Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Skirmish Operation Sundown: Tempo of War | LS & Jedi vs. GE


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OPERATION SUNDOWN: TEMPO OF WAR

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Darkness spreads across the CORE! The industrial world of BALMORRA, once Alliance-held, has pledged its loyalties to the SITH'ARI and the GALACTIC EMPIRE. Their new seat of power comes with the greatest of benefits: weapons of mass destruction, delivered by BALMORRAN ARMS and overseen by GOVERNOR Drachmas Venti Drachmas Venti , to turn against the rest of the galaxy. An utter betrayal that will not go unanswered.

In the shadow of tyranny, RESISTANCE rises in the east. With their newly reinforced host on Atrisia, the LIGHTSWORN, joined by new allies, gather en masse. Whilst preparation to strike out at the SITH STATES are underway, a golden opportunity has presented itself. A BALMORRAN ARMS FREIGHTER was stolen and secured without the enemy being any the wiser. The Empire’s forward deployment on the deep core has left its rear vulnerable. On the eve of the invasion of Coruscant, the moment to strike is now.


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“The focus is Balmorran Arms — without their support, the Empire cannot maintain tempo with a snowball campaign. The ship will get you past planetary shields; they think you are one of their own. Drop at twilight on production facilities. Your mission is to secure advanced weapon caches for Lightsworn and allied forces.

Any supply line that cannot be secured is to be destroyed. Plant charges, destroy infrastructure… nothing of use is to remain in their hands. These traitors shall not be left any advantage.

Expect heavy resistance from corporate security, their dark sided allies, and automated defense systems. If possible, gather intel on Venti - his downfall could place the local government in chaos.

We are requesting aid from allies to back your mission. Go with the Force.”


-Master Henna Ashina


 
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OPERATION SUNDOWN: TEMPO OF WAR
Service Special Small Pistol
( 2x) IG-Series Droids for Personal Protection

Governor Drachmas Venti, Balmorran Arms Factory

Balmorra had faithfully served the Galactic Alliance for many years, enduring numerous conflicts such as the New Imperial Order-Alliance war, the Alliance-Enclave war, and even the Dark Empire's nefarious attempt to seize the core worlds long before the Planeshift occurred.

However, the Balmorran people had reached their limit, as the Alliance failed to take advantage of key victories and wasted opportunities to achieve victory over the Sith Empire.

Chairman Venti had witnessed the emergence of the centrist movement on Kuat and Balmorra, and he had backed them when they proclaimed their independence.

Of course, this support was motivated more by profit margins than any genuine allegiance to their radical agenda, yet the rather elderly man had to concede that the Imperial concept was becoming increasingly appealing.

"Governor Venti, Freighter A-651 has arrived on Balmorra and is heading towards the landing zone."

His face shifted slightly from these internal reflections as a report arrived from the spaceport, notifying him of another Balmorran Arms freighter's arrival. He dismissed it for the time being, unaware that this would lead to his downfall, as the main Imperial Force was away attempting to capture Coruscant and the Deep Core.​

 
Friends: Shinzou Ashina Shinzou Ashina | OPEN TO GOOD GUYS
Foes: Drachmas Venti Drachmas Venti and his corpo toys | OPEN TO BADDIES


“YEEEEEHAAAAAA-!”

Talin’s free fall outta the moving freighter was exhilarating. When she had linked back up with her twin on Atrisia, she remained unimpressed, despite the small army gathering on the mountain side. For crying out loud, the Lightsworn subscribed to the outdated notion that bathrobes were proper combat attire. But this - droppin’ on corpos, blowin’ up factories, puttin’ the hurt to the Empire - this, she could get behind. A parachute caught her, slowing the decent, her form going stiff to guide the thing to the ground. The blonde let out a laugh, pretendin’ she was a bird.

Then the shots came rollin’. Apparently these corpo types took security pretty seriously. A turret rose from its resting place on the perimeter wall, activated by her motion, poised toward the group of Jedi who were assigned the first factory. Vrrrrrrrr. The purr became louder as the weapon charged.

“Oh no.”

Talin began buckin’ wildly under the shoot, doin’ whatever she could to move unexpectedly. It reminded her of when her brothers would break out the bb rifles back home - zig zag through the fields or limp back home with a bruised and bleedin’ tush. The movement was enough to avoid direct fire. Instead the laser ripped through the cloth that carried her.

“Chiii - Shiz!” She yelped to her partner for help as if he could do anything.

The chute lost the wind, and she began to drop, quick. Swinging her weight again, she angled for the wall where the turret sat, still pinging. Another shot grazed her hair, followed by a very unheroic scream. Talins whole body hit the wall with a splat. Everything was gonna hurt tomorrow, but one hand managed to grab ahold the top edge. The turret whirred as it attempted to point down towards her, unable to reach the angle needed. With a grunt that coulda came from a grown man, her other hand reached up to grab the turrets base and heave the rest of her body with it. She barely caught the straddle to keep her balanced atop the wall. Her saber ignited and clearly slashed the turret in two.

