Dominion Stratego | Dominion of Toprawa | NIO

[Aiko Hayata]

HAYATA CORP|KOL HURO|BUSINESS
Tags:// Aerarii Tithe Gat Tambor

"How very droll of you, Mr Tithe, or should I say chancellor Tithe now?"

She teased Tithe with her own trademark sense of humour, her face partially illuminated by the bright factory lights below and the rest obscured by the shadows of the office. Was she glad for her silver-haired business acquaintance? Most certainly she was; it was better than that hag Chandra. Aiko had lost personal count of how many times the Jedi 'tax collectors' from the silver order had tried to audit Hayatas tax sheets. Even a former Jedi acting in politics was a nuisance to her, and at least with Chandra forced into some semblance of irrelevancy, her business practices would not suffer further scrutiny from law enforcement.


"That old man won't be an issue long term, provided Senate affiliated law enforcement turn the other way, I have my means to force him out, both violent or-."


The pairs solitude was interrupted by the late but convenient arrival of their colleague Gat Tambor; she'd recognise that trademark wheezing sound any business expo she'd go. But, though it may irritate her, she respected Tambor. She looked forward to any future business between them, especially if it concerned getting rid of homegrown competition in the core and beyond.


"Well met, you're hard to find Mr Tambor, but I am glad to make acquaintances once more" she smiled and nodded in respect, extending a hand in greeting to the fellow business head.​

​

 

[Willan Tal]

LORD PROTECTOR
GALIDRAANI FREE STATE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER

​

Enlil Julius Haskler Caarlyle Rausgeber Noel Strasza Onansi of Thyrsus Rurik Fel

Tal had a particular affinity for these little meetings, though he seldom talked, opting instead to appear for appearance's sake and observe such matters play out among the other Warlords. His own closest acquaintance as different they might've been, was Rausgeber, a man born of Naval tradition but cut from the same militaristic cloth as Tal. Haskler, as minor, as he was, still irritated the Galidraani leader with his overambitious projects and speeches against the Warlords present. Though as the present, he did not threaten Tal nor compromise Galidraans hard fought liberties.

Enlil was much the same to him, the shirtless poof had tried to intervene in his affairs, and it had earned him nought but the scorn of an entire nobility and especially Tal himself. Who had answered in turn with a semi authorised expulsion of multiple Novanian communities under the starkly thin pretence of counterinsurgency operations.

Rurik Fel, the proclaimed great successor of the now-deceased Tavlars legacy, truly worried him to his bone, looking like he had sprung up from old Galidraani myth to grab Tal by his coattails and drag him to hell. Those cold, unrelenting eyes from that iron shut mask scared him to the bone, eyes that spoke of pure, unrelenting hatred and icy malevolence. Rurik was not natural. He knew that as much. He prayed that his deal with Fel might last beyond and not turn out to be a respite.

​

 

[Gail Weller]

Sergeant Gail Weller
Ravelin, Bastion
Objective #2: The Core Problem
Tags: Open (Objective 2 Characters)

Gail hears footsteps behind her; she turns her helmeted head and sees the familiar armoured silhouette of Corporal Reis. Reis hooks a thumb over his shoulder to a door recessed into the Kiosk. "Hey, Sarge, I'm here to relieve you if you want to go and eat now." Anxiety was heard in his voice if not seen on his face, given the helmet's faceplate and polarised visor. Gail wondered if it was her that made him nervous, and if so, why? She couldn't muster an answer. Perhaps it was born from elsewhere?

"Sounds good, Corporal." Gail walks out the door at the rear of the Kiosk and descends down a flight of stairs into the fortress's sub-levels. The sound of comlink chatter fills the hallways from speakers embedded in the ceiling, the voices of men and women patrolling the grounds and surrounding properties around the fortress relayed their activities and what they were seeing. They were teeming with Imperial Security Officers from different units; occasionally, Gail would spot ranks of the black armoured officers from the Counter-terrorism Command and their similarly equipped Riot Command.

Opening a door that recedes into the wall, Gail steps into a spacious room characterised by a fully-equipped kitchen to her right and a single extraordinarily long marble table running through the centre of the room flanked by white chairs. Gail raises both hands up to the sides of her helmet. The seal around Gail's throat begins to deflate. Steam rushes over her face sending strands of brunette hair flapping across her face wildly, forcing eyelids closed. Turning head to the side slightly, Gail eases the cowl over her crown.

