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

[Cordé Sabo]

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

The cave’s shadows were soon overwhelmed by the rounds discharged by her comrades. One sure shot after the other, the Imperials dropped. One-two-three-four down. A few others showed up, presumably as reinforcements from the discord caused, that Driver took care of.

Cordé always let the others shoot first. Her job was to clean up if anything went wrong or cover the rear. In this case, the likelihood of something going wrong was mitigated by Task Force Y’s advantage of surprise.

When the room stilled and no further heat signatures registered in her scopes, she snuck past the three leading the charge and, with her weapon held up just in case, she crouched next to the downed bodies, checking for their pulse.

<They’re dropped. No Imperial Knight insignias, either.> She reported back, her voice dropping to a level of frustration: <None of these were our target.>

Just then, her wrist glowed with another indicator from Coruscant. The others would be receiving the same updates.

<We’ve got a report update.> Cordé announced through their comms, though her voice was somewhat muffled by the insulating fabric over her mouth. <Imperial Knight target’s spotted routing to cover the exit. Suspected to be cutting off Jedi Padawans from escaping the safety of the caverns.>

The ground beneath them quivered and shook, and the tremors grew so violent that Cordé dropped to a knee to lower her centre of gravity and pressed her hand to the ground. Loud growls travelled through the ice-black walls, and it sounded like the cavern itself was starting to shift.

Someone somewhere, distantly in the caves, laughed. It sounded like a threat.

<I like what you guys said about getting out of here.> She murmured through the shakes that felt like they were verging on rattling her bones. The trauma of having a piece of the environment cause breakage, or crush a limb, would be horrible to tend to. Even with all the stimpacks she had on her person, that kind of pain could be worse than a blaster wound.

Suddenly, there was a deafening boom. Like the atmosphere itself decided to erupt into tiny fractals of seismic noise. The caverns groaned under the weight of impact. A deep, raw grinding noise ran the length of the icy floors.

Wide-eyed, Cordé felt her bravery whoosh through her and leave empty shock and fear in its wake.


<Let’s g—>

The floor rose up and punched Cordé in the legs.

By instinct, she tried to roll, but the attack was too wide. There was no way to get around it. Fissures like wide spiderwebs ran down the ceiling length, seeking and searching and erratically spreading through the glistening glass to the greatest point of weight — the pile of dead bodies and the medic kneeling amidst them — where it cracked, thunderclap loud.

Cordé didn’t fall silently —she heard herself scream, but it was like she was hearing a recording of herself. The sounds of her own breath and the blood in her ears were too loud. And while gravity claimed her scrambled to find the grappling hook release on her vambrace. She managed to do so after falling at least five feet.

At fifteen feet below the floor, she’d been on, the whipcord whirred out, vaguely in the direction of the edge of the fresh hole she’d fallen through, and managed to find purchase in the ice.

Her body snapped as the line went taut. Fire flushed through her bloodstream, white-hot pain. Everything around her shoulder was radiating and excruciating — her bone slipped from its cup-shaped socket.

Through clipped, short bursts of breath, she struggled to draw her other arm up and grip the rope to counterbalance some of the shock. Before she could grip it, however, to her dismay, the grappling hook’s grip gave way. Small bits of ice rained down alongside the freed hook, and Cordé was once again in freefall for another ten feet.

Crack! Her fall only stopped when her body cracked against the icy floor below. Snow and some of the corpses from Task Force Y helped break her fall, but the pain did not subside, and kaleidoscopic blackness began to fill the peripheries of her vision like a vignette. Her eyes watered and the icy air chilled her eyelashes and the skin around her wet eyes. Attacking them with bites of frost.

She groaned and tried to move her arm to activate her commlink. The gesture brought a wave of dizziness with it, and she had to stay her motion to prevent the overwhelming sensation of pounding hurt at the back of her head and the pulse of discomfort from her shoulder. Surely, it was dislocated. Her body seemed very large like it had expanded to fill the universe, or the universe had shrunk down until it fit in her skin. Her hands seemed a very long way away. Even something as simple as physical touch was hard to feel; there was nothing but pain. Throbbing, all-consuming pain.

“Mother fether…”

---

ALLIES | GA | NJO | TFY | UP ABOVE AND NO LONGER IN PROXIMITY Dominik Borra | Tiric Sar'andor | Driver
DROP-IN VISIT | Sion Lorray
FOES | THE EMPIRE | Marcad

 

[Sid Berik]

Allies: NIO l FN-999
Enemies: Galactic Alliance l Sara Roche
Objective: Repel Enemy Assault from 908th Trench

Woe to you oh Earth and Sea...

Spoiler: MAP

​

Everything around Sid was blackened. The once-pristine mountains of Ilum were rocked by the visage of war. Nothing beautiful remained in his eyes, only the immediate and visceral horrors and rigors of combat. Bodies lay from both sides, brutal winds of a careless and indifferent planet. The sense of dread as the dead piled on and the fight continued. Both sides lost, and neither truly gained any real ground to speak of fondly.

War was inevitable and war was eternal.

Sid only had to survive it in his short life.

But so did his compatriots. Resolves had to be tested. The Alliance was testing their mettle, their strength, their resolve. And with the Empire, their resolve had to be absolute. Unflinching. Unyielding. It required strength. It required courage. It required sacrifice.

In the ensuing firefight, the Sergeant earlier was killed. His body lay at Sid's feet in a brief lull in the brutal trench warfare. Including his shotgun. Sid reached down, grabbing the icy weapon, shucking the muck from it, before undoing the shells that the Sergeant had on the webbings on his person. Slinging them across his body, he reloaded the weapon, more shells in the tube. He checked it with a firm pump, ejecting the spent shell.

He turned his head, breathing raggedly. He was scared.

But he had to overcome.

His hand grasped the top of the trench. And from the smoke, from the explosions, Sid was the first one over the top. The Alliance had broken into their ranks, taken over their trenches. And leaping into the enemy position, one shotgun blast ripping an Alliance marine in two, and a buttstroke to incapacitate the next while he re-racked the shotgun....

Sid would show the enemy his resolve. The Empire's Resolve.

