Invasion No Quarter | NIO Invasion of TSE held Dantooine

[Tulan Kor]

Allies: COMPNOR: Jaeger Harrsk l Djorn Bline l Vostok Grauv l Irveric Tavlar l Rika Hiro
Enemies: TSE l Legionnaires l


The Devil had come, and hell followed with him.


The red streaks in the sky ceased, as Demon Company landed, teams spreading out, fanning out in the streets. The COMPNOR agents finding themselves pinned down by Sith Troopers would find their accurate, suppressive and heavily pinning fire slowly ceasing.

Point Aurek was soon encompassed by Demon Company, the red-eyed demons that Tulan lead into battle pushing back the under-prepared Sith forces. The main road was a landing point, the jump-chutes they were utilizing letting them gain capable and powerful positions in the street and above it.

Tulan, by one of his platoon commanders, was pointed to none other than the man himself-

Jaeger Harrsk.

He'd been avoiding the meeting out of purpose, strategically putting himself away from any Imperial business or meetings that would even put him in the same circle.

Jaeger Harrsk- knew who Tulan Kor was.

Tulan Kor was not always a Ranger.

Tulan Kor was not always a mercenary.

Before this life, Tulan lived several others.

Jaeger Harrsk knew of one of them.

Tulan marched as his men violently and effectively created their own space in the battlefield, creating friendly lines in the street. In urban warfare, pushing the enemy back while simultaneously holding ground was a complicated game, one that required a great many number of troops to do effectively, especially in a city.

Point Aurek became a fortress, with only the occasional crack of Demon Company's terrifyingly lethal slugthrower weapons finding their mark on enemy targets. Mortar teams began to set up in the center of their occupied zone, and sniper teams waited to join in the assault in overwatch positions.

Tulan let his men and NCOs do the work, while meeting up with Jaeger. Amidst the Chaos, Tulan stood. Short as he was, he didn't have to crouch all that much to be concealed from enemy fire. But to Jaeger, he might've been the same visage of the Grim Reaper he was and still was- just as he was to Nida Perl. Tulan's red-glowing goggles shifted upwards, pale blue eyes staring back at the COMPNOR agent.

"Harrsk. Demon Company, at your disposal."

Not even a hello.

Anyone around them could sense the animosity- the dislike, not the distrust.

Tulan Kor didn't trust anyone outside of his men.

Harrsk might've only trusted him the same way, if less, if at all.

His words carried history, his eyes carried hate. Something happened between them.

A lifetime ago- but in this galaxy, lifetimes happened in seconds, months, days. It was hard to tell which one Jaeger knew Tulan from-

And which life that Harrsk lived that Tulan knew him from.

 

[Starlin Rand]

​

Location: Outside the Enclave archives
Objective: Fight alongside the Sith like a chump
Gear: Starlin Rand's lightsaber | Mt. Muspelheim Shoto | Upgraded Fenelar Armor
Writing With: Cotan Sar'andor Pom Stych Tivé

He had just… well, deprived a fellow Padawan of his sword arm when he heard a voice addressing him. Adult, male, sort of authoritative, in a “I’ve been at this for longer than you kid” sort of way, but far from the grown-up confidence Starlin was more inclined to respect.

Although the immediate lack of respect he felt might’ve had more to do with the fact that he recognized the guy from the conference holofeed he and Tom had watched at the beginning of this whole disaster.

Starlin turned to face Cotan right as the man realized he was carrying stolen goods. Damn, was it that obvious? It wasn’t like his backpack smelled like the Dark Side. The chips and ‘crons inside weren’t exactly radiating diabolical Force energies... so much for sneaking them out undetected.

“Look, man,” Starlin began. “This isn’t exactly my first rodeo. I can handle myself out here, don't you worry.”

Wait. Cotan was important enough to be at the conference... did that mean he was a Master? Oh hell. Starlin spared a glance upward toward Syd, but she was a bit busy at the moment. Ehhhh, did he really want to have her holding his hand while he fought this prick?

“I was asked to loot the archives, yeah,” Starlin admitted. “By a non-partisan third-party private collector. You know, the sort of people who are going to actually preserve stuff while the Sith run away with their tails tucked between their legs and the Jedi rip themselves apart in the worst schism since… since whatever.” History still wasn’t quite his strong point. “So just leave me alone, all right? Mind your own business.”

He paused to silently flinch at his lousy comeback, then straightened, chin up, and gave the Jedi Guardian a look of defiance. Which is to say he went slightly cross-eyed.

It was at that moment that another Padawan who had been waiting in the wings for his time to shine decided to leap out of cover and try to tackle Starlin. The boy’s danger sense warned him of the incoming strike and he whipped around to meet it. He meant to do the same maneuver he had been doing for the rest of the battle, incapacitating his opponent with a telekinetic blast or wrist chop with his saber, but this happened too fast for him to plan it out. Moreover, the Padawan appeared to be either a moron, crazy, or suicidal, because he basically flung himself onto Starlin’s blade.

Starlin felt him die through the Force before his brain registered that he had been impaled—and by then the body had already slid to the ground, the lightsaber having burned its way through the Padawan’s flesh and bone, exiting somewhere between his head and his shoulder. There was no blood, of course. Starlin took a step backwards, breathing hard from the rush of adrenaline, and forced himself to steel his nerves. This was perhaps the first “innocent” he had ever killed, even accidentally, but he could not stop to think about it now. He was on a battlefield, surrounded by death and destruction, and a guy who looked like Kyle Katarn was threatening to beat his ass and steal his artifacts. If he was going to survive this chitshow, he had to focus.

 

[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 , Maynard Treicolt , Darth Daiara . Targeting Loske in this post.

"No quarter, remember Kyber Dark!"
"Bring that shield down!"
"Death to the traitors! The Empire protects!"

A cacophony of shouts and commands filled the air, amidst the thunder of explosions and the whine of high-intensity blaster fire peppering defenders and invaders alike. Lightsabres sprang to life with snap-hisses. The gate to the temple shook under the pressure. Enyo remained silent as she made her way towards the enclave's entrance. The enemy was at the gates, indeed. The Terminatrix felt something close to exhilaration as she watched the flames of battle spread. Combat made her feel alive.

Weapons erupted, organic beings screamed and died. Their blood would soak the fields of Dantooine. Or they would make it out alive, and perhaps receive a medal for their troubles. Only to then be thrown into the next war zone. For 'freedom', imperialism, Jedism, 'Sith Eternalism', money, simple survival or whatever. Enyo had no qualms about profiting from their delusions. She was under no illusion of being any better.

When all was said and done, she was a war dog. She earned her credits off the backs of millions of deaths - innocent and wicked alike. The more bloodshed, the more oppression, the more tyranny - the better. But at least she could look herself in the mirror and admit it instead of going through a convoluted process of ideological rationalisation - of self-deceit - in order to justify her deeds to herself and vilify her foes. In the end, everything died. Even so-called 'gods' fell.

Speaking of the aforementioned barrier, the Force directed her to it. A shimmering force field had shielded the first ranks of the Jedi, absorbing a myriad of shots that were being directed their way. Of course, no shield was all-encompassing or impenetrable, but it was potent. The Force pulled her towards the focal point.