Beyond, matching guns lined the entirety of the wall every ten feet or so. It was a twenty foot drop into the yard below. Droids patrolled, and were riled by the fire, but had not yet noticed her position.

“They coulda warned us about this.” Talin complained over comms.
 

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TASK FORCE 'TAPANI' – Assault Squadron
1 New Imperial-class Star Destroyer – INV Edifice
1 Inceptus-class Corvette – INV Shatter
Drachmas Venti Drachmas Venti | Imperial Allies | Henna Ashina Henna Ashina | Talin Treicolt Talin Treicolt

The familiar clump of the transition from hyperspace into the Balmorra system always satisfied Cott. No matter how many sorties or missions he had undertaken in his storied career, there was a familiarity to that sound that brought with it a quiet contentment. It said, simply, You made it.

The bridge of the ISD Edifice glittered with component stations and instruments, readouts and tactical arrays. Officers and crew moved in ordered rhythm, some just coming on shift as scheduled. Admiral Cott was growing accustomed to this new territorial deployment, and today marked the final pass in their survey of the Empire's latest territorial holdings.

Cott spoke in his metered timbre.
"Officer of the Watch, begin our IFF relay with Balmorra Local."

There was no affirmation required; the officer would begin the relay of the necessary information to the military port authorities, informing them of the composition of the two ships that had ventured into the territories to survey the Emperor's new domain. It was merely the beginning.

The bridge officer reported back to the Admiral.


"All ships of the line reporting in. All systems 'Go' and prepped for manoeuvre."
"Thank you, Bridge."

Cott moved towards his command seat, determined to make the final hours of their deployment as uneventful as possible. They had encountered no resistance during the occupation; the Alliance citizenry had ceded their fealty to the new Imperial administration with surprising ease. The Vizier had ensured their grievances were heard. Here on Balmorra, the face of that magnanimous bureaucracy was Drachmas Venti—a murderously efficient type. Cott smiled.

The routine ping of the Encrypted Authentication sang out over the comm system. It was standard for Imperial ships to respond to the sector-specific challenge code, rotated regularly to prevent slicer exploitation. With older classes of vessels still in use across various remnants, it remained one of the most reliable safeguards for larger military ships. Nobody wanted an Imperial Star Destroyer turning coat within range of its main batteries.

Cott responded coolly.


"Balmorra Local, this is Fleet Admiral Cott, designation T8-7-2, Task Force Tapani. We are holding pattern I-O 6 and are clear of local traffic.
The squadron maintains operational independence. All communications, logistical interface, and coordination are to be conducted through secured fleet channels only. Sector Port Authority is instructed to acknowledge this status and refrain from issuing vector, docking, or manifest requisitions."


There was nothing unusual about any of it. It was as standard as Cott's caff during the morning shift.



 

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Allies: Galactic Empire
Enemies: Everyone Else

Smoke from the factories choked the skies of Balmorra.

The Sun was obscured, a crimson orb behind clouds from the furnaces of industrial refineries. Weapons were churned out on a daily, no hourly basis. They would help to feed the war machien during the conflicts to come.

He had stayed behind. Coruscant was a prize but Balmorra had need of the clergy. The Cleric could harness the spirits of those open to him and introduce them to the religion of the Sith.

Across walkways stretching between factories, connecting the gigantic industrial complexes and over walls that stood in defense he moved. A Retinue at his back, minor priests and troopers that acted as their bodyguards. In his right hand he carried a gnarled wood staff, on his left hand an ornate looking device; he was cloaked and hunched.

To look at him was to see the Kissai as weak, his body depleted with age though an innate cunning still existed in the depth of his eyes.

Looking skyward he watched as the ships descended towards planetside, completely assured in the moment.
 

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Balmorran Arms Imperial Detachment
Physical Training Area




Artam was not one for niceties, pleasantries, or-

Conversation in general. Thus, his recent assignment to patrol here was not unwelcome. A rotation to keep him used to procedures, to keep him alert and active until Shadow Squadron got a true mission. But his mission was security just as much as it was targeting the enemies of the Empire.

But, he still got breaks and time off.

48 hours on, 24 off. Rotating.

And in his off-time, he trained. As he was now. The heavy bag in the physical fitness area was being absolutely destroyed by the beast of a pilot. It swung violently from side to side, each impact a thunderous sound, each punch a freight train of power behind it. Pilots were expected to be fit, but Artam- Artam was something else entirely. He was a monster, in every sense of the term. His physicality rivaled even a Wookie.

