Rebirth of an Empire (Galactic Empire dominion of O'reen)

[Akio Kahoshi]

Screens switched on across the Atrisian Empire, all switching to the same broadcast. They had been told there would be an announcement from the Emperor himself, but few knew what the announcement was for. The Imperial Lotus symbol of the Atrisian Emperor displayed on the screen until the appointed time. Then Emperor Akio, first of the Kahoshi Dynasty appeared on the screens.

He was dressed in his usual attire, a simple but expensive robe with his hair tied up in a top knot. Behind him was the clean order of a military ship. Blue eyes seemed to be watching the viewers. "Citizens of the Atrisian Empire," he began. "It is time for our glorious country to take a step closer to its destiny. To reach this destiny, we must reach for our past.

"Through the veins of our Empire flows the blood of Emperor Palpatine, Grand Admiral Thrawn, Grand Admiral Pallaeon, and every member of the Fel Dynasty. Our history stretches back to the very formation of the Galactic Republic and further. We are the inheritors of the Galaxies history, and it is then left to use to carry out the mission of our predecessors.

"When the Jedi attempt to assassinate Supreme Chancellor Palpatine and seize control of the Republic failed he created the Galactic Empire. A government with the sole purpose of uniting the Galaxy and establishing lasting peace and order. The very threats faced in those days continue to exist today. Force users spread chaos and death throughout the Galaxy. But remember, not all force users are lost. It was Lord Vader, a former Jedi, who saved Chancellor Palpatine from the so-called Jedi Grand Master. Lord Vader gave up his mistaken faith, and instead committed his life to serving the Empire. So we must too forgive those who have given up their false beliefs and committed themselves to service.

"And so must we all commit ourselves to service. Service to a singular goal, set out by Palpatine himself eight-hundred and fifty years ago. We must bring order to a Galaxy filled with chaos. To do this we must grow. When Moff Lee sealed Atrisia's borders, he protected the legacy of the Galactic Empire. But no longer are we tied to a singular world.


"That is why today, I announce the restoration of the Galactic Empire and name myself Galactic Emperor."

Finally he paused for a moment, to let the news sink in. It had not been an easy decision, and he had wished to wait until their size was closer to a true Galactic Empire. Ultimately he had decided it was necessary, so that friend and foe alike knew exactly who they faced. Pause finished, he began once more.

"Now we disembark to bring a wayward planet under the flag of the Galactic Empire. I shall travel there personally, and assume direct control. For the Empire!"

Cutting the feed, Akio turned and nodded to the ship's captain. Instantly the ship floating above Rakata and the fleet surrounding it vanished into hyperspace. Hours later they arrived above the planet O'reen. It ran along the trade route he wished to build with the Fringe, and would serve as a useful port for trade protection. Problem was, the O'reen people were a democracy, with allegiance to themselves alone.

That would change.

"Hail their President," Akio ordered. Moments later the President answered, clearly still a bit shocked at the arrival of the massive fleet. "President of O'reen, I am Galactic Emperor Akio Kahoshi. I ask that you surrender unconditionally, or we will destroy any opposition you throw at us."

"O'reen is a free planet! We will not surrender to you, leave our system at once!"

The expected response, but still disappointing. Akio hated to spill more blood than was absolutely necessary. "Just remember President, the blood spilled today will be on your hands. Prepare yourself for the arrival of my troops, it will make little difference in the end."

Making a gesture to disconnect the communications, Akio instead addressed the Imperial fleet. "Begin the assault."

 

[Darth Libertas]

On the surface of O'reen defences were being mobilised, reservists called in, a state of emergency was soon declared over the planet. The world was bristling with defencs, aa guns, a planetary shield and an ion cannon. It was a fortress and as the call to arms went soldiers rushed to the defences, heeding the call to defend their inalienable rights.

"Citizens of O'reen, your people want you. Our inalienable rights, our way of life is in danger. Do as your forefathers did and stem the tide of oppression and tyranny that threatens to flood us," the call went out over the media as the President himself appeared before the holo-cameras, looking grave and serious but resolved, flanked by his ministers and generals.

"We have faced ravenous hordes of pirates before and defeated them. The only difference between the imperialists and them is the size of their forces and the fact that at least the bandits did not disguise their greed. O'reen will fight, O'reen will be right. It is better to die a free man than live a slave. Our fortress is strong, we have supplies and soldiers and the free nations of the Galaxy will not condone this blatant act of imperialist aggression. It might cost us blood, sweat and tears, but we shall prevail."

