Invasion Hope Never Dies | GA Invasion of TSE held Ziost and Tiss'Sharl

[Darth Strosius]

"History is written by the victor. History is filled with liars." -Captain John Price, Modern Warfare 2
Location: Aboard Alina's ship
Objective 2: Destroy the Meditation Chamber aboard the Prosperity
Equipment: Lightsaber
Allies: TSE / Terrible Trio
Enemies: GA / NIO
Tags: Alina Tremiru / Saket Keane / Auteme / Kisaku Oroken / Okkeus Dainlei / Aaran Tafo
-----------------------------------------

"...and remember to watch the skies for the signal. Stay safe down there and follow the leads of your comrades. Regardless of what happens, I will find you afterward. Qoritottoi, and good luck." The figure on the other end of the call nodded on the hologram and gave the Acolyte a small bow. "Qoritottoi, High Priest." With that the call ended and Alisteri slipped the small holo-communicator into his pocket.

He could only hope that New Adasta would be liberated without too much bloodshed, but for the moment he had other matters to attend to. Namely the ship that they were fast approaching.

It hadn't been the first time he wore a Taozin Amulet, idly fiddling with it around his neck as he strode into the ship's lounge area. The last time that he had worn one however, he hadn't been as used to the Force. It bothered him a bit wearing it but he knew better than to take it off so soon. Being one of so few Sith on a ship full of Jedi had his nerves frazzled enough. Doing his best to ignore the odd creatures that they had brought aboard the ship with them, he stood before Alina and listened carefully as she relayed the plan.

"Sneaking aboard a ship full of Jedi and wrecking their heretical meditation chamber? It must be my birthday."

A small smirk did cross his face, but he knew the task ahead would be dangerous. If they weren't careful they could even find themselves crossing blades with a Jedi Master or two, to say the least.

Not that he was dissuaded from the mission at all of course. Any advantage they could give to their allies and comrades down on Ziost's surface was worth the risk. "Let's just make sure that if we do run into any resistance, that we put them down quick and quietly yes? Can't win a battle of attrition on an enemy ship."

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

POST I
THE_CLAYMORE

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

OBJECTIVE 3: Remnants of Dust

Taskforce LIONHEART: Willan Tal Konrad Bolter Enedina Tal

ALLIES (NIO/GA): Irveric Tavlar Noel Strasza
Cotan Sar'andor

ENEMIES (TSE/CIS): Irina Volkov

CALLSIGN: BLUE-HEART ALPHA

Custom Blaster-Pistol | Basket-Hilted Vibrosword Claymore

A BARRAN WASTELAND - PRELUDE

Location - Galidraani HQ, Archais

After receiving both the Obsidian and the Iron Sun on behalf of the 2nd Battalion, and being inducted into the Order of the Lion's first generation of medal-recipients with four others, Lord-Major Barran would receive a surprise promotion to Brigadier-General; it had taken a while for the implications to take hold, but becoming a Lord-Commander of an entire brigade left him in what appeared to be mirthful state of wheezing shock, until being jokingly reprimanded by Major-General Tal at the time to right himself, and ordered to accept to his decades-long coveted Lionhead rank-pins for the sake of Galidraan 3's still-uncertain future. Lord Erskine understood the kindly sincerity implied by Lord Willan's words, and thus gladly accepted his honours before going back to laughing at the recent injection of manpower from the Galidraani homeworlds.

'Where do I even start to organise these fresh battalion's roles?', Barran would ask himself afterwards, drinking whiskey with the high-command of the Exiled-Galidraani forces in their new entirety. The others, including Erskine's firstborn son, had overheard this, but like Tom, the others would hold their tongues with their usual curiosity towards his thinking-process. Drinking the remnants of his whiskey glass, Lord Erskine politely tapped it off the surface of the cigar-table he was using before returning to his thoughts and lighting his Golden-Lion cigar as he did so. Puffing away as the others watched, as all of them sat sipping or guzzling their drinks as according to their heritage, watching as the former Lord-Major planned his next steps aloud.

'Huge injection of experienced Woad an' Tuath volunteers, with plenty others of local Colonial-Archasian stock, an' a means to expand on my old concept with greater effectiveness than before.... Our esteemed partners-in-colonialism could become the Archasian-only 4th battalion, Third Battalion? Droid-Tech, Quartermasters and Combat-Engineers for sure! Second Battalion? All mechanised, all Blue-Hearts and Tuaths, right down to the last recruit. Guardians retain control of an entire Blue-Heart battalion, but I'll put those unused ACVs in their control, along with some APC-support to add a mechanised element to their loadout.'
Home, this new contingent can get us back to Galidraan. Standing, once more, on sand we can finally recognise as our own!

'Thinking o' the Heartlands again, father?'

Smirking again, but briefly taking a moment to quietly thank (and tip) the barman for his speedy response to the politer,"Slam-for-refills", Lord Erskine turned to Tom, and noticed the man his son had become had become a full-bird Lord-Leftenant when he saw the added star-pins to those he's seen on Tom's shoulders before. Nodding acknowledgement to his son, Barran couldn't help but appreciate his firstborn's ability to both survive and acquit himself proficiently in the crucibles the exiled-Galidraanis had survived by that point, seeing for himself that the same wily hardiness of Clan Barran had perfectly imprinted itself on Tom's generation of the family genealogy.

'Every waking hour of every single day I wake t'breathe again, I karking breathe my dreams of Galidraan 3 when I speak; even in my most amiable of greetings it spews forth, it's hardly subtle.... Sith boots have trodden on our homeworld, and for how long? Too long for men of our ilk to let it stand, son. We're fighting our way home, but we're fighting to gain the right to fight on that same soil that has been denied us for decades; so keep that in mind as you continue serving under our Lord-Commander to the best of your ability, and rest assured you'll become a Lord-Commander yourself someday. Trust in Tal, and Tal will trust in you. Men like Lord Willan can give us our opportunity to, not only see our homeworlds again from a distance, but to return to Galidraan with the NIO's ships and perhaps earn the right to die on home-soil as well.'

A BARRAN WASTELAND - ALL VEHICLES DEPLOYED

Location - Undisclosed Location, Ziost

'Barran to Blue-Heart Bravo! Any word from the 104th Marine Battalion yet? The Galactic Alliance are hard pressed as it is without having to wait on New Imperial support.'

<"Gowrie to Blue-Heart Alpha! Agreed, Milord. An' nope, not a peep from the Wolfpack as of yet; an' we're also tryin' t'get a comm-link set up with their 7th Mechanised Regiment, no a peep t'be heard fae them either.">

'They'll be hollerin' doun the line t'somebody else, bogged-down contingents usually have a lot o' comm-traffic throughout their defensive stances. Best thing for us to do right now is start closing that distance between us an' them. Make it happen, Gowrie! Blue-Heart Alpha out!'
Yer first official action as 2-IC, first official deployment as captain, so ah better no be seein' any o' that madness o' yours.

There were times and places for such rage, and it appeared to both Gowrie and Barran that Ziost wouldn't be the stage for anything as drastic as an all-or-nothing sallying counterattack from the back foot, so their exclamations were monotonal enough to tell that the engines of their ACVs were forcing their voices to loudly compensate for the revving; this was obviously one of those invasions where they'd have to get a feel for the new Brigade's pros-and-cons, though every survivor of Bastion, Helgard and Generis would be merged (and promoted upon submission of up-to-date service records) into their new respective units to inject some much-needed experience and insight into wherever it may have been lacking. To make up for this first-usage pitfall, however, Lord Erskine had devised a strategy with Lord Aron, though it would take some time for it's true effectiveness to shine through in it's wide-set formation.