Something, however, in the fighter's mind, felt off. Something was amiss. He stopped hitting the bag, breathing deeply. Something was off about the day. He couldn't place his finger on it, but he knew for a fact- today was not going to be a regular patrol day. Perhaps something interesting would happen, perhaps nothing at all remotely interesting. But definitely, just from the gut feeling he had-

Something.











 
Talin Treicolt Talin Treicolt

"I'll bet they didn't warn you about me either."
Talin would find the source of that mean speech - Meliant - posted up against a nearby wall, half-shrouded in the shadows cast by the setting sun. The roof access door was close by. Had he been guarding it? Yes, indeed. For this had all been foreseen by Darth Solipsis. His calloused, withered hands moved the Elite, moved the Empire, spun the galaxy itself! And they had pointed Meliant to this moment in time. An act of destiny.
He was still riding the high of his back-to-back visits to the Pomojema and then the Sepulchure. In truth, there merely happened to be a surplus of Dark Side Elite and a present deficit of planets to deploy them to. As for the roof specifically, Meliant happened to enjoy the extra elevation... For brooding purposes.
The armored Dark Side Elite peeled himself lazily off the wall and stepped forward, twinned lightsabers snapping to life in his hands. He slid easily into a low, ready stance: one saber held forward, one held back. It seemed he was waiting, but not quite.
A hungering presence seeped out from Meliant, reverberating in the Force, looking to find purchase in Treicolt. Her strength would become his own, in time.
 

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Shinzou Ashina
| Location | Balmorra
| Objective | Disruption and Babysit
Shinzou sat in the back of the freighter, casually packing a kiseru to take a smoke before their arrival. With the sudden emergence of the Galactic Empire amidst the Core, it was clear that the Alliance was beginning to lose its grip and security. It was clear an intervention was needed, those unafraid to get their hands dirty for the sake of preserving the Galaxy against those who sought to disturb its peace. A call Shinzou was all too happy to heed if it meant he could finally draw his blades in service of a greater calling.
He was promptly about to light his pipe before his singular eye caught movement as Talin Treicolt Talin Treicolt leaped out of the freighter, causing the older Atrisian to let out a disappointed sigh. It seems the time was now. He stowed the pipe as he raised a hand up to keep his straw hat secured to his head before stepping out the back and following shortly after the exuberant Treicolt - the ever vigilant babysitter. His Ashina robes billowed as the wind rushed past him, the ground below getting closer to meet him. Laser fire and screams filled the air as Shinzou angled his body, subtle shifts veering him to the left and right as he shot through the sky like a rocket, too close for comforts ripping holes through his robe as it billowed.
He neared the wall as he twisted and turned his body, slowing his descent before unsheathing a lightsaber, an azure flash sparking to life as he found just the right angle to slide down the wall without splattering himself against its surface, blade driven to further slow his descent further before his feet found a suitable position to launch off of. He flipped gracefully before landing flat. His comm clicked on as Talin's voice came through, "Always expect the unexpected. Like how you're still alive for example." The Ashina adjusted his hat's brim as he stood upright, glancing around to see if he had been noticed yet, unaware of Talin already having been discovered by the enemy.
 

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W A R M A S T E R
LORD INDOMITUS
Through war, I bring order.
Through strength, I bring unity.
Through fire, I bring justice.


PALADINS OF NIHILUS
He that follows in our wake is death.


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M E M O R I E S
BALMORRA | SUNDARI FLATLANDS | HILL OVERSEEING BALMORRAN ARMS FACTORY
Kyric Kyric

The destination was Coruscant. The great battle was laying merely days ahead as the imperial forces gathered and moved to their respective deployment zones. Death Squadron was on its way, the Indomitus Legion aboard and preparing for the coming battle, readying to crush the heart of the Alliance and the soul of the New Jedi. But he dropped from the ship, the Vehemence took him to the surface of Balmorra. A brief intermission, a stop not out of the pragmatism and stoicism he was known for. No, it was something older, something ancient that pulled him to this place.

The black knight had stepped down the ramp and onto the windswept flatlands for the first time in more than four thousand years, his heavy sabatons leaving its marks in the earthy soil as he moved. The red cape was gently moving in the wind, the heavy armorweave and interwoven shield weave making subtle, muffled sounds as the air was caught in it. With his gauntleted hand resting on the pommel of his sword, he stepped atop a gentle ridge, his black eyes looking at the barely changed surface. A lie though.

The last time he was here, it was all mud, fires burning from wreckage s old and new, skeletons of walkers and soldiers alike were buried deep as well as spread around the plains. When he was here, the war had already raged for several decades. When they came, they could have ended it within a night. And yet, it was a test, a trial, a measuring they took. Back when his armor was still white, his pike shining and humming in blue. Felling Republic troopers and Sith alike, when the twins were still among them and lead them into battle. When Valkorion was still their Emperor . . . .

