Invasion No Quarter | NIO Invasion of TSE held Dantooine

[Djorn Bline]

D I A M O N D _ S N A K E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
501ST STORMTROOPER LEGION
71ST GHOST VIPERS | PYTHON COMPANY
TASK FORCE 'AXIS'
ARMOR | RIFLE | PISTOL | MELEE | GRENADES

HIGH HOPES​

The ringing echoes splitting the horizon filled his ears, his eyes focused which coordinated the rest of his body in laying waste to the Dark Lord that stood afar from Djorn and the rest of Axis. He held too long on the trigger of his blaster rifle, emptying out the cartridge of particle beam bolts out on the Zambrano. Too long that the accuracy of his aim began to lose quality. They had to bury this vile presence that plagued the Galaxy, or die trying. Or else who would? The Confederacy and their preaches of freedom and justice? Preaches that were disqualified when they had done nothing to counter the influence of the Sith, only to side with them that would just spat on those oppressed and subjugated by the Sith. The Silver Jedi? When they had grown fat and lazy in crusading against the Dark, throwing aside their oaths as their Jedi followed the ranks of the Sith against the New Imperials. These supposed protectors and guardians against the Dark Curtain of the Sith were no longer counted on.

The Age of Defiance by the New Imperials would wrought freeing the will and future from those underneath the reigns of these Sith Overlords.

Darkness fell on Bastion.

Dantooine would be first stab in the earth to realize the grave of the Sith Code.

The suppressing barrage from their blasters proved to be futile, blaster bolts that led to one’s own mortality was useless against the hide of Prazutis. It was frustrating to see, knowing their weapons were useless against the behemoth’s corrupt powers of the Dark Side. That same power that made those of his ilk feel supreme and above their mortal subjects. But even then, Djorn couldn’t help but reload another cartridge in his rifle and continue firing at the Sith’ari. His eyes were distracted for a moment as he glanced over at the Imperator as he dropped his own rifle, standing with hands empty at their target.

<“Boss, what’s going on?”> but it seemed his question fell on deaf ears as he didn’t earn a reply from Tavlar. Instead the man held a grenade in his hands and turned to face his subordinate lieutenants of this Task Force they courageously led through the bloody streets of Garang up until this moment.

And then...

<"I'm ending it...">​

Snake’s eyes widened, mouth open knowing what Irveric was meaning to do. His expression was veiled underneath his helmet, but he knew him, Tyrell, and Jaeger carried that same expression with those words. Committed to his words Irveric moved with a sprint behind his legs to bring the end of this entity of evil.

<“Dammit, no!”>​

His own rifle fell from his hands as he ran with urgency towards the Imperator. Urgent to stop this suicidal plan of his from being accomplished. They couldn’t risk this loss for their sake. Irveric’s intentions were well, but it wasn’t worth doing so. There had to be another way.

Snake upon closing in tackled Irveric from behind, wrapping his arms around the torso of the man and used his weight to pull the two men into the ground. He knew the man would stop at nothing to do what he set out. He demonstrated that well when he turned his back against the Sith only to return with a wake of Defiance that challenged the false gods, exposing that these fiends were nothing to fear of even if they had all the power in the Galaxy. Every muscle in his body would focus on keep the Imperator on the ground with him, knowing that Tavlar would push off and do anything to escape Djorn’s grapple.

<“Not like this, Boss! Not like this! There’s another way! We just have to find it!”>

<“Jaeger! Tyrell! Do something dammit!”> his own words matched his struggle in wrestling Irveric from his feet, calling for his comrades to do something to help him.


ALLIES | NIO | NJO | SOM | Irveric Tavlar | Jaeger Harrsk | Tyrell Paxxus | Lucien Dooku | Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt | Hunter Blackburn | Ravraa Vyshraal | Rika Hiro | Tulan Kor | Vostok Grauv | Rexus Wenck | Gedeon Rath | Dhuzgnar | Sturit Goan

ENEMIES | TSE | THE ELDER COMPACT | Darth Prazutis | Taiia Locke | Luna Terrik | Aurelion Nova | Gerwald Lechner | Redd | Aiden Wolf | Lavria Xedrim | Telis Taharin-Zambrano

 

[Tyrell Paxxus]

G R A N D _ V I Z I E R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION
TASK FORCE 'AXIS'
PATRIARCH-ACTUAL

[ PEACE WALKER ]
​

An entire tibanna magazine emptied, yet the Darkness appeared entirely unphased. This was the power of the Sith. For men like him, it was a futile endeavor to lick their boots, let alone kill them. Or so they'd tell you. Kyber Dark had proven that these beasts bleed. If they didn't before, the New Imperials had made them. A Sith is still a man. A sick, distorted image of a man, but a man nonetheless.

Tyrell reached for another canister, stopping in his tracks to a pain in his upper abdomen. He looked down to where the sniper had struck previously. Where once he thought his plastoid had saved him. there was now a deep crimson. When his eyes laid upon it, so too did the pain start. Adrenaline, Determination, The Force, they'd spared him this hindrance. But now, in the face of the abyss, they too faltered.

<"I'm ending it...">​

Tyrell turned towards Irveric, bearing witness to his murderous and suicidal intent. It didn't take the Grand Vizier by surprise. This had all started as Irveric's zealous crusade against the Sith. It had blossomed into something greater, but he was an Imperial. Imperials had long memories, and the Imperator never forgets. Carnifex. Prazitus. Vornskr. Avernus. Vexen. Their blood was the carrot on the end of the Imperator's stick. He was hungry for more.

Djorn's refusal wasn't a surprise ever. Ever the straight man, Snake wouldn't stand for such a rash action, even on the orders of the Imperator himself. Tyrell slapped the side of his helmet as they struggled, forcing his scrambled HUD back into a clear view. A warning indicator blinked with a forboding red. His monitored vitals looked grim. A mortal wound. The old wolf wasn't certain how he remained standing.

<Jaeger! Tyrell! Do something dammit!>​

A firm grasp was laid upon Irveric's shoulder. Tyrell began to move forward, pulling a void grenade from the Imperator's belt. He held out his hand, index and thumb wrapped around the anti-force explosive while his remaining extremities extended outward to inflect his request to halt. Tyrell shook his head slowly.

"I'm sorry, son," he uttered with a pained rasp in his voice. Tyrell had known for longer than he should have omitted. The fatherless boy from Dantooine had come from the blood of a young Imperial upstart. His blood. A woman on Dantooine meant little forty years ago. Had he known the folly of his indulgence, things might have been different.

Dantooine would be his proving ground. His apology. The segue to the recompense for his oblivious transgression. Litte ever went to plan. The New Imperials never had the luxury of assurance. Now was no different.

Tyrell tapped the control pad on his wrist with his free fingers. A phased array comms signal crept beneath the garrisons interference. A targeting beacon. Coordinate; Patriarch-Actual, Grand Vizier. Every New-Imperial HUD and Tank Reticle on Dantooine would come alight with the signal. The time was extremely nigh.

"If I had known-" Tyrell paused, sighing softly. "If Kyla still lives, tell her I'm sorry."

"We didn't start this fight to become them. We started this fight to prove ourselves their betters."
"Remember."​

Tyrell remembered. He'd nearly forgotten, but not now. The Grand Vizier looked to Jaegar. He gave the Commissioner a knowing nod. He knew what needed to be done. He pulled the pin as he turned his back, eyes lingering over his comrades for one last look.

