District aren’t our enemies. Naturally, we can’t speak to those that haven’t been recovered yet, as the preacher’s likely got to them. Do what you can to inform the Outriders of this development. I don’t want our soldiers ambushed by unmarked civilian militia in an active warzone.”
“We’ll do what we can, Sir.”
It was then that something began building upon the horizon. Barely seen through the polarized viewport, the ashen tundra was soon dominated by rolling storm - seemingly conjured from nothing. Tycho sighed, then. Another Ritual? Seriously? Did these Sith not punish the people of Ziost enough with their bombardment and the Graug? Were they so assured that their defeat was nigh they had to pull out the oldest and dirtiest tricks in the book to ensure victory? His fingers tightened into a fist and slammed down on the holo-table. This raging storm changed things. They could strip a few power sources from a few artillery pieces and repower the Twoer’s shield generator, but that’d do little to aid the people trapped inside.
Plus, with the Silver Jedi having arrived to render aid - that shield would make their journey to the surface all the more difficult.
While it wasn’t moving fast, the storm was building speed. There was still some time for them to prepare, even though it was starting to dwindle with every passing moment. All was not lost, not when there were Jedi nearby - and when the spark of hope was rekindled by the arrival of reinforcements.
“Get that damned transmitter back up and running,” Tycho growled. “We’ve got very little time to get these people out of the Starport before that Storm gets here.”
Auteme
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Aaran Tafo
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Kisaku Oroken
Saket Keane
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Darth Strosius
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Alina Tremiru