Imperius stood with his eyes closed, his face feeling the breeze of Balmorra. The world was to see war again. Soon.

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The ship will get you past planetary shields; they think you are one of their own. Drop at twilight on production facilities.

"Governor Venti, Freighter A-651 has arrived on Balmorra and is heading towards the landing zone."

"Balmorra Local, this is Fleet Admiral Cott, designation T8-7-2, Task Force Tapani. We are holding pattern I-O 6 and are clear of local traffic.
The squadron maintains operational independence. All communications, logistical interface, and coordination are to be conducted through secured fleet channels only. Sector Port Authority is instructed to acknowledge this status and refrain from issuing vector, docking, or manifest requisitions."

BRIDGE
BALMORRAN ARMS FREIGHTER A-651
ON REGULAR APPROACH TO LANDING ZONE


For reasons personal, professional, and ideological, it took a lot for Tilon to sign on for Jedi combat missions of any kind, alongside any faction. He'd done it only a handful of times in recent memory, like investigating that massacre at Yavin. This situation was totally different and far bloodier but came with even greater need attached. If the information that had been passed to him was accurate, and he had no reason to doubt it, this was a chance to keep weapons of mass destruction out of the hands of the Sith about to assault several heavily-populated worlds. This wasn't Jedi politics, it was lifesaving. Bloody or not.

He wasn't much of a surface combatant by some important metrics, but he put about as much emphasis into navigational skill as any Jedi not named Starchaser, and he had more experience on the bridge of a large freighter than entire Jedi Orders put together. And his overriding facility with Force translation gave him an actual edge for intuiting the proper responses, filling in the gaps of the available documentation. Thence, while he certainly didn't see eye to eye with some of the people who'd just surreptitiously dropped off the freighter, he was the one flying it, and when it came time to play getaway car he'd be flying either the same freighter or one of the smaller ships carefully concealed inside.

So far everything was going just great. It could not last.
 
Hesitation Is Defeat

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OPERATION SUNDOWN
「DOWN FROM THE SKY」

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“YEEEEEHAAAAAAAA-!”

Ikuma watched stone-faced as Talin disappeared off the edge of the loading ramp, her exclamation fading gradually toward the inaudible. He moved forward, peering down to see her form growing smaller as she descended toward the facility. "She jumped," he stated plainly, disbelief flat in his voice. Before he could move back, he caught Shinzou in the corner of his eye descending the ramp and quickly following the blonde off the edge. "Wh-?" he spluttered, watching silently as his cousin shrank toward the point of nigh-invisibility.

One of the soldiers in the support squad inquired from behind, "Sir?"

Ikuma shook his head and backed away from the loading ramp. "I'm not doing that."

"Problem with heights, sir?"

"Remissness," Ikuma corrected.

Something nudged at his senses as they got closer to the arms factory. A collection of force presences, all of them particularly dark. Ikuma shot a glance toward Tilon, a look that would ask, 'Do you sense that too?' if the other Knight met his regard.

"It would seem this place isn't as unprotected as we might have thought," he addressed the support squads. "Prepare yourselves."

Moments later, the freighter's descent brought them within a few hundred feet of their landing zone. Somehow, despite their two bailouts, security forces hadn't yet pinned their ship as the source of the interloping. It gave them some breathing room, enough to land without incident. "Templar one-five, you're with me," Ikuma ordered just as the freighter landed. "The rest of you take your orders from Knight Quill now." A hiss reverberated through the cargo hold as the loading ramp began to slowly reopen.

Retrieving the commlink from his robe, he spoke into the receiver, "We're on the ground, commencing Sundown, Mo-, uh, Master Ashina."

"Templar One-Five commencing Sundown!"

Emerald screeched from the hilt clutched in Ikuma's hand, shimmering as a flourish readied his two-handed defense. Almost immediately, security forces pivoted their attention and opened fire. Ikuma advanced, batting away the salvo that came their way, every so often finding the right angle to send the blaster bolts back. Soldiers from Templar One-Five followed behind, returning fire intermittently. His pace sped up, charging forward to close the distance, broad and quick strikes dispatching what was left of the first group.

Bay doors nearby flung open, three more guards appearing from behind them. Ikuma reacted quickly, throwing up an open hand and seizing them with force before they could open fire. His wrist flicked, pointing a half-extended index finger upward. All three guards went horizontal and shot up toward the ceiling, their impacts harmonizing with accompanying grunts. They fell in unison, sounding off once again in trio as they met the floor.

"Go, grab everything you can!" Ikuma shouted in the brief moment they had free of incoming fire. "I'll cover you!"

