Invasion Hubris of Empires | The Cold War | Invasion of Ilum [Empire vs. Alliance]

[Amani Serys]

Objective II
Engaging: Zoraya Ives-Ayres
Equipment: In bio

Amani stared expectantly, hoping that the pause might have meant there was a genuine change of heart at play. In any case, Zoraya felt compelled to keep going. Her initial hesitance was tangible, but it didn't change the fact that this was now a fight for survival. At least, for Amani it was.

The knuckle blade popped out and connected with her left arm, spurring a brief yelp from the Jedi and forcing her to relinquish her leverage. Amani lurched back several steps and Force pulled her saber into her hand. The blade burst forth, illuminating the room with a cerulean hue. She looked to her arm, where the blade had left a fine cut through the sleeve and into her flesh. Red brimmed over and ran down, staining the fabric. It was a small injury, but a serviceable wake-up call.

Amani pointed her saber at the agent, "Where are the padawans?" In the event that Zoraya tried for another attack, she would attempt to swipe at the agent's arm and disable her weapon. Or, lop off her arm, if forced to.

 

[Hacks]

​

Kyell held Hacks' at bay, but he was losing ground under her mechanical strength. She slapped the trigger once more on her railguns and saw Kyell roll away with the shot, grazed. She raised the railgun and took aim, ready to turn skull and brain to confetti, but when she pulled the trigger nothing happened. It was empty. She swore aloud and tossed the guns aside.

Then he was on her. His lightsaber came upon her with fluid, measured movements that she simply could not compete with as her crude swings were countered. She felt the burn of the lightsaber against her jacket and pants, tearing away the fabric. Through the tears one could see the layers of metal plates that made up the slicers body. A cybernetic freak.

Unaware of Miri advanced from a flanking position, Hacks kept her focus forward, her tunnel vision narrowed on the Jedi. He swung once more and she attempted to block but the blade was battered aside and then she felt something horrible. A disconnection. Crimson warnings flashed across her glasses as she shrieked in pain and retreated away from Kyell.

[ WARNING: Lower Left Hand OFFLINE ]

Coolant and hydraulic fluid leaked from a mechanical wrist, the metal hand motionless on the floor beneath the Jedi blade. Her eyes darted frantically around the room. I'm going to die here, she thought with rising panic in her throat, I'm going to bloody die here. Her eyes raced around the room and paused on the speaker system above.

[ Audioreceptors OFFLINE ]

With a thought she turned off her receptors, and in that instant the sirens began to blare, the speakers squealed in unison with an ear-piercing banshees shrill.

Miri Nimdok - Kyell Laysel

 

[Miri Nimdok]

Kyell’s response sounded strained, and he was clearly struggling to keep up with the cyborg, so Miri avoided any further telepathic messages that might distract him. Instead she focused on getting closer, occasionally firing a shot here and there to harry Hacks’ attacks.

Finally, she reached the spot she was hoping for—behind a desk almost directly behind Hacks. She holstered her pistols with a gunslinger’s grace, exchanging them easily for the Dragon’s Breath. She loaded it up with incendiary ammo, took aim, and…

Sirens blared. Miri cringed. Her pointed ears were more sensitive than a typical human’s. It wasn’t enough to put her out of commission, but it left her disoriented and rather angry.

Gritting her teeth, she drew one of her other pistols and fired at the nearest speaker, destroying it. Other speakers would continue to blare, of course, but at least it wasn’t right on top of her. Then she turned the Dragon’s Breath on Hacks.

<Now, Kyell!>

She pulled the trigger. The slug should have combusted on impact, creating a blast of fiery heat that could melt metal, but there was only a one in three chance of it actually igniting.

So just to be safe, she fired two more times, three in total.

Kyell Laysel Hacks​

 

[Kel Se'Taav]

INVASION OF ILUM
Hubris of Empires #1

Location: Senate Intelligence Briefing Room, Coruscant
Tags: Auteme ; IVI ; Dracken Pryce ; Forlan Norsama ; Ronval Rubat
Objective: Monitor the situation
Soundtrack: Situation Room

The reports were sporadic at best, and the fragments of intelligence that did make it to the briefing room were incomplete and hard to believe. Despite this, one thing was very clear: The Galactic Alliance was once again at war.

“Imperial bastards…” Kel muttered under his breath as he skimmed over a datapad.

They were smart, he’d give them that. Waiting for the moment the Alliance turned the tide of the Second Great Hyperspace War was a brilliant maneuver, but it came unexpectedly… and, so it seemed, with a message.

Kel didn’t have to use his experience as a military commander to know that Ilum held little strategic value to an invading force like the Empire, let alone warrant the overwhelming forces with which they struck. No, the Ilum ambush was something more. More than the end of a cold truce. More than a declaration of war. This was a challenge. A wager.

The Maw attack on Tython was unprecedented, and both the Alliance and the New Jedi Order were left reeling after the battle was over. Ilum felt different somehow. The Brotherhood’s invasion was a cruel and evil gesture, but it was carried out with a goal in mind: To exterminate the Jedi from the galaxy. With the Imperials, it felt as though they were attacking Ilum simply because they can. To make an example of their power and the evil they’re willing to perform.

It was a particularly painful thing to see the Jedi under attack once again, and Kel could sense that pain reverberating through Auteme as he approached her. The Senator offered her a respectful bow, dipping his head decisively. Not a moment later, the Director of Strategic Intelligence arrived.

Auteme was quick to request a sit-rep.

"Director," her voice cut through all the noise, the note of anger unmistakable, "deliver your report. Quickly."

The Bothan’s shrewd eyes watched carefully. He was eager to hear what news the Director had.

