Faction Resonant Chaos || CIS

[Vemric Keldra]

TAG: Open

The gates of Hael were thrown wide open.

Quite literally. The Confederate Armed Forces had been spread thin. With the turmoil that had raked through the Galaxy for so long had seen refugees spill over into Confederate space by the millions from the Bryn'adul crusades as well as the Imperial Civil War, which needed almost all hands on deck in aiding the systems around Monastery. Csilla had been destroyed, opening gateways to the Netherworld all over the Galaxy. Unrest on the borders demanded some precautionary measures as well.

And the cherry on top?

Vicelord Darth Metus excommunicated. Unrest raged across numerous systems at the fear of and prejudice against the Sith as a whole.

A nation in turmoil.

And the Armed Forces were the final buffer in the corporeal Confederate systems.

Vemric had grown weary of spending so much time in his office in the well secluded Headquarters of the CAF, known as Anthem. The Requiem provided more freedom than the wide open spaces of Naboo ever would. The great battlecruiser had, for long, been a second home to the Sephi.

To the disappointment of his personnel of course.

With the Grand Marshal on board, they always had to step up their game more than most naval officers. Even the droids were held to higher standards than those on other vessels. Even more so when their perfectionist Admiral was in a mood like the one he was in now.

Vemric was tense where he stood in front of the great plexalloy viewport. There was a hush on the bridge as everyone, including the droids attempted at being quiet with their actions. When the blare of an incoming transmission sounded, everyone except the Sephi jumped.
"Who?" came the cold, short question from Vemric as he looked back over his shoulder.
"Uh...oh! It's from Monastery, Sir. It's a Strill transmission." the newly promoted Commander Miles responded after stumbling over his tongue.
"Spit it out!" Vemric snapped as he turned around fully.
"It's Mando'ade Saram Kote, Sir. She says they received word of insurgents that slipped past border patrol. They were last seen making for the Monastery System."
"Very well. You!" Vemric answered before barking at an Ensign. "Fetch Master Ruus Kote . He would probably be down in the hangar doing Hoth knows what." he ordered before turning back to his Commander. "Send through a transmission to High Marshal Verin Oldo . I want him and the 513th in that system before I can blink. Also send one to Minister Kiff Brayde and inform him of the situation. And get us underway along with the 403rd." Vemric continued his orders like an auctioneer before turning back to the viewport. The bridge was suddenly alive with movement and before long, the Requiem and her compliment were underway.

The misfortune just seemed to heap up within the Confederacy.

Spoiler: OOC

Pirates got through the borders and are wanting take advantage of the overpopulation of refugees that were still hanging in orbit of Monastery.

Travel with the naval fleets or incidentally find yourself in the Monastery System when a heavy line of pirates attack. Protect the refugees or be in trouble yourself!

This is an opportunity for all Armed Forces, Mandalorians or any other CIS member to have some action.
Have fun!

 

[Ruus Kote]

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Friendly Units:​

• Shersehoy Mechanized Infantry Battalion
  • Shereshoy 6 Command Company
  • Shereshoy Aurek Solus Company

Tag(s): Vemric Keldra | Verin Oldo | Kiff Brayde ​

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Spoiler: Equipment

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• Armor:​
  • 'Verd'jurkad'gam'
    • NML-02VTB Nano missile Launcher
    • PC-05V Plasma Caster
    • TBP-01V Tractor-Pressor Beam Projector
    • MML-01V Miniaturized Missile Launcher
      • Surveillance Tagger Darts (2)
      • Electro Darts (2)
      • Explosive Darts (4)
• Weapons:
  • B-01M Beskad
  • M-06S 'Skirata' Mra'jitr (2)
  • RP-05A Ripper Pistol w/ 'Kyrayc Sur'haai' Short Range Optic
  • AR-2CQB Verpine Assault Rifle w/ UGL-02 Underbarrel Grenade Launcher and 'Kyrayc Sur'haai' Medium Range Optic
• Explosives:
  • 3x CryoBan Grenades
  • 3x NOVA40 Plasma Grenade
  • 2x Smoke Grenades
  • 2x Class-A Thermal Detonator
  • 2x Det-Packs
  • Implants:
    • 'Verd' Enhancement Package
    • 'Gar Tkiriyr' Neural Interface