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Mentioned:
Talin Treicolt Talin Treicolt | Shinzou Ashina Shinzou Ashina | Tilon Quill Tilon Quill | Henna Ashina Henna Ashina
 
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OPERATION SUNDOWN: TEMPO OF WAR
Service Special Small Pistol
( 2x) IG-Series Droids for Personal Protection

Governor Drachmas Venti, Balmorran Arms Factory

His hand barely had time to touch the ledger's cover to record the freighter's arrival when his small computer terminal sprang to life, displaying the transmissions from Fleet Admiral Zethran Cott Zethran Cott in all his supposed magnificence.

Just as he was about to connect the transmissions to the backlog office in the Arms Factory, the unmistakable warning lights began to flash.

Drachmas's expression shifted into a worried frown, as they were not scheduled to conduct a test of the warning system. Emergency transmissions flooded the screen, all originating from the regional corporate commanders.

"Sir, we are encountering significant resistance in cargo Sector 194," a voice shouted over the communications, while another voice cut in, "Governor, we are facing what seems to be Jedi and local resistance fighters." Their green uniforms with silver trim were clearly visible in the dim light of the hologram.

"That's unthinkable; there's no chance any Jedi could infiltrate the Imperial Capital...unless..." Her eyes widened at the idea of a freighter reaching Balmorra without sending a report the moment it cleared the clouds. It couldn't be...it was beyond belief that one of their freighters could be captured.

Yet, that was the only explanation. "Lock down the Sundari Flatlands and deploy the Balmorran Defense Force around the Arms Factory. Send all droid units into battle immediately. Additionally inform the Fleet Admiral that we are under attack" he said into the communication system beside him, a soft grin crossing his face at the thought of these supposed Jedi invaders being squashed by the might of Balmorran Arms.

The Jedi Shinzou Ashina Shinzou Ashina and Ikuma Ashina Ikuma Ashina would encounter freshly produced "Green Warden" High-Security Combat Droids with "Specter" Sniper Droids providing them backup.

 
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Allies: Galactic Empire; Drachmas Venti Drachmas Venti , Zethran Cott Zethran Cott , Meliant Meliant , Imperius Indomitus Imperius Indomitus
Enemies: Everyone Else

A Trooper approached while he stared skyward, lost in visions that flashed across his mind. Leaning in the trooper would have said...

"Lord, we have comms chatter."

...prompting the Kissai to stir, a guttural sound escaping his mouth similar to a growl before he responded...

"Oh?"

...not annoyance, curiosity as his retinue so rarely disturbed him when he was in thought...

"Yes lord, apparently a disturbance at the Arms Factory."

It prompted the Cleric to look, there was a stirring in the force but it seemed distant. A nod was given to the others and then wordlessly he began to move on. With one hand clutching his staff, using it help support his weight he would shuffle ahead.

Moving from walkway to stairway, from hall to corridor he eventually ascended high up onto one of the walls that framed the factory. Industrial Worlds were such a maze of corridors it was his preference to be on the outskirts of the buildings, the walkways and bridges that stretched between them. It all tended to be simpler, more straight forward.

At a distance the Troopers with Teth and the other, minor, Priests representing the Sith religion would monitor comms. There were reports of blasterfire, combat and rebels. Laser fire lit the skies in random intervals, blasterfire flashed in the distance.

There was movement, not his but further away making the figure seem much smaller than he actually was. He'd raise an arm, signaling the troopers with him while leaning on his staff saying...

"That one is not our friend. Pacify him."

...a motion of his hand, two clawed fingers gestured towards Shinzou Ashina Shinzou Ashina who was at a distance making him appear more a silhouette from where they all stood on the wall. The Troopers stepped up, blasters raising and would fire. At range it was wild, shots would flash with only minimal accuracy; these men were clearly more accustomed to close or mid range engagements.
 



The Force had a Will. A Will that Thalen enacted, yet he always insisted that the Force was neither good nor evil in its intention. Today seemed to prove otherwise however, for if the Force had been as indifferent as Thalen liked to preach, then why was here? Two clear sides. Good. Evil. Evident by their actions. To work alongside either side would perhaps be a sign of hypocrisy. Yet here he was, sat in the freighter with a leg thrown across the opposite knee, relaxing for a moment. His crystal eye twitching around as he took in every detail of the freighter and the people he surrounded himself with. None of them were familiar to him, but why would they be?

He'd leave the collection of weapons to the members of the Lightsworn. Thalen would get to work at destroying what he could, as he used his quarterstaff to push himself up to his feet. It seemed like people were starting to bail out of the freighter so it was nearly go time. One jumper, and then another. Thalen always used to think he was like a leaf in the breeze, but he wasn't going to test that idea out in real time.

