Mission Peacewalker | NIO

[Annor E-059]

Annor E-059
Objective 1: The Sum of All Fear.
Writing With: Jordi Massad , Djorn Bline , Hall Mannarra , Alex Eldar, Rika Hiro .
Narrative Tags: DECEASED Erskine Barran
Dubrillion Surface, Imperial Navy Research Facility 'Peacewalker'

Annor and James came to the tall, thick blast doors of the Imperial Armoury deep inside the underground base and faced a pair of armed guards. "Only personnel with passes are permitted entry. Got a pass?" The big burly, smooth-headed man asked. Annor reaches steadily inside her jacket and presents the featureless white access card to the guard.

The guard turns away and presses it against a square sensor panel on the wall. A series of four diodes on its' edges flash a green. "Alright, you check out." He holds out a hand and halts James' advance after he goes to follow the tall Woman. "Where do you think you're going, young feller?" Annor halts between the pair of open blast doors regarding the scrawny James and the meathead gravball enthusiast that has him stopped.

"He's with me. I need an extra pair of hands." Annor's lie was delivered with unshakable conviction, hardly the first time infiltrating a hostile position. Annor wasn't particularly charismatic, nor was she warm. When 'in-character', she didn't try to be either; it was too forced.

"Hmm." The hooligan turned rebel regards James for a moment. "Shoulda' brought someone bigga aye. If either of you girls needs a hand, give ol' Boki a shout." Boki smacks a clenched fist against his own chest with a grunt.

"Don't count on it," Annor replied, to be met with a derisive chuckle; James and Annor walk through brightly-lit aisles of high shelves loaded with pallets bearing crates filled with all-manner of Imperial equipment. James leads Annor to where a Rampart Mark Four powered assault armour suit was suspended in a constraint field; Annor walks up to it, cranes her head upward, and stares into the green visor. "Apparently, the only way to access the on-board software is to put the suit on."

James raised an eyebrow, looked to 'Anne', and gestured toward the matte black suit. "Are you sure? Can't we just plug a computer into the armour and run a diagnostic?" Annor feints a thoughtful muse, pretending to not be intimately familiar with this suit of armour. Annor's suit of Rampart armour, complete with E-059 stamped in the blocky white letter on the breastplate.

"Maybe." Annor pauses, placing an open palm across the fabric covering her mouth; she then lowers it. "But I'm worried it'll detect it as some kind of foreign intrusion." Annor explains calmly, and James nods.

"Okay." The young man felt his face heat like an oven. "Just tell me what I need to do."

A short time later, Annor stood in a form-fitting bodysuit on a raised metal dais. Holding her arms up while James operates armatures from a console, entombing his new acquaintance in the shadow-black powered armour. James thought she was athletic and attractive in equal measure. James thought to himself wordlessly. I hope the monster doesn't get her.

The visage of an Elite, reputed to be a supersoldier without equal, is lowered down over Annor's head, her face disappearing behind the death mask. The Rogue-class helmets' hermetic seal inflates with a quiet whine. James watches Anne remain caught in a frozen repose; he mosied over toward the armoured woman. "So, have you managed to get it working." The Golem's head swivels slowly, and its thin green visor meets his gaze. "Anne?" she didn't answer. "Is there something wrong?" James' voice softened.

"Thank you for helping me get this far." The armour took a few steps forward; black snakes snapped from its spine, their ends spit turquoise sparks. Its' palm fell on James' shoulder, his spine stiffened, and his jaw went slack; the revelation steadily unveiled itself; he knew nobody could set those suits into locomotion other than their masters. All of them had heard the stories. "You have a good heart." The other hand fastened around James' pistol in its' holster at his hip. "But I don't."

James felt something narrow press against his chest; he held both hands up submissively. "Wa-" Annor's thumb flicks the blaster, setting over two notches and pulls the trigger. There was a bright azure flash between them, and James fell onto his spine, eyelids shut and nothing but the faint sound of air whistling up and down his nostrils; a deep sleep.

Annor looks around the armoury through the transparent moss-tinted visor; it is filled with a smorgasbord of weapons. Annor's lips split into a wicked smile.

 

[Jordi Massad]

2nd 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 FEDAYEEN: KANDARANS ON DUBRILLION - PART 2

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

Our Imperial comrades will find themselves smiling today, for I will make it so.​

Hearing explosions from the redoubt at the valley's mouth, followed by ululations, praises and disruptor-fire, Kandara's time to shine was finally upon the Shadow's Mujahids, washing over them like a rushing tide at the edge of the shore. The rain was absent, warm as it was in the heat of the jungle, but it still hadn't stopped them from feeling like damp, rainy torrents had cleansed their souls once and for all.

Purpose had found Massad's Fedayeen, and with rapid, timely precision that it seemed like the true joy awaited their explosive cue to proceed. A joy unlike any Scimitar had ever known before.

<"Ayad, we move to the encampment. That is where we set-up to coordinate with the others, I have an asset to think about after all.">

<"Copy that, sir. I have a squad at the ready, each picked for the purpose of spear-heading this effort. Zulfiqar out!">​

'Ayad's got us well-covered again, the lad's on fire at the moment. And because of these recent developments, it seems that you and I can just stroll our way to the new command-centre.... Easy going, makes for quick reports to file out on Bastion anyway.'

Chuckling as he initiated the walk northwards, Rashid replied,'I can personally approve his presence among the others. Now don't get me wrong, I was expecting him to be a tad wet behind the ears still, but he is progressing well under your direction. This much is certainly obvious.', with eyes darting from one direction to the next, keeping a close eye on the formation as their brothers in arms ran hither and yon to their ambush-positions. This was their natural state of being, the essence of life with meaning as according to the Kandaran traditions, a perpetual fight to achieve ultimate order, glory and serenity alike, and seeing it all transpiring in such a way would offer the most intense of rushes through every last one of the nerves in Jordi's anatomy.

'Shukran, though there is still much we can teach him. Much he is willing to learn.'

<"Zulfiqar, standby.... Begin.">​

Within minutes, the Maxim-affiliated units holding the encampment were wiped out completely, with any and all likelihood of a rout eradicated by a clean full-encirclement ambush in the process, losing none to the traitors for the second consecutive cleanly-executed action of the day. Stacking the armoured cadavers in a pile, the others would stay busy after their small gains, for these were the most important steps of all to take, and Massad was still grateful for it all the same. Covered soon later in fuel and deadwood, Jordi would let Rashid lead the way as they passed the fire-preparations on the way to the new command-centre location, seeing the smoke above the trees soon after the beginning of their campsite appraisal, a dark but realistic aspect to war that even the most green of recruits could understand easily by then.