The Emperor's Will be done.

First Squad was now under direct assault, several stormtroopers, including Sid, entering the trenches from the top they fought so hard to get. Every piece of ground that the Alliance would want to take would be measured not with meters and distance, but with blood. The success of Sid's bold counter-attack would be measured in blood, in fact.

His or the enemy's.


​

 

[Sōla Taan]

The giant sat her down gingerly, his voice deep and loud and slow. Grendel Krayt talked as slowly as he moved. "What do you mean we're both going to die right now?"

If the situation were less dire, Sola might have rolled her eyes. She decided to cut him a break- it wasn't as if he could see the future. That was her gift- her burden.

Her boots roared, lifting her up into the air. She urged her boots to lift her higher still. Balancing the awkwardly placed thrust was easy with the Force. "I mean a capital ship is currently plummeting towards us," she replied, voice sharp. “We need to leave. Now."

It wasn't quite headed towards them, but it was large enough that specifics didn't really matter. If they remained underground, the likelihood of their survival was slim to none. The mountain would crumble, the caves would collapse, and they'd be buried and crushed beneath countless tons of snow and rock.

She could see it, just as surely as she could see the massive Mando standing in front of her.

But just as she had seen their doom, so to had she glimpsed their salvation. The raised shelf of ice led to a tunnel that curved its way up to the surface. If they could escape the crash zone, they just might survive. But their window was narrow, and closing every second.

"C'mon then! Chop chop, Mando, it's time to jet!"

She soared up and into the tunnel, pushing herself faster and faster, propelling herself with rocket power and the Force both.

​

 

[Dagon Kaze]

Valery Noble Korvan Toldreyn
Sahar Rakaan Horne
​

Resentment fueled her onslaught as she repelled Dagon's assault and shifted the momentum to her side. Once her eyes filled with passion at his sight, now they burned with bloodlust. A hateful, punishing gaze locked into his as Sahar drove her blades against him. Their swings faster with each passing moment, leaving trails of scorch marks and cauterized blood where Dagon's defense came late.

The Jedi flipped back from the Imperial's sweeping kick only to be showered with bullets of debris hurled at blazing speed with telekinesis. He raised his arms in a telekinetic barrier only crucial moments later.

"I'm gonna take your f*cking head and send you screaming to your dead daddy, if it's the last thing i'll do Dagon."

Crimson streamed down his face, bloodied by Sahar's debris barrage. Gashes carved unto his lips and eyebrows and cheeks. He spat sanguine to the side and wiped the blood flowing from the laceration on his lip. His chest heaved from the exerted strength to keep up with his former lover. Her powers had grown substantially since they had last met and she was keen to prove it. He looked at her, features barely softening in regret -- the thinnest line was the one between love and hate.

Dagon opened his mouth to say something when the Force howled in warning. A massive shockwave of a fallen Alliance cruiser thundered across the Hallowed Scar sending soldiers on the ground and collapsing rocks and structural foundations. The ground beneath his feet rattled wildly and almost threw the Jedi to the ground. An ancient Force entity had been awakaned but its presence escaped his mind as a boulder tumbled down towards Sahar from above.

"Look out!!" he extinguished his blade and launched himself like a missile at her. Darted straight past her saber guard to spear her, shoving her away from the boulder's impact. Both landed on the cold, hard floor of Ilum. Face to face. As close as they had once been.​

 

[Ariana Du Couteau]

Ariana Du Couteau, Jedi Padawan
Location: Ilum, Crystal Caverns
Objective Two: Hallowed Scar
Action: Help Daisy with another attack on Kriegan
Outfit (Minus the right arm)

The physical connection between her foot and the Imperial’s armor made a satisfying thud sound, but Ariana had precious little time to follow it up with another attack . Unfortunately even if she had the precious little time her footing was off as the ground threatened to send her tumbling back down to the dirt. These quakes from before weren’t as violent or aggressive as this new one was, but Ariana braced herself all the same and kept herself steady and upright. She can figure out a way to stop of the cause of these quakes later, for the moment survival was paramount.

Instead her focus was for any crack on the ground and the ceiling for falling debris. Carefully she readied her left hand to help generate a Force shield above herself if needed, the expenditure of using her abilities threatened to leave her tired and weak should she push herself too far. She turned her attention to the voice of the Padawan that she had helped by distracting the Imperial Soldier. A flush of red ran through her cheeks as she realized that the other knew her name but Ariana did not know hers. Thankful for her helmet’s visor covering the entirety of her face she offered the Padawan a nod in agreement to escape.

Rather uncouth of Ariana to not know at least the Padawans that had entered into the Ilum cavern, but before she could remedy her rudeness the Imperial Soldier made his presence known once again. First the exit that Ariana had seen earlier was taken out by a collapsing pile of rocks and debris, then next the Imperial Soldier began to stalk on after them with a pistol raised.

The blast emitted wasn’t a normal blaster bolt but instead something else entirely, Ariana hadn’t spent much time around weaponry like blasters. But recently it’s been like I’ve been thrusted into a crash course since the Tetan liberation. Ariana moved to dodge and get out of the way, attempting to stay near the Padawan she had helped from before, offering a plan of attack.

“Let me attack the Imperial and give you an opening.” Ariana spoke, attempting it to be slightly quieter than a shout. She honestly wanted to find a different exit path than face off against the Imperial. But as it stood, Well where the Imperial stood; the young Du Couteau heir had limited choices to consider. Just like the Imperial shouted, they had nowhere else to go but straight ahead of them for the time being.

Ariana took a quick breath in and focused her attention, her muscles began to tense and like a loaded spring she jettisoned out of her cover and charged directly at the Imperial Soldier. Ariana held her left hand forward to keep up a Force shield, she expected to at least be able to absorb perhaps three of those sonic blasts. Realistically perhaps one or two. But she closed in quickly and the gap became shorter as the Imperial was also heading towards them.

