Invasion Look What You Made Me Do (TSE Invasion of NIO Held Borosk & Troska)

[Hailyn]

LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO

Location: HIMS Baneful
Objective: Make it planetside
Allies: The Sith Empire | AMCO , Kiber Dorn , Ingrid L'lerim
Enemies: New Imperial Order | Avernus , Atlas Kane
Equipment: Amphistaffs, Tsaisi, Saberstaff

For far too long the Sith Empire had tolerated their defectors, and for their tolerance they had paid dearly with the loss of territory in Mygeeto and Muunilist. For many in the Empire, those that had formed the New Imperial Order had been akin to wayward children, orphaned of an ideology they no longer believed in, but to the Empire itself they had turned themselves into an existential threat that fashioned them seemingly with a singular purpose in mind - to sack Bastion. The lenience of a sentimental Empire had allowed Mygeeto and Muunilist to suffer, to allow those that left to bite the hand that had fed them for so long. That leniency, following such betrayal, was no more.

Already forces from the Empire had mounted an effort to take the facility known as Cassel Point on the world below, on the world of Borosk, but they would not be alone. The HIMS Baneful ferried the reinforcements that were meant to aid them in their struggle, and standing in the hangar near the others was she - Darth Alekto. Amphistaffs, besides those that made up much of her "hair", were coiled around her body, and she held a tsaisi in one hand while her unlit saberstaff was clutched in the other. It would not be long now before they were to depart - or it wouldn't have been, if not for the sudden shuddering of the destroyer they stood on and the blaring of sirens as the lights flickered for a moment and then died.

Ion damage.

Though the ship would be up and running again soon enough, it didn't stop it from rocking yet again - this time with far more vigor - as something incredibly large must have collided with it. Serpentine eyes narrowed.

"Boarding party!" She shouted in warning, moments before the lights returned and their enemy brought the fight to them - to keep them from joining their allies below.

Sith Imperial Objectives​

1. Assault on Cassel Point -- The Cassel Point facility is a recently-constructed fortress on the world of Borosk, and has been identified by the Sith Imperial Foreign Intelligence Agency (SIFIA) as a strategic center for a NIO defence. Sith-Imperial forces will batter the facility while an infiltration team attempts to enter covertly. Your orders are to eliminate everyone inside, and take no prisoners. Once we have control of the facility, we will use the base’s hypervelocity cannon to fire on the New Imperial fleet above. (Note: This objective will start with Legion soldiers already on the ground and attacking the base.)
2. The Star Destroyer -- Breaking away from the lines of ships railing against the New Imperial Armada, the HIMS Baneful moves swiftly over the world of Borosk, hurrying to a firing position. To the keen observer, something seems strange about the reckless maneuver- Are the Sith that desperate to strike at Borosk’s defenses? In this objective, you will have to repel New Imperial boarders as they try to prevent whatever it is Sith-Imperial Command has planned.
3. Breaking the Lines -- The orders have come through, there will be no retreat at Borosk. The Empire will fight until the New Imperials are destroyed or there is no one left. Three Preventor II-class Interdictor Battlecruisers have entered the sector, accompanied by a handful of Incapacitator-class Interdictors. Together, they will prevent the New Imperials from retreating. With both forces stuck in-system, the Armada must throw everything they have at the enemy fleet. If they are defeated and the sector captured, the NIO drive towards Bastion will be thwarted. Sith-Imperial Command has advised the Armada to play dirty, sacrifice ships, and do anything in their power to destroy the enemy.

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

N E W _ I M P E R I A L _ O R D E R
W I L L _ O F _ D E F I A N C E​

T H I R D _ I M P E R I A L _ C I V I L _ W A R
S I E G E _ O F _ B O R O S K

// THE_BROKEN //: Anton Cassel // 908th Legion
// GARRISON COHESION //: Wavering
// OBJECTIVE //: Cassel Point | The Stronghold
// ALLIES | NIO //:

Spoiler: Tags

Agrippa
Hunter Blackburn
Ravraa Vyshraal
VK-118
Ryv
Loske Treicolt
Bernard of Arca
Aerith Castiella
Ursula Vizla
Vaeri

// ENEMIES | TSE //: Madelyn Lowe
Armor | Rifle | Pistol | Shovel

​

A N T O N _ C A S S E L
O U T _ O F _ T H E _ B L A C K

They weren't ready for any of this. They damn well should've been, but they weren't. The New Imperial High Command was far too concerned with pressing the advantage, thrusting the spear and while the defenses in the home front were stalwart, they couldn't sustain any concentrated assault while the combined task force of the New Imperial Order led by the Sovereign Imperator and his 501st Legion alongside the Galactic Alliance under the steady hand of Dracken Pryce carved through the Braxant Run. They couldn't sustain full capacity on the borderline while also maintaining the bulk needed for the push and thus, Cassel Point was left in the shadow. It'd sent a distress signal at the first sign of any Sith-Imperial arrival and reinforcements were certainly on the way.

But Cassel Point couldn't hold itself up for long. While the costly sieges of Mygeeto and Muunilinst had concluded, they were bled like the Order like a stuck pig of its war resources. Supplemented funding from the Trade Federation following their seizing and re-consolidation of the SIBC assets on the conquered worlds worked to force an IV drip into the ambitious Imperial government.

All the same, it was hammerfall on Borosk. The Sith came down in force. Fanatical and frothing with rage as they threw themselves at the fortress. On borrowed time, the officer charged with the defense of the main stronghold was in an hour of desperation. Treading the same path as his forefathers hundreds of years before far too closely. This might be it, the beginning and the end to a resurgance of a legacy muddied in the waters of Imperial infighting. In his brief grasp at redemption, he might very well be put down low all the same. Broken, beaten and slain as his forefathers were on these very same grounds by murderous marauders with the same hate, the same vitriol bubbling in their veins.

<"Ah- damnit..."> This section of the corridor within the main stronghold had seen an explosion cave in the fortified wall, pinning him underneath rubble on the other side. He felt fine, seizing the brief respite in the quiet from the blaster fire to feel for each of his limbs. All but his left arm were functional, the limb having been contorted and snapped out of place from a chunk of heavy metal pinning it against the wall. All the same, he was alive. He could feel a stinging injection of bacta past the numbness of the broken bone as he set unto his feet. Outnumbered, outgunned, Cassel Point could only hope to delay the inevitable to hold out long enough to be reinforced.

Even if armored elements were keeping the Sith at bay outside of the outer walls, ground was being lost on all sides. They needed the pendulum to swing in their favor if they were to avoid the fate of the first 908th. To be wiped out to the last man only for the Sith to revel in the carnage. Not today. Not again. Lifting the comlink attached to the vambrace on his working arm he spoke into it only for static and distortion to sound out in reply.

<"This is Base Command Vidage-Actual do I have a copy?"> Nothing. Drawing the pistol from his hip he scanned around the corridor of the fortress to catch his bearings. He needed to close the ground between himself and the Combat Information Center within the central stronghold. As far as he was aware, he was the best fit to take the reins of the Base's defense and hold back the tide.

Feeling heavy, tense breathes wash against the inside of his stormtrooper helmet, his sprinted down the hallway. The longer he took, the more men and women of the Order would perish. The more the guilt would weight down over him.

// IMPERATOR //: 501st Legion // Gladius Company
// OBJECTIVE //: Cassel Point | The Ramparts
// ALLIES | NIO //: Agrippa
// ENEMIES | TSE //: Kascalion Giedfield
Armor | Rifle | Pistol | Melee | Grenades

​

I R V E R I C _ T A V L A R
J A M B I

<"The designated landing zone is too hot, we can't set down on the Point."> The pilot sounded back through the comms to the crew cabin of the RDAGx where Tavlar surrounded by Gladius. They were almost to the point of a Penal Company but they were the attack dogs of the Order. When all readouts said they couldn't punch through the Sith-Imperial naval formations with little more than a squadron of gunships, nor risk diverting more from the Braxant Run, Irveric tapped Agrippa and his men for the mission. There was no better bet to place here. Back against the wall with a dagger twisting in their stomach to begin the fight, the circumstances couldn't be any worse or chaotic to set down in.

Good.

<"We're dropping in."> The Sovereign Imperator stated coldly, his voice distorted past the comms systems of his helmet. He didn't look all too different than any of the men surrounding him, markedly differnt in his pattern of armor and the stark darkness of its paint which flatly contrasted the visage of the skull marked over the side of his face marred and damaged from Mandalore. Beneath that guise, that mask, he was just the trooper. The weight of the war as a whole, the New Imperial Order withered into the primal authority which deemed the success and failure of all sentient civilization. He'd go into the field and there'd be men and women hellbent on snuffing him out and ending him where he stood. Punctuated so decadently with the glorious revelry they'd be privy to in its wake. He just had to be better.

Descending. Boots hit solid earth again, Irveric's helmet covered face awash with open air again as he stepped unto the ramparts of Cassel Point. Onecmore into the fire. Into the fray. There was a moment of deafness as he settled into the chaos. As his battle tested mind and body calcified its rational fear and reluctance into sheer will. When the gunship peeled away in his wake, reeling off a bundle of flares before silence enveloped in the air and the violent rip of the rotary cannons mounted to its chin fired out to assail an insignificant portion of the Sith assault, eventually veering out and away.