From the very front, Gowrie's would provide vanguard-leadership from a hard-oblique (though wide-stretching) front line of armoured battalions as the vice-grips, with surveillance drones scouting the wasteland for potential threats and bombing-targets; and in the second offensive static-line behind them, Barran would provide the hammering element with infantry and mobile LMG-support, with further power given to their hard-hitting second-wave by the combat-engineers and QM-marksmen bolstering the far-right of a thinned-out first wave. Keeping it as textbook as humanly possible, and mutually getting their idea from the famed Kandaran horse-cavalry generals of old, the Woad and his new Tuath subordinate were clearly willing to restrict and trap the movements of their foes in this manner; even if it meant fully-engaging a relatively-untested contingent into the wildest of the hostilities, both Captain and Brigadier-General knew it was the easiest method for them to manage and play around with.

<"All units under Lionheart force adjacent in space and on ground, this is commander Tal speaking, be advised Sith positions are well entrenched and multiple force users are present in the area, stay sharp and make the homeworld proud, Tal out.">
Just wait 'til they taste the,"Force" generated by mah new surveillance droids. It's gawnty get messy indeed!

'Barran to L-C Actual! Copy that, but if ye hear some explosions before we make contact, that'll be the new surveillance droids-', Barran replied, but being interrupted by the sight of a Sith-emblazoned starfighter crash-landing in the near distance, some two-hundred metres between both waves of Galidraan 3's two-wave approach to their GA-allies last known position. The reserve droids dispatched to scan the wreckage for signs of life would find nothing, but some had looked upwards on their rotation back towards the Brigadier-General's second wave, noticing a relatively safely (though still uncomfortably-fast) descending towards the center of the line; rendered redundant, the droids were about to be called back when Lord Erskine was interrupted a singular metallic clunk hitting the top of ACV One's engine-manifold, followed by the comically-loud curses of the one who landed, and the hyena-like shrieks of the LMG-gunner's laughter that was unleashed onto the poor soul in reply.

'Aw mate, are you aw'right down there? Ah can see the GA's insignia on your gear, sorry for laugh-AhahahahAHAHAHAHAA! At least let us stop the vehicle first, man! Malcom, stop the vehicle for goodness sake! HAHAHAHAHAHA! It's a friendly, Sergeant-Major! Stop stop stop, Malcom! Use yer ears, man!'

​

​

 

[Kainan]

Y O U N G _ C O N Q U E R O R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
LEGATE ACTUAL
KNIGHT OF THE EMPIRE
Armour | Lightsaber
Open For Interaction

"Yes, I say again, this is Alliance One requesting assistance. We are beset by Sith corsairs, our requests for safe portage have been paid no mind. This is a consular ship on a, ah, diplomatic mission…" –– Aerarii Tithe, Vice Chancellor of the Alliance

The victory at Helgard had called for new, fresher forces from the homeland of the New Order. Growing darkness on the edge of the Galaxy called forth the Imperial Force Corps. The Stygian Campaign was on the brink of success, but when word reached the New Order that the Alliance, were dug in on Ziost, the Force Corps mustered.

Rerouted from their journey to Ziost, Alliance One, transporting part of the delegation that had been on Tiss'sharl were under attack. And from the blackness of space, to answer the call for aid, an Iron Fleet.

Like the hostile boarders that attached their ships to Alliance One, so did the shuttle that carried the Imperial Knights. Of their order, few came. For the constant struggle to rid the galaxy of the Sith Empire saw their numbers dwindle. Dantooine, Bastion, too many deaths. But the new Knights rose to the call, at the behest of their leader, Rurik Fel .

As the shuttle docked, and the airlock opened, Kainan looked to those in the group. "We must ensure the Alliance Officials still live." From his belt, his silvered hilt was drawn. His thumb, lightly pressing on the ignition button before the airlock cycled open and bid them entry into the Alliance vessel. The stench of ozone and tibanna pervaded his nostrils, but instead of buffeting him, he welcomed the familiar scent of battle. Through the Force, Kainan touched each of their minds. And thus the metaphysical link was established, with the Youthful Knight as its focal point.

For the Empire, his mind echoed.

Allies | NIO | NJO | Nearby | Rurik Fel | Areyon | Fisk Kamer | Aerarii Tithe |
Enemies | TSE | Ingrid L'lerim

 

[Darth Ahriman]

Objective 3: Liberate New Adasta, ignite the underground.
Inventory: Apparel | Lightsaber.
Support: Sigma-Five Squadron, Specialized Infantry Unit.
Opposition: The Galactic Alliance.

​

As reinforcements of the Sith Imperial Legion began to descend upon New Adasta, Valen stood aboard one of the Dropships inbound for the City Outskirts alongside Sigma-Five, an infantry unit that he had been tasked with supporting as they seek to punch a hole in the first defense of the Galactic Alliance's Occupation Force.

The Sith Imperial Reinforcements was the fire to light up the underground. 'Watch the Skies' was the promise given to the Citizens Army, the loyal occupants of New Adasta who had been Sith-Imperial Citizens for years prior to the Invasion of the Galactic Alliance, then forced to watch as their world burned by the arrival of outlanders, invaders and foreign armies who assumed the role of liberators for a people that needed them not.

Among those survivors of the first wave of the invasion, were those ready to rise up in the name of the Empire, defiant of these self-imposing heroes, refusing to be removed of their homeworld and those who had brought them security for so long. With the reign of fire that engulfed the numerous Sith Craft breaking orbit and descending for the surface of Ziost, so too did the Citizens Army rally to the battle.

'Rise up' they shouted with renewed vigour and pride, militants willing to sacrifice what last remained of their world in order to see the Alliance removed of their home, their imposed doctrine of freedoms earned through the deaths and carnage wrought upon the very civilization they sought to save.

The people would not be taken quietly, nor would they stand by as foreign invaders worked to bring down the livelihoods they had for so long built up under Sith Imperial Rule. Many of this underground militia had already lost friends, family members to the first wave, forced to bide their time under temporary occupation until the sign was given and the Sith would return to see them avenged. Now was the time to strike back, to take up arms and fight for their homeland, a land already bloodied with the loss of innocent lives, a once-beloved City now in ruins, a graveyard of what was.

​

Valen steadied himself against the hull of the Imperial Dropship as it was rocked violently from the incoming weapons fire and flak burning through the skies in an attempt to quell the reinforcements coming to the Citizens and remaining Imperial Forces fighting to take back New Adasta from the Galactic Alliance.

They were inbound for the frontlines, to reinforce the Imperial Forces already there holding the perimeter, their mission to break through the Alliance blockade and punch a hole into the Capital for which the Alliance Forces would see fighting from within, the Citizens Army taking a stand and dividing their focus while the Empire brought renewed strength to the battlefield and sought to overcome the battle-worn invaders.

"Sir" the Captain of Sigma-Five called for Valen's attention, motioning for the Acolyte to join them.

"The LZ is situated a click out from Imperial Forces, Orders are to land and rendezvous with the rest of the battalion on foot. Command expects heavy resistance once we reach the blockade, armoured infantry and snipers further in" the Trooper explained the initial stage of their entry into the fight, and for Valen this would be his first true battle.

Zeptepi Zambrano had instructed Valen to take part in the first wave of reinforcements, a test of courage and perseverance, of strength and fortitude to ensure he was worthy of being her Apprentice. She, a member of the House Zambrano and of the Kainate, the upper echelons of the Sith Order. For Valen however, this wasn't just a test, but his very life on the line and failure here would mean the end of everything.