 

[Hacks]

Hacks stumbled away from Kyell, her blades fell to the floor, she clutched her wrist. The metal was warped and the coolant and hydraulic oil pooled around her feet. Was this how cyborgs bled to death? She thought with grim amusement. The speakers were silent, but she saw their status on her glasses. She just needed to escape before it was too late. Unfortunately, it already was for the slicer.

Unable to hear Miri behind her and her focus on Kyell, Hacks had forgotten there had been two of them in the room when they entered. Then she felt something slam into the back of her, and she stumbled forward towards Kyell. Her feet slid on the frost as she dared to gain balance, then again something crashed into her. Her right shoulder exploded in shrapnel, wires and micrplates.

[ WARNING: Right Shoulder, Right Upper Arm OFFLINE ]

Time felt to slow, her mind raced with spice and panic. The lights came on with a thought, the blast shields raised. Her plastic eyes locked on the door, her mind screamed at her to run. Then it hit her again. She fell forward and regained her footing, sprinting past Kyell. The door opened to welcome her but she was slowing. Why was she slowing? she thought, her eyes looked down and fire had engulfed her.

In her panic she had not even realised she had been hit by an incendiary round. She whipped around to look around the room, eyes wide in terror. Her heavy jacket and leather pants melted away, then her mechanical arms and legs began to slag. She shrieked in total abject horror. She tried to walk forward towards the door and her legs folded out from under her and she collapsed.

I don't want to die, she thought, I was just doing my job, and they killed me. She crawled, dragging herself by her two good arms left, her other metal arm limp and hanging by only a few cables, the fourth unmoving, melted by the intense flame. She stopped moving when she reached the door. Her breathing heavy, but growing faint.

 

[Judah Lesan]

.

Wearing: xxx
Weapon: xxx x2
Allies: Caltin Vanagor | Caedyn Arenais | Domina Prime
Enemies: Koda Fett | Varm Nul

An explosion ripped through the hangar bay. An eternity seemed to pass as time slowed almost to a halt. Speeding up his movements Judah looked at the carnage as it unfolded in what could only be described as slow motion. His eyes searched for the source, following the trace ripples in the air to its origin.

Koda Fett .

His eyes locked in on the bounty hunter as he began to slow his movements allowing time to speed up once more.

“Caltin! We can’t stay here, we need to finish the objective”

Sound wisdom found its way to Judah’s ears even though it had not been meant for him. There would be plenty of opportunity for Judah to engage the bounty hunter. It seemed everyone’s attention was focused on him rather than the other. Judah shifted his focus. Too many seemed to be pinned down, and Judah had to find a way out of the hangar bay.

Closing his eyes for a brief moment the master Jedi calmed himself long enough to isolate a ventilation shaft just large enough for him to fit inside. It was not a glamorous task, not like many of the action packed holovids seemed to display it as. Most of the shafts were full of dust and other things and were always way more cramped than they appeared at first glance.

Still, the few minutes spent inside the ventilation shaft would allow Judah to flank their enemy. Or so he hoped.

<< “Give me just a few more minutes boys. I think I found a solution.” >>

His mind reached out to the others in his party. Whether they picked up on his telepathy or not he proceeded. Leaping into rafters, Judah started to make his way for the vent cover.

It was a complete gamble as the path was not as hidden as he wanted it to be. Any of the enemy could happen to look up and see a green clad Jedi running across and leaping about the ceiling like some crazy acrobat. Judah could not use his lightsabers to deflect any shots for fear he might accidently cut through any of the supports that were holding him up. No, he would have to rely on his allies to keep him safe for just a moment longer.

Judah was nearly there, just one more leap…

…and…

 

[Khael Vhijaric]

Location: Ilum
Engaging: Nuruodo'kal'brast

The Fight Of Your Life​

Khael knelt at the precipice of an ice cliff, pressing his gloved hand to the ground. The vibrations from nearby Imperial seismic drills were causing the earth to tremble like an addict suffering from withdrawal shakes. The noise was a constant bass thrumming that seemed to vibrate the eardrums, but its effects were dulled by Khael's buy'ce, just as his entire body was kept warm by the thermal bodyglove, topped by his durasteel beskar'gam, that he had donned specifically for the biting chill of Ilum.

He focused his HUD on the Imperial mining outpost below, built as it was into the side of the cliff face he was perched at the edge of. There were a few squat buildings surrounding countless examples of machinery ranging in size from a small speeder to a hulking AT-AT. Khael couldn't pretend to understand the nature of any of the technical equipment down there, but then again he wasn't here for that. He was here for one thing he understood very well: to sow chaos. He was surprised to receive a request from Valery, the Jedi Master he had met on Kestri, asking if he could aid the Alliance in responding to the audacious invasion of Ilum by the Empire. They had formed an odd friendship during their talks, the Mandalorian and the Jedi, but Khael respected her for the superlative warrior she was, and was glad to be able to assist on such an important endeavour as this.

The unleashing of some kind of superweapon in orbit was a breathtaking, stunning thing to witness, but when the firmament opened and began pouring flaming metal on the planet it became a terrifying prospect. Crushed under several tonnes of warped, shattered steel, unable to fight back? Not a warrior's death at all.

"Feth it! We don't know how long we have, we can't waste any more time. Blow the charges now!"

The sergeant of the Alliance troopers Khael was tasked with aiding bellowed over the comlink. Clearly they were rattled by the devastation raining down on them from the superweapon and wanted to get in and out as quickly as possible. It was understandable, but that they were still determined to do their duty in the face of such a calamity was admirable.

One of the smaller buildings below erupted in a conflagration so massive it's tip reached halfway to Khael's perch, showering debris everywhere. It was on the outskirts of the camp; the machinery was too well-guarded and centrally located to sabotage easily, not to mention the vital equipment inside the tunnels that bored into the ice cliff itself would only be reachable once the fighting begun. That was Khael's task.