This time, as she got closer, Ariana shot her right foot sideways to catch the Imperial’s left thigh and side area. If there was a chance for her to make it out alive, refocusing the fight into a melee and providing the other Padawan a chance to attack was her only option.
​

|| Ichika Masudo | Enigma Actual ||​

 

[Castor E-196]

Master Sergeant Castor E-196
Imperial Navy Special Forces Command; Attached to SCAR​

Objective: n e u t r a l i z e
Allies: Hal Vaiken Kelinna Tryn Margo Liaeris Enigma Actual
Enemies: Julius Sedaire Calix of Thyrsus

Instead of the young one's head splattering, Julius took the bolt to the chest. Thankfully the highly modified armor from the Aing-Tii absorbed most of the blow, glancing as it was.

Castor's face twitched in annoyance; of course it could never be this easy with Jedi. He began to move to another vantage point; too few left, and the routes too unstable after the explosion-

But that lasted only a second before instinct kicked in and he rose, bryar pistol in one hand and silver-green blade in the other, firing the pistol with loud barks of energy in the vague direction that the danger and sniper fire had come from. A trained eye would see he favored his left side, and stood stiffer there, but was still quite in the fight.

Blaster fire smashed into the rocks around him, and enough damage to the already weakened rock caused the entire side of the cave to begin crumbling. Castor cursed as he was forced out of cover, falling through open air. He had chosen to bring along the Backpack modules to provide some level of vertical movement in the caves (when a less experienced soldier would think the battelspace too cramped to make use of it), and he managed to activate it, slowing his descent and propelling him away from the collapsing wall and its shower of rocks. Too late, he could feel one of the rocks smash into a critical area of the jetpack; not enough to destroy it, as the armour had shields and automated repair nodes, but the HUD told him he'd have only a few seconds of flight time in between each activation if he did not want to overload some other critical repair system.

A blaster was an... inelegant choice for a Thyrsian to wield. Echani preferred something more personal, so he held onto the lightsaber for the time being. With the shield activated, Calix could try to draw the enemy fire toward himself, while Master Sedaire continued to zero in on their opponent.

As Castor rocketed over the pair, the older Jedi continued to fire, and Castor returned fire, drawing his DSP-61x Hybrid Pistol on Sonic mode and firing; he vaguely recognised the shield type used by the Padawan, and sonic energy might penetrate the Padawan's shields better, or at least force its power systems to drain further to shield against it.

He continued firing sonic blasts as he arced downward, landing just as he turned off his jetpack, on a lip of stone just above head height on the far side of the cave. He had to maintain distance, and though the jetpack could not be pushed too hard at the moment, he intended to keep up his ranged advantage. He switched back to his DC-03, removing the sniper module and firing high-powered bolts at the pair, bolts that exploded if hit by lightsabers.

 

[Orik Dakari]

Operation Black Ice
908th Legion, 303rd Forward Security Battalion, 1st Company, 1st Platoon, Section 1
Location: THE HALLOWED SCAR, ILUM
Objective: REPEL AMBUSH
Equipment: Snow Armor
Tags: Hall Mannarra Michael Barran​

Roller 8-2 arrived amidst the Imperial artillery barrage; there was little time to celebrate. The stormtroopers and MPs piled in, dragging as many repeaters or heavy arms as they could and the bodies of their fallen. Any intel would help. Orik detonated the heavy guns himself, and amidst the barrage, he could barely hear the explosives go off. The remaining guns were spiked with proximity charges: if any Alliance soldiers came close, they would be in for a nasty surprise. He disliked bending the laws of war, even here, so he set them to go off anyway after a while; didn't want to leave it to some unsuspecting archeologist fifty years from now.

The sky seemed to crack open then, and Orik watched out of the viewports in shock at the... whatever the hell happened. A shower of debris fell across the entire region, though nothing was reaching this battlefield yet.

The group of vehicles stopped near Charlie Three-Two. They were still here to get Hall Mannarra and his tanks out of here, after all.

<"Strider-8-Oh to Basel-Actual, since we're here, we'll keep tight perimeter patrol until repairs are effected."> The Stormtrooper Lieutenant radioed.

<"Roger. Roller will go back with the wounded and most of the rest before returning; the OP needs defence."> Orik and a dozen others got out of the tank before it sped off. Few enough MPs and Stormtroopers that they could ride on the tanks once they were repaired. Orik directed the tech-trained to assist the tankers in repairs.

"Good to see you in person; Bravo-8 on station. I'm Sergeant Orik Dakari; we have some tech-trained personnel to get your tanks up to speed.I suggest we move off quick before those things hit us in the open," Orik pointed at the sky as he approached the commander of 3-2.

 

[Korvan Toldreyn]

​

​

Valery Noble Dagon Kaze | Rakaan Horne Sahar​

Familiarity was a curse, sometimes.​

​

As Rakaan came at him, the motions through which he fought were second nature to the Jedi Master. He had seen Rakaan fight a thousand times before, and one of his greatest flaws had always been his predictability. When a strike was made, Korvan was already there to parry it, to deflect the blow and send the Imperial Knight's own momentum against him.​

​

But the strikes he sent in Korvan's direction did more damage than they appeared. For each familiar attack came with a memory, one of better times, of the boy that had once stood before him. Rakaan had ever been prideful, ever flawed, but he had been strong too - he had been good. Korvan had been so proud of him, proud beyond measure. And then he had failed him.​

​

"I know you better than you know yourself, boy - I always have."​

​

A stark contrast to the agony in Rakaan's shouts, and even to the turmoil in his own heart, the Jedi Master's voice was level, his words stern, as if he were giving nought more than a scolding to an unruly student. In a manner, he supposed he was - Rakaan still had so very much to learn.​

​

Valery spoke up as well, and closed the distance to place more pressure upon the boy. Korvan responded as was only reasonable, finding the gaps in Rakaan's defences as they began to open - but he was not as resolute as his companion. Valery might have been ready and willing to take Rakaan down if that was what it came to, but Korvan was not so self-assured, not so certain he could allow such a thing to happen.​

​

Instead, he focused his cuts and counters at Rakaan's weapon, he would disarm his former student, but could he bring himself to harm him? He was not so sure.​

 

[Sylus (Γ059)]

█████ - Rama-Actual
IMPERIAL SECURITY BUREAU
TASK FORCE ████
Kyber Mountains, Ilum
TAGS: Cale Gunderson Aleksandr Stirsea Arlo Renard
Equipment: 2x REC-VKN/01 "Tekko" - Pattern Vibroknuckler, 2x BH-Specter Slicer Vibroknife, 1x Hekler'Kok Survival Machete, 1x Sonic Detonator, 1x CK-60 01x Disruptor Carbine, 1x LS-1 Angry Owl Light Sniper Rifle, Hellion-class Commando Armour Mk I

CompForce: 69/80

Men roared as Alliance troopers and the COMPNOR grunts engaged in furious combat, and Cale’s saber again sprang to life. He’d lost the smoke somewhere along the way, but it didn’t much matter now, he rose and batted back a blaster bolt, then set his mind to killing.

