Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Ruat Caelum | Golden Company and the Sith Empire

Qonto - Qonto System - Outer Rim Territories
Scattered Remnants of the Rebel Alliance Fleet.

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In the aftermath of the tumultuous Invasion of Gree, the former capital of the band of rebellious souls that dared to form an alliance, and brazenly assault the world of Dubrillion in the name of freedom; those that survived scattered to the winds. Their fledgling navy, comprised of old Dominion and Republic vessels, took to the stars - and fled from the battle in hopes of living out another day. They achieved their goal in some regard, as the Sith-Imperial war machine focused its sights elsewhere - seeking to snuff out the embers of what the Silver Jedi had abandoned in their attempt to flee from the coming retribution. They were free to move beyond the burgeoning Empire’s borders, and recruit more willing aspirants to their cause. The seeds of rebellion, or at least their version of it, would continue onwards until they were strong enough to strike again whilst the Empire’s gaze was averted elsewhere.

It was above the neutral world of Qonto that their paltry flotilla gathered in the hopes of bringing this system into their confidence, and into their collective thereafter. However, after their failure and defeat at the Battle of Gree, these self-styled Rebels found themselves unable to inspire conviction in those that once believed in their creed. How could a planet throw its weight behind a cause that was coming apart at the seems? With more and more desertions stacking up on an almost daily basis - it was an almost impossible task to bring new souls into the fold. Yet, despite these hard truths of reality, there were those that believed in the cause; who figured that hope itself would carry the day. It worked for those that came before when they rose up and fought against the Emperor Palpatine - thus they saw little difference in their plight against the relentless march of the Sith Empire resurgent.

The people of Qonto were no fools, however, they knew of the horrors that were wrought upon the worlds that didn’t bow down to the Sith Emperor’s right to rule. As a collective, they knew that if they had thrown themselves behind a lost cause - then the worst fates imaginable would await them. Thus, with the remnants of the feeble alliance in orbit the Qonto, not the system but the people themselves, secretly sought to deny their dark futures by making a deal with the supposed devil himself. They contacted the Sith Empire and informed them that their enemy had forcibly made their skies home. The Qonto asked that someone be sent to dispatch them and that in gratitude - they’d pledge themselves in service to their Imperial-cause. As their response, however, the Sith Empire had sent the Golden Company; contracted mercenaries who specialized in hunting down seditious wretches and putting them to the torch. However, they wouldn’t be sent alone - as those amongst the Order of the Sith who called themselves Valkyries would be sent as well.

Let those that seek to defy the Sith Emperor to be punished by those who bring death from above.

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With his high-crested helm tucked beneath his arm, Khonsu found himself on the verge of pacing the flight deck of the deployment hangar as the rest of his Cohort finished with their rituals of preparation.

He was eager to finish this fight, as the memories of the battle of Gree were still fresh in his mind. The man recalled when their transport was shot down, and the man he was forced to carry as they charged towards an Alliance-held city. It wasn’t something that the, at that time, Twisuns Legate expected himself doing in the heat of the moment, nor was it the most tactically sound decision to make. Who, in their right mind, would burden themselves with the weight of another as they charged towards a fortified position? Apparently, it was enough to give the self-styled Rebels a moment’s pause, as they stared on with disbelief. Not only were they dying in droves under the pressure and might of the Sith-Imperial war machine, but they were cut down by a madman in gold, with the body of a comrade thrown over his shoulder too? That was madness.

However, as the ashes of battle began to settle - Khonsu was denied his glory. It went to another, as they surged through the gap and punched deep into the heart of the enemy’s stronghold. Ever since that moment, it has been a black stain on his honour that would only be washed away in the blood of these remaining dregs. There was no other option for him now; no other recourse that could be made. The blood of anyone else would simply add to the mark, and bring the newly christened Praetor nothing but shame. Therefore, the Thychani Warlord wanted to end this ordeal quickly - slaying whatever paltry remnants of the Alliance forces remained to plague the universe with their filth.