He began to march forward.

His fist gripped the safety clip on the void grenade as he marched on. Closer and closer he approached the abyss. The Lord of Lies. The targeting beacon coordinates shifting with every step he took. It was times like these men searched for solace. Tyrell remembered a curious mantra that many had used to comfort themselves in the face of the end.

"There is no death. There is the force."

Tyrell's grip on the pin loosened. With a click, the Void Grenade primed.

He began to sprint.

Irveric Tavlar | Jaeger Harrsk | Djorn Bline | Sturit Goan
Darth Prazutis​

 

[Jaeger Harrsk]

H E L L I O N
A SQUADRON, 1ST SOD
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
TASK FORCE 'AXIS'
G R E A T _ W A R

​

Jaeger lowered his shatter rifle, the futility of his attacks against the Dark Lord cracking a grimace of desperation across his face. Explosions tore the ground around them as new reinforcements of the Sith arrived seeking to overwhelm and dismantle the promethean deed of Task Force Axis. He recalled the same feeling of helplessness back in his day as a One Sith intelligence officer - the constriction of breath, the telekinetic tussles and other psychological abuses from the 'Gods' he had once served. No matter the resistance, the insubordination, the desire to defy; it all led to the same outcome as the one witnessed now.

The unjust hand of omnipotence.

<"I'm ending it...">

The Commissioner tilted his head to see the Imperator lunge towards the behemoth figure of the Dark Lord of the Sith, only to be tackled by Djorn. Paxus, on the other hand, stood brooding. Desperation had befallen the four Imperials. They had given it all to reach the head of the Sith and chop it off; Tulan Kor and Demon Company's suicidal attack, Spearhead's ceaseless sacrifices as they dragged through the city of Garang in an odds of a whole galaxy stacked against them. Only to be slammed by the harshest of truths - they were still mortals.

Pawns.

He blinked as Tyrell suddenly escaped the ensnarement and revealed who he actually was. The Grand Vizier parted with his barely held down by Djorn son and gave a nod to Jaeger. The enigmatic Commissioner nodded back curtly. He knew exactly what he had to do.

Pawns can only move forward.

"Djorn, kickstart your repulsors. Take the Imperator and let's go! It's time to end this."

Jaeger glanced at the ever-fighting Irveric, the emotional, yet clear-headed Djorn, and the charging back of Tyrell. He was the cold, the composed, the methodical. The New Imperial's own dark monster. He'd given the order to sacrifice Demon Company, and once brother-in-arms Tulan Kor. He was the man to bear the burden of decisions conjuring nightmares and haunting him till his grave.

For the Order, he would bear a thousand more.

The scars on his face cracked deeper as he activated his comms:

<"Agent Yubari, Agent Grauv - this is your final order."> he barely paused. Emotions had to be buried beneath. <"Activate the charges."> yet another good man and...droid put under the knife for a cause greater than all.

The Commissioner shifted his eyes at Paxus' last command. He would die weapon in hand. His name and his deeds will scorch the land. His and theirs. Kor, Yubari, Grauv, and the hundreds of thousands who had given their lives in the struggle against the genocidal and unjust rule of Sith.

No cost was too high if it meant ridding the galaxy of this evil.

<"Feral Actual, this is Hellion-Actual.">

<"Requesting immediate fire mission.">

​

<"Adjust target coordinate...">

<"Patriarch-Actual...">​

<"The Grand Vizier.">

<"Fire for effect.">​

​

One final salute.

NIO | ALLIES | Irveric Tavlar | Djorn Bline | Tulan Kor | Rika Hiro | Vostok Grauv | Tyrell Paxxus | Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt | Lucien Dooku | Dhuzgnar
TSE | ENEMIES | ENGAGING Darth Prazutis
CIS | Taiia Locke | Luna Terrik | Gerwald Lechner | Redd

 

[Syd Celsius]

A lot of emotions raged in Syd at the moment. Fury at Cotan for taking the Boy's arm. Fury at herself for not being there to help and not doing more to stop Starlin Rand from trying to take artifacts. Guilt that she had not prepared him adequately for such a battle, in the very heart of darkness.

The shreds of the Dead Darth Phyre in her hissed, urged her to lash out in revenge on Cotan Sar'andor , to barbeque him harder than Peter Fonda did to Nicholas Cage in Ghost Rider, before they did that sequel with Heimdall. To chop him up into little tiny bits.

She studied him, trembling as her blade was pointed at him, her unnaturally beautiful, oil painting looks forever out of place in this godless environ, Cotan's face reflected in the chromium polish of her gold and navy blue suit.

It was not until Starlin's words cut through that she at last stopped.

"No Syd..."

She turned to him, tears still streaming down his face. The shreds of Darth Phyre were silenced by his plea. She got control if herself.

He was right. To stay would cost the both of them more than it already had. The evil of this place amplified her emotions in spite of her most sincere attempts to stay in control. If she stayed and fought, she was certain she would give in to the Dark Side, and that would doom her, Starlin, and her beloved Laertia, who fought for both of them against the Sword of the Jedi.

A Jedi must know when further fighting is counterproductive.

She sent a message mentally to her beloved: She couldn't stay, the temple was affecting her too much. Laertia had simply sent back a feeling of understanding, love, and worry.

To recreate Darth Phyre would make everything worse. It hurt Syd to hide so much from Laertia, just like she knew it hurt Laertia to hide so much from her.

Syd took Starlin's remaining hand, eyes wet with guilt and flew off into the sky to evacuate him, weeping at how she had failed everyone today, but most especially Starlin. Laertia knew the risks. Starlin had just discovered consequences in the worst way possible, and she wanted to damn herself for it.

She flew them both away to get him treatment, hoping against hope the arm could be reattached. If not, she would call on every unnatural law she knew until the arm had no choice in the matter...

 

[Mishel Kryze]

Force Light completed, Mishel was down on her knees while she felt the heat of the light rise off her body. Smoke rose and a sharp pain ran throughout her person, her eyes remained blind. Kriff, way to go Mishel, way to go now you're kriffing blind. How long the blindness would last she wasn't sure. Here I always thought if I did that other thing with my hand I'd end up blind. She felt around her body for her communicator. "Lav, Lav! Hey! Come get me, and use the goggles, no the other goggles, yeah - c'mon and amp up the tunes will you? Why? I'm kriffing blind, you matted piece of fur. Oh, now that's insulting?" ​

​

Leave it to the Selonian to mouthback.​

​

Then again, Selonians were just furry Corellians so talking back was definitely built into the DNA. ​

​

Meanwhile Mishel with her eyes still illuminated in a pure white reached out to the Force and listened to what was around her as she steadily rose to her feet. "Ah, kriff there went the jacket..." She could feel and smell the burnt leather and dusted it off of her person. Lav radioed in and mentioned he was getting closer. Mishel had no idea where the big ugly thing went but she gathered he got the heck out of there before the light was dropped. Sight wasn't exactly what she had but using sounds and the Force, Mishel put together a haphazard radar of sorts. Distorted black and white images of what was around her.​

​

It wasn't until the vibrations from the Princess Leia's sound system that a clearer picture was painted. "All I wanted was to get some kriffing crystals, but no, had some big ugly thing come yell at me and try swingin' his big stick." The Tygaran cursed whilst bending down and scooping up what she hoped were crystals but may as well have been stones. As the Leia got closer the sweet, sweet tunes got louder and the cavern ceiling cracked even further. Mishel's instincts kicked in and she managed to avoid most of them.​

