Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

Invasion Kill Them All and let God Sort them Out: AC Invasion of TSE held Ziost, Mirial, Ruuria



ZO1.png

Location: Outside New Adasta
Task: Outrage
Music: Burgundian Lullaby
Tag: Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim


The rejection of more casual conversation was met with a lofted brow and a briefly dying smile, though Cedric quickly recounted his initial reaction. If she wished to play things from the angle of hierarchy, then he would acquiese. The Jedi exile listened in silence as Ingrid spoke her piece, his gaze jumping from the red-haired woman to the city and back again as the conversation continued further. He understood her position, to a certain degree. Honor was a matter of importance to some, and while he was not familiar with the general reputation of the Eternal Empire, wanting to salvage it was something he sympathized with.

Even still, for all Ingrid's reasoning, she was wrong, and if he could not show her why then it was likely her empire would be doomed to the same fate the Sith were destined for.

"Mister Grayson it is then," Cedric mumbled as he turned to face her once more, the fires of New Adasta momentarily forgotten as he met her gaze. How she had risen to her position he had no idea, but he understood the current Sith Emperor's apparent captivation well enough. For his part, Cedric had always made a point to ignore the aesthetics of his equals. Far too many great man had been dragged down by their desires for women that were well out of their reach, and the exile had worked to kill whatever wants might have lingered in his heart. Anything otherwise would have been a disservice to the Ashla and his people, and yet the very fact that he'd noticed her in such a sense was a sign of weakness.

Something to be purged further in his private meditations. There was no room for sentiment or animalistic tendencies on the path he currently walked.

"I will speak to you candidly empress," his smile faded, his arms locking behind the small of his back as he looked up at the empress, his voice dropping in such a way as to be akin to a waterfall crashing upon a mass of rocks in its grave portent. "You are not responsible for this conflict whatsoever. The Sith have slaughtered millions in their conquests. This war was inevitable, you were just an excuse. The imperial separatists hate their former overlords, and they won't stop until the empire has been extinguished. For my part, the Sith murdered my entire world. I have no living family save for a nephew because of them. My wife, my parents, my siblings, uncles and aunts, cousins, friends, coworkers - butchered at the hands of tyrants in the name of Sith supremacy."

Whatever façade of calm he might have worn melted away as he spoke further. It was not hatred that drove Cedric Grayson, but revulsion, disgust, intolerance. Pity. "I sympathize with those suffering at the hands of the Bryn'adul and the Maw, and when I have killed every last Sith in the Tingel Arm, when I have crucified their officers, when I have shown the galaxy the inadequacies of their leaders, when the title of Sith becomes little more than a token of mockery for the lame and the idiotic, when Korriban is just a memory, then I will turn my armies to extinguish the fires of every other power that dares to call itself a conqueror."

Cedric's expression might have been confused for one of anger, but in truth its source was an unwavering sense of purpose. He had been born to remove the Sith from the galaxy forever. Every bit of history would be expunged, every hint of culture removed, every holocron, emblem, even the markings upon silverware forged in Sith factories melted away. That was his sole purpose. The only reason he still lived. "The idea that we could EVER have peace with the Sith is naïve at the least, and dangerously ignorant at the least. If you court them, Empress, they will betray you in time. I promise you, I swear upon the Ashla herself, that they will betray you, and when they do, you will remember this moment and wonder why you rejected my offer."

The hand lingered there despite her inaction.

"End it with diplomacy then. The Sith Empire is dying. Every Sith power is dying. If you stand with them, I can't promise your safety or that of your empire. So long as your soldiers do not raise arms against us, the Crusade will not come for you, but I cannot promise the NIO will be so merciful, or the Galactic Alliance. More importantly, if you stand with the enemy as they expire, I can't guarantee anyone will come to help when the Maw inevitably comes for you either."

Honor he understood to a degree. The Ashlans held it as a virtue, but Cedric personally found it to be an antiquated idea that had long since lost its use. The empress' further words gave him pause. "War crimes?" He blinked. "You refer to the bombing of the Sith academy, full of combatants? You think that a Sith is not dangerous just because he is young?" Disbelief played across Cedric's face. "I am tired. I am so, so tired, of people clinging to singular moments of weakness to paint the entirety of the Jedi Order as murderers. What war crimes Ingrid? A few students, with no guidance, bombed an academy and were put on trial for it? What about the millions of people in slave camps?! What about the worlds quite literally obliterated at Sith hands?! Entire species driven to near extinction by imperial conquest?! Yet you bring up isolated incidents by individuals punished wholly for their crimes and claim that we are just as bad as the enemy?"

Cedric shook his head, whatever good will he had reserved for the empress evaporating entirely. "If you believe that this makes us equal to the Sith, then you are a fool, and you will lead your nation into ashes. What would you have us do? Lay on our backs and ask the Sith to be gentle? Perhaps provide the lubricant ourselves so that they might think us considerate? This is war empress. People die in war, sometimes innocents, it is unfortunate and we prevent it when we can, the Sith do not. They embrace the slaughter. That is what makes us different than them," he pointed toward the burning city. "That is what makes us better than them. When people cross the line, we put them on trial, we hold them accountable, the Sith give them MEDALS!"

The words were shouted despite Cedric's better intentions. His outrage was not so much with the Empress, but the opinions she represented. So often had he heard that the Jedi had lost their way by people who had no dog in the fight, nothing to lose and a high horse from which they could cast their criticisms freely, and it had grown to be unbearably exhausting.

His body shook slightly from the bitterness that occupied his every breath. The empyrean moved to his words similarly, the creeping presence of the Bogan creeping upon the edges of his perceptions. Cedric drew in a deep breath, mumbled his mantra under his words, and addressed the Empress far more serenely.

"I will make this plain for you, Empress. Publicly renounce the Eternal Empire's connection the Sith. Announce your intentions to join the community of the free world. Make it very clear that you do not associate with the Sith, so that we can welcome you as an equal power to our table. If you continue down this course, when the Sith fall, our allies will come for you, I promise, and it won't be the Maw or the Bryn'adul you need to worry about. If you want to avoid war, truly, then you need to make it very clear that you will work with the allied powers. The only alternative you have is war. You don't need to do it here, we can continue our evacuation as we are, but it needs to be done soon. Your only other option is to prepare for a conflict so total and all encompassing that the entirety your empire will forget what peace even means. I do not tell you this as a threat, my people will not harm yours, but to inform you of the reality of your situation. Stand with the monsters for honor, whatever the hell that even means anymore, or join us in ushering in an age where the Sith are nothing more than a memory. Walk with us into the future, or become part of that memory."

His hand withdrew, but the matter was made clear. "The choice is your Ingrid. Don't damn your people over an idea.
"

 
Last edited:


Field Hospital Stats
[[CODE BLACK]]
[[FACILITY LOCKDOWN]]

DoctorJulian Qar ???
ResidentHazel
Medical Staff??? UNKNOWN
Supplies??? Unknown
Universal Plasma ??? Unknown
Bacta Spray??? Unknown
Bacta Patches ??? Unknown
Wounded INC Staff Casualties

PQ4Ndka.gif




kYpTbUv.png


FIELD MEDICAL REPORT
Protected Document: █ █ █ B-10070 █ █ █


AzLXzUl.png



Obj I: Judgement Day
- - -

Field Hospital | Triage Ready
Medical Narrative

Ready to serve NIO + Allies: DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran | Cedric Grayson Cedric Grayson | Sephi Karneh Sephi Karneh | Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze | Kolson Vrask Kolson Vrask | Amadeus Blackwood Amadeus Blackwood + Others

Bad Guys: Red Boys fucken showed up. Damn. D Darth Malus




LuNOLCE.jpg




✚ C O M P R E S S I O N _ F R A C T U R E ✚
[ + + + ]

> these bones are temporary <


Hazel came back after some much needed discussions, readying up the combat stim though she found the administration request odd. “It’s...it can make you a little weird, your heart may start freaking out at the start but it’ll regulate over a few secs. Just...ride it, ok?” She offered him a reassuring smile, remembering the last time she administered such a cocktail, on accident, to her boyfriend Maz. “Don’t freak out, remember.” She wiped the area clean on his arm and plunged the needle into his upper deltoid. “Listen I don’t know where the doc is, and he’s not coming up on my data pad...I just hope we get to him in time.”

The senior resident grabbed her blaster from the table and stood up beside Yorunarr. “I’m coming with you.” She announced, turning back towards her team with an air of confidence the green gremlin didn’t often have. “I have a feeling whatever is outside is goin’ to be queen to kill, so everyone get ready to help out the wounded.”

✚​

The lightning storm outside the medical pods had dissipated, rattling the last bits of steel until there was nothing else left to shake them. The only sounds around them were the rustling of bodies, fighting for their lives in the most barbaric way.

“Ahhh-fffrr!” The mechanized voice gurgled in agony over the immense pressure concentrated around his torso and back. Despite it all, the doctor stared back down at him, burning into his soul with the only eye he had left. Malus would be able to feel the doctor's own trickle of force energy, though nothing that funneled him power, but only heightened his intent. The Sith would understand then, that Julian didn’t fight for glory, he didn’t fight for fame or material possession. He threw himself into danger for them, for his team, for the civilians and those in need...he would sacrifice everything to keep them safe.

The power inside his mechanized body started to dwindle, the doctor felt his breath hitch from the overwhelming impact of exhaustion. Seconds passed and that borrowed strength was no longer on his side, but that did not stop the doctor nor his fury. Julian balled his fists, pulling everything he had to pry away from the vice around him. He drew back his arm and drove it hard into the dark lord, slamming his knuckles into Malus’s side. He knew the punches wouldn’t stop the tension Malus had put on him, but hell if he wouldn’t try.

The titanium he was encased in did not bend, but the connections to his organic seams started to snap and rip apart with the power of this embrace. “Ahhhh!!!” He bellowed, feeling the lines right under his chest begin to tear away. Soon the sound of shattering glass followed and with it viscous internal fluids dribbled from the gaping holes brought about by force. Julian squirmed trying to get up, dizziness gripped him tightly, swirling the world around him until all he could do was become a machine of repetition. Punch. Punch. Punch.

Then I will kill you and take it from you.

“K-ki….kill..m-m.me...t-then...y-you..will never kn-now....t-true...sa...sacrifice.” Coolant started to pour from his nose, his tears replaced with that same vibrant teal. He kept on, beating into his sides until he heard the crunch and snap that came from the shield housing his own spinal cord. Something unexpected followed as Julian felt the strain of Malu’s arms start to give out. Did he succeed in his task? Swiftly he turned to look at the needle he’d lodged into his neck and notice the fluid was no longer. Staring down at him, blood pooling their bodies in a vibrant display, Julian would utter these words

“F-for...th-the...iron sun….”

"Get your fethin' hands off of our medic, you Sith bastard!"

Was the last thing he heard before things went dark.