Two platoons of Mirta Kyrr's Shereshoy battalion on a ship in transit usually meant that they were about to ruin some poor shabuir's day. Not today however. Today, they'd been tasked with training the marine complement aboard the CNS Requiem. That was not normally something that Ruus did, Strill actually had specialists for that on board their own warships, but none of those specialists were here, and he'd be damned if he let some Strill Kare tell him how to do what he'd been trained to do anyway. So here he was, in the ship's hangar bay, overseeing their training.

That wasn't entirely the case. He'd been asked by the alor to take this assignment. Apparently, they'd got the job in the first place when the Alor'd come to discuss the upgrades for the vessel, and ended up being present when some time travelling dar'jetii had shown up. Grand Marshal Keldra'd requested that Strill the ship's marine complement after seeing the Alor in action. Ruus didn't mind. Shereshoy and Kad b' Marev under his command were some of the most experienced units in the company, only made sense they got the best to take a job from their best client's naval Grand Marshal.

Ruus liked Keldra. They hadn't talked much, but he'd been on enough naval vessels in his lifetime to know that he ran a tight ship. The crew, however, certainly seemed to respect him. That much he could tell. Keldra was mandokarla, especially given what he'd heard. It was no wonder the marines they were training were giving it their all. The wiry, tall zabrak sparring Mirta, was just days ago being danced circles around. Now? Now he was almost keeping up with Mirta, who'd been serving twice as long as her sparring partner had.

The hardest part to break for them was getting them to stop fighting fair. They didn't pull any punches, but their fighting style was too...dignified, too formal. In the close combines of a boarding action, if it came down to hand-to-hand, all bets were off, and it was a better idea to stack the deck in one's own favor. That was, interestingly enough, the divining principle of fighting force users, which was also what they were here to help train them in. There was no one trick that'd win you the fight against a jetii or dar'jetii. The best thing to do was to stack the deck with as many advantages as you could, and ensure the element of surprise. Which was harder than it seemed, especially on a starship. Which was training was going to take some time.

He saw an ensign running in his direction from his buy'ce enhanced peripheral vision. Somehow he got the feeling he wasn't here to ask if he had any good tips on how to pick up women at a tapcaf. "Grand Marshal Keldra requests your presence on the bridge, sir," the man let out in between reasonably well disguised pants. To his credit, he looked like he sprinted the entire way. Ruus wondered what the poor di'kut had done to earn the tasking, considering that raising him on comms would have been more than sufficient, but decided it was none of his business. Grand Marshal Keldra was known for a few eccentricities, as he'd been informed.

"Udesii, ad'ika. I'll get up there. Any idea what he wants?" he asked, turning his helmet unnecessarily to regard the man. Ruus wagered it was bound to be important if he was being called to the bridge.

"Best he explain, sir," he managed to let out. Ruus nodded and began making for the bridge at jogging pace. Part out of urgency, and part because he was still coming down from after his last sparring bout. He sent Mirta the pre-coded signal to signify that he was away and that she was in charge till he returned as he made his way out of the hangar. Given that she was in the middle of a bout of her own, she'd likely only take notice once it was done.

Ruus reached the bridge without much more effort. The detail leader nodded politely, a slight smile flickering across his features in recognition. Ruus returned the nod, and stepped onto the bridge as the door was opened for him. It was not hard to pick the Grand Marshal out from the rest of the bridge crew, and so he made his approach, "I'm assuming this isn't to inquire about your men's progress so far..."

 

[Eternal Symphony]

THE CASIO FOUR NINE TRANSPORT SHIP
CIS SPACE NEAR MONASTERY
ARKANIS SECTOR
TAG: [OPEN]


“This is Casio Four Nine. I repeat, this is Casio Four Nine. We are under attack.”