​

"OW!" Yelped Mishel as she rubbed her head, "mind the face will you? Also, I don't have that many brain cells left for you to just, drop ro-" Mishel's voice was cut off as the Selonian took her by the arms up from the cavern. "THE ACTUAL KRIFF LAV! WHADDYA MEAN IT'S TOO HOSTILE TO LAND HERE? HOW MANY GRAU- OH THOSE GUYS!"​

​

"Right." Mishel conceded, as the Selonian pulled her into the ship like a stuffed toy being won at the crane machine. ​

​

THUD​

​

Mishel came face to face with the durasteel floor of the Princess Leia. "... Lav, can you radio and see who needs a ride off this blasted rock? We'll pick up any that ain't Sith, or playin' the repulsorpuck slide wit'em." The non-Jedi rolled onto her back and just quietly let out a song of her own, tunes. "Everything hurts, everything hurts, whodda thunk that Dantoo brought its A-Game, because in the name of Ashira. Everything hurts." ​

​

An encrypted transmission went out to all those fighting with the New Imperial Order, most especially near the Caverns and the Sith Enclave. "If anyone needs a ride off Dantooine, callsign Jukebox - the Princess Leia will pick you up. We're a small Corellian freighter we can get you back to the Core." All the while the Princess Leia's sound system, sonic amplifier, resonator and frequency modulator would go to work where it could as it lifted away from the crystal cave itself. ​

​

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​

​

NIO | JEDI | ALLIES: Amea Virou | Runi Verin | Loske Treicolt | Maynard Treicolt | Oceiros Sunstrider | Ryv | Shaka Sunstar | Kalika Vaar | Cotan Sar'andor | @Any and All NJO Folk
TSE | ELDER COUNCIL | OPPONENTS: N A N I ?!?!

 

[Sturit Goan]

// FERAL ACTUAL // LIEUTENANT COLONEL GOAN
// OBJECTIVE // ASSAULT ON GARANG CITY // SPEARHEAD
// FOCUS // Irveric Tavlar Djorn Bline Tulan Kor Rika Hiro Vostok Grauv Tyrell Paxxus Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Lucien Dooku Dhuzgnar // ENGAGING // SITH OPPRESSORS // Darth Prazutis Taiia Locke Luna Terrik Gerwald Lechner Redd Telis Taharin-Zambrano // LIBRA GOLD
// EQUIPMENT // Combat Assault Tank Armor Mk. 1, KXR SFR-58 'Bozdugan' Blaster Rifle, REC-DC/04 "Feverwasp" Pattern Particle Blaster Pistol, Miscellaneous Equipment
// BATTALION // 8TH MECHANIZED BATTALION “FERAL BATTALION” // x1 Command Unit, x5 Armor Companies, 56 48 TXV XT-60b Cataphract-class Repulsor Main Battle Tanks, 14 12 All-Terrain Armoured Shield Generators, Miscellaneous Support Vehicles // SAPPER SUPPORT COMPANY // Daros Karmann , TXT XV-60a Armored Personnel Carriers, Engineers //

​

<“The interference -- sir, Axis is still engaged at Libra Gold. We can’t be sure if we have a clear shot.”>

Sturit watched the tacmap. Friendly IFF signals flickered; the Imperator’s still burned bright even as others fell. The spearhead was there and Sturit was ready, but for all their advanced technology they couldn’t fire in blind. Without marked targets, there was always more risk-

<“Sir.”> The lieutenant pointed to the tacmap.

A new signal had popped up. Target mark. One klick.

<"Feral Actual, this is Hellion-Actual.">

<"Requesting immediate fire mission.">

​

<"Adjust target coordinate...">

<"Patriarch-Actual...">​

<"The Grand Vizier.">

<"Fire for effect.">​

He stared at the little glowing dot on the map.

It was then that he realized how detached he was. Not too long ago he’d been sitting in a Cataphract on Muunilist -- so close he could see the enemy, the reflection of his tank on their visors. Now he stood in the command center, only a few words separating him from the death of one of the New Imperial Order’s high command along with the entirety of Libra Gold. To say the word here and watch those signals go quiet over there. With a wave of his hand he could bring thunder down upon the Sith.

He swallowed and suppressed his doubts.

<“Sir-”>

<“Fire,”> he said.

<“Sir? But the Grand-”>

<“All batteries and missiles. Full power. Pincer fire organization from the far end of the base and the target coordinate; trap them in while Axis starts to withdraw. Get Ares 2-1 and 2-2 to push up with the infantry to cover the retreat and keep up the support.”>

The Grand Vizier knew what it meant for him. A last act of defiance as the galaxy set out to crush them. They all knew the cost.

<“I want that base reduced to slag. You have two minutes, lieutenant.”> The conductor silenced the audience. The lieutenant nodded and relayed the orders.

No matter how sturdy Libra Gold was, a barrage from two full companies of Cataphracts would be more than enough to end things.

With a wave of the conductor's hand the symphony began. Three seconds; the guns were at full charge, those instruments of death at the ready. Two more; the first of the MegaCaliber Six turbolaser blasts landed -- half forming a line at the beacon, the other half a line across the far edge of the garrison. By seven, a hail of disruptor torpedoes and brilliant missiles followed up the turbolaser barrage. The reverberations a terrible song by which they sent away so many souls.

The turbolasers fired again.

The tacmap updated. The blips were fewer.

Sturit grimaced.

Another barrage left the spearhead.

 

[Enyo Typhos]

Equipment: Armour, Shotgun, Gas Grenades filled with Berserk, Sidearm 1, Sidearm 2, Sabre, Ion Paddle Beamer, Cryo-Ban Gun.
Writing With: Loske Treicolt , Darth Daiara , Maynard Treicolt

“Reasons by choice, or programming?”

Things transpired in rapid sequence of events, making it difficult even for the metal princess to process them all at once. The Jedi was yanked backwards, pulled towards Endurance by the machine-woman's iron, implacable grip. Her burning violet blade was thrust forward, humming as if in anticipation of the metal it would pierce and the flesh it would sear.

Then the Jedi grabbed ahold of the blade - and her fingers were not severed from her hand. Enyo knew of tutaminis, of course. However, she was caught off-guard by the brazen manoeuvre...especially since it worked. It seemed the Jedi was just as surprised as she was. Energy flowed through the body and bright glow spread through her body as she seemed to siphon the heat from the blade. The Jedi managed to twist away from her embrace, and then a torrent of golden lightning shrieked from her.

Such was the force behind the storm of lightning that a sound like a thunderclap echoed across the enclave as the power unleashed by the Jedi caused a loud boom. The incandescent wave of power slammed into Enyo with such force to knock her backwards, forcing the lightsabre to fall out of her grasp. The revolver she had holstered was rendered nonfunctional. Terminatrix fell to her knees as the power flared through her, overloading systems and blowing up circuits. It was starting to get far too warm inside her brainbox.

She had the presence of mind to pull at the tangled web of power that was the Force. There was no time for a cocoon. Instead, the glow of tutaminis emanated from her to absorb electrical currents, as far as feasible. She channelled it through her already damaged off-hand and used her left arm to shield herself. Her armour's energy shield, designed to ward her against electrical currents, shimmered, absorbing a portion of the stream ere it was overtaxed. Part of the storm was dissipated by the conductive earthing rods. If it had not been for her armour's manifold defences and her strength in the Force, she would have been crippled outright. Her left arm was severely damaged from the blast.

