Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Invasion Schism's Dawn // NIO invasion of TSE controlled Mygeeto and Muunilinst


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OOC Thread

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MYGEETO
With the arrival of the reserve forces, planetary scans revealed that the reinforcements had been timed with a powerful snow storm which was blowing over the target objective of the SIBC Vault Administrative Centers in Southern Mesas Bridge Towers. Facing overwhelming odds and dwindling supplies, the Sith Empire in turn had put a call out for additional support. However, with most sector group forces committed at Muunilinst, the defenders need to buy additional time while they wait for much needed help to arrive.

Knowing that any delay would defeat the purpose of a siege breaking push, Warmaster Vexen gives the go ahead for a planetary assault, coordinated in tandem with a push on the ground in the Mesas Towers and bridges. Screened by the NIO sieging fleet, Inceptus Assault Ships begin a planetary assault dive. Guided by data beamed back by probe droids, the ships make their way to Southern Mesas through the snowstorm. However, the snowstorm has developed into a full on frost cyclone and visibility in the atmosphere and on the ground drops to zero.

While flying blind, the assault ships are literally rammed into by a low-atmospheric Sith patrol armada. Sith Patrol Frigates crash into Inceptus Assault Ships over the Southern Mesas. A brief skirmish breaks out and several ships on both sides are sunk. True hell is unleashed as out of the thick blanket of grey that is the cyclone above, burning, exploding and sinking ships begin to rain down on the Southern Mesas. Surviving Inceptus Ships begin deploying their Gunships for troop landings while debris and wreckage rains down around them.

The Battle in the Frost Cyclone has begun, and the carnage will be mutual.

Invasion RP begins in-media-res during and right after the clash between the Inceptus Assault Ships and the Sith Patrol Armada. RP out the horror and the drama of burning ships raining down out of the cyclone above, and establish how your character survives and prepares for the true battle on the Southern Mesas bridges. In addition, there is a brutal naval battle above, as Sith Imperial Armadas move to finally break the NIO Naval Siege. There are Two Objectives:

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OBJECTIVE 1: Battle in the Frost Cyclone // Sith Imperial Banking Clan Vaults At Southern Mesas

During the prolonged Siege of Mygeeto, the fighting was mainly focused on the Southern Mesas Towers and their network of elevated bridges. The Mesas was quickly divided into two, with the NIO and Sith Empire controlling a series of Mesas Towers across from one another. Two bridge networks called Bridge One and Two were left as a no-man’s land. With the coming of the NIO Reinforcements via Inceptus Class Assault Ships the NIO prepare for a final siege breaking all out attack in order to reach their target - the Sith Intergalactic Banking Vault Towers. In contrast, the Sith must hold out and rebuff this final wave of force and turn the tides to force a full retreat of NIO Forces from the Souther Mesas towers.

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OBJECTIVE 2: Battle of the Bloody Aurora // NIO-TSE Naval Battle Over Mygeeto

While the NIO Reinforcement Forces begin their descent for an airborne assault on the Southern Mesas the gathered fleets of the NIO must prepare to hold their ground as a relief Sith Naval Armada arrives to rid the Mygeeto System of the NIO’s space command. Hung over the cold frost world, the Battle of the Bloody Aurora shall she capital ships class in an all out naval clash that will decide who owns the heavens over Mygeeto.
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MUUNILINST
With Mygeeto under siege, Army Group NIMUN disembarks to split the attention of the Sith-Imperial legions at the front by making a push past the deadlock unto Muunilinst. Charging headfirst into the fray - the 1st “Punished” Stormtrooper Legion and 12th Armored Assault Army alongside allied forces from the Galactic Alliance and the Sons of Mandalore commanded by the Sovereign Imperator Irveric Tavlar seek to make a swift and decisive breakthrough into the city to buy time for the forces at Mygeeto to eventually relieve their own assault.

With the bulk of the assaulting force in a slog to advance into Harnaidan, several breakthroughs have been made into the streets of the city resulting in skillful infiltration or brutal close quarters urban warfare. All the while dropships continue to flow down from orbit to support and reinforce troops on the surface even as many find themselves plummeting into the choking streets and alleyways of the city, forced to regroup with their other scattered comrades in the hopes of consolidating and disrupting the city’s defenses to make way for the main attack force.

Contrasting the push to break the stalemate on Mygeeto, the Blackblade Guard sit in a fortified position behind prepared defenses as the New Imperial Order embarks on a dogged assault utilizing heavy armor, artillery, waves of infantry and crushing aerial support, NIMUN seeks to will control over the city with brute force.
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OBJECTIVE 1: Assault On Harnaidan // Assault on the planet's capital

Arriving in force to take the city outright, the New Imperial Order is relentless in its advance, seeking to punch through, infiltrate or land into the city in order to take it by any means necessary. Pay for each inch with blood, everything is counting on this moment. All the while the Sith Imperials need to stand valiant and defend Harnaidan. Prepare ambushes, lay traps or fight them as they batter down the gates.

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OBJECTIVE 2: Duel Over High Point // NIO-TSE Naval Battle Over Muunilinst

Suspended above Harnaidan, securing control of the Skyhook High Point station is vital in keeping or holding the planet. This is the focal point of the naval engagement above the world. Taking it for the New Imperial Order ensures greater air superiority in the battle beneath while holding it means a greater chance at repelling the invaders on behalf of the Sith Empire.


Post Template by Annasari
Invasion banner and HUGE writeup work by Imperial Warlord Zovesa Imperial Warlord Zovesa
Dividers by Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt
NIO Symbol by Adrial Magnus
TSE Symbol by Fiolette Raaf
GA and Tithe v Tambor drip by Republic Engineering Republic Engineering

Overall huge thanks to the rest of the NIO staff and creative team for the monstrous work done in setting up this invasion. And big thanks to TSE and their staff for participating and contributing to this narrative.
 
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Major Faction

Ryv

Paragon of Sacrifice
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// SWORD OF THE JEDI // FOCUSED CRUSADER //
//
ABOARD AN HVADx HEAVY ASSAULT DROPSHIP // MUUNILIST // ASSAULT ON HARNAIDAN //
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DEBRIEF FORCES // OVERCOME DEFENDERS //
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CRISIS //
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HVADx HEAVY ASSAULT DROPSHIP // BLADE OF RUUSAN // DRIP // SPEEDER
// ASPIS //
// Lucien Dooku Lucien Dooku // Dorian Sicarrio Dorian Sicarrio // Trajan Fett Trajan Fett
// Lord Venari Lord Venari // Leon Amun Leon Amun // Vallaro Kindall Vallaro Kindall





En route to Muunilist, hours before the assault...
The day had come, no later than promised by the Sovereign-Imperator, Irveric Tavlar. Ryv watched an uncountable sea of stars racing by as the Dissident Aggressor shot through hyperspace to the target of this surprise assault. It would be foolish to assume the Sith-Imperial Regime did not consider such a possibility. Still, with months of siege now halting the New Imperial Order's advancement on Mygeeto, something had to be done. With Muunilist the next big step in the conquest along the Braxant run, it only made sense to wrap around the forces on Mygeeto in hopes of cutting off their supply line, while simultaneously trapping their forces between a rock and a hard place. The added support of fresh Galactic Alliance troops, new to the battle against the Sith Empire, promised to be a potential turning point in the extended siege. And with the Galactic Alliance came more than just soldiers, but also Jedi. The Sword of the Jedi had seen his hand-selected forces in action more than once, as Maynard Treicolt Maynard Treicolt and Loske Treicolt Loske Treicolt fought side-by-side with the younger Jedi on more than one occasion. If Ryv could trust anyone to make a difference in the first stages of this war, it would be his two best friends. Beyond the near-inseparable trio, he even approved the support of one Allyson Locke Allyson Locke , formerly of the SIS, and currently an acting SIA agent.
It scared the hell out of Ryv to consider what this all meant for his forces. There could be no guarantee any of them would make it back home. His decisions could very quickly be the end of his life, but the lives of his closest friends and loved ones. The weight threatened to topple the isolated Jedi, its grip tight on him and dragging ever downward to whatever fate awaited the kiffar if he ever truly broke. It took taking up the Blade of Ruusan from his side to break the melancholy that nearly settled on Ryv's mind. The calming aura that radiated from the weapon never failed to ease his more anxious nature, even in moments as pivotal as this. The fate of the galaxy relied on the actions taken by the brave men and women fighting for the New Imperial Order and Galactic Alliance. For a victory here would prove the Sith Empire far from the unbreakable machine they'd claimed for the past decade. And if that machine could see a defeat here, it could see its end on Bastion all the same.
Ryv turned away from the viewport and returned the lightsaber hilt to his belt. Within the room, dozens of Imperial and Alliance personnel alike joined him, all chatting among themselves in wait. Newly constructed speeder bikes, courtesy of one Fidavar Norn Fidavar Norn , awaited their use. The plan put forward by the Sovereign-Imperator seemed borderline crazy when first presented to the combined forces. Still, the more Ryv considered the implications, the more it fell in place within his less experienced mind. Many opponents found the more significant or durable machine a far more compelling choice. Having the means to outpace and outrun the Sith Empire's forces, especially if they subscribed to the former idea, could only benefit them in the long run. Eventually finding himself in agreement with the Imperator's unorthodox strategy, Ryv volunteered to lead the initial assault into enemy lines atop these new vehicles. Perhaps a part of him wanted to prove himself the courageous leader some thought him to be, or maybe his borderline suicidal tendencies kicked in once more. He couldn't be sure anymore. It didn't matter in the long run.
"Alright everyone, gather round. We're gonna go over this little scheme of ours one more time," Ryv called everyone to attention as the lights began to dim. A centralized holoprojector whirred to life, projecting the outskirts of Harnaidan. "The moment we exit hyperspace, the Sovereign-Imperator and his advance forces will deploy ahead of us. Once they have established a point of contact, that's where we come in," as Ryv spoke, the projector followed suit, visually playing out the plan of action. "We're expecting heavy resistance throughout Muunilist, given its an urban battleground. To overcome those defenses, we'll be wave two of this lovely assault. And to be honest, I think we've got the fun part of all this shit anyway," a broad smile took hold of his features as the very same heavy dropship they all inhabited came into frame. The side doors of the dropship slid back, revealing the dozens of speeders and riders within the room, descending from the ship itself. A mix of excitement and fear bubbled up within the room. Some prepared to argue against such a maneuver, claiming something so crazy could only work in a holoflick or story. Others seemed ready to make the drop into an open warzone at the drop of a dime—strange crowd.
"Whether you're in your typical speeder or a speeder bike, these bad boys can fly. The danger won't come from splatting on contact; it'll be from the starfighter and other anti-air weapons they have in place. That's why we're following up on the Sovereign-Imperator and his ground forces. We'll have birds in the air covering our entry, while dropships push further into the city. In comparison to what the rest of our forces are bringing to this battle, we're small game. Now," Ryv moved towards the terminal as he spoke. "Once we land, our primary goal is piercing the enemies forward defenses and sowing chaos. We have the advantage of speed and maneuverability. Plus, we're talking about an urban setting. Most of what they've got to handle us won't hold a candle to these bad boys. They were built for cityscapes. Just keep your head on straight, work with your squadrons, and communicate effectively. If too many of your team fall, fallback and regroup with Tavlar. You're better alive and fighting than dead and gone, somewhere in the city."
The joined Alliance and Imperial forces fell in line, breaking into their appointed groups to begin any further discussion. Ryv smiled to himself, somewhat content with the debrief he provided his men. It helped keep his mind off how few of them he'd see after the battle. Next on his list of responsibilities came a more specialized task. The Sword of the Jedi scanned the room, seeking out the faces he'd personally requested for the next step in their operation. Fortunately, none of them were particularly difficult to spot. Between the Mandalorian, a newly recruited member of the Imperial Force Corps, and one exiled Prince of Serenno, it was unlikely Ryv could recruit a more ragtag group. And to keep things honest, he wouldn't have wanted it any other way. He quickly moved between the trio, collecting each one in turn before returning to the terminal in the center of the room.
"With the broad strokes handled, we're gonna need to cover while I requested the two of you," Ryv looked to Trajan and Dorian. "To join Lucien and me during this grand operation of ours," the kiffar tapped away at the terminal beside him as he spoke, doing his utmost to cover all the information necessary before the ship escaped hyperspace. "We've received word from Alliance SIA one Lord Venari Lord Venari will be planetside, helping coordinate the planet's defense. Joining the Sith Lord is a pair of mercenaries he's known to contract in the past. Both Leon Amun Leon Amun and Vallaro Kindall Vallaro Kindall are reported to be extremely dangerous. Given the nature of this battle, we need to neutralize whatever threatens our ground forces before they can be engaged, so," Ryv looked to Dorian and Lucien. "Once we break through the frontline, we're going to seek out and engage this trio. While that happens, Mancatcher," he turned to the beskar-clad Mandalorian. "You'll take over command of the speeder squadrons. This plan is the best we're gonna do with what we've got, so let's make sure we get as many of these good warriors back home to their families, alright?"
Ryv looked over each of them for a second longer, offering each his typical grin, before turning away to move towards his speeder bike. He ran his hand over the unscathed vessel, a small smile forming on his face. It wouldn't be long until the speeder mirrored its rider. Scarred, broken, and struggling.
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Present, Battle of Muunilist in full swing…
Explosions sounded outside the heavy dropship, like distant thunder, just not so distant. The dropship's dense hull, explicitly crafted to endure heavy fire and deliver forces to the ground during any assault, was their best defense. Ryv found himself thankful for the foresight in the New Imperial Order's preparation. This plan relied on more than just surprise and sound piloting, but a lot of luck on the Imperial's side once the dropship opened and began raining their forces from above. Many of Ryv's riders knew the same thing, which made the wait both silent and stressful. The Jedi Knight could feel the tensions in the room as quickly as he could feel the cold air that swirled around them. As a natural empath, picking up the emotions of others came easy for the kiffar. He knew the gathered soldiers needed something beyond the mission briefing. They needed hope. Ryv took to his speeder and pushed it towards the closed blast door lining one side of the hull. Without saying anything, the Sword of the Jedi climbed atop the bike, opting not to fit the helmet offered to him atop his head. Instead, he took up the Blade of Ruusan and twirled it within one hand. Its calming aura radiated off of Ryv, encasing those nearest to him.
"When the time comes, I'm out first," Ryv's voice echoed throughout the hangar. While it likely didn't reach everyone, it found those closest to him. Some sat up straighter beneath the dual effect of the lightsaber and its wielder. Since returning to the Jedi Order, Ryv has managed to stand out among the many who called Peace home. It wasn't fancy blade work with a lightsaber or ageless wisdom found in other Jedi, but his willingness to get his hands dirty. Weeks went into rebuilding the station and preparing it to one day house hundreds of his kind. On Kintan, the Jedi, then a Padawan, refused to abandon those trapped behind enemy lines, going so far as to take on the likes of Hailyn Hailyn in what many would've considered a deadly encounter. Time and time again, Ryv stood stalwart in his quest to pierce the shadows and stand as a beacon meant to illuminate the galaxy, even at the risk of his own life.
An alarm blared to life, notifying the gathered soldiers of the impending moment. Hours at wait culminated to this final instant at rest, the moment before each of them would race headlong into a battlefield meant to swallow them whole and spit them back out, beaten and broken. Ryv looked back at the men and women under his command and smiled. In the face of danger, neither the Galactic Alliance or the New Imperial Order would bend. It would be the Sith who found themselves battered by the end of the day. The Jedi Knight held that sentiment close to his chest, nurturing the belief through his connection with the force.
"We're approaching the dropzone, Commander Karis! Doors are opening in two minutes! Last-minute prep time!"
Ryv looked to the doors, steeling himself. The seconds ticked by, seeming to stretch on forever. That is until forever ended. Without another warning, the durasteel screeched open, revealing a battlefield as he'd never seen before. From on high, Ryv could see starfighters zipping past him, engaging the opposing forces with reckless abandon. Ally and enemy fire lost all sense as they shot off in every direction. Explosions rocked the sky, sending powerful waves of pressure into the dropship. While the heavy assault vehicle seemed entirely unphased by the showing, Ryv could feel his armor and hair blown back from the force, his muscles straining to keep him atop the speeder in the face of such chaos. With a deep breath, he pushed forward, lifted his weapon, and activated the Blade of Ruusan.
"On me!" Ryv's voice boomed from his chest, amplified by duty to both his men and the galaxy beyond. The cyan lightsaber acted as a momentary beacon, drawing the attention of the pilots directly behind him as the speeder dove towards the planet's surface. The Sword of the Jedi returned the lightsaber hilt to his side after a few seconds, and took the controls in both hands. Not meant for such a sharp drop, he could feel the speeder shaking beneath him as he attempted to guide it through the fierce battle within the skies. He veered to the side, narrowly avoiding a starfighter spiraling directly towards him, only to hear an explosion behind him. Unable to take his eyes off of their target, Ryv sent out a silent farewell to whoever they'd lost in their race towards war.
Acting quickly, Ryv pulled back on the clutch and slowed down his descent, directing himself towards the earth beneath him. He could feel the entire speeder shake once more, this time fighting against itself as its pilot led them both at near-impossible angles. Fortunately, Ryv won out, managing to avoid smashing into the surface, only to face the opposing force's outer defenses.
"Alright, boys," the Jedi Knight reached down, unhooking a durasteel lance from the side of the speeder. The beskar tip gleaned in the sun, likely visible for hundreds of paces all around. "Come get some," he lowered the lance and raced towards the Sith-Imperial entrenchment.
 