They were alone now. Fixed well within the marble jaws of oblivion, they'd have to crawl and rake their way out. They'd met resistance immediately as a band of Sith troopers who'd managed themselves unto the ramparts thrust forward in assault. A pulse of blaster bolts beat against his chest piece before he snuffed out the Legionnaire who willed it with a charric bolt to the neck, another to the chest and a final coup de grace into his stomach before he was collapsing unto the metal flooring with his blood curdled death throes. They were in it now. There was no going back now. It was victory or death.

Good.

<"Agrippa. Bridge contact with the Garrison command, Treicolt, any of them. We're dead men walking if we don't organize this mess."> The bulk of the 908th stationed here were green. Boys. They wouldn't survive this. Konrad Bolter had been relieved here from the front only to be put right back into the frying pan again. With nothing but the parcelled scraps of armor that the garrison had to repel the Sith, he was out of his element. Consolidating the defense to a shape even able to tangle with the Sith-Imperial assault would be a feat all its own.

​

// ROOSTER //: Death Trooper
// OBJECTIVE //: Cassel Point | The Underground
// ALLIES | NIO //: Hunter Blackburn
// ENEMIES | TSE //: Telis Taharin-Zambrano
Armor | Carbine | Pistol | Melee | 'Void' Grenades | 'Null' Grenades

​

R O O S T E R
R A G E R

<"Get up, trooper."> The Death Trooper said, voice marred and strained by the comms of his helmet. Green. Nothing anyone who'd been in the fire and smoke hated more than this. To see someone whimpering in fear of the battle around them. At the very least, that pale guise of the Stormtrooper did well enough to cover the crimes. Recollecting, Rooster only had to wonder how much blood, sweat and tears were sheltered behind that so easily identifiable gaze.

<"There's a breach! Underground! They're sending more!"> One of the Troopers sounded out in panic. Now wasn't the time to waver. Now wasn't the time to belch out all the vulnerability, all the lack of confidence.

<"Alright. I'll handle it. Rest of you keep them out up here...I'll keep them out down there."> The Death Trooper said. He was supposed to be assigned his new unit, his new band of brothers after they'd been killed over the course of the campaign on Muunilinst, the coup de grace to the rest of Task Force Crown, a parcelled together squad of Zabraki warriors regimented, trained and forged from Dathomir in-exile and the Imperial Province of Iridonia. They did their time, scored high marks and slotted a top tier effectiveness but ultimately, war took the rest. His boys, his friends, his comrades, his brothers. He loved each and every one of them but they were rendered unto ash now. Such as it was.

Spotting the last Galactic Marine in Hunter Blackburn charging back toward the fray, the Zabrak halted him, charric carbine clutched in his arms.

<"We got trouble down below. Me and you are gonna take care of it."> Krodare stated coldly past the gaze of his Hellion-pattern helmet. A haunting sight, one that only carried the frigid winds of death in its wake. If he knew the Thyrsian well enough based on reputation alone. He'd be firmly at his side.

As they descended down into the darkness, the Death Trooper flicked a variable before speaking up again.

<"$S^C!R&A$M!B*L#E @C!O#M@M&S* $H@E#R!E^ &O#N@ *O%U#T&."> (Scramble comms, here on out.) He muttered in command. They'd need the layer of deceit against whatever was waiting for them.

 

[Eleanor Lowe]

Location: Borosk, shuttle crash site, 300m southwest of Point Cassel
Allies: TSE -
Enemies: NIO - Hypatia Arresh
Objective: Figure out what’s going on

​

Eleanor woke to screeching klaxons. She sat up slowly, glass tinkling as it slid off her body onto the metal interior of the shuttle, and looked around. Dazed, she frowned at her surroundings. At first, she thought the whole world had tilted, but the ship was, in fact, listing at a significant angle, and Eleanor was wedged in the corner at the bottom, where the floor-plates met the interior skin of the hull, still strapped into her seat and leaning heavily against the wall.

She unclipped her harness and fell downwards with a thud, grunting and scrabbling up into a squat. Examining her injuries, she hissed between her teeth at a gash in her side, which was slowly seeping blood and soaking her black shirt. Other than than, she had only a few small lacerations- cuts from shards of glass to her face and hands, and a nasty scratch across her shins.

Eleanor shook her head slowly, collecting her thoughts. What had happened? She had been in her tiny sleeping cot, where she had been told to stay, and Madelyn had been upfront with the pilot. Originally, they’d been flying to Bastion for her father’s funeral, but Madelyn had told her halfway there that they’d been urgently rerouted, and Eleanor had gathered from the pilot they were in the Borosk system now, in NIO space, having questioned the man once Madelyn had retired the previous night. From what she understood, the sudden attack on Borosk was something of a last-chance strike for the Sith, an opportunity to cut off the New Imperials before they had a chance to threaten Bastion. Eleanor was not a ranking member of the Empire herself, but she understood the importance of the mission.

Then, almost as soon as they’d arrived in-system, something had exploded, and Eleanor recalled rushing out of her quarters as the shuttle plunged to the ground, Borosk growing larger through the front window as they spun out of control.

Her eyes flickered to the front of the ship. The pilot had fared poorly. He was draped over the instrument board, unmoving, a pool of red running down from the remains of his head. Madelyn, her older half-sister, and the Grand Moff of Oversector I, was also unmoving, and a trickle of blood dripped from her hairline and trickled down her face, but she seemed mostly unharmed from the crash.

Standing slowly, Eleanor made her way unsteadily across the broken interior of the ship. It was mostly intact, at least on the inside, but had been rendered entirely defunct by the crash. The interior was filled with dead or broken screens and dials, and various loose objects thrown about in the impact with the ground. She trudged through the tilted wreck to her sister, hanging listlessly from her seat, and examined her closely. She was breathing, battered, and apparently unconscious, but none of the wound appeared life-threatening. She glanced again at the pilot, but it was clear he’d already departed for the Netherworld.
Deciding to leave her sister where she was for the moment, Eleanor played with the comms, trying to call for assistance. But the shuttle was without power, and poking the various buttons on the dash was having no effect. Eventually, she gave up, and made her way to the back of the ship, heaving on the manual override until the rear entrance doors fell open with a hiss, falling away and hitting the ground outside with a dull thud. Eleanor squinted into the sunny sky and climbed out.

It was chaos. The crash had carved out a long, shallow furrow through the ground, clear as day from above, and around her, blaster shots pinged to and fro around a cluster of low buildings - Eleanor struggled to remember the name - Point Cassel. They must have crash-landed near it, and the Sith-Imperial assault had begun. Tentatively, she swung her legs out over the edge of the ship, hopping off the wrecked and twisted vessel onto the dirt below, immediately dropping close to the ground so as to avoid immediate spotting. Hopefully, the attack was distracting the soldiers from investigating the crash.

 

[Darth Argentum]

Objective One: Defend Casel Point Fortress
Allies: The NIO Irveric Tavlar (Ave, Imperator!)
Enemies: TSE Darth Zveris

"As you can clearly see gentlemen, Borosk represents massive potential profits," The Muun said from his seat in the board room.

Various heads, alien, human and near-human alike bobbed in agreement. Excited chatter came in Basic and other languages. Dansk allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. The last hour had seen him work these off-world investors.

Holoprojections strategically placed throughout his presentation had underlined just how resource-rich this planet was. Even the most cautious beings had been swayed as he'd listed off numerous mineral deposit sites. Greed conquered all. To think all he'd had to do was buy up land from an estate.

Of course, the recently departed land owner had died as a result of the Muun. Not that anyone suspected anything more than a weak heart giving out. He'd made sure the man's staff were...convinced. So he'd gotten away with it and bought the land for virtually nothing.

The foolish old man hadn't even known about the mineral deposits. Such a waste. But that was soon to be remedied. He'd be selling off mining rights while making a handsome percentage of the profits.

Or at least, he thought so....

His comm chimed and he scowled down at it in annoyance. The various investors looked towards him with a mixture of curiosity and minor irritation. Maro smoothed his frown and addressed them with a smile.

"My apologies, gentleman," he gestured towards his comm device "It appears my guards require my attention. I'll return in just a few moments. We'll begin the bidding then."

He rose from the table and exited into the hallway where he was met by a Moon Guard. His scowl had returned as he snapped at the junior officer.

"What is it."

"Sir, NIO forces have informed me that we're under attack. It';s the Sith Empire!"

The Muun sighed in exasperation and shook his elongated cranium slowly. He'd been so close to finalizing his scheme. It seemed like he couldn't be rid of them even after his departure from their ranks.

"Escort my guests to the designated bunker. Then protect them until I say otherwise. It wouldn't do to have them killed."

Indeed not. Not while their credits hung in the balance. They were of no use to him while dead.

"Sir, what about you.-"

The Muun cut him off with a gesture.

"I'll be fine, Lieutenant. We are in the confines of an Imperial fortress, after all."

He smiled thinly as the Moon Guard saluted and went about carrying out his orders. What the young officer didn't know was that the Dark Side offered protection he and his men's blasters could never provide.

As he turned and strode down the hallway, he could see and hear the bustle of NIO personnel preparing for the attack just ahead. He vaguely wondered what the next few hours would see happen....