"I have my orders Captain, I'm here to support and ensure your success" Valen replied, doing his best to sound confident despite the fear and anxiety that he felt swelling up inside of him. He was not among those experienced and seemingly fearless Sith Lords, but still a boy of eighteen years and a fresh Acolyte at that. What he would face today would likely path his way ahead within the Sith Order's ranks, as well as his personal ambitions for which he needed all that they could offer.

He wondered whether the Captain and his Legionaries could sense his fear, yet there was no more time left to prepare for the fight to come. Before long, the Dropship had touched down with the surface, and the troops were filing out with Valen in tow, destined for the frontlines and the thick of the warzone.

From afar, Valen and the Squad's attention was caught by the fire-fight of starfighters, seemingly Sith Starfighters firing upon one of their own in a brazen display of piloting. Sigma-Five continued to keep the pace as they made their approach towards the battlefront while Valen moved in tow with them, eyes on the display overhead and bearing witness to the destruction of multiple craft...-And what more he almost couldn't believe, one of the pilots plummeting towards the ground in what almost looked like a slowed descent. A Force-User, no doubt.

Cotan Sar'andor

 

[Kascalion Giedfield]

Armor: X | Lightsaber: X | Lightsaber Shoto: X | Right Arm: X
Objective: Search and Destroy
Primary RP Opponents: Lucien Dooku
Overarching Opponents: GA | TSE | Respective Allies
Theme: Dragon God

​

It had merely been two or so weeks since the Sith Empire had repelled the bulk of the Galactic Alliance’s invasion of Ziost. Since that time, the groundwork for a reinvigorated bout had been laid, and the forces of both sides had begun to mount their defensive and offensive tactics across not only Ziost, but a selection of other worlds such as Tiss’Sharl. The orbits of both primary worlds were likely to be filled with hulks of metal and plasmic energy. Fleets by the dozens. Thousands of souls. Doomed to die in the frozen blackness.

But the battles of Tiss’Sharl was not the Devil’s business - really - nor was even the wider war on Ziost as the Empire marched towards those hiding in New Adasta. He would remain outside of their sights. Dealing with his own life as the reinforcements for the Galactic Alliance sped their way through hyperspace towards the dark planet in the hopes of breaking the siege upon their people and resuming their own on the Empire. Indeed, none of that mattered to him. No, what mattered was the chance presented to him.

You see, the Devil - during the duels on Helgard, Brosi, Nyriaan, and his combat against several Jedi on Pillio, along with his dealings on Tash-Taral - had uncovered a series of clues and enigmas. Enticing - nay, luring and beckoning - him to locations across the galaxy far and wide, known and unknown, mundane and eldritch. Planetoids and capitals, moons and municipals, all assortments of things that he had never visited in any life he had lived. No amount of visiting the Archive within his mind could lend him any proof that he had. Nor that his species could have possibly survived their extinction and left the world to flee to these places.

Mysteries, indeed, and related to something he had longed for, for many years now in fact. The uncovering of his true name on Generis at the hands of Paz Koon and Kainan only enhanced this longing. This confusion. This unlocking of power, a power that had no reason yet every reason to exist.

Empty, and full. No place in this narrative that he was writing, yet every place in this narrative. For he was God, though this was something that not even he could truly elucidate in his mind’s eye.

Well, until now that is. Now, now, now, and forever before and after, pieces of information and evidence began to place themselves - puzzle-like - into the empty board. The Warlords of the Sith began to expand outward, razing the world of Ninn and Kamar, engaging the False Idols of the Dark Side and placing themselves above all the others where they belonged. Each clash of crimson on crimson, each breaking of spirit, and each wound dealt and endured placed more of these pieces on the board. Until he was granted a full picturesque view of...Ziost. The Academy on Ziost, full of black and red energy that swirled in catastrophic formations like the beginning of a star. It was as if someone had taken a picture of it and printed it out and shoved it into his brain through the grey matter. He had visited the planet only once before, yes, but nothing to explain this vibrant and visceral image. So he came here, hidden aboard a stealth shuttle and sneaking through the coming chaos as it began to rage and ignite in the forest’s fire of ending.

Within the battered shattered walls of this old place, he stood in a central chamber of some off-to-the-side section with a cadre of ten Knights. They were all brothers and sisters from a long dynasty of Ocsin from Farana, their black pupilless eyes glaring underneath their hoods and helmets. They were all equipped, more or less, and were mainly intended to be fodder, as the Devil’s true soldiers were otherwise engaged with Sith Warlord dealings back home.

As such, these men and women were armed and armored in gear they had made themselves or that they claimed from the battlefield. Blacks, yellows, pinks, reds, blues, and all other sorts for their clothes and metals. Colors were indeed mismatched and several of their lightsabers bore scratches and gouges in the metalwork. Veterans, to be sure, but they would not last the day if anyone of true, true skill was to invade and interrupt the Devil’s goals. Which was inevitably true for many, if not all, of these events.

Still, he stood in that chamber that was lightless and dark and remained silent as the grave, frozen-gaze set upon the stonework as his sight weaved through the shrouds of the Force. Something was here, in this very room, and all he had to do was find it.

Find. It.

 

[Shoma Ike]

Shoma of Atrisia - Junior Representative of the Planet Atrisia
Jedi Kimono | Sasori Circlet | Lightsaber
Accompanying: Senator Ju Li Kim of Atrisia
Friendly: GA | NIO | Kainan
Hostile: TSE | Ingrid L'lerim | Open Tag

Diplomatic options seemed to have failed.

“Action stations, action stations, set condition one throughout the ship - this is not a drill. I say again, action stations, action stations…”

The young prince was not surprised by the collapse of formal talks, but the speed at which the Sith Imperial blockade had ground the advance of the Alliance flagship to a halt was startling for the apparent ferocity and intensity of the conflict.

The teenage noble had departed from the diplomatic quarters, en route to the communications hub that allowed for the various delegates to remain in contact with their respective governments while deployed aboard the star cruiser. Dodging crew and soldiers in the passageways, the short Atrisian hugged the walls of the ship's bulkhead as he proceeded apace through the massive ship.

Along the way, he'd nearly collided with a haggard-looking Aerarii Tithe as the older man hurried toward the bridge of the ship. Giving a respectful bow, the teen didn't imagine that the banker had so much as noticed as the Vice Chancellor had already vanished around a bend -- with plenty of other things on his mind, no doubt.

Making it to the communications center, the boy was quick to the point. "Can we get a transmission out to Atrisia?"

If Alliance One was under attack with both himself and Senator Kim aboard, then the Atrisian Commonwealth would need to be informed as soon as possible. There was an additional complication with his being aboard, but Shoma had no desire to even consider becoming the Atrisian Emperor. Junko Ike would have been his vote, if they voted on that sort of thing.

However, if Junko had to pick up his duties in the Galactic Senate in addition to taking his place in the line of succession... he imagined that she might be a tad put out by that.

"Too much interference, Your Highness," the technician reported back to the teen. "We can't even be certain our distress signal is going out."

So the situation was as dire as it felt. "So ka," the Atrisian murmured quietly.

There was a rough roll of the ship, almost as though experiencing an earthquake in space. The lighting flickered overheard, before a voice crackled overhead that announced:

“All hands, all hands, yes this is Vice Chancellor Tithe. We are under assailment from hostile belligerents. Passengers, ah, please make your way to the escape pods.”

Tithe was preparing them to abandon ship?

He needed to get back to Senator Kim. Giving a slight bow to the crew inside the communications hub, the teen offered, "Shitsurei shimasu," as he backed out into the hallway. Drawing in a deep breath, the teen started to wind his way back through the ship for the diplomatic quarters.