Instead, he waited until the freighter landed and the ramp opened up. His eye sparkling with interest at the ignition of the emerald blade of a Lightsaber. He really needed to get himself one of those some day, but for now his staff would be decent enough. Thalen twisted his head back for a moment, looking in the direction of Tilon Quill Tilon Quill

"...I suppose I am to take orders from you? I am new to this...entire situation."

Thalen waved his hand off towards the exit of the freighter, as if this "entire situation" was just a typical day. An empty smile flickering away on his face as he awaited for some form of orders. Sure, he wasn't a regular soldier, but it was better to listen to orders than to make your own choices. Because choices never mattered.

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Somehow, despite their two bailouts, security forces hadn't yet pinned their ship as the source of the interloping. It gave them some breathing room, enough to land without incident. "Templar one-five, you're with me," Ikuma ordered just as the freighter landed. "The rest of you take your orders from Knight Quill now." A hiss reverberated through the cargo hold as the loading ramp began to slowly reopen.

Almost immediately, security forces pivoted their attention and opened fire.

"Sir, we are encountering significant resistance in cargo Sector 194,"

"Lock down the Sundari Flatlands and deploy the Balmorran Defense Force around the Arms Factory. Send all droid units into battle immediately.


"...I suppose I am to take orders from you? I am new to this...entire situation."

Thalen waved his hand off towards the exit of the freighter, as if this "entire situation" was just a typical day. An empty smile flickering away on his face as he awaited for some form of orders.


CARGO BAY
BALMORRAN ARMS FREIGHTER A-651
CARGO SECTOR 194 LANDING PAD
ARMS FACTORY
SUNDARI FLATLANDS


As Jedi and other fighters charged out of the bay, Tilon hung back as rearguard. They'd need the getaway car.

The heavy freighter's windows all had poor field of view, and line of sight mattered more than almost anything today. While the Lightsworn's allies had been stowing the backup getaway ships in covert-shroud configuration, Tilon had installed simple, durable cameras flush with the hull, both high and low. They piped to aftermarket monitors in the bridge, engine room, and cargo bay. Tilon showed Thalen Dhorain Thalen Dhorain the monitor, with a view of all the fights unfolding in the area. The enemy forces were mostly elite green droids so far, and the violence was close enough to see through the lowered ramp. Which had to stay lowered so that the people fighting in the hangars had somewhere to fall back to when they needed it.

"If you're new to this and don't have a lightsaber—" Tilon raked his stress-grimed violet hair back to clear his eyes and tried to keep exasperation from his voice. Wasn't this guy's fault he was in over his head; that blame rested squarely with the Lightsworn. But more importantly, as captain of this ship for however long that lasted, the responsibility to fix this rested with Tilon.

"I need you helping me hold this ship and give first aid. As our fighters push out to their objectives, we'll only have a few defending here. This is our way off the planet. Go to locker nine back up that hall and get yourself a medpack and personal shield generator belt like mine and — this is important — only grab a blaster rifle if you're trained on weapon safety." Tilon held up a stormtrooper-style BlasTech carbine. "Priority one for you is your own safety. Priority two is dragging in anyone nearby who's hurt, and that'll start happening very soon. Shield belt, medpack, gun if you're trained, first aid, stay in or near this ship. Go!"
 
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"New to fights like this. Not new to fighting overall."

Thalen gave a gentle correction, keeping the smile on his face. If he felt like he was in over his head, the Denon native didn't seem to show it. With his arms thrown over his bo staff and resting behind his back as if he was stretching, Thalen took in the sights of the droids in the monitor. He'd need to use the Force to enhance the staff if he wanted to do some damage to those rustbuckets in his eyes.

"Hm...Never had tutors on healing. Though weapon safety is something I am quite experienced with."

A small twinkle appeared in Thalen's crystal eye at that, alongside his smile growing for a moment as he prepared to head off to get the carbine and shield generator. Though whilst Tilon gave out the orders, Thalen could hear the slight exasperation escaping, which lead to him just clapping a hand on Tilon's shoulder.

"Stress is bad for your health. We'll be fine. Whatever happens is the Will of the Force."

And with that, Thalen headed off to grab the gear. He didn't run off as if he was in some kind of rush. No, instead he walked with a purpose, he strode through the freighter to grab the belt, clipping it on for a moment before preparing the rest of the equipment. First Aid kit, check, even if he barely knew how to use one. Carbine, check, even if he barely planned on using it.

The first priority being to look after himself was not new. It had been the same with his own family. He had always been number one for them, even if he hadn't wanted it. Though the second priority was what he was going to enjoy most. It was rare that he was allowed to actually help people. For now, as he waited for things to kick up a notch, Thalen stood just outside the freighter, holding his quarterstaff in a single hand, before he used his thumb to flick open the tip of the bo staff, as if it was some kind of lighter, revealing the contents within the hollow weapon.