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// IMPERATOR // 1st ‘Punished’ Stormtrooper Legion
// OBJECTIVE // Harnaidan
// THEMATIC // Invincible
// NIO //
FN-999 | Belisarius Belisarius | Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt | Sturit Goan Sturit Goan
// TSE // Cara Dorniarn Cara Dorniarn | Mazrim Caide/Taim Mazrim Caide/Taim | Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex

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Several hours before
Enroute to Muunilinst

There was no masquerading the stakes in this moment. Shouldering the burden of command here, Irveric had isolated himself. For the Sovereign Imperator this was a war of liberation and identity second and a crusade of penance first. Too many sleepless nights and horrid visions wracked his subconsciousness. Each brief moment of reprieve in silence he heard the collective suffering of those he put to the sword on Kintan, every time he closed his eyes he saw the plight of his brothers on Mandalore.

In this insular hell, Irveric only saw one means of escape. The voices of the damn rung out through his mind akin to curse so he saw it. He either would do right by them and enact retribution on the very Empire he’d spent two decades in a deep bow willingly slaving himself to or he would corrode from within until the dauntless revenants of his past drove him to insanity.

Nevertheless, he would not concede any restraint in this crusade. He’d been content to die in this fight since its very conception. To do right by his brothers and sisters still living to free their loved ones from the boot heel of the Sith and to do right by the ghosts of his past by sealing the voices away in peace. A futile effort but even so one done in personal vindication.

However as the drums of war beat ever louder, he’d cracked a schism between himself and those closest to him. Whoever remained of his personal ties at least. It's not culminated in anyone other than Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt . She was his longest serving confidant and easily the person he was ever content to lower his guard around. A mutual care and trust had been tempered over decades of corresponding bloodshed. She couldn’t bear to see the path he’d taken and he’d not tolerate her walking it alongside him.

He wanted far better for her than the penance he’d relegated himself to. The fruits of this fight, of this struggle would be for her and the rest of the Order to revel in. He was more than sure enough he’d be buried alongside his brothers-in-arms and his mortal ashes abandoned to the winds of time before he’d ever see triumph.

That fear of death had long been crucified from years of martial servitude. All of the planning had been done and all the pieces set in their place for this assault. Even still - meeting on even ground the Imperator assembled the bulk of the Stormtrooper Corps present aboard the Dissident Aggressor.

“We’re at a decisive moment. You’ve all seen the numbers and had the briefings. You know the odds we’re up against. You know that this will be no easy fight and the Sith will offer no quarter to us on the field. And that’s why I believe in every single one of you to do what needs to be done. I look at you all...brothers, sisters...soldiers. I don’t need to ask anything of you because you already know what your duty demands.” Irveric says, facing the Legion with a naked gaze as he peers into the blackened eye slits of their helmets, pacing the front rank slowly as he appraises the fighting force, mulling over his next thoughts before he speaks up again.

“It’s difficult to put into words how much I respect you. All of you. You know what’s at risk, what’s at stake and you’re here. If we make any statement in the coming battle...it’s that you’re not afraid. None of you are.” Irveric said, stopping in place as he nodded his head once. He’d been there, afraid. That residual fear was a heavy burden upon all those who served the Sith. To serve or be smited. Irveric had conquered it long ago but even so, that was clearly no great feat as he stared down the helmets of men and women who’d all done the very same.

“Even so- you will not go alone. I will be with you all to the end.” Irveric says, stating a promise he would make due before he stood at attention and saluted his fellow soldiers only to receive the same gesture in return. For all for his frigid exterior he regarded his troopers in open candidness. He would not level any

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Zero Hour
Harnaidan

Under the cover of the combined forces of the New Imperial Order and Galactic Alliance, the assault began. With the planetary shields breached enough to allow for Inceptus-class Assault ships and dropships to swarm the surface and surround the city. Under bruising opposition, heavier armor and infantry approached with the backing of contested air support and artillery.

With several breaches making way for small breakthroughs into the streets of Harnaidan, the vast majority of the encroaching New Imperials were still on a dogged approach.

The flat grasses on the approach to the Muun city were stained in blood and littered with the charred black corpses and scrap heaps of the New Imperial advance. Short minutes into the fight, casualties were mounting on the perilous advance. Even so - the collective will of the storm was not so easily broken.

Awaiting the next wave of troops to begin a neck breaking offensive into the city, artillery batteries fired in a symphony of death in line with the metallic clatter of the heavy walkers on their trudging approach.

<”Ah! Agh! I can’t- I can’t! Aaaagh! Fuck! Help me!”> Sounded out the blood curdling scream of the caught underneath a hunk of warped and deformed metals that once served as the interior skeleton to the knocked out command vehicle. With shrapnel scraping into the fortified plate of his armor the Imperator ripped the man from place to another symphony screams. Nigh falling on deaf ears in the heat of battle.

The ringing was all but numbed in Irveric’s senses. Mass driver rounds cracking nearby, blaster bolts and flechettes each and all served to create a horrific orchestra in his senses as they tapped past the inbuilt aural dampeners.

<“Fuck- fuck! No! No no no!”> The trooper let off, grasping at the stubbed knee where his leg once was. In a cry of agony those pleads soon turned to tear drenched cries of hopelessness. All the while Irveric wrenched him behind cover serving in the form of a bombed out Muun hovel. He did nothing to offer reassurances or quiet the man. So long as he was screaming he was living- the young man didn’t need to worry about anything else right now.

<“20cc Bacta! Now!”> A medic cried out as he slid past shattered stone to tend to the trooper. With the rest of the stormtroopers pulled from the wreckage falling in with Tavlar the off-white betaplast had quickly been bathed in ashen black. With narrowed eyes he peered over the armored approach - with formations of infantry scattered between cover leading into the outskirts of the city they couldn’t sit tight too much longer.

<”Belisarius - do you copy. What’s your read?”> Tavlar punched through to the Stormtrooper airborne captain - the XO to the aerial assault into the city. Electing to avoid contacting Voi’kryt directly. Biases in the field of duty aside - he knew the stress of large scale command was never something she’d acclimated to. Ever in the contempt of danger, the Imperator kept an even keel, his voice leveled each time he patched through the comms. The main assault force couldn’t linger in open space for all too much longer sustaining the level of resistance they faced already. Even if the city streets would be no reprieve, they needed to conquer ground.

<”Nines! On me!”> Tavlar barked out through explosive clatter to gather the attention of the Stormtrooper leftenant set nearby. Already stacking up a brutal reputation within the Corps, there weren’t many better names to call on.

<”Get your platoon formed up! Flow in with the armor! Move out!”> Tavlar ordered, ever reluctant to pitch any louder in command the rage of battle demanded it. Lifting up his wrist comms once more he patched through to one of his armored commanders.

<”Feral Actual. I need armor to cover these troopers into the streets entrance south east facing. Move out.”> The Imperator commanded. In the thick of the fight, he operated nigh rhythmically. With a man armored in black not far from his flank - he moved alongside the stormtroopers. The longer the bulk of the force was only allowed a small trickle into the city, the greater chance the Sith would win out the day. Lines need to be broken, emplacements and weapons destroyed and ground gained.
 
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En Route to Munnilist
1 day prior


Meeting up with the fleet and the others were taking longer than expected. Information coming from the battlefields had heavily coded encryptions, especially ones from Muunilist. The Corellian sat in her seat, a hand tapping on a datapad as she had just gotten the notification that another one of her informants had been captured and murdered. Her legs crossed as she sat there in massive frustration, her mind rolling through everything that she had done leading up to this point. They had been careful with short messages, encrypted language, the whole nine yards - yet they still died. As much as their deaths were for a good cause of pushing back the Empire, they had even died a terrible death.

Allyson pinched the bridge of her nose as she stifled a scream. She had promised that they would be safe, that they would see freedom soon. A heaviness weighed in her heart as her eyes scanned the latest report from a Sith informant that had secretly turned away from the dark side. He was able to maintain a false dark side aura through force manipulation, but that could only go so far. As she read through it, she tried to keep her mind calm, and she could feel the emotional waves of another. A hand rested against her chest, over her twin hearts as she did her best to send him calming feelings through their bond. It was the least she could do while separated from him.

Fingers danced across the datapad as she deciphered the encrypted message. Things weren’t looking good, and the informant had to move - he was scared he was found out. Allyson responded by reassuring him and sending him the information for the safehouses set up before the NIO decided to attack. The encrypted message sent, and she deleted any evidence of it. Allyson rested her head in her seat as she closed her eyes and mentally prepared herself for the surface.