Consciously, the teen patted his side to see if he'd remembered to clip his lightsaber to his belt. It was more of an ornamental piece. It was expected that the members of the Royal House of Atrisia were Force Sensitive, and so the presence of a lightsaber was part of expected appearance of an Atrisian prince. Junko tried to encourage that he practice with it more, but it was difficult to think of it as anything more than a ceremonial piece.

When he'd faced the Grand Moff of the First Order, Natasi Fortan , he had resolved the Battle of Atrisia not with violence, but with words. Shoma wouldn't claim to be good with words, but he was at least more practiced with them than with a lightsaber.

When words failed... well, this might be the first time that Shoma had dealt with that question as more than a philosophical question.

Looking back on it now, he wished he'd spent less time in the Senate and maybe more time training with Ryv or the other members of the New Jedi Order that the Atrisian barely even knew, other than by the reputation that preceded them. He sincerely doubted any of the New Jedi even knew who he was.

Should they make it out of this alive, perhaps he ought to remedy that.

Even if it meant having to admit that Junko had been right about something.

 

[Saket Keane]

/The Pillar Men/
Tags: Alina Tremiru | Darth Strosius | Auteme | Kisaku Oroken | Okkeus Dainlei | Aaran Tafo ​

Objective 2 // Post 1​

The ship was nice, and was ever the step above any transport Saket had taken prior. Stealth-class, its sleek profile could slip through various detection equipment without so much as a peep on sensors-- heck, even the chairs didn't squeak. That development was what Saket busied himself with as he swiveled in the chair nearest the spatial map grid. Rubber soles gave a squeal as he slammed his boots down to stop the spinning, and he fell back into the seat with an affirming grunt.

"Iz a good plan. And agree wit Brother Alas--Alisteri. Quick. Quiet. But whhy I doubt thhiz?" A heavy-gloved hand rose to his helmet's chin to stroke it in mock consideration. He waved away the act and chuckled low, a slip of bitterness broadcasting over his vocoded voice. "When we do meet rezistance, let uz return thhe dread thhey gave our kin at Sorzus."

Saket's hand went to the amulet about his neck, a gift from Alina to obfuscate his signature in the Force. It laid close to the lightsaber clipped at his shoulder, its durasteel casing almost hidden beneath a layer of his Ubesian ruana. His helmet's slatted gaze rose to consider Alisteri, the youngest and frailest between them. Even so, Saket respected the youngest brother, as Alisteri's gift with words was a bar Saket could ever reach. The Ubese never let on that he'd heard Alisteri's sermons to the members of Dark Wonosa. He didn't wish to hurt the Acolyte's pride by admitting to following him into the depths Dromund Kaas, acting as his invisible guard while Alina was away.

His gaze then moved to the previously mentioned, and he nodded subtle approval to her words of their hastening arrival. Alina was, then, a Knight of their order. Though Saket was the eldest of the group he was still an Acolyte, yet Alina's progress didn't draw any jealousy from him. They were together as one unit, one order. When one succeeded they all claimed benefit, and so he was proud of the young woman, even admiring her tenacity.

He drew a deep breath, focusing himself on the goal ahead. Dust stirred as gloves smacked into one another while he adjusted the fingers, and his voice took on a more chipper tone as he let the presence of his claimed kin bolster his spirit. "By thhe way. Do we have snackz...?"

​

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Objective III - Eviction
Equipment - In signature
Allies: TSE
Enemies: GA Master Zoryu
​

Roughly three weeks had passed since the Galactic Alliance had begun their invasion of Ziost, roughly three weeks since the Sorzus Academy had been attacked and New Adasta had been occupied by the invaders. The academy that the Lady of Secrets had founded still stood, damaged and even now bodies were still being discovered and dealt with, but the Jedi had been repulsed. Whatever darkness that had accidentally been unleashed had sowed chaos in their ranks and now...

Now it was time to finish removing the Alliance and the Jedi from this ancient Sith world, and it would begin with what had been laid down three weeks ago. While she herself had been occupied with another ritual, a test and then an unwanted visitor that had stolen away with the empowered astrium, the senior Sith sorcerers and teachers of the academy, led by the Givin headmaster Darth Kizian, had begun energizing the very atmosphere with the power of the dark side. It had not been hard to find energy to fuel their initial ritual. Death was a potent source of darkness, and they had harnessed every soul that had perished, had been consumed by madness and died. They had reached deep into the planet itself, drawing on the ancient darkness that had been a part of Ziost for almost twenty-five thousand years.

The first ritual had gone uninterrupted, and the skies above the academy had darkened with ominous clouds, crackling with lightning, but they had held there, diffusing for the past three weeks into the atmosphere of the world, lacing it with a hidden threat unseen by the mundane soldiers of the Alliance. Sith magic hung heavy in the air, muddying the currents of the Force with darkness and a promise of something sinister.

Cloak billowing around her, Darth Arcanix and the senior sorcerers of the academy had gathered on a site near the occupied city. Protected by soldiers loyal to the Lady of Secrets, and some of the more powerful creatures summoned by their dark mistress, the ritual circle had been drawn. Esoteric Sith runes, created by Darth Arcanix herself, glowed a deep purple, giving off a sense of evil. Lines of blood, harvested from captured Alliance soldiers and Sithspawn, twisted through and around the runes, a great lattice in the rocky ground at her feet. The sorcerers were arranged at precise locations on the ritual surface, drawing the dark side to them, waiting for their mistress to command them to begin the spell. At the center of the concentric circles, a pyramid much like a Sith holocron sat, a red aura pulsing from it regularly.

"Everything is prepared, my Lady," the gravelly tones of Kizian reported. "We await your word only."

Amber eyes looked across the work, making sure it was indeed as it was said. The volunteers, the fanatics that knew what the ritual would do and had decided to give their mortal lives to the Sith to see the Jedi driven from their world, were waiting. The plan to take New Adasta from the Alliance was about to begin. The siege would keep most of the Alliance from coming, but now all. The Jedi would feel the ritual when it began, and likely would come to try and stop whatever it was if they could.

It would be too late.

"Begin," she commanded. As one, the chanting within the ancient Sith language would begin, purple and black energy igniting across the entire lattice and being drawn into the Sith device at the center... and the dark clouds began to form anew.

 

[Cotan Sar'andor]

​

Allies: DECEASED Erskine Barran , NIO, GA
Enemies: Valen, TSE

​

Nothing was broken, but everything was bruised—or so it felt like. Cotan's litany of curses gradually slowed and stopped, as he sat himself up, pulling on something to get himself into a sitting position. He was only dimly aware of what was happening around him for the moment, having made sure to aim himself for a group of friendly soldiers once he knew he couldn't slow himself enough to avoid at least being dazed; eventually, what all he could hear made its way through.

Namely, the laughing of the man next to him, as the command vehicle came to a stop. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, you git," he muttered, giving a sideways glare at the man. Needless to say, his pride had certainly been bruised after what happened. Then he caught a glance of what he was using to hold himself in a sitting position.

A gun barrel.

Oh, joy.

At least he hadn't landed on the gun itself, or he'd be even more uncomfortable. "Galidraani, right? Glad some of Tavlar's boys could make it." He turned away, his eyes following a dropship that passed quickly over their heads, landing and releasing its troops near the Sith lines. It was too far out to be sure, but coming off of the ship...

That can't be Caedyn. No way. Who is that?

The person almost looked perfectly like he'd belong within the Arenais family. He leaned over the front of the armoured vehicle, looking in through the front viewports.

"Open up a hatch and get me in this thing, damn it! If they're dropping troops and Sith, we need to get up to reinforce your forward line as fast as possible!"