Heading up to the wall, she was shrouded by her armour's Taozin amulet, and said suit's manifold stealth systems. As weapons' fire hammered the Force barrier, she picked up a discarded sniper rifle. The Verpine shatter rifle had apparently once belonged to a Sith trooper who no longer needed it due to having come down with a chronical case of death. C'est la guerre.

Taking cover, she crouched to provide a smaller target. Looking through the rifle's electronic sights, she spied one of the two Jedi she had identified as the point people of the defensive barrier. The organic was female. Enyo aimed for centre of mass. Two projectiles, silenced and accelerated at very high velocity, left the rifle. The Verpine magnetic coils allowed the rifle to deliver a ton of kinetic energy. Nonetheless, Enyo had no expectation that it would kill the Jedi. One could consider it a test, so to speak. Once she had fired her shots, she would discard the rifle and get back down.

 

[Ruek Tast]

Allies: Iasha Rha | Alina Tremiru | Arctus Silmar | Other Space Kaiden | Thurion Heavenshield | Darth Carnifex
Opposition: Mishel Kryze | Detritus Ren | Shaka Sunstar | Cotan Sar'andor | Loske Treicolt | Rurik Fel | Hans Rennagen
Gear: Modified E-11 rifle, Sith-Imperial Legionnaire Combat Armor, vibro-hatchet, glop grenade x4, flashbang x2, incendiary grenade x2
​

Only a few hours ago had she made landfall on Dantooine. The distress signal had been sent and available emergency forces were dispatched for planetside once the alarm of invasion had been rung throughout the local systems. Why an agriworld would be invaded was beyond Ruek's knowledge, yet the New Imperial Order gave only a scant few hours of warning ahead then expected an entire planet evacuated. Of all the planets that rested along the border they attacked the most vulnerable. In her mind it was only explained by an example in nature's endless cycle. A predator would always go after prey which they thought would give the least resistance. But the people of Dantooine weren't alone, and they were not weak. In order to fight a more terrible threat at the nation's southern borders an alliance had been forged, composed of Confederates and Sith Eternals, and a handful of Jedi who saw fit to secure the future from the jaws of death. It was ironic then when the newly minted defense pact was engaged to fight a threat that was mostly human. But it didn't matter. There still was a promise made to every soul brought into the pen of the Empire's territory.

The Empire protects.

The knuckles of Ruek's gloved hands were flush with the deep blue crystals that jutted from the cave's ceiling. The soles of her boots pushed defiantly against the crystalline pillars as they worked in tandem with her hands to keep her body aloft. Water had concentrated for centuries to pool on the cave floor below, rippling gently as new drops dived from the crystals above. Staring down her own reflection in the ancient pool Ruek couldn't consider herself an individual anymore, only a conduit for the will of the Empire, Empress, and Dark Lord. And in the Imperial-surrounded city of Garang that will was clear: Ensure civilian survival and escort them to bunkers or relief camps. It was in service to this order that she was there, then sprawled like a spider holding herself up inside a cluster of crystal, a flashbang held tight between her fingers as she waited.

Her first steps into the icy caverns were foreboding as the atmosphere warped, changed from icy to stifling seemingly at a whim. But no sooner had she lit incense to appease what spirits may have been restlessly inhabiting the underground systems did the shaman sniper see and hear the demon. Other Space Kaiden 's hulking form dwarfed any hope Ruek could muster of taking him down alone. The words--yes, the monstrosity spoke-- disobeyed the very sentiment their supposedly shared nation spoke of. He had told his brood to consume what they could find. The demon was a fleshly machine of war, one that had suffered from a terrible flaw in programming.

Habit.

In habit of being the weapon of chaos it defied an order, and would thus be defied in return. In no way could she have faced the beast head on, but would curtail the creatures which hearkened its call. The rag-wrapped rifle on her back threatened to slip away and clatter against the cluster of transparent rock around her. But she remained still, hearing their thudding footfalls and rasping language.

Close. Little further.

So agonizingly close were the Graug she'd tracked to the cavern. The Alder-Espirion could feel the adrenaline rising. Her forearms burned with every aching second, the sweat that had beaded on her brow stinging her eyes.

One chance.

The hunter's reflection in the pool rippled as the Graug exploded from the side tunnel and a Graug's head went tumbling into the pool. The wire she had strung across the entrance was broken after the initial decapitation, but it served a bonus as to cause the three other Graug to pause and observe the body. Her thumb released the trigger of the flashbang and she dropped it, the explosive going off in air above the orcish brutes. Blinded, deafened, and howling in rage, the Graug swung wildly only to hit one another. Ruek dropped from her position above. The vibroblade from her gauntlet expanded and in her free hand she brandished her vibro-hatchet. She was silent during it all, dispatching the flailing giants without them ever knowing what had been cause for their demise. But Ruek knew far too well this was a hunt even she was unprepared for. She searched the corpses for anything of use, depositing the items onto her belt and bandolier.

A broken order was everything she despised. Powerless to stop it alone she mused the options available, her commlink dead in the cave and the blood of Graug seeping into the crevices of her armor. It wasn't until the splashes of lighter steps echoed the cavern did she snap from her thoughts then whirled about, weapons at the ready.

She was met with the sight of a red-skinned Twi'lek ( Iasha Rha ) and those in tow. The vibroblade quickly sunk back into the gauntlet as Ruek took a step near. She wasted no words as she explained in a lifeless tone,"These things have been given freedom to hunt civilian marks. It's a mistake and must be stopped before they breach the surface. If you are headed topside then I'll follow. Got a map?"

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim-Ragal
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch; The Night Queen, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium​

Location: Enclave, Dantooine
Objective: Chase and find AMCO to get him off the planet.
Equipment: Brynja coat | Hersir Imperial Uniform | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | 2x Striith vibrosword | G1 OmniLink || Shield talisman | Taozin amulet | Healing amulet | Empyrean gland
Writing with: Creuat

As usual, she walked completely silently now. Most people, when they are travelling in a hurry, others can hear knocking on their footwear or other voices on the ground they are walking on. This was not true for the woman, her footsteps not making the slightest noise. It is possible that animals or persons with very good hearing would have heard her footsteps, but for an average hearing person it was as if she had not even walked the corridors.

She went past countless individuals, soldiers, Sith, and the like. In vain she tried to sense her lover, she was still unable to do so. Besides, for some reason she felt a little weird. Ingrid must have had something to do with not perceiving the man and not being able to telepathically message him. He may have been something in this Enclave, or she really didn’t know. She had not yet fully understood her new physical condition. She received no instructions on what and who she really was. That is, what she became like that woman had not completed a complete transformation of her body.

With Adrian and she were still examining her condition to figure out and decipher everything. It was not the easiest task. To do this, they probably should have found the other shadow-born as well. But in the midst of the wars, it was difficult to turn raw materials into such things, so it remained that they would do so later when the times were more peaceful. She deliberately did not “say” that when there will be peace. After all, the man was a Sith Lord and the first line of their code was “Peace is a lie”. It wasn't as if she knew Adrian as the one who was following the code.

As she turned into the hallway leading to the labs, Ingrid nearly collided with someone who would then have turned into the hallway from which the newly appointed Empress came. The man wore a lab coat and then went on after an apology. The man didn't even realize who he was about to hit. Ingrid just shook her head and now she was really walking into the lab. Countless people worked there, mainly saving data, packing the equipment in the lab in boxes and crates. She didn’t even have to ask because someone recognized her.