The repeated calls for help rang through the lines of the military communication sector-wide. The system had alerted the relevant forces as swiftly as they had been able to. A distress signal from a Confederate Transport Ship was a Grade One response call; without fail and with great haste. The transport ship was poorly defended, escorted by two Terrus corvettes. Both now sat in a wide orbit of the Transport, listing lifelessly. They had sustained extreme bouts of damage from the attacking force and had shown little ability to defend the larger payload; thousands of souls destined for a better life within Confederate protection. Countless refugees had sought sanctuary over Monastery and the government had acted as swiftly as possible to account for their needs and desires; for a home. It was all threatened now.

“We are under attack from an unknown threat. Several frigates, cruisers, large fighter complement. We are under attack. Please send assistance right away.”

The crew were working tirelessly, frantically scrambling all the channels they could manage to get word out into every direction possibly in hope the NAVCOM would receive word of their predicament.

The interference from the nearby anomalies made choppy work of the transmissions, losing words here and there for the military monitoring relays.

“This is Casio Four Nine. I repeat, this is Casio Four Nine. We are under attack.”

A sharp and resolute voice responded to the bridge crew’s calls, cutting through their pleas.

“Crew of the Casio Four Nine. This is Eldermax Grant of the New Confederates. We have taken your ship into our custody and will begin the necessary operational procedures. We have already taken a large proportion of your ship and we will shortly be entering the bridge. I would advise at this stage that you cooperate to the fullest as the thousands of lives on board are now at the mercy of the New Confederacy. I will expect an answer in a matter of moments.”

The crew looked at each other, resolutely continuing with their task at hand. The main entrance door to the pristine white bridge opened with a shunt, several armed forces bursting through. Shots were exchanged, killing the three marines on board.

“This is Casio Four Nine. We are compromised. We are…”

The blaster shot took off a near half of the side of the comms operator’s crown, their cadaver slumping over the console. Eldermax Grant lowered his pistol and gazed steely eyed at the Confederate Captain of the ship, the First Officer stood next to him holding a grazed arm from a stray blast.

“Gentlemen. The bridge is ours. I will accept your formal surrender at this time.”

The Captain breathed heavily and raised himself a little higher than he might.

“Protocol Five of the Articles of NAVCOM Orders of Conduct forbid me to infer command of this vessel to a foreign…”

This blaster shot rang out from a different weapon, though just as volatile. It cut through the Captain’s throat and cauterised on impact, creating a welt of blood and flesh. It was a killing shot.

Grant turned to the First Officer.

“I will accept your formal surrender at this time.”

The First Officer swallowed hard.

“The ship is yours.”

Eldermax smiled, his eyes widening with a manic glee.

“Good.”

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The pervading force outside the Casio Four Nine began to form up, a series of frigates, cruisers and other retrofitted ships, some newer models to be found amongst them. All the while, streams of fighters, both droid and non-droid, flew sorties amongst the growing fleet. They now posed a serious threat to the wider sector at large.

Spoiler: New Confederate Forces

Starthrust Courier x3
Dauntless Fast Attack Cruiser x4
Martan-series Carrier Corvette x2

Ashblade Neurofighter Sqd. x4
DF-1 Scarab Swarm Fighter Sqd. x 8

 

[Verin Oldo]

ARKANIS SECTOR
MERDOCK NAVAL ARRAY
ENROUTE TO THE MONASTERY SYSTEM
[TAG Vemric Keldra Finn Roberts Taylon Kandor A ARS VAMI Ruus Kote ]

"I don't care who this Grant thinks he is or what he wants, we're going to get the little beffer if it pains me until next Life Day!"

Oldo marched onto the Bridge deck, suspended high above the main nerve centre of the Battlecruiser's central command post. Since the Grand Marshal's communique, all Hoth had broken loose in the NAVCOM chatter. Reports of a requisitioned cruise liner-cum-transport had billowed back and forth and he had little time for hearsay and gossip. The facts were all that was warranted at this time.

"Who have we got?"

The comms officer replied.

"We have Commander Finn Roberts of the 524. They've just finished maintenance rounds for the past few days. Commander Taylon Kandor is also reporting in with the 525. We have full mobilization and clearance expected in two hours."

Oldo pondered. This group would bring some serious firepower to bear on the situation. It would require delicacy and dexterity as well as destructive might.