The Corellian moved quickly, checking through her equipment. Everything securely transported, and she headed to her temporary bunk. She would be moving at nightfall upon the planet, which was only a few more hours. The life of a Shadow tied to the SIA, her nose wrinkled as she had hoped she would be able to have more time.


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A foot soldier came running in and called for her attention. Allyson stood from her crouch beside the small bunk and nodded. “Everything in place? The droid?” The young man nodded. Allyson smiled, “Good, I’m glad he was agreeable this time.” They both laughed, “He did complain quite a bit and said he might ‘miss.’” The imperial accent lingered in the air, and Allyson shrugged. “Thank you, Miles.”

A salute, “Anytime Ms. Allyson.” He finished and left the room, leaving the Corellian to her thoughts. As much as she wanted to sleep, she decided not to and went on a walk to calm her mind. Seeing everyone preparing helped ease her mind, her work was important - her work is what would keep them all alive. Her eyes settled on one Jedi, and his dark hair moved with his actions as he spoke to the others. He was a natural leader, and even though she could feel his nerves and stress - Allyson knew the others were in capable hands. If she were caught staring, she would just smile and then return to preparing her equipment.

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Current Time
Location: Safehouse, Harnidan City
Equipment: In Signature
Allies: NIO Wyatt Morga Wyatt Morga
Enemies: TSE Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex

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“What do you mean?!” The Corellian whispered in a harsh tone as she stood face to face with the informant. The Sith had been held up in the safe house for a little, and he was freaking out. The pale-skinned Muun looked at the Corellian, his eyes spoke of his oncoming mental breakdown. He had sacrificed so much to help Allyson, and she knew that. “They know! They know! I saw it in a vision! I saw the Emperor!” Allyson shook her head and tried to wave off the freakout. “Solas! You and I both know reports have sighted him on Mygeeto.” Allyson pulled out her datapad and began to work, tying all the uplinks she had installed to a network. The network would give the units behind her vision of the city, especially the hidden locations she had run reconnaissance on previous to the war. She continued to work, and she could feel the pacing Sith Lord behind her.

“Lucky, the Sith, we can feel these things. I can feel his eyes burrowing into me. You don’t know the Emperor as we do!” At this notion, Allyson stopped working. She turned and faced the Sith and shook her head. “I know exactly how terrible he can be. I have enough nightmares of that man’s face. Just please gather your things we need to move.” She had known better than to dismiss force visions, even if they couldn’t be right - she needed to put some weight on them.

When the datapad showed the uplink was loading, she quickly buried the parts and hid the tablet. Allyson knew she should have stayed in the small housing unit to make sure that it was uploaded, but something told her she needed to get moving. Looking at Solas, she nodded. “Let’s go. Come on.” She grabbed her bag and slung it over her back, and proceeded to leave the establishment.
 
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Amur

Guest
A
Post: 1
Location: Mygeeto, Southern Mesas
Faction Objective: 1
Allies: TBD
Enemies: TBD
Gear: Listed in Character Bio along with Two Durasteel climbing axes affixed to belt. Boots have been replaced with spiked boots from Alpine Legionnaire Armor
Theme
Immediate Objective: Survive


The winds howled in their overwhelming attempt to snuff out the battle as the Sith had to brace herself on the bridge to prevent herself from being tossed to and fro, especially when the air was filled with crimson, emerald and azure blaster fire blindly trying to seek out another death to be claimed for this appalling battle. It had been days of nonstop fighting as the pressure of the Imperial vice was being clamped harder and harder on the Loyalist forces. Days of restlessness as most troopers were too busy trying to fend for their lives or avoid succumbing to the seductive whims of the freezing cold to worry about sleep. It was hell for this band of outnumbered battling bastards but yet they continued on. The Imperials failing to seize a decisive action in the battle and a hope that had infected many of the legionnaires, a hope built upon a promise: The Cavalry was coming, and all they had to do was hold out for a little longer…

Amur had her doubts about whether or not that hope would be fulfilled but she didn’t dare show it, right now a Sith like her was a pillar of morale and force multiplier, if she showed her doubts it would just kill their spirits. She gritted her teeth to stop them from a chattering away in the cold. She had forgone the Alpine armor in favor of her current suit even if at this altitude and weather the suits climate controls and temperature regulating systems were being overwhelmed. Truth was she didn’t mind the cold, she always had the force to warm her and she had survived much worse, even if barely. Besides the Legionnaires needed someone they could look to that could boost their confidence and a Sith with her cape billowing in the wind, lightsaber ignited, all while looking completely unabated by the harsh conditions was just the sight needed.

Bridge one had normally been a suicide run to try and cross resulting in both sides sitting it out at both ends having an intense staring battle sprinkled with moments of intense ferocious fighting. In the depths of the current Frost cyclone though, hell was being hammered on sensors and the mark one eyeball leading to an abundance of visual cover. A prime opportunity was seen to mount a quick counter attack to route their defense and upset their hold. Amur was part of that attacking wave. The plan was simple and brutish but elegant in its own right. Using large scavenged heavy industry shipping crates as a means of both portable cover and a mask from thermal sensors they would push it forward to cover their assault till they were within 50 meters and then unleash a barrage of portable rockets, force attacks and suppressing fire.
Amur had been sticking close to the crate steadily making progress towards the other side, or at least she thought, she could only see out at most five meters in this blasted blizzard unable to fully gauge progress and just focusing on each step as she focused on harnessing the force to move this bloody thing. It was straining but the price of failure hung over her with a bill she refused to pay. Still during that charge Murphy’s law would plague their attempts. The attacking force would stop as sounds suddenly emerged overhead of distant thunder. Some got their hopes up that it was the relief fleet, others worried it was even more imperial bodies to have to deal with and others were just simply dumbfounded. For Amur the Force answered with something she now dreaded as she could feel her stomach drop. She couldn’t help but stop to look up and with it she tried to reach out with Force sense to see if she could make out what the hell was causing all that death she felt. With it she could hear the sound of groaning metal, and quickly a series of objects, massive ones were falling like a meteor shower.

Impacts were heard and with it the dreadful realization that it was happening all around them as even the soldiers not aided by the force could hear it now, though the wind would distort and lie about the exact placement. Suddenly a sixth sense ignited in the Sith telling her to run. ”Retreat!” She would bellow to the surrounding men and women of the unit as she ushered in a sprint though it would be too late. A massive landing ship would fade into view careening towards the bridge in a blaze of fire and maelstrom as it slammed into the bridge and tore a massive hole a few hundred meters ahead. The impact caused the bridge to buckle and for a section to start coiling up acting as a springboard that launched several of the men into the air. The Sith wouldn’t be spared from the forced bout of flight as she would be propelled clear off the bridge into a sea of white.

Flying blind in the air she would call upon the force for a direction not ready to accept death. A few seconds of panic, fear and strife would lead to a moment of serenity as she felt something in her gut give her guidance. Blindly firing her wrist mounted grappling hook into the white void she would wait with her breath held waiting to see if it would make purchase with something solid. There was nothing until suddenly her left arm felt like it was ready to be torn from her socket as the rope grew taught. Now finding her body recoiling and swinging, she would be propelled towards the unknown, until a mountainside came into view only a few seconds before impact. The Sith would brace herself before slamming into the side of the mountain thermal gel in her suit thankfully absorbing most of the impact but it still left Amur with the wind knocked out of her.

Heavy breathing being the only sound that occupied Amur as she tried to get a bearing on what the hell just happened, and where she was as she hanged there dangling from her grappling hook. Except she wouldn’t be allowed peace for too long as once again she felt danger creep up her spine and she sensed something through the Force. Quickly Amur activated the grappling hook's motor to carry her upwards with as much speed as it could muster, unsure of what was coming until she saw another massive ship crash into the mountainside just below her where she once was. Though her dance by death’s door wouldn’t end as she suddenly felt her stomach begin to wildly twirl and dance due to a sense of weightlessness, the impact having dislodged her grappling hook and she began to fall once more.

[OOC: Bridge One while damaged is still standing, albeit structurally compromised in the space where the impact took place, caution is advised. Also if you're still looking for a dancing partner or want to jump in feel free to shoot me a message or just join]
 
Imperial Warlord of the Redoubt Governorate

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POST 1
//MYGEETO //Objective 1: Battle in the Frost Cyclone // Sith Imperial Banking Clan Vaults At Southern Mesas//
//Location:// NIO Imperial Force Corps Encampment Mesas Tower A, Southern Mesas Towers, Mygeeto//
//Action:// Assaulting No Man's Land Bridge One, Assault on Sith Defensive Positions [See Full Action Summary at End of Post] //
//Allies-in-Vicinity://
Sor-Jan Xantha Sor-Jan Xantha , Jekadius Lawson Jekadius Lawson , Cameron Farwell //
//Enemy RP Partner://
Taeli Raaf Taeli Raaf
//Accompaniment:// Imperial Force Corps Knights Battlegroup Aegis// LINK TO KNIGHTS BATTLEGROUP ORBAT [x]
//Equipment:// [
LINK] //


[Flashback - Weeks Prior]
Nirauan System Space
First New Imperial Crusader Fleet [Imperial Force Corps Base Fleet]

Aboard the Invictus-Class Battlecruiser the Nobilissimus

Pant. Pant. Pant.

Her breathing was low, purposely elongated and dragged out. Each breath contorted her throat in a taught tense clench as she exhaled the physical pain and soreness of her muscles. Her eyes were closed and her lips pressed together in a firm flatline, while the entirety of her head hung down pointing at her lap. The dark locks of her hair dangled over her face in a black curtain that was sodden with sweat, making the strands clump together in ragged daggers. Beads of perspiration wept from her brow and trickle down to her gold armored chin before plummeting onto dark durasteel tiles, leaving a pattern of speckled blotches in the gap between her folded legs.

Pant...Pant...Pant.

The breathing was slower now, artificially reduced by the powers of the Force that High Knight Marshal Zovesa conjured within her. The pervasive and invisible power wrapped itself around her lungs and heart, dulling their busy work and swaddling the Chiss in an almost stasis like trance. Her heavy breathing nearly subsided, the once loud pounding of blood pumping that echoed in her ears faded, and heaving exhales of her nostrils became silent slithers of air. Zovesa had entombed herself in a Force guided state of Meditation of Emptiness, coupled with a dangerous method of healing the mind and body by slowing its bodily functions to a near halt, a Force Hibernative Trance.

In that still moment, Zovesa began a different practice session. Unlike the Combat Practice Droids laid strewn about her personal dojo, her opponent was the dark things that lurked in the corners of her mind. Suppressed emotions and moments of rage and terror, back when she was pressed into the Sith Academy as an enslaved Acolyte to their Sith Masters. Weaponized for their use and savagely reprimanded in failure. But, Zovesa’s crime was worse, rebellion. The Sith Masters had offered their power, and repulsed by it, she rejected it. She was punished.

Her jaw, throat, and an arm were sacrificed in order for Zovesa to survive that punishment. Ever since then she had vowed to crush the darkness that tried to consume her, tried to mold her into one of them. But, yet she struggled. Center. She had to find her center. The Imperial Force Corps she had founded were built on this concept of Center, a Center devoid of dogma and monastic obligations. A Center austere void of singular purpose. In this hibernation, Zovesa found that center. But, felt something else. An intruder. She opened her eyes and the Chiss red irises focused on a Miralukan that had entered.

He was dressed in a white robe and veil over a white Imperial tunic. His dress was a contradicting combination of Imperial austere uniform and the religious garb of someone from the ancient remnants of the Guardian of the Whills. He approached Zovesa and crouched before her, kneeling to sit cross-legged with her. Zovesa greeted the Arch Asklepior, Chief Doctor of the Force Medics of the Force Corps Knights, with a motionless stare.

“What did I say about your clandestine empathomancy, Kalassa,” Zovesa growled.

Dr. Kalassa smiled and tapped the black steel visor that covered his empty Miralukan eye sockets.

“I see when even I do not want to, Marshal,” Kalassa replied.

“What do you want?” Zovesa said.

“To ease my worry,” Kalassa said, reaching out with his white gloved hands to rest them where Zovesa’s were clasped around her knees.

Zovesa felt Kalassa’s warmth, the warmth that came from his super empathic powers. As the Arch Asklepior he taught the Force Nurses and the Force Hospitaller’s, the Nurses’ combat sisters, the ways of healing the mind, soul, and body with the Force. He was a mysterious master of using the Force to peer into people and mend what broke them. In Zovesa, he saw two visages in the Force. The stalwart High Knight Marshal that dared not break her facade of stoney determination for the sake of being a bulwark of the New Imperial Order. The other was harder to see, it's image blurred and barely glimpsed. It was of a frightened young woman, much younger than Zovesa is now. A young woman, who creeps in the depths of the soul hiding from the darkness and weeping tears no one else will see.

Kalassa shook his head and pulled his hands away, “You can’t smother her forever.”

“Don’t lecture me Kalassa,”
Zovesa hissed back.