Lightning crawled over her body. But she stood, twitching badly. Endurance rose from the debris-covered, scorched ground and flew back into her hand. She grasped the lightsabre firmly. Igniting it anew, she raised the purple blade in a defensive posture to deflect golden tendrils of electricity shooting towards her. Her eye flashed scarlet. The Terminatrix endured.

As Enyo stood there, twitching but defiant, it did not escape her that the tendrils were still riling up and down the Jedi's arms. The Jedi had significant power, a lot more than her earlier comportment had implied, but could she control it all? The display had the mark of instability. No doubt the cause was different, but Enyo was just a bit reminded of Caoimhe. Their makers had artificially enhanced her brainwashed sister's potential to a point where she had been able to fight Enyo on even terms...at the cost of burning her out.

"Ch-choice." Even with the damaged vocabulator, her tone was as frigid and icy as a snowstorm on Hoth. An aura of darkness roiled around her, though not that of the Sith. Enyo was not the sort to became incandescent with rage or a big ball of immature, infantile fury that expanded until it imploded. Her rage was cold, just as her judgement was.

Then the Force burst from her. It took the form of orange tendrils that crossed the distance towards the Jedi, coming from multiple directions. Force Drain, an old Sith art. However, Enyo's attack was not about stealing the Jedi's power and life force for her own use. Frankly, the latter would not work for her, for she had no flesh to heal. Rather it was the touch of the void.

It meant to drain the power behind the lightning and siphon away the excess Force energy the Jedi seemed to be swimming in. The more the Jedi pushed herself, the more she would seek to siphon away. If she could not tear her power away, she would tire her out, numb her in body and spirit and make it more difficult for her to harness the energies coursing through her.

 

[Lark]

​

Location: Crystal Caves
Writing With: Enlil

Lark remained in his limbo-like angle, though such a vulnerable position left him wide-open for a quick attack. An adrenaline fueled rush of panic fueled his body, and he was able to bring his dagger up quick enough to prevent himself from being split in half. And though his enchanted dagger did not break in the same manner as his sword did, it was not nearly a large enough weapon to deflect the attack entirely. He was able to push the blade to the side, but a nasty gash still ripped apart the right side of his hip. Blood and a few entrails littered the pure cavern floor, and Lark hit the ground hard.

As he writhed on the ground, Lark watched his fractured halves of his blade soar towards Enlil, who was upside-down from Lark's point of view. He lay on his back, doing his best to compress the wound on his side to prevent excessive blood loss. The blade was harmlessly deflected, though the jagged hilt found flesh with a satisfying song of torn skin and ruptured vessels. Though broken, they had served their final purpose as intended. A final drop of blood to nourish its hunger. The blood of a King must be delicious indeed.

And though a dark red pool of scarlet ichor bubbled beneath the wound, the King seemed as unconcerned as Lark did when that burning plasma kissed his pale skin. The handle of the sword rattled on the ground a moment later, and a radiating fire healed the wound. But though the flames healed his flesh, it was not an entirely altruistic fire. Enlil's rage grew as the blaze sew his body back together, and with only an enchanted dagger left for protection, Lark knew that he was likely completely outmatched.

His hair graced the damp cavern floor, slightly getting soaked from lingering moisture and his own puddle of blood. Despite the grievous wound he had suffered, he chuckled softly as he met Enlil's fierce glare. Twirling his knife in his hand, Lark rose and turned to face the golden-haired King. Lark was breathing heavily, though his method of dealing with the wound differed drastically from the King. He focused on the pain, allowing the influence of the Dark Side of the Force to temporarily sustain the wound. It was not a permanent bandage. But it would at least have to last until either Lark escaped or Enlil lay dead.

Standing there, judging him, Lark knew this this was the image of a true monarch. He had held his own, but he knew when his hand was a losing one. Without his sword, it would be nigh impossible to land a killing blow against a weapon as destructive as the one Enlil wielded. Perhaps it was nearing time to fold.

A silent message was made to his Svarrif, who still watched the battle from the heavens, and they heeded his call. The corvian Sithspawn glided into the nearest crevice that led into the caverns, they would help him determine the quickest exit route.

But that would still take time. Normally Lark would attempt to kill a few minutes by saying something vaguely nostalgic or sympathetic, a neighborly conversation that would catch his opponent off-guard. But Enlil was done with frivolous words. His mind was made up.

So be it.

Lark let whatever kindness still lay dormant within him fade away. As he raised his free hand and unleashed a tempest of wicked electricity, his eyes grew as vividly harsh as the King's own. The arc of lightning danced towards the King in the shape of a bramble of thorns, seeking to rend the man's body apart.

 

[Dhuzgnar]

OBJECTIVE I: BREAKING THE CULT HYDRASLAYER

ALLIED OPERATORS - Lucien Dooku Jaeger Harrsk Djorn Bline Tyrell Paxxus Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Hunter Blackburn Irveric Tavlar

PRIMARY TARGET [ENGAGING] - Darth Prazutis

ACCOMPLICES TO THE SHADOW AND UNKNOWNS [ENGAGING] - Gerwald Lechner Redd Aiden Wolf Taiia Locke

t i n y g o d s​

Through the smoke, blaster rifles clattered out bursts of bolts, bounding off and absorbing just as rain would the burning concrete during the hottest months of this agri-world. Shouts of commands, orders tossed aloft by Kant to his squad as they registered the sheer amount of hostiles inside the room with them. All Force Sensitive, all of them had felt the same beat of the planet that Dhuzgnar felt when he entered the room.

Oh, how the narrator would wish to say that Reek Line fought the good fight. How he would wish to say that as actors larger than they would ever be fought back the entire tide of history, they fought alongside them, but that couldn’t be said. As Imperator struggled and mortalistic orders were given, Reek Line simply existed in the void between reasoning and meaning.

Void Grenades. Pop-pop. Dhuzgnar’s mind began to spill. Wild with emotion. Though, his story stopped mattering the moment he made planetfall. The Force has a will, does it not? Dragging souls through their lives.

Dhuzgnar had to die, of course. That was his purpose within the Force.

He was nothing more than scene filler, a background piece given animation, an ascendant extra, as all of Reek Line was.

Life, fickle and wavering, never went as anyone had planned. Exposed to the grandest, myths and legends, only to be background images in the heroic sacrifice of another.

They never even felt the first bolt from the turbolaser.

There is no death, there is only the Force.

Exit stage right, Dhuzgnar and the brave fighting men of Reek Line.

They played their role well, however minor it was in the dance.