 

[Agrippa]

GLADIUS COMPANY, 501ST LEGION
CASSEL POINT, RAMPARTS
STRENGTHEN FORTRESS DEFENSE
CALLSIGN: GLADIUS ACTUAL


Hunter Blackburn Ravraa Vyshraal VK-118 Ryv Loske Treicolt Bernard of Arca Aerith Castiella Ursula Vizla Vaeri Irveric Tavlar

RESIST AND BITE

​

War came swiftly. We were pulled out immediately from the front lines as an emergency relief force to Borosk - the staging point of our invasion into Sith-Imperial space. Somehow, through exceptional and superior astrogation efforts, the Sith-Imperial fleet were able to deliver a heavy strike on Borosk through which all of our supplies and logistics were funnel towards the front. We're just a Company of stormtroopers and we were told to hold; hold the Sith blitz as the ground all around us burned.

Outgunned and outnumbered we must and we will what do is right.

Resist and bite.

We touched ground on ramparts facing the greater push of the Sith-Imperial besiegers. The lines were wavering, tattered under the intensity of the Sith's firepower. They were coming in all in.

<"Agrippa. Bridge contact with the Garrison command, Treicolt, any of them. We're dead men walking if we don't organize this mess.">

<"Roger that, Imperator."> I nodded curtly and disembarked from the vessel as it went up back again leaving us alone into the maws of doom itself.

The Imperator was an imposing and intimidating figure. The rookie 908th, I knew, felt the boost of his presence. It meant a lot. It always did when you're a green and you've held a rifle for the first time in your life. But to us disgruntled and cynical veterans, he was just another body in the fray.

And I respected that. No magic to save his ass. Just pure grit. Live or die, give it all today.

The Company immediately spread out and reinforced positions which seemed most critical, I had complete trust in my sergeants; Hooks knew when to strike and when to hide, Krayt chewed Legionnaires for breakfast, Hawkeye could pinpoint an enemy's weakness with a blindfold, Bingo was a natural-born cheater and Faceless...Faceless was our unique Force-using, throat-cutting brother.

Leaving the tactical side of things to those five was good enough for me, I had to find Treicolt - see what we could do strategy-wise. The Major General had been stationed here as the only experienced stormtrooper to man the fortifications of Cassel Point. Tavlar really hadn't given him much to work with but in reality it was all he could give. We, old soldier karkers, knew very well the grim situation we were in when we first signed up and took arms against our former brothers and former leash holders - the Sith. They had everything more. Guns, numbers, resources. I heard myself cackling at thought, my own dark humor kicking in as I saw the brutal reality of the siege.

We're a bunch of dead men walking. It falls apart here.

Faceless shoved me and my thoughts away. He'd been reading minds again. A silent, but intimidating glare from him made me forego my worries. Soldier up, karker. You're in command now. No Belisarius to save your ass. He left me wondering where my guts had gone. I pulled myself together, despite the actual sky falling down upon us all and rushed away deeper into the fortress where the Fortress Defence Command was established; where Konrad Bolter was.

Off I went through the armageddon of slain brothers and sisters, through the hell of yesterday's brothers murdering each other for what the other thought was right. I knew where I stood, I knew what was right. The chains were broken and it was time for us to put them on the Sith themselves.

My poem-worthy, obstacle-ridden rush towards Treicolt found me at the thickest of fights. The bastard had put himself straight into the purgatory. I knew him personally from the drunken charade on Phaeda, a bull of a man with cojones so big I wondered how he fit inside tanks. That drunken attitude was gone replaced by a battle-hardened persona we all came to embrace by necessity. Showmanship, someone had told me, was two-thirds of victory in battle. I was a tricky bastard, I was good at that.

"Major General, the Imperator sent me to get a grip on the situation. Gladius is feet on the ground, all my sarges have moved in to reinforce what looks like the worst spots of the siege." I directly stated. No time for salutes, no time for wasteless formality. Not that the Company was good at any of that. I wasn't sure how we weren't sent to a penal colony already. But I guess you need degenerates like us to carry on deeds that would leave you sleepless at night. "How's it looking?"

I knew the answer to that.

I wish I didn't.

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Valeria Ragal (Ingrid L’lerim)
The Red Witch; sorcerer, master spy, agent, assassin, sniper​

Location: Star destroyer, Space
Objective: Objective II - Anti-Boarding
Equipment: 2x vibroblade | Standard vibrosword with these look | 2x red blade lightsaber shoto | Tactical Turtleneck with this look | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | Stealth field generator | Holographic disguise matrix | G1 OmniLink | Actual look under the armor: link |
Allies: AMCO | Kiber Dorn | TSE and allies
Enemies: Lucien Dooku | LT-137 | Théodoro | NIO and allies

Background music:
Elena Siegman – Abracadavre​

It could not be said that these would have been Ingrid's easiest days, not long since she was infiltrated into the TSE, this fact was not even known to the Eternal Empire, only Kainan Wolfe knew about. She spent her last time mainly with her lover, AMCO . Until she can go home, her right hand, the shape-shifting sithspawn Kessia Miran replaces her in the office and other places. The woman was perfectly able to play Ingrid anyway, Ingrid’s aunt designed and made her for that.

She was forced to acquire new armors because she could not use her own, thanks to the fact the Eternal Empire and the Sith Empire were just at war. Fortunately she was able to buy equipment for herself from one of Adrian's companies. The issue of armor and gadgets was thus resolved. The weapons remained the old ones, she just built another shoto instead of the shroudsaber. One the same she already had.

Another war began, rather a retaliation, and she, to prove her allegiance to the Sith Empire, decided to join. Ironically, once again, she intended to protect the back half of her lover because she was with Adrian. This time she did not plan this, it turned out on the ship that the man was here as well. For when Ingrid arrived on the ship she felt his present, so the woman joined him after that. They were at war again, and Adrian still didn't have much place there, at least according to Ingrid. Maybe he was a perfect sorcerer, but without any combat training he was in danger.

”When it's over... we really need to start your training, handsome” she said. ”And I don’t mean what we do between the pillows!”

Then the ship suddenly shook, Ingrid sighed, knowing exactly what it all meant, enough fighting had been involved to know no accident happened. The next moment she also heard Hailyn ' s voice, who said exactly what she expected. Ingrid looked over Adrian and his "pet", so far she couldn't decide if sithspawn or experimental rabbit or what the hell could be that thing exactly. She was just sure he – it was even a he? – wasn't specifically fit to protect his master.

”I think this is for me, I'd be happy for you to stay in touch with your bodyguard. But I have a feeling I would ask for too much, so try to take care of yourself, handsome if i can't just be there” if the man let her, she stroked his cheek and kissed him.

The "helmet" part of her armor also picked up the hood, so it covered her face. Meanwhile she also activated her holographic disguise matrix, for very few knew she was here like Ingrid L'lerim, she infiltrated in as the usual Valeria Ragal, with another appearance. She couldn't risk anyone attacking her because they didn't know she had betrayed the Eternal Empire. On the other hand, the Eternal Empire could not have known that she was here either. Like she said, she had hard days.

”Well how do you decide along with your pet handsome?” she asked. ”Anyway ... what is this?”

​

 

[Lirka Ka]

Location: Arriving at Cassel Point
Objective: Land and slaughter
Enemies: NIO and Allies
Allies: TSE and Allies

Lirka's shuttled droned down to Borosk, shielded away from the fire outside: the occasional rubble rocked the vessel on it's approach, and more than once did it seem that it was about to explode into a ball of flames and debris. But Lirka would never go down that easily. With a thud the vessel made planetfall, the not-so-distant sounds of war reaching the Sephi's ears as her massive armored bulk stomped from the vessel, her blade's electro plasma filament igniting with emerald flame as it was raised to the sky.

Lirka was always loud. And obnoxious. And today would be no different than all the other battles.

"Today! The end of the Apostate menace is at hand! No longer shall they assault our great Empire, no longer shall they serve as the guardians of Jedi trash! Destroy! Show no mercy! They are but animals, depraved degenerates! Destroy them, purge them like the plague they are!"

With fire burning in her heart, both from the combat drugs and the idea of wanton slaughter, Lirka began to push herself forward into a loping charge; the battle was distant still, and she couldn't let the little Legionnaires have all the fun.

 

[DK-03]

Objective: Defend Cassel Point.

"Blah blah blah," the Imperial Officer of V.O.I.D. (Vehicle Ordinance Infantry Division) called out.

DK-03 paid attention to the man's words, listening intently.

"BLAH BLAH BLAH, BLAH BLAH." The Officer gestured at the outer defenses of Cassel Point, the defense installation on Borosk.

DK-03 nodded.

"BLAH." The Officer pointed at DK. He began sweating in response, under his massive clunky armor.

"Affirmative," he offered in response. The Officer nodded, and moved down the ranks. "Blah blah bla-"

If you hadn't caught on by now, DK-03 had no idea what was going on or what was about to happen, but man did he really, really, really have to pee.

 

[AMCO]

Location: HIMS Baleful, en route to Borosk
Objective: Dispose of the boarders, seize Borosk, strangle the New Imperial supply lines.
Equipment: Viper Mk. I Skinsuit, SIB-14, & G1 OmniLink | Shield Talisman & [2] Jin'Pins | 4/4 Karza'Arana Darksworn
Writing With: Kiber Dorn | Ingrid L'lerim || LT-137 | Lucien Dooku | Théodoro

Another day, another damn battle - it felt as if it was all he did these days, despite his reluctance to be involved in such matters. Had these so-called New Imperials not been a bunch of feudalistic rabble with no appreciation for the Sithier Sciences, he might well be in a lab... or a resort.