Blasters spat searing bolts from everywhere at once as the Alliance troopers assaulted the camp. Pandemonium, the first symptom of battle, ruled. Khael stood as he watched the majority of the camp defenders flood out of the buildings and tunnels towards his allies, drew his beskar-forged, hand-and-a-half length beskad in his right hand and a blaster pistol in his left. He breathed, deep, relishing the thrill of imminent combat. He tipped forward, slowly at first, booted feet crunching in the snow as he leant out over the edge, then dropped head first almost vertically. He fired his jetpack almost immediately, rocketing him to the ground below with a roar of his jetpack's thrusters, altered as they were to screech like a predatory beast of the skies. He had sighted his target from his perch, an unlucky Imperial soldier dashing from the cover of one of the buildings to a nearby barricade. Clearly his presence was noted, as blaster bolts began streaking past him, but he was too fast to accurately target. At a distance most would consider impossibly close, Khael cut his main thrusters, twisted feet-down, then engaged them once again to slow his descent with a few seconds of burn in the opposite direction.

Khael grinned madly, having judged the distance and timing perfectly as he slammed into the back of the running soldier with his beskad, driving his victim to the ground with a howl of pain. He snapped his pistol up and squeezed off a quick shot at the knee of the nearest trooper just an arm's length away, who buckled and dropped onto their back as Khael ripped his sword free of both ground and corpse in one strong pull. He stood, then glared down at the mewling soldier he had just shot, writhing on the floor, weapon dropped carelessly despite the presence of a superior adversary and imminent death. Pathetic, Khael thought as he put a bolt through the soldier's helmet.

Hopefully he would find better prey soon, but first he had some det-charges to set.

 

[Koda Fett]

​

THE RECKONING, ILUM SYSTEM

His momentum halted in an instant, the Mandalorian leaned back to his left in order to avoid the explosive armed bodies hurled towards him. Either to detonate in the air Fett once flew in, or crash into the thick walls behind him and explode into bits, or even slink down to the floor. In any case, he remained unscathed in the meantime. His warrior ways had seen to near countless skirmishes with Jedi and Sith alike, Mandalorians too; outnumbered, never outmatched.

The arsenal a competent supplement for the Force.

Arenais bounded towards Fett with the slash of a lightsaber, and Koda turned in time to face him head on. The blade harmlessly collided with the beskar breastplate, and the spare arm made an effort to coil around the Jedi's lightsaber wielding arm as the impact of the clash had sent him back in the air. His other hand allowed the blaster to fall into the sling and flames to spill forth from the wrist-mounted flamethrower at such close range, firing wildly as helmet sensors alerted him to an unseen presence that the Mandalorian veered himself towards for a high-impact collision against Judah Lesan while still intending to be latched onto Caedyn Arenais.

Varm Nul
Caedyn Arenais Caltin Vanagor Judah Lesan

 

[Ariana Du Couteau]

Ariana Du Couteau, Jedi Padawan
Location: Ilum, Crystal Caverns
Objective Two: Hallowed Scar
Action: Assist Daisy by attacking/distracting Kriegan with her own kick
Outfit (Minus the right arm)

​

​

Wherever the others had scattered towards, Ariana knew that idea was quite a painful one to accept. The task of discovering the causes of the disturbances on the planet of Ilum was supposed to have been done together with the entirety of the Padawan cohort. And now we’ve split up to escape the Imperial Order. Ariana counted the seconds as the smoke grenades had been tossed, many of the Padawans already attempted to either fight or escape, but Ariana remained still for several moments longer. ​

​

Her eyes tracked her HUD, attempting to discern the amount of Imperial soldiers, as well as where the other Padawans were heading off towards. One of the Padawans moved directly to confront and attack the Imperial soldiers, her movements were graceful as her hands extended outwards.​

​

She held a blade with deadly intent and soon the Imperial Soldier found themselves on the ground unmoving. Ariana narrowed her eyes, the smoke was beginning to fade a tad, it allowed a much easier time to distinguish the open firefight. ​

​

Another Imperial Soldier had spotted the Padawan that had downed one of their comrades and turned to attack the Padawan. Ariana jumped up from her laid position, her left hand generated a Force shield on either side of her, an incomplete shield but she had a reason to leave her front side open. The young Du Couteau heir sprinted to close the distance between her and the charging Imperial soldier.​

​

She launched out her left foot to kick the Imperial soldier on his side, and with her momentum being carried forward, Ariana simply needed the Soldier to lose balance. Knock him off of his trajectory and give the targeted Padawan a chance to fall back to a more defensible position. ​

​

Ariana had little time to focus and concentrate on using her convection Force powers, the effort would make her combat effectiveness be placed on a short timer. For the moment Ariana prayed she could at least get the Padawan out of the engagement zone and back through the tunnels they had come through. If there was a large Imperial presence on Ilum, this was more than some border dispute, and with that being the case then a full on conflict between two of the largest Galactic Powers would only bring untold amounts of devastation on Ilum. ​

​

|| Ichika Masudo | Kriegan Tavlar ||​

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

3rd post

HUBRIS OF EMPIRES
AN AGE OF STRIFE STORY

SHIELD_ALPHA
Lord-Regent of the Galactic Empire
Grand-Triumvir of the Tarkinist Administration

Belligerents
(IMPAF Vs. GADF)

Saul Vandron Kriegan Tavlar FN-999 Hall Mannarra Bex Tarring Delilah Jones
Aoki-Barran Mira Margo Liaeris Orik Dakari Sid Berik Sars Sarad Sabe Aner
Wolfram Triko

Ishida Ashina Bernard of Arca Mylo Thorne Kaul "Joker" Emos Sara Roche
Shar Sieu Kragr Krayt Cale Gunderson Aleksandr Stirsea Nida Perl

Sword-Duel
(Empire Vs. Enclave)

Opposing Fighter: Shai Maji

MEMORIES ON ILUM: FLASHBACKS ON A FROZEN LAKE - PART 3

Tellan Lake, The Kyber Range Mountains,
5km West of the Hallowed Scar, Ilum (Early-Spring of 877 ABY)

'Thank you, sir.'