In the city centre in a swanky apartment that contained all sorts of modern amenities a certain Colonel Marius Tremayne was rousing himself from sleep and disentangling himself from the beauty that lay next to him. Or rather was partly lying on top of him, the flimsy sheet doing little to shield her body from his gaze. A body he had recently seen quite a bit of. What was her name again? Nadia, but what was in a name?

She was nimble, adventurous and did not mind his occasional dalliances. After all, he might be a man of the people, one who would assuredly soon be elected to Parliament given his record as a war hero against pirates and his friends in the ruling party, but he was also a man.

She stirred as he lit a cigarette. "You're not thinking about work again, are you? You promised we had the entire day just for us. No pirates, no politics. Or is it that blue Twi'lek servant girl..."

He feigned confusion. "Love, you know that Jaian is just a..."

"A chamber maiden? Stress release," she chuckled. "No need to play around, you know I don't mind. You work so hard to keep us safe and we'll be happy together," she said, so understanding.

"And soon I shall be in Parliament and then, well, fate still has plans for me. I will do great things for this world and you'll be right at my side, dear," he said determinedly and she pulled him into a kiss, which he eagerly returned, cupping her cheek, but just in this moment his comm link beeped, most annoying. He was tempted to shut the damn thing off, but out of the corner of his eye he saw the small red light glowing and knew what it meant.

"Yes," he barked, pulling away from the girl, who looked both annoyed and concerned but then got up and headed out, perhaps sensing important matters had to be discussed, too sensitive for her. He saw her headed towards the kitchen, her hips incidentally swaying delicately, but he had to focus on work. His features soon turned serious and sombre as he heard the news.

"We will resist to the last bullet. Mobilise the 21st and 72nd Assault, the ion cannon must be brought online. I need a direct line to the Admiral. The protection of the citadel must be reinforced, the imperialists might have infiltrators. I will head to the command post and direct this personally," he declared in a strong, commanding voice before cutting the connection, hastily putting on his uniform, which incidentally was strewn across the floor, but as the curtain for some reason.

It was then that she returned, dressed in nothing but an old shirt of his, and holding a steaming cup of tea, an expression of concern written across her features as she approached. "Was that headquarters? You look troubled. Has something happened?" she asked softly.

"We're under attack, dear. The 'Empire' has come to take our liberties away and make slaves of us. Be not afraid, we're mobilising and will fight them. I must get to command and make sure the President is safe."

"The 'Empire'? You can't mean the Sith barbarians. They're too far away."

Despite himself he had to smile at her adorable naivete as he buttoned up his jacket. "The 'Galactic' or Atrisian one. No matter we will fight to the last. Better dead than a slave."

"I'm sure you will repel them. Their soldiers are just indoctrinated drones kept in line by fear, your men fight for their homeland and a just cause," she spoke with clear fervour in her eyes. "But don't go without at least a cup of tea. You need to be at your best." She was so concerned about his wellbeing, she had been such a help since his wife died in that speeder accident. Sometimes it made him feel guilty but not now and so he took the cup and had a sip.

"Nadia, this tea is excellent," he said agreeably. Normally he was more of a stimcaf person, especially fond of the starcaf brand, but it did taste heavenly.

"Thank you, I made it myself," for some reason she saw the need to state the obvious. Then suddenly he began spluttering, he coughed violently and as a realisation dawned over him he glared at her hatefully and he tried to lunge at her, but she easily dodged his fist with surprising speed then he keeled over and fell. "Poison you...queen..." His vision grew hazy but he briefly saw her expression twist, a change overcoming her as her previously soft and human skin seemed to morph to reptilian scales, red hair began to recede and he believed he saw a flash of yellow in her eyes, then his vision grew dark.

"But I thought you liked surprises and wanted to get to know me!" she quipped. "I thought about keeping you as my slave...but you said you wanted to die, so. Your keycard and your access will be very useful, thanks for that, love," at that she blew him a mocking kiss then quickly liberated him of his jacket, searching through it until she found the keycard.

 

[Rexus Drath]

Emperors own, Rex had never been part of an elite unit of troops. He had always been a basic grunt or a knight. Now in this crazy future he was an inquisitor, an elite trooper for the empire as his cover up. He can't really say he was with his unit very often but he needed them to cover for his secret life, though it was more of a dirty secret by now but a secret non the less. Rexus sat in the bench of drop ship with his squad, thirteen men total sat there waiting got the drop. Since they weren't standard infantry their job was a bit more spec ops than the usual op, they had to get onto the surface and disable a few fortifications and eliminate a few targets if the chance came up. "I hate my job." Rex shook his head, it actually felt pretty good to be back in the storm trooper armor it had been a few hundred years but he was finally back in the saddle ready for the drop.