However, she didn’t get good news, Adrian left the labs about ten minutes ago, and they don’t know where he is since. But in theory, the Sith Lord should have gone to the meeting point where Ingrid had arrived with her ship. But the Sith Lord was not there. She shook her head again. She asked them if the Sith Lord came forward to notify her immediately. She turned and left the lab. Yet in what damn place could the man get mixed up when he had to walk straight down two corridors? And why wasn’t she able to feel him while can feel everyone else?

​

 

[Amea Virou]

Runi Verin // AMCO

It was a cacophony of death and destruction as lives spilled out in an assault between brethren and fiends, estranged family from a rebellious branch. Imperial on Imperial fought today, side by side and rifle against rifle until there was only one left at the top, and in truth the only winners would be those who, like the two women acting on their own behalf, struggled for themselves instead of an indoctrinated ‘greater cause.’

To Amea this was not about a greater cause, greed played into it, pride did too, but most of all it was the thrill. The flirt with death, and the exhilarating high that it brought on. Recent events had given her reason to reconsider, but that need — no, desire — to keep pushing the limit of who counted as a ‘bad guy too rich for their own good’ was too hard to resist, and in that regard there seemed few were ever quite as bad of a guy as the Sith themselves. At least bad guys who still kept some form of value in their properties at least.

In the darkness below the enclave had a chill to it. The drips of water echoed down long hallways, the first horror of many being the souls lost in the process of seemingly trying to get away or who had suffered a fate worse than most.

Shades. The way Runi said it made it all too clear she had some form of familiarity with them. Necromancy, the idea that someone had brought the dead back was enough to send a shiver down Amea’s spine as she followed behind her friend who promptly set off into a terrified sprint along the alley. There was a sharp turn, Amea caught the corner with her hand and continued behind her friend.

“Never thought,” She spoke between breaths. “We’d be doing this chit again!”

A laugh parted her lips into a grin before she quickly felt the air in her lungs give way and force her to cough. She kept the pace, focused on being smart rather than a smartass as they continued down the hall.

“Ideas on how to fight these things,” She exhaled and inhaled, and inhaled, and exhaled. “Miss Necro?”

Amea’s feet pounded against the floor.

“Light or something? Like in the movies?”

 

[AMCO]

Location: Somewhere beneath the Sith Enclave proper.
Objective: Improvised Field Trial Besh-1; harry New Imperial forces.
Equipment: Polyweave Suit, G1 UltraDeluxe, Shield Talisman, Soulstones, Empyrean Gland, [2] Jin'Pins
Writing With: Runi Verin & Amea Virou

In hidden corners and shadowy hallways, people died. Unseen and unheard, their last words - for those who mustered more than pained whimper - falling on deaf ears, any meaning lost to the unfeeling beings that devoured them. The numbers were too large, however, the fighting too fierce.

He was fond of his most recent creations, but even he had to admit they were better suited for skirmishing and distraction. No, this battle would be won or lost by blaster and by blade, by the cumulative aggregate of a dozen dozen little fights, each determined by bravery, skill, and cold chance.

Whoever emerged the victor, they would all lose. An intolerable position to be in, with the Bryn'adûl menace lurking at their back.

Mood darkening as someone seemed to walk right through the skirmish lines he had set up underground, he was about to chastise the shades when their reasoning, animalistic as it was, flowed through the tenuous bonds he maintained. At least one Force User? Hmm. Not a true Jedi, either.

An Imp, then? Worth his attention, certainly. Instructing the beings to push the pair towards his location, he made his way to a chokepoint of sorts, an otherwise unremarkable passageway. In his bespoke suit, hands in pockets and an expensive watch upon his wrist, he looked quite out of place...

... though the amused smirk upon his features, the darkness of his aura, and the quartet of Shrouds drifting behind him like a reverse guard of honour made what he was evident. Perhaps they even knew him by name - Force knew he was not one to shy away from the camera.

 

[Iasha Rha]

Ruek Tast Other Space Kaiden Alina Tremiru Arctus Silmar

Iasha listened intently to the input of her fellow acolytes. She was not the only one capable of formulating a plan, and the others probably had more insight in some matters than she did. She knew that the best she could do was to start them on the path to a plan, and if she must, make a call by force.

“Good point. Some of us should protect that junction just in case.” She looked to two of the younger human acolytes “Warren, Illya, we trust you to keep it clear for us.”

They nodded, Iasha closed the map and attached it to her belt for security.

“Okay, let’s go.”

The small train of acolytes rushed down from the enclave to the crystal tunnels, but what they found made them stop and pause. Large, hulking bodies lay slain among the glowing shards. She recognised them from lessons at the academy: Graug. These bloodthirsty giants were weapons of the Sith Empire. Wild and reckless, they were mostly used in attack efforts, not defence.

Had they been breached?

Iasha pulled out her lightsabre and ignited it as she took a protective stance in front of the other acolytes. She did not know the figure that stepped out of the dark, vibroblade sinking back into their gauntlet.

"These things have been given freedom to hunt civilian marks. It's a mistake and must be stopped before they breach the surface. If you are headed topside then I'll follow. Got a map?" -Ruek asked.

Iasha straightened up, brow furrowing.

“That’s a direct breach of orders. The masters-” She caught herself in the moment “Yeah, we have a map.”

Iasha looked over her shoulders at the others, presumably as confused as she.

“We can’t let them do that. It would cause riots, turn the people against us.” Maintaining popular support was difficult, but critical- Or so her textbook said. “If the region is destabilised, the enemy could recruit them.” She bit her lip, then grinned. “Change of plans. We stop this bad order”

So, they were going to become military police this time. Perhaps the Saaraishash were hiring

 

[Runi Verin]

LOCATION: SAFE HOUSE NEAR THE SITH ENCLAVE
OBJECTIVE: STEAL SOME DUDE’S OSIK SURVIVE
GEAR: Vornskr Mk8 Scattergun, Tal Oya’karir, Muun'bajir, Terentatek Duster, Asheran Armorweave, Taak’tabi, Nwûl
ALLIES: Amea Virou
ENEMIES: AMCO | TSE
FOLKS MESSING UP A PERFECTLY GOOD HEIST: NIO | GA | ETC

“You don't,” The Kiffar practically growled as they darted down the corridors at a breakneck pace, a combination of her own physical prowess and the force keeping her a hairsbreadth ahead of the incorporeal, shifting mob that flitted and faded in and out behind them. Force Light was usually considered the guaranteed, surefire cure all towards whatever the Sith could bring to bear upon the galaxy, but such a rare and powerful skill was beyond the means of a simple outer rim salvager to learn. That didn't mean she was completely without a few tricks up her sleeve. She just needed a moment to think...

Easier said then done with a shambling horde on your heels, reminding her of the Starweirds she had encountered years a---

“Fierfek, it can't be that easy, can it?” An amused sound escaped her lips despite the situation. She never thought her frantic and wholly traumatic encounter with karking Starweirds would be a useful one day. Like the creatures that pursued them, they were shadows caught between the realms. Fragments and echoes of what twisted creatures they had been in life. Fearsome monsters to be sure, but fundamentally simple of mind. Driven by baser instinct and lizard-brain like motivations. Dividing their pitiful realm into two broadstroke categories; stuff to fear and stuff to consume.