Alas, a victory for them would not only impede his research, it would also make everything he had done in the name of stability pointless...

... and that thought made the Dark Councilor more uncomfortable that he dared to admit even to himself.

"Oh, I'm sure we'll have time for both - something to motivate me to endure your no doubt relentless training schedule, you know?" Smirking softly, he was nonetheless quite happy to have her at his side again, doubly so since she was now (probably) a double agent for the Sith. It certainly didn't hurt that she was genuinely pleasant company and remarkably good at keeping him out of harm's way to boot.

Mildly annoyed by Hailyn 's warning - he supposed it was too much to ask that the New Imperials just roll over and die, or preferably surrender and cede their intact assets to the Sith-Imperial state - he pulled up the hood of his suit, feeling fairly well-protected for a change.

Turning to the nameless creature hovering nearby, his voice remained oddly conversational. "Would you kindly establish an overview of our attackers? The rank-and-file is largely irrelevant, see if you can locate a Jedi Knight - or an Imperial one, for that matter. If not, someone notable."

 

[Ryv]

// Sword of the Jedi //
// Borosk //
// Retrieve Intel from the Inside Agent //
// Stay //
// Allyson Locke // Loske Treicolt // Adriana Fortemps //

​

"I'm transferring the facilities coordinates now, Loske," Ryv took a knee, pausing to peer up from the empty ridgeline, his gaze drifting over the even more barren fields leading up to the abandoned facility he would soon traverse. "Shouldn't take long to get the intel from her. Assume things went to shit if I don't comm you once I make contact," his fingers tapped along the datapad in his other hand. The aforementioned information entered quickly before the Jedi Knight sent it away to his waiting companion. "If things get dicey, Loske," Ryv pushed himself back to his feet, his hands sliding into his jacket pockets. "Get her out, alright? I'll manage, I always do. But she's losing herself to all this. I don't think she'll last much longer, Loske. I promised her I wouldn't let her be alone, and the fucking Alliance sent her in on this. We've gotta bring her home," he turned to his right, beginning to make his way down the steep trail running down the jagged ridge.

Everything felt wrong to the young Jedi Knight. The information shared by the Alliance's inside agent within the Sith Empire provided insight to the coming attack. Not quickly enough for the New Imperial Order to station a proper garrison upon the planet, but it gave them time to turn their attention from the stalled out battles at the front and turn back for the heartland. It gave the Sovereign-Imperator time to send people like Ryv ahead of the main force, to find a place within the planet's defense. Borosk felt different than Muunilist. He thought it might've had something to do with the nature of the attack. This engagement wasn't fought on terms dictated by the New Imperial Order or Galactic Alliance. That alone spoke to the Kiffar, but the further he followed that thought process, the more apparent it became it had nothing to do with this feeling hanging over him. Whispers caressed his mind, pleading with him to turn away from the facility, abandon it and return to Cassel Point with the skeleton crew of a garrison. He paused at the base of the small cliff face, Ryv's amber gaze drawn to the tip of Cassel's towering fortress.

"Father," Ryv muttered, his hand reaching beneath the jacket and armorweave suit beneath, grasping at the thin chain looped around his neck. "If your duty demanded it, would you have left mom behind?" his eyes closed as he drew upon the force, summoning its calming touch to his mind. Ashla embraced him, wrapping her arms about her noble sentinel lovingly, promising him the guidance he saw. Through her eyes, Ryv saw echoes of the past. A pair of star-crossed lovers wandered through a verdant park, flowers of vibrant hues in full bloom, petals opened wide to the twinkling sky above. The sound of a bubbling river cut through the silent night, the only other noise aside from the crunch of grass beneath their feet. The man, his father, Vyrin Karis, turned to face the woman. Amaraya, his mother, stumbled forward, her trip to the soft earth below halted by his father's firm embrace.

"Amaraya," Vyrin muttered, his hands taking hers as he gazed lovingly into pools of warm amber. "I've spent my entire life in training to become a Jedi Knight. I've passed every test put before me. I live without fear, I trust my feelings, and I turn away the corrupting touch of the Dark Side whenever it rears its ugly head," his thumb gently gliding along her soft skin. "I've known no temptation, that is, until I met you, my sweet," he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against her's, the warmth within his heart was so intense that even Ryv could feel it as he peered back at the distant memory. "My life at the temple has kept me humble, devoid of worldly possessions. I've not given you much, Amaraya. I've only been able to provide you with time, stolen away from my daily meditations, words, spoken with utmost sincerity, and love, offered from my heart's deepest recesses. Still, I do not wish this to end," Vyrin pulled away from her, slowly dropping to a knee as he took her left hand within his.

"Vyrin!" Amaraya cried out, eyes glistening as tears welled up at the edges of her vision. "W-We talked about this! Your duties to the Jedi! I- well, I thought you couldn't do this, I thoug-" she paused, her mouth snapping shut as Vyrin revealed a golden band, housing an intricately carved kyber crystal thrumming with Ashla's warmth. It wasn't an overly impressive ring, as the band itself lacked much design, and the gem wasn't the largest, but it didn't appear to matter to her. Ryv watched whatever his mother had to say die out completely, falling to the wayside as her heart exploded with a warmth her son had only experienced once before.

"Amaraya, my love, will you marry this dimwitted Jedi and make him the happiest man in the galaxy?" Vyrin's question came out so naturally as if he rehearsed it a hundred times that same afternoon. Ryv's grip on the ring tightened, tears already rolling down his sun-kissed cheeks.

"Oh, Vyrin, yes! Yes! Of course I'll marry you!" Amaraya pulled her fiancee to his feet, leaping with uncontained joy as she wrapped her arms around him.

Ryv did not let go of his mother's ring, even as the ring's memory melted away, replaced by the dusty landscape around him. He turned his gaze from the fortress, his attention falling on the abandoned factory chosen for the coming meeting.

"I guess that answers my question, huh?" Ryv asked the question as if expecting his father to materialize right there. The Jedi Knight set forth once more, each step carrying him closer to the facility, closer to the meeting he longed for, closer to Allyson, the woman he loved, and closer to that feeling of unrest. He buried that feeling without another thought, disregarding it entirely as he strode through the factory's entrance. A durasteel blast door was locked in place, midway through closing or opening, Ryv couldn't tell. The minor detail was lost on him as he squeezed through, his eyes drawn to the darkroom instead. "Not much longer," he muttered, the ring still held in his palm. Just keeping it there provided him strength, likely the same strength his father displayed the night he asked Ryv's mother to marry him. Until seeing that memory, Ryv wasn't sure the marriage life was for him. Past failures and fear of the unknown kept him, the young Kiffar unable to break free of its icy grip. But seeing his father, a man he'd only ever known as a staunch Jedi Master, follow his heart and listen to the feelings his ever-stoic features hid away? It resonated within his son.

"Maybe," Ryv muttered, moving deeper into the dilapidated structure.

 

[Darth Vinaze]

Objective: Defend Cassel Point
Allies: NIO // Open
Enemies: TSE // Open​

Derleth had successfully avoided this war since the beginning. The shadows were where he had chosen to stay, until now. The false Sith had made their move in the greatest of kaggaths. He knew it had been all too easy, the fall of Mygeeto, Muunilist, and Scipio. The Emperor may have been a dogmatic imperialist, but he wasn't stupid. Derleth could see that just looking out the large windows of the command center. The Sith Empire had brought its full might down on Borosk.

He was surrounded by enemies.

He could tell that the New Imperials were distrustful of him, which he understood. It must be disheartening to fight the massive armies of the Sith Empire, only to have another Sith stand just over your shoulder. For that reason, Derleth tried not to interfere with the goings on of the Order.

He was lucky enough to have the privilege of shelter in the command center for now. They feared the pale-skinned Sith enough to not question him when he arrived. In reality, if Derleth could have had his way, he wouldn't be trapped on Borosk. Borosk was nothing but a stop over, yet the enemy had attacked at the right time for him to be trapped. The situation fueled his anger, but he fought not to show it to the others in the room. If he had to unleash his rage, he would do so when the enemy inevitably swarmed his location. Even for a max security military base, Cassel point would not hold against this invasion force.

He took his leave of the command center and wandered down the hall. The fighting was less audible there. In another stroke of luck he chanced upon an officer's lounge, devoid of its titular users. Most of them, would likely never see the cozy, well-furnished room again. Derleth strode in and took a cross-legged seat on the soft, carpeted floor. Too any good things were happening to him, which meant his luck would run out sooner than later. In the brief period of respite he found, he placed his sword on the ground next to hims, closed his eyes and began to meditate.

He found himself on Bastion, a world he had only visited a few times, meaning this dreamscape was less like the actual thing and more cobbled together from other places in Derleth's mind. The major difference however was the fire. Flames taller than most of the buildings engulfed the Emperor's palace. A combination of disembodied chanting and screaming filled the atmosphere of the vision. The language was old high Sith, or Ur-Kittat, a language he was familiar with but sadly not adept at speaking. Like he was viewing them from the top of a tall building, a legion of Sith and Jedi clashed in front of the palace. Beside him was the Dark kabal, his fellow Sith. He could not call out to them, even with all his will. He watched as a seemingly endless battle between the Sith and Jedi took place, as the buildings around them burned to ash at a snail's pace. After an eternity, when there were no more buildings, the ground where they once stood began to turn black. It then engulfed the armies and himself. He felt himself falling before his eyes snapped open to the growing sound of the blaster fire and yelling.