█ █ █

 
Last edited:

ZO1.png


Pietro Demici: Ashlan Cardinal, Commander of the Holy Guard

Location:
New Adasta

Loadout: lightsaber, armorweave priest's vestments

Allies: Cedric Grayson Cedric Grayson , DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran , Geiseric Geiseric , Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze , Ishida Ashina Ishida Ashina , Julian Qar Julian Qar , Noel Strasza Noel Strasza , Kolson Vrask Kolson Vrask , Sephi Karneh Sephi Karneh , Zark San Tekka Zark San Tekka , Mrurh'en'lase | Hel Mrurh'en'lase | Hel

Enemies: SF-3335 SF-3335 , Eva Betrik Eva Betrik , The Battalion The Battalion , Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim , Laertia Io Laertia Io , N Nyxeris , Ulrich Ulrich

5m5qOKV.png


Crusader

The sounds of the sniper rounds rang around them as the Holy Guard cleared the rest of the building. One of the Guard took a hit to the shoulder, knocking him to the ground. Two others pulled him to cover, examining him away from the eyes of the snipers. Luckily, the Guard wasn't hurt. They might not have been many in number, but the Holy Guard were well equipped for such an engagement, giving them just enough of an advantage to maintain the momentum of the attack. Nevertheless, they had to do something about the snipers that continued to batter the ruined building.

Pietro took a deep breath, reaching out to the Ashla as he felt the battle around them. Every movement, every blaster bolt that flew through the air... all was under the gaze of Ashla's light. The cardinal traced the path of the bolts to their point of origin, a building about a half a block away. There would be no more waiting...

It was time to end this.

Pietro called out to Ashla as he raised his hands toward the building.

"Ashla, give me the power to protect your loyal servants! Let me be your vessel of light!"

A golden glow began emanating from his eyes as he lifted his hands higher in the air, repeating the mantra as the battle raged around them. With each repetition, he could feel his grip tighten around the building through the Force. With each word, he could feel the weak points in the building harboring their enemies. As he called out one last time, Pietro pulled his hands downward, screaming as he pulled the building down. It fell to the ground in a roaring crash, leaving nothing but rubble. The light faded from Pietro's eyes, and he took a moment to catch his breath. Several members of the Holy Guard moved to his side, but he merely pushed them away. Though he was out of breath, he refused to appear weak in front of his most loyal servants.

"It's alright, brothers. The threat has been handled."

Pushing himself away from the wall, he drew his lightsaber and ignited its azure blade.

"We go forward. Only forward. We stop for no one."

The Holy Guard responded with only a quick salute before moving for the door, Pietro leading the way. They would continue the advance, until the bitter end, if need be. The more ground they managed to gain, the greater the number of lives that would be spared. They wasted no time moving back through the ruined streets of New Adasta, slaying all that got in their way.

As they made their way deeper into the city, they came upon a large house. It was likely a beautiful home, once, possibly belonging to a wealthy family. If the situation were different, they may have left it alone. As they had previously determined, however... no stone would be left unturned.

The Holy Guard blew the door away with a remote charge, storming into the building to find two individuals. One was an older man, and the other was a young boy, no older than 20. They were hiding away from the door, likely startled by the explosion. The Holy Guard secured the rest of the building as the cardinal approached them.

"Tell me, have you heard of Ashla's guiding light?"

The older man shook his head, holding his hands out as if afraid they would shoot.

"W...We... we don't want trouble. We're just civilians. We don't have anything to do with this."

Pietro looked to their mantle, pointing toward a hologram of the Sith emperor.

"Then why do you carry the visage of a heretic in your home?"

The old man began to shake more violently.

"They force us to have that in our home! We... we don't have a choice!"

As Pietro studied the man, he asked for guidance through the Force. Though the man's fear was genuine, Pietro could tell he wasn't telling the whole truth. As he was about to ask another question, one of the Holy Guard approached, producing another hologram of the two men standing with another; a man clad in Sith trooper armor. Pietro's face lit up with disgust.

"And who is this, then?"

The younger man replied in a fit of anger.

"That's my older brother. He fights for our emperor, to kill the likes of you!"

His father tried to calm him, but the young man wouldn't budge.

"Damn your Ashla! Damn your Light! The Sith Empire will prevai-"

A single shot rang out from one of the Holy Guard's blasters. The young man fell limp, a small knife falling from his hand. Pietro closed his eyes, saying a small prayer as the father rushed for his dead son. Opening his eyes, Pietro looked toward the man, tightening the grip on his lightsaber.

"I see. May you find redemption in the next life."

With those words, he cut the father down.

5m5qOKV.png
 

.
ZO3.png
O B J E C T I V E: PROTECT THE FACILITY
He had come to her, the two staring at one another, grief and disbelief hung to them like a cloak. They stood for a moment, unable to speak, yet she could tell from his posture that he was shaken by this. Truth be told, she wasn't faring much better. He wouldn't understand her situation, why she was doing this, and why she had no choice in the matter. She was angry at the situation, angry at herself for being here, and angry at him for showing up. In fact, she was just angry in general. He stated his disbelief, and she could tell he was struggling to process what she was doing.​
Honestly, she was too.​
"I'm not doing this for them, I'm doing it for...someone else." She managed to get out, remaining fixed in her place, trying to justify her actions to herself, telling her that she was doing this for Nyxie. It was important, and if she didn't her friend could be put in danger. But that was a lie, and she knew it. She did it out of loyalty to Nyxie, out of loyalty to the Empire, her Empire. "I don't want to be here, and I don't want to fight you." She confessed, taking a step forward, her saber moving away from her body. She had a duty, she needed to fight him, defend this instillation, but here and now? This wasn't the place, not with so many eyes on them. "I-I don't know what to do."
She grimaced, feeling herself being torn in two. As a squad of soldiers moved in behind Amadeus, she raised her hand to close the door, though he had taken initiative and destroyed the door controls; sealing both of them in the corridor. He reached a hand to her, and she in kind, reached out for him. The force flowed through her, and was directed into the security cameras; disabling them for a short time. There wasn't much time that she had given them, but it was all she could do to ensure he could continue on. "I have to serve my Empire, and this....is my place." She raised her saber, taking the hilt in both hands as she entered Djem-So, her both eyes stinging as she was frustrated beyond belief. "I can't turn my back on my master, not after everything...." She fell still, arms trembling, she had no steel to fight, only the will to feint it.​

oFmkOzR.gif
 
Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud, Leader of the Dawn of Hope
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group
ZO1.png
Objective: Protect the civilians and hospitals
Location: Tundra, outside New Adasta
Equipment: 2x Striith vibrosword | The Soulsabers | Brynja coat and hat | Hersir Imperial Uniform | G1 OmniLink | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland
Writing with: Cedric Grayson Cedric Grayson
dRUm20K.png
[ O Fortuna ]

Ingrid didn't reject the more direct conversation, she just wasn't able to do this. The man didn't know her well enough to know that. If a woman behaves directly with strangers, she plays with them, playing a role. And Ingrid respected the man opposite her so much that she didn't do this with him. She inherited this aloof behaviour from her father, the impenetrable ice armour, that she was only able to lower for only very few people. One day, maybe Cedric Grayson could get her to deal with him more directly, but that wasn’t the day. It wasn’t the man’s fault, the woman’s; she knew about it, but it was genetically present in her.

Ingrid knew exactly that the same fate awaited them, but it was there that her own honour struggled. It was a "sinking ship", and the woman didn’t know the concept of how to give up something. But this was not about her and the woman's ego now, but about the Eternal Empire that she had to represent. These did not make it easier. No, it wasn’t about wanting to protect the Sith Empire at all costs. If she was ever interested in the Sith Empire, those feelings died with the late Adrian Vandiir in her. The woman was never a Sith, not a real Darksider. What has kept her here since Adrian's death?

Her honour is that she doesn’t want to commit treason, even though Adrian would have done it in a similar situation a long time ago. The red-haired woman just wanted to protect her own. She had friends, allies within the Sith Empire, yes, but elsewhere as well. Trusting that they understood this could not be a personal decision, the woman's interests in the Eternal Empire were the first. It has always been the Empire has always been the first for her. Even the family is only secondary. She watched the flames as common sense battled logic in her mind. Then she turned her gaze into Cedric's direction and watched the man's eyes, finally, after his words a wry smile showed up her lips.

"According to this, we return to being rulers and leaders, Lord Grayson." She told the man after calling her the Empress again. Nodded at the man's words, understanding why he was doing what he was doing. She didn't blame him; her own husband did the same after their enemies exterminated their entire family, their clan. However, the woman's face was inscrutable, it was impossible to know what she was actually thinking or feeling. "I’m sincerely sorry, although I haven’t experienced this, my husband did, although they weren’t the Sith in his case, but I know what you might feel, Lord Grayson. I hope you find peace one day."

She also lowered her head for a moment to show her respect and compassion. Meanwhile, it became obvious to Ingrid that again she was the one who had more control over her emotions. She is already used to it; it may have seemed cold, insensitive, but she wasn’t. The Empress just learned to suppress disturbing feelings, so no one can detect them in her. In a very extreme case, emotions were visible on her only, Adrian was one of the cases where anything was seen on her many times. She could not recover from her other husband's death. The red-haired woman nodded at the man's words, believing he would do so. However, there was an interesting question.

"Even if these conquerors are the NIO or the Alliance?" she inquired sincerely.

Ingrid did not consider herself a conqueror, the Eternal Empire naturally grew, evolved, expanded, but not by conquers. The woman knew the Sith, all three of her masters were Sith. True Tacitus denied this a long time ago, but he was a Sith once; Adrian with his cowardice he was the shame of the Sith, the third Scherezade deWinter. In fact, the woman played with the Sith from the moment of the peace treaty. That is why she thought of accepting the Sith Emperor's marriage proposal that when the time came she would behead the snake, from the inside with the killing the Emperor and ending the war from the highest position. This will not happen.

"Thanks for the warning, but I know them very well. I spent quite a bit of time in their circles as a double agent. I had my own plans that would have served your business in the long term, but they no longer matter."

She nodded again at the man's words, knowing he was right. She already had allies within the NIO, hoping for the best so they would be able to stay neutral. The Eternal Empire was not the CIS, whom almost no one dared to attack.

"I am aware of these, Lord Grayson. And Maw has come for us before, as I said on Denon. We were there at Csilla and we were trying to prevent the destruction of the planet. I was aboard on Mercy, I was one of those who blew it up. I know we have no chance against them alone."

Maybe not even with help; but she also had plans with Maw, and its progress depended on Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood . She shook her head at what Cedric had said; Ingrid didn't really think or understand this on the way the man interpreted her words.

" I'm not only seeing things in black and white, I visited many a Sith academy, a lot of students aren’t even Darksider, many even leave the Sith Empire when they get out of there because they don’t want that. Not everyone was a Sith there. And you misunderstood me; I would think the same if the Sith did the same with one of the Jedi Academy. Not you are the only one who is tired, you are not the only one who is fed up with this, me too. What bothers me is that the unarmed, defenceless, civilians on both sides simply consider it collateral damage. Not even trying to protect them, they just sacrifice them for a greater good or bad. And this is wrong! Both sides are equally bad, the Jedi, the Sith. They are the same. They said everything happens due the Force, explain their actions with the Light Side or the Dark Side, they explain their actions with the Force and wrap their cruelty and disinterest in the Force. They are both corrupt. For me, it’s my opinion that the Light Side can make you just as monstrous as the Dark Side. Both sides would have to pay for their sins what they did in this war."