"Make it so. Get the clearances started now and get those ships out of the gates. Prepare the 513 to jump."

His own Line, the 513, was famous within the Sector Armada. It had fought several pitched battles and had known casualties at Talay and Dantooine. His own flagship, the CNS Al'raja, was a fine Victator-class and would make light work of most military vessels, let alone the rag-tag bunch he expected to find.

The comms officer settled back at their console close to the chair of the High Marshal and began to relay the orders necessary to mobilize the NAVCOM.

"Commander Roberts, this is the Al'raja. Orders are to mobilise at once and meet at the dispatched coordinates. Expect hostiles. 513 to join. 524 to join in support. Make all haste. Imperative that hostiles are not neutralised at the expense of civilian lives.

They flicked their console and repeated the orders towards the comms watch on various other ships, including that of Taylon Kandor.

Oldo glared at the report again from his commander, Grand Marshal Vemric Keldra, and shook his head. Another sad day in the struggle for the Confederacy.

Spoiler: 513 Line makeup

513th Heavy Attack Line

• x1 Victator-class Battlecruiser
  • CNS Al’raja
• x2 Grievous-class Star Destroyers
• CNS Exigent
• CNS Carrhae White
• x2 Argente-class Assault Cruisers
  • CNS Last Disciple
  • CNS Shadowrun
• x4 Murkhana-class Escort Frigates
  • CNS Aspis
  • CNS Cannae
  • CNS Utica
  • CNS Capua
• x6 Terrus-class Flak Frigates
  • CNS Pedestal
  • CNS Aevala
  • CNS Sundark
  • CNS Alisandor
  • CNS Dantooine

 

[Finn Roberts]

TAG: Verin Oldo | Ruus Kote | Taylon Kandor | Vemric Keldra | A ARS VAMI Kiff Brayde

BACK IN BLACK​

"You're kidding right?"

Derrick had stared at Finn, despair written all over his face while the half-empty glass of Spicebrew had remained forgotten in one hand.
"Look at my face. Does it look like I'm fethin' kidding, Derrick?" Finn had snapped at him, annoyance at the whole situation bubbling over at his friend and subordinate's disappointment.

They had barely been home from being relieved of watch at the strange gate that had appeared into what reports said to be the Netherworld. It was all a whole lot of crazy they were not prepared for. Now, they were ordered up once more to go save some refugee fools.

He couldn't really blame Derrick's response, as he wanted some leisure time for a change as well. They had been running back to back from one problem to the other in recent months. They were tired. Now they were being thrown into a new conflict with some crazies.

As the Phantom Queen and company started to get ready for the jump to Hyperspace, Finn was hunched over the holomap, looking at what lay ahead. Aside from Monastery, there was a lot of empty space around in that area. A lot of space for these New Confederates to make a quick jump if they can't be properly boxed in.
"Oh hot darnit!"
Derrick's curse had Finn look out at the bridge.
"What now?" he asked, standing up straight.
"Guess who is along for the ride." Derrick answered.
"Your mother?" Finn asked as he walked out onto the bridge. "Oh wait..."
Derrick scowled. "Yeah, along with yours." he teased right back, as both men had lost their mothers at young ages. He then cleared his throat. "Orders came through from the Al'raja. We are to engage on arrival aaaand....the 525th is coming along." he then said.
"Great. Kandor will have a great view as we show him how to shoot at people." Finn responded.

Turning, he then looked at the rest of the bridge.
"Frank, ready the ships. We're going in hot. All hands to stations." he ordered his Lieutenant.
"Aye, 'Mander." Frank replied before hitting the comms with his Commander's orders for the Line.

Finn walked over to the Command chair and took a seat, listening to the Naval chatter over the comms. Reports were hot. They weren't dealing with some rag tag bunch of wannabe pirates. Whoever these New Confederates were, they meant business. Picking up the worn out old coin that stayed in the cup holder of the chair and twirled it around over his fingers for a minute or two.
"Get me Taylon Kandor." he told the droid at the comms panel.
"Sir yes Sir." it responded before hailing the Iron Claw
"What are you doing?" Derrick asked him pointedly.
"The Iron Claw, Sir." the droid's monotone announced.
Finn smirked. "Commander Kandor! Nice of you to join us on this venture. Hopefully you brought enough firepower this time around. Wouldn't want to make you look bad in front of the Grand Marshal with my more superior ordnance. I'll save you a spot on the other side, provided your derelict doesn't fall apart during the jump." he then baited his fellow Commander and the newest thorn in his side.
Derrick groaned in the background. "Why me?" he mouthed.