Safe to rule out the former, but the latter...

She stretched out her senses within the force, brushing through the ambient maelstrom of darkness and chaos around them on all sides, reaching out towards the pockets of combat that were spilling into the passageways from above. Her path quickly changing course as she set herself moving towards one of the larger clusters of life still maintaining a foothold on the lower levels, a sudden burst of speed jolting her through one labyrinthine passageway after the next, her own instinctive navigational skills guiding her where a more logical approach would have failed.

"Keep close." She called to Amea as they began to draw near, the tunnel up ahead seeming to blossom with light as it opened onto a large and expansive antechamber. A cacophony of blaster fire zipped and flashed back and forward as two groups of ten or more red and white clad troopers sought to overwhelm the other. Yelling battlecries, trading curses, darting to cover. Ordinarily she would have slowed down at this point, but nothing about today was ordinary. Instead she sped up even more, pushing herself to the upper limits of what her body to contend with. Footfalls becoming a rapid drum-roll tattoo. "Stay on me, don't fall behind, and don't karking overthink."

With that she was out and into the main area of the battlefield that awaited them, barely registering the surprised looks that were sent their way from the troopers before she was darting through and around their disarrayed ranks. Dodging clumsy surprised swings and stray bolts as she ducked, weaved and slid past and out the other side in a deceptively graceful matter of seconds. Leaving a wealth of slackjawed and confused faces in their wake...

Well, until the specters that pursued stumbled into them from behind. The sudden wealth of prey distracting them from their original quarry. A flicker of guilt flashed through her for the sake of the white clad soldiers that were nominally on her side, but it was quickly suppressed. They were far from home free.

"You good?" She breathed as she finally allowed to slow her pace a little, dark eyes glancing towards her companion not so much for reassurance that they were there, her force bond was enough to inform her of that, but to see if there was any... flicker of the woman she had once known. The panicked girl that had all but had a nervous breakdown in the turbolift corridor so many years ago. "You didn't let any of them touch you? Last thing we need is..."

Her voice stilled as another presence entered into her peripheral awareness, somehow slipping with the grace and elegance of a striped viper through the outer limits of her senses to almost be on top of them before Runi became aware of them. Her hand dropped to the blade sheathed in the small of her back, fingers curling around the leather bound hilt as she turned. Scarred features an unreadable mask as her eyes scanned the darkness around them before settling on a figure moving through the shadows like they were a second home.

A fancy suit, unmarked by the ravages of the mini-war that waged around them, matched with a cocky smirk that would have made a Corellian envious. It took her less than a second to match a name to the punchable face it belonged to. Her contacts through Cerita Sarova and Carach enough to keep her apprised of the more notable members of the current Sith Regime.

"Vandiir." The word sounded like an insult coming from her accented tongue, the expression playing out on her own scarred features only serving to underline it further as she took a pace - and then another two - backwards. Eyes darting briefly to the shroud-like beings that seemed to be his lapdogs before returning to the grey-blue orbs of the man in question. "Not gonna lie, I was kinda hopin' you were off planet by now. Tends to be a touch easier to rob someone when they're not home in my experience. Guess today is just full of disappointments, 'lek?"

She drew her knife with one smooth motion. Past experience had taught her the hard way that there was little point in running from a Sith Lord. She had lost an arm in that last attempt. Besides she had already used up her luck in that regard. Only way through was through blood or bluster.

The Warden of the Sky slid into a stance, clearly picking which she would be option A.

"Still as suits go, I gotta admit, that there is a mighty fine one buried in."

 

[Jaeger Harrsk]

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

"I suppose that'd make matters simplified, try not to gas out old man,"

Jaeger glared at the HRD but gave her no response. Age slowly but surely had crept into his bones, tendons and muscles but the fire was still there. The dreams of a young man besides his father co-writing "If I were the Emperor" with a vision of a New Future for the galaxy. A father and son's shared dream, back there on Teta, on the terrace of their apartment facing the distant mountains as they wrote and drank coffee. There, where he grew up and listened to his father's own tribulation pursuing that dream, the dream which Jaeger had inherited. All he had wished was to make it happen before his father had parted this galaxy.

Alas.

The galaxy, just as life, was plagued with the actors of chaos always stronger than you, always the insurmountable wall blocking your way. Actors such as the genocidal Sith, the misled Jedi and actors such as...

"Kor." ice cold voice acknowledged the man standing before him. The scars beneath his helmet flared, their crevices coiled and sharpened as the memories of Ingo crashed into his mind. Ironic, he had to rely on this man to relieve his own from their pinned down position. Tulan Kor - the Traitor of Ingo. The Turncoat. The Kinslayer. The man who had turned against his own team of One Sith commandos, his brothers-in-arms. Kor's actions had left then One Sith Intelligence major Harrsk with most of the scars across his face.

Time stopped still as both men stared each other down. The tension in the air could have been cut through with a blade. Harrsk's composure flickered as his right hand knuckled cracked, he was about to swing at the Kinslayer when--

<"Let's move. Hellion, what's your status, I can move Vandal to relieve if you're still under the heat.">

Instead of pummeling Kor, Jaeger's hand reached for the radio to reply to the Imperator's transmission:

<"Enigma, this is Hellion. Demon Company has secured the eastern perimeter of Point Aurek. We are on the move to rendzevous."> as Demon Company swept around their area the way forward to rendzevous point had cleared open. It was a long stretch, with little cover and a lot of buildings from which the Sith-Imperial forces could take fire upon them. In the far distance, about half a klick away, Jaeger's HUD identified the figures of Enigma advancing from the west and moving to cover when their positions came under fire.

Task Force Axis were close. Not yet there, but close.

<"Snake, this is Hellion. We are on the move from eastward - provide overwatch. We need the advance secure and the rendezvous point cleared."> hopefully Python Company's expertise and vantage points would provide them with that. <"Enigma, move, move, move. We'll pincer the karkers from both directions!"> time was of the essence. The sooner they cut off the head of the snake, the sooner they could relieve the brave men and women under the leadership of Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt bogged down in the streets of Garang City.

Jaeger looked around across the positions of A Squadron and Demon Company, his eyes fell upon Vostok Grauv who stood over the body of a young man, a boy even. Next to the corpse's lied a bloodied knife. He grimaced. Hostages. Hostages to the Sith who refused to pull them back from the front as they had done with the worlds on the Braxant Run. Deceived and then thrown into the meat grinder of war, all for the sake of grasping for their decaying power.

"A Squadron, Demon Company - advance towards rendezvous point. Clear the buildings of any resistance. Be it Sith Legionnaires or militiamen." he ordered before looking back at the Kinslayer. The glare lasted long and words rushed to escape his mouth but died at the tip of his tongue.

Jaeger said nothing and hurried away with rifle in hand.

NIO | ALLIES | Irveric Tavlar | Djorn Bline | Tulan Kor | Hunter Blackburn | Tyrell Paxxus | Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt
TSE | ENEMIES | OPEN | Darth Prazutis | Taiia Locke | Luna Terrik | Aurelion Nova | Ulrich | Gerwald Lechner

 

[Jorus Fel]

P R I V A T E _ K O N R A D _ H A Y E K
Charlie Squad, Crimson Company, 8th Airborne
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
S P E A R H E A D

S A R A J E V O​

I remember Garang, 862. The sounds of that battle still haunt me to this day. Machine gun fire from enemy lines. The sickening sound of a vibroblade tearing through human flesh. The soldier next to me firing his sidearm in desperation. All these sounds still echo in my mind. And as conducted by death himself it all comes together as music. A rhythm of death. A symphony of war.