'Jordi, follow me. I think I've found something.'

Battlecries and ululations followed again, but in celebration of their successes and in celebration of the fact nothing had been forgotten in their time spent apart, but Scimitar would choose to leave his brethren alone to rejoice without him for a while; there was one tent in particular that had taken Rashid's attention, and fortunately for Jordi, this choice would result in finding something that would prove supremely useful in the next phase of the operation. A blood-spattered (though fully-working) map-holographic table, one such that contained the mapping and blip specs that originally belonged to the vanquished traitors, and much to Scimitar's pleasant surprise, retaining the blip-projections of more than a few of the staunch Imperial contingents in the area - lighting up their day's work ahead and perhaps setting the tone for the rest of their deployment on Dubrillion.

'Good work, brother.... Now, we link with the others and make good use of our presence here. Watch this.'

<"All Taskforce Imperials, this is Codename: Scimitar! Requesting coordinators' callsigns, encrypted intel cued to send.... We'll protect you as well as we can from the trees, just watch your fire and keep map-holographics within sight. Further coordination needed.">​

 

[FN-999]

N I N E S
BASTION - ROYAL AUTHORITY
​

Interacting With: Aerys Myrrine | Caarlyle Rausgeber | DECEASED Erskine Barran | Gideon Saigo | Rurik Fel | Julius Haskler

The lieutenant colonel cautiously took his seat.
​

FN-999 briefly scanned his surroundings, not so naive as to assume he would find familiar faces but instead simply counting the others with him. Emperor Fel himself dominated the table both physically and psychologically, and FN-999's memory flashed to a scene of himself desperately prostrating before a Knight of Ren as his life was nearly sucked out of his body. Before he could risk making his anxiety visible, the lieutenant colonel calmed himself, using focused breathing techniques he had learned as a First Order stormtrooper to prolong his breath underwater.

It's okay. This man is NOT that Knight. He is your lord, and he has generously called you, a mere stormtrooper, here today. Compose yourself.

A little discipline had always worked to beat FN-999 back into shape, and he found himself calmed as he reassured himself of his purpose. He refocused on his immediate surroundings just in time to hear a male voice speak. As he turned to face the speaker, it took all his remaining concentration not to let his surprise show on his face.

In his twenty-five years as a stormtrooper, FN-999 had never seen a NCO with any wounds worse than old and thin battle scars, evidently having years to heal undisturbed while far behind the front. However, unlike some of his younger and more idealistic subordinates, he did not see this as evidence of cowardice or corruption. Having received orders from dozens of NCOs in two major nation-states, he understood that physical distance from the dangers of the battlefield allowed generals to think unmolested by fears of death, and consequently create rational strategies that had led the stormtroopers to victory time and time again.

Yet this man was an entirely different story. Despite wearing the insignia of a fleet admiral, the man addressing the room on the failings of the navy had as much durasteel in him as he had flesh. Furthermore, the flesh that remained on his face was warped and torn, a respirator barely covering what remained of his mouth. FN-999 had thought his experience on Noris had been horrible enough, but this man's physical scars outweighed his mental scars tenfold.

With a sudden snap back to the present, FN-999 realized that he had been primarily focused at not staring at the admiral, neglecting the debate in front of him. Respectfully pushing the admiral's terrible but stable physical condition aside in his brain, the lieutenant colonel returned his attention to the other speakers.

Another man, wearing the insignia of a Grand Moff, echoed the sentiments of the ruined admiral in calling for a withdrawal from Chiss space while also advocating reform within the Navy. The next speaker was Lord Erskine Barran, a man who he had coordinated with in the defense of Csilla and who he respected as an effective leader. Lord Barran brought up a point that struck FN-999's interest: perhaps there was a more complicated factor behind the failure of Winter Contingency. Yet another man unknown to the lieutenant colonel continued the conversation before he could speak up, posing a choice between a static defensive and a defense-in-depth within the New Imperial realms. He also introduced a political philosophy of centralization and de jure democratization, bringing a new element into the discussion. Personally, FN-999 was clueless when it came to the politics of governance, his only experience with leadership being leadership over specialized soldiers.

However, it was never too late to learn.

"Thank you for granting me the honor of speaking here today." introduced FN-999 submissively, aware that everyone around him outranked him considerably.

"As we saw on Noris, we lost many, many good men needlessly. My regiment fought alongside the 117th, taking heavy casualties as Maw acolytes infiltrated our ranks. In my twenty-five years of combat service, I have never seen a threat greater than that the Maw collective currently poses. In many ways, they are similar to the Byrn'adul hordes that terrorized the galaxy not too long ago, as well as the reptilian invaders that devastated Dosunn in my final days as a First Order stormtrooper. We cannot defeat them with numbers, as their armies warp even the basest of creatures into war machines. If they were the Byrn'adul or the Dosunn raiders, I would recommend a doctrine of grand battleplans, using our superior central command structure to execute advanced combat maneuvers, severing their supply lines and targeting their blind spots."

"However, the Maw is unlike either organic horde before them. They have intelligent and powerful commanding officers capable of controlling frigate-sized war machines with efficiency comparable to that of any New Imperial legion. I have seen Force-wielding Maw elites create illusions so powerful that stormtroopers, the physical and mental 'tip of the spear', fire on their own comrades, believing without a doubt that they are enemy marauders."

"I admit, I have little knowledge of the navy or naval combat. If I may be so bold, I believe that discussion of the navy and its role in the struggle against the Maw is best left to those more knowledgeable on its inner workings. However, I may be able to make a broader political inquiry. We should make the atrocities of the Maw on Csilla and their trickery on Noris well known to the public so that they are aware of the injustice their government is fighting to defeat. Furthermore, by spreading news of the Maw's genocide in our war propoganda, we can effectively unite bickering political groups by providing them with an existential threat greater than their petty squabbles, threatening all of them. That way, war support will increase while promoting political tranquility and unity at home, giving Emperor Fel time to consolidate his authority and provide an image of stable leadership at home."

"Finally, I suggest that if we are to successfully defeat the Maw, then we must treat their army not as a brainless horde or coalition of insurgents, but as a professional-quality force centered around shock troops, light cavalry, effective bioweapons in the place of MBTs and SPAs, and small numbers of elite commandos."

 

[Rurik Fel]

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

​

Such was the nature of the totalitarian. Assembled around him were men with aims in mind. But it was difficult to discern if those aims aligned solely with the Empire or merely had the guise of such in order to sway the Emperor in their favor. Of course, it could never be the burden for all of them to bear to brave the strife as one and heave to them their own heap of accountability in assurance their final victory be achieved.