Spoiler: REEK LINE COMPOSITION

Kant Kothi | Squad Leader | Umbaran | SE-61x Particle Beam Carbine KIA
Rorurra | Machine Gunner | Wookie | EW-ALE Heavy Weapon Emplacement MEDIVAC
Kragir | Assistant Gunner | Neimoidian | KXR SFR-58 'Bozdugan' Blaster Rifle KIA
Nocrea | Senior Rifleman | Trandoshan | KXR AK-57x Charric Rifle KIA
Dhuzgnar | Rifleman | Nekghoul | KXR SFR-58 'Bozdugan' Blaster Rifle KIA
Valsava | Rifleman | Twi'lek | KXR SFR-58 'Bozdugan' Blaster Rifle KIA
Gexo | Rifleman | Iridonian | KXR SFR-58 'Bozdugan' Blaster Rifle KIA
Khrorokah | Rifleman | Chazrach | KXR SFR-58 'Bozdugan' Blaster Rifle KIA
Theanras | Rifleman | Human | KXR SFR-58 'Bozdugan' Blaster Rifle KIA
Shangith | Rifleman | Human | KXR SFR-58 'Bozdugan' Blaster Rifle KIA

ALL WEARING STRIKE FORCE ARMOR

 

[Frank Sterling]

Objective: destroy the Cataphracts ( Sturit Goan and Daros Karmann )
Frank Would hear the 50 some od turbo lasers from the distance of the air base sound off looking to the others. he spoke lowly. "Lower the power range of the Planetary defense gun." earning a few quizzical looks from those in the room. to which frank answered their unspoken questions. "Their loosing and in their defiance are attempting to overkill the garrison in the process, do we have a rough idea where those shots came from?" Frank asked before looking to the gunner and loader. "yes sir we do."

Frank chuckled Before stating "good lower power output and aim high to compensate for aiming ark i want a creator were those Chucklefucks once were."
Frank smiled coldly as the gun fired knowing full well if these guns were capable of destroying Starships in space then the damage that they could do to a group of tanks would be well worth the pettiness.

 

[Enlil]

A_R_B_I_T_E_R

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER

NEW JEDI ORDER

JEDI IMPERIAL STRIKE TEAM

​

He watched the man flounder and bleed. A wicked satisfaction burned in his gut that mingled with his rage. For a moment, he felt vindicated. The King felt the entire world shudder beneath his gravitas. He stood as a balance, a carefully upheld dictate.

If he gave himself over to that emotion, he failed everyone.

The flames licked his body just a moment longer, not healing but an adequate stem to blood flow. His mind flickered beneath the intolerable pain. It was all he could do to maintain those embers. His breath came sharp, frigid. He exhaled a plume of gray and white.

It was so cold.

Half of him hung limp. If Yula saw him now, he wondered if she would laugh. For all his arrogance, Enlil was not untouchable. He knew that, and yet, he had grievously underestimated Lark. It was not the Sith he was angry with, nor the world.

Again, Enlil raged against himself.

The Sith stood. Enlil allowed it. The man deserved that much.

If he was to die, he should be free to do it on his feet.

Copious strands of hot lightning erupted from Lark's hand. Power flooded the Force. The King felt it before he saw it, and when his mind warned of danger, he swung Dînum. It was a wide, arcing swipe.

When the current slammed against it, something far louder than a thunderclap resounded through the room. It shrieked like a sonic boom, causing the chambers to rumble and shake violently. The electricity fragmented and scattered like a puzzle torn to pieces, unmade.

It was not a subtle thing to swing your blade at fate itself.

Lark had conjured energy through the Force. Enlil had met it with a power that defied the will of creation itself. When these two things met, something horrific occurred.

The energies that coalesced in front of Enlil ripped him off his feet. Flung backward by the sheer magnitude of the blast and proximity, he clutched the blade in a death grip. With this reaction, only Aslu knew what might happen if he dripped Dînum. That could not be allowed to happen.

Sailing through the air, Enlil was powerless to stop himself. Flung into a stalagmite, the bone shattering impact slowed him, but did not stop him. He hit the ground and kept sliding, tearing open cuts and scrapes across his back and chest.

Covered in crimson and blue from bruises, he did not move. The pain was far too great. Everything dimmed as his fingers closed around dirt and rock. As he looked up, the visible wound in the Force fluctuated, twisted, writhed, and pulsated a baleful energy.

"I have erred," he whispered.

The agony was greater than his own, and the pain, suffering, hate, and sorrow of Dantooine itself bled outward as much as it flowed back in. His face was frozen, a picture of horror.

Lark

 

[Kiff Brayde]

S T O R M B R E A K E R

Objective: Try not to die, in Brayde Style
Allies: Verin Oldo | Kyyrk | Taeli Raaf | Thaelius
Enemies: @Robogebe r| Var Koon | Josiah Navollius | Naier Rambeigh | Okkeus Dainlei | Kormov Alten

The space around the Storm King shook as cannon fire erupted all from New Imperial ships around. But all of the New Imperial's ordnance was focused on the fleets of the Sith and Kiff's fellow comrades -- Commander Verin, Lord Commander Voph. Kiff had just offered peace. What the feth was happening?

In contrast to the chaos that was panning out in front of the Storm King's command crew through transparisteel windows, the bridge of the massive Star Dreadnaught was dead silent. Static bursts of dead transmission were intermittently interrupted by bursts of transmissions from all sides. The raving of the New Imperial Grand Admiral. Screams as the crew of the CNS Mormont of Commander Oldo's line were incinerated. None of the bridge was shocked, at least not in that way. They were all veterans of the horrors of a space battle, and they all knew the stakes. Kiff, more so than anyone.

His fist clenched on the rim of the holotable, and he looked down at his whitening knuckles. This was beginning to feel too much like Talay. And he'd lost everything over Talay. He could not let that happen again. "Bragga," he asked quietly, not looking up, "get me an action readout."

Bragga's voice was equally somber. "New Imperial ships and the Lord Commander's fleet opened fire on each other. Data is. . . inconclusive as to say who loosed the first volley. But now, the NIV Tresgessar is moving full steam towards the line of Commander Oldo's forces and the combined Sith Fleet. And they're trading heavy fire with the Lord Commander's task force."

Her next portion of the report was even quieter. "And. . . the path to Dantooine is now clear."

And from her tone, Kiff knew that she too was now aware of the two paths that lay before him and the forces of the Bassadro Sector Armada. They could turn in solidarity with the rest of their fellow Confederates and add their forces to the all-out brawl that had devolved in Datooines orbit. But there were Confederate forces still trapped down below. And if Kiff didn't get them out?

Then who would?

"Your orders, High Marshal?" Bragga tentatively asked.

Kiff finally looked up, his jaw locked and hardened steel in his eyes. "Our original mandate still stands. Full burn to Dantooine."

Bragga nodded. And the crew of the Storm King went back into action.

While the elements of the carrier lines and the massive flagship of the armada, the star dreadnaught herself held the corridor between Dantooine and safety, the 571st Atmospheric Superiority Line began their descent down Dantooine's gravity well. The CNS Dawn Warden, which had previously stood as the flank for the Confederacy forces encroaching on the New Imperial fleet, had now descended to sit in low orbit. Dantooine's sun slowly became blocked out as the massive frame of the Grievous-class Star Destroyer moved in to block it, casting its shadow on the city of Garang below and sending the city into an eclipsed twilight.

Out from on top and under came the swarms of Confederacy craft. Mark III Vulture Droids, flying in clustered swarms as they quickly worked with Colla-class Droid Starfighters to establish air superiority. Occasional flak fire would send a droid starfighter bursting into an explosion of red flame and black smoke, briefly illuminating portions of the eclipsed city, but there would be ten to replace it. Triangulating with each other, the six Miraj-class Heavy Assault Dropships descended at hexagonal points around the massive Star Destroyer. From there, they let loose with their ventrally-mounted light and heavy turbolaser armaments as flex tube launchers flung heavy proton torpedos, ion bombs, and incendiary bombs at New Imperial targets. They were careful not to fire with abandon and meticulously confirmed every target to be military before dooming them to destruction. Low hums filled the air as Starhammer-class Superheavy Bombers soared in squadrons around the airspace, both in and outside of the city, dropping their equally devastating ordnances on New Imperial targets below.