“Emotions need to be exposed. Especially trauma,” Kalassa said. “Like any wound, if the bandages are too tight and the flesh covered too long, it’ll fester in the damp darkness...and kill the patient.”

“You don’t have to be an iron maiden all the time, this kind of affliction will not go away until it is confronted.”


“If I don’t keep it held, it will end me,”
Zovesa retorted. “I will kill it in the darkness. And it will vanish from me. I just need to focus.”

“You won’t and it will kill you,”
Kalassa warned. “Darkness cannot be smothered, it can only be faded by light, let it meet the light.”

Zovesa smashed her fist into the durasteel tiles between them. The Force that had guided her meditation snapped it her fist, denting the tile, as her voice boomed in a thunderous clap.

“Enough!” She howled at Kalassa.

“Leave, now.”

Kalassa sighed, and cupped Zovesa’s fist. It was shaking, betraying the threatening power it had previously emanated.

“You cannot run from this. You will face it sooner than later. Especially when we face the Sith in battle. In that time you will face not only their evil but your own. Why double the foes you must face Zovesa?” Kalassa pleaded.

Zovesa’s lips bent and twisted and she almost added tears to the droplets of sweat that were shaken from her face.

“I...can’t,” she confessed.

Kalassa smiled, “There are those who can place your trust in them. Marshal. Those you have dived into the abyss and swam back.”

“Like the Lord Executor?”
Zovesa picked up on the reference. It wasn’t the first time he had recommended her to seek out his consul. ( Vaulkhar Vaulkhar )

“Perhaps,” Kalassa said coyly.

“Trust in those that have consumed and survived that which you fear. That is your duty, to face what you fear the most.”

[Presently]
Imperial Force Corps Encampment

Mesas Tower A (Aurek)
New Imperial Army Mygeeto (NIMYG)

Southern Mesas, Mygeeto
Kalassa’s words orchestrated long drawn out visions that unfolded in the imaginary sight of Zovesa’s meditating mind. Displayed on the backs of her close eyelids, his nostalgic image repeated his words back to Zovesa. “That is your duty, to face what you fear the most.” What she fears the most. The Sith did not make her fear, she knew them well. But, she knew them too well. She once almost became them. That is what she feared. Even now it bothered her. “Trust in those that have consumed and survived that which you fear,” his words echoed once more. “Zovesa. Trust him. Trust him,” the echoes reverberated.

“Zovesa.”

“Zovesa!”


The last echo was loud and had a sudden reality to its vocalization. High Knight Marshal snapped from her trance, jolting in a shivering flinch. Shocked back into the real world, Zovesa looked up hurriedly to see that the echo had come from Lieutenant Colonel Riktor Dreggs. The Commander of the Aegis Knights Battlegroup 4th Heavy Assault Regiment. He was staring down his old war-sister with a confused and worried look. The two had been together for years. Ever since they were both Sith Imperial Legionnaire conscripts. Dreggs rested his hand on Zovesa’s shoulder and gave her a slow shake.

“You alright?” Dreggs said, “You look out of it.”

Zovesa blinked slowly a couple of times and batted Dreggs’ arm away. “I’m alright, was just lost in thought.”

Dreggs nodded sarcastically and replied suspiciously, “Uh-huh.” He wiggled his fingers at Zovesa, gesturing the motion of an over exaggerated Force push, “Doing your Knightly magic?”

“Meditating, Lieutenant Colonel,”
Zovesa hissed back, “Now report.”

Dreggs shrugged and shook his head. Bracing against the wall he took a tired seat beside Zovesa. He dropped onto a makeshift bench of supply crates with a tarp draped over it. He slumped backwards and rested the back of his head against the durasteel walls of the Mesas Tower midsection lobby space, now converted into the Force Corps HQ Encampment.

“It got worse,” he said. “Before, we could barely see down Bridge One. Now we can’t even see the schitting bridge. It’s a complete white out.”

“Winds are worse. They’re pounding so hard even the repulsorcraft are finding it rough to stabilize.”


The Chiss said nothing and only listened, absorbing the details, calculating and recalculating. The frost cyclone had blown in suddenly overnight. It smothered the entire Southern Mesas in gale force winds, thick blizzard snowfall and a blinding blanket of heavy clouds. Visibility had dropped from several meters, to a handful, then to nothing. The Sith occupied Mesas Towers across the main bridges of combat were gone by dawn and by the afternoon the bridges themselves became a uniform opaque wall of wind and snow.

It was only thanks to periodic scouting raids down Bridges One and Two, the no-man’s land between the two forces, and probe droid deployments that they had any readings on the enemy. In the meantime, the siege continued. For a month or so now. They had been entrenched in the foothold they had gained in the initial landings and offensives across the Southern Mesas. Force Corps had taken control of a ring of Mesas Towers and their bridges in the advance towards the Sith Intergalactic Banking Clan Vault Towers (SIBC-VT). While other NIO Forces had established control over other Mesas Tower complexes. Now all that was left was the two networks of bridges, One and Two. Although a modestly kilometers long stretch of bridges. After a long siege, it felt like a lightyear between them.

Zovesa eyed the rest of the encampment in the lobby space as Dreggs continued to curse the weather and the Sith. Imperial Force Corps Knights and their Auxilia Trooper accompaniment were huddled by heaters powered by Gonk droids hooked to them through a cluster of large wiring. Supply crates lined the walls and were bunched together to form benches and rest areas. Communications arrays dotted the cavernous space in islands of cylindrical holo-projector modules holding court with the Gonk and Mouse Droids that powered and maintained them. The entire space had the air of crypt. The only sounds were the ambient blips and whistles of droids, hushed chatter of soldiers and the oppressive howling roars of the storm winds outside. With all of them swaddled in thermal insulated blankets, they might as well be mummies slumbering in their besieging tombs.

But the push was coming. And soon. Zovesa hoped it would be the last one. The siege had lost its momentum and the narrow bottlenecks of the bridges were proving deadly chokepoints. The signal would come from War Master Kor Vexen in tandem with an airborne gunship assault, deployed by Inceptus Assault Ships who were due to arrive through the atmosphere. They had to be ready. They had to rally. Or they would break. It was the duty of the Imperial Force Corps and their Auxilia to be the vanguard force that would break Sith defensive positions so the gunships could execute airborne assaults. They had to move. But, the waiting had dulled their edge. It worried Zovesa.

Still looking around, Zovesa caught sight of a communications alert blinking in the holo-projector module before her. ‘Finally’, her mind gasped with relief. Zovesa pressed her palms down on her knees and stood up, as she did she threw off the heavy blanket around herself. Dreggs leaned forward eyeing her rise, the last sentence of his complaining report dangling from his lips and tumbled into a silent death.

“Open that channel alert,” said Zovessa, flicking a pointed finger at a comms-officer sitting beside a holo-projector module cupping his tin cup and kaff.

The officer laboriously rose to attention and swiveled around to press some commands into the touchpad array mounted to the sill slopes of the module. A blue haze disgorged from the projector ballooning into a static and storm obstructed holographic visage of a naval officer.

“This is Deliverance to Azure Queen,” said the naval officer, “Do you copy?”

Zovesa nodded and approached the module, placing her hands down on the edges of its sloped sills and leaned closer.

“Copy, this is Azure Queen,” Zovesa said. “You have an ETA for me?”

“We’ll be dead over you within the half-hour. I also have a message from the War Master,”
the naval officer’s rippling and crackling voice barely replied. ( Darth Bellum Darth Bellum )

“Aurek. Aurek. Aurek.”

The coded command made everyone in the encampment freeze. Dreggs rose up sharply and rushed forward standing right beside a silent Zovesa. Aurek. Aurek. Aurek. An aurebesh NIO coded command which when translated had a simple meaning - Attack. Attack. Attack. It was a devastating order for a full offensive assault. No holding back, committing all forces. All means. All personnel. Zovesa didn’t know whether the War Master was supremely confident in his strategy or the siege had made them desperate. But, such an order was never to be taken lightly. A charge could break a siege or it could break their army.

“We’ll be dropping gunships soon Marshal,” the naval officer concluded, “Goodluck.”

The visage dissolved away and the bright blue retreated back into the module, leaving Zovesa shadowed by the dim light within the encampment. Zovesa straightened her back and left the module to march towards the exit of the encampment, Dreggs followed closely behind. He watched her scan the blizzard and the barely noticeable long promenade of the bridges before them.

“What’s the call Marshal?” Dreggs asked.

“You heard the War Master,” Zovesa grimmly replied.

“Fire up the Homing Beacons for the Gunships to follow,” Zovesa continued, “And contact the Knights Battlegroups and give them their orders.”

“Aurek. Aurek. Aurek.”


Dreggs didn’t need to give his reply, that was all he needed. He rushed to bark commands at the comms officers at the other modules. Howling at them to begin relying orders to the other Imperial Force Corps - Victrix, Ballistar and Praeventors. As well as the other NIO infantry forces. They would launch out in a frontal charge to break room for the gunships to make their way to land. Zovesa turned on her heel and looked at her equipment, placing her weapons and rifle energy caps into the combat vest strapped to her Force Corps Knight white armor.

AltC4Vm.png
Along with her lightsaber, nestling it to the shoulder mounted pouch on her vest. Around her stormtroopers engaged in their pre-battle rituals, busily checking their weaponry, their gear and bantering about finally moving or silently praying that the charge would be their salvation. Zovesa, despite her icey disposition, heard and saw it all. She was always watching over her men and she knew what she was about to send them into. They would be like a wave crashing into a shore. The resistance would be harsh. Even with the zero visibility assisting their advance, once the Sith noticed their assault they would stop at nothing to end it. The Sith didn’t care much for their soldiers. Their soldiers were shields and bulwark. It’s easy to defend a position when you can disregard the lives that absorb the fire with their bodies.

Zovesa finished her prep and strode out of the encampment. She was met with ferocious gales. The wind was sharp, relentless, and bitterly cold. It felt like a thousand vibroblades slashing micro-lacerations across her cheeks, nose, and lips. The snow pelted her face so much she had to place her helmet on so that she could see. The frost cyclone was just a threat as much as the Sith now. Reaching redoubt that had been constructed in the open plaza semi-sphere platform that led to Bridge One, Zovesa hailed the armored regiment that guarded. Lined up was a Turbo Tank team along with flanking Cataphract Tanks.

“Osk-Mern!” Zovesa yelled at them, while slapping the hulls of their armored craft. “Osk-Mern let’s go!” The tank crews rushed into their units, and activated their engines, weapons systems and scanners. Meanwhile the Auxilia Troopers of Zovesa’s own Knights Battlegroup Aegis, moved to her position. Heavy Gunner Troopers, carrying Reaper Chainblasters, as well as Shield Troopers outfitted with heavy Blastshields flanked them with other Auxilia Troopers following behind led by Force Corps Knights. As they filled in behind her Zovesa walked among them carrying out battle orders.

“Task Pattern Reek,” Zovesa said while pointing to her men, “Turbo and Cataphracts take lead, I want fire teams in two column low profiles following tightly behind. Shieldbearers and chainblasters on the outermost flanks and Squad Shield runners in the center. Each column should have a few Knights as Force Cover. We keep it at rolling fire alright? Tanks pummel, we follow and cut down what’s left."

“Understood?”


“Copy Ma’am!
” the commanders of the various Aegis Regiments replied.

“Good, go!” Zovesa said.

Zovesa moved into her own column behind the Turbo Tank who’s entire craft hummed with the pulsing echoes of the tank’s Pressor Field Generators. There in her column, she addressed the Knights with her ( Jekadius Lawson Jekadius Lawson & Sor-Jan Xantha Sor-Jan Xantha ). “This is. Remember you are Knights. You protect the men and lead the charge. Do not falter. Have no fear. May the Force be with you all.”

Over her internal HUD comms, Zovesa gave the order. One every bridge that made up the stacking network of bridges of Bridge One and Two, all Imperial Force Corps Knights Battlegroups began their advance. Using the latest data from probe droid recon, they gunners in the thanks angled the long barrels of their armored attack crafts and awaited the command to fire. As they passed the safety of the redoubts, and moved into the bridges proper they began to pass the bent, warped and scorched remains of countless other offensives. It was a graveyard of debris, shrapnel, and smoldering metal carcasses that polluted their advance. Getting closer and closer down the bridge, Zovesa gave the order.

The barbette mounted particle cannons of the Turbo Tank and the MegaCaliber Six turbolaser cannon of the flanking Cataphracts blasted their volleys forward. Their flying arcs of fury briefly illuminated their paths across the blizzard as they slammed into the Sith defensive positions across the bridge in the opposite towers. Each flash of bombardment dyed the snow in bright hot halos of color, giving short clear glimpses of the other side. The only confirmations of their shot landing was the distant rumbling thunder of explosions and blooming flowers of fire ahead.

The final charge had begun. Now they would fight bitterly for the gunships to land.