As they finished their rituals the Myrmidons - who the entire task force was named after - roused themselves from the flight deck and crowned themselves with polished gold. With the all too familiar sound of their suit’s atmospherically sealing, and their high-velocity jetpacks thrumming with barely contained fury; the Sun Guard were ready for battle.

Now, all that remained was for the others who dwelled within the fluted bowels Solvognen to claim the same - then the Operation would begin in earnest.

| [member="Kaalia Pavanos"] | [member="Horus Ra"] | [member="Apophis Natuu"] | [member="Corso"] | [member="Lyric Onasi"] | @TSE Valkyries | @Golden Company Mercs |​
 
Where one was willing to do what was necessary in the name of growth and progress, another would rise to try to stop them. It was an inevitability that left its mark on every era the galaxy would see. Even the greatest nations fell to it, yet despite the seemingly endless ranks of those who looked to strike at the Sith Empire its growth was still seemingly unending. That was not without reason- where opposition reared its head, the empire would strike back. So, when the final fragment of a rebellion struck down made the skies of Qonto their home, the imperial hand sent down a piece of their strength to bring it to a definitive end. The Golden Company was hired to lend their own, while they themselves sent the Valkyries. They were the watchful eye on the battlefields of the Sith, seeking out those who could yet be made to see the Dark side. In snuffing out this small flicker of the Light, perhaps some could find their way to the Dark.

Much like the mercenaries that they would stand side to side with on this day, the numbers that made the Valkyries were making their own preparations for what was to come. Corruption-filled eyes swept over the collective of those who Darth Avacyn saw as her sisters even if Kaalia did not, for what bonded them was the code they followed. Still, although she had been appointed the triumvir of strength of the Brotherhood of the Sith just recently, it had already drastically changed things. Leading the Valkyries like she had done ever since the disappearance of the other founders simply wasn't feasable anymore. There would have to be another elder, so she would no longer stand alone. The woman already knew who it had to be.

Avacyn's thoughts then snapped back to the present. The time was near for the operation to begin, and so from the meditative position she sat in she would finish her own preparations with one final thing. Clutching a rune with a marking in the Sith language in her left hand, she closed her eyes and drew from the Force around her to channel it into the rune.

"Zo dvasia maskuoti nu sekleti aveti."

The words unlocked something within Avacyn and her appearance began to alter, shifting into the ghostly form she had created for herself. To her enemies, her skin appeared a pale white, her locks of hair were of the spectral kind and her eyes glowed a luminescent red- but unlike times past this was not the case for her allies. Practice with this application of Sith sorcery, even if it was quite basic, had allowed her to make it so those who stood on her side would not be affected by the illusion that wrapped around her.

After the preparation was completed, the Sith lady rose to her feet and with a quick tap of her finger she activated the comms piece in her ear, the recipient of the message she was about to send being the Praetor of The Golden Company.

"The Valkyries stand ready. Begin the assault and we shall follow."

[member="Khonsu Amon"] | [member="Horus Ra"] | [member="Apophis Natuu"] | [member="Corso"] | [member="Lyric Onasi"] | [member="Vaylin"]
 
GCV Solvognen // Myrmidon Task Force
Qonto System // Outer Rim Territories​
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In the months since Dubrillion Centurion Corso had known only war. His only time for reflection and penitence were moments like these, far from the twin suns of his homeland and with only the stench of death to serve in lieu of traditional Thyrsian incense. For half his life Felix had rebelled against his people's ancient and savage ways, yet now that he had discovered his faith he could only describe this lifestyle as glorious. The more insurgent blood he spilled, the closer he felt to his creators.

Corso had been reassigned to command a cohort of Nekhbet pilots not long after Gree. It had seemed like a waste of his natural fighting prowess when he first received his new orders, a disappointment that had only lasted until the first time he stepped inside one. It was an unbelievably empowering feeling, to have access to such raw destructive firepower at one's fingertips. Reconnaissance walker duty didn't have quite the same moment to moment adrenaline rush that he so loved about skewering opponents face to face on the battlefield with a force pike or talwaar, but when there was hostile contact operating a Nekhbet unit was better than sex.