She never hid that she didn't like either side, the Sith knew it, the Jedi knew it; at least the ones she talked to. And she knew a lot of bad and wrong things were happening during the wars because she was part of a lot, but there was a point after which it was too much. Ingrid condemned both sides, not just one or the other. She hoped the man would understand why she said these.

"You have misunderstood me, I know innocents always die, it is inevitable. But I hope you agree that it is wrong that in several places in the war, civilians were killed by members of the Triumvirate only because they did not surrender or because they lived under Sith rule. But I condemn in the same way what the Sith does to sacrifice them. For me, human life is important. As long as the two sides don’t care, I have to treat them the same. Not you, Mr. Grayson, you are a special category, because you seem to be interested in the innocent being left out of the horrors, and I appreciate that. Because you’re only the second one under this war…"

She laughed bitterly for a moment; did the man know what bioweapons the NIO was working on against Force Users? She doubted it, but it wasn't her job to tell him. Anyway, it was enough to look at Tavlar’s accolades for someone to see the NIO also honouring their people for war crimes. Because it is always the winning party will decides what a sin is and what is not. But Ingrid didn't want to argue on that. She looked at the man again.

She never wanted this war…

And the decision was made, Kainan Wolfe Kainan Wolfe , the woman’s dead Emperor even from beyond the grave, finally gets what he always wanted, as did Julius Haskler Julius Haskler .

If the man had not yet withdrawn his hand back, the woman grabbed it, but if he had already done so, she held it out again. She knew there was only one way to give her own people a chance to survive. Ingrid had to do it, the Eternal Empire mattered to her, as an Empress, she was responsible for them, for them and no one else.

"You don’t have to blackmail me, I just try to do what’s best for my people. At the end of the siege, we'll send the diplomatic statement to the Sith High Command. The Eternal Empire withdraws from the Civil War and remains neutral. We will not interfere in further fighting, with maximum humanitarian aid and support, regardless of sides. We are not looking for war with your people, the NIO, or the Alliance, but we will not treat the Sith Empire as an enemy, but we will not support them. I hope I am right and you will be right and that after the death of the eastern region, Bryn’adûl will not get to Core World unstoppably. Is this right for you… Lord Grayson?"

YbCOyAa.png

nBtOGGm.gif
 
Elaine Tear and Morris Crownwraithe walked the woodlands around the Village her students were providing relief for.

Morris was silent, looking straight ahead and not at Elaine as he walked. Elaine observed him. He had a strong, shining presence in The Light...yet he didn't act like someone with the Love of Ashla in their hearts. There was no smile. Never a smile. His green, cybernetic gaze just honed in when he stared at you. His speech was polite, but always frustratingly vague and short.

She stopped, coming upon a shrine in the woods depicting the ancient symbol of Ashla. The Goddess.

Elaine turned to him.

"Would you pray with me?"

Morris didn't give any facial expression. "Alright. But I don't vocalize them."

"That is alright. Ashla always hears our prayers whether we voice them or not. I won't voice them either, if it would bother you."

"Talk all you like." He replied stoically.

Elaine smiled and nodded, kneeling before the shrine. Morris simply got on his knees, not looking at her, not saying a thing. Just staring straight ahead with a blank expression. Elaine thought his manner of prayer stiff and awkward. But to each, their own...

"Goddess. We thank you for your divine protection, and for granting us your blessings so we may help others. May your light always shine upon us. May you love enter us all with ease, and may you continue giving us the strength to counter The Bogan and it's followers at every turn."

Not a reaction from him. Spiritual or Emotional.

Elaine stood up, he did too.

"Why so serious, Morris?" Elaine wondered openly now. "The woods are green. The sun is shining. The flowers are blooming and they are beautiful. So why so little emotion?"

"Never was an outdoors type."

"That's not what I meant." Elaine replied, sighing. "Doesn't the recovery of your world stir anything within you?"

"Emotion is the enemy of a Jedi."

"I never took you as so old school, given your clothes."

"The clothes may change, but the Code remains." Morris said. "Besides, even without it, I wouldn't be given to displays of emotion."

Elaine shook her head sympathetically.

"You're limiting yourself too much, Knight Crownwraithe. The Goddess did not give us emotion so that it might rest within us, utterly unutilized. The Goddess wants us to feel the miracles all around us. The wonders of all it creates."

"But the Goddess allows it to rest within us if that is what we choose." Morris replied. No change in expression or tone. Just a deer in headlights cybernetic gaze.

Elaine suddenly couldn't help but get the feeling the only one talking in this conversation was herself. Still, she tried reaching out again.

"And what's the point of seemingly being unhappy in your task? Why don't you want to be happy, Morris?"

"Who said I wanted to be unhappy? I certainly didn't." Morris replied quietly, the breeze going through dark brown hair.

Elaine was starting to find his behavior baffling for a Jedi. He wouldn't open up at all...never let anyone know what he was thinking.

Elaine was forced to remind herself even the greatest, most heroic Jedi had flaws and faults. Crownwraithe's flaw was that he was boring to talk to, and his fault was that he limited himself to a cold and distant view of Jedi Duty that didn't take people into account except as an abstract.

She was about to express some helpful, well intentioned advice on the perils of remaining so distant when she heard the calls for help.

Both she and Morris were racing back to the Village, Elaine using the Light to invigorate her body to superhuman standards as she sprinted through the forest, watching in shock as Morris kept up by teleporting. The Goddess had blessed such a locked away person with such awesome power?! The Force truly did have a sense of humor.

Her soft blue Lightsaber Blade activated out of a weathered hilt, while a flat green Darksaber type blade erupted from the tip of his spear shaft.

Raiders. Criminals. They must have timed it. A disgusting display of parasitism. They would be punished. They were firing at people, torching the buildings

Elaine moved swiftly, batting aside or reflecting Blaster Bolts back on their source, cutting one down dispassionately. The thievery they were engaged in could not be tolerated. Examples had to be made. Acts of blatant Bogan-indulging such as this would not be tolerated.

Morris blinked in and out of existence, attacking sometimes from seemingly every angle at times to disable an opponent, not kill, while Elaine did nothing BUT kill.

Morris held someone in a Force Stasis, knocking him out with his spear, deflecting bolts with his hand to arms and legs, catching others with Telekinesis before they could kill an innocent, letting them dodge it in time. The Essonians were astonished at his whirlwind antics even more than Elaine's swift, merciless blade. Elaine was internally floored, as was his friend, Rogg, by the sheer power Morris let loose to save the village. The Raiders were either defeated or dead by the end.

Elaine strode up to him as the villagers swarmed the 'Miracle Man'.

"The...the Goddess truly HAS shown you great favor!" Elaine exclaimed. "Morris, the people of Ession need you. The Kaissereich needs you! Think of how many our warriors could protect if they had your wisdom to draw from!"

Morris didn't react, expression unchanged. He had heard similar words from her years ago, as a young boy.

"What will happen to these Raiders?" Morris asked, tone giving away absolutely nothing about his emotional state.

"Crime cannot be tolerated. Especially in such desperate conditions as our people find themselves in. These ones still alive will be crucified. Regrettable, truly, but examples must be made. The people must know the Kaissereich will protect the people and punish lawlessness. As a Jedi, sworn to uphold law and peace, you should understand the sad necessity of capital punishment. As a son of Ession, you should know in your heart that showing tolerance to those giving into Bogan is the path to ruin."

"But Lady Tear! Crucifixion is Barbaric!" Master Rogg protested in disbelief.

"Not as Barbaric as what would have happened had we not been here to protect these people." Elaine replied flatly to Rogg. "If you do not wish to participate in administration of justice, that is perfectly understandable. But do not attempt to prevent it either."

Morris was silent before stepping away from a Raider. The angered villagers began to rush the Raiders, dragging them off to be publicly crucified.

"It would do the Villagers a lot of good to see you drive in the first nail." Elaine advised Morris. "A son of Ession of such great merit as yourself would be a massive source of faith and hope by taking that extra measure to personally protect them as you did just now."

"A daughter of Ession can accomplish the same, as you did your part to protect them." Morris replied emotionlessly. "Besides, I'm not very good with Hammers. Hit my fingers when I try and hit the nail."

Elaine sighed but then nodded.

"Very well...thank you for helping protect these people. The both of you."

Morris didn't react to the sound of Raiders screaming as they were nailed to hastily assembled wooden crosses.

"You're welcome." He said calmly, his Deer in Headlights gaze now having become secretly unsettling to Elaine.

Morris and Rogg began to walk away from the Village.

"Morris!" Elaine called out.

Morris turned, stared.

"Please. Won't you reconsider your travels? The Goddess would surely smile on you eternally for remaining on Ession to teach."

"The Goddess would also surely smile upon me eternally to help people across the Galaxy as I helped this village today. Wouldn't you agree?" Morris asked, betraying nothing. Not anger, not revulsion, not even contempt. It would have creeped Elaine out less if he had actually chosen to voice whatever he was feeling at the moment over the Justice being wrought in the name of the Goddess. But...nothing.

Elaine could find no fault in his logic however, so she nodded graciously. "Be well, Morris and Rogg. May the love of The Goddess live eternally in you."

Morris only nodded, expression unchanged, and headed to his ship...


Present.

The Battalion watched as the Nuetralizers gathered the corpses of Ashlan Crusade soldiers, nailing them to Makeshift crosses covered in runes of white Witch blood. The Ceremony was about to begin.

She had momentarily withdrawn from the battle to enact a deadly ritual the Amalgam had planned out. But it wouldn't happen until the Model 2's reported that they were close to being surrounded by the Forces of DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran .

As The Battalion over looked the thrice decayed battlefield from a Skyscraper, she smiled at the suffering she had caused, took all the pleasure in it that Elaine denied herself as she sat in the circle of runes, soon to trigger a spell that would spread throughout large sections of New Adasta. Xiphos had put a special spell of her own on the Nuetralizers attacking the Blue Hearts. She also decided to reach out to Xiphos, who was currently smirking, with her helmet off as she watched Barran give a lecture on Cladhan, as well as the positions of her forces.

"Ersky, Ersky,Ersky..." She trailed, taking a sip. "You should know by now, it's not that simple. With me it never is."

(Cutaway of John Preston dropping the star of 10 things I hate about you.)

"I brought tanks this time. And fighter support. But you see, I'm actually waiting for you to envelope my troops. Because something really cool will happen once it does. It's gonna be fething insane. Even more insane than this whole war is...like, temporarily..." She said, taking another sip. Under the lights of the burned library they operated in, the terrible trench wound running the length of Xiphos's scalp could be seen faintly under the covering of her ebon hair. Her Light Mutated Eye, the whites a bronze, metallic sheen, the iris a dark green, reflected the face of Barran, mismatched with her gray, cybernetic one that had a glint of gold at the center.

"Y'know, a year ago, when I was still Laertia Io..." She said suddenly out of the blue. "I actually hadn't had the slightest intention of fighting you guys, no matter how much I didn't trust you. Hell, I used to kill Sith all the time. Wounds from Nar Kreeta were still fresh. Most of them weren't physical."

Another sip.