Then he ignited his cerulean blade and moved to meet the Imperial invaders. He used his lightsaber to deflect blaster fire and cut through foes unlucky enough to get close to him. In his left hand he wielded his T-6 heavy blaster pistol. The Thunderer launched sprees of hot plasma at the COMPNOR operatives, holding his ranged assailants at bay while he moved to engage them in melee.

The Assault Troopers of the CompForce were nothing if not fanatical; even as the Jedi and their soldiers clashed against them, they continued onwards, driven by fanatical loyalty and their their pride at being the political vanguard of the New Order. And, short of Sith, the ancient enmity of their ideology against Jedi were the perfect focus of their aggression.

Some of the troopers moved to the side, taking a communication trench to encircle the Jedi. Most were armed with standard-issue DC/01, ironically the same model as the Alliance soldiers. Perhaps it was this that made the Jedi forget, after fighting for years against the old guns of the Maw; the plasmatic bolts exploded on impact. Attempts to deflect the shots only caused them to explode on contact.

​

… only to find himself in the midst of a battle on the slope of a kyber mountain.

Shots were fired from both sides. Instinct took over as Kai batted the bolts back to the ones pulling the trigger, cutting a line through the ranks of petty infantry toward what he could only hope was safety.

Sylus stopped when he realised the presence of another; his live status tracker of the combat group showed unmistakably that another was here, at a flanking angle to the CompForce. Ambush? No, he would have spotted it. Whoever this third Jedi was got lucky. Sylus now had to decide if he wanted to take this one out or join the attack on the original two.

No such thing as luck, the old instructors, and even his Imperial Knight mentor, would say. Sylus detoured from his path, cutting into a perpendicular trench to intercept this Jedi.

While Kai was being shot at by the CompForce troopers, Sylus tossed his sonic detonator at him from behind. Once it detonated he charged with his carbine, firing.

 

[Sara Roche]

Lieutenant Sara 'Meteor' Roche
GADF Marines, 222nd Nova Corps, 121st (Augmented) Battalion, 3rd Company, 3rd Platoon​

Location: EASTERN KYBER MOUNTAINS - PASS OF THE PALADINS, Ilum
Objective: Break the Imperial line
Equipment: REC/STA-02 Advanced Shocktrooper Armour, REC-RCG/01 "Reaper" Particle Beam Chainblaster w/ grenade launcher, REC-DC/04 "Feverwasp" Particle Blaster Pistol, C-11 "Nastirci" Combat Knife, REC-VC/01 Tactical Visor; Starship Model
ENGAGING: FN-999 Sid Berik

​

Sara was wondering if her plan needed readjustment as the Stormtroopers seemed to continue flooding in when the sky fell.

A thunderous roar and a large volume of displaced air sent Sara and her squad into cover, slamming some of them into the trench wall. Sara got back to her feet quickly, but she could not make sense of the situation. The enemy gunfire was basically gone, and the sunlight seemed to be blotted out. Had she been knocked out for hours?

She chanced a peek around the corner of the trench before she realised there was no more trench ahead of her. Instead, gargantuan pieces of a Star Destroyer had smashed into the ground, completely flattening and burying almost the entirety of the trench beyond her.

<".... Blue 6, anyone on this frequency?">

<"Blue 6, I copy.">

<"This is Anvil, we are getting no, repeat, no readings from Red or from half your platoon. Verify.">

Sara checked her HUD. All of 2nd Squad had dropped off her readings, as had many others.

<"LT, you read?">

<"Vilun, status on your squad."> Sara radioed as she helped her men to their feet.

<"Something came out of the sky... I think we lost at least three. The entire trench is blocked.">

<"Alright, hold position. See if you can raise Owed.">

Sara signalled her comms tech to use his armour's cameras to look over the lip of the trench, feeding the images to her HUD. As the cameras peeked over, she involuntarily gasped. The damage was far more severe than she realised; almost the entire trench system visible from her perspective had been squashed under the parts of a Star Destroyer. Sara noted with some humour that fate must have been displeased that Marines were fighting on the ground, so it decided to bring a ship to the battlefield.

As the camera panned up, she saw why the sky had darkened; a gigantic cloud of debris and smoke trailed the sky, not to mention the shadow of the debris blocking out the sun.

<"Blue 6 to Anvil 6, we have Skyfall Condition 1, repeat, Skyfall Condition 1. We got the guts of a Star Destroyer in the middle of this trench system.">

The line was silent for a moment.

<"Blue 6, advance into the next line immediately. The rest of the battalion will follow. Do you copy?">

Sara understood, but still dreaded the command. She knew the shock of the impact would throw the defenders into chaos and wipe out most of the first-line defenders; now was the time to strike, while the, well, anvil, was hot.

<"I copy, moving now.">

<"Good hunting.">

<"Blue 6 to all platoon elements; change in objective; assault the next Imperial line now. Hit 'em while they're off their feet."> Sara looked around at her squad.

<"First squad, ready?">

<"Ever-ready!">

Already down the line she could hear fighting starting back up and a swelling roar; the rest of the battalion were attacking. Not one to be left in the dust, Sara and 1st squad rendezvoused with 3rd Squad at their side of the trench, closest to the enemy. As one, they clambered out of cover and charged the second line: scattered imperials along the flanks of the trench were retreating, and Sara's platoon cut them down. To their side, she could see elements of her battalion funnel towards her, to the flanks of the trench were there was less debris, though she saw some squads weaving through the Star Destroyer's pieces, using it as cover to hit the enemy at the centre.