Happiness, and despite all the fearsome facets of the Mandalorian's reputation, it suited her.

Like it was the most natural thing in the world to see on Shai's face, and not a hint of it bore a single sign of a menacing sneer at the corners.

Uncanny, but further absolving the young warrior of blame.
​

'They will still watch. They need to watch.', Maji would warn in the moments following Barran's eyes-off order for the snipers at FOB: Reverence, speaking in perspective through an honest and realistic lens. Fully aware of Imperial bodyguard-protocols from her time in the 501st, Shai's instincts kicked into overdrive in her urge to caution,'It will be treason for them to leave their Lord-Regent undefended.', in an attempt to hit the point home, though Erskine's mind was drifting to Fel and his fatal propensity to fight solo in silent contradiction. And in this, the Woad also missed the shift in the Mandalorian's vocal tone, but when he turned to face Shai as she continued,'I don't deserve anything anymore, Erskine. I did bad things when the Maw turned me against my people. I… I gotta make things right.', there was no mistaking the reasons for her cautious looks towards the naked songsteel by then.

The things they make us do in this Galaxy....​

'I'm thrown out of my clan. My people hate me, my achievements and honours are struck from the records… I'm little more than an outsider. My only hope of making right is to do what I can. Even… even if that means cutting off the head of the snake.'

The blame was being laid at the feet of the Galactic Senate before, but in the matter of Maji's former clan, the proverbial finger of judgement could do nothing but point right back at Barran himself, and he knew it. Even if he had somehow denied it openly, Lord Erskine would find himself completely incapable of escaping the truth of the matter, forever fated to live with the reasons why he was making peace with the clan he let down in the first place; the old Woad understood that his actions on Csaus had led to this, and in the eyes of his own Goidelic kinsmen, this was viewed as especially sinful - with many dark implications attached to those who would lead friends astray in such a manner.

It had all led to this, and as the mentor looked to the right hand of his champion it rested with reluctance on the Beskad's hilt, the true weight of his actions rendered him speechless, completely gobsmacked by the intensity that drove her to brave such a endeavour. It wasn't just an obligation in the hopes of redemption, not any more, and much to the old Woad's dismay, he was walking in the makings of rightful retribution.

A penance to be paid for his drunken, pig-headed complacence.

'Erskine… leave. Go home, abdicate and retire. Be with your wife, love your last son. Thomas… he's looking for you. He wants your head. Don't… don't stick with this path… please? Just let go and enjoy your last years in peace. I don't want to do this to you.'

The fingers twisted silently around the broadsword's grip, unseen for the Woad-blue silken lining of his hilt hiding the nuances of finger, thumb and lower wrist-regions, though the change in demeanour elsewhere would reveal all in Barran's mind in contrast. He knew the demand for abdication was of Senatorial origin, and knew the appeals for a happy retirement came from the heart of the Mandalorian standing before him, but wherever the threat of a vengeful firstborn spectre had come from, Lord Erskine could not say. Perceived to be an added spiritual appeal to emotion in poor taste, the Lord-Regent's gaze finally lost it's kindly glow as he replied,'You will not play mind-games like this, not in my pres-', until he was stopped in his tracks by the sudden realisation she was sticking sternly to her statement.

'And how is it that you know this for a fact? The only way we could identify him was by the charred tooth we found at his last known-'

Like everything he ever knew was crashing down around him, burning his entire existence down to the ashen cinders that resembled his soul, the revelation, truth by truth, would click into place with each puzzle-piece. It was no secret the Scar Hounds and Death's Hand alike had accepted Shai's presence as a comrade, and in the understanding of her access to the Mawite rumour mill, there was no doubt that rumblings, honours and interactions would have occurred in the process. But the worst part of it, the worst possible outcome of all the actions pertaining to his firstborn, was that which had transpired in the last years of the Mongrel's life - Asher had given Thomas more in life than Erskine ever could.

Granting fame, status and a future among people who truly valued their leader's successor, all of which had turned out to be exactly what Thomas had been fighting to achieve in his first life, trying his utmost to step out from under his father's gargantuan shadow to become his own man, but in the end dying to the idiocies of the one who was casting shadows.

The cruellest, most insulting ironies of all.

'Devilry.... An' it's all my fething fault, Shai. 'In case you didn't realise, it was my poor judgement that led to his death in the first place. Thomas has every right to want me dead.'

From warmth from before, to the cold and murderous, then widened looks of teary-eyed, abject horror; it seemed that Eternity was done having it's neglectful way with the Barran family, but in the elder's atrocious run of militant heartlessness, the unseen hands of fate had finally begun to toy more angrily with the Goidels' ill-fated ruling clan. No longer an entertaining nuisance to swipe aside when bored, but looking very much like a gnawing irritation to the flow of their best-laid plans, and seemingly aggravating enough to force the resurrection of another Barran to solve the problem with lasting finality. The Old Woad was in a very dangerous situation, and as much as he put it off for the sake of all around him, reminders like this were always at the ready to show Lord Erskine the sharpness of the knife's edge on which he was standing at all time; and in the estimation of the sort of man his firstborn was likely to have become, along with the guesswork on the sort of resources available to the Scar Hounds at the time, the Lord-Regent quickly surmised the power wielded by the monster of his own creation.

'But I have no other option but to fight on as I always do, making it just another potential fate I march gladly towards. I'm sorry, Shai. But.... On the grounds of diplomatic and personal duty, I cannot accept your terms!'