Some of the Sith Imperials had entered the compound.

He arose and shook himself into focus. It was not uncommon for Sith and Jedi to receive visions from the force. Usually he could not understand them, but this one was clear to him. That was the future he was faced with if the NIO won this war. The other Sith Lords had likely felt this too, but how they might interpret this future he knew not.

He re-equipped his sheath. It hung down the length of his back. He drew the large black blade and gripped it firmly with two hands. He made his way back to the door, and quietly into the hallway. The yelling grew louder as he sneaked down the hall. Either he was approaching someone, or they were approaching him...

 

[Aerith Krayt]

Cassel Point

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Aerith could feel her organs vibrate every time an artillery shell impact. How strange this was.

Everything seemed to move slower now, but she couldn't even begin to say why. She turned her head to the right and found Pvt. Laszlo had a hole punched right through his armored breastplate, and to her left Cpl. Revul was missing his head. Seemed like she was the last one standing; or sitting atm. Their bunker had taken a direct hit, which probably explained why her ears were ringing. She cradled her precious chain gun in her hands, trying to think of what to do other than fire back into the oncoming masses. Her helmet had been knocked loose by that first strike, and as she reached for it time seemed to tick by ever so slowly; was this what a real combat high felt like?

Grabbing the sides of the helmet and pulling it back, she found the inside caked with synthetic blood. Her face felt cold, and upon inspection, she found that her synthetic skin had been torn off, making her right side look like a patch of raw meat over the metal frame work; well, least she had some intimidation points there. The thought of running headlong into a swarm of Sith missing half her face was amusing, but it would have just gotten her killed. She clamped her helmet back on and took the Vibro-Ax that Revul had strapped to his back; poor soul wasn't going to need it anyways.

Raising up, the sysnetic blood began to trickle out of the helmet and splatter onto her armor, but she didn't care; not like it was going to kill her anyways. With gun in hand, Aerith moved herself into the nice big hole that the Sith had made for her and waited for their troopers to try and approach; they were going to be in for a rude awaking.

 

[Djorn Bline]

Location: Borosk
Allies: The Sith Empire
Enemies: New Imperial Order
Objective: Infiltrate and sabotage
Equipment
ARMOR | RIFLE | PISTOL | DAX GRENADE | EMP GRENADE | THERMAL IMPLODER | MELEE

Lots of preparation and detail was put into this assignment by the newly appointed Grand Moff of Intelligence. While one would rejoice with jubilee upon receiving an office such as his, it only made him made him work on double shifts in order to produce results and any noteworthy successes to Taeli Raaf and the rest of his superiors. Desperate times call for desperate measures, he supposed. A new wave of fresh air into the lungs of the Empire; out with the old and in with the new. The "old" being lax and corrupted with sloth, their stagnancy were the reasons why the Empire suffered with these traitors as their duty was cull out anyone with traitorous thoughts before they became an actual threat. And now the "in" had to clean up everything their failed predecessors left behind and make sure every cog and gear was not defunct and able to serve the will of the Empire properly.

Everything for this mission was calculated and coordinated as well as it could be with all the data and intel gathered. War was something one couldn't fully prepared for; to Djorn it was all based on theory. Make these predictions, hope your opponent would move in the way you wanted to, have failsafe tactics in case things become critical and severe. But one thing was sure when it came to war or any other aspect in life.

Every action had its own consequence.

The consequences of a lax and lazy Empire led to an uprising, following a humiliating defeat at Mygeeto and Muunilist. But even that defeat unveiled an opportunity for the Empire to capitalize on and not leave for another minute.

Borosk.

The spear was, in many scenarios, indeed mightier than the sword, but even a swordsman could find that one opening to gain an advantage and make the spearsman regret their prior advances. They let themselves open at Borosk and the Empire had every intent in finding victory, even if it bypassed any morals and values they held on to. So much so it led Djorn to selecting disruptor weaponry for this mission. There would be no survivors or any signs of mercy extended to the New-Imperials.

Nothing can go in vain today
​

Legionnaires and other regular soldiers were counting on the infiltrating team to do their part while they kept the Imperials occupied on the frontlines with their assault on Cassel Point. All that mattered was the mission. A victory here was desperately needed, give some breathing room for the Empire and dissuade this military campaign of the New-Imperials.

Eight operatives were assigned with Djorn, and there were other agents on the field, such as Eleanor Lowe, that would infiltrate Cassel Point by their own means. Amongst his agents Djorn was in command, but he allowed his agents to use their creativity and free thinking in how to carry out their duties. If needed, he would give out orders and direct them what to do. That would be required when the time came; although he did expect them to report any vital information to him and to their peers.

"No screw ups today," he plainly said to his agents, all who gave a silent nod. They were handpicked by him, hoping their talents and skills would complement his. Already the Foreign Intelligence had many agents disposed of for their incompetence and failure. There would be no room for that in this day of age. They had yet to plant their boots on the ground, still aboard the stealth shuttle that already bypassed Borosk's atmosphere and was heading for the military outpost. Already the battle on the ground had commenced with Lirka Ka leading with command along with any noteworthy officers. All they had to do was keep their enemies distracted from that subtle dagger piercing through their ranks.

"BANSHEE, this is Diamondback. No interruptions in the comms?" The surveillance corvette was a critical to their operations in providing clear communication and accurate intel when infiltrating. These factors would determine life or death, victory or defeat. The corvette was hidden among the the Sith-Imperial fleet present here. It had no intentions in contributing to any scene on the naval battle as it was focused on assisting the infiltrators on the ground.

"Negative, sir. Everything is crystal clear, all channels are well encrypted and not suffering any jams."

"Find an opening for us and send us the coordinates."

A few moments it would take to get what he needed, coordinates were sent immediately for the pilot to maneuver the shuttle to where they needed to be. Until then he'd take advantage of this time to enjoy some sense of peace. They were committed to this and there would be no turning back. Live or die they would give everything for a mission completed.

 

[Kascalion Giedfield]

Location: Cassel Point, Borosk | Descending in Transport Shuttles
Objective: Take the Stronghold | Kill the New Imperial Order Forces
Allies: TSE
Enemies: NIO | Irveric Tavlar
NPC Forces:

• Cognus Legion - 1st Battalion - Korriban Company [150 Soldiers]
• Argent Walkers - 2nd Battalion - Typh Company [100 Soldiers] / WIP
• KS-05 "Goliath Stampede" [2 Droids - Gigasmite and Lunarhem]

Equipment:

• Form [Metamorphosed into X]
• Armor [Ceremonial]
• Weapon

Theme: X

---

The wind beats against the crystasteel viewports of the shuttles like wings of a giant bird. To the soldiers inside these vessels, it is a calming noise that combats the calamity of fire and blood encroaching at rapid speeds. How long has it been since the soldiers of the Cognus Legion had tasted traitorous blood? How long has it been since the soldiers of the Argent Walkers had tasted any blood at all? Kascalion asks himself these questions as he finagles with the straps of his gauntlets and gazes over the mixed units in his personal shuttle.

The green-black armored loyalists, serving an Empire besieged from all sides and seeking to do their duty. And the steel titans, fighting for an Empire they do not personally serve and possibly do not even believe in, yet fight for out of utter devotion to their warrior-king who does believe in them. It is almost a kind of sweet innocence that they hold against a galaxy of disdainful warfare and backstabbing individuals. To follow a man they believe to hold no faults, or at least do not care about such faults, into the fray is an admirable trait.

The speakers in the transport section of the shuttle squawk to life, "Two minutes to the drop zone. Channel is open for you, Lord Kascalion."

The drop zone. Roughly a half-mile from the walls and ramparts where they will attempt to enter the stronghold proper and take it from the apostates. The climb will be harsh and many will likely die, but that is the price that must be paid. The Devil nods to himself - gripping the hilt of his spear tightly - and stands at the head of the two rows of ten, drawing their attention with a sharp grunt. Inhaling and exhaling slightly, only slightly, he begins to speak to all listening over the encrypted channel in the shuttles.

"Many of you have not faced these Imperial soldiers who have betrayed the Empire in their attempt at independence and solidification of their false ideals. Many of you have before, but have not since those singular encounters. Let it be known that despite their status as treasonous dogs, they are fighters and they will scratch and claw to keep what they believe is theirs to live with. Show them that nothing but DEATH is theirs to live with."

The soldiers begin stamping their feet, a mixture of light taps from the Cognus and heavy thunder-cracks from the Argent Walkers, bringing a rare grin to the face of the Devil before he covers his head with his uniquely shaped helm. "I would rather fight beside you than any army of billions! We are warriors, we are knights, and we are lords. Upon this ragged planet of Borosk, immortality awaits you in the annals of history. Claim your place against these apostates and live forever!"