Around her squad was a mix of the other units attached to the 121st; other Marines, but also Army troopers and some other militia types she did not recognise. As they passed the fifty metre mark the Imperials in the second line got their response together and fired, but the mass of bodies concentrated on the flanks powered through and fell into the trenches, engaging in close combat. Sara skid to a stop as she jumped feet-first into a communication trench junction; taking half-cover behind a barricade she opened up with her Chainblaster down the trench leading deeper into the enemy defenses as the other fanned to the side to clear this layer of the trench.

 

[Grendel Krayt]

Sōla Taan
​

"C'mon then! Chop chop, Mando, it's time ti jet!" said the Jedi and with that she shot off down the tunnels.

Grendel took a moment for the news about the falling ship to sink in, flicking through some comm channels in order to confirm the news the Jedi was indeed correct about the ship. With a shrug Grendel set off at a dead sprint after the Jedi, gaining speed quickly thanks to his jet pack flaring.

"The names Grendel" he called out.

To Grendel's knowledge he was technically betraying his contract with the Empire by "teaming up" with the Jedi. The Empire did not take kindly to turn coats even if they were mercenaries their may be hell to pay later but that was future Grendel's problem.

 

[Rakaan Horne]

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

Rakaan had become thoughtless, absent all careful consideration. His movements had not come from an analytical mind that deciphered the movements of his foes with a swift and intellectual precision. By no means a dull minded combatant, able to contend with seasoned Jedi despite his youth, though the memories ingrained within his muscles determined each targeted move. The Imperial had acted on instinct, a husk of his former self; the sound of his own laughter had become distant and grimly unobtainable, the silence of a simmering rage was now uncomfortably familiar.

Even as the sky itself split open with flaming and falling wreckage, Rakaan remained focused on Korvan. He continued to trade blows against his former master, this newfound strength urged him forwards and threw himself into an advance with the Jedi left on the backfoot. In the middle, their blades had met and locked but with Master Noble so close behind, Rakaan had known there was no time to exert his strength over Korvan's and see him crushed beneath his might. Instead, Rakaan surged forwards with one hefty push that momentarily had thrown Korvan off-balance, only to release his dominant hand from the saber and lurch forwards with a punch that struck across the Jedi Master's face.

Left open, Rakaan swung in the heat of the moment. His leg instead torn out from under him, and the oddly chilling words of Valery seeped into his fractured psyche only to be followed by Korvan's own. In a lapse of judgement, he hesitated before the sudden return to desperate blocks being made. Forced onto the defensive, strikes from both sides only defended against by a deep concentration on the Force. The same concentration that shattered with the sudden arrival of a downed fleet.

The landscape shifted violently, rumbled and roared as the cruiser destructively slid across it. Forced to bob and weave between the falling debris, their duel seemed to have come to a temporary end with Rakaan leaping across and under a bent, arcing piece of metal that became littered with lethal levels of scrap. Only then had their words felt true, allowed to enter his mind, a natural colour returning to his eyes with distress plainly depicted across his features. His breathing, frantic. Each word, a knife embedded into his heart and the mere sounds of their voices twisted it.

Stubborness reigned, for now.

The sight of Korvan returning to him sparked those same instincts, all too aware of the corner Rakaan had backed himself into. He bounded ahead in a Force-imbued leap, one that set himself far over the Jedi and on top of a large chunk of the downed cruiser. It was thin, three men wide, but long and served as a ramp that lead to the walls of the mine, and into the caverns the Imperials tore the minerals from. He ran, reposition and reconsider, intent to disappear into the caves.

Catch them by surprise, should the moment call for it.

 

[Sion Lorray]

PADAWAN OF THE CAPTAIN OF THE TORTUGA COMPANY

ILUM | DRILL SITE | CAVERN SYSTEM

​

The scream echoed through the caverns and made Sion's blood run cold.

Someone was in danger.

Yet... Gabriel was his primary target. His master ordered him. It was even worse that the fellow Padawan didn't just sit tight and wait for extraction. No, the brazen youngling was running around, causing mayhem from the emotions surging through the Empathy Sion was attempting to hold. It made it even more difficult to keep his presence near his mind without being overwhelmed.

The scream however...

It kept echoing in his mind.

Sion set his jaw and began to climb towards the echo. The scream had cut short, which could mean they were dead. He wouldn't fail Gabriel, but Jedi were taught to help everyone.

He couldn't prioritize one life over assistance he could lend right now.

"Hello?" Called out as Sion stepped foot into the deeper cavern. His lightsaber snap-hissed into existence, bathing the further reaches into light right as Cordé cursed. "Mother fether…" Which made Sion blink and hesitate ever so slightly. "You are alive... are you well?" That's when Cordé would see the familiar burned face looking down on her.

However there was no recognition from the other side.

Mainly because she was in full armor get-up with a helmet on.

"Can you stand?"

---

---

​

Allies: Cordé Sabo | Dominik Borra | Tiric Sar'andor | Driver
To Rescue? Gabriel Pryce
Enemies: Marcad

 

[Jos Krayt]

ILUM | ORBIT
THE ENCLAVE | UNITED ENCLAVE NAVY
ALLIES: GA | Liedran Kathause | Pa'Kar Sang | Minerva Fhirdiad | Aela Wren | Jadwiga Drozd
ENEMIES: THE EMPIRE | OPEN
ENGAGING: Ignacious Korvan | Aculia Voland | Rohak Vizsla | Veno
GEAR: In bio