 

[Alina Tremiru]

Objective: Destroy the Light Side Nexus
Location: Aboard her Lumiya Class Interceptor
Equipment: See Sig
Allies: TSE
Enemies: NIO / GA
Tags: Darth Strosius | Saket Keane | Aaran Tafo | Auteme | Okkeus Dainlei | Kisaku Oroken

"Whomever gets in our way, yes. We take them out quickly. Our only goal is to destroy that chamber so it can't be used against the others below. They assume bringing this ship will win the war. We'll prove them otherwise." The plan was simple enough, at least. A soft chuckle escaped her though as Saket asked for snacks. This was their first time actually working together. He was.. An interesting individual from what Alisteri had told her. He was the kind of Sith she wanted to prosper. Those who knew the difference between using hate and being a slave to it.

If she was going to take over this Empire and change it, she'd need as many Sith like that on her side as she could get.

There was a beep on the console before them. Time to start. Alina pulled on her helmet to cover her face, but not before flashing Alisteri a wink. Her voice, now warped by the mask's voice modulator. "Remember, stick together. And don't use your powers if you don't have to. The amulets only work if we don't. Otherwise.. Well. Be ready to run like hell to the objective." She moved to the ramp of the ship. It'd drop them off, quickly, then fly out of range. Their way off was likely going to be an escape pod. Or.. Twenty. That was that half of the mission.

For now.. Once the ship was inside Alina was the first to hop off. A secluded section of the ship, where she could hop down, out of sight and immediately into a small room. Closet? Probably. Then she hit the button. The Sithspawn within would be unleashed to start hunting. Eating. Multiplying. The distraction was sent. She'd keep the other two with her in the smaller space until she was sure the creatures were gone.

".. Alright. Let's go."

 

[Marlon Sularen]

Location | Alliance One , Orbit of Ziost
Objective | Survive and Escape [Preservation of Liberty]
Tags [GA and Allies] | Aerarii Tithe | Enlil | Rurik Fel | Kainan | Kinoan | Fisk Kamer | Paz Koon
Tags [Enemies] | Ingrid L'lerim

​

“Action stations, action stations, set condition one throughout the ship - this is not a drill. I say again, action stations, action stations…”

Tension was high here onboard Alliance One. Just hours after rejoining the Alliance Fleet above Ziost , the Diplomatic Vessel had found itself under attack from Sith-Imperial Naval Forces who had established a Blockade over Ziost to prevent the Alliance frome escaping from the Planet. The Situation was dire and Sularen already knew that the Forces on the surface had to be exhausted and tired. Meanwhile as all hell broke loose around him , the Lord-Imperator of Byss sat down calmly playing a game of Holochess against an AI patiently waiting for the end of the Battle.

Then as the Lord-Imperator was about to win the game , an announcement surprised him causing him to misclick and allow the AI to gain the advantage over him. While Sularen was a bit annoyed , what the Announcer said was quite concerning and demanded his immediate attention

“All hands, all hands, yes this is Vice Chancellor Tithe, We are under assailment from hostile belligerents. Passengers, ah, please make your way to the escape pods.”

"Great! Just as things couldn't get better" Sularen said still annoyed at the current situation. He had dragged his ass here to Ziost in order to regain the trust of the Alliance and now found himself in the middle of a Warzone , without an Army to command. However what surprised the Lord-Imperator was that Vice-Chancellor Tithe was ready to abandon Ship despite the fact that it was 7 kilometers long and it would take hours for these hostile belligerents to take over the Ship. From what the Lord-Imperator knew the safety of the Senators were not compromised at this point and thus the Lord-Imperator remained in his seat , forfeiting his current match of Holochess and starting a new one.

Soon enough one of his Guards burst through the door once more surprising the Lord-Imperator. As he turned around to see who it was Sularen saw Shawn Hunter , Captain of Sularen's Personal Guard , the Crimson Guardians. "Sir we need to get you to the Escape Pods as the Vice-Chancellor Suggested" Captain Hunter said. "No need , Captain" Sularen replied with a smile. "I'm sure this threat is minor and these boarders whoever they are will be repelled in no time. Return to your station and stay on high alert just in case Captain , that is an order." Captain Hunter stood there for a few seconds before nodding and leaving Sularen alone once more in his room , allowing the Lord-Imperator to resume his game of Holochess. This was going to be a long Day Sularen thought , but atleast one he could enjoy.

 

[Darth Strosius]

Location: Aboard Alina's ship
Objective 2: Destroy the Meditation Chamber aboard the Prosperity
Equipment: Lightsaber
Allies: TSE / Terrible Trio
Enemies: GA / NIO
Tags: Alina Tremiru / Saket Keane / Auteme / Kisaku Oroken / Okkeus Dainlei / Aaran Tafo
-----------------------------------------

Alisteri did his best not to smile as he heard Saket messing around in his chair, idly flexing his shoulder to cover up a stifled chuckle. He could hardly judge the other Acolyte after all, fancy ships made him excited as well. This one was certainly a step up above the shuttles that the Legionnaires usually used, that was for sure. "Glad we're all agreed then." It had been far too long since he had the chance to fight alongside Saket, and he had never fought alongside both him and Alina together.

Suffice to say that it was going to be a very interesting mission.

"Snacks? Uh...I didn't bring any." He patted along his pockets just in case, but no avail. "Well, maybe we can stop by their cafeteria on the way out? Or hope they have a vending machine somewhere? Can't have a meditation chamber without a vending machine close by."

The young man did his best to not get flushed at the wink Alina shot him, choosing to take a small moment to stretch before they departed. Feth she even looks good in a helmet.

The strange creatures, evidently some form of what he was told was 'Sithspawn' would be their distraction. Their loud, angry, and very hungry distraction. No doubt they'd cause quite a stir once they were set loose. He almost wished that he could be there to see it. Being squished into a small closet with his fellow Sith was far from his ideal hiding place, but he'd rather be in there than out with those...whatever they were.

Note to self, Saket has very sharp elbows.

Even after they had waited and exited the closet, he could hear them further down the hall as they sought to feed and replicate. A small wince for the alarm that was no doubt about to sound was the only thought that he gave to the beasts for the moment though. They still had to make their way to the chamber unhindered and unnoticed after all.

 

[Hiram Voss]

T I C K T O C K
Objective II
Unternehemen Justicar
Task Force Malicious Pride
Allies: Maijan Paisea | Teica Giraan | Aerarii Tithe | Arcturus Tal | Scourge Harz
Enemies: Sith Scum

There was a certain perverse nature to the the presence of the NIV Malice. The Malice was a warhorse. An old one. Older than some of the crew scurrying about beneath Vice Admiral Voss. The Malice back when she held the designation, FIV, had been the flag of then Admiral Rausgeber during the Second Galactic Alliance war. It had been the vessel present through dozens of campaigns against the Galactic Alliance of old. And yet now the vessel sat as apart of the orbiting fleet, rescuing another Galactic Alliance from Sith folly. What would have Rausgeber of that time thought if his precious flagship were here now? Although from Hiram Voss' permanently grim demeanour one wouldn't be able to guess the smirk pressed internally.

His boots clicked across the armoured plating of the command deck, watching as men and women far younger than he moved to their posts. Listening as they chirped out technical data and reports. Systems were online. "Vice Admiral," A call from the other side of the bridge resonated. Commander Hadrian Boars. His executive who seemed to contrast with the Vice Admiral in every facet. Age. Height. Experience. "Fleet is in position sir. Primed for attack pattern Brutus One." Boars reported, "We are ready to move in on your mark sir." The Commander barked with the enthusiasm of a young pup.