They sent us as part of the Spearhead piercing through Garang City on its way to the Sith-Imperial base - the heart of darkness. We were one of the first - the tip of the spear. Recon and sabotage forces to gather intelligence and eliminate preemptively threats to the Main Line of armor led by Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt . To sweep and scrub ahead as best as we can, side streets by side streets to the main line of passage. Chokepoints, fortifications, nests. Anything.

We thought we were ready.

How wrong we were.

The Sith had opted to not evacuating the citizens of the city prior as they were warned of the impending attack by the Imperator himself. At our first contact with unarmed civillians made us frantically report back to Vindicate of the situation, we also discovered that some had bared arms to form militias fighting for the Sith. Not a few of us died by the hands of locals. We were hesitant, trying to adhere to the rules set for us but they were deadly. Behind them stood not only the legions of the Sith but those of the Confederates and some of the Silver Concord.

We were met with the force of the whole galaxy.

We stood tall.

Defiant.

Forever.

​

"How's it looking?" Sarge barked at me.

"Uh, uh, uh--"

"Man up, soldier. Stop your stuttering!" he gave me a good few slaps on the helmet and I nearly blacked out. My legs were soft and my guts were in my throat. I barely held the incoming puke. This was my first deployment in an actual war. All the skirmishes before, they were merely against guerrilla forces. We'd always outnumber and outgun them but this time...I was the guerrilla. A mere ant against the boots of the galactic giants who had come to stop us.

"The spearhead's moving slow, Sir. Slower than anticipated." Cpl. Dallas reported grimly, paused for a long second, then, "...the combined forces of s-imps, confederates and militia are giving us hell."

"Very entrenched." I barely added, unsure whether my words were coherent at all. Sarge's visor's fell upon mine.

"Stay here, Private. We'll send-"

"N-no, sir!" I mustered a strength forged of embarrassment and humiliation. I would not be break. I would not bend. We were spent, surely, all of us - mentally and physically; but I had to prove myself. Prove myself to the 8th and prove myself, most importantly, to my parents home whom never believed in me.

Sarge turned to the corporal, "Anything we can exploit?"

The corporal shook his head, "Nothing we could see, Sarge." there was a tone of defeat in his voice.

Silence.

"Then we make one. These endless raids across their supply lines have barely given any fruit. We'll need to clear the way - that's the message from above; Main Line must keep advancing towards the garrison."

"Sir?"

"It's do or die, soldier. This land will be free, whether we sit on top of the pile of corpses or beneath it."

"..."

"The Captain's ordering us to contract our lines, consolidate. I will report your marked targets to Vindicate-Actual and the rest of the Spearhead." he stated, then to me with a heavy Archaisian accent, our shared homeworld, "Get your chit together, kid."

"Archaisians never die."

I found vigor in his words and replied with a fist across my heart:

"Archaisians never die, Sir."


ALLIES | NIO | Tavius Muuaji | Meko Sorrin | Daros Karmann | Sturit Goan | DT-2319 | Gedeon Rath | Rexus Wenck | Lucien Dooku | Sinestra | Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt | Dhuzgnar

ENEMIES | TSE | THE ELDER COMPACT | OPEN TO INTERACTION | Joycelyn Zambrano | Darth Prazutis | Gnox the Insatiable | Frank Sterling | Darth Strosius | Aiden Wolf | Aurelion Nova | Cara Dorniarn

 

[Verin Oldo]

​

​

O B J E C T I V E: Race to Dantooine
Allies: Kiff Brayde Kyyrk Taeli Raaf Thaelius
Enemies: Robogeber Var Koon Naier Rambeigh Hiram Voss Josiah Navollius



Oldo breathed.

He had forgotten how to in the moments prior. The stream of information flooding his mind was close to overwhelming. This type of thing was not meant to happen, something he read about in holo-histories. He never thought he be there to watch it all go ‘down a canyon without a hopper’, as his Father used to say. He watched the tactical display as it chimed, pinging the alert and readiness signals coming from within the 513 Line. It hadn’t been too long ago that the CNS Al’raja had seen its first combat-now it would be seriously bloodied. There was no doubt about it. The talks had been scheduled to coincide within the most effective of timeframes, one that any rational enemy combatant would be unable to muster during. Intelligence had not counted on a mass invasion of the Dantooine system, especially with several delegations from allied nations present. It was quite the error of judgement.

Or was it, Oldo corrected.

Perhaps it was in this chaos that the enemy would seek to find cracks in the workings of The Sith Empire, show them up for being self-indulgent, inward, and careless as to the threats around them. It mattered little. Oldo watched the ‘ticker’ as it tallied up the total complement of the Line, a quick visual representation of the confirmed readiness. They would be jumping in ‘hot’. That was to say, they didn’t know quite what they would be facing when they entered the system. What they did know was that they had to move swiftly and decisively, lest any wasted time gave an overwhelming advantage to the enemy combatants. Reports were flying freely as to who it was. The NIO seemed obvious, but others reports cited others amongst their number, troubling reports.

He breathed again, walking along the raised dais in the bridge, one that granted a clear view of the working deck beneath as well as a visual view of the space outside the screens and the various tactical and comm arrays that pocketed the working area.

A klaxon called out, signaling that they were ready to prepare for entering hyperspace. He cleared his throat, a habit he did before each address across any of the levels of communication he utilised.

“High Marshal, this is Commander Oldo. The 513 is ready.”

He kept it succinct. He knew the other Lines present would be calling in their signs and he didn’t need to keep the comms-watch occupied any longer than necessary. The response of the 513 was speedy and efficient, as per the drills they had been running ever since the addition of the Victator-Class Battlecruiser. Oldo was determined to see victory. He had fought enough and knew that, at his age, this was the engagement that ought to see him elevated to a higher command post.

The often-reckless High Marshal Brayde was responsible for the lives of the hundreds of personnel within the Line, thousands across the task force. He was young and impulsive which made for impressive watching; who knew what he would do when the time came? He would do his duty, that was not in doubt.

Oldo was rigorous. Certain. Calm. But he did feel apprehensive about this conflict. He knew there would be a new graveyard above Dantooine before the conflict was out and he hoped to be alive to see it.

How macabre he thought.

The 513 was a Heavy Assault Line. By design its purpose was to punch a hole through enemy formations and hold off enemy capital ships. Oldo had reservations. They were brimming with weaponry, ordnance of every kind. Ion cannons, heavy weapons, squadrons of fighters. But only a tactical advantage could bring them up to fair well against a super-star destroyer class. He didn’t worry too much; he knew they would bring their own strength, but it didn’t bring him much comfort. He would be authorising commendations today. To the survivors and to the families of the dead.

“513, prepare to jump to Dantooine. On my mark.”

He breathed again. Something so simple. Something so necessary.

There was no breathing in the vacuum of space.

"Captain..."

The Captain of the bridge looked up from her position, patiently waiting.