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

Post #2
OPERATION: CHIMERA COBALT
THE_WOAD
IMPAF-COMMAND

Tags: Aemilio Valaar Kolson Vrask Knight
Aridius 'TK-1575' Mav Ryburn Sephi Karneh Savoh Muska

'All three friendly contingents have begun to move in on their objectives - also sticking to Op-Sec as ordered, sir.'

'Good, easy enough to do when the platoons get their comm-frequencies aligned I dare say.', the Lord-General replied, turning back to Lieutenant Gorman as they watched Vrask's contingent move in on PORTCULLIS in well-spaced, platoon-sized columns. It was fairly obvious these professionals had it in them to hear out and follow through on tactical input from above, so Lord-General Barran inwardly cautioned himself to be sure his idea was workable in real-time strategic engagements, as no second-guessing would ever sit well within or with anyone else affected by such detrimental indecision, and the Stormchaser had (decades before that day) vowed never to become that kind of man in his later years. Remembering this as acutely as one might remember something particularly life-changing, Erskine sighed before he snatched up the receiver from Gorman's comm-link unit, thinking of every officer who ever let him down as he measured the wording of his next orders carefully.

<"Barran to Grunge! It looks to me like you have a shock-and-awe plan in mind - good man, but I'll be needing you to keep that plan in yer back pocket for now. As it will come in handy for making what I have in mind run even more smoothly, so hear me out-">​

Well, here goes nothing.

<"Instead of attacking outright, rig the areas surrounding the spaceport with hazards instead. We're talking IEDs, spike-pits, the lot! An' after that, you'll be required to kick up the hornet's nest with your plan as soon as everything's in place.... An' as soon as you do what Special-Forces does best, I'll assume you'll be leading multitudes on a merry chase behind ye, a merry chase into every trap you could possibly think of.">​

 

[Aridius 'TK-1575']

ARIDIUS
TK-5325 'CRIMSON'

OPERATION CHIMERA COBALT
STORMTROOPER CORPS
501ST LEGION

Aridius wasn't the same after Dathomir. He was a machine, doing his duties when assigned and to the point and that was the end of it. The other Stormtroopers looked at him weirdly; they knew something was off about him but didn't bother to ask since everyone understood. He was a Heavy Stormtrooper, the one that wielded the Heavy Blaster of absolute death. The most casualty-producing weapon in the entire Stormtrooper Squad. A regular Blaster would just open up a hole, maybe a little bit of gore but the Heavy Blaster was a different story- piles of gore, and eviscerated mush was all that was left.

A training exercise, all this was- planing explosives for the boss on top. "5325, hurry up over there." Said his Sergeant, bringing his focus back to himself. He would respond, "Yes, Sergeant." Before quickly finishing up the Thermal Detonator. It was rigged to be a claymore, the pride of having a multi-functional technology after all. Three presses of a button, and it was ready to be armed. He then moved onto the next one, planting the charge and pressing the same three buttons in succession. The other Stormtroopers of the Squad, new faces to Aridius [his old Squad died on Dathomir], did the same.

While Aridius was pressing the thermal detonators, he would space out for a minute.. While he reached for another detonator, it suddenly flew out of the bag and straight into his hand. Aridius blinked a few times; wondering what just happened. { What the?.. } He thought back to that moment he shared with the Nightsister again; why can't he shake her? Aridius has seen and met many women in the past, it wasn't a new thing to him. But something within him said that the Nightsister did something to him; used her dark witch powers or something. He read that they used the Force but in a unique way; is this the Force speaking to him? Stupid Rancor shit, he was just a Stormtrooper.

{ Stupid thoughts, you're just another person in the galaxy- trying to feel important. It's just the stress, that's all. } He said to himself again, and he went back to planting explosives.