//COMBAT ACTION SUMMARY:// PLEASE READ POST BEFORE READING SUMMARY //
Imperial Force Corps Knights Battlegroup have begun assault across the unlclaimed bridge's between NIO and Sith positions; i.e. No Man's Land Bridge Networks, labelled Bridge One and Two
Zovesa and Knights Battlegroup Aegis advance across initial sections of No Man's Land Bridge One, with tanks screening advancing trooper contingents
Tanks have opened fire on defenses across the bridge
Inceptus Assault Ships inbound to deploy gunships



 
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Mygeeto_Inv_Banner_1.png

Location: SIBC Vault Tower, Southern Mesa, Mygeeto
Objective: Battle in the Frost Cyclone
Kit: Skystas Rieve iv Tave Daboti Dvasi | SI-HB-2 Power Mace w/ AvXRD Melee Weapon Assist | SIF-57 Personal Sidearm | Sith-Imperial Military Uniform
Allies: Madelyn Lowe Madelyn Lowe | Darth Argentum Darth Argentum | TSE
Enemies: Gat Tambor Gat Tambor | Avernus Avernus | NIO
Post: I


Moff Aerarii Tithe stepped out of the sanisteam and quickly reached for his uniform, intend on getting attired before the frigid cold set back in. Shivering, he threw on the gaberwool tunic and trousers and clipped into place the betaplast chest piece. Wear marks on his tunic showed where the protective cuirass had chaffed against him. The career bureaucrat had once found the heavy armour plate uncomfortable, but had grown accustomed to wearing it over the last few weeks. He only removed it to sleep or use the refresher.

Aerarii wiped the condensation from the smaller refreshers mirror and began to shave, his warm breath fogging the mirror back up every few minutes. All non-essential power had been cut to this area of the Sith-Imperial Banking Clan vault complex, including heating, to devote more power to the defensive grid. As he shaved Tithe could see the telltale signs of exhausting which had slowly developed during the week long siege. His skin was beginning to lose its natural glow as bags formed under his eyes. His shoulders were slumped in defeat from a lack of sleep and his lower back ached. He let out a sigh. How much longer would this go on?

He finished up in the refresher, and just as he was about to step outside he paused. Backing up a few steps he reached down and retrieved a weapons belt from the floor of the refresher and clipped it around his waist. On standing orders from Telis Taharin-Zambrano Telis Taharin-Zambrano , the Dark Councillor of the Pyramid of Military Command, all Sith-Imperial personnel were to be armed at all times during the siege. Never in his life had Tithe been required to carry a weapon - he’s famously participated in both the Invasion of Kintan and the Defence of Mandelore unarmed. Carrying a weapon was still yet to become second nature.

Aerarii moved out into the hallway toward the nearest turbolift. As governor of Sector Group II, a chain of loyal world along the the south-western flank of the Sith Empire, he had been charged with preparing Mygeeto and the neighbouring world to fend the invading the New Imperial Order. While preparations had been going to plan, the NIO had launched their campaign much earlier than anticipated, arriving before the final bulwarks could be put in place.

As Tithe moved down the hallway he passed exhausted and bloody Legionnaires, most them sporting bacta patches and missing or damaged armour plates. The fighting out on the frozen tundra had been ferocious, while neither side willing to give an inch. Reports on blue-on-blue fire had been reported from unit due to the ongoing blizzard. Even the advanced optics of their new Legionnaire Alpine Amour could not always penetrate the frosty haze.

The Moff swiped his code cylinder and was assigned a priority turbolift. The carriage shot deep into the heart of the SIBC complex to the most well protected vault where the command centre had been established. He removed his spectacles and rubbed his eyes. Were it not for the constant shelling, the wailing alert sirens, the interruptions for staff officers with more bad news, and the screaming of injured soldiers as they were wheeled past his room to the medbay, he may have actually been able to sleep for more than a few hours. So far he had been able to largely keep himself together, but even the often jovial Tithe had to admit that his stamina was fading fast. He replaced his spectacles and stood up straight as the turbolift came to a halt and the doors slid open, trying to at least put on a show for those around him.

The mood in the command centre was sombre, with exhausted tacticians hunched over consoles and displays, carefully retasking the remaining Imperial Legion forces to hold the defensive line. A projection of a nearby wall listed the active units around the SIBC Vault, with all of them now containing Legionnaires from other units. Entire companies had been wiped out during the protracted battle, with the survivors shuffled off to fill the gaps in other formations. By the end of the battle it would be hard to remember which original units the Legionnaires had belonged to.

“Give it to me, what’s the latest?” Tithe asked as he looked around for a cup of caf. The last secure comm burst from High Command had advised them that reinforcements were on the way, but after being promised additional forces since the day the battle had begun, people were starting to lose hope. A dull thud reverberated through the walls of the command centre despite its subterranean location, reminding everyone of the threat that lay just beyond their defensive perimeters.
 
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Grand Moff Madelyn Lowe
Location: SIBC Headquarters (SIBC-VT), TOWER B, Southern Mesas, Mygeeto
Allies: TSE - Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe | Obinmiux R'avfa Obinmiux R'avfa | Darth Argentum Darth Argentum | @Open to all
Enemies: NIO - Imperial Warlord Zovesa Imperial Warlord Zovesa | Gat Tambor Gat Tambor | Avernus Avernus | @Open to all
Objective: Establish contact with GABXT sector command, repel the attack.


The SIBC Vault Towers had seen better days. Various pieces of wreckage dotted the once spotless courtyards. Twisted metal, melted plasteel and shards of broken glass littered the ground, and beyond the thirteenth floor, the complex's second tower simply ceased-to-be, having fallen in a cascade of tumbling rubble days before. Inside this shell of a building, Sith-Imperial Grand Moff of Oversector I, Madelyn Lowe, picked her way through the structure's bombed-out interior.

Minutes before, she had taken the turbolift ride from the vaults below and stepped out into the wreckage, stepping out onto the surface and relishing the feeling of fresh, cold air on her skin before she felt its bite. Ahead of her, a dozen Legionnaires scouted the way, their boots sending clods of masonry skittering across the lobby's filthy marble flooring. A vile wind was stirring, howling through the jagged maw that was the lobby's wide front windows. Madelyn wrapped her cloak tighter around herself, her rank pins jangling as she pulled the garment tight.


Yawning, she wiped her eyes, and stepped carefully across the floor, steering herself around the sections of fallen ceiling and drifts of fine ash collecting in crevices and corners. As her guard gave the all-clear, she retrieved her communicator from her pocket, frowning for the briefest moment at her unkempt hair, the bags around beneath her eyes, and her overall haggard expression visible in the reflection of the dead screen. Sighing, she turned it on and scanned the scrolling lines of information.

Moments later, the device buzzed, and Madelyn answered the call, turning her back to shield herself from the wind as the holographic form of a Legion officer appeared before her. She allowed a few moments for the connection to stabilise, then spoke.

"Prefect Harok, good news?"

The figure blurred out of focus and reappeared crouching, his face taut. He called out to her in response, his words tumbling out in rapid succession, anxious and rushed.


"Grand Moff Lowe?- Ma'am, NIMYG is moving, they're using the storm for cover, Patrol Group 5 just hit enemy landers!"

Cursing, Madelyn spun, already hurrying back across the ruined lobby towards the turbolift doors, her guards jogging to follow. As she moved, she became aware of a low rumble and looked into the swirling grey sky outside, stepping back instinctively as the silhouette of a flaming wreck melted out of the gloom, the mass of the Sith-Imperial patrol frigate breaking into pieces as it hurtled to downwards. Above the falling craft, the rest of the skirmish was lost to the storm, but even from here, she could hear the thump, thump, thump of the heavy guns, and the booming report of distant explosions.

Striding back to the safety of the lower floors, Madelyn spat venomous words into her communicator.


"They're making a push. Consolidate your men on bridges 1 and 2. They are not to be allowed across. When possible, make contact with Braxant Command, and route more reinforcements your way. We need more time and some room to manoeuvre."

The Prefect replied tersely, the reality of the coming battle clearly having dawned on him.

"Yes, Grand Moff. We'll hold them as long as we can."

"Longer."

The doors of the turbolift closed behind them, and as they sped downwards into the depths of the Vault complex, Madelyn keyed the communicator once again, this time establishing a link with an ally already sequestered below.

"Moff Tithe," she said evenly once connected. "One of our Armada patrol groups was ambushed by landers over the SIBC towers, and we have reports NIO ground forces are readying to make a push across the bridges. The Defence Forces are moving into position with what remains of 12th Division, but they won't hold long without support. This is it. They're coming."

The lift continued downwards, bringing the Grand Moff out of the line of fire, at least for the moment.
Outside, the wind howled, sending sharp slivers of ice and grit into those unshielded from the howling winds. Above the SIBC towers, Imperial ships clashed, and on either side of the bridge, Legionnaires and Stormtroopers massed. The storm was only just beginning.
 
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Location | Myeeto [Orbit]
Objective | OBJECTIVE 2: Battle of the Bloody Aurora | NIO-TSE Naval Battle Over Mygeeto
Focus | Thaelius Thaelius | Telis Taharin-Zambrano Telis Taharin-Zambrano



The Sith. Nothing but a plague in this Galaxy alongside with the Jedi. Their very presence was the source of conflict and turmoil in the Galaxy. Without them , there wound't have been so much Galactic-Scale Conflicts in the past centuries all whom both Sith and Jedi were the cause off. Today , marked the beginning of the end of their reign of tyranny as the New Imperial Order would stand up against the Sith and push into Sith Territory to show the Galaxy that the Sith Empire wasn't an invincible Juggernaught and that it can be beaten. On Kintan the Sith had thought to be infaliable and yet they lost and here as the Sith would be so certain of victory they would be defeated again.

Marlon had his problems with both Sith and Jedi , the Fascist Jedi Imperator of the Grayson Imperium Cedric Grayson had betrayed him and been responsible for marking the beginning of his fall from grace. Marlon had built the Imperial Directorate to return the favor and shatter Grayson's hope of taking the fight to the Sith and liberate his Essonian Homeworld but again , the Confederate Sith Lord Credius Nargath had betrayed him coercing most of Marlon's top officers to leave him resulting in the Collapse of the Directorate. With nowhere else to go , Marlon had to join the NIO only to be given the rank of Captain , something that he found to be an embarrassment given his past as briefly one of the most powerful figures in the Core Worlds.

He had returned to the Deep Core in secret rebuilding his power base as he used proxies to once more influence Galactic Alliance Affairs. This time however Marlon would carefully make his moves especially with the failed attempt to discredit the Zweihander Union and isolate them politically and cause tensions between them and the G.A by convincing the public that they had been responsible for the attacks on Tython. What the Alliance didn't know was that he was the driving force behind such accusations and hopefully would remain unaware of Marlon's influence within the Deep Core.

Shortly after receiving the news of the Ardinn's Blunder in the Core Worlds , the New Imperial Order launched their attack against the Sith Empire with New Imperial Fleets moving towards the planets of Mygeeto and Munnilinst to secure the planets and free them from the grasp of the Sith. Such an Offensive would prove crucial in the war as the result of the Seiges of both planets would determine if the NIO would maintain their momentum and continue pushing against the Sith and vice-versa. Marlon's Fleet : Wraith Squadron was one of the First New Imperial Naval Units to rapidly mobilize as Captain Sularen was keen in fighting the Sith and helping the NIO Crush them in this pivotal Battle.

As NIO Assault Ships rushed towards the surface , Marlon Sularen could only wonder at what sort of carnage was taking place down below as his fleet moved into position establishing a Blockade along with other Naval Units as they awaited the arrival of a Sith-Imperial Relief Force in which was highly expected from the Fleet. A Colossal Battle would begin soon , and today would mark the beginning of Marlon Sularen's Resurgence as he would demonstrate his military prowess on the Battlefield.
 
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FN-999

Guest
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OBJECTIVE: TAKE THE CITY
ALLIES: Belisarius Belisarius | Irveric Tavlar Irveric Tavlar (CO)| Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt | Sturit Goan Sturit Goan | Other NIO Forces
OPPOSITION: Cara Dorniarn Cara Dorniarn | Mazrim Caide/Taim Mazrim Caide/Taim | Other TSE Forces
EQUIPMENT: IN SIGNATURE
PLATOON COMPOSITION: 39/50


It was a battlefield unlike any FN-999 had been on since the failed defense of Dosunn.

While there had been more vile lizards on Dosunn compared to the Sith army in Harnadian, the ferocity and cleverness of the defenders easily made up for it. Less than an hour prior, his platoon had been dropped off as part of the invading First Legion. Since then, thousands of blaster bolts, hundreds of explosives, and least ten artillery batteries had been thrown their way. There was very little cover in the roads approaching Munnilist's capital city, and eight troopers of his fifty-man platoon had been eliminated by snipers in the span of one minute. Since then, the platoon's chances of surviving hadn't improved much. Near the front lines of a much larger spearhead into the city, the platoon frequently had to run from cover to cover to avoid having their heads popped as if they were balloons. In fact, they were finding themselves so heavily assailed that FN-999 decided to restrict the platoon's movements to "cover hops" - bolting from one secure location to another slightly ahead of it.