Spoiler: fleet

• Flagship:
  • The Vhipirheim (90% | 100%)
  ​
• Support:
  • 2x Verminoth-Class Star Destroyers:
    • The Summa-Verminoth (89% | 100%)
    • The Fury (81% | 100%)
  • 1x MNV-16 Y'ivra-class Interdictor
    • The Void (100% | 100%)
  ​
• Front:
  • 4x Rancor-Class Cruisers:
    • The Rancor (0% | 0%)
    • The Sunderance (59% | 87%)
    • The Vision (71% | 92%)
    • The Trinity (68% | 100%)
  ​
• Flank:
  • 8x Acklay-Class Frigates:
    • The Acklay (84% | 100%)
    • The Herald (72% | 100%)
    • The Dawn (0% | 0%)
    • The Huntress (51% | 89%)
    • The Avenger (73% | 100%)
    • The Chimera (0% | 0%)
    • The Nebula (72% | 100%)
    • The Erebus (81% | 100%)
  ​
• Compliment:
  • ’Howler’ Basilisk War Droids
  • MNV-AV12 Ra'gr Assault Boarding Pod
  • MNV-56 Keldab-class Assault Dropship

THEME​

Jos watched closely as the fleet of freighters descended and collided with the enemy fleet, engulfing nearly the entire area of space on concussive hellfire, massive chunks of debris and shrapnel flying all over the Imperial line at devastating speeds. The scanners indicated that a number of ships were destroyed, as well as several more damaged. While it didn’t dislodge them, it certainly shook them up properly. And the chain reaction merely kept going as one freighter after the other went up in an explosion powerful enough to level an entire city, right between the Imperial ships. ”Once our frigates are in position, we-”

”Sir! The Alliance fighters are targeting the escape pods!”

Jos looked to the officer for a moment. ”You can not be serious?” He muttered, but the officer merely shook his head. ”Dead serious, sir.” He spoke up. ”... What kind of lunatic did the Alliance put on that ship?” He looked back to the Alliance carrier moving in to engage. For Mandalorians, acts like those were nothing new. And in certain situations, it was needed to do so. But it was not The Way. Not in this kind of engagement. The Shaman sighed as he looked back at his officer.

But they had no time to act on it before one of their ships burst into flames from the salvo of the Imperial left flank. ”We’ve lost the Dawn, sir! Detecting pods around it, Basilisks are bringing them to us.” Another officer spoke up. ”Move our cruisers in against those Star Destroyers, signal the Summa and Fury to fire everything at them. They are our biggest concern. And move the Vhipirheim closer, target that Pellaeon. Intensify forward shields, we’re going to have some fun with that Destroyer.” He ordered with a determined voice as he leaned against the dashboard in front of him, his visor glued to the engagement in front of him.

”What of the superweapon, sir?”

”Our vode will take care of it along with the Jedi. If we fire the solar cannons at it again, we will risk killing our own people.”

”Understood sir.”

”And one other thing. Those Basilisks in charge of saving our pods… give them new orders…”

The Dawn’s wreckage melded into the massive debris field circling around the fleets, posing a danger for anyone trying to maneuver through the area. But that did not stop the Enclave frigates from darting up and moving through with surprising grace and agility. Another ship, unfortunately, came to a stumbling halt as well, smoke and flames pouring from various impact holes along its hull. The ion cannons of the Imperial fleet disrupted the shields enough for numerous mass driver shells to rake it from bow to stern.

Claxons blared as warning lights flashed throughout the Chimera. The reactor was destabilizing, no matter what the engineers did to contain it. ”Come on, Gar, we gotta move!” Oska Krayt shouted at his friend as they sprinted through the halls of the frigate.

”You try running with a karkin’ chunk of steel through your leg! I told you we needed to keep our jetpacks on!” Gar Rook fired right back as he limped along as quickly as he could.

:: All hands, abandon ship! Repeat, all hands, abandon ship! :: The voice of the bridge crew sounded off through the intercoms. Oska stopped and wrapped an arm around his friend to help him get to the escape pod. Other Mandalorians piled into airlocks and launched into space, making their way back to their own ships under jetpack power in order to leave the escape pods for the wounded and those without pressurized suits.

Something Gar and Oska were very grateful for.

They jumped into a pod along with a few others and launched from their burning home. ”There she goes…” Oska muttered as he watched the ship sink further away, eventually erupting in a violent explosion. Their home, their baby, lost to the void. Another wreck in the sea of mechanical corpses around them.

The escape pod lurched, sending those inside tumbling around. Oska did what he could to help Gar with his wound, but the young Rook merely kept on cursing in various languages through the pain. ”The kriff grabbed us?” He groaned.

Oska leaned against the window to look up, seeing the tail of a Basilisk overhead… but what surprised him the most was another pod pressed against theirs. And the imperial crewmen staring back at him with equally wide eyes. ”What the kriff… Gar, you ain’t gonna believe this.”

The Vhipirheim, along with the two Star Destroyers, hurled salvo after salvo of ion shots at the Imperial capital ships, immediately followed up with devastating turbolaser and mass driver shots capable of leveling entire city blocks. A battle of mechanical titans was underway in the orbit of Ilum, an unstoppable force of beskar clashing against the immovable fleet of Imperial iron.

The frigates and Basilisks in the debris field shifted their focus to a new priority, the corvettes defending the bigger capital ships. Anti-capital missiles, proton torpedoes, and turbolaser bolts roared towards the nimble Imperial vessels, while shields and enormous pieces of debris helped to protect the frigates from incoming fire. One particularly crafty frigate, the Erebus, used its size and weight to ram into a massive chunk, presumably a part of the aft section of an Imperial ship, and send it hurling towards a few of the corvettes. But even if it missed, the collision course was lined up nicely with the neck assembly and bridge of a New Imperial Star Destroyer.

In the meantime, the cruisers were doing what they did best. With the elegance of a brick and the brutal simplicity of a haymaker in a bar brawl, they closed distance with the Imperial ships and let loose with their batteries of powerful weaponry. Their shields were working overtime, but their hulls took the damage like a line of spice on a wild night out. They were living up to their name, and they made sure the Imperials knew it too.

But things became problematic in a matter of moments.

:: This is Fury, we have a breach onboard. Enemy combatants onboard, need assistance. ::

Jos turned and looked out of the port side window at the Fury. The damaged vessel was still docked, and cannon batteries were turning to engage. But the damage was done. They had no idea how many got on, and her main fighting force was onboard the superweapon.