The shuttles land, the hatches slide open, and the Devil's forces charge out alongside their Sith-Imperial comrades. Three from Kascalion's Cognus Legion are immediately gunned down upon the ascent of the rocky terrain. Silajaid, Lacros, and Elaall. Mere corporals who had been granted the honor of fighting alongside the warrior-king now dead on the rocks with smoldering, ashy holes in the center of their chests. The sight angers the warrior-king, enough to make him sprint with such speed he appears more blur than solid form, intent set and eyes focused on the nearing ramparts, uncaring about any blasts that may connect with his body, knowing that its hidden physiology would protect him.

Meanwhile, the Korriban and Typh Companies work in unison, sharing commanders and using the rocky terrain to great effect.

"Stick to cover!" shouts Korriban Company Commander Darkayl over the shared communications channel of the Devil's forces as a wave of blasts gun down two more soldiers from the Cognus Legion. "Only move when the enemy is firing at someone else. Droids, that goes for you too. I want Extinguishers and Enigmas and Protons on the walls where possible. The rest of you, pick your shots, conserve ammunition. Wait until the Sith have cleared enough of the ramparts before charging. Clear up the stragglers when we get to the top."

Letting others doing the tactics may be the most logical thing I have done in ages, the Devil thinks to himself as he draws closer and closer to the walls with each rapid footfall.

 

[Hypatia Arresh]

Location: Borosk
Target: Madelyn Lowe | Proxy Eleanor Lowe
Allies by Circumstance: NIO
Enemies by Circumstance: TSE

​

The Mynock's Claw hummed through hyperspace and Hypatia was careful to watch for the point. She had been en route to Bastion on the trail of a Sith-Imperial with a bounty over their head. The Claw's console reflected on her T-shaped visor laid silent as her gloved hands flipped on a switch as she readied the ship for revision back into realspace. Sith-Imperial. New Imperial. What was one genocidal empire with a history of violence compared to another? Well. At least these guys were trying to do it with Stormtroopers, she supposed, not that it mattered. So long as they both paid, Hypatia couldn't give a womp rat's arse which of them thought they were the better genocidal empire with a history of violence. (Although she'd happily take in any Sith Imperial as repayment for Mandalore.)​

The ship's console came to life as it neared the point, Hypatia's hands went to the yoke. The Mynock's Claw return to realspace was relatively smooth, only if you didn't account for the literal sithspit in the void. It seemed the Sith Empire had been there to return the favor that the New Imperials paid them not so long ago. The tracking fob for her target grew louder, the beeps were strung closer together as she navigated the ship closer toward her target. ​

​

"Kriffing schutta..." Hypatia cursed as various vessels in front of her exchanged fire and another set headed for the planet. One of those vessels had been her target. She was only mildly upset to not have had a chance to get in on the exchange, the Claw's shields went up and she pushed past the exchange. The ship's BHG registry was probably the only thing keeping people from firing on her that and coupled with the ship's rate of speed may have had something to do with it. ​

​

She pushed the Mynock's Claw through Borosk's atmosphere. Ship's sensors and the tracking fob worked to dictate the direction she needed to go in, and at the very least find a place to land the boat. ​

​

Sometime later, Hypatia managed to find a parking spot for the ship somewhere beyond Point Cassel. It was only then that she downloaded the tracking fob's data and combed through what schematics she could of the area that she realized who her target was. A former First Imperial? Well. This just kept getting better and better, talk about an empire with a history of genocide and violence. The only good Imperial was a dead Imperial. Hypatia sighed, in truth, she thought that of everyone in the galaxy. Including other Mandalorians. No one in the galaxy did themselves any favors and all ended up one way or another up for a bounty. ​

​

Tracking fob placed into a pouch along her belt, disruptor rifle slung across her shoulder, blaster pistol holstered on her hip and a vibrodagger stashed into a sheath on the inside of her boot, and of course wrist-rockets. Hypatia just hoped this would go better than the coronation, and if not? Well. Good thing war had come to Borosk's doorstep. ​

​

​

 

[Ravraa Vyshraal]

​

Location: Cassel Point | Borosk
Task: Hold the Siege - Objective One
RP Partners: O P E N
Faction: New Imperial Order
Narrative NPCs: Dorn-2

EQUIPMENT: Imperial Military Fatigues
---

"And then, Zohlees punches the Trando right in the-"

Ravraa had been given very few moments to enjoy life during his service, he had hardly been given moments such as this. Where he was smiling like a bright eyed child as he passed stories around the lunchtable with his squad, Dorn-2 beaming and energy that anyone in the messhall could feel. Thavimar, who normally remained quiet in and out of conflict, was going on just moments before about the type of life he lived on his home planet. He grew up in some Correllian slums, apparently, and had a wide variaty of tales of youths turned into debauchery far too soon. Of deathsticks smoked far too early. Of drinks sneaked in the cover of darkness. Though, he told each of the tales with a smile on his face, recanting the time him and his friends once stole a landspeeder from the CorSec department, drove it through the city streets, before catching the corner of a building and rolling it into an alleyway. A life very disimilar to what the rest of the table had lived. Each of them listening as intently as they could, taking in every last word and savoring it, a moment to get to properly know one another outside of quick witted jokes in the heat of conflict. Ravraa thought it would be the perfect time to finally let lose about his father, after all, his squadmates had been pestering him about it ever since he drug that old slugthrower out of storage. Apparently answering every last question with 'it's pa's gun' doesn't come off as satisfactory when it's your bunkerbuddies. Apparently they felt as if they were intilted to more of your life than you let on. Jeresan especially was rather pointant on bothering his Sergeant about the origin of the weapon, about a lot of things that the Togruta held close and personal. While he talked a big game in front of the rest of the squad, the silent moments, the seconds between, when they passed in the hall or caught eyes on the range, Ravraa found himself lacking his normal bravado. His voice choking, threatening to give in. Though here, he was able to let loose, tell whatever he wanted, those little secrets that Jeresan never could pry from him in private.

Then that damned alarm turned on in the middle of the best part.

Instantly, heads began to turn up all around the mess hall, people standing from their seats, and a general pause of action. Ravraa stood, rather suddenly from his seat, glancing around at the blank, glazed over faces as the men and women of the Imperial Army waited for a follow up. The fortress was exactly that, a fortress, and that alarm was something else. It indicated immediate threat, immediate worry, and the first wave of thoughts was the idea that it was simply a drill. That was until the lights flickered in grand shutters, racking themselves on and off. Distantly, the reverberations of some form of shelling, maybe a bombing run, maybe heavy small arms fire, dared to shake the foundation of the building. A voice broke out through the alarm, echoing through the spacious mess hall.

"Attention, all combat personnel: Please report to your action stations."

And with that, the mess hall began to empty itself nearly instantly into the hallways that surrounded it. Thankfully, the amount of troopers that were actually in the room was spare, less than normal, but a handful of thirty members of the bases security were still left in their fatigues without any weapons currently on their person. The squad leaders, or whoever was the quickest to the draw, began to lead their soliders from the tables and out of the mess hall, taking a glance at his troops, Ravraa gave a wave.

"Up! We've gotta go runnin'"

"With what blasters, eh?" Haupont would interject.

Ravraa was already well on his way to the doors as the squad fell in behind him.

"One problem at a time!"

 

[Hunter Blackburn]

// PROTEIN//
// OBJECTIVE // Cassel Point | The Underground
// ALLIES | NIO // Irveric Tavlar
// ENEMIES | TSE // Telis Taharin-Zambrano

Spoiler: Equipment

Infantry Armor
Disruptor Carbine
Thyrisian Battle Oil
Blue Mojo Necklace
Hybrid Pistol
Vibrosword
Disruption device
The Albatross

War was many things for people. There were those who thrived in war, who sought the thrill. The sense of danger, the feeling of snatching the life away from another. Those were the animals. They were the Sith. Those like Darth Voracitos , Darth Prazutis , Hailyn . Their kind was a plague to the galaxy. They offered nothing, all they did was take and take and take to sate their twisted desires.

There were some who feared war, who feared the consequences, who shook in their boots at the thought of meeting a cold and brutal end. Many of those people would never be known for they did not seek to do what was right or wrong. They simply existed hoping to continue on with their meager existences.

There were even those who tossed everything aside in the name of a greater good, who laid down their lives to ensure the galaxy would have a brighter tomorrow. Everywhere you looked throughout Galactic history you could find individuals like that. That sought to be the change they thought the galaxy needed. Irveric Tavlar , Ryv , Loske Treicolt . Beacons in the galaxy that could enact change, that could be idols for the coming generations.

The final group, the one group people often forget are those who went to war to die. That sought nothing more than to cease to be. To end the miserable existence that they’d come to know. Adrial was in this last group. A man who had everything and yet had nothing. A man who now owned a successful supplement company that had launched their flagship to raving reviews. Yet what did that mean when he had no one to share it with? All those he fought alongside, sweated alongside, bled alongside. They were all gone, dead on Mygeeto. What did it matter to live when you stood on your own? Adrial loved that the Sith had come to Borosk. That they gave him a chance to end things the way they should’ve on Mygeeto.

Behind the visor of his armor, Adrial’s eyes twitched from the death sticks he'd injected only moments prior. His skin tingled. The muscles in his jaw tight as he focused on the here and now. Thrysian battle oil flooded the warrior's system. That ecstasy it should’ve provided being nothing more than a motivator for the man.

“Let them come.”