Hiram contemplated his movements on the holographic display. "We will hold here for now." The Vice Admiral growled, eyeing the fleets about. "We will not allow ourselves to be drawn in anywhere yet." He paused and watched as the stage was set and the players began to manifest themselves around the void. It would be a fascinating battle to come. "Patch us in to local ground forces command, and strategic channels and-!" He was cut off by the visage of escape pods being launched from one of the Alliance vessels. Cowards. Who were they to abandon ship this early? The fray had not even begun properly and already their lines fractured. But he wouldn't allow this to not be some propaganda boon for the New Imperial war machine. "Dispatch fighter wing Bruggar," The Vice Admiral sneered, "Alert all commands to dispatch squadrons. Have them and us send some shuttles, move and push them out of harms way."

"Let them know, the Admiral Regent's representative has arrived."

Spoiler: Fleet Composition

NIV Malice
Reprisal-Class Star Destroyer

NIV Cordon
Tararus-Class Interdictor (x)

NIV Liege
New Imperial-I Class Star Destroyer (x)

NIV Fury
New Imperial-I Class Star Destroyer

NIV Prosecution
New Imperial-I Class Star Destroyer

NIV Brigand
Cuirassier-Class Cruiser (x)

NIV Blight
Cuirassier-Class Cruiser

NIV Nova Avalonia
Cuirassier-Class Cruiser

NIV Rage
Cuirassier-Class Cruiser

NIV Carnivore
Cuirassier-Class Cruiser

NIV Monstrous
Cuirassier-Class Cruiser

4x Tirallisuer-Class Frigates (x)

8x Escolta-Class Escort Frigates (x)

3x Dragoon-Class Frigates (x)

15x Warrior II Gunships (x)

9x Gurkha-Class Corvettes (x)

8x Cacadore-Class Corvettes (x)

Fighter comp to come later when not sleep deprived. Current actions are really just fluff. Pls no bully.

 

[First Sister]

Location: Midnight Reaver, Boarding Prosperity
Allies: TSE ( Alina Tremiru Darth Strosius Saket Keane )
Enemies: GA ( Kaska Arden Dagon Kaze Michael Sardun ) │ NIO

​

Two Days Before, Malsheem

​

It was too hard to live with the truth.

Nothing of her reality made sense any more. Where once the galaxy had been simple and clear, it was now a complex web of lies and half-truths, far too arduous for her young mind to handle. Sleep had once been a peaceful respite, but now, everything she closed her eyes, she was met with a torrent of crippling thoughts that threatened to unravel everything she had dedicated her life to up until that point. The soothing, paternal voice of her Eternal Father had fallen silent, his presence no longer active to reinforce her commitment to his Eclipsing Mission. Instead, her mind had been corrupted with unorthodox, bordering on heretical thoughts, constantly casting doubt where once, there had been none, making her question even the most basic aspects of her own existence.

No, she could not live with it, not for a moment longer.

Whatever the Sith Eternal had done to her on Korriban, she sought to have it reversed, almost as if it had never happened.

And so, the Sister presented herself before her Master, laying bare everything that had happened on Korriban and the heretical thoughts that had beset her mind since then, though he likely was already aware of what she had been through during her stint of study on the sacred world. In doing so, the Qilin asked of him only one thing.

To make things the way they had been before.

“Your wish shall be granted, my child.”
​

The First Sister closed in on the Prosperity, accompanied by no one and nothing.

It was not often that members of the New Sith Order were asked to work alone, especially Acolytes. Most of the Sister’s training had been geared towards teamwork, coordinating her powers with other Sith, as the collective was always stronger than the individual. However, as an apprentice of the Eternal Father himself, she occupied a unique, if not highly sought-after position for Acolytes of the Order. As such, her failure on Korriban and the subsequent humiliation she had undergone at the hands of the heretical Sith Eternal could not go unanswered. She had to prove to herself and to her peers that she was worthy of his personal attention and investment, or else, she was nothing but a waste of resources better used on someone more capable.

Infiltrating a dreadnought full of Jedi, accompanied by nothing but her own weapons and armor, was nothing short of a suicidal plan. However, if she did not prove herself to be exceptional, how could she justify standing in the presence of a God, much less enjoying his direct attention on a daily basis?

Such rank individualism almost felt heretical, but Father had not chastised her for it. Rather, he had gently inspired her, his paternal voice a soothing presence in her mind as she knelt in prayer within the boarding pod, beseeching him to purge weakness from her soul and to recast it as strength. The ur-Kittât flowed like whitewater from her lips, even as the interior of the pod shuddered upon making contact with the Prosperity’s robust shields, red lights flashing within the cabin before finally falling silent when the vessel achieved penetration.

As the bay doors slid out to reveal the yawning interior of the Jedi dreadnought, her eyes snapped open, focused with the torrential power of the Dark Side.

Then, the tiny electromancer moved inside, intent upon the meditation sphere.

Spoiler: Loadout

• First Sister’s Sith Uniform
  • Undersuit
    • UL-14 “Virtus” Class Underlay
  • Energy Shield(s)
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
  • Alchemical Talisman(s)
    • Jin'Wodasir - Pins of Protection (2)
    • Talisman of Concentration
  • Left Wrist
    • ACS-207 Cryo-Ban Gun
    • Wide-Beam Sonic Stunner
    • Universal Gas Launcher
      • Pink Vapor
  • Right Wrist
    • ACS-208 Wrist Tensor
    • Wide-Beam Sonic Stunner
    • Universal Gas Launcher
      • Vertigon Gas
  • Utility Belt
    • FAE/U-01 "Serenity" Anti-Signal Field System
    • Empyrean Infusion
• Miniaturized Double-Bladed Spinning Lightsaber
• Whimsy Knife
• DL-13 Holdout Blaster

 

[Seto Du Couteau]

Seto Du Couteau, Senator of Empress Teta
Location: Prosperity
Objective Two: Preservation of Liberty
Action: Listen and Speak
Equipment: REC-EVS/01 "Sohei" - Pattern Electro-Vibrosword
Attire

Interaction: || Brama Tagge | Vexander Graves ||​

​

The diplomatic talks had taken a rather drastic turn for the worst, Seto continued to scroll through his data-slate and wondered if his presence would have made a difference. He had originally been more focused on more subtle business transactions to help provide both aid and information on any Sith business ties that were connected with any Company that were located within Alliance space. The last few months had shown Seto that the Senate were acting a tad more aggressive towards Sith and Sith sympathizers, regardless if they were still in businesses or held loose connections with the Alliance's current warring enemy. ​

​

Corporate Espionage is legal if it’s against warring entities. In that perspective, it’s just espionage, if anything it made me more patriotic. Seto mused silently to himself as he walked up the hallway.​

​

Footsteps echoing as an alarm blared to life and a voice followed soon after with the warning of Sith Intruders and orders for evacuation for non-combatants. This call to action gave Seto pause, his eyebrow raised as he continued to walk before finding himself near Senator Tagge and her entourage. I should probably find an aide this loyal and fearless. Senator Brama Tagge was someone that held this aura confidence was even Seto had to admit was a bit magnetic. Seto had made himself a promise to make sure that he offered her a reason to smile at him whenever possible, someone to keep good graces with. When Senator Tagge turned to give Seto a question, he bowed with his usual charming smile ever present as the snowy hair on his head. ​

​

“Aggression was never my forte, but I am more than capable of keeping my clothes free of any sort of stains or tears. Even from those who throw destructive tantrums at tea parties.” Seto offered, his head nodding only once before turning around to focus on the Jedi that had materialized quite suddenly. Had I’d been followed or was he here this entire time? ​