Any Imperial Knight or other Force-Sensitive character would be cool if they notice!
​

 

[Knight]

Throne​

Tag: DECEASED Erskine Barran [OPEN]

---

In the streets of the mock-up of the Senate district the heavy personal walker slowly walked ahead of a column of Imperial soldiers. He had not asked from which of the many units they had come from nor did he in all honesty care. He had seen a lot of units come and go, missions succede and fail, this excerise was all the same to him. Would the newly minted Sergeant ever say that to an officer? Of course not. He would go right ahead and tell them what they wanted to hear; that this was a top priority and that even the lowest rank cared dearly about the simulation as it pertained to the real world. Most of the Imperial Army would go back to their garrison posts and never see battle on an alien world. Perhaps the Stormtroopers would care more, Knight pondered, it did seem more their area. The whole sword of the Order and all.

"This looks just like the place." said one soldier from the middle of the column "How would you know? You've never even been to the Core!" responded another "Holonet, bantha brain." Knight said nothing to quiet them down but their sergeant did "Quiet the both of you. They're monitoring us and I'm not taking the fall on it if they hear you laughing." as the column neared their objective Knight could see on his sensors several other units moving in on the Throne objective.

 

[Noel Strasza]

W I R E S
R E V E N A N T
IMPERIAL SPECTRE
Rurik Fel Onansi of Thyrsus Caarlyle Rausgeber
Willan Tal Enlil Arjant Clevenger Julius Haskler Lucina Centaris

​

Situated beside The Iron Imperator, Revenant remained silent as the passions of the men overtook their contributions, each tossing his opinion freely into the air with little regard for accomplishing much or coming to an agreement, save for the rare few who could find some ground commonplace between their grander causes. It was what she had expected, what she had coached herself into some level of preparedness for, but as steeled as she was for the impact of it, her frustration was evident in the faint mechanical whirr of the jaw tensing and relaxing from her position. The same could be said for the hands opening and closing against the tops of her thighs beneath the surface of the table, metallic digits idly coursing over one another with the fidget overtaking her tick by stillness for so long.

She had been gone for only months, but her deep-delve into The Maw's territory had left her feeling as though years had been dialed from her mortal clock; claimed far before their time. This very feeling is what drove her to stand smoothly, shoving back her chair with her posture as she did as much in the break between debating points. It was not her place, in a way, to speak at these assemblies, yet it was strictly her place to speak on behalf of New Imperial best interests. Something that, the longer she listened, the more she shared Rurik's sentiment that brooding agendas of hidden design would be exposed to the fullest ire of their justice. And she would see to it personally that Carlac would be the sole rust spot upon their iron record if she had to.

"If we're done speculating, gentlemen," the Spectre interjected coldly, ill-regard given toward the petty ideological concepts tossed about the conference room, "We will discuss what The Brotherhood of the Maw is actually doing." A pointed stare saw the red of her eyes flicker briefly as her authorized systems interconnected with those of the holoprojector stationed central to the sprawling table, and at once, did the wealth of reconnaissance she had hoarded become pronounced in physical space for all to see. Outlined in digital space, she started from the top. It was a graphical display of the charted galaxy, each territory outlined in its appropriate colour.

"The sacking of Coruscant and subsequent collapse of The Jedi Temple, the assassination attempt on Former Chancellor Chandra, and the duel between leaders was made possible by this-" the cyborg tipped her head forward in indication, and with the gesture, the hyperlane became highlighted between Maw Space and The Core, "-a hyperlane that had been previously undiscovered to our knowledge. I believe a warning was offered to the New Jedi Order in particular before the assault occurred, however, I was unable to verify if this was true or not. This granted them direct access to strike at the heart. This, of course, came after the slaughter-fest on Jakku."

The display shifted, showing a vast spanning desert where smoking columns poured skyward from otherwise unseen vents. After a second more, the display illuminated with an infrared filter, exposing the enclave beneath the sands. "The New Sith Order, as they've so creatively dubbed themselves, found the Jedi on their own turf through negligence alone. Everything from a map to the enclave itself and access keys was looted from the corpse of a slain Jedi, opening the window wide for the Sith to attack and kill them when they were least expecting it. This is the Maw's strategy, which some of you have had the displeasure of facing directly."

"They're actively hunting and capturing Sky-walkers to force into their service, giving them greater travel access to anywhere they so choose, so long as their ships can physically reach it. Their armada is relatively small, but what ships they do have possess the firepower to all but annihilate planets, as demonstrated by the traitor Halketh's flagship on Rhand. For those of you that don't know what happened there, The Brotherhood baited the Confederacy into a trap on the planet and obliterated the surface from orbit."