This was a job Rex could of handled by himself it irked him a bit but that feeling went away shortly after the transport started up and took off into the deep howling darkness of space and soon after the atmosphere of the planet. The people of O'reen still had not set their defenses just yet so their entry wasn't the most daring in the galaxy. Honestly Rex was used to going in with the shock troops, this early insertion thing was new to him. The transport sat down near the outskirts of the city and they slowly unloaded getting ready for the next phase. Or any additional orders.

 

[Moira Skaldi]

@[member="Akio Kahoshi"]

Another day, another planet, another world to be subjugated. Thus was the way, a jackboot stomping upon a sentient face. Moira had listened to the the Imperial proclamation in silence. Being an HRD meant that she was not given to needless displays of emotion, so she would neither condemn nor break into applause. She simply did not care either way.

But...the bloodshed would give her something to pass the time and somehow she once again felt a peculiar sense of deja vu, along with a certainty that for some reason Sergeant @[member="Hevana Martin"] should be here. Under her.

Fighters flew from the belly of the Imperial flagship and from the other vessels that formed the fleet, soon the space battle would begin in earnest, the forces of O'reen were scrambling their defences, fighters shooting into space, larger ships moving into position. Space would be lit by flashes of explosions, organics would perish.

Passing between the working crew men and white-armour clad stormtroopers, for this occasion she was clad in a grey-green uniform of an Imperial naval officer, that of a Lieutenant. Strictly speaking she had not a member of the service, not even a member of the Imperial military, but it was a formality that got minions to shut up. Not that many would need the motivation, they had seen her with her skin ripped and the metal beneath after Csilla, knew she could snap a human like a twig.

As fighters and bombers roared out of the hangars she took up position among the gunners of this particular Star Destroyer, coordinating the targeting of the massive ship. Due to being a droid she was able to process many thousands of scenarios and issue instructions to each gunnery battery giving them their best targets. An overwhelmning volley in conjunction with the rest of the fleet should set alight the forces O'reen was sending out to face them and once the shield was done the planet would realise what shock and awe meant.

 

[Darth Libertas]

O'reen was a world under siege, preparing for its final battle. Inspiring slogans blared out of the loudspeakers, inciting the people to fight to the last and defend their freedom. Barricades were up in the streets, even civilians being conscripted in what seemed a labour service to defend freedom, anti-aircraft guns and mortars set up at tactical locations. Armoured personnel carriers and speeders raced through the streets, carrying soldiers to their destinations.

The shadow of fighters could be seen on the ground as they ascended, swarming out to meet the Imperial invaders. Soon there would be death, destruction, the wailing of innocents as their homes were bombed and put to the torch.

Naamah felt right at home, seated in a military speeder - Colonel Tremayne had a large garage and been so nice to leave her the key - as sped through the chaos, the fact that the vehicle was military enabling her to check on the general troop channel. She would give up the vehicle once she had sped far enough into the outskirts, then head for the ion cannon, located in what was pretty much a small stronghold, built onto a mountain. She let the dark side flow through her as she sank into the Force, tasting the despair, the fear, even the hatred and loathing she could feel in waves around her, letting it wash all over and greedily lapping at it. It was intoxicating, beautiful...very soon they would bend.

 

[Cyrus Tregessar]

To Cyrus, war was a game. A competition, the ultimate test of skill, daring, and more than a little luck between two or more parties. Most of the time, a fight was little more than a puzzle. Move some pieces here, remove a few there, try it one way than another and then viola, breakthrough! The game collapses and you stand victorious atop the rubble. Quick, relatively painless, and endlessly disappointing. Occasionally though, the other player possessed some skill as well, and ever move made was matched by one that countered it. Then it ceased being a puzzle, a matter of simply figuring out the code, and became a true battle of will.

O'reen was so far looking to be solidly in the first category. The system's defenses appeared to consist primarily of orbital stations and satellites, both of which Cyrus considered to be basically obsolete. What naval forces they had appeared to be mostly dedicated to policing and patrol. The vast majority were corvette or frigate sized, with a motley collection of Cruisers and a handful of Heavy Cruisers to round things out. If he had had only his flagship, Cyrus still would have been confident in victory. For a brief moment he considered sending the rest of the fleet off on some pointless mission, but such an action would be hard to justify with the Emperor present. A proper opponent would have to wait for another day.