"And then Coren-fething-Starchaser decides there isn't going to be a partnership with the Sith, no matter how much The Bryn'adul are killing every thing in sight. I was never going to accept that decision. Couldn't accept it. Wouldn't accept it. Couldn't take that stupid Barash Vow either. You ever get an order you found really heinous? Did you follow it anyway? Well the order to fight and focus on the Sith after watching Nar Kreeta die was mine. And I couldn't follow it. I knew everything there is to know about killing Sith. Didn't see the point anymore with the Bryn'adul in the picture. Up until Coren made that godsawful choice, you and I might never have locked horns."

She took another sip.

"If you wanna blame someone for making me, look no further than him." She said. "I was ready to defend the SJC to the death until he made that announcement. Nowadays? That 'Justice' they pursue disgusts me. They've sold their souls to destroy the Sith, and let the Galaxy burn in the process. Can't even get to the Bryn'adul half the time because they don't want to let go of the wrongs the Sith have done for even a moment, and I am forced to oppose them and you constantly. The Sith dismembered my parents when I was young. You don't see me forgetting what the bigger threat is. The Sith have taken and smashed everything good and decent in my life even before I opposed you: I still let it go to work with them. What the hell is it with this sudden obsession with Justice? It's a fictional concept. It doesn't exist except on paper. That's because they aren't talking about Justice. It's all revenge talk. All of it. And I do not have the energy to waste helping the Jedi sate their thirst for it."

"Mother?" A Model 1 called out at a comm station. "Model 2's against the Blue Hearts are reporting near complete envelopment by Galidraan reinforcements."

"Excellent! Right on time!" Xiphos exclaimed jovially, pulling out a comlink.

"Begin the operation."

As the Model 2's were getting enveloped by reinforcements and hammered with guns from the wall, several Witches that had hidden themselves on the nearby grounds begin to chant.

Blood runes, painted by Xiphos herself with The Battalion's guidance, began to glow on the chassis of every Nuetralizer attacking the Blue Hearts. It was a one time use. A TIE Oppressor whine in the distance could be heard, along with the rumble of more tanks, but there was no telling where they were gonna strike from. The tanks could not be seen with the temporary enchantments applied, either visually or electronically.

The enveloped forces vanished, the one time teleport spell applied to them caused them to re-appear behind the Galidraan reinforcements, while a vast swath were teleported behind the wall, and immediately started to kill whoever they saw manning the AFV's in a surprise attack, though many Nuetralizers were shredded themselves regardless.

That's when the tanks cloak spell finally burned out, and they were aimed at the wall itself, The MZ-8 cannons began to hammer it, right as the TIE Oppressor finally reached the previously enveloping forces, now in danger of being enveloped themselves for a strafing run.

It fired it's lasers and all its rockets into the Infantry and tanks below.

Meanwhile...

At the signal, The Battalion triggered a deadly ritual, whose control runes had been placed in areas where the slaughter was certain to be heaviest.

The ritual's darkness spread from the center of the ritual sight, raising the tormented spirits of those slain today, making them come back as zombies in multiple places...

Such as the very house where Pietro Demici Pietro Demici and his men had ended a family. The corpses shot up in pure hatred, tackling the soldier who had shot the teen...

Right as a hoard of pissed off Model 1's and 2's marched en masse with loads of Legionnaires, and targeting the house firing heavy machine guns at it...
 
Last edited:



jHiLsO.png


Objective: Judgement Day I
Tag: Starlin Rand Starlin Rand
Equipment:

"I would prefer for your help bu~"

Felix was struck dumb buy the impertinence of the boy, as he would cut in with what little feeble-minded excuse for words they could hope to manage. Felix couldn't help but hold his tongue for a moment as he would blather on about not being here for the civilians. He'd seen enough people having their doors kicked in, blasted away as their souls were torn from their bodies, left for the gods to decide whom was innocent and who was not. The Noble scion tuned out the vacuous words that the child spoke, rather paying attention to the intent that lay beyond them. Words like his didn't have a right for him to register. Part way through his second mouthful Felix would have had enough, interjecting with a tone which would cut through the silence like a thunder-crack.

"So this is what counts for the force of Ashla on the outside, rude, abrasive... proud!? I'd love to see a filthy nobody kid like you try and move me."

Felix would make a slight show of him taking a stance, feeling the light dance around the two of them, gracing their forms as its delicate contact would be absorbed in variable patterns by what they came into contact with them before reflecting in every direction outwards to meet the eyes of any and all who would bear witness to them. An eternal reflective dance that played out before them, fueling Felix's prowess.

As he would focus his power, Felix's body would begin to seem a little bit brighter, the metal on him would brim in turn with a little more luster as he would shift. A flick of his wrist would snap the bladeless basket handle of his saber from the faux ceremonial sheath. There were little more than ten meters between the two of them, distance enough to prevent an immediate hit in the melee, but close enough that the gap would be able to be closed in a heart-beat.

The rylothian man would simmer, insult sharpening his anger, which in turn would sharpen his focus. But Felix wouldn't be the one to attack, bracing himself against the tide of war that was to come, every moment was more time until his reinforcements got here, the clock ticking onward until ships and armoured men would come swarming hundreds strong. When they arrived, this lone soldier, force user or not would not be worth much upon the battlefield.


 
There was the briefest flicker of contact between her Force presence and another, a ghost of a touch before the other pulled themselves inward. A slightly sadistic smirk formed on the Kuati's lips. She would know the feeling of Loske Treicolt for the rest of her life after the woman had delved into her mind and started the whole chain of events in motion. It would not take either of them long, no doubt, to infiltrate the prison and make discover the lab hidden underneath it. Eldaah was making no pains to hide herself.

She wanted them to sense, to come to her. A sudden cessation of life above caught her attention, sharp and violent.

"They'll be here soon," she murmured to herself before looking over at the researchers at work. "Time to evacuate yourselves, gentlemen. My Master will be most curious on what you have to present to her."

The scientists didn't need told twice to leave, although a few were reluctant as their newest specimen had just finished being created in the room below. They started scrambling for any datapads and other equipment they could carry to the hidden emergency exit that would take them to their shuttle offworld. Eldaah on the other hand... well, she started in the opposite direction.

She relished the chance to deal with her enemies, to taunt them that even attempting to break the prisoners out currently would end in pain and suffering for them. A flicker in the Force, not as refined as her Master's senses, detected that of the man who took her arm before it was regrown through a creation of her Master's power base nearby as well. Stepping into the lift to take her above, she relished the opportunity to deal with these enemies. A touch to her datapad would alert security of an New Imperial infiltrator and to use any means necessary to eliminate him. She tossed it aside and drew her lightsaber.

The lift would come to a stop, opening up to the catwalk that led to where survivors of the second battle on Ziost were being held, those that hadn't been changed by the magic unleashed by her Master. At the very end of the hall, her targets were present, having just arrived themselves. Below the catwalk, the transparisteel was blacked out to obscure the large testing chamber. They wouldn't want to spoil the surprise after all.

"Loske and Maynard, we meet again," she called to them, crimson light igniting into existence with a snap-hiss. She brought her weapon up, amber eyes gleaming with delight.
 

Equipment: Hel's Lightclub | Robes
Objective: Engage the Sith | Judgment Time
Targets: Ulrich Ulrich
Enemies: TSE | TSE Allies
Allies: Ashlan Crusade | Ashlan Crusade Allies
Ugoo2lf.png

The wild slash for the beast's gut struck true, slicing through ceremonial metals and hardened scales into soft flesh. A smile crept across the hybrid's face, the blood of her certainly broken nose staining her teeth and gums in crimson. Ignoring the iron taste, confidence surged inside her chest, and she motioned her arms and hands immediately after to perform a diagonal cut higher up the monstrous chest of this most terrible foe. Hoping to perhaps cut open his heart and end the fight before it could truly begin. If that could happen, maybe she could use it to add to her list of accomplishments in the Order beyond saving the live of Viers Connory Viers Connory , an already stupendous achievement in her book considering her...rather long list of failures.

Unfortunately, that did not occur, as the beast was equally as quick to avoid such a fate. Utilizing its gigantic weapon to propel itself to the right of the hybrid, the beast effortlessly dodged her strike and left her killing nothing but soot and air. The hybrid growled and swung to face the beast, who was now some yards away. She intended to charge as she had to start the bout, but...something happened then that she should have expected from a dragon-esque beast such as this.

Within those seconds of directional changing, the beast had seemingly managed to gather enough energy within itself to unleash a torrent of flames that spewed forth from its gaping maw. The hybrid gasped as the fires raced across the street toward her, screaming and hissing as the air around them burnt alive within their grasp. There was little time to react in the way of dodging. She was much to big to be able to safely dodge such a wide dispersal of flames like that, and even if she was smaller, she could not trust herself to be dexterous enough. Instead, she looked around for a fraction of a moment, panic swelling within her throat, her mouth drying as the air in the ruins of New Adasta became coated in Dragon Fire. There was only one thing that caught her eye in that millisecond, and it was what had to do.

With the quickest pull of the Force that she had ever performed in her life, Mrurh'en'lase lassoed the bent wing of the shuttle that had crashed into the building and set it in front of her. Right on time, in fact, as the flames immediately blasted against it and pushed it back against her left arm that shot up to brace for the impact. The flames seemed endless then, the torrential waves of a fiery tsunami never ceasing in their crashing upon the metallic shore, which began to turn red and orange from the unceasing heat. Mrurh'en'lase screamed in pain from her flesh being cooked against the metal, and yet still heaved with effort to keep the flames back and to hold her ground, which seemed uncertain even with her uncanny stability to maintain her stance. Her feet dug into the street beneath her, the leather of her shoes tearing from the rubble to pierced through it and into her skin with sharp edges, bringing even more of her blood to sate the darkness of the his world. Her grip on the Lightsaber in her right hand weakened and became wobbly, the hilt teetering on the edge of being dropped. This seemed, to her, to be the end.


And then, something horrific and inexplicable happened. It was only small spots at first, like a rash or a small burn, but quickly spread out from her forearm up to her fingertips and down to her shoulder. White-orange cracks - fissures really - began to agonizingly split her flesh, almost as deep as the bone, and her skin itself began to shift into a molten volcanic ruby. Mrurh'en'lase stared in shock at the sight after almost passing out from the sheer pain of this development, unaware of the looming threat that had already neared her, encroaching on the orders of some necromancer lost to her knowledge. Her chest heaved as that shock was replaced by true terror at this unknown, and a scream escaped her lips. It was shrill and almost wolf-like in its pitch and length, and could likely be heard by anyone in the near vicinity. As she screamed, her vision blurred around the edges, and her head throbbed with agony as blood pulsed through her constricting veins like knives. This was the end - it had to be - and the hybrid was ready to accept that. Just another failure, except she wouldn't have to live with this one.

STRENGTH.png

Until, suddenly, her senses returned and she craned her head to the left just as this new threat neared her. They were horrific things, just like the beast spewing flames. Undead, burning, and shadowed. Whether out of fear, anger, or instinct, the hybrid shoved the metal shield forward against the flames with her molten arm - ignorant of the immense speed at which it was launched - and swung her body to meet these new foes. One, its armor and allegiance beyond recognition, reached for her with a snarl and outstretched hands, causing Mrurh'en'lase to reflexively hit the thrall on the side of its face with her wounded ligament. The pain, which had numbed the second the metal shield had been shunted away, soared through her body as the thrall flew back with such force that it crushed the body of another that it crashed into.