The might of the Confederacy had descended onto Dantooine with its full might on display.

"Verryk," Back in space, Kiff called over the noise of the bridge of the Storm King as he watched the scene play out from the massive holotable that he stood above. Ships and structures large enough like the CNS Dawn Warden were fully rendered, while smaller objects such as starfighters were barely recognizable, mere blips flitting about through the holoprojection. "Get me a comm to the planet. Open frequency. I don't care if the New Imperials know our plan."

"Aye aye," Verryk replied, and a second later he followed it up with, "You're patched in."

Kiff cleared his throat, the same steel in his eyes. "Soldiers of the Confederacy and Sith Empire, this is High Marshal Kiff Brayde of the Confederacy Armed Forces. I urge whoever is still left to get off the planet before there is more death. If you can get civvies -- or you are a civvie -- it's imperative that you make it offworld. I don't know how long my forces can last, but --"

Suddenly a roar of static met his words. Kiff looked, perturbed, over to Verryk, who was slightly cursing. Catching Kiff's eyes, he looked up with a grim look on his face. "Fething New Imperials are jamming us," Verryk said, swearing. "We're trying to get through, but I can't promise anything. Our tech should be taking care of this, but it probably was needing maintenance -- the reason we were dragged out of hyperspace in the first place."

Kiff's face hardened, and he turned his eyes to the transapristeel windows of the bridge from which he could see a panorama of the whole battle. Dantooine on the left, the eclipsing shadow of the Dawn Warden barely visible from the distance. And the crescendoing roar of cannons as the New Imperial, Confederate, and Sith fleets traded fire.

"Feth it all."

Spoiler: Fleet Composition

Task Force Cerulean Seal
Flagship

• CNS Storm King [100% Shields, 100% Structure]​

531st Carrier Line

• x1 Lucrehulk III-class Supercarrier
  • CNS Arkham Nights [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
• x2 Argente-class Assault Cruisers
  • CNS Awakened [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Carrion Pillar [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
• x4 Murkhana-class Escort Frigates
  • CNS Silver Wings [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Destined Call [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Cryptologyst [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Tanaab [100% Shields, 100% Structure]

532nd Carrier Line

• x1 Lucrehulk III-class Supercarrier
  • CNS Golden Requiem [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
• x2 Argente-class Assault Cruisers
  • CNS Dark Rapture [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS High Covenant [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
• x4 Murkhana-class Escort Frigates
  • CNS Samovar [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Elder Call [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Traitor’s Plea [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Corvassa [100% Shields, 100% Structure]

571st Atmospheric Superiority Line

• x1 Grievous-class Star Destroyer
  • CNS Dawn Warden [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
• x4 Terrus-class Flak Corvettes
  • CNS Strikefast [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Noctus [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Xalinga [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Koyerti [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
• x6 Miraj-class Heavy Assault Dropships
  • CNS Cleaver [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Amenable [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Gleaning [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Exarch's Kiss [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Lady Talon [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
  • CNS Morrow [100% Shields, 100% Structure]
• Squadrons of Variable Geometry Self-Propelled Battle Droids, Mk III
• Squadrons of Colla-class Droid Tri-Fighters
• Squadrons of RMS-BC11 Starhammer-class Superheavy Bombers

Spoiler: Fleet Actions

• The entirety of the 571st Atmospheric Superiority Line (excluding flak corvettes) has descended into low orbit of Dantooine.
  • The CNS Dawn Warden is hovering over Garang, and is currently eclipsing the city.
  • The Miraj-class Heavy Assault Dropships have descended around the Dawn Warden in hexagonal points and are currently opening fire on New Imperial forces, taking extreme caution to hit military targets only.
  • Mk III Vulture Droids and Colla-clas Droid Tri-fighters are establishing air superiority over Garang.
  • RMS-B11 Starhammer-class Superheavy Bombers are making runs against New Imperial positions both in and out of the city, taking extreme caution to hit military targets only.
  • The assets of the Line have been given by Kiff to friendly forces to use to evacuate. For now, the connection has been cut off with the Line and the Storm King.
• The remainder of Kiff's forces are securing a corridor from Dantooine to space far enough out from Dantooine's gravity well that a hyperspace jump is possible (the position of the Lucrehulk III-class Supercarriers).

​

​

​

​

​

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Spoiler

Wreath of the Sovereign, Lightsabre Pike, Armour + SI-PES

Auteme Sakadi Marathi Sinvala

Normally, Joycelyn carried equipment that kept her safe from the light’s searing powers, but this time she did not. She had not come to Dantooine prepared for war, but to iron out the details of the defensive pact against the Bryn’adul. If she had time, then she would not be standing there in her lightest gear, but the heavy plate-armour she wore to battle. If, if, if. There were many ifs, none of which were at the forefront of Joycelyn’s mind at the time.

What was on her mind was how she could best punish these two Jedi for their insolence.

At the forefront was Sakadi, jumping into Joycelyn’s eye line with an attack of both her blades. It was excelently composed, but not impossible to avoid. Joycelyn’s sabre caught the horizontal slash with her own bloodshine blade and pushed it into the path of the thrust. Since Sakadi was airborne, she was more easily moved than Joycelyn, who had her stance firmly planted on the ground.

She was about to unleash a fierce counterattack, but Auteme’s ray of light hit her first. It sent Joycelyn reeling back. Her shoulders fell hard against a wall as the gold around her head cracked against the light. It may just have been a warding flare, but her skin burned and droplets began to break through. The wreath of golden flames fell from her head.

She was blinded, but she did not need light to hurt these cretins. Tears and blood from her temporary blinding streaked down the sides of her face as she lashed out in immediate retaliation.

A flash, a roar.

The lignan inlay of her spear-shaft glowed like embers, then faded away like ash as she absorbed its power, burning it all away for one more push. Flames ignited around her crown, where the band had been. They crested her body like a thousand little spirits worshipping her every inch. Great, roaring flames surrounded her in a pillar then pushed out in every direction, carried by a tactile force. She was like the epicentre of an explosion of fire and force, lashing out against the two Jedi.

 

[Ruek Tast]

Allies: Iasha Rha | Alina Tremiru
Opposition: Other Space Kaiden 's Graug
Gear: Modified E-11 rifle, Sith-Imperial Legionnaire Combat Armor, vibro-hatchet, glop grenade x0, flashbang x2, incendiary grenade x0
​

It was dark, tasteless, silent, and not a scent present.

Just a void of blue-black hue and a blanket of cold.

Ruek was at the mercy of weightlessness, unable to turn or control her path. But there was little else to see here, just her own body, and that was nothing special at all. What was her red skin was wiped of hue, all color siphoned by the void and replaced with a death-laced cobalt. She pressed both hands to her face, trying to feel something other than the chill which had turned oppressive. This was all that existed after life? Unsurprising, but still bitter news. Her fingers trailed down her arms to her elbows and pulled herself close, closing her eyes to begin the deep sleep.

“Fight, legionnaire!”​

The shout thrummed through the void like thunder and ripped through Ruek's soul, peeling away the death blue that had cast over her form. A pulse struck through her sternum like lightning, a thin string hooking into her chest then going taught. As her path into the unknown halted a hand shot from the dark to grab her wrist. It too was without the stain of the void, matching Ruek's red tinge. If she returned so would he, the voice she had tried to silence, her other half she had denied. So be it. She grabbed his wrist in return, and with the acceptance Ruek felt gravity take hold, sending her spiraling into the depths below.