"Jump"

------------------------------------------------------------

Spoiler: Fleet Makeup

1x Victator-class Battlecruiser
CNS Al'raja-MKIII Fighter-8 Squadrons (24 craft per) Colla Tri-3 Squadrons (12 craft per)


4 x Grievous-class Star Destroyers
CNS Exigent- MKIII-3 Squadrons
CNS Carrhae White-MKIII-3 Squadrons
CNS Tyraxes-MKIII-3 Squadrons
CNS Felwinter-MKIII-3 Squadrons

2 x Argente-class Assault Cruisers
CNS Last Disciple-MKIII-2 Squadrons
CNS Shadowrun-MKIII-2 Squadrons

4 x Murkhana-class Escort Frigates
CNS Aspis-MKIII-1 Squadron
CNS Cannae-MKIII-1 Squadron
CNS Utica-MKIII-1 Squadron
CNS Capua-MKIII-1 Squadron

6 x Terrus-class Flak Frigates
CNS Akelia
CNS Mormont
CNS Pedestal
CNS Aevala
CNS Sundark
CNS Alisandor

Total Fighter Complement-MKIII-672/ Colla Tri-36

Spoiler: Action Summary

Prepare all ships of the 513 Heavy Assault Line to jump to Dantooine. Enter hyperspace behind Kiff Brayde

​

​

​

​

 

[Adron Malvern]

ENCLAVE​

Tags: Freyu Molidias | Xobos Yakieer | Shaka Sunstar | Kalika Vaar ​

Weaponry: Armor, Lightsaber, Comm Device, Wedding Band ​

The line had been drawn. It was quite interesting to watch as the area around the Sith temple soon turned into a battleground, a place where the forces of light and darkness could meet and engage in combat. The thought made the hairs on the back of Darth Malphas' neck stand erect. The moment before battle was certainly a feeling he'd come to love. Perhaps he had spent too much time with his Echani counterpart, Srina Talon . Sparring with the platinum haired woman unlocked a certain respect for combat that few could understand.

At the highest peak of the steps, the Force echoed out in a warm wave. A familiar feeling that caused Malphas to cross his arms over his chest, eyes rising to the skies above. The presence he felt was a unique one. Mishel Kryze . He exhaled softly, his eyes closing as he realized his wife's sister had come to this place in hopes of striking against the Sith Empire. "Stupid girl. Stay out of my way." He spoke softly, yet he quickly turned his eyes to the battlefield forming below. The Sith lines were holding, holding quite well as a matter of fact. The enemy had managed to organize a mounted offensive, where a number of speeder bike units were attempting to pierce the Sith lines.

The Sith Lord's eyes took special notice of two particular warriors. No, not warriors.

"Jedi." He said with a hint of disdain in his tone. No sooner than he identified his enemy did he see one of the warriors stand upon his bike, riding towards the Sith Temple with hellish focus. "Impressive..." Adron said, watching as the Jedi charged forward, leaping into the air and sending the speeder bike flying towards the dark lord's bodyguard, Freyu Molidias . The Sith Lord did not move to guard the woman, nor did he care to see to her safety. If she could be destroyed by something as simple as a speeder bike than her uses were few. Rather than worry for Freyu, Malphas gathered the Force into his legs, bending down as a hand pressed against the stone below. In one mighty push he took to the air.

His amethyst blade flew forward, meeting the sapphire lightsaber of Shaka Sunstar with a cunning strike. The blades locked and Adron's amethyst eyes pierced through the young Jedi with a harsh expression. "Very impressive. The Force is powerful with you."

The Sith Lord did not allow a moment for a counter-strike. With their blades locked he called on the Force in his left hand, focusing on the center of his palm. His hand came out and with it an unseen telekinetic push. Aiming to throw the boy back from the Sith Temple, Adron continued to gather the Dark Side of the Force, casting it over himself in a shield to protect his mind and being. He took only a moment to call out to Freyu Molidias and Xobos Yakieer . "Kill the girl." He said, gesturing to the Jedi woman, Kalika Vaar .
​

​

 

[Mishel Kryze]

Mishel hadn't been to Dantooine in quite a long while, even so. The caves here had changed and she could feel it the Jedi Temple had been decimated and turned into Sith. The crystals here once a neutral entity now felt the corruption of the dark side. She sighed as she knelt down near a cluster on her right. The caverns here seemed to stretch on for ages, the skittering of spiders were all that kept her company. The luminous glow of lightsaber crystals provided a kaleidoscope-like light for the artificer as she examined the cluster. Signs of corruption were evident but not so much that a well-trained, light-sided force user couldn't cleanse it.​

​

Rising to her feet, Mishel adjusted her jacket. Her hair pulled back into a ponytail, and her facemask secure as she adjusted the settings. Much better. She could better trace the age of the crystals and identify the compounds that had led to their creation. Mishel crossed the cave, and made contact with the Selonian. "Lav, can you get up in the air? I've got a feeling that the caverns won't be safe for long, I'll call you when I need you. Don't worry I've got the ol' mobile audio tunes, so I'm good with music."​

​

"We should be patched into NIO and the NJO's encrypted channels."​

​

"What about Adron? Well. He's a big boy and I assume he's got an idea of how to get all of them off this rock."​

​

"Just sit tight, Lav, and may the Force be with you." ​

​

It was all anyone would or could hear. The Princess Leia's loading ramp folded up into the ship and the vibrations were felt as it pulled overhead. Mishel took a deep breath and exhaled. It would be of no surprise that those within the Sith Empire would waste their resources on one lone Force User. They were a nation of excess, treachery, and tyranny - they might proclaim that the Empire protects, and to an extent that was true. It protected itself and no one else, everyone and everything else were expendable especially where the Zambranos were concerned. ​

​

Mishel felt the disturbance within the Force, more so than the current battle - more so than the needless loss of life taking place. That she had become all too accustomed to over the years. No, this was one was different and it was much more distinct because of its growing power within the dark side. The Tygaran quietly took off her mask, she secured it to her belt loop. She surveyed the cavern she studied the layout of its massive walls. The cavern's depths hadn't been that deep but enough to tell her that any fancy lightsaber maneuvers were out of the question. ​

​

A pivot of her feet and she canted her head, Mishel closed her eyes and focused. ​

​

She let the force move through her just as it had when she gave her life for her sister Alessandra Creed and it was in this small moment she could sense, and feel just what was headed her way. As Mishel moved her head to look forward down the depths of the cavern's labyrinth of tunnels. Mishel knew what she had to do, but unlike her old master Coren Starchaser the Tygaran could not simply Force Light. It would take time for that to happen and until she would have to focus and to focus it meant to call upon the old Eldorai song and prayer. The one that time and time again had seen her through the darkest of times. ​

​

For all the hell Mishel had been through in her life. The prayer to the Eldorai Goddess Ashira had always been a source of comfort, reassurance, and hope. A source of light in the darkness and so Mishel once more took in a deep breath and exhaled, breathe in, and breathe out. Centering her body, her mind allowing the Force to flow through her. The chant became more like the backdrop of a song, still playing as other rhythms and harmonies came to the forefront. ​

​

As Mishel chanted and focused her eyes began to shift. A white glow overcame them making it impossible to see their hazel-green hues. A small smile formed her lips when Adron Malvern hissed, and even though he was distant she could still feel the venom from here. Easy there, dear brother-in-law. There's two of us she'll murder on principle if we're not home for supper. The Tygaran refocused herself and the smile that had formed grew into a smirk. "Showtime."​