There were still orders to give, though, the battle wasn't about to fight itself. "All units this is Iron Duke Actual, form up on my unit in formation Alpha-1 and await further orders." Alpha-1 was the standard ship formation, Capital Ships in a line, with frigates screening in front and Cruisers on the flanks. The mechanics of sorting out which ship went where would give Cyrus a little bit of time. Not too much of course, the captains of the former Atrisian Empire were skilled at ship-handling at the very least, but just enough to let him figure out the trick to this particular puzzle.

 

[James Mathison]

James lounged in a stolen bunk as the alert sounded for the arrival of the fleet at its destination, and the beginning of the assault. He slowly swung his legs over the side of the bunk, placed his boots on his feet and rose from his position. He moved to the table in the room where he'd stashed his gear. He replaced his bandolier of blades across his chest, his belt around his waist and his forearm vibroblades clicked as they locked to his armor. Dressed in his traditional white armor and cloak, he pulled his hood over his head and walked to the door. As it slid open, the echoes of boots and voices surrounded James. He took a deep breath, then ran for the nearest escape pod. He had memorized the layout of the vessel to ensure his escape routes and of course, the fastest way to the mess hall. James rounded corners with great speed and efficiency, as men and women ran by him on their respective tasks. Turning a corner, James found the closest pod, jumped in, punched the coordinates he desired and launched.

As the pod fell to the surface, James peered out the singular porthole and witnessed fighters from both sides meet in between the fleets. flashes of brilliant reds, blues, oranges, and yellows lit up tiny pocket of space before extinguishing and being replaced with another.

On the Surface-Minutes after decent

James had made his way from the crashed pod to the city limits. The local military was already organizing an evacuation of its civilians, MP's were patrolling the area and were guarding the entrance James wished to use. He hid with in the tree-line as a guard walked by, as he neared, James snuck up behind him, plunged a vibroknife into his side, whilst covering him mouth. James dragged him into the trees and dawned the mans jacket, armor and helmet. He walked along the tree line quietly, carefully picking his steps as to not alert anyone. With his clothes and armor on underneath the 'borrowed' uniform, he looked twice his normal size. He made his way to the checkpoint, and the MP walked up to him, Halt, who are you?
Specialist "Johns" from Operational Command. Scouting the area for incursions. I'm on my way in to report in to HQ.

I wasn't given word of your presence in my sector, who is your CO?!

James walked closer as if to give the man his I.D. instead, he grabbed the man by the throat, threw him into the outpost building, and pounced on him blade first. He rolled the body under the table inside the outpost building. Once inside the city, he stashed the uniform in a dumpster and walked out into the chaos of the city. He made his way through the crowd of civvies running about, soldiers scrambling for their positions. James moved to a side-street where a pair of soldiers were standing guard for an unmarked door. James took off in burst of speed, fast enough for the pair to hear the footsteps and turn in time to see blades enter their throats and blood spray the air around them. James rose from the crouched position and slid his blades back into their sheaths on his wrists. Looking to the door they had once guarded, James grabbed an I.D. card from one of the men, slid it through the access panel and with a hiss/pop the door opened to reveal a stairway leading down into the darkness...

 

[Rexus Drath]

Gathering their weapons and ammo the group of thirteen troopers exited the safety of the transport and into the field, this was it an invasion of another free world. "COC COC this is Dragon Fire two three, boots on the ground and moving into the city. We will set up a eyes for artiy units and designate." Rex spoke into his radio, they had stepped off and they hadn't ran into any resistance yet moving into the city. They even managed to get into a rather tall building to set up a forward outpost. Things were going pretty well so far which disturbed Rexus. Things were never this easy something was wrong and he could feel it

 

[James Mathison]

James carefully descended the staircase to a dimly lit corridor. He walked cautiously along the wall until he came to a door at the end. With the same I.D. card, he accessed the security panel and opened the door. What was on the other side opened up to be an underground war room of sorts. Technicians, analysts, and officers of the O'reen military were running about attempting to create a counter plan for the invasion. Guards walked the area, and the one stranding at the door that had just opened quietly disappeared from view and was replaced with the figure of James. The door closed behind him, locked and the access panel turned from orange to green. James ducked behind a set of offices in the rear of the room. Careful not to make a sound, even in the midst of the chaos about him, James was aware of the risks of being too bold. He located the President with his staff going over the plans for a counter-strike on the Empire invaders. They were in a glass office on the far side opposite the door. James withdrew a blade from his bandolier and went to work on the nearest computer, dismantling the systems interface, and slicing the wires. As soon as he was done, a few screens went black for the room. A sudden silence and directed attention to the screens gave James the opportunity he needed to move to the next hiding spot. Gaining ground to the glass office, James had to be even more careful in his movements as he sabotaged another computer, blinking out more screens. The room became more chaotic as they scrambled to find the source of the problem. Soon the president himself was out of his office, looking over the screens as another section went dark. A guard located the first computer. Sir! Over here! I think I found something.