Ruek woke with a scream as the adrenaline seeped into her heart and she clutched both hands to her curiass. "DAMN IT!"

"It was cold back there, Rue."

Clenched teeth grit in pain and shock until she finally remembered how to breathe..."Damn it!" She threw herself to her knees and tried to get up, legs shaking from the back and forth status of living and dying. Vision blurred she backed against the wall and sent her hands to her belt to search for...no weapons. The howls of Graug filled her ears and she realized it was her helmet that was compromised, the lenses glitching and doubling her vision.

"What kind of situation have you gotten us into now?"

"Shut--uhmph," she held her ribs, "...just help me, Tast."

"Flashbang."

"Right."

Throwing off her helmet she grabbed the grenades then swallowed the pain as she shoved off the wall. There was a demon, a large beast, sent after the acolytes. Her job wasn't done, and Ruek spat the blood from her teeth then charged headlong for the creature. She warned the acolytes before she threw them, hoping the thing didn't understand Basic all too well. "FLASHBANG!" She chucked both of them for the monster's head, herself diving into the dirt then covering her ears.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Equipment​

Armor Taralraiskaz Battle Plate Helm of Malignant Anima Fist of Moridin the Great Weapons Derriphan the Devourer Other Empyrean Gland

"Death is the beginning, not the end."​

​

Fighting back to back, Sunstrider and Fel made a formidable defense against the pressuring sides of Carnifex and Thurion. The tendrils of sickly vampiric energy closed in around the Imperial Knight, only to be dispelled by their combined efforts in the Force and in the physical. Not that it mattered to the once-Emperor, the power he used to conjure such power was stolen, it required none of his own.​

​

He could afford to expend thieved power.​

​

Then the Jedi came at him, Sunstrider spinning on his heels before kicking up off the ground to strike at his chest. There were many ways for the once-Emperor to counteract this blatant attack, he could have moved his runeblade into the path, he could have lashed out with his power in the Dark Side, or he could have let the blade simply continue forward and deflect off of the lightsaber-impervious armor he wore.​

​

He opted for something more... personal.​

​

The lightsaber hanging from Carnifex's belt suddenly thrust up into the Jedi Master's path, sapphire blade igniting with an audible snap-hiss to catch the underside of Ocerios' blade and knock it off course. Carnifex's hand flashed out to wrap around its hilt, though it was far smaller than the lightsabers that the once-Emperor typically employed. A burst of Force energy from around Carnifex's body was used to knock Sunstrider back and away, to give themselves some breathing room.​

​

"Ah, Sunstrider, just the man I was waiting for." He held up the blue blade for inspection, "I assume you recognize this? I have been keeping it in storage just for this singular moment of truth. It was the only thing I could recover from Arcanus' broken mangled body after I killed him, there wasn't much else for me to take as a trophy." Carnifex was only partially telling the truth, there wasn't much else for him to take from Arcanus' body because Arcanus had become one with the Force the moment Carnifex struck him down. There was no body at all, let alone one broken and mangled.​

​

As ever, the Sith used lies to confuscate the truth.​

​

"Would you like to have it back, Sunstrider?"​

​

Thurion Heavenshield | Rurik Fel | Oceiros Sunstrider ​

 

[Rynn Vizsla]

​

Location: Outer Garang City; Capital of Dantooine.
Objective: Revenge - Limited by the NIO Rule(s) of Engagement.
Allies: The New Imperial Order. The Sons of Mandalore.
Enemies: The Sith Empire. The Confederacy of Independent Systems. The Elder Compact.
Equipment: See the Hyperlink in my Signature.
NPC Complement: No Active NPC's.
Currently Engaging: Gnox the Insatiable ​

As the gentle tails of smoke began to billow across the tortured landscape, a creature bounded forth from the peripheries of his vision. When his Visor alerted him to the presence of another alchemically-forged beast, the Mandalorian’s eyes snapped away from his weapon. His head swivelled just in time to see the creature rouse themselves from their forearms, and stand upon its hind legs in some mockery of the bipedal form. The simmering tides of rage that were swallowed whole after mercilessly slaying several of these similar beasts just moments prior found themselves stoked once more. There was a part of him that wanted to just open fire - to gun this beast down without a second thought. But, something stayed his hand. Instead, the Warrior watched as the creature stalked forward with a confident swagger, as their hulking presence began to make itself known.​

Rynn took the time, fleeting as it was, to read this creature’s sickening movements whilst it approached. He watched the subtle way their tufts of fur shifted beneath the straps and the armour plating. Every action the Sithspawn made was telegraphed in some manner, and all that remained was for the man to find that unseen thread. With the apparent lack of additional Sithspawn nearby, the Mandalorian was finally free to devote himself over to focusing wholly on a single-target. No more would the Would-be Crusader be forced to exhaust himself against a numerically superior force in this battle. Now, through blood and the sweat from his own brow, the scales were tipped back in his favour.​

There was but only one beast that stood between him and his vengeance.​

This should’ve been easy, as the hulking creature went unarmed. The beast would be forced to engage at close range to make the kill, which meant that the Mandalorian would be capable of keeping them at range. At least until it adopted its animalistic stance and outpaced him over this treacherous terrain. He was starting to lift his sidearm when that sensation struck him again. It was like his own suit of armour was fighting against him taking action, as if the armour was alive and sought to see what transpired next. Rynn begrudgingly agreed but became thankful scant moments later as a menacing weapon manifested within the hulking creature’s hand. The man had never seen such vile sorcery before, especially as the beast’s mouth wasn’t moving in some unholy incantation.​

Whatever unholy display of power this was, to Rynn’s mind, it was something new. Yet another level of depravity that the Sith and their Legions of Creations would stoop towards in the vain attempt to reclaim lost glories. But, as the weapon solidified and began to ooze with unseen malice, the Mandalorian knew that it would be in his best interests to not get struck by this weapon.​

“Su cuy’gar, Mandalorian. You live up to your people’s fame…”

When the creature stalked close enough to speak without having to shout, the Warrior’s humours found themselves instantly unbalanced. This alchemical construct, likely belched forth from some unholy vat - dared - to sully the Tongue of his Forefathers? After everything the Sith had done to his people, this creature thought it was the smartest idea to step forth and bastardize the Mandalorian language?​

The stones this creature had…​

Rynn’s blood began to boil. He wanted nothing more than to charge, head-first, at this beast with a blade drawn. His desire to tear out that filthy beast’s tongue and strangle them with it was almost too much. But, after digging his armoured fingertips into his empty palm, the Mandalorian’s rage began to simmer. The weapon they conjured from thin-air was enough to give him pause, at least for the time being. So, the Mandalorian did what he could to temper the rising sensation of rage - lest it took hold and stained his vision red.​

It was then that the restricting sensation faded. Rynn’s pistol - supercharged and thrumming with plasmatic lethality - snapped up in the blink of an eye.​

“Do not hold it against me.”