Moment after moment in these tribulations he understood the strife of his predecessor more and more. Tavlar, by the moment of his death, was a broken man. Though it inflicted the most visible and most visceral scars, Rurik hardly deemed the violent sport of war as the culprit. After all, it's been said that conquering is the easy task, but swinging off the mount and beginning to rule that is the truly difficult part. Were this as simple as marching out in Ironclad Crusade time and time again, this war might've already been run. But rebel seditionists, special interests, strained supply chain and devastated Imperial outlands made the prospect of continuing total war a gut-wrenching pursuit.

"I will not divert any political or economic resources from this war until this war is done. Our people will find respite when our struggle is done, to provide a false veil of illusionary comfort to them is a failed pursuit with negligible beneficial outcomes." Rurik states in reply to Haskler before his attention shifts to Rausegeber.

"The Navy has faced a string of defeat now, Admiral Regent. While it was able to secure our assets at Kuat, yes, it failed to evacuate Noris in a timely manner. The ability of our fighting men and women in the ground theatres are not in question, per the Legion Commander's testimony. However, our ability to wage war in the stars is clearly compromised. What troubles me so is not purely the Maw but the Alliance all the same. Their planting of the seeds of chaos within our Empire is clear, even if they continue to feign ignorance of their sponsorship of rebel and terrorist activities within the Empire. We can claim as many victories as we wish against the Maw but until the rebel threat is extinguished, there is little hope for our Empire- thus. I believe it is time I reveal the final contingency. The key to our salvation and ultimately, our victory." Rurik said before he produces a data disc, inserting it into the embedded console of the meeting table before a holographic projection centers itself within view of those present.

​

"For years, the Empire has studied the schematics and blueprints to this forgotten weapon, Death Star. Were it not for saboteurs within the ranks of the failed, Sith-puppeted Galactic Empire, it would've secured the reign of the Iron Sun over the Galaxy for hundreds of years to come. We will not make the same mistake. We will not be held to the fate of the same planet-killing instruments of death wielded by the Maw which annihilated Csilla. The fate of the Galaxy will be in the hands of the Empire once more. The Maw, the Alliance...all of them, will be faced with a dilemma. To submit...or perish. This will be the key to our final victory." He said before shutting off the projection.

"Are there any questions?" He asked simply. If he didn't have his grip fastened around the ruling parties of the Empire before, he'd assured in that moment- he would now.

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

2nd post

PEACEWALKER
OBJECTIVE 2: BASTION

THE_WOAD

Tags: Rurik Fel FN-999 Caarlyle Rausgeber Gideon Saigo Aerys Myrrine Julius Haskler

MATTERS OF URGENCY: A CONFERENCE ON BASTION - PART 2

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

And there it was, illuminated in all it's holographic glory, unlike anything the Stormchaser had ever laid eyes on before, going well beyond the means of it's descriptions in the stories he heard in the days of his youth in the process.

The Deathstar.

History's most terrifying Imperial invention, history's very own nightmare - and it was bringing a smirk to the lips of the Woad in particular.

'Heh! Never thought I'd live t'see the day!'

Stepping out from his podium stand to study the projection a little more closely, the old Woad would find himself sitting atop one of the stairs that led to his podium, lighting a cigarette before returning his gaze to the bright, glowing sphere that illuminated the Emperor's mask in a cold, pale-blue light. Fearsome, even in it's small-scale form, though this was owed in part to everyone's differing levels of knowledge on all the lore that remained firmly in the safe confines of historical record, giving firm credence to their reasons for being so awestruck. Blueprints of a symbol so ancient it could have been argued by some to have never been built at that point in the Galaxy's history, a weapon so powerful that myth would shroud the real truth of it's existence from the moment it destroyed Alderaan, and so potent was this myth that Jedi and Sith alike still feared it's power in the 9th Century ABY - a true example of the Empire's vicious ingenuity.

'Long have I dreamed of seeing such an engineering-wonder in person.... An' before anyone else has this or that final say on the matter, I'll jus' say,"I'm backing this all the way if everyone gives it the go-ahead.", this time. Everyone else can figure it out, but my statement of intent is now known to all - so this particular matter is as good as finalised on my part.'

If ever there had been a definable point of no return, in the Lord-General's commitment to something many believed could spell the downfall of an Empire that had seemingly forgotten the harsh lessons of their ancient predecessors, that moment was it, and Lord Erskine would find himself very aware of this fact in this moment of moments. But would Barran back away in horror? Folding in on his own curiosity and going back on his word, making a fool of himself for finally becoming a man who minced his words at the pinnacle moment?

The smirk on his face would tell the truth of the matter, and with the dewy reverence in his eyes betraying his complete unwillingness to shy away from the holographic projection, his fate, and the prospect of suffering the same doom as the first empire to make use of the same concept.

'I can't speak for any other right-honourable speakers this evening, but I can speak for myself in admitting that I'm done playing to the Galaxy's skewed take on morality! THIS WAS LONG OVERDUE!!!!'

An ancient weapon so powerful, bearing such a reputation that it had silenced everyone else in the room, centuries upon centuries after the original Deathstar's destruction. In any other circumstances, Barran would have wheezed and chuckled at every mouth that dared hang agape, but time had marched on much too far to find their silence funny, and in humour's place would stand a clear and present fury at the perceived apprehension. Seeing their behaviour as little more than meek cowardice, the old man stood up to stare the others down, seeing who among them were more hopelessly doubting the Emperor's plan, seeing who would shy and veer away from a concept still in it's infancy. Some were just awe-struck, considered to be positive responses in comparison to a fair amount of the others he could see, and it was these in particular that the Lord-General's eyes were seeking out in that moment, looking for malcontents who feared the implications far too much for his liking.

'Perspective! That certain something that many here seem to lack.... Wake up, ladies an' gentlemen. For none, not even the Galactic Alliance are playing by the rules any more.'

 

[Caarlyle Rausgeber]

RAVELIN
THE IMPERIAL ASSEMBLY
Admiral Regent
The Monster
Rurik Fel | DECEASED Erskine Barran | Aerys Myrrine | Gideon Saigo | Julius Haskler | FN-999

Carlyle sneered, or at least as much as he physically could as the Navy, his Navy was rounded upon by that worm Saigo. Insolent ponce. But he was not wrong. Nor was he entirely correct. But Carlyle would not allow for this smear against his subordinate personnel to stand. Clasping the respirator from his mouth, Carlyle went on the attack. "There have been issues in regard to adapting doctrine to the Maw, as with all conflicts Grand Moff." Rausgeber took a deep, raspy breathe, "But to lay Naval Intelligence, and the Navy as the only failure in the Noris campaign betrays a lack of knowledge of grand strategy...." Another raspy breathe, "I believe that while the Navy perhaps did not perform as expected, the high casualty rates yielded by the Maw are....." He gagged, and reached for his respirator, clasping it to his face, while wagging a nagging finger, he pulled it away after two sharp breathes, "Unable to allow us a force to train up against them. But to think that COMPNOR, the ISB, far more advanced branches of the intelligence apparatus are not to blame is inconceivable." He scowled at glared at Saigo with those tired eyes, saliva, blood and pus dripping from his chin, "I will not have my career hung for this folly."