Silently moving to the office, a lone commander sat in his chair as the rest of the group had moved to aid in the search for the problems with their intel, James crept up behind him, and in one swift move he slashed the man's throat out and covered his mouth to prevent any noise escaping. Quickly James ducked into a vent, replaced the grate and moved on to another area for his next strike.

In his ear, he received reports from the Empire that troops were moving in on the city, and soon they would have their titan AT-AT's in range to obliterate the O'reenian defenses. Reaching another vent cover, he pushed out, and found himself directly behind the CO's desk at the front of the room. The CO was standing over a comm yelling at the man on the other end to send IT down to assist. He would need to be quick. As soon as the CO sat back down, James' blade was in his back, and a hand over his mouth. He tilted the man forward to disguise the body as a man resting his head on his arms in stress. He took the CO's I.D. card and moved back into the vents. Two kills, and only four more until he could make his escape with a mission success.

 

[Akio Kahoshi]

O'reen, without a major shipyard or the support of other planets' economies, could not build a significant space fleet. Still, he would rather as little damage came to the Imperial fleet as possible. More to the point, they needed to take control of orbit to properly subjugate the population below. It was not a question of if O'reen would surrender, it was a question of how long and how many he had to kill before they did.

"Take out the orbital defenses quickly," Akio ordered his fleet commanders. "And start preparing the Tora pods for deployment."

The Tora and Banzai pods had been a novel idea adapted from the drop pods originally used for armored vehicle deployment. For this mission they had been mass produced, but there was no method for them to deploy them efficiently. Today was just to test how well they operated in the field. So the pods filled the hangers of their star destroyers, and when the time came they would be tossed out into space.

 

[Cyrus Tregessar]

Orbital Defense were the priority, then. Fair enough, once control was achieved there then the fall of the planet was inevitable. Older tactical doctrines had often emphasized getting troops on planet as quickly as possible, but Cyrus preferred to take sieges nice and slow. Orbital control meant more than simply being able to ferry troops, it also gave the attacker incredible advantages in communications and intelligence. It went without saying that any satellites were to be taken over or destroyed, thus depriving the defenders of those critical lines of information. Unless there was extensive use of underground fiber optic cables (which was rare) planetside forces were often cut off from each other, besides resorting to the archaic technique of bouncing radio signals off orbiting ships.

For the attacker, starships could now enter low orbit to act as command and control platforms, provide surveillance, in addition to more conventional actions like fire support. There was always a risk of dirtside anti-ship defenses, of course, but they were inevitably easily spotted and eliminated, provided one was willing to take some losses discovering them in the first place. From that point it was a simple matter of gradually isolating the various scattered groups of defenders and either wiping them out or wearing them down one by one. Unless there was a fleet coming to the relief of the besieged planet, the attacker had all the time in the world.

But you don't get an ideal situation every time, and the Emperor wanted business here finished quickly. A few minutes later saw three groups of ships dispatched. The first, a strike group of Gyon-class Cruisers with frigate support to take out the orbital stations. The second was the majority of the frigates, operating in groups of two and three, to eliminate those defenders still scattered about the system. The third consisted of most of the Lee-class Star Destroyers and the few Jun-class Carriers. They would prepare for the invasion proper.

The rest of the fleet consisted of Cyrus' Flagship, the Iron Duke, a second Isard-I Star Destroyer (one of only a handful that had been produced), a pair of Lee's, and a few Gyon's, Hetzer's, and Guillotine's. They would be taking the fight to the enemy fleet, which was now finally arranging itself into something resembling a combat formation. Cyrus found himself frowning at their display of incompetence, but perhaps they would redeem themselves in actual battle. Surprise was a factor here, after all, and even the best commander can get flustered at times.

 

[Antera]

Somarae took a deep breath, adjusting the position of her helmet. Leadership. That was still sinking in. Reinforcements had come in to replace the casualties taken over Csilla, but there was no new officer. She had been tapped instead as the new Dao 1.

Amada. Orix. Malus. Khallar. Solan. Vorinth. Erim. Tenkawa. Ray. Zhao. Kei. This was her first combat mission in command. There was every chance some of them would not return to the hangar. She was going to be damned sure she remembered them. The Naginatas moved ahead of the capital ship formation, joining the frigates and corvettes to form a screen to intercept any attacks that may strike at the larger vessels.