​

The young Du Couteau heir gently caressed the hilt of his sword that he had brought along with him, something he felt he needed when entering Sith territory. Not for protection, but more for a good photoshoot if the occasion ever arrived for one. Maybe I shouldn’t have left my lightsabers back home, collecting dust. Seto wanted to laugh, but restrained himself by keeping up his smile. The absurdity of it all, and a part of him wondered if his Force senses were indeed waning from his disuse of them these past few months. Here I thought Force Users had precognition. ​

​

But if there are Sith taking part in the boarding party, I’m sure our kind Jedi Defender will be the one to attract them. Seto was hardly a coward, but he wasn’t about to out himself as a Force User if he couldn't help it. Maybe I should go find that utility tool if I need another weapon, what was that thing the soldiers called? Batillum? Seto thought as he turned his attention back to Senator Tagge. ​

​

“We should keep an escape route in mind.” Seto agreed, his eyes turned in the direction of where the breach probably was, “-but I’d be a terrible host if I don’t make sure our guests behave and not cause too much of a racket.” His grin grew into something wicked, before it returned back to a gentle and warm expression as Seto turned to face both Senator Tagge and Master Graves, his eyes shimmering a brilliant sapphire colour. ​

​

“I can go make sure the evacuation for the others in this ship are going ahead smoothly.” Seto offered, his eyes turned back to Senator Tagge.​

​

“I’ll be sure to be wary of my frowns if I require use of them.” Seto added with a small bow of his head in appreciation to her advice given to him far back in the past. ​

​

​

 

[Darth Kentarch]

REMNANTS OF DUSTS
Foothills outside New Adasta
WEAPONS: LIGHTSABER | NIGHTFALL | DUSKFALL
ALLIES: GA
ENEMIES: TSE​

He was trapped. The siege and subsequent blockade by the Sith Empire prevented his escape. Darth Kentarch was surrounded by enemies. Jedi, Sith Imperials, and now the NIO. Kentarch believed the Jedi would win the day when they invaded Ziost. He was wrong. Now he'd spent the past two and half weeks on Ziost, evading Jedi and fighting his fellow Sith who labeled him a heretic.

However, Kentarch would not sit idly by and let the Sith Empire claim victory. In the time he was trapped planetside he waged his one-man guerrilla campaign during the siege of New Adasta. Sith Lords and senior officers leading soldiers were assassinated and removed quickly and quietly in the nights. Equipment was sabotaged, the rogue Sith Lord had run his lightsaber clean through several engine blocks of enemy armored vehicles. Another time he managed to sneak inside a supply depot, then with clever use of some timed detonators destroy an entire weapon stockpile.

Yet as the siege drew on, his enemy had adapted to tactics. Sith forces were getting better at anticipating when he was likely to strike. Which typically was before dawn or during the twilight hours of the evening. Security was increased for essential personnel, and extra guards were used at motor pools and supply depots. The Sith Empire still had command over large resources and vast amounts of manpower. He doubted if his actions had been and strategic signification other than buying a few minutes here and there for GA defenders of New Adasta.

Kentarch was now deep behind Sith Imperial lines waiting for another opportunity to strike. Watching the siege play itself from a distance, he sensed a disturbance in the force.

"Well if at first you don't succeed..." Kentarch muttered to himself, his tone clearly disappointed. Dark clouds began once again began to form in the skies. Kentarch had stolen the astrium containing the dark side nexus. He had hoped his ungrateful hostess would have left behind any ambitions to destroy the Jedi and GA forces in some dark side ritual. While the portable dark-side nexus was a powerful tool, Kentarch had yet to use it. Instead, he waited for the right moment to present itself. Now it seemed Darth Arcanix had accelerated her timetable to ensure the ritual would succeed this time. This created a dilemma for Kentarch. The Jedi had been driven from the Sith Academy, and the area would be secure likely by several sith. Before he could simply waltz in unnoticed while everyone was too busy trying to murder each other. Now was a different story. He would be alone, and the Sith in the Academy would likely be on the lookout for him.

Kentarch looked in the distance to the Sorzus Academy, then turned to the city of New Adasta. "There was no trap the first time..." He again spoke to himself. He drew up in his mind an image of a specific spot within the Academy. His black gloved hand clasped the astrium and he drew upon it's power.

The second time there would be no friendly conversation.

 

[Jak Ross]

Objective: Protect fellow Senators
Allies: Aerarii Tithe | Adhira Chandra | Marlon Sularen | Shoma Ike | Kainan | Rurik Fel
Enemies: Ingrid L'lerim
Items: Lightsaber

This was more action than the new senator would have liked.

For most of the initial negotiation, he had merely watched. His views were never about war or politics, but about preserving life. The only reason he had become a senator in the first place was to help protect the ancient history of his home world, Had Abbadon. Now? Well in any second there would be Sith Empire forces boarding the ship, more than likely killing him and the other senators.

He watched as many people rushed by him, trying to make their way to the escape pods. Vice Chair Tithe had a point. They should be exiting the ship, making there way to safety. But as soon as the pods launched, they would be throw into an active warzone. Out the viewport he watched as more and more ships arrived. The large Imperial fleet looked as if they were preparing to fire.

Escape chances were looking slim. That meant only one other option. They stay and fight.

Unclipping his lightsaber he brought it down to his side. Flicking the switch he watched as the blue blade illuminated the hallway. No sign of help was there yet, but he sure hope there would be. Becuase one semi-trained Jedi versus however many Sith didn't seem like a fair fight.

Then again, when was the universe ever fair on someone.

​

 

[Kole Eckttor]

Location: Ziost surface
Objective: Get off of this nerfing planet
Allies: Mazrim Caide/Taim
Enemies: Anyone firing on him
Ship: The Flying Bantha

———
​

Screw everyone.

Screw the Sith, screw the Alliance, screw the Imperials, screw them all.

If it weren't for that force-forsaken gravity well, he wouldn't be in this mess in the first place. Sure, taking an unknown hyperlane through Sith territory wasn't the best of ideas. He realized that now. But no one told him an entire war was happening. A simple heads up at the last cantina would have been nice.

Now, his poor, beautiful ship was nose-first into the Ziost surface with a severely damaged thruster. It would be a miricale if he made it off the planet with three, but in the middle of a warzone? No way in kark. The only chance he had was finding parts, and fast. It didn't help that the blaster fire was getting louder and louder.

Shutting off his ship he made sure to grab a backup blaster pistol from his desk. Better to be safe than sorry. And he was glad he did. Walking out of the ship he noticed a person nearby. Not taking any chances he lifted the weapon.

"Hey, you! Get out of here before I put a blaster hole through your shoulder. I don't want trouble but I'm willing to kill yah if I have to."

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

I M P E R A T O R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
TASK FORCE IMPERATOR | BATTLE GROUP 'ENIGMA'
501st LEGION | GLADIUS COMPANY | DEMON COMPANY
ZIOST
Armor | Rifle | Pistol | Void | Melee | Grenades

LIKE ITS THE END
​

The signal of life went blank on Helgard. Lyra. Gone. At his great resurgence, his great return into the fray of battle, the venue which had suited him as good as any home he'd ever had, his triumph paled in the vantablack shadow of her supposed death. But in a way, it was the last tether to his truest person cut. Tyrell, Dantooine, Kenth all some of the last.

That progressive breakdown of a mortal man.

It began on Kintan and slowly the marble be chipped away at. From the featureless block in its beginning, to the man imprisoned beneath. As much as he was the feeble man which solely existed within the crude matter of the universe, he would rise to be the demon. To cast the fire at the gods who trembled with each slip of their fingers from the high place. To plummet to their final Gotterdammerung.