With a building pool of torment, the hybrid screamed away the agony and moved forward to bring her weapon down upon all of these undead horrors with a speed and ferocity she had not displayed since the first invasion of Ziost against Laertia Io. One handed, Mrurh'en'lase cut through the creatures one by one, severing heads and skewering torsos like they were made of parchment paper and ash. From time to time in this slaughter, the hybrid would instinctively use her left arm, sundering the horrors with baffling new power and unbearable suffering and affliction - tearing heads from bodies with charred spines still attached and ripping in twain legs or waists. Finally, when enough had been removed for her to return her attention to her primary foe, the hybrid's eyes flashed as bright as a red giant star.

And she charged once more, twirling her blade like a rotary and uttering an amazonian challenge to fight. When she reached the threshold of no return, Mrurh'en'lase would leap forward into the air and - if she had managed to avoid any defensive strikes from the beast - would bring her weapon down towards her foe's skull in a powerful downward strike.

 
Objective I: Judgement Day
Gear: Armor | Lightsaber | Shoto
Tags: Felix Aquila Felix Aquila

“I'd love to see a filthy nobody kid like you try and move me."

Starlin’s grin widened, letting loose a whooping laugh. Rather than being frightened or put off by Aquila’s display of indignation, he was delighted by it. Sweeping his gaze over the snobbish nobleman’s form, he smirked.

You look like you could use the exercise.

Despite his humor, he wanted to get this over with quickly. He closed the distance by flying at Aquila, aiming a slash across the kid’s wrists with his shoto, his lightsaber following soon after as he attempted to literally disarm his opponent before the fight could even truly begin.
 

dSHdBBp.png

IX
GALIDRAANI FREE-STATE
BLUE-HEART BRIGADE


KILL THEM ALL AND LET GOD SORT THEM OUT

OBJECTIVE 1: JUDGEMENT DAY
ZIOST, 865 ABY

Commonwealth Forces
: Amadeus Blackwood Amadeus Blackwood

Allies (NIO): Noel Strasza Noel Strasza Julian Qar Julian Qar Kolson Vrask Kolson Vrask

Allies (AC/GA/FO/SJC): Cedric Grayson Cedric Grayson Geiseric Geiseric Sephi Karneh Sephi Karneh Pietro Demici Pietro Demici Isla Draellix-Kobitana Isla Draellix-Kobitana
Zark San Tekka Zark San Tekka Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze Mrurh'en'lase | Hel Mrurh'en'lase | Hel Ishida Ashina Ishida Ashina Aaran Tafo Aaran Tafo Starlin Rand Starlin Rand

Enemies (TSE/CIS/EE): Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim N Nyxeris Laertia Io Laertia Io D Darth Malus SF-3335 SF-3335
The Battalion The Battalion Eva Betrik Eva Betrik Ulrich Ulrich

Lord Erskine's Loadout (Wielded By Lance-Corporal Yorunarr)
Primary: Custom Blaster-Pistol (Right-hip Holster - left-or-right hand draw)
Secondary: Basket-Hilted Vibrosword Claymore (Left-hip Sheathe - right hand wielding)
Last Ditch/Second-Blade: Myles' Fairbairn Vibroknife (Right-hip Sheathe - right-or-left hand wielding)

Pocket-Weapons: Berach's Brass Knuckles (Both Trouser-Pockets - akimbo wielding)

Blue-Heart Brigade (Mechanized-Infantry)
209 Cataphract Tanks (-5)
21 AFVs (-9)
6 ACVs

1 Battalion of Riflemen
1 Company of Combat-Engineers

1 Company of Elite Combat-Medics

uCT7JTr.png

uCT7JTr.png

COMETS COLLIDE 1 - THE POMMEL-STRIKE FROM HELL


Sb5Ljm3.jpg

02:51:23 Elapsed

As Hazel talked him through the procedure, and what to expect, Yorunarr was already immersing himself in the flow of meditative focus, taking on the information and understanding he already possessed the tools he needed to withstand the rushing sensation in the heart; what was expected to happen next would remain obscure to the Novanian Lance-Corporal until the need for heartrate control had run it's course, though his expectations were brought to disappointing heights when he saw the size of the dose he was receiving. Knowing from the moment the medically-authorized solution was administered that the substance was akin to a pure steroid stimulant, Yorunarr would snarl at nobody in particular, irritated by the fact such substances almost always silenced the voices of the faces behind the skulls in his mind, a telling sign of how delicate the psychedelic grain was when such substances went against it.

9fvy05U.jpg
I like this, I - really like this! But my day has been ruined by it already.... The curse of straying from the path of my ancestors, in real-time.

With deep inhalations through the nostrils, the long, satisfying exhalations could be felt giving rhythm to his briefly quickening heart; opening his mind in ways he never knew possible, like it had become a well-oiled, freshly-manufactured feat of engineering wonder. Adding to the surprise was when the young Lance-Corporal stood up to allow for larger intakes of air, as the sheer strength of the substance meant he could feel the air intake strengthening his muscles and tightening all the elasticity that would speed and add further force to his strikes and agility in general, and whatever Yorunarr was feeling in that moment, it cannot have been far from the realm of the ecstatic. However, with all his means of centering himself in perfect, individuated earnest, it wouldn't be long before the residues (of those rushes from before) gave way for the purity of the experience, and adding to the easing process was the calming, though worried attitude of the green-haired medic who wished to go with him.

'This is fine, just be sure to be as cautious as possible. I do not think Julian would like me very much if I put you at risk in the process, so I must remind you to run if I confirm it to be a Darth.... Anyway, follow me - and try to keep up.'

Running out to scour the surrounding areas for signs of Julian's fight, it didn't take long for them to find the trail of destruction left behind, like breadcrumbs leading to the ultraviolence; from there, both Hazel and Yorunarr would make off at a sprint, through the Novanian would quickly dart off ahead with Barran's Vibrosword drawn. Despite this, it wouldn't be long before they found Julian being choked by Darth Malus, but someone else was there, growling,'Get your fethin' hands off of our medic, you Sith bastard!', with a rifle pointed right at the back of the Darth's head. It was Roland Thorne, in what might have been the most-precarious position of his life, and he seemed oblivious to how great the danger was, a testament to the bravery of Galidraani soldiers in the face of frighting power. But seeing this gave Yorunarr no other option but to push Hazel in the other direction, glaring with a toothy snarl in warning against defying his wishes before turning back to the increasingly-desperate position transpiring before his very eyes.

'Again, I apologise. But please, do it for Julian if you won't run for me.... Thank you, for helping me.'

Kneeling low with a near-feline poise, the young Novanian grabbed the basket-hilted grip with both hands, intending to strike once and throw all his mass, his force, and the momentum gained in his peripherally-angular attack. Then, kicking up dust from his starting position, Yorunarr charged on Darth Malus with everything he had, keeping his head as low as possible so as not to be noticed until the very last instance; Thorne had initially thought it to be another assailant, and turned to fire, only to find a wild-eyed Novanian closing the distance on the Sith in front of him. With enough time to mutter,'My turn.', before impact, Barran's bodyguard had positioned himself perfectly to strike at the perfect moment, throwing everything into a pommel-strike as he aimed behind Malus' left ear. With guard low until the very instant to strike had presented itself, Yorunarr would see Malus instinctively turning into the blow to see who was on his left side, smiling as the pommel-strike met it's end impacting the temple; a perfectly-timed knockout blow for most, but whether it would keep Malus down for a while was up for debate.

'There is more of that waiting for you when you snap out of it, much more!'

Seeing the Darth letting go of Julian's throat was one thing, but to see him swaying from the blow was an insight all unto itself, but time was much too heavily stacked against Julian's saviours to ponder on the merits of blunt-force application, so Yorunarr quickly used the lull in hostilities to lift Qar from the ground and hurl him over Thorne's shoulder. Then, as he met Roland's handshake in the middle, the Novanian winked with reassurance that he was right where he needed to be, muttering,'Your men are needed at the north wall, sir. But please, take him to safety and leave this freak to me.', as he rounded on his foe who was stirring from the resulting unconscious stupor. Groaning in the rising motion with a haematoma growing on the frontal left side of his head, Malus was looking like quite the sorry sight already, gifting the agility (and countering-) advantage to Yorunarr without evening throwing a single attack or parry to stop it from happening, the mother of all cheapshots for the greatest of foes.

'I will enjoy dancing in circles around your bloodied corpse, friend. It's been a while since I last prayed for a good Rain-Season!'
5FAuOPz.png

COMETS COLLIDE 2 - OH DEAR, HOW SAD, NEVER MIND

'Oh, well of course Laertia has air-support and tanks too! Of coooourse! How could I not have factored in the low risks of aircraft assaults? Could it be that all the targets on the ground are going to be too mobile? Probably, and what of these tanks o' yours? Are they quick enough to give chase, probably not, but a man can still hope.... Seriously, Laertia. We're playing strategic chess here, not checkers! If I'm not factoring it, chances are that it's easily worked around - stop getting complacent, start taking advice.'

Disappointed, though not half as much as he was in the Amalgam's stunt on Serenno, the Stormchaser was rolling his eyes in distaste, very much a mild reaction in comparison to those he offered the fourth-wall breaking foe before; though the part that irritated him the most in all of it, the one thing that added a rueful tone to his opening response, was the fact that neither Xiphos nor the Amalgam seemed to care for (or understand, for that matter) the concept of parley, as it may have saved them both from wasting so much of their resources on the traditional guile of the one man who kept at them all the way. From one battle to the next, the Blue-Hearts had proven themselves tough enough to strike out with the best mechanised units in the galaxy, and with each drill trained from direct battlefield experience, the time for Erskine's subordinates to prove their tactical brilliance had well-and-truly arrived.

'Don't get me wrong, your smile, the fact I'm alive and the activity of your witches had me worried for a second there, but there's some cunning officers in charge of the vehicular and infantry elements back there. And I'm not so sure they really are that badly affected by this onslaught, Xiphos. If your witches are only teleporting your,"Sons", then I'm sure the worst has already passed us.... You also want this second round badly, so I'll get to it. If we ever get to fight again, we fight with basket-hilted Vibroswords, with no shadows aiding your efforts either.'
5FAuOPz.png

COMETS COLLIDE 3 - RIDE THE WAVES

tZLfo1Q.jpg

Thorne's men had torn a bloody path through the compound, annihilating all who stood in their path until they found Proost's tanks, firing off high-explosive shells at the approaching TIEs and tanks alike. However, upon seeing the presence of a northbound Eclipse Company, the Archaisian laughed and shouted,'ALL CATAPHRACTS, THIS IS PROOST!!! GIVE THEM THE CARBONITE SHELLS!!! I DON'T CARE WHERE THEY IMPACT, EVERY LITTLE BOOST IS A BIG HELP TO OUR ADVANCE!!! WEAPONS FREE - FIRE, FIRE, FIRE!!!!', with more joy than most thought he was capable of expressing. After that, Captain Proost approached Thorne's subordinates and exclaimed,'Best to either hop aboard or climb atop these tanks behind me! Whatever works best for you, lads! We're making manoeuvres as soon as this barrage runs it's course, you ready for some karking bedlam?', as best as he could with the cacophony of the smoothbores firing off behind him.