Those were the only words offered from the Thyrisian to the Deathtrooper. What more needed to be said? Two soldiers embarking on a mission that spelled their end. Two against only the Force knew how many. With a few final steps, the darkness completely enveloped the soldiers.

 

[Daedalos Solidor]

O B J E C T I V E | 1
L O C A T I O N | Stronghold.
T A G S | Open, talk or fight with me.
T H E M E | Here.
G E A R | On the bottom.​

Orders were orders. His father gave him permission to join his sister when she called him and asked him to join her ranks, in her own words Lunafreya said she lacked ‘professionals’ to help her achieve what she was aiming for, whatever that was. He didn’t really cared about those things, he was too bored in his own planet to deny her offer, especially when she said he would have his free will to do as he pleased.​

But free will didn’t meant being free.​

The Demon of Enfer, that was how they used to call his sister in court. A dreadful creature with a iron-will, bloodthirsty, cruel and without any care for others, although that last part Fredo usually disagreed, he saw how she cared for her pets, her odd little pets and she also cared about him, at least he wanted to believe so. His sister had a good reason to send him to that place, she told him he was to achieve experience and grow as a warrior in the eyes of her fellow comrades of the New Imperial Order. Again, he didn’t cared about that. Politics were too boring for him, he loved fighting, he rejoiced in challenging great warriors to fight against him, he loved the thrill of waging his weapons against his enemies, but he hated killing them, he truly hated that. But something were inevitable, even now.​

His harsh fingers finished strapping up his gear, he was still trying the new things that he purchased from iBorg, a lot of enhancement for a boring prince that wanted only to have a good time. ‘Sith are bad, they are some serious business…’, he told himself watching as his little elf flew around him checking up his gear.​

“You are all set.”, she said in that little shrill voice. Raising her thumb towards him with a smile on her pale lips.​

“Aye, aye…”, his voice sounded distant, like a fading dream. “but still… damn it…”, he whined as a curse. “I wanted a drink.”​

“Nonsense!”, Leliana said immediately, pointing her index finger straight at his face. “Get your klarg together and get to field, soldier!”​

“Aye, aye…”, he agreed immediately, his feet began moving towards the elevator. With him, there was only four Augur-class ISB drones and Leliana, not like Fredo cared, he was better off alone than with a bunch of soldiers relying on him. “Let’s get this party started.”​

As soon as he noticed, he was in the middle of hell itself. Right at the center of the stronghold he noticed a lot of those imperial troopers running and preparing their ground. Things weren’t as good for the New Imps as they liked us to believe, apparently the Sith were decided to make their stand and bring havoc upon this side of the galaxy, to conquer and to destroy, the Sith wanted to destroy this New Order, burn their planets, kill those rebels and annex their side of the galaxy back to their good graces. He heard this was payback for what the Imps did in Muunilinst or Mygeeto, wherever those places were.​

“They are coming, Fredo!”, Leliana yelled at his side.​

Fredo slipped his right straight to the long-handle of his lightsaber. Lifting that monster high, as he raised his right arm, his forearm wrapped with his shield gauntlet, his fingers entwined around the hand canon, taking his aim, he pressed the trigger against his will, watching as a single shot of the disruptor mode pierced through a troopers helmet, and in a moment, his armor fell to the ground as if he never wore the damn thing, except for all the dust left from his former flesh. His thumb pressed the button on the saber, allowing the huge ice blue blade to light the room as he jumped across the barricade and marched alongside the Imps, running like a wild nexu, he swinged his arm in a single slash, cutting two Sith troopers in half in a single blow against their waists.​

Slamming his feet on the ground and swinging his saber once again, cutting a troopers head off. Fredo took the opportunity to empale the trooper by his chest, piercing through another one behind him before trying to pull his saber.​

“DAMNED KID!", a soldier yelled at his side raising his rifle towards him, he was fast, but not faster than he was. The last thing the trooper saw, was the barrel of his cannon firing between his eyebrows, turning him into a pile of smoke. Fredo twitched his lips in a frown, he hated doing this.​

"Tsc...", but still, he did it all again.

​

Spoiler: gear

Long-handle lightsaber, HG-88 'Big Iron' Hand Cannon, 1x The Ismaren Cloaking Implant, 1x The InTouch Palm Comlink right hand, 1x The Staredown Prosthetic Eye right eye, 1x The Postcog Artificial Eye left eye, 1x The Steadfast pain damper, 1x Nyax Arm Cannon with 1x Hex Grip both on my left arm.​

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: The Liar //:
//: Borosk //:
//: Deliver the Intel //:
//: Ryv //: Loske Treicolt //: Adriana Fortemps

All I thought I was - was a mistake. ​

Emerald eyes fluttered open, staring at the room that had become familiar to one, but not to her. The room spun as the sun dimly cracked through the curtains, dancing across the slender frame of the sheet tangled mess. Shadows of the ceiling fan scattered as it turned, the cool breeze ruffled against the sheets as she continued to stare. The feeling of her body felt foreign and unnatural. Almost as if she had gone on an extended vacation, absent from the everyday moments, and suddenly found herself back in her skin lost. Allyson blinked, watching the fan spin around and around. ​

Breathing was hard, something or someone weighed upon her chest as she suddenly became aware of more than just the ceiling. The tangle of sheets bound her and another together, raising an eyebrow her gaze followed the silhouette of a slender frame, kisses and soft pale pink lipstick adorned it lovingly. Her vision hazed, and Allyson watched as the room changed shifting and twisting. The pale sun poured into the room still next to the same, but different shape. The same silver mane flowed over her form and the same soft pink lipstick dancing along the porcelain skin. The room was different, and eyes met the hazy shapes of diverse fauna found on Kashyyyk. The smell of sweet cinnamon and sugar lingered in the humid air of the jungle planet. A hand reached timidly towards the shape, but as she felt the warmth of flesh under her fingertips, once more, the haze came fading the memory from her eyes as she whispered a name that hung on her lips - one she hadn't spoken in years. The name cut deep into her core as she felt her body and mind being sucked through a spiraling warp—a brief moment as if a memory that she hadn't thought of in years appeared. ​

Tightly nestled in a pod, she inhaled the delicate scent of sand and the beach. Blonde hair rested against her face, and tears flowed from her eyes, a memory that had been locked away behind torment. Allyson felt the small frame rest against her, and the love she hadn't felt in an eternity swell inside of her. A hand brushed aside the blonde hair as she looked upon a face she thought she forgot. Fire orange eyes stared back at her, and as quickly as she appeared, Kaili Talith was ripped from her once again.​

The room continued to spine until her hand pulled away from the body beside her. Raven hair ruffled as the body moved, rolling over and pulling her closer. His lips brushed against her face as she felt the familiarity in his hold. She had missed it; a sense of happiness washed over the Corellian as she melted into his grip. As much as she loved him and wanted this happy ending, something was holding her back. Looking into his face, the memory faded, and she was thrust back onto the fields of Muunilist. Gasping, fighting for her life as she could feel everyone around her dying. ​

A shadow figured loomed over her, its face hidden as a bright red blade ignited between them. "Choose." The deep voice that haunted her worst nightmares echoed in her mind as the battlefield faded, and she was left in a room. Hundreds of faces stared back at her as she looked around, trying to pinpoint and name them all. Some were her own reflections, others were the faces of those she had killed to survive or had been contracted to kill, and others were blank as she couldn't remember their significance. Among the faces, she could see the faces of those she had lost, her parents, Ember, Arisa, and Kaili. She moved running to the ones she recognized, they faded, and she was left with only those of her own identities. Each stared at her, taking a step forward, and Allyson tried to close her eyes. They all represented a part of her life, another mission that she had to do for the galaxy's greater good. "Choose." Her own voice demanded the same request, and there was no clear answer. ​

The floor disappeared out from under her, and she fell into an endless void. As she fell, Allyson found herself reliving moments in each of her lives over and over, no matter the amount of pain she felt from them. Her parents dying, the feeling of her mother's last breath cutting through her as if she had experienced death herself. The assassinations ordered by contractors in exchange for information in the unknown region, each face of her murders twisting and demanding justice. Allyson felt the ground under her feet as she landed in the darkness. The smell entered her nose as she looked around at the pitch blackness and soon recognized where she was. A tightness in her chest strangled her lungs as panic settled into her mind. How had she returned here? The quiet dripping mixed with the occasional scream reminding Allyson of the prison on Bastion.​

"Choose." ​

Metal clamps echoed in the back of her mind, she could feel them tight around her wrists and ankles. Body suspended above the brick and mortar cell, Allyson felt the panic as she looked to find him. She could smell the death that was coming for her. Had she messed up, had she failed her mission? A figure entered the cell, shrouded in shadows. Allyson tried to scream, knowing all too well what came next. The same nightmare plagued her for years, each time the Dark Lord won. He captured her, he tortured her, and she had to watch everyone she loved die. The images of her friends, Loske, Maynard, Jyoti - all of them dead. Ryv murdered in front of her eyes, and all of their last words condemning her. ​

She was a spy, her life was meant to be lived alone, and she continued to bring people into it - each of them facing the same fate because of her inability to keep her distance. Allyson knew she should be alone, but the loneliness was too much for her to bear. Tears stained her face as she watched the figure murder her friends, a new face appeared one that she felt connecting with her deeply. Amber eyes stared back at her, and Allyson felt her mind shake itself awake. ​