“I won’t,” the Mandalorian said in Galactic basic with as much vitriol as he could muster. As the bead was drawn towards the hulking creature’s centre of mass, Rynn pulled the trigger and began unloading a barrage of plasmatic hellfire from his beloved sidearm. It wasn’t personal, but the Mandalorian had a genocide to avenge…​

And this creature was standing in the way.​

 

[Iasha Rha]

Ruek Tast Alina Tremiru Other Space Kaiden​

Landing before the Graug, Iasha swiped her sabres fervently, almost recklessly against the larger beasts. The two bloodshine blades carved through flesh and metal, caring not if it claimed life or limb first. She just needed to make a temporary barrier of fury and plasma while her compatriots pushed. Victory was not what was at the forefront of her mind, neither was living. She just wanted them to hurt now

She just wanted what she did to count.

The heavy beat of a graug’s maul sent her flying back, crashing through a stalagtite, but miraculously catching herself on her feet among her peers. A blinding light, a thunderou sound ripping through her system. She looked at Alina, at Ruek, at all the other acolytes fighting for the fundamental principle of their Empire’s social contract.

“Crack it now!”

She covered her eyes and ears from Ruek’s flashbangs. Even though she covered herself, her ears were ringing from the feedback of the blast, her eyes were tearing up in response to the brightness that prickled the outside of her eyelids. Quickly, Iasha pressed her trigger on the explosives, taking advantage of the moment. One went off right next to the glycon, another further back. The spray of debris, of broken crystals and falling stone, fell upon the graug and their monster.

She stared at the enemy ahead through the settling dust. Iasha shouted to the others, she didn’t know what words came out of her mouth, but she knew they meant danger.

More of the crystals shattered as they overloaded, sending blue, green, white and red shards everywhere. Iasha reached out against Alina and Ruek, one for each hand. Holding the sabres as best as she could, she pushed her hands back, trying to throw them out of harm’s way as the cave began to collapse around her.

She looked at the two of them as the dust framed her face.

The Empire protects.

 

[Gnox the Insatiable]

LOCATION: Outer Garang
OBJECTIVE: Mandalorian
GEAR: The Butcher
ALLIES: TSE
ENEMIES: NIO, Rynn Vizsla

The raw hate emanating from the Mandalorian as Gnox greeted him in his mother tongue was an interesting thing to feel. Ah, it was because of the genocide. The spirits within him all screamed in unison in agreement to the anger within. The monstrous being squashed such feelings before they could affect him. Not that he had time to dwell on it. Now was the time for battle. For war. He stalked forward, his large feet cracking skull and armor alike as he crushed bodies underfoot.

The first shot slammed into his chest, dead center. He was blown back a step. His chest was gouged and burned, but the shot did not blast through. Gnox took another heavy step forward as black smoke began to escape the wound as it healed. The monstrous being had no armor, for he had no need for it. The wicked flail lifted, each chain and ball floating on it's own. They were almost alive. Like snakes. They slammed into the bodies around them. Survivors, few and in between, were drained. Devoured.

He charged then. Ripping across the ground at a speed no mortal being should be able to. Lightning crackled down his arm, charring his flesh before he unleashed the blast towards the Mandalorian. War was here.

 

[Alina Tremiru]

Iasha Rha | Other Space Kaiden | Ruek Tast

There was no end to the horde of Graug. Alina brought her blade through one, only to have to contend with two more in it's place. The armor she wore was beaten and worn. Shattered in places. Cut in others. The fact she was still standing with how many injuries she'd sustained was impressive alone. One eye was black after a back hand from another of the creatures. Her ribs were likely shattered. Breathing hurt. Everything hurt. But she did not surrender. Did not back down. Her blade was that of death, carving through those she could.

She was kicked in the stomach by a larger one. Just booted and sent sprawling on the ground. Flashbang. The voice echoed in her ringing ears as she covered her face and ears. The dull thump of them detonating was enough for her know to roll on her back as the Sithspawn that had kicked her down was dazed. Her blade ripped up, splitting him in half where he stood.

Her chest heaved as she tried so desperately to get back to her feet. Her body didn't want to comply, but her anger. Her hate. That brought her back up to a staggering stance. Just in time to hear the explosions go off. Just in time to see the crystals ring and glow. It worked. She laughed into the booming sound as detonation after detonation went off. Even the Sithspawn knew to fear this. They ran, trying to find somewhere safe from the cavern as it started to collapse.

Then she was thrown.

The weightless sensation of her body being lifted caught her off guard and unaware. She could only blink as she watched the red Twi'lek go by as she was thrown to safety.

"No-" Her voice couldn't escape her. Not again. Not another of their group. The frustration boiled in her as she watched the cavern start to fall around her fellow acolyte. A hand reached out. Work. For once. For karking once. Work. The Force never bent to her will. Refused to listen or even acknowledge Alina. And it still didn't. She could only watch uselessly as the Twi'lek was buried, hand out stretched in a vain attempt to try and save her.

 

[Rika Hiro]

OBJECTIVE I
G A R A N G C I T Y
C O M P N O R
Taskforce AXIS

<"Copy that-moving into place.">


Agent Yubari and Grauv made ample use of the brutal chaos raging outside, moving relatively undetected through the winding corridors that led down to the subterranean parts of the expansive garrison building. Dispatching lone Sith soldiers and patrols with brutal efficiency as both moved closer to their objectives. It was a dire, hopeless situation. The chances of them surviving this explosion were exceedingly slim, and she had no estimate of the survival statistics Compnor operatives unfortunate enough to be in the immediate vicinity would have of surviving.


Three OPFOR heat signatures detected. Eliminate with absolute force.


Asa was as silent as she could be, hugging the steel panelled wall as the three beleaguered Sith stragglers approached. Their boots were echoing against the hard floor as they moved down the corridor, panicked tones in their voices. They were clearly looking to escape or at least fall back before the Imperials overran the complex, and executed every living Sith, force user or non-force user within. With a flick of her hand and a knowing nod to Grauv, the pair of them burst out from their cover and brutally gunned down the trio before they could react.


"It's just down there, don't die just yet Agent Grauv, you have a duty to do first before you're obligated to pass away," she spoke nonchalantly to her counterpart as she stepped over the now lifeless bodies of the three they had brutally killed. Turning to face Grauv with a look that could've passed for concern, if she knew what that felt like to experience as a real human. Asa gestured for him to give her the bag of charges and explosives, although they were both in a poor state, at least the HRD did not look like she was about to keel over and go into cardiac arrest any moment. They proceeded further down the corridor, the once intense blaster and explosion sound now a dim racket. The pair came across the power source room which had been hastily abandoned judging by the chairs strewn about and computers left online.


Asa moved to her side and began planting charges all around the main power conduits of the room, while Grauv moved to another part of the underground complex and laid charges. Once the charges were laid, Asa transmitted her signal to the Imperial command. If her processor chip survived the collapsing of the building, at least she would be put back together and made whole again. Either way, it had been a privilege to be made in the line of furthering the great cause.


<"Agent Grauv, if you copy, now is the time, may the imperial spirit be with you in this hour," she spoke calmly, pulling out the detonator from her belt and gazing down upon it. Finger resting firmly against the button, she exhaled and closed her eyes before pressing the trigger. A soft smirk forming on her lips as she was wholly embraced by fire and stone.

Irveric Tavlar Djorn Bline Tulan Kor Jaeger Harrsk Vostok Grauv @Tyrell Paxus Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Lucien Dooku Dhuzgnar TSE | ENEMIES | ENGAGING Darth Prazutis CIS | Taiia Locke Luna Terrik Gerwald Lechner Redd ​