 

[Minerva Fhirdiad]

Onboard the NIV Reckoning​

Objective: Sabotage Imperial superweapon!
Opposition: Empire l Open
Tag: Caltin Vanagor Caedyn Arenais Judah Lesan Domina Prime Jos Krayt Koda Fett Varm Nul

The combat between the Mandalorian raiders and the Imperial defenders raged amdist shouts and weapons firing. Minerva ducked her head letting two blaster bolts fly overhead striking the bulkhead that meant for her. Rolling to the side, the young commando fired back toward her would-be killer. Hit twice in the gut the navy trooper fell sideways dying before he could cry out. She didn't have time to register her newest kill as a grenade dropped inches from her on the left hand side.

Alarmed Minerva jumped, letting her jetpack accelerate the leap forward just as the small sphere ignited.

Moments later the warrior rolled once back to her feet, shooting four more bolts back toward the Imperials trying to hold their ground at the back of the hall. Most of the shots missed with one cutting clean through a navy trooper's right knee. She dropped to her knees screaming before one of her comrades dragged her away to safety as two more kept firing their weapons to cover their escape. A bolt grazed the side of her helmet, forcing Minerva to seek shelter in an open room. Head ringing she muttered in both admiration and annoyance.

"They shoot better than their ancient predecessors."

Looking back to her vod's position who were laying down suppressing with heavy weapons. She noted however, that some of the bodies strewn around the floor were wearing Mandalorian armor. At the very sight Minerva renewed determination. Their deaths will not be in vain, she silently declared. Drawing a flashbang in one hand she took a deep breath, releasing it just as the Imperials’ firepower lessened.

Without further hesitation she came out of the side tossing the activated device before falling back to cover. A brief flash erupted in front of the enemy squad, temporarily blinding most. With many of them stunned a Mandalorian fired his grenade launcher. The resulting exploding sharpal tore their midst, causing many to shriek in agony.

Taking advantage of it the invaders including Minerva made a charge, firing upon the survivors within aim. Most were cut down within seconds while three managed to flee through the left corridor. Minerva was among those in front as they ran past the newly rendered corpses heading for the corridor on the right flank. Running alongside her was the unit leader who was listening in to the calls from the other teams that made it but were scattered on parts of the ship. Apparently they were facing similar resistance as well.

That was a tough fight and we just only started. We haven't encountered any stormtroopers yet. Though I imagine we'll see them soon enough.

Within the next two minutes they stormed into a barracks suddenly greeted by a torrent of blaster shots. Minerva dodged a few in her direction, taking cover behind a bunk. Through her t-visor she saw a dozen hostiles wearing the recognizable white armor and skull helmets from the opposite side. The shootout between them intensified, neither side backing down for the moment.

 

[Aoki-Barran Mira]

The admittance from a Jedi that there indeed was corruption in the Senate was... surprising. Were the Jedi not so insistent that they were the good guys? But then again, that was not an admittance of the Jedi's wrongs. And with her parents having been in the Silver Jedi's ranks... she knew there had been sins. Alas, Mira had more to think about as from the sky, the superweapon fired. Mira winced beneath her visor; tilting her head away from the light as destruction rained down. Debris flew down from the heavens, to the distance landscape. Once again, Mira silently cursed the Empire's actions today.

She darted towards the closest wounded soldier and fell to her knees. She thrust her palms over the lightsaber slice in his armor and started Healing him with the Force. She gritted her teeth beneath her helmet as the Jedi rambled on and on. She closed her eyes briefly, telepathically speaking to the one person on the planet who likely understood her dilemma. Lord Barran, I cannot stand this. My wariness of Jedi does not excuse our own actions. But I have to be strong in the face of this enemy.

She opened her eyes and spoke, retaliating in a cool and certain voice, "At least the Empire fought at all. As far as I can recall, it was the Empire saving not only themselves, but the Galactic Alliance and Chiss from the Maw's wrath."

She looked over to see the Jedi at one of the imperial speeders, holding up a detonator. She stood up immediately, instantly worried about what would happen if that went off. More suffering for these troops? She glared through her HUD as he spoke, feeling rage boil over for everything slamming into her head. She would not allow for that detonator go off, for the potential explosions to further endanger the unconscious troops at her feet.

"I already have decided enough is enough. But I also have decided the same for the Galactic Alliance Defense Force. The Galactic Republics failed, The Silver Jedi failed, and the Galactic Alliance all have failed. The Jedi and Sith fight an endless war. The Empire and its order is the cure to this everlasting plague."

She snapped into action. Using a combination of Force Speed and the repulsers in her boots, she struck like lightning. In one fell swoop, she drew her father's songsteel katana. Utaken's blade sparked with blue electricity as a poised, swift sweep was aimed for the detonator in his hands. Even if she somehow did not land the strike, the electricity bathing the blade should have been enough to short out the detonator.

Even if she was divided in the fight, she fought.

Aaran Tafo Michael Barran
​

 

[Korvan Toldreyn]

​

Valery Noble Dagon Kaze | Rakaan Horne Sahar​

The tank fell apart, ripped to its constituent parts as Kaze focused intently upon the force around it. It was impressive to say the least, and a fairly prescient reminder of exactly why the Jedi Investigator sat upon the council. The Jedi Master heard Dagon speak, heard him usher Korvan and Valery along - willed them to bring Rakaan back. It struck him, harder than the tank might have struck Dagon if not for his own quick actions. But Kaze did not linger enough for any argument or response, leaping into the fray against the woman who had planned to flatten him.

Bring him back.

The words echoed in his mind, and as Korvan's gaze lingered upon the form of Dagon, he could not help but feel a sense of Deja Vu. Walking away from an ally, leaving someone to fend for themself had caused all this pain in the first place. He had trusted Rakaan's own devices, in his abilities to protect himself, and in that he had failed him. Should he repeat it here and now?