Suddenly, he heard a shout from within the advancing force.
<”Nines! On me!”>

"Yes, sir!" yelled FN-999 to his superior. The commander of the legion that had absorbed FN-999's platoon and, from what he could tell, an extremely skilled warrior, FN-999 had met the man frequently called the "Imperator" shortly before the invasion. He respected the man, and appreciated his strength in combat. Consequently, when the Imperator barked his order, FN-999 obeyed immediately, headed towards the man barely visible through the explosions and rubble filling the battlefield.

<”Get your platoon formed up! Flow in with the armor! Move out!”>


"Yes, sir!" repeated FN-999, now within meters of his superior. Sliding behind a ruined pillar strewn across the road, he opened up his comms array.


[Men, assemble and continue the push.] ordered FN-999 to his platoon. [Continue to cover hop, and ensure the armor divisions remain protected.]

[Affirmative.] replied his 2IC. [We're continuing our push, platoon integrity remains high.]
 
we shall all die willingly
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// AIRBORNE TASK FORCE "HELL HOUNDS" //
// FLANK SITH-IMPERIAL DEFENCES ON HARNAIDAN //
//
NIO // FN-999 | Irveric Tavlar Irveric Tavlar | Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt | Sturit Goan Sturit Goan | Ryv Ryv | Allyson Locke Allyson Locke
// TSE // Cara Dorniarn Cara Dorniarn | Mazrim Caide/Taim Mazrim Caide/Taim | Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex

Descend into darkness.

A million shells were fired and a million mothers wept for their sons. Streets of executions turned to wasteland, bodies of fathers and sons littered the cityscape never to return home. A genocidal cost for a push into a heavily fortified city. Through the reinforced transparisteel of the dropship, one could see the grotesque picture of the war below and ask was it all worth it? But not Belisarius - there was no room for questions in the life of martial servitude; only orders to be obeyed.

Descend into darkness.

The dropship broke through another thick layer of clouds, another range of altitude covered as they closed in on their drop zones. Even through the helmet's dampeners, the explosive sounds of air batteries missing just by an inch could make even the strongest of soldiers puke. The lightness of feet creeping in and the running chill across his spine told him he was still alive. Fear - the clearest threshold between life and death. No matter how many campaigns the captain survived and trudged through, fear would always accompany him, always an indicator of his existence and his sanity.

Descend into darkness.

The hot zone, as preliminary reports dubbed it, where Sith-Imperial anti-air placements would be most effective; where a few bad jokes from the veterans among the company had described it as the culling. In a flash before him two dropships flying adjacent to Belisarius exploded struck from below. The tumbling of a body and the followed screams interrupted the reigning silence among the company.

"Lieutenant, my son!!" Bogeye, an old corporal cried out at Lt. Agrippa while kneeling before the body of his son succumbing to the shakes. It was the boy's first mission, he had personally volunteered after following his fathers steps. The boy had just witnessed the death of his brother in arms as one of the adjacent dropships had exploded, Belisarius came to learn much later. A medic hurried to the young soldier with his kit in hand and his mag boots keeping him balanced with all the swerving and maneuvering of the vessel.

Descend into darkness.

They closed in on their airdropping location. The captain had turned off the automated casualty reports seeking to find the inner focus he needed. His personal space was violated when a communication channel was opened to him directly from the Imperator himself - Irveric Tavlar.

<”Belisarius - do you copy. What’s your read?”>

<"Copy, Lord Imperator, this is Belisarius - ETA One Minute to Drop. Repeat. ETA One Minute to Drop."> he replied tonelessly. The fear was shoved away, only the soldier's duty remained steadfast.

"Inform him that Voi'kryt's ship was downed." from behind him came the whisper of Lt. Talin, the company's S2 - intelligence. Was he eavesdropping, the darn spook? Belisarius glared at him disobediently. "Captain, trust me." with the urgency he said, Belisarius felt the Lieutenant was privy to some details he was unaware of. That would've been normal, Talin's whole job was being a profession gossip.

The captain switched his comms back on and then, "Lord Imperator, this is Gladius Actual - reports arrived that the vessel carrying Legion Commander Voi'kryt has been shot down. Repeat. Legion Commander Voi'kryt has been shot down."

Whatever the Imperator replied, if he did at all, was briefly forgotten when Belisarius gave the order to airdrop.

From the open hatches of the dropships, swarms of New Imperial Stormtroopers equipped with gravchutes were deployed into the depths of the enemy's defenses; behind enemy lines, the suicidal part of this job always remained to the Airborne.

Descend into darkness.
 
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> OBJECTIVE : Harnaidan
> THEMATIC :
Gap
> KIT : Tenebrae Armor / Streiter Vibroblade / BR-212-'Jackal' ACR / BH 'Durin' Charric Blaster Pistol / Genesis Ranging Company
> NIO : Irveric Tavlar Irveric Tavlar Belisarius Belisarius Ursula Vizla Ursula Vizla
> TSE : AMCO AMCO




Hour Zero..
The Approach..

The horizon was already set in the throes of war, dark smoke billowed from the city choking it out as another arc of artillery fire descended. The city had been bustling, green even but so came the first punch, tangible revenge to the affront of the Empire; and stole with it the false serenity. It was a bleak welcome for the RDAG Squadron coming down from orbit, the first wave. Eight ships steadfastly approaching. Harnaidan was half on fire but it’s towers remained ever regal amidst the havoc and Lyra watched on with mounting apprehension.

She had never seen this scale of war waged first hand.

The woman’s hand balled at the thought, gripping the back of the cockpit’s seat, metal encased digits twisting digging into the leather. It only took one look at the city and there in the lead ship’s cramped flight deck, Lyra found the answer to one nagging concern that had dogged her heels. Yes, the fight was getting harder; the stakes set high. Were these nerves the very same the Catharian’s had faced in their assault? When they had come to rain hell down upon the miners of Tammar under the crimson blade? They were biting back now at the haunches of a greater beast like many others had tried and failed... Nothing was real nor assured until their boots, not for them nor their enemy she stewed silently. It wouldn’t be long before they were in the thick of it.

What was concerning was how quiet the communications were. It had to be reasonably bloody down below, forces below had the hard first push.. Lyra screwed her eyes shut, hidden beneath armor and helmet as she took a deep breath-one hand adjusting the comm link.

<”Alor Vizla ( Ursula Vizla Ursula Vizla ) this is Commander Vo’Kryt, fall in behind the Squadron, standby for orders.”>

Steadying herself, Lyra resolved to organize. It was no different than any other approach she told herself silently. Their numbers were bolstered, but she trimmed any expectations let alone confidence in that. The cannon fire painted the skies in red angry streaks before them, percussion from exploding aerial shots shaking the hull of the gunship. Hunching over, she studied their approach from just behind the pilots.

Faint air chatter read over the audio receptors, filling the silence. Watching from behind the glass had always left her with a sensation of detachment, she had boarded the ramp numb and with only a handful words to carry her on. Lyra was beginning to understand better the path Irveric Tavlar Irveric Tavlar had been forced to walk, the dauntlessness needed and regret swelled in her throat. It wasn’t one she could walk at his side. His tactics boarded suicidal, he had been-well there places she dare not tread. Too many words had fallen on deaf ears. There hadn’t been time to even sa-

“In coming!”

The pilot warned well after jerking the controls, the city plummeting from vision as they veered down suddenly. The lapse in gravity felt for a nanosecond, gut roiling and it snapped her out of her thoughts. Her feet catching under her, weight thrown forward as the ship maneuvered. She caught herself against the back of the chair, arm stinging from the impact.

The gunship’s engines roared, Lyra saw the faint glow of the scathing beams passing the windows, the ship narrowly dodging the ground defense’s shots. Her heart was racing now and Lyra twisted catching herself as the ship levelved out. A steady beeping building from the flight console until silence reigned again.

<“All gunships, this is RDAG One, be advised we have entered their anti-air range. Prepare for evasive maneuvers, the heat’s coming.”>

A harsh exhale escaped the woman as she released her foothold, taking a few steps toward the blast door. It hissed open and she was greeted by a cargo hull of troopers to check on them, rifle teams from Genesis were lined up, swaying with the turbulence and clinging to the brace straps. No one had been laid out on the floor, but the uneasiness was obvious as they shifted and inspected their rifles. Blind to the fire they flew under just outside. There was fear in the air if she paid too close attention, maybe half of them would make it out if luck was on their side.

She couldn't afford to be distracted, not now.

Appw’rii was shadowing the back of the column and Lyra took a double glance at the Captain when the woman flagged her over. Lyra crossed the freight space carefully, a quickness behind each step. One ear open for a warning from the pilots for a bloody barrel roll this time. Packing two blasters, the Captain hefted up a sleek rifle for her. Lyra recognised the ‘Jackal’, taking it off her hands with a curt nod. She turned it over in her hands and gave it a second inspection.

“Primed it the right way, just for you Commander,” Appw’rii said. Lyra knew the trooper was grinning behind her visor.

“Keep your head down out there Appw’rii, your ego’s made it a larger target then usual,” Lyra barked over her shoulder, turning to retreat as she slipped the strap over her head; it was harsher then she had intended. Frowning she tacked on, “Stand by at the ramp!”

Her brows knit together, one hand tentatively caught the edge of the flak poncho over her chest plate. Checking on the cylinder strapped underneath as she stalled, glancing the rangers over. Just another contingency plan. When it was all said and done she promised herself to throw it in the deepest hollow. The transport shook again and Lyra rolled her shoulders, picking up leaden feet and making haste for the cockpit. They were passing over the outskirts now.

“What’s our ETA, Andic?”

“Less than a minute ma’am.”

Tapping the panel on her forearm, she resumed her watch on their approach. Her boot tapping impatiently as the comms patched over.


<“Captain Belisarius Belisarius do you read, I’ve gotten nothing from the Imperator,”> Lyra ground out, last she had seen of the man he was offering them a rousing speech; bitterness aside. The comm links crackled and a beat of silence followed. Had he not received the transmission? She chewed on the inside of her cheek..right well they were knee deep in the shavit now; second guessing the call. They could improvise, they-she-had what intelligence given them to work with. She’d have to put some actual trust in the Captain serving the task force. <”-as soon as we reach the drop zone..I want you to focus left, there’s a hotel off the third avenue a few blocks up let's utilize it’s vantage point, artillery can follow up and we push up from there.”>

They had a chance from behind a blue cerulean map, Hellhound would make it happen or at least that's what the data liked to suggest.

“Oh fekk-Hold on to something!”

Her hand shot out for the nearest purchase, gritting her teeth and hands scraping at the steel panels. Out of the corner of her vision she caught the flames erupting from the ship, the small transport vessel shot out of the air and plenting down in a great ball of fire. Through the smoke they emerged.

“We’ve lost RDAG Three ma’am!”

“Press on-”

The durasteel was stolen out from beneath her suddenly as a set of alarms sounded out. The Squadron of ships were being fired upon from all corners of the city. Andic was cursing as his hands flailed, flipping switches trying to recover their shields. The city was a blur before a red arc engulfed their port vision, Lyra lurched forward out of habit but there was nothing she could do.

The pilot yanked the controls, trying to turn the ship in a split second ending the frightful sight but something exploded on top of them. Suddenly all but a ragdoll at the mercy of their metal coffin. Her breath was knocked from her lungs as she hit the side panel, an ugly crunch sounding as she hit the tech. A cannon shot tearing through the right wing.

The ship reeled and something in the cockpit sparked and by instinct she raised an arm to cover herself. The faintest noise of glass cracking caught her attention, there was a second smaller explosion that punched through the side of the vessel. The engines lulled as a weightless feeling washed over her for a second time and her eyes widened. She couldn’t tell which way was up or down.

A metallic whine ringing as they began to plummet.

Raising her voice, shouting. “Andic what-”

“Jump, jump, jump-!” the pilot howled over her, fighting the controls and reaching and slamming a shaking fist down on the ramp button. There was crimson dotting the cracked glass and she realized it was blood, smoke leaking into the cockpit.

Fear seized her, heart thrumming away violently and she gave the pilot a final regard. It was time to go.

Fight or flight kicked in and her blood rushed, she twisted around. Lyra latched on to the corners of the door, it hissed and repeated-jammed stuck half open. She wretched at the metal, sticking a foot through catching it on the ledge. It creaked as the thrusters on her heels kicked it. Fire licking at the durasteel, she pulled until her shoulders burned and begged, the door relenting barely enough for her to worm her way out. Her back hitting the top of the cargo hull as the HUD ran probability and exit strategy.

The simulation hadn’t prepared them for a falling ship exit.

The company fared no better in the wake of the impact, soldiers tossed from their places in order and file. At the rear of the ship, the luckiest closest to the ramp were already throwing themselves out as it dropped fully.. It was a beacon of hope staring at the skyline but Lyra realized then, in sudden horror..she was looking at the city, they were losing altitude fast. An ugly wailing alarm erupted in tune to the hammering in her ears.