Emerald eyes opened, staring back at the ceiling she had grown familiar with. A ceiling fan spun absentmindedly as it reflected off the sunlight that poured into the room. Rae looked over and blinked, the dream had been one she had been dreaming for some time now. She didn't understand it but somewhere inside of her, she knew exactly what it was. Something or someone inside of her was hurting, but she did all she could to protect them. She felt the weight of another pressed against her, and a hand ran delicately through the strands of silver hair. "Jorryn." She smiled as she spoke the name no louder than a whisper. ​

A moment of peace and the haze returned, Allyson exhaled and felt the dread of the day. ​

The swoop bike sped through the landscape. Allyson had convinced Jorryn to allow her to scout some of the abandoned construction ruins for any New Imperial soldiers. The ruins made an excellent location for a possible counter-strike, but Allyson knew better. She had been able to send words of the invasion back to the Alliance, back to Ryv and everyone who she hadn't spoken to in some time. Nerves bundled in her gut as she parked the swoop bike and stared at the control panel. Nerves continued knowing that she was putting him in danger once more, but the desire to see him nearly crushed her. ​

Swinging her leg over, she entered the ill-constructed building. A hand dragged along the panels as she rounded the corner. She could sense him, feel him through the Force, and their bond. Seeing the outline of the shadow, his body cast against the wall. Smiling, Allyson moved closer and fought the urge to run to him. Keeping control of herself she moved closer, Allyson looked nothing like she typically did. Her attire, the fabric of the Sith Empire, but the same bright face and smile of the Corellian stared back at the Kiffar Knight. Reminding herself that she was Allyson Locke, her natural Corellian voice sang over in a whisper to the man, "Ryv, is that you?"​

 

[LT-137]

Location: Thyrsian Cruiser -> HIMS Baleful; Breached Interior.
Primary Objective: Headhunt Sith Command Staff.
Secondary Objective: Sabotage the HIMS Baleful.
Allies: Thyrsian Sun Guard, New Imperial Order.
Enemies: The Sith Empire.
Equipment: See the Link in the Signature. Note: No Primary Weapon(s.)
Complement: One Aiglos Spearship, One Cohort of Sun Guard (~ Four Phalanxes of Five.) - Background NPC's.

​

The counter-assault of Borosk wasn't entirely unexpected. At least, not to the Supreme Sun Guardian.

He knew that the New Imperial Order was throwing everything it had to break open the most heavily defended sectors within the Sith Empire's clutches. However, the paper tiger wouldn't go quietly into the night, as many hoped. Instead, the Sith-Imperial Armada took advantage of their Rebellious Kin's overextended reach, striking at the world of Borosk in the hopes of severing the supply lines to the distant front. It was a smart offensive, the man had to give them that. It the Sith succeeded here - that would pose a danger to the entire Braxtant Offensive. With the odds stacked against them, it was only natural that the New Imperial Order sought out the Scions of Thyrsus to supplement the might of their Garrison. Once the accord was struck, and the collective accounts of the Sun Guard were filled to bursting, a nearby Sub-Spear of Classis I was dispatched to render what aid they could.

Several Thyrsian Warships joined the orbiting New Imperial Defence Fleet as the first wave of Sith-Imperial vessels arrived in-system - engaging whatever targets came into range of their exotic array of weapons. The opening stages of the battle were bitterly fierce, with neither side willing to give ground. The Tactics of the Sith Empire seemed reckless at first. They established a web of artificial gravity wells, spawned from a selection of Interdictors, to trap their rebellious kin in the system. However, in so doing, they confined themselves in the same spatial arena as the enemy. It was likely that Sith-Imperial Command issued orders that ran along the lines of an all-or-nothing assault, which gave rise to the almost… bestial nature of their offensive. This wasn't the Sith Empire that Khonsu remembered. They were different now. It was clear to him that madness reigned in the Court of the Emperor. The lives of every soul ensnared by Sith-Imperial Propaganda was akin to coins - callously wasted in the pursuit of poisonous ambition.

The Sith Empire was akin to a rabid beast, and it was only fitting that they be put out of their misery. Such reasoning was why Khonsu himself elected to join his comrades on this newly established front. All of his worries of the reconstituted Echani Compact faded away as his mind filled with the aspirations of slaying those that dared to pull his strings. No more would he be treated like a puppet. His fate and that of his people was his own. So, when an opportunity presented itself in the form of a massive Sith-Imperial Star Destroyer - momentarily disabled and stripped of its shields - Khonsu seized the moment.

Gathering several of his warriors, the Thyrsian Warlord sallied forth from the depths of a nearby Thyrsian Cruiser on gilded wings. Their approach didn't go unnoticed - as a handful of New Imperial Vessels sought to exploit the massive Destroyer's vulnerable state. Squadrons of Starfighters from either side took to the stars to either protect their opportunistic brethren or destroy the enemy boarders long before they reached their destination. The heavens above Borosk filled with a kaleidoscopic array of blinding colours as the two forces met in frenzied earnest. Countless metallic steeds bore their riders into the fray, only to explosively blossom into fiery metallic flowers as their formations broke apart and reformed amid the ensuing conflict.

Stuttering plasmatic impacts bracketed the armoured exterior of the Spearship as it homed onto its distant target. While the vessel was unshielded, the thick armoured hide bore the assault's brunt with relative ease. The metallic husk wouldn't last long enough for the ship to make a return journey, but should the Sun Guard seated within be successful in their task - they wouldn't need to worry about such trivial details. When the transport finally closed in on the disabled Sith-Imperial Destroyer, the interior of the Spearship was suddenly bathed with a crimson luminance - casting the power armoured Thyrsian Mercenaries in an arterial carnelian and hewn basalt.

:: Fourty Seconds to Target, :: The Droid Pilot intoned. :: Interception missiles launching. Prepare to Breach. ::​

The Coterie of Sun Guard braced themselves with practiced ease, activating the armour's magnetic soles and gripping the crash webbing above their collective heads. A subtle thrum rippled throughout the Spearship as the vessel discharged its entire complement of nano missiles - shooting down the errant warheads and the odd starfighter seeking to deny Khonsu of his prize. When they were within range - that subtle thrum transformed into a thunderous cacophony as the solarized disruptor accrued it's lethality and unleashed its deadly payload. A relatively small portion of the massive Star Destroyer vanished in a deflagrating blink of an eye, as the exterior armour plating was prepared for the Sun Guard's violent arrival. Following its programming, the Droid Pilot pushed the Spearship's accelerator to the limit - giving the transport that last ounce of fusial thrust to punch deep into the proverbial heart of the Sith-Imperial Warship.

:: Brace. Brace. Brac- ::​

Living up to its name, the Spearship perforated the armoured hide of the 'Baleful,' driving it's armoured hide through a handful of spinal corridors before it's momentum was slowly arrested by the Warship's skeletal structure.

​

As the damaged assault ramp's of the Spearship yawned open, the Supreme Sun Guardian was the first of his Cadre to disembark. His dark eyes, bathed in the false-firelight of his helmet's visor, scanned their surroundings as the others crawled forth from the transport's damaged interior. While the Warlord wasn't overly familiar with the Sith-Imperial Warship's internal schematics, the man wagered that they were several decks above the ventral hangar bays - closer to where the engineering decks would supposedly be located. Adding in the massive amount of structural damage that formed a majority of his immediate vicinity - it was likely that such estimations were wholly inaccurate. Their first objective, Khonsu thought, would be to locate and access a secured terminal to get their bearings. That, sadly, would be easier said than done.

Nevertheless, the Thyrsian Warlord knew that his goals would never be achieved by standing around and waiting for the enemy to appear. With practiced ease, the Sun Guard drew the two halves of his bifurcated Solar glaive and ignited the bill-hooked blades with a depression of the activation plate.

Such an entrance would undoubtedly garner the attention of the Warship's Command Staff. If the Sith Empire's engagement protocols didn't change - in regards to their Starships being boarded - they would likely send the Chaff to be culled in the hopes of bogging down the enemy. It was a viable strategy, as the cannon fodder would tie up the myriad boarding parties until the Sith's heavy hitters managed to arrive and ideally repulse their uninvited guests. Khonsu and several of his Cadre had the distinct pleasure of fighting alongside the Sith Empire for years - and during that time… the Sun Guard watched and studied their newfound prey. With such thoughts dominating his mind during their arduous transit across the spatial battlefield - the Thyrsian Warlord chose a weapon that would allow him to scythe through the expected fodder with all the alacrity his armoured form could muster.

Casting his armoured gaze over his shoulder, Khonsu ordered his Cadre to break into their Phalanxes - or more commonly known as Squads in less foreign militaries - and sow the seeds of Chaos throughout the Warship. A passing glance fell upon armoured wraith before the Thyrsian's eyes fell onto a pair of warriors. One, the Warlord recognized from previous encounters and shared battlefields, whilst the other was a face - clad in the armour of the Sun Guard - that was wholly new to him.

"You two," Khonsu said with the ignited tip of his glaive picking them out from the separating crowd. "You're with me. We're going to take over the Engineering Deck, wherever that may be, and shunt power away from the primary systems."

"That should be enough to draw out worthy prey."​

| Théodoro | Lucien Dooku |
| Ingrid L'lerim | AMCO | Kiber Dorn |
Special shoutout to Ra Vizsla for the Header PSD.​