'Abso-karking-lutely, sir! Whatever ideas you got brewin', we're one-'undred percent eager t'see them in action!'

Just as the Galidraani fellow stopped speaking, the Cataphracts idled and began to reload with armour-piercing shells, prompting the Archaisian to respond,'Then follow me, lads. You're fighting with a Pride of Men aside you today!', with a confident grin that exhibited just the slightest hint of soul-deep malice. Lifting his comm-device close to his mouth, Proost chortled again as he considered the destruction that was about to unfold as a result of his very eccentric battle-plan, looking out northward as the Cataphracts and AFVs fired everything they could in that direction, marvelling at the magnitude of the destruction the Blue-Hearts could inflict. As he snapped out of that awestruck trance, the Archaisian would turn back to the Eclipse Company non-coms and wink before clicking on his comm-device to growl,'First wave, this is Proost! You have your orders, get your arses to the Bastille! No turning back, no stopping for anyone! GOD SAVE GALIDRAAN!!!!'
 
Last edited:



jHiLsO.png


Objective: Judgement Day I
Tag: Starlin Rand Starlin Rand
Equipment:

Felix almost cooed at the remark, shrugging at his retort as if to say maybe...

But no Sooner than the child ignited his light-sabers, he had made the declaration to fight, had Felix known this person was a Jedi in any form he would have been all the more disappointed in the warmongering youth. But there were punishments to such things, as his lightsabers should have snapped to life with their usual hissing crackle, he would have seen nothing... heard the sound, sure, but no beams of plasmic radial light would eject brilliantly from the grips to the eyes of Starlin rand for a flicker of an instant as Felix arrested the emanation before enhancing the waves that ejected in a brilliant flash brighter than the nuclear sun above them. The flash of light would erupt brightly enough from his sabers that those within the building that watched on from the windows would cry out in pain as the sheer concentration of the flash burned into their eyes, deflected only to some extent by the reflective surfaces of the windows they peered through.

The light would break for Felix, appearing as little more than a distant star in the form of a blade, but the world around him shone white at the flash hoping to catch the Jedi by surprise at the sudden attack on his senses as Felix intended to counterattack long before he would have hoped to make the charge and swing. Should the blinding light hit the boys' eyes, it was concentrated enough to fry him to the retina, leaving him flash blind for days on a direct hit. Closing his eyes with that thin layer of skin and tissue would surely shield the brunt of it, but human skin was only so thick and such a concentrated blast would find its way through to still scorch his Corneas causing excruciating pain unless he could put a better shield between his own sabers and his eyes.

Whether the flash caught his opponent or not, Felix would see a chance. Along his gauntleted thunder-birds Talon the brilliant marmalade energy shield would generate in a brilliant kite glistening with crimson cut hexes, layered over-top one another in thin ephemeral sheets. His golden saber would to roar to life in his right hand simultaneously as Felix would charge, thundering two steps closer in his light armour while he would intend to slam the full force of his shield into the chest of his opponent. Should he impact, the force of the blow would break the outermost layer of the CROSS field like crystal, causing the unstable energy to deflect outwards towards his opponent in a repulsing blast as the reactive armour would trigger intending to launch him violently backwards. His Thunderbird talon's repulses had the strength to deflect and repel the swing of a Brynadul, casting this child across the earth in a brutal show of force was well within its capability.

A flourish of his blade, no longer than a shortsword in a duelists' salute, and the Knight Obsidian, sword and shield at the ready was prepared to fight. His lips curled into a wicked smirk, hiding the biting "Honestly, you'd be lucky if you warmed me up..."

Felix would take up his fighting stance, outstretching his weapon arm towards his opponent to its full length, like one would wield a fencing foil. Pointed to his chest, Starlin would have to find a way around it, or knock the blade to a side if he wanted to get in close enough range to strike at Felix's body. A simple enough maneuver, but one that posed a problem for any duelist. Does one try to dodge the blade, and move in to strike? Doing so would risk the opponent simply bringing the weapon down onto an exposed part long before your strike would land. But to swat at and attempt to knock the weapon aside was far worse, displacing your weapon as it would only take the flick of a wrist and a step as his weapon would evade the attempted swing and plunge with its thrust towards the opponent who had broken their guard.
 

mJ7pG0b.jpg
ZO1.png

G R U N G E
IMPERIAL MILITARY ASSISTANCE GROUP
EMBEDDED WITH | 1st BATTALION 506th INFANTRY REGIMENT
JUDGEMENT DAY
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
Defiant Pattern APCU (Ashla Armed Forces) | SRK-65 Service Rifle | DSP-61x Hybrid Pistol | Cradle | Grenades

N5cG5gd.png

PBudK6O.jpg


FEVER
ZIOST '65

It was a gamble, a gamble with his life. But that had been every day here in the sh*t, as a Storm Commando. He turned and reached back to take ahold of the helmet. The mere squeeze of his muscles into the composite of the armor strained the wound on his shoulder. It wasn't a kinetic round and didn't blast past the armor at all, but the shock absorption of the APCU's plate only proved so competent at taking the sniper round. It was an injury he could 'walk off' , but the rest of the day fighting here would become just that much harder.

He took the helmet into his hands, the iron sun stencil imprinted on the composite already worn and scratched with shrapnel awash against the metal pot. He turned it in his hands, pulling it unto his head once more, his face already drenched in sweat and powdered with the urban dust of the surrounding battleground.

He glanced to the large broken sheet of intact glasteel, his reflection only barely visible through the dust and ash. In it, a projection from the past. Kolson, 'Fracture' pattern camo on his recruit fatigues, covered in the mud and dirt of Adumar. That soft, helpless face in the midst of shock and exhaustion. And him now, the hardened killer. It was only six years in the making to break down and kill Kolson Vrask to bring about Grunge.

There was no divergent dynamic between them, merely two names. Kolson Vrask was a lost son of a rebel from Lothal, helpless in the storm of chaos around him. Now? To an individual level, he was a dangerous man. Lethal. One of the best.

It was a duality of then to now. How much he relied on others then to how much others relied on him now. And he had to make due on his promise. As much as he might've wanted to lead these troopers deeper into the fire, he couldn't without her. Else he would have been truly alone. He had an obligation to lead all of them as much as he had an obligation to protect her. Beyond the obligations of the mission, to ensure all New Imperial assets remained safe and intact from this engagement but all the same- it would have been the ultimate failure, to let one of his squad mates fall when he was no where to save thm.

He cradled his rifle again, making through the rubble and ruin back to the bombed out building being used as the makeshift medical post. Hardly. Strewn bacta and stim injectors, turniquettes, bandages. It was a grisly sight.

He stopped a few feet away from that gruesome procedure. He heard the cries of pain muffled.

<"She'll be okay, Commander...we think.">

<"What do you mean you think?">

<"It rattled around internally, could've done some real damage but- she's awake and stable.">
The muffled screams of pain certainly gave that away.

<"Wh-"> He wanted to speak up again in urgent agitation before indirect fire plummeted into the earth near to them.

He muttered low curses to himself before looking back toward the battle space around him.

The Ashlan and Imperials were gaining the advantage- but this was New Adasta. The day's hardest fighting was no where close to done.

ALLIES | AC | NIO | Sephi Karneh Sephi Karneh | DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran | Julian Qar Julian Qar | Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze
ENEMIES | TSE | OPEN FOR SMOKE | N Nyxeris | Laertia Io Laertia Io
 


ZO1.png

MOSHED-2021-6-4-19-27-17.jpg

N O V A
IMPERIAL MILITARY ASSISTANCE GROUP;
ASSIGNED TO | 1st BATTALION 506th INFANTRY REGIMENT, ASHLAN CRUSADE
NEW IMPERIAL "DOGS"
ARMOR PRIMARY MAGCANNON GRENADES MELEE
N5cG5gd.png

TKj5mJA.jpg

S U R V I V E
NEW ADASTA
JUDGMENT DAY

The rolled bandages stuffed into her mouth did very little to muffle the animalistic shrieks that left her as the combat medic did exactly what he had grimly stated he had to, plunging forceps into a deep wound to find the remnants of the round that had stamped its mark in her flesh. Fingers curled into the debris by her side, gripping at it as the tension in her body peaked, erupting with a fire she had not felt before. It felt like the entire world was crashing down on her, and it never seemed to end. Pressure welled in her chest, threatening her unhinged breaths. Sweat soaked her hair and dripped by her ears, trailing to stain the ground more than her blood already had managed to.

When would it end? She didn't know, and the answer in partial was terrifying because of that. It was all she could do to squeeze her eyes shut until she saw white, and focus on staying still despite the agony tearing through her.

"I've got it!"
The medic declared, retracting his tool, the end of which was occupied with blood-stained brass. Despite this, no relief came to her. Emeralds flashed open, glaring wildly at the foreign object that had caused it all. Bloody hands plucked the gag from her dry mouth, leaving her to finally gasp and pant for breath properly in some attempt to catch up to it. "You're still awake, good. I can take it from here. You're gonna be just fine, Nova." The medic's words of reassurance did nothing of the sort for her. What good was she to any of them wounded?

"W-where's Grunge?"
She asked, shivering severely.

"He's fine, he's here."
The medic reassured as his impromptu assistant moved to speak with their commander directly. He busied himself with patching her wound, injecting another heavy-handed round of bacta into it directly to serve as a coagulating agent and to combat infection. "I'm glad you're stable, but you can't stay here. We can't stay here."

Dust shuddered from the ceiling above with the sudden impact of heavy fire. Underneath her, she felt the ground trembling again. The fighting was getting close, once more. That ebb and flow. The tide was rising and they were out too far from shore, this time, to be able to survive it. Nova nodded, grasping the medic's shoulder and aiming to sit upright, only to be met by another agonizing wave that earned a sharp, hissing curse in response. "Let's m-move, then." She struggled to steady her tone and reel her words under control, summoning up whatever shred of bearing she still had left at the epicenter of her suffering.

"This should help."
The medic remarked as he plunged another injector into the outside of her thigh. "Let's get you on your feet."

A surge of high dosage stimulants flooded the combat engineer's veins, drowning her pain and revitalizing her energy. The effects were not entirely unfamiliar to her, and she welcomed their swiftness, appreciating the gesture. Once she managed to get back onto her feet, leaning on the medic for support at first, she reached up to wipe the blood from her chin, smearing it off her jaw with an annoyed curl of her lip. Her helmet thudded back onto its seat, and her rifle found her hands yet again.

Straightening herself up to spite her pain, the engineer fixed her stony gaze on Kolson: <"Orders, sir?">

Sephi didn't need to ask, she already knew his answer.

Break time was over.

Now it was time to get back to work.​


ALLIES | NIO | AC |
Kolson Vrask Kolson Vrask Zark San Tekka Zark San Tekka DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran Ishida Ashina Ishida Ashina
ENEMIES | TSE | N Nyxeris Laertia Io Laertia Io | OPEN FOR DIRECT ENGAGEMENT
 
Handsome blindfolded hyper-religious whackjob

His gaze flicked over to the larger man as they began speaking. The slightest, most miniscule tensing of the Jedi's own muscles hopefully enough to deter any potential violence. "I'm a religious lunatic remember." He reasoned out, playing on the Trooper's own bias and previous notions. "I don’t follow logic, reason or order according to you. So, I can be kind for the simple sake of being kind without getting anything out of it."