There never was a dull moment where his friend was concerned.

To Finn Roberts, everything was a competition that needed to be won.

Spoiler: 524th Line-Up

• x1 Grievous-class Star Destroyers - Flagship
  • CNS Phantom Queen
• x4 Argente-class Assault Cruisers
  • CNS Golden Revenge
  • CNS Loyal Secret
  • CNS Mad Tide
  • CNS Doom Ranger
• x2 Murkhana-class Escort Frigates
  • CNS Dragon’s Trinity
  • CNS Hangman’s Poison
• x6 Terrus-class Flak Corvettes
  • CNS Cursed Harpy
  • CNS Anne’s Lament
  • CNS Burning Plague
  • CNS Medusa’s Horde
  • CNS Trojan
  • CNS Kelpie

 

[Garm Oligard]

Tag: Finn Roberts, Verin Oldo
Commander Garm Oligard stood on the bridge of the CNS Red Death, the Argente-class Assault Cruiser that he had chosen for his flagship. The 541st Skirmish Line was in formation, with the various Fast Attack Corvettes lined up in an offensive formation in the front of the formation while the Assault Cruiser hung around the middle and the Escort Carriers carried up the rear with the Flak Corvettes covering the two vessels vulnerable engine's flanks. It was a very nice formation of ships, very nice indeed. Whether it would last through the line's first major combat he had yet to know. Nothing ever lasted after the first shots blasted off into the black void of space as the Commander well knew. At least his people would be ready for it, they better be after all the drills they had done since he had taken command.

While not a hardass officer, Garm knew that practice made perfect and he had put the Line's crews through their paces with the various formations and combat drills. He needed to see what the line was capable of and thankfully, after a few missteps and misunderstandings that always came between a new commander and their numerous crews, the line was able to make a decent team together. He had even had earned the Death's gunnery crews respect by shooting down target discs with one of the point defense guns manually by himself. All in all, he wouldn't trade up this job for the world. The Daedra's only regret was being enthralled with the operations of his line, he hadn't had a chance to introduce himself to the rest of the fleet's officers. Though that might not be the best idea, from all that he had heard from the crew, Commander Roberts of the 524th was rather... smuggler-like... and wasn't the best with authority. Then again Garm wasn't the best with people whose authority was bigger than their brain cells so maybe they would get along just fine. He had little information on any of the other Commanders in the fleet and their personality which was a worry for him in the long run. The fleet had to move together as one machine of course and its gears, the lines, couldn't be causing teething issues that hampered the whole machine's progress. Oh well, that meeting would have to commence later, there was a situation to resolve now.

Apparently, there was a pretender fleet trying to raid a shipping hub where many of the galaxies refugees entered the CIS officially. The pretenders had taken over a transport as well, making the situation even more complicated. This wasn't going to be an easy first mission per se, but then, what was. The Commander listened in as the Marshal's orders filtered across the fleet channel.

"Commander Roberts, this is the Al'raja. Orders are to mobilize at once and meet at the dispatched coordinates. Expect hostiles. 513 to join. 524 to join in support. Make all haste. Imperative that hostiles are not neutralized at the expense of civilian lives."

His long ears flicked as the fleet channel as closed, no mention of his line at all. He turned to the comm station, its crew member's deciphering messages from all across thee fleet. Good working men and women those, they all were. He calmly interrupted their work with a tail thump. "Anything filter through for us." The brunette ensign that commanded the station turned around to face him, shaking her head. "Not yet Commander, just the 513th and the 524th." With a quick nod, he exclaimed. "Well then, lets make ourselves known. Open up a channel to the Al'raja." With a formal salute, the ensign quickly spun on her heel, ordering her people to open up a channel. "We are transmitting Commander" Garm focused on the blacky icky space outside the viewport, counting the ships of the fleet as he calmly spoke through the fleet comm. "This is the Red Death of the 541st to the Al'raja. My Line is checking in High Marshal, fully fueled up and ready to burn. Do your orders mean we are staying behind Sir or do you have additional orders for us?" The High Marshal didn't seem like the type of man to not count the total forces he had under his command but it could happen to anyone. He was a very busy man after all and hardly had time to count the lines, that was a job for his planners and strategists. Either way, Garm would have his answer soon.