Carlyle pulled his respirator back to his face, and looked to the Lord General. While Rausgeber had always considered the Galidraani contingent far too.... Brutish for his tastes, the man was not entirely incorrect art his assessment. The Empire out of all powers that be, was the only one who seemed to take offensives to the Maw. The Alliance. The Jedi. Crusaders. Mandalorian vermin. They all had taken a gloves off approach. Or in the case of the Alliance, decided that a continued defensive war into the Core was to be their goal. Carlyle felt his head nodding at the man's assessment. But shot him a glance at the referral of 'something else'. What was this? Some grand conspiracy? Another Lord Halketh situation to be unveiled. Still, Rausgeber stilled himself. He would let this play out to his amusement.

The Admiral Regent drummed his fingers as the new comer, some Lieutenant Colonel decided to involve himself in the affairs. It was not necessarily unheard of for the Moff Council to invite newcomers to their ranks. Specialists in the realm of intelligence, bureaucrats and the like to explain or elaborate on issues to the Emperor and his associates. He listened to the grunts report with a quiet, not disdain. But cool condescension. He appreciated the man did not make any observations as to the Navy's performance. But did not expect, nor intend to understand his musings as to the Maw's military doctrine. Nevertheless, he would be sure to access the minutes of the meeting sometime later, and ensure Naval Command were aware of this. That their marines take this advice on board for analysis.

Then Rurik Fel spoke up, and Carlyle felt a chill up his spine. The Emperor addressed the chamber, and Carlyle's already cold features somehow grew paler. His eyes were averted as the performance of the Navy against the Maw was disparaged quite openly. The sting of shame burned Carlyle, made him feel weak. Insignificant. The Emperor destroying him. Piece by piece. He felt his grip around the respirator tighten with each word. Yes there had been failings. But it hardly fell at his feet. Surely there were others who brooked responsibility. Not him. Rausgeber remained a stoic lack of attack which faltered when the Emperor presented his new weapon.

The Admiral Regent's tired eyes lit up, and widened. His hand trembled with the respirator pressed to his face, as Rausgeber's gaze passed to the Lord General and then the weapons platform. A Death Star. Rausgeber swallowed, and allowed the Lord General to heap praise on the project, before expressing himself. Someone had to restore sanity here. "My liege!" Rausgeber wheezed, "With all due respect, such a weapon is but folly. A failure, pre-determined by its history!" Carlyle gagged, "This weapon!" He jabbed an accusatory finger to the doomsday device, "Will be the end of the Empire! The failures of Palpatine will be but repeated and reaped upon us!" He spat, flecks of septic pus smearing the table before him.

"My liege, to escalate our war production to this scale, and style of weapon would create panic sir! Distrust!" He reached for the respirator, and took a sharp hit of unadulterated oxygen, "While the Lord General may laud this type of development, the fact is sir! The fact is!" Rausgeber wheezed, and coughed, catching his statement mid way, "The fact is, we become no better than the Maw with this weapon. It will become a target. A symbol to even the Alliance, that we are no better than these heathens!" Carlyle snapped, "We cannot proceed on this juncture, with all due respect sir, it will spell our doom."

 

[Gideon Saigo]

All words beyond the projection of the ultimate weapon fell on deaf ears. Doomspeech, praises, and anything in between - silent, muffled by the Grand Moff's awe at the engineering wonder set before his eyes.

The final solution to resolving the Galactic Question.

"This station is now the ultimate power in the universe."

"I suggest we use it."
​

Rurik Fel | DECEASED Erskine Barran | Aerys Myrrine | Caarlyle Rausgeber | Julius Haskler | FN-999

 

[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

As his proposals for a de-escalation inside of the imperial society were brushed off like a minor inconvenience, Julius could not help but feel like he had been humiliated like never before. Even if he had, from time to time, spoken up against late Imperator Tavlar, never had he been treated with such disrespect. He knew he was not a man of great importance to the Empire, a Moff among so many more. But still, it left a bitter taste to see that the Emperor had a particular goal in mind, and would cast aside any other proposals. Yes, the days of the Assembly were over, and the Moff did not regret them at all. They had been the very occasion of distrust and covert war between Warlords that had made the Empire nigh ungovernable. As he had stated a bit earlier, he was content with the administrative centralisation of the Empire.

However, he noticed that still, unity and trust were far from given in this Council. Again and again, the highest-ranking officials of the Empire tore the unity of the Empire apart through endless squabbles. Julius was pessimistic, and he was convinced that the division reigning in the Council would one day translate to the Empire itself. Whilst the Empire had been kept united thanks to a brutal change of power, it was not long before the Iron Fist would start to get even so slightly loose, and the fractures to appear again. Again, this had been slowed down thanks to the elimination of the Pelleaonists, but the cost was high, and it meant civil unrest everywhere.

Yinchorr was calm because it was united behind a leader and a goal: retaking Anaxes was the highest priority of the exiled Anaxsi, and they devoted almost every single one of their efforts to it. Julius Haskler had to keep his head cool and navigate between the pressing matters of the Empire and his burning wish to see Anaxes as free as Galidraan or Serenno, but he was slowly gaining ground inside of the Senate and inside the Alliance's space. Meanwhile, he was there, sitting at a table of warhounds, of militaristic rulers with one obsession in mind: order, and no common ground to achieve it.

On the matter of internal unrest, he would propose something else to the Emperor once the meeting was over.

Drops of nervous sweat began dropping between the diplomat's shoulders when he realised where the Emperor was taking them. A Death Star? Had Fel lost his mind during the last battles? Or was Julius the one being a fool by refusing to understand what this hologram meant? He could not really perceive the enormity of the proposal before he understood the work was already underway. So it was for this reason that the new Emperor had disbanded the Assembly, had calmly accepted the last losses and had shrouded the Empire in secrecy. It was for this reason that the Empire had so audaciously darted towards Kuat, and so miserably failed. Because not a single trooper knew for what they were fighting. They were fighting for a new class of mass-destruction weapons, one that would make the Sith nuclear bombing runs pale in comparison to the horror that would unfold next.