Dagon was not Rakaan, of that he was certain. But still - the thought lingered.

Sense and rationality returned quickly, and the Jedi Master's cerulean gaze turned to settle upon Valery once more. He considered the words that they had shared, the encouragement she had given him to come here, to face Rakaan. To bring him back. They had shared all that needed to be said then, there was no more that could be said between them. Now was the time for decisions, not for discussion.

"Come, I can feel him."

His words were plain, and Korvan wasted little time as he set off in the direction of that familiar presence. There were still those who blocked their way, but the Imperials who sought to block their path would undoubtedly find themselves ill-matched against the pair of Jedi. Before long, they reached the top of a nearby ice berm, and Korvan's gaze settled upon a form - near unrecognizable in all that he wore, save for that damnable presence.

"Rakaan."​

 

[Rakaan Horne]

HALLOWED SCAR, ILLUM:-
Sahar | Korvan Toldreyn Valery Noble Dagon Kaze

In dark attire that contrasted so strongly against the white armoured soldiers and what remained of the snow beneath him, Rakaan blazed across the battlefield; Force-imbued movements had seen to his speed and athleticism, with impossible feats of acrobatics and strength as the cobalt bladed lightsaber whipped around wildly in offence and defense - blaster bolts batted aside with ease and soldiers left wounded in the wake of his effortless destruction, no matter all the pain worn on his features with each act, even with squadrons of stormtroopers rallying behind him.

He never wanted to hurt anyone.

Regret. For the lives ruined, for the blood spilled. Hate, for no one other than himself. It fuelled that rage that burned so brightly in his chest, all that brought a warmth to his heart. Inside, Rakaan pleaded for the release of death as the rest of him acted without thought, without concern for what he truly wished for. I have done such terrible things, his saber slashed into the thigh of a soldier left flailing in pain on the snow with a cauterised wound, there is no saving me now.

Some fledgling amount of clarity pierced the veil of darkness that overwhelmed him and his senses, and for all of a second Rakaan had come to a stop. To a standstill, with bolts on the path of near-misses and faced even more instictive deflections. Twisted, the word echoed in his mind, poisoned and mutilated; the effects of the darkside vocalised internally, with all the acknowledgement of the Jedi he once was. Corrupted. Lied to. Manipulated, destroyed. His sudden ability to pinpoint the presences from earlier heightened, and with them had the blue to his eyes become replaced with a foul amber.

On the ice, far above himself, Korvan stood with Valery. His first instict had seen both hands reached out into the air, into the mystical Force and latch onto all the snow and ice the two stood on and seize it. His hands trembled from the exertion, and Rakaan's features strained as the sound of crackling ice and shifting snow filled the air, thunderous as he tore the very ground in which they stood into pieces and raked both hands downwards, sending what was there across the base of the strip-mined floor in pieces.

But even then, his head bowed with shame and a flash of blue had so very briefly entered his irises.

Whatever words the Imperial wished to muster turned to little more than a shameful huff.

 

[IVI]

THE DIRECTOR IN THE ERA OF RECLAMATION
CORUSCANT | SENATE DISTRIC | SENATE INTELLIGENCE BRIEFING ROOM

There were so many things to hate in this galaxy.

The Brotherhood of The Maw was at the top of the list, after Csilla. They always would be. The only remarkable thing about The Brotherhood and their despot cornucopia of degenerates was their penchant to create opportunities. Moments where sentients around the galaxy went into a sort of shock. The whole vast, varied, tribe of species that were able to register thought. For a moment, it was as if they were all primal, silenced by a predator far larger than they. All the rules they lived by had been pulled into question at Csilla. Was democracy weak? The Alliance will endure, wont it? How had they let this happen? Was Imperialism so bad?

Csilla’s shattering had been an opportunity. A moment that brough alliances, new empathy, a new and broader sense of being together in a larger, sentient response to pure evil. Or, it could be the poison that ran through minds for decades to come and welcomed ancient wars onto new a bloody battlefields.

And that’s where they were. Back on bloody battlefields.

Imperials were second on the list of things to hate.

"Farking Imps."

“Imperial bastards…”

“Indeed.”

M’s contempt was thinly veiled when she spoke, feigning crispness into each syllable that constructed the infallible version of herself the Alliance relied on.

“The Imperial raid on Ilum seems to be twofold.” M recited, unperturbed by the impatience of youth. “Firstly, for resources. Ilum’s resources of kyber crystals seem to be their primary objective. Live reports share the appearance of an incredibly powerful weapon that has fired into the fleet, indiscriminate of allegiance. Both Imperial and Alliance ships were damaged with the first shot. Debris trajectory seem to be travelling hot to the surface of Ilum. The fleet’s response is in progress.

The second is a show of strength. We haven’t seen an Imperial fleet this size since the conclusion of the Stygian Campaign alongside the Imperials in the Third Imperial Civil War. They’re upset The Alliance’s influence won on New Aldera from a political perspective, but The Empire’s ego is bruised.” She gestured to the display that glowed betwixt them all, a rough schematic of glowing blue silhouettes of their fleet relative to the ancient Jedi planet below. “We bruised them in the heel, slowed their steps to progress. They’re trying to break skin now.”

M’s unverified hypothesis was that they would go tit-for-tat, not tet-a-tet. The Maw was still too great a threat for The Empire to expend resources against The Alliance.

Regardless, it was always helpful to seek out additional information from the mouths of others.

“The Empire’s triumvirate is a different beast than Tavlar or Fel. Have they attempted to re-establish contact with you at all, Chancellor?”

M’s frown deepened and she looked through the blue to the fresh representative of The Alliance. The Golden Chancellor. The Chancellor who had a relationship with an Imperial.