She paused, not because she needed breath, but because she understood the very human need to process so much information at once, "A tactic we will see again in the future. They hold no regard for the material, be it people or assets, even their own, and will do more than destroy them to ensure they do not lose them to hostile forces."

The display projected central in the room shifted now, its pixels aligning into a geometrical portrait of a familiar witch. "Starfall," the Spectre started, glowering at the woman's wretched image, "is a particularly powerful sorceress within their rank. Killed on Rhand, as far as I could gather, she was resurrected by ritual on Coruscant. She has ties to the Night Sisters on Dathomir, and we can expect to see more of them within their ranks, should she have her way in recruiting them into the fold. The best course of action for debilitating her forces and rendering her vulnerable is anti-force measures, of which Prefsbelt can offer us in full, I'm sure. She's mobilized her direct acolytes to collect her Sisters on Dathomir, this we have evidence of outright." The cyborg's crimson glare danced briefly to Caarlyle Rausgeber 's visage, "As Julius Haskler mentioned, Sularen is a name we're all somewhat familiar with."

The image flickered to paint the image of the fleet commander, "However, he is not the one in charge of the clandestine operation that the Mawites have dubbed 'The Final Dawn'. That, in fact, would be Halketh, with an underling serving in the role of High Reagent, though I was unable to determine a name or face for this individual at this time. The Final Dawn, fundamentally, is their scheme to destroy the galaxy and rebuild it into their own design. It's nothing new to any of us who have faced the Sith before. Total scorched earth tactic, shock and awe, and string-pulling. All it means for us is that we do not become as complacent as the Galactic Alliance about just who we grant authority to." Those piercing eyes of hers found the newer, more unfamiliar faces amongst those seated around the table and lingered just enough to make it outright clear who had yet to earn her favour.

Her scowl intensified as the pixels realigned into the portrait of Halketh. "Our former friend here has been elevated in status, he holds the title of Dark Lord of the Sith. He has acolytes and the entirety of the New Sith Order beneath his control outright, as from what I could gather, Solipsis delegated that to him. He's grown in power, that or he was always hiding his power, as his armies have swelled to numbers that we haven't observed prior. He is responsible for the slaughter of the Jedi on Coruscant, and led the assault there. From what I could tell, he's made his flagship his home, and try as I might, I was unable to infiltrate it without risking my team's lives, or my own. He has an obvious vulnerability, however, as upon further digging, I was able to find that the epicanthix he once held as consort is still alive and well. If we can track down this man and bring him into custody, it's likely we could lure the snake out into the open."

The cyborg shifted through her digitized report, skimming over the data in microseconds of real-time, processing what was pertinent enough to bring to The Assembly's attention outright: "It's my belief we will be their next target, as for where they will strike, I am unsure, however what I can guarantee is that it will be a strike most underhanded and not at all what it seems. We must exercise precise caution. They've mobilized across their territory, expanding around their borders in an effort to resupply and mend what damage they sustained from their rapid assaults. I would have considered them to launch an assault from what remnants they have on Carlac, but upon combing the world, my team and I found nothing but shambling corpses wasting away and becoming inert. This leads to my next point."

And again, the swirling display dissipated only to reshape itself into the war-torn world of crystal. "Without Halketh's presence to sustain the undead, they seem to be withering away. Wasting to immobile husks incapable of fighting. We stop sending soldiers in, we leave it alone, and I suspect the undead will no longer be a problem for us. I stand by the notion of destroying it to make an example out of it, if there is no other option, however, what I suggest is something that would keep the assets we have on the planet in usable status. With our forces mobilizing to return to war, we need every ounce of manufacturing prowess we have at our disposal. This includes the refinery and manufacturing plant beneath Carlac's surface, Nova Vox." A metal digit snapped to abruptly, tapping against the surface of the table, "We starve the corpses of food, a war of attrition, plain and simple. We stop sending men in, they starve to nothing, and once we give it time, we send in forces to sweep and clear the facility."

"Wistril is the second planet in the Carlac Province and became the temporary home for the citizens who did not wish to fight for their planet and fanatical warlord when he made the call for it. These are still New Imperial people, betrayed by their brothers, and left with nothing after being stripped of their home and work once more. These are the workers who know how to run the facility. We sweep and secure the facility after giving the dead time to waste away, and we put these people back to work for our cause."