A flick of his hand outwards was swiftly followed by a serpent-like trail of water shooting out from within the staff. More often than not, he'd use it for some kind of offensive or defensive capabilities, but today? It would be for utility. Sure, it might not be comfortable having a sudden tendril of water wrap around your leg and drag you away, but hey. It would help Thalen save people, and stop himself from exposing himself too much.

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Shinzou Ashina
| Location | Balmorra
| Objective | Disruption and Babysit
Shinzou's other lightsaber flew to his offhand from his belt, flaring to life as security droids began to engage him, their hosts seemingly aware of their presence already. They would need to be quick before too many reinforcements arrived. A swift flourish as incoming blaster bolts came at him from the Security Droids, deflecting them off to the side as Shinzou sprinted at the nearest patrol. The Ashina bladesman was a graceful if not violent torrent of blades as both his blades swung, cutting droids down with a cascade of strikes, not a single wasted movement as he effortlessly weaved through the initial patrol, leaving metal carnage in his wake. A sniper bolt came at him as he twirled his body and swung his saber like a bat in one hand, sending the bolt right back at the droid that fired it.
For now the initial patrol he encountered was down. A moment of respite.
The Atrisian reached into his sleeve to pull out his kiseru pipe, thinking he finally had a chance to take a moment to smoke, propping the end of it in his mouth as he awaited a response from Talin, surprised he hadn't heard a snarky quip yet over the comms. A flash caught the corner of his one good eye as his head moved, his lightsabers sparking to life as he deflected a few shots. A bolt whizzed past his head as he turned to avoid getting hit, the shot taking the extended end of his pipe out, a shocked and irritated expression crawling over his face. His lips parted as what remained of te pipe clattered to the ground as he muttered under his breath, "I was going to use that..."
The irritated Ashina stood after the initial barrage stopped, pointing one of his sabers in the direction of the attack and shook it as if trying to warn them. While he loved the idea of getting sidetracked and going down to handle the issue, their hosts would not offer them that luxury, and the more time spent lollygagging around, the less time they'd have to make a comfortable escape. He moved to pursue his objective, making his way towards the supply lines, whether his opponent followed to intercept him was unknown.
 

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P E N I T E N T
THE CINDER
Battle Armor [MODIFIED] | Lightsaber
FOCUS | Ikuma Ashina Ikuma Ashina




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DECOY



BALMORRA
902 ABY
THE GALACTIC EMPIRE

The mission set of the Emperor's Hand, Wymar, was typically isolated and more esoteric in nature than the rest of the Dark Side Elite. The Emperor became pointedly aware of the traits that accompanied the crestfallen Knight and sought to utilize them best. He picked up well enough that while proficient in the Dark Side of the Force, Wymar had little interest in exploring the more cultish nature of Sith rites. But he was in whole, a tool of the Emperor.

Balmorra was a world, even as the Galactic Empire carved its way through the Galactic Alliance, a world which would maintain great strategic importance to the Empire. For no war would be won without its weapons. He had been tasked to ensure its production facilities maintain working order and protection and now, both had been compromised. His relationship with the Imperials overseeing Balmorra had been rather loose, content for them to see to their own matters.

But now, in this act of terror, he needed to snuff it out and leave no trace. His Imperial Knight Starfighter flanked by two TIE Inteceptors in escort of two MAG 24 Gunships packed with squads of the 501st Stormtrooper Legion veered into orbit, honed in on the attack. He pulled open the canopy of his fighter, jumping to the top of the circular cockpit on a slower descent before he vaulted himself unto the durasteel surface, followed by two squads of the 501st who scrambled to cover to bound forward toward the Lightsworn and their accompanying terrorists.

Turning a corner, two of the fighters were just set on a barrier, piecing together a team operated automatic blaster when they unfurled a hail of blaster bolts toward the knight. He swiped a gloved hand from beneath his cloak to grasp ahold of a thick metallic sheet of raw material set aside, holding it front of him to absorb the oncoming fire, the tibanna smacking against the opposite surface until it was orange hot before he turned it until the edge faced them shooting it through the air and decapitating both of them as the Stormtroopers in his shadow began to 'talk guns' on the advancing Jedi and their supporting allies. When one team would fire, the other would reposition and move forward to seize the initative.

He pulled the Imperial knight saber from his belt with a swipe of the Force, the crimson blade comming to light with a cool hiss that contradicted the bleeding nature of its kyber. When a rather cavalier Atrisian charged forth, beckoning his allies to do the same, he set his sights on the Jedi and the two locked eyes in an inevitable exchange. He held the blade diagionally faced downward from his hip before he swiped it up, the blade perpendicular to the earth in a Makashi salute before twisted his hips and cut the blade down toward the Jedi, following through with a flurry of meticulous, well aimed cuts and stabs of his saber toward the Jedi.