---

ALLIES | GA | Auteme | Forlan Norsama | Dracken Pryce | Ronval Rubat | Kel Se'Taav

 

[Corath Renfro]

Objective 2- Eliminate GADF, and Jedi Force, prevent interference with mining ops

Allies: @IMAF

Enemies: @GADF

Location: Western Kyber Mountains,
The Hallowed Scar, Ilum (Spring of 877 ABY)

​

Coarath had been stalking in the mountains for days looking for a target to take out and a large force that he vector ground troops to, he was patient but the lack of activity also the bitter cold of Ilum was beginning to get to him as continued to scan the valley below for signs of enemy movement. As heard another pass by the Tie Fighters, He hear an explosion to the south of his present location he hurried to the area, seeing the black smoke streaming up against, the contrast o grey white mountain, he set up his /sniper riffle, careful deploying bipod, activating his holographic ghuile suit and monitor droid, and lay prone straining through the scope looking for a target, as the monitor droid, and his 'Electric Eye' Weapon Optics System scope feeding data in the Hud of his element, relating to wind speed and direction, temperature, humidity, angle decent/ ascent, planetary rotation direction and speed, and various factors he would need to account and adjust for before making a shot., he scanned the valley below around where the smoke was coming looking a target to engage.
.​

 

[Varm Nul]

ONAGER II-CLASS STAR DESTROYER
Equipment (in Possessions) | Post #3

There was something to be said about a gunslinger with accurate, rapid-fire blaster pistols.

Varm Nul had a tight-lipped smirk on his face as he continued to rake his deadly blaster bolts across the spec ops forces, even as he weaved between friendly forces - the Stormtroopers - to avoid return fire, as needed. He felt opportunity shouldn't be ignored, so the Duros had no issue with using the armored forms for shielding... that was until something bounded out of the shuttle, as the same vessel exploded.

It was an armored humanoid, too, as tendrils were used to allow the unidentified humanoid access to a higher vantage on the overhead walkways.

"Seen a lot," Varm Nul muttered, mostly to himself, as he blinked his large red eyes. "Ain't seen that before."

And that's when the armored tendril beast (for lack of a better term) began to snatch Stormtroopers, before attaching devices to them, and tossing them in various directions. One or two flailed toward Varm Nul, the beeping indicative of explosives on the falling troopers, to which the Duros grimaced and activated his jet boots - to which he blasted sideways and put a good amount of distance, in very little time, between where he had been and where those explosives detonated!

"That the game we're playin'? All right, then."

Varm Nul twirled one of his blasters back into a holster, then grabbed a pair of small grenades from the pouch on his belt. He began to fire rapidly toward the armored tendril beast, to try and corral it into a limited area, before he tossed the AP Grenades right at the thing - and as both round explosives sailed through the air, Varm Nul took aim and shot one of them with pinpoint precision--

* BOOM! *

--and watched as the area near the armored tendril creature was surrounded by a highly concentrated blast. And then followed almost right after with a second, equally deadly and focused blast. Confident that the attack would likely create some damage even to armor - or at least a distraction for several moments - the Duros reached into his long-coat and pulled out another second blaster, though this one was different.

"Fire at the tendrils!" Varm Nul shouted to the Stormtroopers nearby that section of hangar. "Concentrate fire, use explosives if you have 'em."

To which, the dozen or so Stormtroopers immediately near the armored tendril beast began to work together, firing blaster rifles, as several began to throw their explosives.

"What--"

And it was around that time Varm Nul saw a flaming TIE fighter tumbling through the air overhead, presumably tossed by the hulking humanoid of a Jedi across the way, who had some kind of electrical manifestation. That, too, was new for the bounty hunter. But, far be it for Varm Nul to remain stupefied, to which he decided that the Stormtroopers could keep the armored tendril beast busy for the time being.

It also seemed Fett had himself a fight on his hands, as above the Mandalorian engaged two Jedi.

"Can't let him have all the fun..."

With a burst of jet boots, Varm Nul skimmed across the hangar bay at rapid speed, as he approached the big Jedi - the one with electricity - and aimed both blaster pistols. With a smirk, the Duros opened fire; but, instead of simply blaster bolts, the second blaster (a KD-30 type) began to fire solid projectiles.

Projectiles filled with acid.

Projectiles that exploded and splashed the deadly liquid on impact.

Though, alongside those acid rounds, the single LL-30 blaster pistol continued to spit deadly red bolts rapidly as well...

"Come on, big boy," Varm Nul called, as he continued to weave between Stormtroopers closer to the huge Jedi. "Let's see how your lightsaber handles this."

Allies: Koda Fett | Stormtroopers
Enemies: Caedyn Arenais | Caltin Vanagor | Judah Lesan | Domina Prime
Nearby: Minerva Fhirdiad | Jos Krayt
Engaging: Domina Prime | Caltin Vanagor​

 

[Osarla Ridor]

GENERAL RIDOR
222ND NOVA CORPS | 512TH LEGION | 312 ATTACK BATALLION
ILUM | DRILL SITE | NORTH POINT MINING AREA

​

Seasoned from years of fighting sith, fighting alongside imperials and then against imperials, Osarla’s perceptive powers were limited but at least able to detect the anomaly of her opponent.

Move The Force whispered. And its giant conduit responded. Her outstretched hand moved to grip her sabre’s hilt in a double-handed defense.

Loud and alive, the blue of her blade snapped and barked against the violet one that powerfully glanced against it.

So powerful that immovable Osarla found herself moved. Stumbled, even.

Beneath her, Ilum groaned.

It was then that she realized the buzz in her foot hadn’t faded. The General hadn’t fully noticed the strange effect until she shoved her foot to brace her defensive stance. The ground felt a little more distant. As if the distinctive crunch of snow were happening feet away from her, instead of right under her boot. Her knee buckled, buoying into a temporary crouch beneath the incredible force of the downward attack and her lack of foundation.