"I'll be sending copies of my compiled report, in full, to your feeds. Do review it and remember why it was you were granted your seats." She concluded with the return to her own chair.​

​

 

[Sephi Karneh]

T R U S T
N O V A
IMPERIAL MILITARY ASSISTANCE GROUP
SPECIAL OPERATIONS COMMAND | 1st GROUP | 'VANDAL' SQUAD
Kolson Vrask DECEASED Erskine Barran
ARMOR PRIMARY MAGCANNON GRENADES MELEE

​

Every soldier had their way of preparing for a mission, some little tick, a quirk, be it nervousness or otherwise, that commanded their ritual was inconsequential. For some, it was what Grunge often resorted to in the dwindling moments before combat, counting ammo religiously like their fingers touched prayer beads instead of live rounds. For others, it was actual prayer. Others napped. Some meditated. For the combat engineer, preparation to act was a simple thing, really. Some vague tune scratching at her brain goaded the rapid-tapping drum of her fingers against the helmet clutched between her thighs. She bobbled her head to the motion, keeping time to the song swirling in her head, warpainted lips finding purse with the faint verses she resonated in accompaniment.

Grunge's call and prompt settle to landing station saw her slap the tops of her armored thighs abruptly, seizing her helmet thereafter, and it found its roost over her braided hair. She expelled a deep breath, killing off the tune her lips carried, and rose to her feet, allowing her disruptor rifle to find rest against the breadth of her armored chest. She marched forward, situating behind him in the line and reached forward, planting a firm hand on his shoulder. The other flexed upward, curling around the bar overhead as the inevitably rough arrival of their transport loomed.

The sudden interruption of their quiet saw her sigh softly beneath her helmet as the weight of the hand against her shoulder was felt. No shock and awe? Really? The hell was she even doing here? What was the point in training her battle rigging if she wasn't ever going to get to us-​

<"Instead of attacking outright, rig the areas surrounding the spaceport with hazards instead. We're talking IEDs, spike-pits, the lot! An' after that, you'll be required to kick up the hornet's nest with your plan as soon as everything's in place.... An' as soon as you do what Special-Forces does best, I'll assume you'll be leading multitudes on a merry chase behind ye, a merry chase into every trap you could possibly think of.">

-e it.

Her candid disappointment quickly manifested on the opposite side of the emotional spectrum, those lips of hers curling into a wicked grin.​

 

[Ignatius]

OPERATION - CHIMERA COBALT
501st LEGION - STORMTROOPER CORPS
INQUISITORIOUS - SECOND BROTHER
| Aridius 'TK-1575' |

​

For the first time in quite a while, I was given a choice in my desired operation. Stay with the Moffs, show face for the Inquisitors who have pretty much been non-existent for the past bit, or prove that we can be a force by actually doing a job. An Operation Chimera Cobalt. It was here, that I was given the rather fortunate circumstance of aiding the Five-oh-first legion. A sect of very well know Stormtrooper corps that had once been the direct command of the infamous Darth Vader, and later under many Sith legions. However now, they are the bread and butter of the New Imperial Order.

While I was away from my own troops, this was to show that the Inquisitors could be of value in other operations than just secrecy. Hunting and executing commands, and even should a member of the NIO get out of place. Heavy troopers were placing demolitions for training. While the rest of the Troopers were out tearing down whatever be that our enemy may look, there were many who still needed to be taught, to understand, and to be shown the ropes. Maybe, just maybe there was potential in this group for which should approval be bestowed, a sect of a new Legion be hand picked.

It was during this test that a particular trooper was placing his demolitions. Being told to hurry it up, that peeked my interest. He took a bit. Questioning himself lightly. Yet, in amazement, a charge almost... appeared in his hand. I could feel it. It was... different. While he set the charge and was prepared for the test, I turned to the man's Sargent. A deep metallic tone came through the maw of my mask.

"Pull 5325 from the line."
"Sir?"

Standing there, arms folded, my eyes darted to the side. Seeing the NCO in my peripheral vision. Yellowed eyes baring down upon him with hate. Clearing his throat, the NCO Sargent pulled forward and walked up behind the man who was performing his job. I could hear the command given with excellent hearing through various means.

"5325, pull out from the line. You have someone's eye."