 
Tucked away behind the rest of the strike force within the cargo freighter, Kyric quietly ran his hand down the length of his blade's scabbard. The sandy wood bore a wax-like sheen. It captured the essence of a craft almost forgotten, practically abandoned in lieu of vibro-weaponry and the modern day lightsaber. He considered the simplistic design with a budding smile. Though this new sheath lacked the utility of the trigger-mechanism forged by Kale years ago, Kyric trusted the force-infused wood. He knew House Ashina's artisan's lived and died by the merit of their craft.

The sound of a descending ramp, accompanied by a sudden and strong wind coursing through the ship, stole Kyric's attention from his isolated meditation. He watched in quiet disbelief as Talin charged down the ramp and out of sight without warning.

"Chit," Kyric groaned, scrambling up onto his feet to give chase. He charged past the others and down the ramp without hesitation. The wind whipped his hair wildly as he took to the air. Talin rocketed toward the earth a quarter mile west, not that he spotted her in the midst of his own harrowing free fall. The kiffar thrust his limbs out to build up drag, his singular eye searching the skies and fields alike for even a flash of his charge. Instead, the young Jedi noticed a lone figure overlooking the Arms Factory.

They appeared out of place alone on that hill.

Danger swept down from above; the strike force aboard the freighter intent on striking a meaningful blow against the Galactic Empire in their absence. And through it all, the figure, wreathed in heavy plate, remained perfectly still.

Kyric abandoned his search for Talin and diverted course with an explosive burst of telekinetic energy. He spiraled like an X-Wing midfight, narrowed his body into that of a speeding bullet, and descended for the hill.

"We've got a lookie' loo east of the facility. Movin' to engage." Kyric reported over his commlink.

By the time the ship touched down within the facility proper, the kiffar had already landed and took to the hill with little fanfare. He strode up toward the armored monolith with trembling hands, the pre-battle jitters setting in something fierce. Kale's advice, etched into Kyric's blade by the Paladin during its construction, pierced the anxiety that plagued the Jedi Knight.

Smile in the face of Fear.

And smile Kyric did.

"Evenin', partner," the kiffar called out from behind the titan. "I don't s'ppose I could convince ye to be on yer way. I've gotta go find my cousin, y'see."


Tags: Imperius Indomitus Imperius Indomitus
 
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Allies: Galactic Empire; Drachmas Venti Drachmas Venti , Zethran Cott Zethran Cott , Meliant Meliant , Imperius Indomitus Imperius Indomitus
Enemies: Everyone Else; Shinzou Ashina Shinzou Ashina

At a distance the Cleric could make out the 'saber that had been pointed at him and the Troopers he'd ordered to fire in the direction of Shinzou Ashina Shinzou Ashina . Being they were further away he couldn't tell that the man was Artisian, the fact he wielded lightsabers made Teth's first inclination lean towards a Jedi at the least. As the figure withdrew he would have remained standing, leaning agaisnt his staff.

A Trooper came closer, his voice resonating from the comms of his helm...

"Orders, my lord?"

...to which Teth only responded...

"Fire another volley."

...it was less for effect than to catch his attention, to perhaps make him think that the troopers would pursue so that they could engage with him.

Shuffling forward, taking small footsteps the Kissai strike his staff against the duracrete beneath them and mutter...

"Wind beneath my feet, carry me high in your embrace. Lift me so that I might ride you to the next place."

...some might call it telekinesis but the wind did stir around him, whipping out away from his body and wrapping itself around his feet in what might be called theatrics and then Teth ascended. The Troopers stood back as the Cleric took flight, the minor Priests watched with some amount of awe. He left them behind, flying away from them.

Flight would make for swifter travel than being on foot.

Nonetheless Shinzou Ashina Shinzou Ashina should reach the Supply Lines before Teth did however the Cleric would not be far behind him

His descent was slow, controlled. He needn't rush, no doubt the Supply Lines had some defenses of their own. Landing, Teth would deliberately place several long strides between himself and the Artisian whom he'd see more clearly now that the distance between them had diminished. The Gnarled Staff he held planted to the right of him, he leaned against it as though it were a support of his while a faint aura flashed into existence around him then faded until it was unseen; an energy shield.

Eventually, a raspy voice reached out...

"Clever."

...he'd have said...

"Inconsequential though, the Emperor already has all the weapons he needs to take Coruscant. Your skills would have been more useful there."

...aside from the Staff he held, the ornate device he wore on his left hand the Artisian might also notice the Cleric had a lightsaber on his person. Nothing spectacular.
 

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