A sense of urgency began to fill the Moff as he heard Barran talk and approve noisily in favour of such a weapon. Slowly, a new look on the Assembly was forming in Haskler's eyes. He viewed them, now, clean of their deeds of the past war. They were talking about reducing whatever amount of the galaxy to ruins in order to achieve security. Rurik Fel could have been possessed by Wilhuff Tarkin at the moment, he would not have heard a difference. This was pure madness. At last, the leader of the Felists was, in a twisted form of irony, turning Tarkinist at the moment where Julius felt he had to distance himself from too extreme measures. And from what he heard of Rausgeber's desperate speech, he felt the same, although maybe not for the same reasons.

With an internal sigh, Julius realised he could not go against the will of the Emperor, and he could not support Rausgeber too openly, or he would really end on Rurik's list of disposable elements. This could not be the mistake that tipped the tide against him. He had to propose something else, a third way to avoid complete disaster, yet satisfy the Emperor. He could not be heard criticising the project, but he could very well criticise its use.

"My Emperor... This space station is bringing us back to the days when the Sith controlled the Empire. I need not remind anyone at this Council how past projects akin to this one ended: the first Death Star, ill-conceived, allowed a group of rebels to effectively decapitate the High Command of the Empire, and deprive its war machine of the most senior elements it could rely on; the second Death Star, unfinished, allowed the rebels to kill the Emperor, his lieutenant, a vast portion of the fleet, a Super Star Destroyer, an entire Legion of the best Stormtroopers of the time; the World Devastators, a useless project that ended up costing more than it truly served the Empire; the Eclipse and Eclipse II, that served as an open target for the New Republic and crippled, even more, the Empire; the Galaxy Gun, that put down any hopes of the Empire re-emerging at that time...; nowadays, the Mercy, that slowed down the Maw for months and achieved no tactical victory... Our history is filled with stories of gigantic behemoths that serve only as a target and a financial waste.

We never strike harder than the enemy's most prized possession, meaning we cannot cripple the Alliance more than by destroying Alliance One or by taking Coruscant. We cannot cripple the Maw more than by destroying their Super Star Destroyers. For long, we could not be crippled more than by losing either our capital or our Emperor. And now, I hear you suggest replacing either of these with a bigger, more visible, and perhaps more vulnerable vessel. I cannot go against your will, my Emperor, and I believe this station will be finished whatever I object. But I wish to offer an idea that would make the station less valued for us. Instead of filling it to the brim with elite soldiers and seasoned officers, use a brain droid. Fully automate the station, and we will not fear losing it as much as we would if living persons were aboard.

There is something else I wish to add, and I concur with Grand Admiral Rausgeber's analysis. We cannot use this station against planets. Let it become a symbol of our enduring will, a symbol of peace, a symbol of unrelenting vengeance against our enemies, but never a symbol of terror or blind destruction. I will not condone the Empire destroying planets to keep other factions in line, and I would rather die ten times at the hands of any Mawite than let us use this station to destroy a world. Using it as a spatial advantage by destroying fleets? Yes, this is reasonable. Destroying worlds because they are on the wrong side of the Iron Curtain? Never will I let that happen, because we would become even worse than the Sith who used nuclear bombs on each world they lost, to try and deny us true victory. We would become less than them, and I cannot accept it."

---

---

---

 

[Aerys Yvarro]

​

​

​

PEACEWALKER
OBJ 2: BASTION
​

She heard Nines speak, and speak of the First Order in a way she had only learned from the textbooks. Dosuun did recover, not without sacrifices, Aerys gave a solemn nod toward Nines - whether or not they saw it was of no consequence to the woman. The trooper watched as the men went back and forth over the station. She too had seen it, and she knew her history - weapons like these hardly became anything more than something to embolden the likes of the Alliance and worse the Maw. She watched as Rausgeber objected, as others objected and/or concurred and so she took a step out of the shadows and came to stand beside her Lord General DECEASED Erskine Barran and let her metallic hand glisten in whatever light reflected from it.​

​

"I am but a humble soldier, who survived Noris by sheer luck," began Aerys as she looked at Rurik Fel with ease, "use the station as a decoy, let the Alliance and Maw both focus on it, and attack with all their vigor. For it is what they will do, but the bulk of our forces should not be there, but rather be ready to take whatever action you deem necessary." She paused and looked around the room only once and then continued. "Set screening traps for their fighters, and utilize basic stealth techniques behind larger planetary bodies, cutting engines until the last moment. A little something out of the old First Order playbook."​

​

"Whatever the true target, it must not be revealed until the Maw and the Alliance both have taken the bait. We must however put on enough of a show at the station, for them to bite. I hope... Lord General, I do not speak out of turn when I say that the 313th is ready to do so." Aerys looked around the room, and added, "of course, we shall follow your wisdom, my Emperor." It burned to say it, however; Aerys knew that in the end, it would be Fel's call. She could only hope that since the station was going to be built anyway, it could be put to better use. The last organization to use such a weapon as far she knew from history had been the One Sith. The First Order's fledgling navy led the way and bought precious time for the Galactic Alliance to lay waste to it, while their own forces were brutally cut down, wave after wave over Castameer.​

​

Although, Aerys feared she may have given her heritage away, she took a step back behind the Lord General and hoped that wasn't the case.​

​

RIP Carlyle Rausgeber | FN-999 | Gideon Saigo | Julius Haskler​

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[Rika Hiro]

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

"What's going on outside?"

For his questions, the Mirialan was quickly answered in the forms of panicked radio chatter and the distant background noise of blaster fire and shouts. His comrade also picked up on it, nervously grabbing his blaster from where he had put it down. However, the Atrisian Rika seemed unfazed, and it made the Mirialan rebel wonder if she was really professional or just stupid.

It couldn't of been the Imperials, could it? No way they'd of gotten on them this fast, this facility was a backwater with minimal security. His paranoia which had steadily crept on him this entire time, spiked exponentially with each distant thud and shout of terror he heard on his comm. He wiped the sweat from his brow, his gaze flicking between the only two other occupants, his comrade busy trying to break the door and the Atrisian SIA liaison who as ever was sullen and chilling against the wall.

"Why are you so calm?" he asked with a tone of annoyance, and his question was answered in the form of the girl brandishing a blaster pointed at his chest. Two shots rang out, and the Mirialan looked down at the two burn marks on his chest and looked up in horror before slumping against the wall. His comrade was answered in turn, a clean shot to the head that rendered any cry of panic silent.

Rika looked at the two dead men and shrugged, activating her commlink to Massad's while she calmly moved around the room and checked still warm corpses for any signs of intel.