 

[Aridius 'TK-1575']

ARIDIUS, TK-5324 'CRIMSON'

OPERATION CHIMERA COBALT
STORMTROOPER CORPS
501ST LEGION

Ignatius

"5325, pull out from the line. You have someone's eye." The NCO's Helmet-feed connected directly to Aridius', meaning it was a direct command rather than a Squad-level. This made Aridius' heart drop. To be a Stormtrooper was to be one of many, to be singled out and individualized meant that it was either a mistake occurred and he was to be immediately punished, or he will be pulled to an area away from higher-ups and punished even more severely. "Moving, Sergeant!" He said immediately, setting down the Thermal Detonators and picking up his Heavy-Blaster. It was a beast, Aridius had to have a special back-pack that looked into the Laser Machine-Gun to make sure it has enough energy to fire, but he was strong enough after all.

The Stormtrooper quickly, with audible thuds and shaking of his equipment, moved to his Sergeant. This was when he first saw Ignatius, the masked Inquisitor. This further made his heart drop. It was one thing to be reprimanded or called out by an Officer in charge, but seeing him made this a different matter entirely.

From immediate sight, Ignatius could detail that the Heavy-Stormtrooper was young, only around 17, but has seen action; marked by the small cuts across his armor- recent. Strong as well, toting the massive Cannon. Aridius, finally reaching the two, would quickly stand at attention and to the exact measurement. Doing the best he can with the machine-gun on him. "Trooper TK-5324 reporting, Sir!" { You're fucked. }

 

[Raus Garrat]

ORPHAN

POST #1
OPERATION: CHIMERA COBALT
AXE_TO_FACE
1ST COMPANY CORSAIRS

Tags: DECEASED Erskine Barran | Kolson Vrask | Knight | Aridius 'TK-1575' | Mav Ryburn | Sephi Karneh

| TARGET OBJECTIVE |

PORTCULLIS

//BLUE-3 TO SKYWATCHER, COME IN//
//SKYWATCHER ACKNOWLEDGES, GO AHEAD//
//CURRENTLY IN HANG-TIME, PRE-FETCH DATA OPTIMAL AND ABSOLUTE//
//SKYWATCHER ACKNOWLEDGES, CURRENT MODE OF APPROACH?//
//CONTACTING...//
//SKYWATCHER ACKNOWLEDGES//

//LET THE GAMES BEGIN//
​

Just like before, they hung in the air as if suspended there, high in the clouds as they observed below where units and their commanding officers began to commence their operations. This was a new experience to the Arkanians, as they hadn't participated in much conflict outside of the New Imperial Order's affairs, and even then it was small skirmishes and stand-offs with lowly, desperate types. With the addition of bloodshed and total war now under their belt, they seemed to take quickly to the climate of destruction and death; never once flinching at the sight of a blaster bolt screeching past their helmets, nor the intimidation of a Sith's hubris.

"This is Captain Garrat of the 1st Company Corsairs, I am currently seeking an audience with one Lord-General Barran in regards to PORTCULLIS. We have eyes in the sky, and are readying approach."

A random face he was to the eyes of the Imperial people, a hand already dipped in the blood that stained so many of them beyond the flesh. Inky black souls with a decreasing regard for the word "mercy" or how it's even applicable to the threat present among the galaxy. They needed to be that of steel, their conviction above and beyond whimpering and rhetoric, only their hands and fingers able to rip apart - to sink into their eyes so that they may become blind with agony. There will be no running away.

There will be no salvation, no truce.

There is only the bludgeoning of their skulls, and an axe to their spines.

 

[Onansi of Thyrsus]

BASTION - MAW ATTACK OF CORUSCANT
Rurik Fel - Lucina Centaris - Enlil - Willan Tal - Arjant Clevenger - Noel Strasza
Julius Haskler - Fiolette Fortan

---

---

​

Onansi did not even deign to give the 'War'lord of Adumar proper acknowledgement after he once again challenged his stance. What was the point? The man spoke of the Ashlan Crusade - a nation that hardly had the means to expand their own borders in months. Then had the nerve to speak of the Silver Jedi and Confederacy, the former who couldn't find victory against the assailants without New Imperial support. The latter was even more laughable. Had the Southern Systems even had a victory in living memory?