”I am going over there.” he muttered as he slid his helmet on. ”Sir?” His second officer muttered with confusion. ”Y-you won’t be able to fly over, sir!” Jos stopped for a moment to look back at him. ”I never said I was. Do not worry, Asken, they will fold. I shall return once the Fury is secured. See to it that we secure as many vode as well as Imperials as we can.” He reassured his comrade, before entering a private briefing room on the bridge.

Taking a deep breath, Jos took his staff and scraped it along the floor, drawing faint shapes around him as he drew the Force through his body. A bright light started to emanate around him, encompassing him entirely before it vanished, leaving an empty briefing room.

On the Fury, the ship’s turbolaser cannons opened fire on the enemy ship docked to it. The airlock vented a few Mandalorian troops before an emergency bulkhead closed up, but they were quick to fly around and get back in through another airlock to keep up the fight in the hangar area.

Jos emerged with his electrostaff in hand, carefully watching as the dozen or so warriors tried to take down the enemies onboard. His visor shifted to look for their targets as he started a calm walk towards them.

 

[Hal Vaiken]

IMPERIAL SPECIAL FORCES
SCAR SQUADRON
Kelinna Tryn Margo Liaeris Enigma Actual Castor E-196 Katja Javik
ENGAGING: Corin Trenor Iris Arani Jand Talo

​

Sparks sizzled as vibroblade and lightsaber locked in a stubborn clinch between Imperial and Jedi. Sarge pressed with all the strength and will he could muster against a boy aided by the Force. Neither could take their eyes off the life-threatening swords inching away at each other's throats. A pure contest of raw brawn.

In the corner of his vision, an alarming light of another Jedi's saber grasped the bits of attention the SCAR commander could afford. The light grew brighter and brighter as the kill slash of the girl came down upon the stormtrooper. He knew a rebuke from his grav-glove would come late. Too late--

And then the Empire saved him from impending doom.

A shockwave thundered through the tunnel system and across the Hallowed Scar tearing everything apart and shoving everyone in directions of its own volatile will. Foundations cracked as levels collapsed upon each other. Floors flattened together. Entrances became dead ends, dead ends became exits. The floor beneath their feet disappeared plunging everything into fathomless depths with no known destination in mind.

The Alliance battleship had crashed shattering large sections of the mining operations but also further disfiguring the surface of the holy Jedi planet, extending the Hallowed Scar's borders and enlarging its size.

Light brushed against the master sergeant's face as cold wind dried the bloodied gashes carving his features. The right side of his helmet had been shattered leaving his left eye open to the ruthless ice-cold atmosphere of the planet. The frigid wind bit like a dying animal at his wounds. The soldier's memory was a shattered mirror, elusive fragments escaping his reach. He reached for his helmet and flung it from his head, letting it tumble to the side.

Smoke billowed in the air and cinder and soot filled his nostrils. It almost felt foreign, the smell and taste of battle. How long had it been since he had last waged war without the faceless helmet, buckled with air filters, donning his head. Sarge reluctantly staggered back up on his feet, brushing his sweat and blood-matted hair back. The cold wind grazed bitterly the shaved undercut of the trooper. He blinked once, twice, thrice, to steady the dizziness plaguing his vision before his eyes settled on the slowly rising figure nearby. The memories came rushing back like a sledgehammer that pounded the details of his mission into his head. He may still be unsure of his name, or his background but he knew what he had to do.

Scalp the Jedi.

With the vibroblade and carbine lost, Sarge rushed with bare, gloved hands at the boy. Before he could fully stand up, the SCAR commander fired a gut-spilling kick at the boy's stomach. Where his comrades were -- it did not matter.

He would be done with their friend before they reemerged from their tombs of snow.
​

 

[Cale Gunderson]

Objective I
Allies: GA, Aleksandr Stirsea , Arlo Renard
Enemies: Sylus (Γ059)
_________________________________________________________
​

Plasma here magnetically accelerated slugs on Thyferra, blasters might've been the standard across the galaxy, but the powers that were always seemed to have some alternative on a mass scale. He should've expected it, should've anticipated it, and brought a sidearm, but he hadn't, so he could only counter. Cale ripped a section of the trench free, shielding himself and some of the men from the oncoming torrent. But as was the way of war, not everyone could be so lucky.

Men and women fell, some injured, some dead, and Cale muttered an angry curse under his breath, before the force called his attention to the sky. A chunk of metal impacted into the ice and snow, and showered the Imperials and Alliance both in a spray of debris, Cale disengaged his saber and looked up at the Alliance warship as it crashed into the planet, raining debris and chaos. Even for war, this had gone to hell.

Amidst the chaos though, as he trusted in his troops to cover him, a Twi'lek wordlessly moving to his side and laying down cover, Cale reached out. Firstly, he sensed it, another Jedi, cut off and alone, secondly, he focused his mind on protecting his people. A long shaft fell towards them, and with the might of the force the Jedi reached out and gave it a nudge. The debris fell off course, crushing soil instead of soldiers.

"Aleks!" He screamed out to his former Padwan, now partner, pain spreading in his side as something, be it debris or a shot from the enemy's weapons skimmed a less armored area. He held his focus, and wrenched the falling barrel of a turbolaser off course so that it did not crush one of his fireteams. "Aleks there's another one of us out here, get them to us now!"

It crossed his mind to call for the ship, to get the wounded out, but in this chaos all that would do was get Ronan shot down. If the Mandalorian lived, then Cale would never hear the end of it, and if he didn't, then Cale would have gotten another friend killed. He wasn't willing to run the risk, not now.

Right now, he had kids to save, and a war to win.

"Eyes up, you spot their commander, you tell me!" He barked, one particularly brave Imperial dropping down onto them with violent, trained swings of a blade. Cale twisted, focused, and felt the phantom limb hanging at his side, balled the ethereal fingers, and sucker punched the trooper into the trench wall. The impact caught the bottom of the soldier's breastplate, denting the armor at the impact site, cracking the ribs beneath, and before he could groan, Cale snapped his head sideways with the force of the strike to the head, putting him out of the fight in an instant.

That was another one down, but there was always more, and Imps didn't get deterred by losses.