"Dao 1 to Dao Squadron. Report in."

The replies came back promptly. They were ready.

@[member="Akio Kahoshi"], @[member="Cyrus Tregessar"]

 

[James Mathison]

James Mathison, young, talented, and hired to kill. He was in his element, hiding from sight, taking out specific targets for Creds. He was doing well, but that all changed when the bombardment from the Empire's units begun. He had found a way to reach the office from above, but when his targets were directly underneath him, a shell hit the building above, shaking the ground so hard, it cracked the ceiling, sending James crashing through the roof. He slammed hard onto his hands and knees onto the table in the Presidents office. Without blinking, James rolled to his right, off and under the table as the CO's and the President jumped up to avoid the crashing ceiling. The lights flickered, taking this as an opportunity, a flurry of blades struck and dotted the chest of one of the CO's. He fell to the floor, spilling blood all over the tile he now lay on. As the men turned to look at their fallen comrade, James silently stood up behind the last CO, plunging both of his blades through the mans throat. As he gurgled blood, the guards came in, spotting the intruder, opened fire. James sank below the table and rolled into the air duct, squeezing through to another opening to avoid being seen. The opening he chose had been the wrong one, a mussel was pointed directly at the opening as James crawled out. They had him at gun-point, so he threw up his hands.
I surrender, you have caught me, what ever will you do to me, he said sarcastically.

Sir, Over here, I have him. The intruder.

The president, and his Chief of Staff walked over, followed by the reinforcements that had come down to aid the technicians. Well, it looks like we caught the mouse responsible for chewing on the wires, a technicians called out with disgust.

I am President Kelvin Tolkov, of the O'reen government. You are under arrest and pursecution for murder, espionage, and terrorism. I see no marking of affiliation, you must be nothing more than a hired punk, sent to stir the hive, only to get stung by your own swarm. What do you have to say for yourself?

Oh, and stir the hive I have, look what's left of your precious government. Your citizens had no idea that I was walking between them for minutes, your men let me walk unattended. You think I'm alone, who sends one worker bee to take out the 'Queen'.

At that exact moment, another shell rocked the ground above them, sending the lights into a seizure of flickering light and darkness. Using the distraction as his ques, James killed every guard around the room, even a few technicians who tried to stand in his way. A blur of kicks, punches, stabs and slashes made it look like he was traveling at the speed of light. When the emergency lights came on, the President was alone in a sea of blood, giving off an orange glow from the lamps. Where is he? Mickal... as he turned to speak to his assistant, he saw the man shaking violently, clutching his throat as blood poured out from between his fingers. He slumped down over a desk and died choking on his own blood.

What will you do now Mr. President? You are alone. No one to command, none to lead.

You will not break my spirit you wretched worm, you will regret attacking me. I will have your head on display for all the Empire to see.

We shall see, but as of now...PEW...ahh kark it all.

A guard who didn't want to die got a shot off and struck James in the side. His armor took some of the blaster fire, but most got through. He ran through the hall back to the staircase. Climbing the stairs became more and more difficult as he lost more and more blood. At the top of the stairs, James slid down the wall and sat there, holding his side, struggling for air, eyesight fading. He radioed in to his employer. Your Lordship....Sir...Highness. The president is alone,... in a bunker...at this location......When he finished his call, he tried to crawl from the door, which was slightly ajar from the bombardment. With all of his strength, he pushed the door open, drug himself halfway through and rolled to his back, unconscious.

@[member="Akio Kahoshi"]

 

[Rexus Drath]

Rexus looked down at the city streets and called targets for the artillery units to put fire on, everything seemed to be going fine his services were not really needed as a trooper. "Alright men you stay here I have to head back to the COC to get things rolling." Rex stepped out and undressed from his armor and into the civillian clothes underneath he had to get back into his inquisitor role he could do more for the battle this way.

 

[Laura Na'Varro]

"Sound off for equipment check!" On his first posting and presumably the model of Imperial efficiency, Ensign Rodrigo Satoshi had his mind on other things than equipment checks and computer targeting systems. The young officer was flying into combat during the first week of his posting, a rarity of course, but the newly-renamed Galactic Empire was expanding rapidly. The world of O'reen lay in their path next ... a very scrupulous choice, Satoshi thought. Strategically placed near Fringe space as well as a well-travelled hyperspace trade route, O'reen was weak enough to be taken easily yet strong enough that it's defeat would make a statement. This Empire was the true Empire, reformed on Atrisia but with the backing of hundreds of years of history. And this strategy was sound. Strike quickly and with devastating force before your enemy can make preparations, like water. Yes, the strategy was sound. Strategy came like second nature to Satoshi. He felt he was wasted here, as weapons officer of the Akatsuki, a Gyon-class cruiser that had been launched ten years previously. But it was his first posting, and he would do his duty efficiently. Every cog in the works had to be well-oiled and working seamlessly. That was what made the Empire great.