"Bizarre as it may be. That's my reasoning. You don’t offer much in terms of information. You're not some crack elite squad. But I'm making the offer because I believe it is the right thing to do."
It really was as simple as that. Politics, military advantages. All of them fell to the wayside for the sake of simple compassion and empathy for his fellow sentients. He'd rather expend the finite and material influence and power he has in order to try and preserve something far more precious. Choice and Life.

That said, Karalensky's own reasoning was useful. It did go a long way towards providing him context to how the average citizen saw their Empire. Harsh, but one that ultimately provided for them. "I'm glad to hear she did so well for herself." He said, somehow again sounding sincere. Somehow genuinely happy that someone he did not know or was ever likely to know had succeeded and achieved their dreams.

"I won’t deny that the Empire can do well by some of their citizens. But I've found more often than not, the innocents tend to be the first to suffer once things stop going their way." His voice kept that same gentle tone. "It was not the Galactic Alliance that burned this city to the ground. But one of your own." He explained, recalling the distant reports of the madness of the Graug descending upon any who stood in their way.

"And later, when the fight kept going for weeks afterwards. They decided to abandon any of their own who might still be in the city, crashing their own cruiser into it." He shook his head, recalling the chilling feeling of such a senseless loss of life crawling up his spine. "Hell, even on Serenno. They started carpet bombing the city indiscriminately as soon as the fighting turned against them."

He placed his hand against his own chest. "Believe me. I get it. Your family was taken care of. I'm happy they were. But the way things are going now. Your sister, your father. They'll be abandoned while the higher ups flee to save their own skins."

"If nothing else, I'd advise you to get your sister off Dromund Kaas soon. Take her to the Core. We've got procedures and plans in place for accepting people fleeing from the Sith and the Bryn. You have my word she'll be taken care of."


His gaze then flicked to Evalina. The name Viers registering somewhere in his memory. One of Dagon's friends. A regular at the Enclave on Jakku. Someone who had a rather low view of the New Jedi Order despite never really talking to many other members aside from one.

Funny how the Sith were quick to claim that they were not all alike. Yet the Jedi did not have the luxury. Where the acts of individuals meant that all of them were bad.

"Her name is familiar. She's friends with one of my students." He said, nodding once in response to her words. "And your assistance is appreciated." His gaze flicked back over to Karalensky. "If you want, we can say I gave you an offer thanks to this act of mercy." Maybe that would appease the larger man's notion that Aaran was trying to get something out of this arrangement.

But there was still a problem. Evalina had just outed herself as a traitor. Aiding and rescuing an enemy combatant was probably against her combat doctrine. A Jedi like himself would get away with it. Typically, by citing that continued acts of callousness and ignoring the suffering of others would quite literally turn him into a sociopathic monster. His gaze flicked back to her squad, before finally settling back to the Corporal herself.

"I don’t have the means to capture all of you." He said, head tilting to the side. "I'm sure as hell not going to kill you because you said no. But I would ask that you stay out of the fighting from here on out. I can fix up your friends for you." He mused, discarding any notion that these soldiers had to choose between submission or death. Whatever the result was, he would make certain they kept their dignity.

But he did offer out a hand to Eva. "But you put yourself in a rather tricky position." He said, the open hand clearly a gesture, an offer for her to join him. "Now if you trust your squad to keep quiet, alright. I'll respect that. But know that I won’t be able to do much to help you if you walk away."

And there it was, the final offer being left on the table. Right now, she was balanced on the knife's edge. Go with this oddly placid and serene Jedi. To seemingly guaranteed safety, or at least knowing she'd have a rather powerful ally watching her back. Or she could take her chances. Hoping that no one rats her out. Or that no one else had noticed her rescue of Viers.
 
Last edited:
"Oh, you'd be absolutely right if the teleporting was my only plan...but see, I prepared quite some time for the invasion. Even all the way up to a few hours before you made planet fall I was hard at work with the Amalgam's Witches." Xiphos said, taking another sip.

"You see...the ground your entire mechanized units are on? Multiple surprises. Nothing fancy...basically one or three curses laid down over and over, then exponentially multiplied in strength...you've proven time and again you're good at countering fancy. So we went for basically the magical version of low-tech guerilla warfare...and you're forgetting all the pissed off Legionnaires I'm working with...you think I didn't put a few enchantments on them also? And those buildings you blasted to rubble as you entered that area...you think I didn't have the foresight to do things to them also?"

At the Site where the Blue Hearts fought, a terrible battle was being waged.

The Officers were very good with their vibro-swords, but the problem was, they had to get it right against a Model 1 on the first go. Because all it took was one mistake and a Model 1 would John Rambo their ass. And with each officer slain, The Model 1 learned more and more about how other officers fought, and became more efficient at over coming their fighting style...and if that didn't work, they could just breathe fire on them, or hit them with bio-assault sprayers built into their chest. More than a few officers won their duels, but the cost and effort to Destroy a Model 1 that had killed Multiple people and learned from each kill made it a nasty, time consuming process that wasn't paying dividends, and the continuous sound cannons of the Model 2's were devastating the regular infantry ranks, shredded by their arm mounted Rotary cannons. They tried to take advantage of their mobility but the Witches began summoning terrible Lightning strikes down on the Units that had had the best numbers and largest chance of retaliating successfully. A few Nuetralizers that had been teleported behind the wall rapidly, mercilessly started to slaughter enemy personnel, others seizing a few AFV'S and firing them into NIO infantry or other AFV's that they had not stolen.

That's when the Nuetralizers pulled their first card.

Massive, Massive detonations went off on one side of the perimeter being fought. The blast was powerful enough that it could be seen from where they were both sitting, creating a wall of debris cloud that loomed, flipping Multiple Cataphracts over, and crushing whoever was unlucky enough to be nearby.

The blast in of itself however, hadn't really done all that much damage to the Blue Hearts. That's because it wasn't supposed to. It's main purpose was to create a massive gap, a giant moat, basically that his armored units could not retreat through, forcing them to divert course or stay in place. The Lightning strikes from the Witches came down constantly, in addition to the terrible rainstorm of Laser fire.

The Witches let loose their first curse while the Nuetralizers brought their Century tanks into rows, firing in a random, staccato pattern into the disrupted armored units, The Witches used the Lightning strikes to help coordinate fire and target Cataphracts and the units defending them. The death toll for the Blue Hearts began to sky rocket. They really were in danger, real danger. This was among the most savage, merciless fighting many had seen up to that point, and only their discipline and will to fight kept them fighting desperately through.

Then the first curse took effect.

Large sections of the ground became thick and muddy like quicksand...except tendrils of it lashed out at infantry men and Cataphracts and other armored vehicles, and only by gunning the engines to max or by just shooting the tendrils as fast as possible were they able to escape. Many however, could not, the quicksand ground gunking up their engines or weapons, leaving them struggling to escape, getting fried by sky lightning or shot up by Disruptor armed Nuetralizers, utterly hell-bent on killing as many Blue Hearts as possible, even as their own dead piled up from the Desperate aggression of Officers and infantry men now hemmed in on all sides, the constant flashes of lightning in such condensed spots close by threatening to render them blind from the display. Screaming was heard every where, virtually every infantry man now shooting in every direction that didn't have a friendly in it, the resurrection wave started by The Battalion hitting just then, making massive numbers of slain Blue Hearts rise and begin mindlessly attacking their former comrades, forcing the Galidraan reinforcements to put down their own when possible, because when it wasn't zombies attacking, it was Nuetralizers, all while struggling the quicksand that had already grounded multiple vehicles.

The Model 2's were shown zero quarter, and showed none in turn, using the attached axe head on their cannons to brutally hack apart the ones trapped in the magically created muck, while being careful not to step in it themselves.

The second curse was unleashed.

The building Barran had ordered blasted apart earlier had been magically booby-trapped.

The large pieces floated up, enchanted by the Bogan. They began to swirl around breaking up into ever smaller parts, not so much to injure, but to start swirling around the largest Concentration of enemy soldiers to obscure their vision, which was potentially lethal in this situation. Many Blue Hearts units had managed to remain mobile in spite of one of the most absolutely murderous onslaughts they had ever been subjected to and though they were fighting valiantly, killing scores of Model 2's, the Model 2's just kept coming and the Century Tanks moved ever closer focusing patiently on the more damaged Armored units. Two of the tanks were exploded by desperate NIO Cataphract fire but then they themselves were killed by the MZ-8 Tanks who then resumed their pounding fire on the wall, the slaughter taking place there by the Model 1 units that had been teleported there truly a sight to behold... But the ground slaughter was madness personified.

As all of this was going on Xiphos took another sip.

"You really want a rematch, huh? You couldn't beat me when I cast aside my connection to the Force, my armor, and primary weapon. Now you want to go at me full power? Okay. You're on."

She took another sip.

"The shadows were not your failing that day on Vjun."
 
ZO1.png

Location: Ziost, New Adasta
Allies: TSE
Foes: AC | GA | NIO | Ishida Ashina Ishida Ashina | Aaran Tafo Aaran Tafo

Aaran was right, of course; the SICA squad didn't know anything of any value. Eva had arrived at that conclusion several deployments back. Militiamen like her were expected to die or be captured with clockwork regularity, so it was not only pointless to give them any tactical information, but actively dangerous. They were auxiliaries, not official Legion troops, so they were seldom part of any complicated maneuvers anyway. They were given simple tasks: support this advance. Sabotage this target. Hold these defenses. Or, in this case, eliminate any Jedi you encounter. Only that one hadn't turned out to be so simple, Eva thought, with a bitter little chuckle.

It would be easy, so easy, to just discard everything the Jedi was claiming about Sith war crimes. Sith-Imperial state media had reported all of these events much differently than Aaran, and that was the only information source available within the Empire's tightly controlled borders, aside from word of mouth. Grim but patriotic newscasters had reported the catastrophic loss of life on Serenno and on Ziost, the bones of which were even now beneath their feet, but they'd placed all those deaths at the feet of the invaders. After all, if there hadn't been an attack on the Empire's sovereign territory, none of those people would've been killed.

Any mention of an Imperial role in killing Imperial citizens had been carefully sanitized.

Karalensky actively scoffed, and Eva was tempted to join him... but she knew better by now. She'd helped to blow up civilian transportation infrastructure on Muunilist to prevent the Empire's enemies from escaping. On Vjun, she'd watched as they blew Bast Castle sky high to deny it to the enemy, killing countless soldiers on both sides. On Krayiss II, she had nearly been torn apart by the sadistic ghosts of ancient Sith, a fate that many others in the temple-library had suffered. People like Karalensky - like her - had only ever been shown the benefits of the Empire. She was starting to see the costs, the blood and cruelty that preserved order and prosperity.

Eva had always believed that Quinn had died doing the right thing. Doubting that hurt.