"Targets eliminated; you're good to move inside scimitar." ​

 

[FN-999]

N I N E S
BASTION - ROYAL AUTHORITY

Interacting With: Aerys Myrrine | Caarlyle Rausgeber | DECEASED Erskine Barran | Gideon Saigo | Rurik Fel | Julius Haskler

The Emperor's proposal took a few seconds to FN-999 to process.

Then, the sheer enormity of the project Fel had proposed hit the lieutenant colonel like a thousand kilo weight.

He was planning to re-create the Death Star.
​

FN-999 took a long moment to process further. As an eight-year-old child conscripted for the then-fledgling First Order, he never could have imagined that he would one day be among the first to be informed of the recreation of the most famous superweapon in history. When FN-999 had read of the Death Star in the history books provided by the Order, he had always been amazed by its phenomenal power, but terrified at the thought of billions of people being vaporized in a single instant. If such a weapon had ever been turned against the First Order, his young self would have peed his pants and then run away screaming. As an adult, FN-999 had come to realize that there were far more encroaching dangers than fantastic planet-destroying superlayers. In a sense, Dosunn had gone through even worse.

Still, the value of such a weapon was not lost on the lieutenant colonel. He understood the arguments of its proponents, the threat it posed both physically and psychologically to its foes. If the New Imperials had a weapon that could destroy anything pitted against it in a single shot, enemy dreadnoughts would become little more than fifteen-kilometer liabilities. However, he was morally conflicted on the thought of planetary annihilation. On one hand, if the entire civilian population of a planet could be vacated so that only hostile forces remained on a planet, a Death Star weapon could prevent tens of thousands of Imperial casualties while wiping out the enemy to their last man. Yet if a planet's civilian population could not be evacuated, they risked slaughtering millions of innocents and creating massive, economically destabilizing unrest. Furthermore, targeting a militarily significant world could leave an entire front unstable without a critical objective to fight over.

Ultimately, FN-999 came to the decision that he would make a balanced approach known. As soon as his superiors spoke, that was. He understood his place in the hierarchy.

Predictably, opinions were mixed. The Emperor was supported by Lord Barran, his female companion, and the Moff, while the man referred to as the Admiral Regent opposed the idea and the unknown other man proposed using the station as a strictly anti-fleet weapon and enacting automation to minimize onboard casualties. To the lieutenant colonel, the young woman near Lord Barran and the other man stuck out the most. The woman gave him a glance and a nod that appeared sympathetic, which he subtly returned. Something about her features seemed vaguely familiar, but he could not put a word to it and consequently pushed the thought aside. Her strategy of using the station as a diversion due to its high value was an interesting proposal, a use of the station which he had never thought of before. He would have to research such a strategy further. On the other hand, the man's argument was one which FN-999 personally found very compelling and well-researched. He agreed that there were massive risks associated with creating a large battle station, and that indiscriminate planetary destruction would make the Order as loathed as the Maw.

As the man and woman concluded their speeches, FN-999 reached his consensus.

"I believe that recreating the Death Star of old has the potential to be hugely beneficial." stated the lieutenant colonel. "However, this is only true if we exercise extreme caution in its deployment. I do not mean to suggest that the Order is plagued by inefficiency or incompetence, the reality is much the contrary. However, if we manage to complete a station as powerful as the original Death Star, it will likely require an enormous undertaking. Even with the technological advances of the present day, a Death Star type station would likely cost as much as hundreds of Star Destroyer-size vessels. Our enemies know this, and the station will likely become the main target of every spy, commando, and battle fleet of every enemy of the Order as soon as the station's existence is declassified. Extensive measures should be taken to ensure that saboteurs do not enter the construction team, and there should be an escort fleet around it at all times."

"Furthermore, while we are a large and powerful nation, we lack the nearly inexhaustible manpower and industrial pool of the even larger Empire of old. If we were to create a war machine as powerful and grand as the Death Star only for it to be destroyed by saboteurs, the loss of manpower and materials would be absolutely devastating to our war effort."

"Finally, I agree with the previous point made that we should not target planets with our Death Star-esque station. At least, unless we can completely guarantee that the world has no major strategic value and no major civilian population. Otherwise, we risk far too much from destroying these vast spheres of life. If a planet located at the junction of multiple hyperlanes is destroyed, we could forever lose the opportunity to establish critical fortifications and industry on that world. Furthermore, if a planet with a sizable civilian population is destroyed, even if there are numerous hostile units on the planet, there is nonetheless a great risk that we will be labelled as genocidal murders, and our relationships with our allies may collapse."

Feeling increasingly motivated and excited, FN-999 decided to put on a brave face and address the Emperor directly.

"If I may be so honored, my Emperor, here is my question for you. How will you ensure, from start to finish and afterwards while in service, that your battle station is safe from internal and external harm?"

 

[Jordi Massad]

3rd 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 FEDAYEEN: KANDARANS ON DUBRILLION - PART 3

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

<"Targets eliminated; you're good to move inside scimitar.">

Like music to my ears.​

'AYAD, GO GET RASHID!!!! TIME TO PLAN PHASE TWO!!!!'

Jordi was sleeping at the time, but when his ear-piece came to life with the voice of his colleague, Massad had almost immediately jumped out of his seat to snatch his pistol up and spring to action. And All that Scimitar needed to do was poke his head out of the command-tent and yell to his young friend to get proceedings underway, from that point he was free to reply to the contact within the base, a new contact that Belkora had revealed much and more about, one such who had capabilities that completely contrasted those of her predecessor. Such a loss was still felt greatly by the organisation, as there had been no doubt that Asa Yubari had been the most terrifying presence ever to represent COMPNOR, and to hold such a presence in a time considered legendary by the new generation of handlers, agents and operators alike.

To survive in the Galaxy in the latter half of the 9th Century ABY, as Jordi knew well enough, required wills of steel, and hearts just as heavily-forged as the minds that heeded them. Yubari was all and more of this, but in light of the Little Angel's cunning approach to the cloak-and-dagger warfront, Hiro was certainly more adjusted to the smarter, more-nuanced aspects of Imperial and SIA spycraft, a contrast of which the Kandaran could understand quite well from a tactical standpoint.

<"Nicely done, Sparrow. All you need to do now is keep a low profile until you see me, I won't be alone. Scimitar out.">​

Yubari always carried the dread in her wake, instilling fear and wariness with each and every step she took, but with Hiro, none would feel such hopelessness until it was much too late to do anything about it, and in this, Jordi knew that Rika was making good use of her abilities to help the Imperials take full control of the situation on Dubrillion. The confirmation in and of itself was a proof of this fact, as any lesser replacements on either side of the scale would have failed miserably operating under such a delicately-precarious cover, showing that Rika was more than capable of holding to the basis of her persona - right up to the very last instant before striking out in whatever way suited best. This one would be somewhat less agreeable to some of Little Angel's actions than the killing-machine from before, but Massad wouldn't mind, for objections always seemed to open new avenues of ideas for him, and men like Jordi always enjoyed being kept on their toes in the field.