"North batteries okay!"

"Down batteries okay, sir!"

"East batteries okay!"

His role was weapons officer was a relatively straight-forward job. Satoshi would indicate targets to his many gunners via a holo display which would come up in the gunners' helmet-located HUD, making sure they were firing at the most prudent targets precisely. The gunners would wait for the targeting computer to make a targeting solution (which would usually take around 0.3 of a second), and then they would fire. The targeting computers ensured accuracy, for a missed shot could prove catastrophic thousands of years in the future. Stray shots presented anomalies in hyperspace travel. Only the Force knew how many stray shots were flying around the galaxy as they spoke, some tens of thousands of years old. Some day they would all hit something. Satoshi hoped they wouldn't hit any ship he travelled on. So all of the gunners awaited firing solutions, and then they fired. They did not "eyeball" their targets, for they were precise. Imperial precision was important, Satoshi would make sure all of his gunners respected that.

As the Akatsuki drew itself up in formation on the fleet's left flank, Satoshi readied himself to process many simple equations in his brain rapidly. This would be an Imperial victory, now it was just to wait and see what the cost would be.

 

[Akio Kahoshi]

While Akio was a trained military commander, and had commanded not only the Atrisian Navy but the entire Republic Navy for a time as well. Still, he was aware that he now occupied a different position and that if the roles were reversed he would be annoyed at an Emperor that lead the battle instead of leaving it to his admirals. That was why they existed after all.

The smaller orbital defenses would be little match against the Imperial ships, it was the space stations that would provide a real threat. That, and the ion canon on the ground. Hopefully that would not be in issue, if the agents sent ahead did their job. As for the stations, they might give most cruisers and frigates stop, but the heavy forward facing guns of the Gyons would make quick work of them. And unfortunately for the stations, they would not be able to dodge.

Aboard the destroyers the pods continued prep as stormtroopers grabbed their gear and sealed themselves inside. This was new to them as well, and not all of them were confident they would survive the trip. Still, orders were orders.

 

[Cyrus Tregessar]

A small grin creased Cyrus' face as the front line of Gyon's began to open fire with their spinal mount cannons. Of all the Atrisian ship designs, the heavy cruisers were by far his favorite, and those guns were why. The beams fired from those two big guns did more damage in a single shot than an entire battery of heavy turbolasers, and their effects played out clearly on the O'reen orbital platforms. The first volley was largely deflected by shields, but the second punched through the weakened defenses, the energy tearing gouges into larger stations, and punching right through smaller platforms, or blowing them into pieces. For a few minutes, there was no action taken on the part of the defenders. Finally, the disoriented crews were able to return fire. But Cyrus had expected this, and already the larger and much more heavily armored Lee-class Star Destroyers had move in front of the Gyon's on his order. Turning broadside, they easily absorbed the fire from the defense stations, and returned with their batteries of turbolasers.

In this leap-frog fashion the Strike Force advanced, taking the first key enemy threat apart quite easily. Perhaps the fleet would put up a better fight.

 

[Laura Na'Varro]

As the Akatsuki began its advance, its CO, a Commander by the name of Revit Dranada, translated their targeting orders to his young, inexperienced weapons officer. Ensign Satoshi retrieved them and set his mind into motion immediately. Their indicated target was one of the larger orbital defence platforms, an antiquated piece of technology that would not stand up well to the two heavy cannons of a Gyon-class heavy cruiser. Though being a weapons officer was a straightforward, boring job, Satoshi had to admit that playing with the twin cannons was a satisfying reward for his work. The cannons didn't just hit their targets, they smashed them into pieces; punched through durasteel and wiring and bone and flesh with a satisfying crunch. You couldn't hear the crunch, not in space, but you could see it. As such, Satoshi took command of the two heavy cannons himself. They wouldn't need the other batteries as yet, and for now Satoshi eschewed the use of torpedoes. It wouldn't do to waste them on an easy target like an orbital station, no matter how large.