<“Jet packs and thrusters! Jump!”> Lyra screamed, orders flowing over their local comms threatening to end in static. Those left, trying to escape activated their drop kits; anything to give them a fighting chance. The howling wind drowned out the world around them. Steadying herself, bodies flailing around her and Lyra’s eyes went wide. She planted her feet on the wall beneath her feet. What leverage she had did not last as the ship barreled out of control. The weight at her back went as she slammed into the floor of the bay.

Gritting her teeth, she clawed at the floor as their center of gravity changed and she had the opportunity to snag on to the brace straps. Disoriented as they fell. Lyra propelled herself forward nigh blind, activating the jetpack on a whim, the flames roaring at her back. The soldiers left were fighting an uphill battle trying to reach the open ramp. Impact warnings flashed across the HUD and she caught the limb of the nearest ranger.

<”Hold on hold on!”>

Leveling her wrist out she shot the cable, Lyra squinted with one eye. The HUD blinked red and offered correction to her aim. Firing off the wire, it sunk into the end of the ship and she reached forward pulling herself the ranger with her. She couldn’t pay mind to those around her, unmoving or struggling impossibly; unable to escape. The cable strained as it began to retract, pulling both of them with it. The ramp edge loomed and she reached, seizing the ledge and pulling herself out. Hit by the wind resistance, she tried to reach back for the other soldier, looking them in the visor. They never stood a chance and Lyra was ripped from her perch at the end of the burning gunship. Swept up to the air on the whim of the wind.

She slammed her fist down blindly on the vambrace, survival her only forethought. Ripping and pulling at the cable before it could go taunt, it clicked and detached freeing her before it could snap her shoulder from its socket. The woman was left to freefall, surrounded by the glow of the city. Staring at the ship going down as it drew further away, impact imminent. The HUD picked up life signs and other members from the Company could be seen falling, dropping in.

Survive. Survive. Survive.

She shut her eyes, unable to subject herself to watching the inferno claim those left aboard. Tossing arms out, Lyra fought for control on the wind, passing through smoke. She could easily be shot out of the sky by still and she fought to salvage the jump. Critical warnings ringing between her ears as the A.I listed off the declining distance between herself and the ground.

<“Inbound Squadron, this is Hellhound Actual. Continue to rendezvous,"> Lyra’s voice was clipped, struggling not to scream her words to tame the fear. When the distant explosion sounded, Lyra’s pried opened her eyes and faced down the city...
 
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Location: SIBC Headquarters (SIBC-VT), Tower B, Southern Mesas, Mygeeto
Allies: TSE - Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe | Madelyn Lowe Madelyn Lowe | Darth Argentum Darth Argentum | @Open
Enemies: NIO - Imperial Warlord Zovesa Imperial Warlord Zovesa | Gat Tambor Gat Tambor | Avernus Avernus | @Open



Down below, he waited; uncertain of what was to come of this battle, or if he would live to see the end of it. Obinmiux stood, leaning against a wall with arms crossed as his mind drifted between slight panic and something closer to unwavering resolve - a mixture of emotions swirled within his chest, seeing how this would be his first ever confrontation with war itself. He considered himself somewhat lucky actually, as most of his struggles throughout his life thus far have been of minuscule measure compared to taking part in what, undeniably, would be a grande spectacle in history logs. Through the force, the Sith youth reached out to the woman that he hardly had time to study or acquaint himself with; however, his job was not to care about the person, only to protect and be certain nothing ill nor injurious befalls the Moff.

"I await your audience, ma'am. Though this is most unconventional, it is my only means of communication. Tell me, do you fear death?" An awkward injection of dialogue being attempted upon the Moff's mind as a means to probe her personality, something Obinmiux would feed from in a more esoteric manner. Negativity was like a close friend - likened to that of kin of conjoined flesh, but only in a metaphorical sense. He and the dark side of the Force functioned symbiotically given the young man's half-bred heritage of being partly Sith.

Obinmiux felt the death from beyond the complex, even from the depths from whence he stood idle. It thrilled him on a deeply morbid level, practically able to taste the nuanced copper filtering through his nostrils and in the back of his throat.

This was to be bloodshed and anguish - this was to become a world of graves and tombs alike.

Yes, this was his calling.
 
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Location: SIBC-VT, (Bridge Two), Southern Mesas, Mygeeto
Allies: TSE Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe Madelyn Lowe Madelyn Lowe Obinmiux R'avfa Obinmiux R'avfa Amur
Enemies: Imperial Warlord Zovesa Imperial Warlord Zovesa Gat Tambor Gat Tambor Avernus Avernus


Jyon really did not want to find herself assigned to be on Mygetto, part of the 12 Division that had been tasked to defend the Sith positions at the Bridge Networks at No Man’s Land. She’d rather be on the ground in Muunilinst, participating in the defense of the city of Hardnaidan, but one always seemed to have the affinity to land up in situations that they did not prefer. Ever the loyal subject of the Sith Empire, she had come to terms with her circumstances and no longer felt as bitter as she had in the last 48 hours since she had arrived entrenched waiting for the attack to begin.

In most cases, the Sith Knight would have found herself overly excited and raring to go, weapon ready and eager to lob some more heads off, but when the battle finally started once more, Jyon felt off, grumpy as hell, and threatening to impale one of the legionnaires if he so much as bumped into her once more. She’d not had much sleep since the fighting started, and she was like a Sith that had woken on the wrong side of the bed, except she wasn’t in bed but in war. As the New Imperial Order’s armoured column fired away at their defensive positions, the Sith knight watched as her own forces retaliated with equal force, firing away with reckless abandon with whatever artillery and heavy weapons fire they had still left at their disposal. The Sith Forces wasn't about to let up yet, and the enemy still had a reckoning awaiting them.

This wasn’t the beginning of the siege, and the battle had already taken its toll significantly on both sides. For some reason, this charge seemed to have a ferocity that the previous ones did not have, and the gut feeling that never once failed her before told her that this was no ordinary attack. The enemy were now trying all they had at them, and for the Sith forces with her defending Bridge Two, it was do or die, and the Sith Knight wasn’t planning to die today.

Finding a relatively safe spot near the back of the front lines, Jyon sat and meditated, reciting the Sith Code over and over like a mantra to calm herself down and channel her knowledge of the Dark Side to aid her. Her training had been incomplete ever since her master disappeared on her, and since then the knight’s training had been somewhat haphazard before being thrown into the war. Moments passed and soon Jyon found herself reinvigorated by the energy of the Dark Side and the staunch belief, training and principles she had grown up in the Sith Empire Armed Forces.

Rising up with a rallying cry that earned her a grim smile from the Prefect, Jyon raised and ignited her double-bladed lightsaber as she made her way to the front lines, never more ready to begin the battles that awaited her. It was time to show both the allied and opposing forces what she was made of.
 
Objective 2, SIBC Complex
Allies: Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe Madelyn Lowe Madelyn Lowe
Opposition: Gat Tambor Gat Tambor @Darth Arvernus

Maro radiated annoyance as he swept down the underground corridor. The Muun's long legs carried him towards the command centre, eating ground rapidly. The light was dim and it was cold in the tunnels. But that wasn't what had soured his mood.

All around him, TSE personnel scurried about their tasks. He ignored the multitude of voices just as he ignored the muted explosions from above ground. They parted for him like so many fish before a shark. So much the better for them that they did.

As he reached the entrance to the command area, his zeyd-cloth robes announced exactly who he was to the guards posted. Their salutes were not returned and he didn't need to ask them to open the doors. He had no time for pleasantries and they knew why he'd come.

Not long ago he'd been meditating upon the Dark Side. He'd taken time away from his work to clear his mind. To refresh himself after many hours of financial reports. The work had been exacting and tedious.

His quarters within the towers had offered reprieve from the mundane. Just as the walls offered it from the fierce blizzard howling across Mygeeto. But he'd been interrupted. A feeling of impending danger through the Force had ceased his introspection.

It'd come moments before the first shells impacted. The Muun had hardly needed the holo communication from the Legion officer to know they were under attack. By then he'd started for the turbolift down towards the command centre. There he could better discover just who was attacking them.

The doors slid open and he stepped through into a darkened chamber mainly lit by computer screens. Specialists monitored displays and spoke quietly through communication systems. Among them stood the Moff Aerarii Tithe. Dansk couldn't help but be impressed.

Tithe had likely been asleep not long ago at this hour. Yet here he was, freshly shaven and uniform pressed as if for a parade ground. As the apprentice strode over to him he could see the human showing signs of fatigue. But he ignored it, instead breaking his silence by saying:

"Moff Tithe, who has been foolish enough to attack us?"
 

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// FERAL ACTUAL //
// OBJECTIVE // ASSAULT ON HARNAIDAN
// FOCUS // Irveric Tavlar Irveric Tavlar | Belisarius Belisarius FN-999 Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt | Open
// EQUIPMENT // Combat Assault Tank Armor Mk. I, KXR SFR-58 'Bozdugan' Blaster Rifle, REC-DC/04 "Feverwasp" - Pattern Particle Blaster Pistol
// COMPANY // x14 TXV XT-60B Cataphract-class Repulsor Main Battle Tanks, x4 Miscellaneous Support Vehicles
// THEME // SEVEN NATION ARMY - THE WHITE STRIPES

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It was scary, taking orders from the Imperator himself. There was this sort of added pressure that came with receiving instructions from the highest-ranking military official in the entirety of NIO, the kind that made Sturit's grip on his controls a little tighter. Still, it was a reprieve from the stress that came with being in the thick of a heated urban battle. The Imperator was intimidating enough, but the Sith were the ones that were out to kill him.

Compared to previous engagements, there were still some small comforts he could take. The Sith forces were professionals and could be expected to act rationally and predictably. They weren't an insurgent force, nor were they fighting using guerrilla tactics; Sturit's company likely wouldn't encounter any IEDs and the enemy would be dressed in full battle gear, not hidden among civilians. Of course a fully armed and armored Sith Trooper was dangerous, but there wouldn't be any surprises.

Enemy armor presence had been minimal up to this point. After getting out of the dropships only a few minutes ago, the company had focused on returning fire to the artillery emplacements deeper within the city. Now that they were on the move again the artillery fire had begun to drop off. The angle wasn't as good, and there was always a distinct possibility that the Sith barrage would hit their own troops. As much as urban warfare was hell, at least there was a lowered chance of orbital strikes, air bombardment, and artillery shells. The streets of Harnaidan appeared to be comfortably wide, such that Sturit wouldn't feel claustrophobic. But first he needed to get there.

<<"Enigma, this is Feral Actual. Solid copy. Over.">> He switched the transmission to his company's frequency, speaking concisely. <<"Feral Company this is Feral Actual. Linking up with infantry pinned at the edge of the city. Double column. Over.">> A cacophony of affirmatives followed from the troops under his command, and the company formed up as ordered. <<"Get moving. Out.">>

Next he spoke to the men in his own vehicle. <<"Driver, start.">> It was more of a formality, really; the driver had heard the orders and had already begun to shift the Cataphract into gear. The hum of the repulsors was drowned out by the sound of blaster fire as they approached the front; a few stray blaster bolts bounced off of the tank's heavy shields.

<<"Feral Company, this is Feral Actual. Gunners, full power, infantry. Give 'em a taste.">> As soon as he rattled off the order the MegaCaliber-6 turbolaser barrels began to glow an intense red before the weapons spat plasma towards a pair of pillboxes flanking the southeastern entrance to the city. The twin laser cannons laid down heavy fire on the Sith troops hiding in the trenches, as well as the small buildings marked as fire support targets. The power of even a single XT-60B was incredible, but a company working together was unstoppable.

The tanks slowed slightly on approach to the Imperator's holdout; Sturit spotted a platoon forming up to help them in. He checked their identification, then opened the transmission once more. <<"426th, this is Feral Actual. We're pushing in. Once we break the main emplacement, your men need to clean up any stragglers. Keep them off our flanks and off our tanks. Over.">> With the double column ready, Feral Company forged forwards into Harnaidan.


 

Lark

Saint of the Damned
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Location: Mygeeto
Allies: Jyon Hlervu Jyon Hlervu Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe Amur Obinmiux R'avfa Obinmiux R'avfa Madelyn Lowe Madelyn Lowe Darth Argentum Darth Argentum
Enemies: Vaulkhar Vaulkhar Imperial Warlord Zovesa Imperial Warlord Zovesa Jekadius Lawson Jekadius Lawson

Where’ve you gone, sweet child? It’s cold outside, so awfully cold. Where’ve you run off to?

Lark couldn’t place where that voice came from, but it sounded almost motherly. Full of concern, full of worry. As any good mother should be. But it wasn’t any voice he recognized, such tenderness was as alien to him as kindness was to the most depraved of human dregs. Lark knew that he had heard that whisper before, but where?

Oh, how he must make that woman worry. Surrounded by a tempest of frost and snow, harsh wind buffeting his cloak, Lark awaited anyone from the New Imperial Order to fall into his clutches. The storm ensured that visibility was reduced to a thick azure mist, the bitter chill was nearly as dangerous as any Sith warrior could hope to be. Lark lay within the heart of the storm, and from there he began his plan to tear the New Imperial Order apart.