'Sir, you can take Rashid inside! I'll lead the main advance, support the tanks as best as we can!'

According to Massad, known to all who had worked with Scimitar for longer than a minute, boredom was something of a killer in the COMPNOR/SIA spy-war; in the absence of purpose, Jordi would always find himself thinking there was still something he should be attending to, both a blessing and a curse at the same time. Though in moments like this, the poise would be focused into the right fulcrum, ready to spring forth in whatever way seemed too unpredictable to the enemies defending the superweapon at the time. The clean record would be fated to continue for as long as all his main deployment-parameters had been fulfilled, and in the spirit of continuation, Scimitar was very much of a mind to keep a good run of good luck going, especially if all the other elements representing the Empire on the ground were operating at peak proficiency around him at the time.

'Alright! Best get moving now then! I can handle things with the basics of my loadout, much the same for Rashid!'

<"Scimitar, I'm waiting at the southern vine-things. Drop everything but your knife, pistol and three ammunition-packs.">

<"Going in quiet this time, hm?">

<"That's right, for much has been learned since we last worked together. Janbīyah going dark.">​

Nodding appreciation, Jordi looked southwards to the vines he had been directed towards, making a beeline towards his friend as Rashid himself waved from a kneeling position beside one of the trees. The stakes were high in this endeavour, but in light of his recent outings in the field, (thinking pondering on Kuat and Centares in particular) Scimitar knew that harsher challenges were always just one mistake away, awaiting just the slightest misstep in an Imperial shadow-war that thrived on the capitalisation of their enemies' mistakes in turn. None, not one COMPNOR agent in the field wished to be outplayed at the Empire's greatest game, and for people like Massad specifically, this was a particular outcome of which they never wished to be blighted by.

'Well, looks like I won't be bored anyway.'

<"Alright then, so be it.... Scimitar going dark.">​

 

[Rurik Fel]

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

​

"I admire the input of you all and I assure you, the mistakes of the past will not be made again. The resource allocation has certainly been a means of concern in this weapon's development, but if it can save thousands of Imperial lives grinding themselves away on the frontlines, then it is an investment worth its weight." Rurik remarks before he settles a gloved hand on the table.

"I desire...more than anything...peace, however, we know as well as anyone the Maw is not a rational actor by which business can be conducted as a lawful belligerent of war. They have said it themselves, they respect only strength...and it is through superior strength that we will best them. So too will it pacify the growing expansionism of the Alliance. We let ourselves bleed into the war on Kuat and reveal a crack in our armor to the Alliance, in reply, they believe they can fuel the rise of sedition and rebellion within the Empire. A weapon of this scale and magnitude will make certain that the Alliance can not meddle in Imperial matters again." Rurik explains.

"To ease any worries of saboteurs...it may very well be comforting to know that...despite many of you being high up the rungs of Imperial command...this is the first of any of you knowing of it...and the station is very nearly operational. The resources for the Death Star's construction have already been allocated and implemented, the final stages of construction near completion and soon...the Galaxy will know who truly holds dominion over it." He remarks before he clasps his hands behind his back, narrowing his eyes for a moment as he mulls over his thoughts.

"It was with great reluctance that I ever ordered the station's commission...but if we are to keep our ways within conventional means...we would've gone the way of our horrid counterparts in Zambrano. They fought the Galaxy and were bled dry from it...though we triumphed over them, we should all know well by now implemented in a similar position- we would fare no better. As the wolves circle us...this is our equalizer. Our ultimate deterrent and our ultimate vessel for peace and order. Not only for the Empire...but for the Galaxy." He remarks with his ever frigid conviction.

 

[Gat Tambor]

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

​

"Excellent." Was his short, curt reply before a gravely cough emerged from his already distorted and muffled vocoder, something he often used the intentional distortion of his atmo suit to conceal but managed to let it slip. A show of mortality from a god-like figure in the world of capital.

"And I can only assume the venture of finding alternative core-ward investments is going swimmingly? Miss Hayata certainly seems to be content which, for a woman of her nature is a rare sight but ultimately, in this business, success is a success. I've summoned you both here in advisement that well, you increase your investments in the same manifest of raw materials I provided last year, their prices are only to due to increase even more...all the same, I also have recommended to our brokers to increase investment into all core-side defense contractors...in the coming days, we can see speculation in the defense and resource markets of the Alliance skyrocket even further...what with, the development of my...project, or at least, what I hope will soon be my magnum opus soon to be revealed. I do apologize for the secrecy of it all but...such is the art of good business" In truth, he pondered the moral bounds of Tithe, less so in Hayata but his growing concerns over a possible conflict of interest with the Aargau politician were swelling to the point of his next immediate inquiry.

"Do tell, mister Tithe...in your current position as public servant to the Alliance...would you ever find yourself putting the Alliance wholly before the interests of the Federation...or is true power still your sole aim? I apologize if this...conveys in any negative light but our operation is as successful so long as we are all candid with one another and I must know your truest thoughts before I disclose anything further of my operations." He remarks.

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

PEACEWALKER // TRADE FEDERATION INDUSTROPOLIS, AARGAU

Gat Tambor | Aiko Hayata​

---

---

“It is true that my Chancellorship has proved profitable,” Tithe observed. Innumerable kickbacks and bribes had lined his pockets and those of his Corporatist Bloc allies, Aiko included. The introduction of the Galactic Alliance Credit had cut their rivals out of the Core currency market. An expanded Alliance military had created new markets for Trade Federation's deadly wares. The newly established SILK Trade Route had seen the TF secure lucrative government contracts to re-establish commerce and security through the southern systems, albeit against a backdrop of anti-business regulation introduced by his rivals. Aiko’s proposed legislation would go a long way to freeing the TF and its subsidiaries from the dead hand of taxation.

“But, as we all know, political power is fleeting, ohh yes, so very fickle. One need only look to my previous employer.” The Sith Empire was dead and gone, their once-vast domains lost to their enemies and the relentless march of time. While the Alliance had untied the Core under a single banner, the continued and increasingly hostile conflict between the pro- and anti-Corporatist Senators showed that not even the Starbird was free from internal strife, possibly a greater threat to their future than even the Brotherhood of the Maw.