"The search turned up nothing, sir." Visek said, as far as the 501st went, he was one of the closer confidants to his command. The Umbaran found himself in that position being one of the few troopers to follow Tavlar all the way back from before Kintan. And his age and veterancy showed in the scars and old tibanna wounds that marred his pale skin.

"Except this..." He turned toward Irveric, presenting the ebon helmet shattered in electric fury with the crimson markings of the Red Riders lining the armor's features. He took ahold of it with a narrow gaze, staring down the armored visage with his own. If he could will the strength, he wanted to shatter the artifact of sorrow in his hands but couldn't command his muscles nor mind to will it to being.

"Continue the search...until every lead is cold."

"Sir-"

"I'll not ask again."

"Yes, sir."

He was as close to the breaking point now as ever, the fuse continuing to run since it began to burn in the wake of Dantooine, in the wake of his failed return home.

Soon, the spark would reach the end. And all would detonate.

THROUGH THE BREACH
​

Light called. Iron answered. Following the dominant victory of the Order at Helgard, there was little respite before the war machine of the Iron Sun began to turn once more. Ziost. The arid hell of a world. Blank and desolate as all the other rocks that the Sith venerated. Some 'holy land', there was no value in the dust, only in making the Sith bleed more for it than they ever would.

He looked down the rows of Stormtroopers before him. Each face uniform one next to the other. The shared visage of the True Empire. Sons and daughters of Empire. Remaining etched in that duraplast, the numbers and designations of each of the fallen. It was everything short of a 501st tradition by now. Certainly until the fight was finished and this war was over would they pay ode to the fallen brothers. Each set of letters and numbers a valiant soul. A memory.

Within the composite steel belly of the AT-ATx he stood at the center of the bottom rack of the troop bay, hearing the audible, foreboding shriek and metallic clatter of each heavy footfall. In these moments, the war felt small. The Galactic positioning of where he was, where he stood in relation to Dromund Kaas, Korriban, the heart of darkness all but a distant thought. All the mattered now was the here and now. That instinctive protectiveness of his soldiers took the center stage of his consciousness. In spite of the monolithic command he wielded, he would make sure his presence on the battlefield acted as more than baltant symbolism. That he stood where the Sith'ari refused to. But he would alter the course as he saw fit.

He who controls the battlefield controls history.

As the Starbird flourished in defiance within its beaming light against the creeping shadow of darkness, the Iron Sun would come to form its eclipse. It was a dogged defense here in New Adasta. Nigh concurrent to the Empire's offensive at Helgard, the Alliance struck hard and fast to compound upon the hard fought victory at Korriban and Felucia. But all light is due to fade eventually.

Iron.

Iron never bends. Iron never falters.

<"The Seventh Marines are bogged down in the middle of it, Sith dropping down all over them...civilians are present, no doubt the Sith'll try and rile them up. Shades of Garang..."> The Stormtrooper Commander, Bastion born human by the name of Gavyn Typhee spoke up in candid agitation.

<"Yeah well- no playing candy ass with it any more...get so much as a scent of some insurgent, you give em the smoke. I'm not losing any of the boys because we hesitated. After all..."> He looked over his shoulder, the direction of the Sovereign Imperator.

<"This isn't Dantooine...those were the Boss's people, they were gonna be ours too, but...Ziost? Kill em all I say..."> He said, glancing to the walls of the assault transport. A few blaster bolts of a heavier payload cracked against the troop bay of the walker, but the constant roaring pace of the walker assured them all their approach would not falter.

Beneath the frigid gaze of his helmet, he was the warrior king once more. Leading from the front. No longer bound to the grey and laurels that the more political demands of his position made of him.

Then, the lights illuminating the troop cabin shined a stark crimson. The hard coded training beat into them to form the foundation of a deep laden instinct took over and they turned from their seats to line up in order to the rappel line which no slowly moved along its hydraulic rail into position. The composite hull yawned open and the fire and fury of the outskirts of New Adasta gave way. The first troopers grasped ahold of the line before sliding down unto the broken ground beneath, unslung their rifles and made way forward. Speeder bikes dropped down from their launch bays and followed in all the same.

The aerial assault of the Sith brought the rain down unto the approaching New Imperials, not like they hadn't heard this music time and time again.

Irveric was one of the last out. And he wouldn't leave Ziost until the work was done.

He walked in line with the rest, his rifle slung over his chest, his posture high and unnerved by the cacophony of chaos and carnage that erupted around him.

It was war.

It couldn't be better.

Demon Company wasn't far behind the Imperator's Fist.

He knew damn well of Tulan Kor and the poetic irony that he would be here, to aid the Galactic Alliance in its most dire hour.

Irveric seemed to have his will about him in battle, unrattled by the nearby shock of turbolasers and explosions. He'd been through it all before.

With the rear of their assault secure, the 501st pressing onward past the AT-SBs which would no doubt act as the New Imperial means of turning New Adasta to the black cauldron in which it'd lock the Sith holdouts within and pound them to dust. He sought Demon Company's Commander personally.

<"Commander."> He reached his arm out to take the former Antarian's with a show of respect and greeting.

<"You don't seem the one to go into battle uninformed but do you know the situation that awaits us within New Adasta? It's dirty, Sith bearing down from ontop of us, civilians, insurgents. But I know you and your men thrive in these conditions..."> Irveric states. He wanted to spark a cigar alight as he spoke in the shadow of the lumbering walkers but relented, he liked the sensory masking of the helmet around him anyway.

ALLIES | NIO | GA | Tulan Kor | Jorus Fel | DECEASED Erskine Barran | Willan Tal | Kal Ostan | Cotan Sar'andor | Captain Raith
ENEMIES | TSE | Irina Volkov | Valen | OPEN

 

[Fisk Kamer]

Objective: Duel with some peeps
Allies: Kinoan
Enemies: Laertia Io | Maple Harte
Items: Lightsaber, Lightsaber

———
​

"Big ol battles were never my type of thing. I'm personally more of a fan of one on one combat. How about you?"

As Fisk's walked along with the Jedi knight, he recalled their meeting they just had a few minutes ago. They both entered into a broken building. The hum of the lightsabers kept them both on edge. As soon as they rounded the corner and realized neither were Sith, they had a small laugh. Now they were partially best friends.

"Yeah, I'm not a fan of large scale attacks either. I'd rather get up-close-and-personal to beat up someone."

Man, what a day this had been. First he was called out of the nice, comfy temple to go fight on some planet he had never heard of. Next, he nearly died getting transported down here with the others. Sketchy ride that was. But hey, at least he made a friend out of it. Fisk may be an Imperial Knight...and also a Mon Calamari, but they felt like brothers.

"I don't get why people like fighting armies versus arm-look out!"

Fisk pushed Kino forward and nearly toppled on top of the Jedi himself. A large chunk of ship fell down from a wrecked ship, almost crushing them. Quickly standing up he looked upon the large chunk of metal. It wasn't that long after that it burst into flames. Ouch.

"That could have gone horribly wrong. Thanks for the save back there Fisk."

Something felt off. Instantly he sensed another presence in the force. Scratch that, two presences. Turning away from the wreckage he only saw a small dust cloud and flames on the other side. But someone else was here, he could sense it.

"Hey, both of you, show yourselves!"

Unclipping his lightsaber from his belt he held it in both hands. With a press of a button the golden yellow blade sprung outward. This was soon followed by Fisk's white blade. Whoever was out there better show themselves soon, or they wouldn't take any more chances.

Spoiler: OOC

To avoid any confusion, from here on out Fisk’s words will be in white, while Kino’s will be in yellow. After that person talks, a paragraph will follow with action type stuff. That text will correspond with the most recent character who spoke. Hope this helps!!