In his pale hand was a haunted Necronomicon, and by his feet lay the bodies of three forlorn NIO scouts. Their blood was the first to be shed in his ritual. From their sacrifice such horrid creatures were born, beasts whose sole purpose was to rip the enemy apart until none remained in their way. Lark commanded those nightmarish monsters, by his order they would ambush Imperial soldiers within the blizzard, and vanish by the time subsequent troops discovered the corpses. And for every squadron that fell, another beast was birthed from the blood left behind.

Warghests plagued any Imperial troop that ventured within the storm. Their thick hide shielded them from the cold, but their main purpose was not survival. It was slaughter. There was an unearthly precision to their movements, even without Lark’s telepathic guidance. In their wake was such bloody carnage. They’d prey on any squadron of soldiers that lost their way, leaving behind carcasses torn asunder.

But for every Sithspawn born, Lark’s own sanity threatened to slip away. For the moment, he could control it, but how long would that last? He had grown accustomed to the maddening calligraphy of the tome, and understood the primeval secrets within. But his knowledge of the unknown only went so far. Despite the shrouded movements of his Sithspawn, the source of such wickedness was easily discernible. It was only a matter of someone being able to locate the source of distortion and reach it. The Necronomicon amplified Lark’s most prominent emotions, and it was impossible for him to hide them.

And such emotions were not what one would expect. There was no maliciousness, no wrath from Lark’s spot within the storm. No, the strongest emotion the gale around him emitted was sadness. Not even Lark could explain why that was, for he had rarely felt more at peace. Yes, within the core of ice lay the source of such eldritch somberness. If one sought to bring an end to the assaults of the Sithspawn, one must traverse the maze of such terrible, bloody melancholy.

It is cold outside, Lark thought.

Home.
 

Darth Quizitus

Guest
D
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Post: 1
Location: Bridge B, Southern Mesas, Mygeeto
Faction Objective: 1
Allies: Amur | Madelyn Lowe Madelyn Lowe | Jyon Hlervu Jyon Hlervu | Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe | Sith Empire forces
Enemies: Imperial Warlord Zovesa Imperial Warlord Zovesa | New Imperial Order forces
Gear: Listed in Character Bio
Theme
Immediate Objective: Get to the landing point

The Diogenes shuddered and groaned as it soared through the air. Alarms were wailing and several fires were burning inside and outside the ship. "Activate emergency boosters and deploy airbrakes!" Mid shouted at his bridge staff. "Boosters aren't responding, sir! Airbrakes deployed!" one crew member called out. "What's the status on the ship?" he asked, looking to an officer holding on for dear life to a console. "Structural integrity is still holding, though we've lost several systems. Safe to say, we're not getting out of atmosphere before repairs are done!" he spoke with distress. Mid's frown hardened as he looked out the window. "This is the last time I bring my own ship on these assignments." he grumbled to himself.

They broke through the clouds and troops on the ground could see them coming down rather very quickly. "Get us as close to the headquarters as we can without taking it along for the ride!" he ordered as he gripped to a console cluster a little tighter. At this point, holding on was becoming too much even for the behemoth of a Pureblood. "BRACE FOR IMPACT!" shouted the helmsman, barely giving the bridge crew enough time before they collided with a mountainside. The entire bridge crew lurched forward, some even suffering fatal wounds, as the ship came to an immediate standstill and started to slide backwards down the mountainside like a pizza slice down a windshield. As Mid looked up, he saw a person falling a little ahead of the bridge. The person was getting closer and closer. Not wanting them to splat against the windshield, Mid released a powerful blast to blow open the thick transparisteel and then used the force to guide the person into the bridge. Upon closer inspection, he noticed it was another Sith. "Grab onto something and hold on!" he shouted at them as he followed his own advice.

Luckily the ship managed to slow down and stop against the mountainside close to one of the main bridges. Mid only let go once everything stopped moving, then took a moment to adjust to the feeling of everything not shaking like a ship getting obliterated. "Who's not dead? Sign off?" he groaned as he rested against a wall. A few moans and mumblings chimed in around them on the bridge, indicating they were luckily more or less in one piece. "Where are we?" he asked the helmsman who was getting up from the floor. "Bridge location B, sir. Close to Tower B." he called out. "Get this ship in order, let's get these supplies unloaded." he said before looking at the other Sith. "Congratulations, you guys have some food and ammunition now for the next few minutes." he quipped before grabbing his helmet and leading the way to an exit.

Outside the wind howled and cut through his robes. He focused the force to spare himself from the cold as he looked around. He raised his comlink to his lips and opened a secure channel to other Sith-Imperial members. "This is Darth Kados reporting in. To any Sith-Imperial officers, I have arrived with some relief supplies and ammunition for the siege. My ship's current location is Bridge B if any other units need supplies."he radioed in as he looked around. He was rather curious over who was left. From the look of things...probably not many. "You've been through hell..." he commented to the other Sith. He turned to face her and gave a nod. "I am Darth Kados. My I ask your name?" he asked with some semblance of formality through the annoyance.

He looked back at the ship behind them and hailed the bridge. "Bridge crew, I want a full system check. What works and what doesn't, got it?" he said firmly. A 'yessir' could be heard through the comlink as he looked around.
 
Muunilist
The Apotheosis
Allies: NIO | Vaulkhar Vaulkhar | Irveric Tavlar Irveric Tavlar
Enemies: TSE | Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex
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As the fight droned on between The New Imperial Order and The Sith Empire, the Queen of Amaranthine sat in the Apotheosis, staring over the horizon unamused. Enemies closed in on her former husband's territory, yet something dug in her chest. While she at one time held some affection for the man claiming the throne of the Emperor, she knew it was nothing but falsehood. No feelings the ghostly woman possessed were true to what they represented; she was nothing but a pawn. Dark nails dug into the command chair she sat upon, wisps of black fog trailing off of her as her yellow eyes locked on the display of hyperspace before her.

Ripping from the void of darkness the Apotheosis joined the heat of battle, cruisers crashing into blockades and gunfire filling the once empty and calm space they now occupied. Bright green lights approached behind the NIO lines, with a wave of Morrows hand the holo display roared to life, requesting to transmit to the Dissident Aggressor; the ship of Irveric Tavlar. Sitting before him was the Queen of Horror, her dark eyes set on him with an eerie hatred.

“New Iridonia has remained independent for far too long, after careful consideration we will be joining your forces in exchange for the peace to follow this war. And my former husband's head.”

There was a moment's pause as the monstrous crossed one leg over the other, watching his response closely; all the while soldiers rushed behind her in the display, readying for discharge towards the planet's surface.

We stand at the ready awaiting your orders. Call upon us when you desire.”

The call cut off as Morrow stood from her rest, looking to a servant by her side; beside them her two apprentices; Karliah and Inian Thas, both waspy figures though more than capable all the same.

“Today we are changing the balance of the galaxy; I’ve trained you all this time to handle yourselves. Remember all I have taught you, gather your armor and weapons and join them on the surface.” Pausing she looked to the servant. “Bring my armor to the bridge, gather a few others to assist in bringing the Beskar sheets here as well.”

After being dismissed the three went their separate ways; the nerves of the moment building in all as Morrow’s dark stare followed them as they departed. Though she always held a distance from them they were all she cared for. As her armor arrived the woman instructed them to leave it behind her; pulling it forward towards her back the metal wrapped around her form, conforming to every curve and bend loosely enough to allow her dexterous movement. Sheets following behind wrapped over the back of her armor; weaponry for the coming fight.


And all was left was to await orders.
 
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Location: Muunilinst
Objective: Defend The Empire | Kill All Enemies
Equipment:

Tags: Allyson Locke Allyson Locke | Wyatt Morga Wyatt Morga


The battle had been raging for days.
They had known it was coming, prepared the best they had, but even yet it was still a fierce struggle. The frigid air could not mask the stench of the dead as they lay uncollected on Mygeeto’s soil and stone, and the rank odor reminded him of the trenches of Commenor and Mandalore. It was a smell that all veterans of any conflict had come to recognize, familiarize, and even embrace as like any other smell. The putrid rankness burrowed its way into your sinuses, clawing in deep so that it was as your very mind was wallowing in the contagion-clogged mire beneath the rotting dead.
Even many lightyears away from Mygeeto, the Dark Lord of the Sith could not escape the smell. It followed him like a bad omen as he descended the boarding ramp of his private shuttle into the cavernous hold of the Vodvtaki Siege Palace, which hung over the capital city of Muunilinst and cast a dreadful shadow over the entirety of Harnaidan.
In the days preceding the now bogged down fighting at Mygeeto, Muunilinst had been designated as a staging ground for the Sith Empire’s war machine. The urban centers had been evacuated and every square acre of urban sprawl converted into a maze of redoubts, pillboxes, and storehouses which could bear the burden of the Empire’s Grand Army of the Braxant as it was moved into position to parry the separatist's thrust across the Braxant Run.
The thrust had been indeed parried, but as it had been mentioned before that meeting of arms had now begun a prolonged siege. The Dark Lord spent many days fighting in the most harrowing conditions, never shirking the opportunity to charge into the most dangerous combat zones to lead the forces of the Empire personally from the front. But, even he had limitations and thus had made a brief sojourn to Muunilinst to recuperate his considerable strength.
He had spent several hours in deep meditation with Darth Isolda, his most trusted and most powerful of Dark Side oracles. Through her insidious power, she rejuvenated his strength with acupuncture and shadowy trances, while blind and mute servants tended to his flesh with oil and pulverized bone. Isolda spoke to him in the ancient tongue of the Sith, incanting words of power in conjunction with deliberate gestures and the application of rare and exotic herbs. Few had ever seen the Emperor so removed from his armor and his weapons, stripped down to his bare flesh, and seemingly at the mercy of those who tended to him. Years of intimate cooperation had strengthened the bonds of trust between him and Isolda, and she would never betray him.
A great shudder reverberated through the walls and floors of the sanctum, dust knocked loose from where it had accumulated in silence. The Emperor's eyes shot open wide, molten irises like copper halos in a sea of impenetrable blackness. They swam over to look at Isolda, whose face contorted with prophetic concern. Frowning, the Emperor rose from where he had lain inert for many hours, his muscles aching in protest as he swung his legs over the side and stood naked in the inky gloom. Striding over to the wardrobe, he began to redress while his armor was recollected from the pools of oil they had been submerged in and piece by piece he was fully decorated in his paraphernalia of war.
The oracle's visions had shown him many things, things that without context were inane and unknowable. Now, as the pieces moved into place upon the board, he could see with frightening clarity exactly where those pieces lay.
Striding out from the sanctum, he was accompanied by his Crownguard; fully armored in their combat regalia. It had been too long since they had immersed themselves in a true battle, not just a slaughter of insurrectionists and primitives; but a true test of their commitment and skill. No doubt the Empire as a whole would be tested in these coming months, perhaps these coming years, for this was the perfect crucible to mold the Empire into something far grander than it had been before. The weak would perish, ruined by the violence of the blossoming war, and the strong would be hardened by the struggles and the impossible decisions. A trial by fire, a purification by bloodletting, endurance through flagellation.
The Emperor rejoiced in such carnage, and his typically stoic face was marred from ear to ear by a hideous grin that fully spoke of the horrifying monster that lurked behind the often handsome facade. It was quickly consumed by the helmet he wore to protect his face from damage, the locking mechanism snapping into place with a hiss as old air was cycled out and filtered air cycled in. As the helmet's electronics powered to life, he was bombarded by brief sensory overload as every notification running through the Empire's thrice-encrypted channels was fed through the HUD. He could see where the enemy was probing into Muunilinst, and where the Empire was moving to meet them without fear.
He was confident in his commanders, those who had remained steadfast to their oaths in spite of the separatists and apostates which spat upon all that they had fought, bled, and died for. They could handle the situation on the macro front, he was interested in something far more micro.
Taking the lift from the Siege Palace, the Emperor and his Crownguard retinue made their way through the cityscape of Harnaidan, virtually unseen as they navigated the battle-ready city. Though the Empire's forces were spread evenly across the capital city, even with some in reserve in the event one front needed reinforcement, there were few soldiers in this small portion of the interior city. He was drawn to a small domicile, one that would've been overlooked for its plainness by anyone else, but the Emperor knew that such trivial things could contain far greater secrets.
Igniting his lightsaber, he rounded the corner just to slam the crimson blade through the midsection of a pale Muun right as he passed through one the home's many thresholds. The shock and fear in his eyes were stark and naked, and the Emperor drank it in like water from a spout. He twisted and pulled the blade upward, ruining the alien's insides as the life profusely ebbed from him. Tearing the blade free, the Emperor flung the now dead Muun down to the floor at his feet. He didn't even look at him, his gaze was directly fixated on the other who was following the Muun out.
One he knew quite... intimately.
"Hello," spoke the Emperor, his deep baritone garbled by the mechanized vocabulator of his helmet, "Allyson Locke. I was not finished with you yet."
 

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