A slight touch of the Force to adjust the selection on her mobile audio device. Mishel looked at the cavern around her and said with a large smile, "Coren Starchaser, eat your heart out." Her voice while raspy was filled with a type of joy she hadn't had in quite some time. As she built up the Force Light with that Eldorai Chant of hers she summoned the crystals around her. "I'm about to introduce these guys to the best type of Corellian music there is."​

​

​

​

​

NIO | JEDI | ALLIES: N A N I?!
TSE | ELDER COUNCIL | OPPONENTS: Ruek Tast | Iasha Rha | Other Space Kaiden | Alina Tremiru

​

 

[Sinestra]

WEATHER THE STORM
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
STORM COMMANDOS
SPEARHEAD ASSAULT

W A R _ P I G S
​

"Copy that." Arno replied to Tavius and followed the man into the side street just as the ASG stepped into the intersection and met its doom under heavy mortar fire. Vindicate-Actual, the famed Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt , was pushing into the city through blood and sweat; paying the toll of the heavily defended chokepoints and fortified positions of the Sith Legion and their militia. He did not look back. Tavius and Arno were too far behind if the Front Line was so near. They were the first men in, they had to push deeper - eliminate anti-armor fortifications, clear out chokepoints and other hostile elements so the Spearhead could continue pushing through the city towards the Sith base.

While his partner shuffled through the streets and alleys with his rifle on stun mode, Arno's was not. He had no love from his mother, so he had no love for pretty much anyone. Especially Sith. Once, just like Tavius, he'd served them. To him there were two sides in any conflict, black and white; no nuance. Us and them. The militia the Sith had armed on Dantooine, sacrificing simple men and women, rather their almost infinite Sith legionnaires fell under the second category. Arno was a simple man, if you're not a friend - you're an enemy.

"Take point." Tavius ordered.​

"Roger that."​

He moved ahead of his partner and stomped through a barely hanging door into a what seemed to be an abandoned home. The two scanned the small home before confirming there was no one inside and climbing the second floor where the terrace revealed a view of a Sith mortar position a block away settled on the rooftop of a short house. While that was what Tavius probably focused on, Arno's attention came on something else completely.​

A hundred meters from that position was a heavy machine gun and anti-armor position nestled into the shattered front windows of a familiar establishment. Red lights, barely alive, still flickered occasionally. Arno squinted at the hanging sign and made out the words on it with great horror.​

COME RIGHT INN.​

Arno's blood boiled. As much as blood could boil within a block of cement. The tides of anger only materialized as a dark grimace on his face. For all matters and purposes, Arno Lettow was a man, more or less, decapitated of showy emotions. But this...this was something else.​

It struck home. Straight in the concrete slab he called a heart.​

"You're right. It's nothing like Shili." he venomously stated remarking an earlier comment made by Tavius.​

Muajii raised an eyebrow beneath his helmet.​

"Look at what they have done..." Arno continued. Come Right Inn, the chain of brothels, was a sacred place for the simple man. Why? In a galaxy where Dark Lords like Carnifex could summon a legion of concubines with the snap-of-a-finger, mortal men like Arno Lettow could only toil hard for a peanut-valued salary to spend on a lady of his dreams; and what was a lady of his dreams for a simple man like Arno Lettow? Nothing in comparison to the goddesses the Dark Lord could call upon in his time of need.​

And yet the Sith had taken that from him, too.​

Forget the genocide of Mandalore, the poisoning of Dac, the torching of Thyferra.​

This was personal.​

A time comes when a man must spit on his hands, hoist the black flag and slit throats.​

Arno Lettow, a mere mortal man in a galaxy full of gods, vowed to fight for what he saw the infringement upon his existence as he jumped off the terrace in a hurry towards the fortified Sith-Imperial nest where once used to be the palace of dreams - Come Right Inn.​

ALLIES | NIO | Tavius Muuaji | Meko Sorrin | Daros Karmann | Sturit Goan | DT-2319 | Gedeon Rath | Rexus Wenck | Lucien Dooku | Jorus Fel | Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt | Dhuzgnar

ENEMIES | TSE | THE ELDER COMPACT | OPEN TO INTERACTION | Joycelyn Zambrano | Darth Prazutis | Gnox the Insatiable | Frank Sterling | Darth Strosius | Aiden Wolf | Aurelion Nova | Cara Dorniarn

 

[Lavria Xedrim]

ALLIES: Gerwald Lechner | Redd
ENGAGING: Daedalos Solidor
GEAR: This | Weapons in Bio

What. The. Kark?

What did she do to end up back here again? She had hoped to stay away from Sith space for the remainder of her life. Safe and recovering in Confederate space.

She had belonged to the Sith Empire once. Swore allegiance to its Emperor. Ever since she was a 4 year old girl, she had been trained by them. Honed into a fine edged weapon by them. For years she had been content in belonging to them. Have done their bidding. Until one fateful day on Onderon, when she had unleashed Darkness she never knew she possessed.

And embedded a saber in her own Master's chest.

Her life had taken a roller-coaster ride from there. She had been haunted and in a place of chaos until her salvation came from her new master, the Vicelord Darth Metus himself. The Sith Lord of the Confederacy had taught her how to wield the Darkness like a true cudgel.

It was all well and good. Until Gerwald Lechner decided to drag her along on this suicide mission. When the briefing was given, all manner of thoughts had raced through Lavria's mind.

Why in the kark would they ally with the Sith was the overwhelming thought in her mind.

Her being here was putting a target the size of Naboo on her back. She was a deserter and a traitor. A murderer of her own people. Yet here she was with the Lord Marshal that had thought it smart to bring her along and a woman that kept glancing at her as if Lavria had sprouted horns from her ears as well. It would be great if she could sprout more horns, though.

Lavria could physically feel the Darkness all around them. She reveled in it, her eyes burning a bright yellow as she pulled on all that Darkness, including her own. Having opened a very Dark door when she had killed her master, she was now more attuned to the Dark Side than ever before. She could feel it. Not only the Mountain's prowess - that she was familiar with, having been around him and his people long enough. No, she could feel a Darkness she had never felt before, being harnessed.

Things would go to haran in a handbasket if left unchecked.

She reveled in chaos, but this.....it was heavy and cold - even to her cold heart. She could draw on that power, but at what cost? The death of new allies and old ones alike? The death of another Master? It was tempting, but was it worth it?

The terror in her Lord Marshal was palpable. He did not need to tell her anything, she could feel it. Him stopping the Dark Lord could jeopardise the entire pact that has been wrought. But Lavria had never cared before and she sure as Hoth would not now. She turned her golden orbs on him.
"No kidding. It's Darth Prazutis after all. If you can kill the Moof-milker, then do it." she said with a sneer. The Sith Apprentice was in her element once more, standing where carnage and terror and chaos reigned supreme. She did not care about pacts and alliances. If they tried to interfere with the clash of fates, her sabers would kiss their skin lovingly.

 

[Alina Tremiru]

Allies: TSE, Iasha Rha , Ruek Tast , Other Space Kaiden
Enemies: NIO, Mishel Kryze
The Enclave - Path to Crystal Caverns

A good idea? Alina let out a breath and even let herself smile. Maybe by speaking up she could spare a couple of their fellow acolytes a terrible fate. The woman had quite the issue with confidence, maybe this was a step in the right direction. That changed at the sight of the Graug. Fear immediately gripped her heart as she saw the dead, hulking body of one of those monsters. These were beings they were supposed to be fighting alongside?