“My allegiance has always been to my, uhh, returns,” he explained. “While the Core has been good to me, I fear the tide is turning. Should a more prosperous opportunity elsewhere present itself…” He left the implication hanging. His last few months in office, dedicated to his own enrichment at the expense of governing the Alliance, had reminded him of his love of business. It was long overdue for him to return to the boardroom. The largest construction project in recent galactic history would be the perfect opportunity.

Viceroy Tithe did have a certain ring to it.

 

[Gores Bagrimun]

OBJECTIVE 1 Music
Personal Objectives - Escape Sewer Tunnels | Meet Up With Friendlies
"I just overheard a secure access transmission, sir. Allies are coming in force. We ain't got to hide no more. And, if that yelling upstairs was anything to go by, we got friends in the building now." Jacuelo announced as he swiveled his chair away from the radio to face Sgt. Bensly, his green Rodian visage brighter than the the sewer waste just outside. Bensly retrived a lighter from his pouch and flicked it on, bringing it up to a cigar in his mouth, the fire illuminating his smiling face in the otherwise dark recesses of the service room. "What're we waiting for, then? Let's get outta these catacombs." He said. "Thank the force," Gores piped up, wiping grime off of his glasses as he spoke, his stormtrooper armor creaking as he leaned forward. "This place smells like what I'd imagine the inside of a bantha's ass smells like." Gores retrieved his helmet from a nearby table, as did his comrades, all of them quickly putting them on and grabbing their blasters. "Let's go!" Bensly said as they all ran out of the cramped service room, and through the dark sewer tunnels, towards one of the exits. They had been one of the few units to remain loyal when the hostile take-over began, and they had to retreat into the sewer tunnels below the facility. Patrols in the jungle and around the facility's perimeter ensured that they couldn't attempt an escape, and a thinning of their numbers and constant ambushes meant they had to always be on the move. They were a unit of 10 men before. Now they numbered 3. The sudden change of pace wasn't something that Gores minded, finally they'd be on the offensive and not the other way around. Plus, he wouldn't miss the smell.

 

[Asanté Tsilor]

1ST POST

PEACEWALKER
Objective 1 • The Sum Of All Fear

313th Stormtrooper Legion • 'SABRETOOTH LEGION'
Task Force • 'SIKA' DWA' (40/40)

Allies: NIO • Hall Mannarra Alex Eldar
Enemies: INSURGENTS

TSILOR'S LOADOUT
• UNIVERSAL COMBAT PLATFORM 'STORM' MK. V
• SRK-65 PARTICLE-BEAM RIFLE
• AP-25i 'SIMP' PARTICLE-BEAM BLASTER
• VIBRO-KNIFE

POOR, LONESOME STORMY: INTO THE HELL -- PART. I
​

PATH TO THE IMPERIAL FACILITY, DUBRILLION, 6 HOURS AFTER LANDING​

He waited. For a couple of hours, Tsilor waited. He and his boys -- waiting for a signal. They received orders: to be stealthy until they reached the facility. ‘Silent’ was the watchword, and the members of the 4th Battalion were all willing to follow these orders… More or less.

Indeed, the bucketheads’ helmets allowed the bearers to talk without being heard by someone who was outside the squad, so silence was relative, in a way. Discussions were going well among the troopers of Task Force ‘Sika’ Dwa’, and those weren’t silent at all. Tsilor was listening to them, as reports came in his ears throughout the tankers’ comlinks. While the commandos he led sneered after a joke that one of them did, Tsilor nodded comprehensively.

‘Hey, sir, is everythin’ goin’ well on the surface?’ 2nd-Leftenant McAlastair asked his superior while moving away from the troopers. Tsilor nodded for the last time and then turned his helmet to face the officer that enquired about him -- a useless move for the situation when they were talking through the squad link because they didn’t have to be face-to-face. ‘Err, yes and no. The convoy has been attacked by insurgents units. But everytin’s safe right now, no problem.’ McAlastair consented as he was listening to the 1st-Leftenant. ‘Ah, also, the Sixteens joined the game, hehe.’

The 2nd-Leftenant of the 3rd Battalion widened his eyes hearing this last sentence: ‘The Sixteens? You mean… The Sixteens? Like, the Imp-Mandos?’ Tsilor smiled slightly. ‘Themselves. Impressed?’

‘And how!’

Tsilor leant in the back of his seat and nodded silently a couple of times as the officer was realising the moment they were living at this time. The 1st-Leftenant took a look at his chrono. The ambush delayed the time of arrival of the convoy but, now, according to the new data they had, the junction with the special agent sent by the SOC in the former-Imperial facility would be in a couple of hours, two and a half at the very most. Nothing to care for the officer. Once they would be on target, TF ‘Sika’ Dwa’ would be split into two separate groups: one connecting with the special agent and another cleaning up the subterranean levels of the facility. He also had planned a little time to talk with the leader of the Sixteens’ contingent who was here to provide help to them. But for now, nobody knew the soldiers were here -- except for the tankers who were carrying them.

But for now, Asanté Tsilor was confident.

NEAR THE FACILITY, DUBRILLION, 11 HOURS AFTER LANDING
After a long but -- he hoped -- fruitful waiting time, the moment had come for Tsilor and his men to exit their tank, professionally, as they always did. Tsilor turned his head to face his second-in-command -- McAlastair, from his last name. ‘Damn Bastion,’ the 2nd-Leftenant groaned, and the Kiffar could only nod to those words. He took in his hands the only thing he knew better than his Imperial armour: the SRK-65 rifle he always kept since the blaster had been put at the disposal of the NIO.

<‘Okay, listen up everyone, today’s task will be hard, you can trust me,’> the 1st-Leftenant declared over the squad link, <’so be aware -- I know you are! Our mission will be to clean up that facility. I want -- neither dirty, nor bad work but… Good work from you! You’re the elites of this battalion, understood? So don’t lemme think that I was wrong when I took you out of your company -- ‘cause I hate that.’> The officer took a break, only to set the mood for the following speech. <’Now, I give the floor to 2nd-Leftenant McAlastair -- he’ll end this brief. C’mon Leftenant.’>

Tsilor took a step to the right and his second-in-command cleared his throat before starting with: <’Right, eh… Thank you, sir, will be startin’ soon,’> he started while drawing his datapad from his coat, <’So… Ah, right, there. The section will be splitted up in two groups, with different objectives. Elements of TF ‘Sika’ Dwa’ will be sent into the subterranean part of the facility -- it’ll be called Group A, callsign Aurek, led by me. The second part of this contingent will be under the orders of 1st-Leftenant Tsilor to do the junction with the Imperial agent infiltrated in the building and known as Esk-O-Five-Nine.> He quickly scroll on his datapad and then asked:

<’Any question?’>