"Switch over to the line communications" With the words "Switched Sir" coming into his ear, he quickly spoken something short and sweet. "This is Commander Oligard. You all have trained hard over the last week and it has been my pleasure to see you in action as a line. I couldn't have wished for a better command even if I tried. You all have heard the Marshal, the fleet has been tasked to move out with ourselves in reserve. I don't know if we will see action today but by the force, we will give whoever gets in a way a thrashing they will never forget. May the force be with you in this battle and always, Line command out." As the channel shut down, Garm could only smile to himself. His line was ready as it would ever be. The pretenders could only hope to be when he gave them the thrashing it deserved.

Spoiler

541st Skirmish Line

• x1 Argente-class Assault Cruiser
  • CNS Red Death
• x2 Bonteri-class Escort Carriers
  • CNS Lux’s Heir
  • CNS Sixth Ace
• x3 Terrus-class Flak Corvettes
  • CNS Falson
  • CNS Lombardi
  • CNS Black Talon
• x6 Trench-class Fast Attack Corvettes
  • CNS Defiant
• CNS Dreamrun
• CNS Envy
• CNS Fool’s Remedy
• CNS Forward Path
• CNS Misdeed

 

[RST-TYRANNES]

T E R M I N A T E​

Objective: TERMINATE Targets.
Tag: Vemric Keldra | Verin Oldo | Finn Roberts | Ruus Kote | Garm Oligard

\\ MONASTERY-ALERT-CRITICAL \\
V330CRF104MES492
TMST/08:09
AI-COM/TYRN: ASSESSMENT

• ASSETS//UNICOM-LGN06:093//OFFLINE
• ASSETS//NAVCOM-TRFLT:893//OFFLINE
• ASSETS//NAVCOM-FLT:403//ACTIVE
• ASSETS//NAVCOM-FLT:513//ACTIVE
• ASSETS//NAVCOM-FLT:524//ACTIVE
• ASSETS//NAVCOM-FLT:541//ACTIVE
• ASSETS//BRSG-MIB//INDEPENDENT
• ENTITY//log:"New Confederates"//HOSTILE

ASSESSMENT-COMPLETE

The chassis of RST-TYRANNES, Grand General of the Confederacy's Unified Ground Command, activated. The super tactical droid was never offline -- when its frame was deactivated, its conscience existed in the datastreams and command center of the Confederacy military. Always initiating directives. Always giving orders. Not a thing existed in the Confederacy Military that did not go unnoticed by the Grand General.

Reports had been filed of an incursion over Monastery. Within less than a second, TYRANNES had reviewed every bit of information about the planet, its star system, and data gathered by CIS forces present. The transport fleet targeted by the New Confederates was unresponsive to the server pings initiated by TYRANNES. But it was unlikely that the New Confederates had enough knowledge to jam the second UNICOM transceiver, that would control the presumably-deactivated battalion of droids onboard the ship. Without the relay of the larger ships, however, TYRANNES was unable to connect from Naboo, where his mindframe was currently located.

It was no matter.

DIRECTIVE//COMMUNICATION-NABOO-IMPERATIVE
TRNS::689237N4941::
-- DSTN --
ID-LOG//NAVCOM-CNS-REQUIEM
TRNS::884747H0816::

"Grand Marshal Keldra." TYRANNES spoke over the CNS Requiem's bridge comm system. "I request that you direct any assets in the Monastery system to establish a secure connection with the CASIO-Four-Nine. There are UNICOM assets onboard that require a stable connection to activate." Normally TYRANNES would've established a holographic presence, but time was of the imperative.

"I await your success."

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