The targeting computer brought up his firing solution and he fired straight into the shields, looking to weaken them, and immediately began processing another firing solution. The wait for the cannons to cool down was excruciating, but cool down they did, and the Akatsuki fired again. Twin bolts fired from the forward facing cannons ripped into the reactor, a precise hit that tore a huge chunk out of the orbital platform and set up a chain-reaction of small explosions where oxygen still pumped artificially into the small, cramped rooms. Not many would have survived yet, and certainly not enough would have in order to put up any sort of defence. Satoshi received a cease fire order and sat back as the Lee-class Star Destroyers moved past his ship's position, absorbing the enemy's fire and giving the Gyons a break. One ring of defence down, several more to go.

 

[Moira Skaldi]

A space battle was a beautiful sight to behold. Flashes of light, brilliant explosions as space stations and ships were blasted and viridian and crimson turbolaser bolts and missiles streaked through space to impact upon their targets. Fighters engaging in fast manoeuvres to evade the detritus of the battle crashing into them, dogfights as the defenders of O'reen scrambled what fighters they had from their cruisers and frigates, though many were blasted before they shot out of the hangars.

In space no one could hear you scream and so no one would hear the cries of the defenders of O'reen as the orbital stations and war vessels would melt before the Imperial war machine like snow before a hot sun. Or something of the sort, for this writer thinks they are particularly poetic.

As it was there was no exultation written upon Moira's placcid features as she directed the batteries of the Emperor's flagship. No reaction at all, the mayhem before her mechanical eyes left her cold. It was another planet, another target, its people had committed the cardinal crime of being evolution's losers. Ergo they would be subjugated and conquered, for such was the law of the universe, nations rose and fell. So she sat there in the gunnery, completely still and stoic, as she directed every single battery in real time, feeding them the coordinates for their firing solutions. Targets would be fed into their holo displays, she would transmit coordinates to the targeting computers, processing countless scenarios in the blink of an eye, such was the processing power of an assassin droid created with murder in mind. The gunners worked efficiently like cogs in a well-oiled machine. That was good, it meant she would not waste resources by shooting one of them to encourage the others, though processing them would still be an improvement, purge all organic weaknesses. The guns punched through the durasteel armour of the stations, blasting through the shields under the intense volley of fire. The first volley might be deflected by the shields, but under the intense fire they dissipated and gave way, in one case the salvoe tore into the reactor and created a chain reaction of small explosions.

While this happened Imperial fighters and bombed roared out of the hangars heading. The planetary shield might prevent orbital bombardment, but not a bombing a run and targets had been fed to them. Doubtless some would be shot out of the sky by the intense flak fire being shot upward, though this would also reveal the location of the enemy anti-air, but enough would reach their targets. The Citadel that served as enemy headquarters, military installations and columns of O'reen armour. Equations being calculated rapidly in her brain, she sent orders to a squadron of starfighters to to wipe out enemy bombers that were headed towards the flagship. Most interestingly dropships were shooting out of a station and accelerating towards them. Not for boarding purposes, as it was discovered when one of them crashed against the hull of a Star Destroyer, a powerful explosion tearing a hole inside it, but for a suicide run, but it took more than that to wipe out an Imperial war vessel.

Focusing on one of the space stations in the centre of the defences Moira's eyes flashed crimson from the buried robotic photoreceptors as her mind stretched out and began running the search programme, scouring the right ip address. The defences of the system scrambled to stop her as she found an entry point, but the system of the orbital station was not being attacked by one user, but by multiple, and so with every intruder that was eliminated in the system, another one was seemingly there to access it as she ran her programme to search for the password.

I will direct this personally. Assuming direct control, sometimes even Moira was prone to overdramatic, cheesy lines. Organic life existed because the machine allowed it and would end when she demanded it. The virus was uploaded as the last bogus intruder was eliminated and the system appeared before her eyes, countless possibilities. Doubtless the organics controlling the station has noticed the breach and would struggle to purge the programme, by then it would be too late. This hurts you, the missile launchers and laser batteries of the station suddenly got new firing solutions fed into their targeting computers and unleashed a volley...against the other stations. Explosions lit up space and blossomed, then the shields of the station flickered and died.

 

[Rexus Drath]

Rexus moved through the shadows of the city, he always missed his old way of doing things. His armor and his partner taking the streets as knights, this sneaking and snooping thing really wasn't for him, but his loyalties were to the empire even if he had questioned them all those years ago. He could now see that this galaxy needed the empire, Atrisia was the last beacon of hope in this chaotic galaxy that had been desolated by the plague. Moving into an empty warehouse Rex hailed the fleet above head for any orders that needed to be dealt with. Soon after he received his orders and moved with haste, people had to die and be was just the guy to kill them.