"What're you doing here?"

With a grunt, she shifted her weight to the more reliable foot and offset the weakness in her foot to transfer to her hands, countering the slash with a ripple of Force Energy that pushed from her core outward and against the attacker.

"Not a Sith and your armour don’t match the Imperial uniform." Simultaneously, she used her arm strength to grunt up an arc with their locked blades. If that succeeded, she’d jab forward.

"An opportunist?" Snowflakes stung and chilled the teeth she exposed with her sneer. "That's dirty."

---

ALLIES | GA | NJO | | INDIRECT BUT SORT OF PROXIMITY AROUND THE CAVERNS AND DIG SITE| Zhea Nox | Varen Ardos | Sion Lorray | Gabriel Pryce | Varen Ardos
FOES | THE EMPIRE | Enyo Typhos

 

[Sōla Taan]

Grendel Krayt ​

The massive mando stomped the ground and it quaked and cracked in response. The ground rumbled ominously and the chasm yawned a few inches wider. Footing compromised, her blow resulted in little more than a flesh wound. It was about what she had expected- the Mando was just too big to cut deeply into his flesh without applying considerable force.

Grendel turned to face her with a roar, axes bared and arcing through the air with ferocious strength and power, but she darted between his legs with a burst of jet enhanced speed, quick as a cat and twice as vicious. She swiped at the seam of his inner thigh as she passed beneath him, then swiped again at the back of his already burned leg.

His weapons were massive to match his imposing frame- as long as she stayed within his guard, she believed he wouldn’t be able to leverage them properly, or even truly bring his might to bare, unless he attempted to grapple her. Or fall on top of her. That would suck. It was a deadly dance and a risky play, but it was the best chance she had to bring him down.

She wasn’t strong enough to strike him down in one cut, but with a thousand? She just might manage it.

Sheer stubborn determination sharpened her already razor focus to a monomolecular edge.

​

 

[Cordé Sabo]

STRIKE TEAM YSALAMIRI || DULCET
ILUM | THE JEDI TEMPLE | HALLWAYS

Another feud between Force users.

Coruscant, the Jedi Temple. Tython, the homeworld of ancient Jedi hokiness. Ilum, a world of glowy rocks that the Jedi held so sacrosanctly.

Seemed both The Brotherhood of The Maw and The Empire had their scopes set on The Alliance because of their relationship with The Jedi.

Any of Cordé’s expression that would have betrayed her unimpressedness was concealed beneath the cloth that wrapped around the lower part of her face. And a fur-lined hat was pulled down low over her forehead. Effectively, only her eyes and the bridge of her nose were showing. And that was enough. Her eyelashes were freezing.

The further through the caverns the team navigated, the more the blue shimmery of the icy walls turned black. What had been light and glistening ice turned to dark and shiny stone, and Cordé took a precious second to run her gloved hands over the volcanic walls. Ahead of her, Tiric flashed a small blue model to their weapons expert Just as the original width of the cavern's welcome tightened.

One side of the cavern’s wall yearned desperately toward the other, and Cordé hung back to cover the rear. Anticipating the difficulty for some of the bulkier members of their team to squeeze through. She didn’t watch the effort. Instead, she turned her back to face back down the cavern — in case this reported Imperial Knight in their proximity decided to surprise them from behind.

The narrow corridor was quickly crossed, and they were on the other side. Back into a wider space with more stretching ice and snow. It seemed endless here with no reprieve. And she hadn’t seen anything remarkable about any of the rocks or so-called crystals yet.

She didn’t look over her shoulder until the sharp sound of an alarm went off. Obediently, she crouched on Tiric’s command and closed the distance between herself and the rest of the group and disabled any unnatural light from her weapons.

In silence, Cordé stretched to look over Double-G’s shoulder, looking in the direction the sound of crunching snow and ice was coming from. The heat registration of her scope illuminated a quartet of rainbow blobs approaching their position. She held up four fingers, indicating the number of crewmen that seemed to be approaching their position.

So far, silence was on their side.

Beneath their feet, Cordé could swear she felt like the planet seemed to groan. She curled her fingers back into her palm and hesitated, looking up at the shiny frozen ceiling of the cave they were in and suddenly feeling a sense of claustrophobia.

Outside the caves, unbeknownst to Task Force Y, The Empire’s superweapon fired into the stars above. Its power was impossible to control and cored through the composition of both Alliance and Imperial fleets alike. Massive ships of metal, durasteel and glasteel, home and vessel to hundreds of bodies, ruptured against the black of the skies. Plumes of fire and smoke expanded out in brilliant fires but looked like nothing more than tiny puffs of brightness from Ilum’s surface.

The split of ships happened at different speeds. Some groaned through the fireballs, slowly creaking apart. Others readily burst into several fragments. Some of those fragments picked up momentum from the explosion, fractals, that spiralled and spun and got hotter and hotter and hotter and hotter and faster and faster and faster as they streaked through Ilum’s atmosphere to the surface.

Cordé’s comm unit on her wrist flashed red, silently, with text before the ceilings above them started to groan and shimmer.

// ATTN ALL INTELLIGENCE UNITS \\ !!WARNING!! SUPERWEAPON FIRED IN THE ATMOSPHERE. BE AWARE OF ENVIRONMENTAL CHANGES.

“Not good.” She murmured an instant before the cavern started to quiver. Above them, on the cliffside, what had been an escape pod, slammed into the outside of the cavern.

Whatever the shifts in the environment were, was enough for the approaching troops to shout out and flash their headlamps and lights in Task Force Y’s direction.

And open fire.

---

ALLIES | GA | NJO | TFY | IMMEDIATE Dominik Borra | Tiric Sar'andor | PENDING Sion Lorray
FOES | THE EMPIRE | Marcad