​

 

[Simon Meinrad]

C A V A L I E R
THE EMPIRE
ILUM

"Pleae, walk away from the road your order follows right now and I will walk away from it too. Let me just get my Padawan out of here and I'll leave."

“I’m afraid I cannot do that, Zhea,” he knew it would break her to hear those words from him. Words he, too, did not wish to utter. How cruel fate was to bring them on opposite sides when they once fought together as Jedi.

But maybe there was still hope to convince her…

Something supernatural occurred as something came to life. Some sort of entity of the Force he did not know of. Something native perhaps, but it shouldn’t be a surprise considering the nature of Ilum.

A hand outstretched to the Jedi, an olive branch to her. “You don’t have to waste your talents for the Jedi, Zhea. There is much more to learn than from their narrow views on the Force and the Galaxy. Join me, and together we can bring peace and order to this corrupt Galaxy. No more pointless wars from the obsolete dogmas of the Jedi and Sith. We can bring balance that can last generations upon generations. Your Padawan can also help in achieving that vision.”

All she had to do was say “yes”; accept his hand and leave the ignorance of the Jedi.

But if she were to deny his invitation, then he would have no other choice…

OLD FRIEND
Zhea Nox ​

 

[Zhea Nox]

ECLIPSE
CAVERNS | ILUM
ALLIES: Varen Ardos | Osarla Ridor | Gabriel Pryce | NJO | GA | ENCLAVE
ENEMIES: TE
ENGAGING: Simon Meinrad
GEAR: Lightsaber | Collapsible Force-imbued staff | Cortosis-weave Undershirt | Phrik Pauldron and vambraces

ALOHA 'OE​

"I'm afraid I cannot do that, Zhea,"

Zhea's eyes closed as her heart clenched at these words and her hand clenched tightly around the lightsaber hilt that remained disengaged.

Images then flashed through her mind - a falling ship, pandemonium. But it didn't matter - not in that moment. Not the destroyer hitting the ground or the resulting rise in power from the planet. Right now there was only two old friends on opposing sides - both equally loathe to let the other down.

"You don't have to waste your talents for the Jedi, Zhea. There is much more to learn than from their narrow views on the Force and the Galaxy. Join me, and together we can bring peace and order to this corrupt Galaxy. No more pointless wars from the obsolete dogmas of the Jedi and Sith. We can bring balance that can last generations upon generations. Your Padawan can also help in achieving that vision."

Her azure gaze fell on him once more. It was tempting. It really was. But at the mention of her Padawan, it was like cold water splashed on her face. Her head shook sadly as she took a step back from his hand.
"I can't, Simon. I can't do that to him. To the young ones still in need of guidance." she finally said. She knew what that meant - he could not turn on his order either. "It's not about my wishes anymore." It was a heavy weight on her - having to show him away. She knew what he was trying to do and a younger Zhea might have taken him up on that.

But she couldn't anymore.

"I do not want to fight you, Simon. But I can't let you follow through on your endeavour either." she said, lifting the hilt and letting it rest in both her hands as she held it close to her chest. Holding onto it as if it were a lifeline. She looked down at it, throat almost tight before she looked at him again.

"I give you a last chance to walk away, Simon. Please take it."

She lowered the hilt again into one hand, finger not far from the emitter.

She knew he wouldn't turn away.

 

[Arlo Renard]

One moment he was deflecting blaster bolts, his progress slow, but progress nonetheless.

In the next, his ears were ringing, his teeth rattling, and his mind screaming in animal terror as sonic vibrations wracked through his body, making the snowdrifts dance.

The sonic grenade had gone off close enough to him that it should’ve vaporized him entirely, but by some stroke of luck the waves were partially blocked by some rocks. That didn’t stop Kai from panicking, buried Bamarri instincts resurfacing.

The vibrations will shatter me.

Unable to control his initial reaction, he fled from the source of the sonics. This at least prevented him from being blasted by the carbine, though he sensed the bolts striking the ground where he had once stood. But he was wide open now, out of cover, his lightsaber spinning wildly as he deflected shots from all angles.

He couldn’t keep it up for long.

Sylus (Γ059) Cale Gunderson Aleksandr Stirsea​

 

[Cordé Sabo]

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

"You are alive... are you well?"

Cordé knew that voice.

Worse, she knew that face. That scar. Even in the bluish light of the caves, from that sabre that had ended a Sith Lord on Teta, it was unignorable.

Regardless, she didn't answer. She couldn't answer. Air struggled between her lungs and lips, and only a few hoarse coughs came out before they solidified to a proper groan. There'd been a concussive impact at the back of her helmet, her HUD was reporting.

"Can you stand?"

To show and not tell, Cordé drew her legs under her and, with her free arm, placed it down to whatever was next to her for support. To her surprise, it wasn't cold snow biting through the fabric of her gloves; instead, a strangely firm platform. She looked over, wide-eyed. All the bodies from above had fallen below. And she was sitting on top of them.

There was something unequivocally disturbing about that.

"Yes." She eventually muttered through her voice modulator and with a level of exertion, manage to sit upright. Although, still imbalanced because of the...bodies. The HUD didn't clear. She could barely see. And her clipped, quick successive breaths were fogging up the inside of her goggles.

"Can't believe this." She murmured through clenched teeth, fighting the pain in her shoulder that resisted her from using both arms to reach up and peel off her helmet. Just one hand flicked beneath the chin and shoved upward until the magnetic release depressed.

Instantly, cold air flushed her face. The watering around her eyes threatened to freeze entirely, and she felt the stab of cold rush her throat and swarm her lungs.

"Hi..." She sat there with her helmet in her lap. Bouncing between the need to plug her shoulder back into her socket or regulate her winded self's inhale-exhales. What would she tell a patient? Breathe first. She'd need to take deep breaths to counterbalance the shock of the re-socket maneuver. "..Again."

Above and around them, the caverns continued to rumble and quake, moaning under the concussive weight of the crashed Courageous on its slopes.

---

ALLIES | GA | NJO | TFY | UP ABOVE AND NO LONGER IN PROXIMITY Dominik Borra | Tiric Sar'andor | Driver
DROP-IN VISIT | Sion Lorray
FOES | THE EMPIRE | Marcad