No, that wasn't right. Movement from nearby caught her attention just as it did for Iasha, and her own red blade hissed into life as she immediately took a combat stance. For a moment, she thought it might be one of those monsters. No, it was one of theirs. Relief was short lived as the order to stop the Graug came up. Her grip tightened as she knew, just knew that they were going to have to stop this. Her master wouldn't approve of turning the civilian population against them.

"We already need to stop one army. How will we stop this one as well? They dig through the ground, right? We can't bury them. And killing them is a fools errand. Do we know who gave the order? Perhaps we can talk with them?" She paused. No, whoever gave the order wouldn't listen to a group of acolytes. "Or.. Should we find someone who can talk to them?"

 

[Okkeus Dainlei]

Location: Dantooine Orbit, Thunderstruck, patrol check of the fleet
Allies: Var Koon | Josiah Navollius | Naier Rambeigh | Robogeber
Enemies: The Sith, CIS, SJO supporters of the Elder Council, Thaelius | Taeli Raaf | Kyyrk | Kiff Brayde | Verin Oldo
Theme: Counting Bodies Like Sheep To The Rhythm Of The War Drums - A Perfect Circle

While Youth Squadron continued the flyby check of the NIV Tregessar, they decided to talk some more and get to know each other. He had barely even got the chance to interact with these pilots. The flight deck assigned him these four pilots, then they took off.

From what he had learned, this squadron was around the same age as him. Fresh out of the academy and ready to serve the New Imperial Order.

Youth One and Youth Two were brother and sister who both had dreamed of becoming pilots. They didn’t care who they were flying for, as long as they got to see the galaxy while doing it.

Youth Three was one of the few Rodian pilots among the rankings. She had to work hard to get up through the ranks. And it most definitely payed off for her.

Youth Four was a little bit more seasoned than the rest. He flew X-Wings for the Galactic Alliance back in the day, but fighting for politics wasn’t really his thing. So now he is here, showing off his skills in a TIE fighter.

“So, I’ve heard that the Mr. Rambeigh guy has a bit of a temper.”

“So have I.”

“Shall we mess with him a little bit?”

Nothing better than some good ol’ fashion team bonding. I mean, they were about to be involved in one of the biggest battles of their lives. So why not have some fun.

“You guys know what? I have a plan. Follow me.”

Rounding out the end of the NIV Tregessar they headed towards the Valediction where Mr. Rambeigh was positioned. They formed a straight line, one behind the other.

Getting up close to the control deck he made sure they were flying within meters of the viewport. Slowing down to gliding speed they all got ready.

“Ok y’all, show him the bird!”

With their hands held high the looked through the viewport to see Rambeigh staring right back at them. Engaging eye contact they made sure that he knew it was directed towards them. Once all of Youth Squadron passed by they angled back downward, away from the ship.

“Haha! Nice job everyone, I think he saw!”

With cheers all around they congratulated each other. Hopefully nothing too bad would come from this...

​

The crackling of the comms startled him. It brought him back into the sense that they were still in a war here, not some training mission. He focused back up and listened.

“This is Baron Hume, all squadrons seems commanded to gain defensive positions. Confederate and Sith ships have just dropped out of hyperspace. Grand Admiral Rausgeber is communicating with the Confederacy now. Stay sharp.”

A shiver went down his spine. Looking out he saw the mass of ships ahead. Shit there were a lot.

Switching the comms back to his squadrons he gave them the commands.

“You heard the man. Get ready for battle. Lock you s-foils in...nevermind. Y’all are flying different ships. Just be alert.”

This was going to be a long day.

 

[Frank Sterling]

Frank moved down a few of the many winding alleyways of the city with the help of SICA and some of the detachment of infantry while the armor motored a location of Imperialist scum eventually reporting the intersection where a shield walker was downed and crew burning. Frank began to quickly move into one of the many ruined storefronts with the rest of the small detachment as they prepared to spring an ambush.

A mixture of automatic slug rifles and blaster rifles lay ready away from shattered glass hiding among the shadows and old shelves. waiting for their quarry to get close enough. A hand grasps frank shoulder to get his attention before a hushed whisper follows. "stay low and make your way to the shop window and when you see someone moving you use that gun of yours and hose them down." frank nodded to the SICA man Before getting on his stomach and Crawling slowly to the window sill as he made it to the window. he carefully removed his Laser battle rifle and its power pack from his person careful not to make too much noise the sound of distant gunfire hopefully covering his own movement sounds as the battle raged around them.

Retrieving his LWMMG off his magharness Frank set it up on the window and waited with bated breath for the first glance of an Imperial. His patience was rewarded as an Imperialist Pointman seemed to be leading a squad threw buildings and alleyways. Taking aim frank braced the gun with his cybernetic arm before letting a hail of bullets downrange to that squad of soldiers.




Enemies | NIO | NJO| SOM: Tavius Muuaji Sinestra

 

[Cara Dorniarn]

Allies: CIS | TSE | Open
Dueling: Salvor King
Objective: Push back the invaders.
Gear: In signature.

Achilles, Come Down​

Cara swayed with each dip and rise of the transport. The streets had been pitted with explosions of various nature, and through the slats of the vehicle's door scorch marks on building faces swirled in a kaleidoscope of ash. The interior of the transport grew dim with haze as fresh smoke snaked through the slats and Cara could taste the burn on her tongue. After some time they had traveled deeper into the city, a sector that had not yet been ravaged by zealot invaders. Hands clinked against the grab rail as she adjusted her grip to brace against the momentum of the transport's halt. A hydraulic hiss and geared thunk echoed the compartment as the door slid open. Cara hopped from the deck and onto the street, stepping aside to observe the block as more soldiers filed out.

It was almost silent. The sector had been safely cleared of its civilian lives, though the red armband and helmet of the people's militia was threaded within the small number of Sith troops. She nodded to a lieutenant, flashing the same ID which had kept her from getting toasted in Libra Gold, "Status?"

The man jerked his head the way the transport was headed, "We're digging in. Reports of an unidentified hostile came over comms but we've not seen it."

Her scarred brow rose at that report. With a nod and waving salute they parted ways, the officer gathering his men to set up last minute artillery. The entire time they spoke Cara had felt something looming. It crackled like oil on hot steel and demanded to be noticed. With a soft turn Cara neatly craned her head, looking over her shoulder to lock eyes with a man whose own eyes were hidden. Maybe it was the sun obscuring her vision, but she could have sworn…

Without pause Cara whirled herself around and jogged toward the adjacent building. A single jump planted her foot into the stucco and she pushed upward to grab the second floor balcony. Servos whined as the arms skipped hoisting Cara onto the balcony, instead shoving her off the wrought-iron bars with enough clearance to land on the roof. She rose from her knee then walked forward still disbelieving. An alleyway split their position, Cara stopping near her roof's edge.

Her face wore a grimace of concern and confusion as she asked, "Salvor King? The Salvor King?" It was. What only made it more bewildering was that the shockboxer, whose fights she'd watched and betted on, was standing on a roof in the midst of an invasion.

"Poorly timed vacation? The bunkers are that way," she pointed to the evac route, still confused but willing to show the record holder to safety.