"By Hormazd's will," the Stellar Centurion intoned after clambering inside his chassis, voice activation keyphrase unlocking system access and bringing its integrated droid brain out of sleep mode, "Past sunsrise, Aten. Ready to get to work?"

Affirmative, Centurion. Probability of mission hindrance: zero percent.

"You got that right."

He had named his walker after a famous historical figure from Thyrsian history, an ancient general and warrior of great renown. It was just a machine, but the Nekhbet walker's computer was intelligent enough to function as essentially his co-pilot so some form of appellation beyond a mere service number seemed only practical. Over time however the Sun Guard had come to appreciate his artificial companion's distinct personality underneath all the optimistic pro-Hierarchy jingoism that was wired into every model.

There was limited room within the Solvognen's modest hangar to fully test Aten's motor control, but a systems check came back all clear, and Centurion Corso checked in with the rest of his cohort on their internal frequency to ensure they were all seeing the same. Once he had verified his cavalry unit was good to go, he raised his legion's Tribune.

"Numidian Squadron ready to deploy," Felix drawled, triple checking the sensitivity on his rotary cannon's gimballed mount, "May the twin suns watch over you."

It would be good to be rid of these rebel holdouts once and for all. Corso was not a political animal, he left questions like who to kill and why for the Tribunes and Legates, but this had been a long and bloody campaign and it was difficult not to take resistance like that a little personally. He had lost trusted brothers to the blades of those who were not worthy to spill Thyrsian blood, and it was that kind of insolence that made him feel so righteous in his spiritual crusade against any who would dare defy his people.

[member="Khonsu Amon"] | [member="Kaalia Pavanos"] | [member="Horus Ra"] | [member="Apophis Natuu"] | [member="Lyric Onasi"] | [member="Vaylin"]
 
Horus stood in another of the deployment bays of the GCV Solvognen. Behind him, the Phoenix Legion stood marshaled at the ready. Their spears held at the ready. Horus had trained and whittled down the band of misfits to this unit. Today would be a good opportunity to see if they were ready to prove their worth on the battle field. "Honour the twin suns!" "With fight with the light, to dispel the shadows!" "Damn right!" He gave a nod and slipped his helmet on. His HUD systems quickly booting up and connecting his comm channel to the Twinsuns Legate. "The Phoenix Legion stands ready at your command."
 
At the very front of the Crimson Valkyrie's bridge, Vaylin stood in silent contemplation. Watching as the ship drifted through hyperspace. The Zabrak hadn't been present over Gree when the Empire had retaliated, but now the Valkyries were being called upon to help wipe out the last dregs that had managed to survive.

"Captain?"

"We're two minutes out."

Vaylin peered behind her as she felt the air shift around them suddenly shift. The crew remained none the wiser, or simply didn't acknowledge the change. But the Zabrak knew the source, and watched as the Force was pulled around Darth Avacyn. To Vaylin's surprise though, the spectre form was no longer visible to her.

It seemed the Elder Valkyrie had learned to refine the technique since she had last saw it.

"Exiting hyperspace!"

The callout brought Vaylin's attention back to the viewpoint, just as the vessel departed hyperspace and came into view of Qonto. And then in a matter of seconds, the Vermillion Authority appeared all around it.

A fleet of Havod-plated Xo'Xaan II-class Star Destroyers. The enemy wasn't going to make it out of this battle.

Vaylin turned on her heels just as Avacyn rose to her feet and opened a commlink to the Golden Company's Praetor. The Zabrak said nothing as she stopped by the side of her Valkyrie Sister, giving her a small nod before the pair departed the bridge.

[member="Khonsu Amon"] | [member="Kaalia Pavanos"] | [member="Horus Ra"] | [member="Apophis Natuu"] | [member="Corso"] | [member="Lyric Onasi"]​
 

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