Karalensky wasn't budging. He'd been trained to disbelieve anything told to him by an enemy combatant, and he'd learned that lesson well; SICA troopers spent as much time on discipline and indoctrination in their brief training as they did on weapon drills and combat skills. Eva was sure that Lebedev and the Sergeant would go the same way. None of them had seen what she'd seen, had been on four different worlds under siege to see how the Sith-Imperials waged war. She'd accepted early on that she had no value to the Empire as an individual, but she'd wanted to believe that was because the Emperor had to watch over the Empire as a whole.

She didn't want the Jedi to be telling the truth. She didn't want to imagine the Sith abandoning her family.

But Karalensky wouldn't believe that, and so she made her gamble: to mention Viers, dredging up her greatest ever betrayal of Sith military doctrine. The other troopers were still staring at her, judging her from behind their helmet visors. Eva's heart sank. She'd made a choice she could never take back... and she could only hope it'd be worth it. There was no guarantee of that. What if Aaran didn't even know who she was talking about, or didn't believe her? She would have admitted to treason in front of the people she was trying to save, people who would certainly report her despite her reasons. It was their duty, and they always did their duty.

They'd stuck by her after her interrogation by the Saaraishash, but in their minds, this proved they shouldn't have.

"Her name is familiar. She's friends with one of my students." Eva let out the breath she'd been holding, along with a silent prayer of thanks to Typhojem. Would it actually change what Aaran was willing to do? Maybe not; the Jedi had already seemed prepared to let them go. But this might make the rest of her squad actually believe it. If they fell back, keeping out of the fighting, they could get Lebedev and the Sergeant to a medic. Neither man was so badly injured that he couldn't pull through with decent medical aid. But Aaran recognized the dilemma she'd created for herself. "You put yourself in a rather tricky position." That was putting it mildly.

In that moment, the young corporal accepted that her SICA career was over. She could never go back; that would only result in a brutal, drawn-out interrogation followed by summary execution. "Go," she told Karalensky. "I'll... I'll get Lebedev." She wasn't sure what else to say. Karalensky took a few steps back, but went no further. He still didn't trust the Jedi, and he wasn't going to leave any trooper behind... a category that, in his eyes, no longer included Eva. That stung, and it would sting more later, when she fully absorbed that her last friends had written her off as a traitor. For now, she focused on her final gift to them: getting them out alive.

Eva turned back to the Jedi. "If you can fix Lebedev enough to move... and then let him go... I'll come with you."

Maybe the pale-haired Jedi woman would kill her as soon as she went with them. Maybe she'd still be interrogated by the Alliance's SIS, or turned over to the Ashlan fanatics. But if so, it wasn't a worse fate than what the Saaraishash would cook up for her now that she'd outed herself for a treasonous act. She had no idea what might await her. She'd be far from home, far from her mom and that little farmstead where she'd grown up, and shorn of the only purpose she'd ever had in her adult life. Maybe she could find something new. Maybe she could somehow get enough credits to get her mom somewhere safe, to start a new life in a peaceful place.

She would never know until she tried. Typhojem was watching; time for a leap of faith.
 
Handsome blindfolded hyper-religious whackjob

There was the slow release of a breath he barely realised he was holding when Evalina agreed to come with him. At least she was not submitting herself to the harsh punishments of the Sith. But he would make sure that she was treated fairly by the Alliance.

He also made a careful note to keep a close eye on Ishida. He'd probably have to give Evalina some communicator in case the Albino Padawan decided that her form of justice was greater than what the Alliance would dish out.

He idly wondered if he could get the Padawan to calm down by pointing out how her dogmatic approach to things was not too dissimilar to Laertia Io. Maybe it would spark some level of self-awareness. Maybe she'd refuse to see the similarities. But for now, it could wait. He had other priorities. Namely healing the arm he broken only a few minutes before.

"A moment then." He said, turning to face Lebedev. Staring down at the no doubt terrified soldier. His long legs taking him over to his side. One hand reaching out. The Jedi's mind attempting to reach out to their own.

"Be calm."

It was a simple command. One that was easy to follow. The pain of his arm would begin to fade. His muscles relaxing, the panic and adrenaline fading as the Jedi attempted to slowly lull his mind into a sense of complacency and calm. One where the outside world was a distant dream and nothing there could hurt him.

It was especially useful, because if he had felt the Jedi telekinetically move his broken arm back under his skin. He would probably be screaming in pain, and likely go into shock. Needless to say, a state similar to being doped out on painkillers was probably the preferable option. But keeping him calm and setting the bone was the easy part. The hard part came next.

He was never the best healer. He couldn’t hold a candle to Auteme and her expertise. But he did not have to completely cure here. He only had to get the bone strong enough so that he would not be hampered moving forward. Placing one hand on the broken skin. The Troopers present would once again be able to see something that defied belief.

Under his fingers, the skin of Lebedev began to glow with a faint, ethereal blue light. The life-giving energies of the Force flowing from Aaran and into someone who would normally be his sworn enemy. Coaxing and encouraging the body's healing process. Speeding up weeks of healing into a matter of seconds.

All Lebedev would be left with was a propound itching sensation, a rather tender arm that would still need to be looked at. As well as a voracious appetite. The Jedi having used some of the man's own internal energy to supplement his own in order to aid in the healing.

Standing back up, Aaran stumbled for a moment, drawing in a shaky breath as he seemed just a bit more unsteady on his feet than before. A slight sheen of sweat visible on his brow, his breathing somewhat laboured as he looked back to the squad. Lebedev still sitting there, somewhat dazed but rapidly coming back into focus.

He finally turned his attention to Eva. "Alright then. We should probably get going. You can fill me in on who else we need to pick up once we're out of the combat zone." He said, sparing one last glance at her squadmates. Curious as to if they were going to try and stop him.
 
dSHdBBp.png


Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim

They didn't agree, and likely never would. In times long since passed, during the height of his youth, Cedric might have entertained the empress' views. He had heard the tales of the Jedi simply being another side of the Sith's coin - it was a convenient scapegoat. A means to oversimplify the spiritual conflict and claim the moral high ground whilst taking no sides in it. Privately the exile balked at it, thought it to be ignorance at least and willful deceit at most. The forces of the Light had engaged in a handful of moments painted by barbarism, and were generally always punished for it. The Sith, on the other hand, made such things a way of life.

"I think that reducing the conflict to one of 'both sides are wrong' is reductive and ignores history Empress. The Sith have been the catalyst for the majority of galactic scale wars throughout recorded history. Eras of galactic peace have nearly only been maintained by the Jedi. To say that we are as corrupt as the monsters we face is more than a little unfair, it's a lie." He didn't intend to debate with her here, but keeping his thoughts to himself would have been maddening. "And yes, I would not hesitate to take the Galactic Alliance, the New Imperial Order, or the Silvers to the sword if they started governing tyrannically. My allegiance is to the Ashla and to her alone. Any mortal ties are secondary."

Reports from the eastern divisions confirmed that the route toward the outer edge of New Adasta was open. Cedric quietly gave the order to proceed as further reports from the west made it clear that the Bosph and Kobok divisions had reached their destinations. Soon, all of New Adasta would be encircled by the Ashlans, and the Sith within would find no respite save for the quiet of death as the proverbial noose tightened around their necks.

"I'm not blackmailing you Empress, I'm just telling you the truth. If you perceive that as a threat, then that is your choice. I won't apologize for my honesty," he would turn one final time from the burning city, eyes narrowed at the empress, his lips pressed into a small, albeit nearly warm smile. "That being said, you've made the right call. With the Eternal Empire removing itself from the conflict, I can possibly work on mending its reputation with my allies. Your cooperation will not go unnoticed, and I am glad that we could save the remnants of the city's population. They've suffered beneath the Sith jackboot for far too long."

A final pause.

"Our encirclement of the city is nearly completed. New Adasta will be ours in a matter of hours," the winds of the snowfall grew more fervent as Cedric spoke, forcing the exile to hold a hand over his eyes. "Will you return home?"
 
Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud, Leader of the Dawn of Hope
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group
ZO1.png
Objective: Protect the civilians and hospitals
Location: Tundra, outside New Adasta
Equipment: 2x Striith vibrosword | The Soulsabers | Brynja coat and hat | Hersir Imperial Uniform | G1 OmniLink | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland
Writing with: Cedric Grayson Cedric Grayson
dRUm20K.png
[ O Fortuna ]

Ingrid was of the same opinion that they would never agree, but that did not mean to the woman that they had to be enemies. She was flexible and so was the Eternal Empire in terms of who to work with. The woman’s view was the “fault” of Tacitus, who was the one who taught her that the both sides are equally bad, as the Force only plays with them, uses them, and this is not noticed by them. Only the Wardens see this. That is why they are the same, because they let them be controlled by the Force.

"Sooner or later, in an era of peace, corruption always appeared, allowing the Sith to rise again and again. Convenience, corruption, arrogance. History has always consisted of circles and cycles. And… I think the Jedi cannot exist without the Sith, just as the Sith cannot exist without the Jedi. It is an eternal dance that can be broken only in one way..."

The red-haired woman didn't want to argue either, but in the woman's eyes it was more of a conversation than an actual debate. That is why she said this completely calmly, without emotion. She had no intention of provoking Lord Grayson. She did not explain her words; it was entirely obvious that it can only break if there is no Force. The Empress had a feeling the man would come to that conclusion, too. Meanwhile, she looked at the city again, into the flames. The news arrived on the communication line that the front of the convoy had reached the city limits. She finally looked back when Cedric stated that he would be ready to attack either the NIO or the GA if they became a tyrant. Felt the man tell the truth and she finally looked into the man's eyes.

"Thank you for your honest answer, Mr. Grayson. So far, one person has earned my respect at this level with his actions or words. And he is Colonel Beltran Rarr Beltran Rarr from the Antaren Rangers. If I ever become a Sith or a tyrant, join him and kill me before I can harm my own people. Don't attack them, just hunt me down."

Despite her cold words, it was almost a request, somebody doesn’t often ask someone to kill them if they get lost or went astray. Ingrid did not want to harm her people and never wanted to be a tyrant. That's why she didn't want power either. And her words were honest, and now she let it be felt through the Force that she was sincere and that the request was as well.

"Ashla… allow me a question, Lord Grayson? I don’t know much about the old Je’daii times, but I read that according to their “religion,” Ashla embodies the Light Side, Bogan the Dark Side. Yet Je’daii sought balance. Why did you just choose Ashla?"

Asked; she really knew no more than that, she had never even read the Je’daii Code, but it was an interesting question for her. Ingrid shook her head gently at the next words. She sincerely appreciated that the man was straight and honest, she had no problem with it.

"Oh, I didn’t think it was a threat, but rather a warning. And don’t apologize for your honesty, I respect honest people. In today’s world, it’s refreshing to have a conversation with someone who is honest. Sometimes such conversation is more satisfying than the continuous shadow games."

A short but sincere smile appeared on her lips. She nodded, not knowing what fate awaited the Eternal Empire after that, and she really wanted neutrality, nothing more. She was really confident that this would be possible. The snow didn’t bother her, Ingrid came from an ice planet and still lived on a tundra planet, which was natural for her.

"I can’t yet, the fleet and army are going home, but I still have to travel to Dromund Kaas. I, too, are facing a war with the Sith, at the negotiating table, the termination of the treaty."

YbCOyAa.png

nBtOGGm.gif
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom