Mission Peacewalker | NIO

[IMPCOM]

PEACEWALKER
876 ABY
"I am Become Death, The Destroyer of Worlds."​

The Galaxy frays at the seams and the Empire enters its darkest days. War has chipped and gnawed at the foundations Galactic Civilization, but none had been spared less than the Imperial. As enemies mount outside the reach of the Iron Sun, times of desperation fall unto the Empire to claw their way from the maw of terror and chaos. But as Fel's grip around the Empire's leadership tightens, so too does sedition mount within its ranks. Greater totalitarianism is not without its cost. As Rurik positions the Empire to stand alone against the ravenous opponents in the Galaxy, many doubt the Iron Emperor's ability to guide them through the coldest winter ahead.

As the final components are assembled for the Empire's greatest ambition to assert its dominion over the Galaxy, a group of radicals led by Brigadier General Freerhelm Maxim seeing the future of the Empire spelled only in doom and decay have seized the Imperial Superweapon Research facility on Dubrillion in order to seize a technological asset codified under the deepest clearances of secrecy. However, in spite of this secrecy, desperate measures need to be taken to ensure the superlaser power core of the Empire's newest weapon does not fall into hostile hands.

D U B R I L L I O N
The Sum of All Fear
Imperial Navy Research Facility 'Peacewalker'​

In the jungles of one of the many supposedly inhabited archipelagos across the surface of Dubrillion, traitors, defectors, terrorists, a term used interchangeably by the intelligence reports have taken over a top-secret research facility deep into the jungle. Strewn together regardless of their status, secret clearances or whatever else, a task unit is deployed to eliminate the terrorists and retrieve what was only described as 'the asset', in actuality, a component vital to the ignition of a large scale superlaser. As to who or what it might belong to, few within the Empire are wholly aware.

Retrieve the power core, eliminate the terrorists and lay waste to whatever is left of 'Peacewalker'.

B A S T I O N
Royal Authority
Fortress Imperator, Ravelin
​

Following another brutal defeat against the Maw which saw the Empire concede what was left of its hold of Chiss space to the Brotherhood of the Maw in order to fall back to a more strategically defendable position within their Galactic holdings, Emperor Rurik Fel summons the leadership of the Empire to Bastion to discuss the path forward. A path ever uncertain. Mired by a pattern of failures and defeats, the Empire, while at its largest territorial extent, is a powder keg waiting to burst.

As he continues to tighten the grip and increase his personal control over the Empire, Rurik Fel still faces many challenges to his authority. As the final component of his supposed 'grand plan' shrouded in mystery is retrieved on Dubrillion, Fel stands to make his intentions known to his retinue as the Empire nears its most decisive moment.

 

[FN-999]

N I N E S
BASTION - ROYAL AUTHORITY​

Interacting With: TBD

For the first time in many, many months, FN-999 was back in Bastion. ​

The planet was a true megalopolis, with skyscrapers comparable to those of the jewel worlds of the Core rising kilometers into the air. His shuttle carefully weaved between these massive structures, travelling ever closer to the palace at the heart of the city. It was a true concrete jungle, with barely a shrub in sight among the countless thousands of ships traversing the cityscape and the millions of people below. It was hard to imagine that a single place could be so large, so vibrant, so grand and prosperous in scale.

Especially when he had participated in the siege of the planet all those months prior.

The current vibrant atmosphere contrasted greatly with the urban hellscape him and the 19th had charged through during the siege, the bustling traffic showing a thousand times more life than had been in the battle zones. Even his destination, the grand Ravelin Palace, was disconcerting to observe. The 19th had been the tip of the spear when they breached what was then the core of the Sith Empire, losing dozens of their finest to the trickery of Sith acolytes. The smell of smoke crept into his nostrils, and he could almost hear the crackle of fire as he ordered his loyal troops to bombard the trai-

FN-999 slapped himself in the face, the sharp pain bringing him back to his senses. He was reminded once more of why he had never once returned to Bastion after the siege, even when he was given leave. It was still a little overwhelming.

Still, he would not embarrass himself or the Stormtrooper Corps in front of the top brass of the New Order. The higher-ups in the Corps were setting him up to lead an entire legion, and the impression he left on his peers in this conference could make all the difference.

"Sir, we've arrived at our destination." announced his secretary, a small and stout human male. "Are you doing all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine." replied FN-999. "Let the delegation secretary know that I'm going to be entering this assembly armored from the shoulders down. If they ask why, bring them to me."

The man nodded briefly before pulling out a radio and relaying the given information. At the same time, the back wall of the shuttle opened up, creating a ramp to the steel-lined plaza below. From there, it was less than half a kilometre's walk to the main fortress building, and even less from there to the meeting site. Hopefully, the psychological effect Bastion had on him would be weakened in the less familiar interior.

Taking in one last deep breath, FN-999 walked out of the shuttle, his bald head helmetless but his body otherwise encased in armor.

​

​

 

[Annor E-059]

Annor E-059
Objective 1: The Sum of All Fear.
Writing With: DECEASED Erskine Barran , IMPCOM
Dubrillion Surface, Imperial Navy Research Facility 'Peacewalker'

A lone survivor of the hostile takeover. Annor slides like a quiet spectre through the Durasteel cube-shaped vent on the skin of her stomach, beads of sweat dripped from her porcelain skin; the young adult could hear the sound of the insurgent's talking. They'd taken the research facility about a week ago, and since.

Annor had been doing what she did best as a lone operator; putting the fear of God into the enemy killing them when they least expected the strike. Annor stopped; hovering above a closed grate, she listened to a conversation among the Insurgents; her Sapphire spheres watched as one of the camouflage-wearing men placed his blaster rifle on the Commander's desk; the ashy-haired Human looked weary, she thought.

"Lock down the Imperial's armoury; there is a lot of sensitive material inside. After last night's incident where Corporal White almost set off that power armour's failsafe, the only people I want to have access to are you, Terek and me." The Ashy-haired man said to somebody Annor couldn't see, probably standing close to the underground room's door. Commandant Geyer slides a featureless white card across the desk to Lieutenant Cross.

"Yes, sir," Cross Answered curtly, Annor listening to Cross and Geyer's ongoing conversation. "What about the Imperial Commando? We lost thirty men last night."

Commandant Geyer weighed Cross' question and tried to consider a sound solution. "We'll institute a two-unit movement pattern; nobody is to travel through the facility alone. And in any movement, there is to be at least a portable comlink. We will find this killer." Commandant Geyer paused for a moment. "You're dismissed, Ghost." Annor heard the tell-tale electric whine of servos; the door opened and closed.

Delicately, Annor eases the grate open and drops down with all the grace of a feline; her feet make only the faintest patter. The Paranoid Militia Commander hefts up a pistol and goes to swivel in the Commander's desk chair. Still, he is too slow for the Superhuman warrior. Annor elbow fastened tightly like a python around his bony Adam's apple. A razor-sharp forearm bites down into the arteries of his throat.

Annor's spine laid against the excellent concrete of the floor, a slight smirk as the man's fingers clawed at her arms. Commandant Geyer gasps desperately. Using her size and strength, Annor wrests the man and herself onto their sides and then leverages her feet and centre of gravity to thrust Geyer's face against the floor. "Looks like I found you first," Annor growled through her clenched teeth; she listened to Geyer's breathing become more laboured, shallow, and then he fell into silence.

Annor dragged the limp man through the Commandant's quarters. She folded him neatly into the shower cubicle; she twisted the silver handle marked 'Cold' and sent a stream of icy water onto Geyer's warm body. "Your guards won't want to bother you during a shower." Searching through Geyer's pockets, Annor found some items: A FOB Card, a keychain, and a comlink. Satisfied, Annor walked toward the Commandant's wardrobe; she opened it steadily to find a variety of camouflaged uniforms, blast vests, bandoliers and weapons. The Elite Trooper grabbed a pair of camouflaged cargo-style trousers, boots, sockets, a collared camouflaged tunic with moisture wicking fabric over the torso, an olive-drab blast vest and a hoodie. Annor enjoyed hoodies, for they obfuscated her features for anyone not directly observing her from an axis and at equal elevation to eye level.

 

[Rurik Fel]

E M P E R O R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
THE IRONCLAD
FN-999 | DECEASED Erskine Barran | Caarlyle Rausgeber | Gideon Saigo | OPEN​

​

It was with no lack of weight to the call that he approved the initiation of the Winter Contingency, an uncharacteristic relent taken by the Emperor who had ever carried the mantra of enduring the greatest suffering and powering through the most trying battles. But even then, he had to know what needed to be done. What he didn't anticipate however was the abject failure, the blunder of the Empire's inability to evacuate its troopers, its people from a world damned to the hellish jaws of the Maw of Chaos.

To blame a single man would be a fool's errand, it was an entire system at fault, from the top down. He was the only person to hold accountable. Never the less- he wanted to know more. What steps could've been taken to prevent such a catastrophe. Or at the very least, better prepare the Empire for the dark days to come. Even Rurik knew now, this would be hardly the last trial he'd face in this war. The Empire's strategic situation in the grounds of military, economic and political matters withered day by day. They were nearing their Gotterdammerung, the twilight.

If drastic measures weren't taken now.

He sat at the head of the table, donned in his Iron Skin ash e always was but somehow, a shadow of foreboding was cast beyond the metal visage. A weight of unease that perpetually sat upon his shoulders casting through the placid-metal gaze.

Soon he would unveil the path forward, but before hand, he needed those around him to offer a shred of accountability, to establish some modicum of trust in their ability.

His attention immediately drifted over the armored trooper and the Lord General. The former carried the best knowledge of what occurred on Noris and the latter might hold the best solution of how to retaliate.

"Good of you all to arrive here on short notice...but it is known that desperate circumstances call for desperate measures. Immediately, I must call to attention the 'Winter Contingency'...what was supposed to be an emergency mass evacuation of Chiss Remnants and Imperial Military assets in the region...evaporated and now, we have sacrificed a legion. The 117th and their valor on Noris will not die twice, not by my will. However, my will, my authority spans less and less over this bickering state with each passing day. So too...do our enemies mount at the gates." Rurik remarks before he stands himself up.

"Lord General. How long do you project...we can continue fighting a war this way? Letting world after world turn to glass by the apocalyptic engines of the Maw..." Rurik asks before speaking up again.

"A decisive retaliation is our only viable course forward...but I fear we may be far too over extended. We near two decades of uninterrupted total war in our state...and I fear if we do not put an end to it quickly, we shall not live long enough to sustain our efforts to bare witness to our final victory." The Emperor iterates.

 

[Hall Mannarra]

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
Dubrillion | Several Klicks South of Secret Imperial R&D Facility
Local Time: 23:31
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Primary Objective: Escort Friendly Forces To The Imperial Weapons R&D Facility
Secondary Objective: Eliminate OpFor
TAG: Alex Eldar | Open For More
GEAR: In Bio​

Spoiler: Armored Column Strength

Elements of the 181st Armored Division, 2nd Battalion, 3rd Company, 3rd Platoon

• XT-62 MBTb ‘331’
• XT-62 MBTb ‘332’
• XT-62 MBTa ‘333’ [Lead Tank]
• XT-62 MBTa ‘334’

Elements of the 181st Armored Division, 2nd Battalion, 5th Company, 4th Platoon

• XV-60a APC ‘541’
• XV-60a APC ‘542’
• XV-60a APC ‘543’
• XV-60a APC ‘544’

Not In Archais Anymore​

The armored convoy rolled down a dirt path in the dead of the night; the loud roar and grumble of their engines almost drowned out the clamor of their wide treads. The crew and passengers within the tanks and armored personnel carriers had all lapsed into silence after traveling a few klicks[1] out of the dropzone. Only the occasional short barks of command through the intercom from the TC[2] broke the silence. Their first deployment with high chances of seeing combat for the first time for many, the crew and the mech infantry within the vehicles were all agitated and on edge.

The waiting was the worst for them; not knowing when the traitors would choose their moment to strike, and how they would execute their ambush. The anticipation of their attack slowly but surely began to get the best of them. Having taken no contact so far after successfully landing and securing the landing zone, they anticipated to take contact at any point, expecting treason behind every tree and under every rock to a point where the crews of the vehicles began mistaking the heat signatures of the local wildlife with human silhouettes. The APC[3] twenty meters behind the lead tank had scored two Nexu kills already.

The young gunner slightly recoiled as he saw tracer fire flying overhead from the APC on their rear at an unknown contact eight hundred meters to their north. <”God damn…”> Hall muttered to himself as he swiftly brought the turret to bear, following the short lived laser cannon salvo with his gunner sight to a heat signature concealed behind the brush; the turret swung with a mechanical whirr towards the sector in question.

Once again, the convoy came to a grinding halt at a textbook herringbone formation on the dirt path.

<”What’d they kill this time?”> Sighing, Stege asked in frustration. Looking at Hall and Kenth as he expected an answer from them, he leaned his back against the rolling armored panel of the ammunition storage behind him; one hand lazily grasping the handle on the roof of the turret on his side, to not get thrown around and about when the turret rotated.

<”I don’t karkin’ know,”> The TC shrugged. <”Probably some dumb-ass animal again.”> He retorted as he swung around the commander's 360° panoramic sight at the heat signature.

<”Well chalk up another one for the fifth company!”> Kale quipped in an attempt to defuse the tension in the air. <”At this rate there won’t be any animals left at this side of the AO[4] by the time we get to that damn facility.”>

<”You’d think they would avoid us from all the noise,”> Stege said laxly.

<”Well, looks like they’re dumber than you are, dude.”> Kale cackled at his own joke over the intercom, with Stege reposting with a series of rather colorful profanities in a heartbeat. He loved to tease him, joking about his assigned position in the tank. Although absolutely vital for the tank to function in combat, as the loader kept the main gun fed with shells at all times, it was mostly given to those who had brawn, not brains. Stege was an exception, but that didn’t stop Kale from pulling his leg.

With the banter between the two eventually dying out, Kale heaved a muffled sigh, silently waiting for the command to roll out again. Although the process to confirm whether the unknown contact was hostile or not was simple, it was time consuming in this terrain. Their sights, thermal vision and night vision devices were high quality, but the contacts in question were more often than not was concealed behind or among vegetation, obscuring their view most of the time. You couldn’t just open up the hatch, jump out and walk to it to check it out, either.

Uninterested with the ongoing banter at the time, Hall was busy scanning his assigned sector, sweeping the Northwestern sector of the convoy as the TC switched from the intercom to the command net, talking with the other tank commanders to resolve the situation.

Sweeping from west to north for the sixth time, the young gunner’s sight fixated on a heat signature to two hundred meters northwest of the armored column, in the treeline. If it weren’t for two more heat signatures popping up behind the first one, he would have glossed over it, chalking it up to the local wildlife again. His blue eyes widened in realization the heat signatures resembled human or near human silhouettes, leapfrogging slowly from tree to tree, steadily approaching the convoy. He could see several other heat signatures in the corner of his eye while looking through the scope. He could see the weapons in their hands, and the uniform fatigues they wore; they certainly were not imperials.

​

Just as he opened his mouth to shout and call out the contacts, a thunderous explosion shook the ground underneath them as an ATGM[5] struck the ERA blocks[6] of the lead tank.

<”Oh, chit!”> Stege shouted as he stood up right; his hand resting on the control panel controlling the rolling armored panel over the ammo storage to his rear.

Taking the initiative, the young tank crewman aimed the smoothbore at the small group of heat signatures he spotted earlier, and fired; the breach violently recoiled back as the shell shot out the barrel with a loud, metallic thud. The spent shell slid out the breach and fell in the basket underneath the gun breach with a metallic, echoing tang. Not a moment after the shot was out, the treeline lit up white hot in the gunner’s thermal vision device from the explosion. Following ‘332’s example, the other tanks and APC’s began firing at anything that moved in the treeline, exchanging fire from the terrorists in the thick vegetation; bright red and green tracer fire lit up the night. A series of commands from the TC reached the crew’s ears over the intercom soon after taking contact.

<”Kale, get us back on the road!”> He commanded the driver first. They were in the middle of a killzone, and had to get out of here quickly. <”ON IT!”> he shouted as he changed gears into reverse to back up onto the road; grumbling into action, the tank reversed back onto the road from the side of the dirt path. <”GUNNER, HEAT[7], ANTI TANK! TRAVERSE RIGHT!”>

Following Kenth’s command, the turret slewed to the right as Stege opened up the armored panel of the ammunition storage, and pulled out a HEAT Shell from its housing. Opening the breach, the loader inserted the shell into the gun and closed it shut afterwards. <”HEAT UUP!”>

Faintly seeing the ATGM position peaking over the ridge line down north of the road about a klick ahead in his sights, the gunner responded with a shout, indicating he found the target his TC designated. <"ON!"> Seeing the young gunner's sight hovering over the target he designated on his screen, the TC confirmed his gunner was looking at the correct target.

<”IDENTIFIED!”> the gunner reported a moment after, confirming eyes on target.

<”FIRE, FIRE INCENDIARY!”>

<”ON THE WAY!”> Pulling back on the trigger, the gun breach violently recoiled back once again. The shell struck the defilade a few seconds later, a few meters short of the target, sending a large column of earth and dust into the air. Pushing away the spent shell into the basket underneath the gunbreach, Stege quickly turned around to reach for an incendiary shell to load it into the breach.

<”SHORT! RE-ENGAAAGE,”> the TC shouted, providing Hall with the necessary sensing[8]. <”DRIVER, FORWARD! RESUME CONVOY SPEED!”>

Loading the shell into the breach, the loader shouted, reporting the gun was ready to fire. <”INCENDIARY UUP!”>

Already fallen into formation a few moments ago when told to reverse, the driver quickly switched gears. Barreling forward in the designated convoy speed, the tank followed twenty meters behind the APC in front of them as each and every gun in the armored column returned fire on the move.

Recovering from the initial shock of the ambush, the armored column continued onwards and paved the way towards the R&D facility, moving out of the killzone the terrorists had chosen for their attack with haste.

Spoiler: Terms, Jargon & Abbreviations

[1] Klicks = Kilometer.
[2] TC = Tank Commander.
[3] APC = Armored Personnel Carrier.
[4] AO = Area of Operations.
[5] ATGM = Anti-Tank Guided Missile.
[6] ERA Blocks = Explosive Reactive Armor Blocks.
[7] HEAT = High Explosive Anti-Tank.
[8] Sensing = A mental notation of the round in relation to the target.

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

whoops

 

[Jordi Massad]

1st post

PEACEWALKER
OBJECTIVE 1: DUBRILLION

KANDARAN_SHADOW
COMPNOR

NIO Tags: Annor E-059 Hall Mannarra Rika Hiro Asanté Tsilor

Jordi's Loadout
Slug-Thrower Shotgun
Heavy Disruptor Pistol
Kandaran-Durasteel Scimitar
Kandaran-Durasteel Switchblade
Long-Distance Binoculars
X2 Surveillance Droids
X2 Mapping Droids
Cigarettes
X3 Bacta-Patches

IMPERIAL MUJAHIDEEN: KANDARANS ON DUBRILLION - PART 1

Niras Woodlands, Actavarus Province,
Dubrillion (Early-Summer 876 ABY)

All my surviving brothers-in-arms, and all from my generation.
​

A beautiful moment it was, for the call had been made randomly, and in the spirited rage of one who had just received bad news beforehand, a betrayal the Shadow would repay tenfold, but immediate issues would need to be rectified first. Many from around the Galaxy were already making for Bastion, many who had the same idea that Jordi himself had when he left Kandara, but in receiving encrypted Datapad requests to rally to Massad's banner on Dubrillion, all who made their way to find their friend knew the phrasing of a brother in distress. Scimitar couldn't hide behind a brave face around his oldest friends, and much the same could have been said for whatever brave words he offered to keep them from worrying, and even after so long apart from each other, there was still no way the inbound Kandarans would pass up a chance to see Jordi again.

'All the others are in place now, sadiq.... Just waiting on Ayad's signal, then can we move in on the redoubt we found.'

All it took, all that Massad needed to get them ready to fight, in all the Galaxy's known pre-battle preparation rituals, was to allow time for a heatfelt reunion that was long overdue, and a little more to lead their first Zikr chant together in over a decade. Time for prayer had been taken also, going well into the evening before everyone turned in for the night, with scouts and watch-rotations reporting nothing of concern throughout, a blessing that may have been perceived by a few to be a sign from Paradise - a good omen of sorts.

For all would sleep well that night, an easy process for those diligently seeing to their late-night duties also, their reward for following their gut instincts, their hearts, their souls, and their faith as brothers of the same sect.

'This works for me, but first - I would complete my Sit-Rep for Belkora.'

The majority would awake for morning prayer at sunrise, seeing the sun peaking over the horizon as they stretched and yawned their minds into waking consciousness, half-dragging their late-night brothers to join them before letting them stumble off to sleep again before making their plans for the rest of the operation. Scouting parties were sent out again, ordered to check key-locations for anything that was either of great risk or great use to Massad's Mujahideen, whilst keeping one particular group in mind to keep watchful eyes on their first intended target, and it was when they were all confirmed to be on the verge of acting when Jordi's oldest friend would begin to behave more like himself. Rashid was first of the Mujahideen to answer the call to arms, and was proving to be as focused as ever in his readiness to coordinate on Scimitar's behalf, replying,'We have time, Jordi. We have much for as long as our targets hold to their own laziness.', as he reached into his jacket for cigarettes and a lighter.

'Shukran.... Heh! Seen! I think I'll join you though.'

Greetings from Dubrillion,
Things have gotten somewhat interesting of late.

My gangsters have gone rogue on each other, rendering themselves utterly useless and utterly devoid of loyalty to me, but I'll have these malcontents dealt with soon enough. The cutthroats of Kuat have a certain package on it's way to their beloved pub as we speak.

Shame, it really was a nice place. Changes nothing though, I can still proceed as planned.

Will find a way to meet our contact, made much easier now that my friends have answered my call to arms. Each and every last one of them are Kandaran, sir. Dubrillion will be in Imperial hands before the day is done, especially with the other units on the ground considered, much and more intel expected to follow as well.

Unidentified Imperial is inside the compound, wreaking havoc and sneaking out of sight again, showing no signs of stopping or slowing down either. Armoured units are operating on the ground, and there may be further support in the area. My brothers in arms aim to make contact with all the other units as we go, expect more on that later.

Will be back in a few days or so,

With regards,
Scimitar.​

Flicking the remnants of his own lit cigarette away as he sent the message, Scimitar then threw his burner Datapad in the air and drew his pistol to shoot it, setting the operation into commencement with nought but a simple gesture. All the men of the Kandaran host were eager to get to action, and in the moment Jordi destroyed his only mode of off-world communication, everyone knew it was their time to prove their worth, locked in with Scimitar and OPFOR until the job was done.

'TODAY, OUR BROTHERHOOD REFORMS!!!! TODAY - WE SEND A MESSAGE TO ALL WHO OPPOSE THE EMPIRE!!!!'

 

[Djorn Bline]

V E N O M _ S N A K E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
DUBRILLION

Luckily it wasn’t his personal project that was on the line. Project IRON HAVEN was off the records with private funding from the Black Fund, developed beyond the Empire in Taspir III. Only Bline and those he could trust, close colleagues and associates knew and managed the project. Seemed like the era of Warlords and autonomous rulers still continued in the Empire, only subtly. The current problems of the present never existed under Tavlar’s rule. It was more reason for him to privately disagree with the future of the Empire be trusted in the hands of a Force User.

Nevertheless, he still continued to operate within the Empire. He wasn’t present or supported when the Declaration of Defiance was decreed by the late Sovereign Imperator, when the New Imperials were only a small insurgency whose iron will weathered and dominated the crimson saber; however, there were not many old faces present since Bastion was reclaimed for the Imperial.

Tavlar was gone.

Harrsk was gone.

Paxxus was gone.

Even forerunner Palleonist advocates such as Ravraa were gone.

Seemed like the Galaxy was getting smaller and smaller for Djorn, no longer having the comfort of old friends at his side. Colder and smaller; even the flames of war couldn’t warm his solitude.

Conventional and unconventional forces convened on Dubrillion, in quick response to this sudden insurgency within their own ranks. Everything was hushed up about this dilemma, the Holonet within the Empire monitored and controlled; even soldiers didn’t know the full details of this mission. Kill the insurgents and take back the facility.

In tactical gear, he was out alone nearing the faculty. Intentions of infiltrating and sabotaging the defenses. There was more to be done, but that was a general task to accomplish.

 

[Caarlyle Rausgeber]

RAVELIN
THE IMPERIAL ASSEMBLY
Admiral Regent Rausgeber
The Monster
Rurik Fel

​

Wheezing echoed through the conference room as Admiral Regent Carlyle Rausgeber entered the cavernous chamber. The elder fleet officer had retired largely from public view, much preferring to send emissaries from within Prefsbelt Command to represent his will. Hardly an unrelatable proposition given the damage he had received. A series of blaster bolts had destroyed his face. Shattering his jaw, and tearing his left cheek right open. One of the last of the New Imperial warlords sallied forth with his white cloak. Each breathe punctuated by his uneven, electronic wheezing as he moved toward his seat. It became clear as to why the retirement from public view was perhaps, expected.

Rausgeber's youthful eyes were darkened with bags which set rows beneath them. His hair remained impeccable. But fixed to his face was a respirator. It covered most of his mouth, but the barest hint of crude cybernetics against his pale features could be made out. A large tube protruded out the right side, twisting its way down to Rausgeber's torso, where a small pack was visible on his waist. Carlyle took his place opposite the Lord General, but also some distance from the Emperor. Eyeing both, as he continued his breathing. Mechanical. And calculated. He did not bother acknowledging his absence, rather drumming his fingers against the table.

Upon Fel's musing to the Lord General, Rausgeber spoke up. But not before some ceremony. Reaching behind him. He unclasped a belt which held the respirator to his face, before unsealing it. And then setting the mask on the table. What greeted the assembly was something horrific. Deep, red lines appeared from where the respirator was once clasped, revealing his maw. It was clear the respirator had some form of suction effect, with how his chin, and upper lip were so pale... Almost dead even.

But the damage continued, with his teeth yellowed. The wound around his cheek, clearly had not healed, with a mix of yellow and green flecks of pus and oozed from it, but also dripped, mixed with thick blood droplets from sores within the Admiral Regent's mouth. The cybernetics holding the mans jaw together also clearly had not gelled with the host, with rashes of red bordering it. Along with scratch marks identifying the irritation they inflicted upon the host.

The once charismatic, and charming figure was stripped away, to the monster within.

"With all due respect, my liege..." Rausgeber hoarsely began, his voice raw, and clearly grating against something within him. "The fact the Maw... At this stage has inflicted so many casualties.... At least within my perview of expertise displays that a change in strategy is necessary." He paused, and clenched a fist against his chest, as he began to wheeze more. Stifling the need to cough, "We should not allow the strength of our forces needlessly perish... Fighting the battles of others." Carlyle paused, "I propose, we look inward. Expansion at this juncture, has brought nothing at pain, lest we reorganise. Let the forces fall on the border regions of our domain, our homeland, and we can crush them here."

"Adventurism..." He took in a deep sharp breathe, wheezing, "Such as the Chiss Campaigns, has only lead to failure..." He reached down, and clasped the mask back to his features, eyes fluttering shut as he waited for the Lord General's report.

 

[Gat Tambor]

LORD OF WAR
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
TRADE FEDERATION
DIRECTOR-GENERAL
IMPERIAL BOARD OF ECONOMIC DIRECTORS
Aerarii Tithe | Aiko Hayata

​

In spite of the uncertainty, it was embroiled within. It would soon come for Tambor to unveil his magnum opus. The time had passed by which he could fully compartmentalize the project among the several development and production groups utilized by his multiple Trade Federation owned corporate holdings. With the mass, bulk purchasing of raw materials- the Galaxy was growing suspicious. It was today, he unveiled the weapon to his new confidants, fully prepared that they might revile the action as something too risky and too ambitious.

But what they neglected to understand about Tambor...it was never about money for him. Only what he could create. His legacy imprinted into the fabric of the Galaxy's very technological progression, as his forefathers were.

Within the Corporate Headquarters of the Trade Federation, nestled at the top of the monolithic but still stylized in Muun architecture skyscraper that held the Empire's trading exchange of the IMP500 in its lower levels and Trade Federation operations in the upper. Hologram or in person, he turned to his confidants to begin the meeting.

<"EERRRRWEEEEEEEE- a pleasure as always, I trust you are all braving the storm in these trying times?"> A pretentious question really, being that their business backed on the suffering of the Galactic Masses. Such was the life of war profiteers.

​

 

[Annor E-059]

Annor E-059
Objective 1: The Sum of All Fear.
Writing With: Jordi Massad , Djorn Bline , Hall Mannarra
Dubrillion Surface, Imperial Navy Research Facility 'Peacewalker'

Annor, clad head-to-toe in the Militia's garb, walks through Geyer's room toward a vinyl disc sat on an antiquated oak player. Regarding the machine for a moment, she delicately guides an arm hanging over the vinyl down onto the black saucer's grooves. The spinning diode at the centre of the device sent the vinyl rotating, and pleasant soft operatic music filled the Commandant's room. "For added deterrence against the uninvited."

A short walk back to behind Geyer's desk, she peered toward the ceiling and the industrial vent that hung three metres above the floor. Focusing on it, Annor crouched down and then sprung on the coils of the ligaments hard as metal in her legs. Her arms thrust forward upon reaching the vent, holding Annor's purchase; she then tucked both legs up into her chest, tensed her core, kicked her feet outward, and went back to lying against her stomach atop the cool metal.

Quiet is her slide through the vents, Annor guided by memory alone, makes her way in the rough direction of the Armoury. Once controlled by Master Sergeant Fawke, now dead like the rest of the base's personnel, save Annor. Sneaking through the base's ventilation system, Annor dropped down through an open grate into an entertainment room; a pool table, a bar with lit cigarettes sitting in stone gargoyle ashtrays and a leather-wrapped couch sitting in front of a vidscreen. Annor recognised the room as the Senior Non-Commissioned Officers' Mess; she used to eat here. She'd made the intruders pay ever since in a one-woman guerilla war.

A squad of laughing bearded men with slung rifles came into the Mess and residence at the bar beside Annor. "I'm sorry, are you lost? You weren't in here before?" One of the pale-skinned men beside Annor sat his elbows on the edge of the smooth hardwood bar. Annor's blue spheres looked toward the man; he looked young with hopeful eyes, his blonde hair shrouding his head like a bell. Annor liked his softness immediately.

"You got me, I'm lost." Annor answered with a straightforward lie, knowing the militia were now supposed to travel in pairs. "I was hoping you might be able to walk me to the Imperial's armoury?" The man's cheeks flush crimson, and he wordlessly nods; she watches his gesture toward the exit. The pair walked side-by-side out of the Mess; Annor kept her hands low beside her trousers while the young man folded both arms across his chest and looked at the woman with piqued curiosity.

"Hey, I didn't catch your name, by the way." His head and eyes had to crane upward in the ceiling's direction; there wasn't much reaction to study; she was clad head-to-toe in clothing and didn't exchange Harlow's gaze.

"Call me 'Anne' or 'Annie'." Annor answers simply.

Harlow sweeps one hand toward himself. "I'm James." He replied, considered offering a hand but rejected it, Annie's long legs took generous strides James was struggling to keep up with her pace.

 

[Gideon Saigo]

"--or perhaps a change of strategy would be reshuffling the Navy over its incompetency to prevent the disaster on Noris." the Grand Moff of Sector II chimed in, the usually composed face this time tightened like a tourniquet. His hair so pedantically stroked backward now hung a few loose threads over his temples.

Success was to be rewarded.

Failure - severely punished.

Tavlar's benevolent reign had cost the Empire too many lives to the point their manpower was now being scraped from the barrel. Irveric was a legendary general, of those born once in an era, but he was certainly no visionary.

The Empire could not afford a repeat of past mistakes.

He flicked open a holoprojection of the intelligence after-action reports, "A tardy evacuation of assets, naval intelligence's failure to predict the upcoming assault on Noris, the clear inability of the Navy to keep the cultists at bay long enough... these merely a few points on a single paper of a hundred-page report dotting down the Imperial Navy's disastrous neglect of executing their role in the Winter Contingency."

Rurik Fel Caarlyle Rausgeber DECEASED Erskine Barran FN-999

 

[Alex Eldar]

S H A D O W
MASTER SERGEANT
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
PEACEWALKER | DUBRILLION
TAG: Hall Mannarra | Jordi Massad | Annor E-059 | Djorn Bline
GEAR: Armour | 2x Pistols | Sniper Rifle | Service Rifle | Vibroblade | 2x Vibroknives | Basilisk | Grenade loadout

SOBER​

<The fuck are they doing?>

Sergeant Teyr Kelborn's voice pierced the comms as the jet-packed platoon reached the column. Most of the 16s were all decorated with varying cybernetics now after surviving numerous engagements.

<They're trigger happy. Spooking at anything moving. Pretty green still, I'd say. You saw the Nexu bodies back there.> Alex said. Most of her intestines have been replaced with cybernetics after Nirauan. It had been a long road to recovery after that engagement, having to relearn breathing, nevermind engaging in battle. But she had been back in the field for quite a while now.
<There are more and more greenies on the field lately. It's like the Civil War all over again. The fucking Maw mowing down our veterans left and right now.> Corporal Taylor Skirata said.
<Which is why we are here - to cover their asses.> Alex replied as they all found themselves over the column now.

It was quiet for a few heartbeats save for the noise of the column and the ions of the jetpacks.
<Sarge, I got movement in the underbrush. We engage?> Georgia Bralor reported. She was one of the most cybernetically decorated 16s in the force - more machine than human since the destruction on Nirauan. It was a miracle the woman was still alive as reports stated that she was hauled out from under an entire building that had toppled down on top of her. It was one thing if a green tanker was spooking at heat signatures. It was something else if a 16th veteran notified a sig.
<If it walks on two legs, magdump it!> Alex ordered. <Look alive, 16s!>

Streaks of white flashed through the night as the Mandalorian troopers divided into their squads and zipped toward the heat signatures. Right as the explosion rocked the column, particle bolts rained down on the attackers.

The boom of smoothbores echoed in the night while white-clad warriors flit through the trees with precision while dumping hell on the terrorists. As the column started moving again, the 16s platoon spread out - some remaining overhead while others flanked to keep any runners clear of armoured vehicles.

Alex, Teyr and Taylor touched down on a tank as it moved.
<Shadow to Cahrlie 3-2.> Alex said over mutual comms. <16th Company Troopers here to cover your asses, Sir. Don't stop for nothing until we reach destination. We got you.>

16s always to the rescue, it seems.

 

[Rika Hiro]

Rika Hiro|SIACompnor|Dubrillion
Tags:// Jordi Massad and anyone else ig

"Ayyy pass me a cable so i can bypass this karking lock the Imps put down."

"You need anotha? Thought you'd only need one to fry the thing," a rough Mirialan voice responded back, moving over with a cigarra in one hand and a blaster in the other to where a rebel slicer was sat busy trying to break through a pair of solid durasteel encrypted doors. They'd been at it for half an hour, the only other soul being the SIA liaison sent to watch the operation and oversee data transfer to alliance intelligence headquarters. She was some Atrisian woman who wasn't for much talking, preferring to skulk in the corner and let the rest of the operatives do the work while hammered codes in a datapad they kept religiously close to at all times. It'd only taken a painstaking one-sided conversation to learn that the girl's name was Rika and that she was a junior agent.

"How long we talkin?"

"Only fifteen more minutes boss till-."

"I'd get moving then, most Imperial stations have early warning systems, the longer it takes for you to do this, the higher the chance, you, I and everybody else will be sharing rooms in a Imperial penal colony."

Rika finally spoke after what had seemed like forever, absently tapping away another code before placing it in her pocket and looking at the two men with a look of amusement. To the rebels it might've seemed like she was just keeping contact with the SIA, but in reality she had been transmitting their location via datapad to imperial intelligence services for some time.

"Alright then b*tch." the engineer muttered before putting himself back to work tinkering away.​

 

[Aiko Hayata]

T H E_T I G E R
Aiko Hayata|Trade federation|Internal matter
Tags: Gat Tambor Aerarii Tithe

The red eminence of Hayata corp was everywhere these days, in the holonet, on the billboards of Atrisias neon maze cities, Coruscants foreboding towers and the tight-knit alleys of Corelia. The self-proclaimed businesswoman had propelled herself and her clan to unimaginable heights, claiming power in the underworld, the world of business and now politics. Ownership of Atrisia was but a distant pipe dream for her forebears, a mirage in the vast desert that seemingly eluded her father and those who proceeded them. But now, circumstances had changed, the game had changed around them, and now Hayata claimed de facto rule over Atrisia, a once lowly clan of common bandits now leagues above the very same nobility who persecuted them.

But she wasn't present at the familiar confines of the Trade Federations headquarters, rather Aiko appeared as a hologram from the comfort of her office on Coruscant, observing proceeds with a cup of wine in one hand as she relaxed on a recliner.

"I'm swimming in more credits than i can spend, rather splendid, actually." Aiko bluntly remarked, taking a sip of her wine and smugly smirking.​

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

1st post

PEACEWALKER
OBJECTIVE 2: BASTION

THE_WOAD

Tags: Rurik Fel FN-999 Caarlyle Rausgeber Gideon Saigo

MATTERS OF URGENCY: A CONFERENCE ON BASTION - PART 1

West Wing, Fort Imperator,
Ravelin, Bastion (Early-Spring 876 ABY)

Everything in Fort Imperator was slowly changing around him, and even the grand chamber hall that hosted the conferences for the former Imperial Assembly had changed completely, though this was owed mostly in part to the assassination of Irveric Tavlar, along with the consequent repairs and renovation-work undertaken to achieve the desired safety standards. And yet, though Barran was supremely reluctant to embrace change on the best of days, Erskine found himself impressed with the design that replaced the look he remembered so well, though the sheer weight of memory alone wouldn't wash away the memory of the previous architectural layout. Much the same would be considered for what the Woad remembered of the Empire, recalling every warrior, general and statesman he met in the years before the dissolvement of the former Assembly.

'--or perhaps a change of strategy would be reshuffling the Navy over its incompetency to prevent the disaster on Noris.'

And though he liked and disliked many among the old political institution with just as much intensity either way, the memories of the years bygone were still seen in the fondest of lights in moments like these, one of the few aspects of the Lord-General's recent past that he genuinely could smirk about at that point. Despite it all, and every single stress it loaded onto his shoulders, Barran understood that the present-tense was still thoroughly exciting for a man of his advanced years, a small blessing of sorts for his colleagues.

'A tardy evacuation of assets, naval intelligence's failure to predict the upcoming assault on Noris, the clear inability of the Navy to keep the cultists at bay long enough... these merely a few points on a single paper of a hundred-page report dotting down the Imperial Navy's disastrous neglect of executing their role in the Winter Contingency.'

The Moffs who remained were mostly unknown to him, but Lord Erskine could still recognise many stalwart presences among them, it wouldn't take long for the Lord-General began to feel at home in a role he'd long since assumed to have ended rather unceremoniously since his promotion. Also adding to his sense of belonging was the fact the old Goidel had brought a Datapad to contribute to the discussion, containing footage and intel on the Winter Contingency's Norisian ground-battle segment in particular, though his curiosity on the fleeting matters kept him from ruining the flow of the discussion, choosing to catch Saigo's attention for the briefest of moments in the need to keep up with everyone instead.

'Plenty other factors at play in that regard though, but saying as we're on the topic, I am quite curious about the fleeting matter.... The Maw have been a consistent threat in naval matters for as long the Empire has been taking shots at them, and now I'm being told that our naval contingents who engaged them grew - what, complacent? Eh! It all stinks just a tad too much to believe that.'

Flicking cigarette ash into the little glass-bowl beside his podium-mounted microphone, Lord Erskine took a considerate moment to bow his head respectfully in Gideon's direction before continuing,'No offence intended to the right-honourable gentleman over yonder.... But it's plain to see that we know the Maw too well for that, as the Empire just so happens to be the only faction that has consistently taken the Maw's expansionism seriously.', whilst learning back to smoke, to consider the reactions of the other speakers in the room, and to stub out the remains of the cigarette in the process of letting Saigo reply. Barran did not want to impart the impression his colleague wasn't on the right track, for the general sentiment was still a sincere demand for answers, the sort the old Woad could understand and sympathise with easily.

'Something else is going on here.'

 

[Aerys Yvarro]

​

​

​

PEACEWALKER
OBJ 2: BASTION
​

Aerys had tagged along with DECEASED Erskine Barran to present her own report from the Winter Contingency. The Daughter of Corellia and Galidraan had survived by sheer luck, however; not all of her did. She lost her entire left arm it was broken, mangled from what was left of her post where she and the 313th swore to hold the line so that others could retreat. The young woman flexed her metallic arm as she listened to the politics, the way the old men bickered. They were dogpiling on the Navy, and while Aerys herself wasn't one for the void. She knew of Rausgeber if only briefly and in passing as a child of Dosuun.​

​

Underneath her breath she mumbled, "eίναι κρίμα που η μητέρα μου δεν είναι εδώ." Translated roughly to, it's a shame my mother isn't here, an implication that had Fiolette been present things could have turned out differently. Her voice was low enough that it could only be caught if one paid enough attention to the soldier. Aerys was otherwise silent, standing at attention in her dress uniform, her face still bearing the scars and stitches as she healed from her injuries.​

Nλίθιοι μαλάκες. A colorful phrase crossed her mind, the old Dosuunian language ripe with curses as she listened to the zingers. For once, Aerys was glad that she wasn't of importance. She could stand here and make notes about those present and how they presented themselves. Although knowing the people present - it was very likely they knew of her stock. Heritage and legacies she was doing her best to avoid, so she waited, and was happy to do so. Still, she wondered, if her mother was present - how differently things might have gone for the New Imperial Order. Instead, all the New Imperial Order had was Aerys who paled in comparison to the legacy her mother left behind. Not even her kinswoman, Josephine Halscott could match up to it.​

​

Gideon Saigo | FN-999 | Rurik Fel​

​

 

[Julius Haskler]

---

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B A S T I O N
Royal Authority
Fortress Imperator, Ravelin​

Tags: Rurik Fel ; DECEASED Erskine Barran ; Caarlyle Rausgeber ; Gideon Saigo ; FN-999 ; Aerys Myrrine

Julius should not have decided to partake in this meeting. He was, after all, one of Tavlar's inspirers regarding the Chiss Policy after the traumatising battle of Csilla. He had always felt close to the Chiss, and he wanted to protect them from the mysteries of the Unknown Regions. Sorcerers of Rhand, Dark Side adepts... in the end, the Maw had been the strongest. The diplomat had wishfully thought the Alliance and the Empire would manage to draw out clear zones of influence to protect, but again, his hopes and plans had vanished as Rurik stepped on the throne. The Knight was far more bellicose than his predecessor, and as he had expressed to Empress Vandiir so long ago, he feared that he or Jaeger Harrsk would bring the Empire into a difficult situation. Even with Jaeger's death, the War Hounds were now in place, and Julius's work had to start from the ground up again.

With stability in the Empire slowly winding away as wars and rebellions, the Moff had realised the only viable option for a safe future was union around the only figure all Imperials could recognise - the Emperor. The Pellaeonists were out of the picture, it was now a slow work of making the Tarkinists like him and the Felists genuinely collaborate. If a common programme could be established to solidify the political elites of the Empire, the popular basis could be slowly cemented into becoming more loyal to the Empire. But people never united under a common ideal - only politicians did. They needed a popular figure, a war hero to respect and follow.

The diplomat would have been too happy to express his views right now, but he also had to rebuy some kind of credit in the eyes of all the people present at this meeting. The disaster at Noris could be attributed to his proposals and analysis from a few years ago. He expected Lord Barran to jump at his throat the moment he opened his mouth, and Admiral Rausgeber to follow immediately afterwards. Julius's hostility towards the Warlords had always been known, and clashes with Rausgeber had been frequent, even though he had attempted to ease the relationship between Prefsbelt and Yinchorr by transferring a certain number of political prisoners to his authority.

Julius observed, quite fascinated, Rausgeber take his mask off. So, it was the truth. Kuat had really left a mark on the mighty and unalterable Grand Admiral. But it seemed the attack had left his intellectual skills intact, which was as much a blessing for the Empire, and a subject to keep an eye on for the Diplomatic Corps.
And as always, political rants and rivalries. It was tiring to see the same men, years and years through, keep fighting for the same subjects. Grand Moff Saigo's attack on the Grand Admiral was what pushed the Moff out of his secluded silence. After giving a respectful nod to the Emperor and a sympathetic smile to Nines, whom he had the honour to meet a few years ago, he decided to interrupt the growing argument.

"Excuse me, Grand Moff, but I think it is not really the place to quarrel with Grand Admiral Rausgeber. With all due respect, sir, I'm sure the Grand Admiral is fully aware of the... failures of his units at Noris, and I don't believe he is stupid enough to make the same errors in the next battle. I hope so. Something has been in play for years now, but I can't really put my finger on what would allow the Maw to fight back the most formidable navy of the galaxy. Maybe the Imperial Knights will provide an answer to what appears to be a question of the supernatural domain of things.

As the Emperor said, there is a clear need for reorganisation now that Noris has been lost. We must determine if we decide to hold on to the Redoubt, which has always been fortified for these kinds of eventualities, or if we withdraw from the salient to prepare a defence line further back in imperial space. If we retreat, we risk repeating the same kind of engagement as above Noris and allow the Maw to flank the Alliance, but we'll also have time to prepare a proper defence at Glee Anselm, which is an obliged point of passage to the heart of the Empire. What I do suggest is to hold the Redoubt to buy time for a proper defence to be mounted on Glee Anselm, but retreat once the danger is clear. Of course, every non-essential asset would have been put to safety beforehand. Further back even, we could establish a second line of defence around Iridonia, but I fear that if they reach this planet, we would be reduced to scorched earth tactics to deprive the Maw of vital resources needed for expansion.

As for the state of the Empire, I fear war might become endemic to our nation, and that we will have to live with it. There are not many things we can do to alleviate the pain and unrest of our people, but I think... liberalisation is in order. It would have been positive for the people to keep some way of expressing themselves, and perhaps a powerless Assembly was preferable to no Assembly at all. I understand the need for the centralisation of the Empire, and I've been a staunch defender of this idea for years now. But as the administration becomes more and more dependent on Bastion, the political landscape of the Empire will have to represent more accurately the ideas of our people, even if these representatives are powerless and have been chosen beforehand. I do not believe democratisation is in order, but censal suffrage, reserved for members of the military and vital industries, could be a way to delay the disloyalty of many citizens. Don't get me wrong, this is only a temporary solution, but with our backs to the wall, I don't think there is much place left for ideological absolutism. We must secure the loyalty of our citizens, and if we don't give them the impression to move a tiny bit in a direction that satisfies them, we will soon face an open revolt, and the Empire will fall. We cannot allow such a thing to happen.

The other solution, of course, would be stepping down our military to divert a part of the production to non-essential products, to ensure the leisure of our citizens is taken care of. I don't believe in building paradise worlds for resort uses, and I don't believe opiating our people will do good to a society we want to be clean of corruption and decadence."

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[Hall Mannarra]

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
Dubrillion | Several Klicks South of Secret Imperial R&D Facility
Local Time: 23:38
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Primary Objective: Escort Friendly Forces To The Imperial Weapons R&D Facility
Secondary Objective: Eliminate OpFor
TAG: Alex Eldar | Jordi Massad | Rika Hiro | Annor E-059 | Djorn Bline
GEAR: In Bio
​

Spoiler: Forces

Elements of the 181st Armored Division, 2nd Battalion, 3rd Company, 3rd Platoon

• XT-62 MBTb ‘331’ | Charlie 3-1 | [Command Tank] | [Radio Station knocked out temporarily, turret ring jammed from blast]
• XT-62 MBTb ‘332’ | Charlie 3-2
• XT-62 MBTa ‘333’ | Charlie 3-3 | [Column Lead Tank]
• XT-62 MBTa ‘334’ | Charlie 3-4

Elements of the 181st Armored Division, 2nd Battalion, 5th Company, 4th Platoon

• XV-60a APC ‘541’ | Delta 4-1 | [Command Vehicle]
• XV-60a APC ‘542’ | Delta 4-2
• XV-60a APC ‘543’ | Delta 4-3
• XV-60a APC ‘544’ | Delta 4-4

’FIRE, FIRE HEAT!’​

<”AGAINAGAINAGAINAGAIN!”> Kenth’s panic laden, cracking voice rang sharp over the intercom as he implored for another shot to be fired upon an RPG[1] team in the treeline to their left flank; his eyes widened as he could see the assistant anti-tank load another round into the tube the other man pointed at them. Hall’s last shot had missed its mark, flying over their heads.

<”UUP!”>

Without muttering a word, the young tank crewman fired the gun as soon as he heard Stege’s shout; the gunbreach of the dreaded L77A4 fiercely kicked back as the fin stabilized HEAT[2] shell darted out the barrel.

<”TARGEEET!”> the TC[3] exuberantly shouted as the shell exploded few feet in front of the RPG team; engulfed in a cloud of dust following a moment after a large fireball, there wasn’t even a cufflink remained of the terrorists that got caught in the blast. They were thoroughly vaporized.

<”NEXTTARGETNEXTTARGET! RIGHT, RIGHT, RIIIIGHT!”> At his sputtered command, the turret swung right with a mechanical whine; the image displayed through the gunner’s sight smudged and blurred under the static gun-sight. The rich clatter and clacking of a shell chambering into the gunbreach resounded in the fighting compartment as the turret swung around. <”HEAT UUP!”> <”STEADYYY!”> Reducing the rotation speed to accurately place the gun-sight on the infantry targets to the right of the advancing armored column, the young gunner placed the sight a few feet short of the target, intending to eliminate the small cluster of infantry hiding amongst the trees and vegetation with the shell’s overpressure resulting from its detonation upon contact with the soil.

<”OOON!”>

<”IDENTIFIED!”>

<”FIIRE!”>

Pulling back the trigger on the gunner sticks, the gunbreach violently thrusted backwards as the familiar, loud metallic beat of the firing pin slamming against the primer of the shell dinged in the fighting compartment. But alas, the shell struck a broad tree trunk, several meters left of the target the shell was intended for; chunks of wood tore free from the tree in the resulting detonation, flying in all directions as the tree collapsed to the ground with a protesting groan of its roots. Although retaining lethal accuracy even on the move thanks to the XT-62’s two-plane vertical stabilizer, the young gunner had failed to accurately compensate for the tank’s movement speed this time, resulting in the miss.

Reaching for the switch on the FCS[4] right above the gunner sticks, the young crewman switched to the coaxial E-Web Heavy Repeating Blaster as Stege reached for another HEAT shell to feed into the gun, and began holding down the trigger; the coaxial heavy repeater sharply warbled as it spewed a long winded salvo. The coax was easier to compensate for the tank’s speed while firing on the move, as you could see the volume of fire and shift the turret accordingly, by watching the tracer fire. The small cluster that was intended to be vaporized with a fin stabilized HEAT shell was mowed down by a hailstorm of red blaster bolts a moment after the miss.

Suddenly, the earth trembled in a thunderous explosion as an RPG struck ‘331’s turret. <”CHIIT! I THINK THEY GOT THE LT![5]”> Kale shouted in panic as a cloud of dust swallowed the command tank 20 meters in front of him. Although he referred to their platoon commander, Löwe, he was more worried for his comrades in arms assigned under his command in the tank: Lutz, Davin and Ewald. They were their platoon mates after all.

<”CAN’T CONFIRM!”> the TC shouted, his voice cracked with panic and concern. Although worried more than the others for the crew inside the armored confines of ‘331’, there was nothing they could do at the time, other than pray that the armor held. The thick dust cloud obstructed their view; thermals did not help the situation, either. <”OVERTAKE THEM IF THEY’RE OUT OF ACTION!” the young TC ordered his driver, eyes glued to the image on the screen before him, fed through the commander’s 360° panoramic periscope; his heart pounded against his chestplate, fearing for the worst as their tank plowed through the dust cloud.

Laying eyes on the tank in front of them, ‘331’s turret appeared to remain motionless. Quickly, the man raised the command tank over the command net using his radio station right beside him in arms reach to his side, but all he could hear was static on ‘331’s end.

Several unpleasant scenarios began to take form in the mind of the young tank commander. Motionless turret, external comms down… Did the warhead manage to penetrate the turret armor? Did the spalling from a successful penetration severely injure or god forbid, kill the crew within the fighting compartment? Or did the turret ring jam from the overpressure of the explosion, knocking out their external comms in the meantime?

Panicked and worried of the fate of his friends and his CO[6], the young man would be harshly reminded of the fact that he was still in combat, and it was not the time or the place to mull over such things as an ATGM[7], trailing from an unknown position from their two o’clock, slammed against a small chunk of ERA[8] blocks on the front right side of the hull, several hands-breath below the driver’s viewports.

The hull terribly shook under the counter detonation of the ERA blocks, pushing away the penetrating force of the projectile; the sound dampeners in their helmets barely suppressed the deafening ringing reverberating in the interior of the tank. Having caught a glimpse of the missile’s trajectory, the young gunner seized the initiative for the moment, and swung the smoothbore gun towards where he thought the ATGM crew was set up; barely hearing the command from his TC.

<”-FIIIREEE!”>

<”ON THE WAY!”>

Under heavy fire, the crew clung dearly onto their SOP[9] as best they can to retain a satisfactory level of efficiency in the face of their baptism of fire. They would calm down further, as a distinctly experienced, stoic, feminine voice resounded inside the ‘332’s fighting compartment over the Radio Station right besides the TC.

<Shadow to Cahrlie 3-2.> Alex said over mutual comms. <16th Company Troopers here to cover your asses, Sir. Don't stop for nothing until we reach destination. We got you.>

<”SHADOW, YOU’RE GOD SENT!”> Feeling somewhat relieved at the announcement of support arriving, the TC let out a sigh before squeezing the key of the radio to speak again. They were all aware of the 16th’s fame, having heard of their war stories passed on from NCO’s[10] and CO’s alike during their training back on Archais, mostly in the mess hall and in their down time.

Having calmed down, the young TC took a deep breath and squeezed the PTT[11] key on the handset to speak; his eyes remaining glued to the screen before him. He scanned the perimeter with his periscope to find and call out the next threat to his gunner. <”Sir, we’re taking heavy fire from multiple directions! If you can prioritize RPG and ATGM teams while we’re in transit, we can take care of the rest of them!”> The 16th’s would be an invaluable asset to them. As much as the periscopes -and the high quality thermal and night vision devices that came with them - provided them with considerable situational awareness, they could not cover all angles hundred percent of the time. Having extremely mobile infantry covering them in the air would negate that shortcoming of both the tanks and the trained yet inexperienced crew within them.

With the 16th’s descending on the opposing force, the incoming hail of heavy fire began to wane with each passing minute as the armored column and the elite shock infantry worked in tandem with one another as the convoy drew nearer to the imperial R&D facility.

​

Taking very sporadic and short lived contacts after the large ambush on the column, the crews within the few damaged vehicles spent the time repairing damaged modules on the move. ‘331’ in particular was back in action, the fate of the crew finally resolved. They were all alive, having a few bruises and long but shallow cuts here and there as the explosion had thrown them about inside the fighting compartment. The LT’s radio was operational once again, although cutting out from time to time. Though that was much preferable to him peeking out the commander’s cupola and waving signal flags to coordinate his platoon, exposing himself to enemy fire in the process.

Having reached visual range of the facility, the column had relatively reached the facility unopposed, save for the ambush.

Albeit that would change as the column was now forced to advance into the range of the hijacked defenses of the base, manned and unmanned alike in a rather narrow and harsh terrain; forced to face the very guns that were supposed to protect them from the foe that turned it against them.

​

Spoiler: Abbreviations

[1] RPG = Rocket Propelled Grenade.
[2] HEAT = High Explosive Anti-Tank.
[3] TC = Tank Commander.
[4] FCS = Fire Control System.
[5] LT = Lieutenant.
[6] CO = Commanding Officer.
[7] ATGM = Anti-Tank Guided Missile.
[8] ERA = Explosive Reactive Armor.
[9] SOP = Standard Operating Procedure.
[10] NCO = Non-Commissioned Officer.
[11] PTT = Push-To-Talk.

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

PEACEWALKER // TRADE FEDERATION INDUSTROPOLIS, AARGAU

Gat Tambor | Aiko Hayata​

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For Aerarii Tithe, it had always been about the credits.

His involvement in the Trade Federation had been curtailed during the early days of his Chancellorship. His movements, dealings and investments had been heavily scrutinised by his opponents, colleagues and staff. He longed for the days of relative obscurity afforded by the Vice Chancellor’s role, with all the trappings of power and access at his disposal with a fraction of the pubic gaze.

Thankfully, in the face of an impending election in which he was term-limited from running in, Tithe had instead returned his attention to his one true love - credits. Delegating - or rather abandoning - his governing duties to deputies and aides, the Aargauun had returned to his home planet for this most important of meeting. Only the secure Trade Federation hololink installed in his office within the sprawling Industropolis could be trusted to keep the conglomerate's secrets safe.

Tithe used the time while the call connected to review the finances. The necessary compartmentalisation of the project made the finances a challenge to manage without knowing the full extent of Tambor’s vision. He’d fired three senior accountants over decimal point errors in purchase orders, only for the fourth to explain that the orders were in fact correct, and that the scale of raw materials needed was beyond any project the Trade Federation has undertaken to this point. Whatever Tambor was scheming it was big, bigger than the galaxy was ready for.

“As well as the Core, uhh, affords these days,” he replied Tambor as the call connected. “Our holdings - as always I might add - continue to perform above the market baseline.” That Tithe had pushed through countless pieces of pro-Corporatist legislation during his tenure went a long way to shoring up their financial position. “And I find that hard to believe my dear,” he added to Aiko. “I've found expenditure limited only by your imagination and, uhh, proclivities.”

“I’ve just sent though the latest financials, in the black as always,” Tithe explained. Deals inked with terms that extracted maximum profit from supplied with little to no exposure for the TF were standard practice amongst the Aargauun contract managers. “But as I’ve noted before, a little more - how do you say - breaking the silos, would help ensure a positive credit flow.”