The Thyrsian Warlord was not surprised that he could not think of any immediately.

If Adumar's Warlord thought these were threats to worry about, the Supreme Sun Guardian had nothing else to say to him or the topic at hand.

His appetite for it was all but erased after the Iron Imperator's decision was made vocal. His only response, a heavy crash of his hand to the unsuspecting tabletop. His free palm cradling his cranium as he shook his head.

He felt the heat blossoming in his cheeks as frustration overrode his thought process. Again, the decision was called to do nothing. To let these rats get away scot-free with all they had done.

They may as well have broadcasted the Assembly to the entire Galaxy.

These meetings were becoming less and less purposeful.

Even worse, the Spectre's report to follow possessed little, if any actionable intel.

"And so?" Onansi said, raising his head. Once again, taking the opportunity to speak out amongst this wordless bunch. "We do more waiting? We 'leave it alone' and forget about it? Every moment Carlac remains infested by these 'withering' undead, is wasted purpose. Unrecognized potential, that sits, waiting." Sit and wait, like children.

The possibility of sabotage grew everyday. Every moment wasted was a potential loss in efficiency. He was thankful for his melanin rich skin, else the building emotional outrage would've been prevalent on his cheeks.

"Have we not the means to combat this, to quicken the process. What of these Witches from Dathomir that have been recruited? What purpose do they serve if not in this facet?" He was more knowledgeable on the Force than one could've expected of him. His studies of it had ranged from imbuing himself with the Gift, but he had ultimately settled with seeing himself severed from it permanently. "Carlac is a symbol of sedition, of this New Empire's weakness and its failures in correcting it."

Onansi stood from his chair, straightening his clothes.

"Not only does it represent rebellion, this... Inaction. This lack of fiery retribution is not only an encouraging sight to our enemies, but an unyielding stain on your predecessor's legacy... One that you share, Lord Fel. One that grows, everyday that this fxcking blight, is not erased from this Galaxy."

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

Post #3
OPERATION: CHIMERA COBALT
THE_WOAD
IMPAF-COMMAND

Tags: Aemilio Valaar Kolson Vrask Knight
Aridius 'TK-1575' Mav Ryburn Sephi Karneh Raus Garrat

<"All units converging on THRONE, this is Barran! Take and hold the objective, as you'll be expected to defend it soon enough. Make as many blind-spot defences as you can, and any areas likely breached in the impending assault will be defended from hidden positions further inside. Use all the ordnance you've got - and fight like the Imperials you're renowned for embodying in times like these. Lance One out!">​

'Looking sweet for probably another fifteen minutes or so, sir. Looks like it'll be easy tracking THRONE's attackers too.', Lieutenant Wyll cut in, leaning back into his chair so he could lean closer to the others and speak without the need to raise his voice. Lord-General Barran liked his subordinate's behaviour, vastly contrasting the behaviour that was expected of one with such warlike markings from previous campaigns, realising there and then that his transfer to IMPAF High-Command wasn't downgrading in subordinate-quality at all, far from it. Gladdened that the Imperial high-standard for the soldiering fundamentals had been retained remarkably well in the New-Imperial Army, especially in the three officers who'd stepped up to look active first, the Stormchaser was beginning to understand how the likes of the 501st and the Myrmidons had been able to inflict such losses on the Sith Empire, and especially in the years before and during the Stygian Campaign.

'Perfection, Wyll! In that case, sit tight an' settle into the observation caper for the now. I'll keep an eye on the top-down, so no worries about notifications an' such - just the important stuff until things lull again-'

<"-This is Captain Garrat of the 1st Company Corsairs, I am currently seeking an audience with one Lord-General Barran in regards to PORTCULLIS. We have eyes in the sky, and are readying approach.">

A highly-mobile reinforcement factor, is it? My God, what an auspicious day it's turning out to be!

<"Captain Garrat, this is Barran speaking! I'll have my subordinates mark out a plan of attack for you, but I dare say you're better off making landfall at the fortified landing-pad in the west. Just follow the heat-signatures an' oor control-tower can direct ye from there - glad to have you with us. Lance One out!">

'Vice-grip factor on THRONE now, an' by the looks of it, hard hitting outer-envelopment capabilities in smaller numbers.', Erskine drawled in his recognisably broad accent, to which all three subordinates turned with curiosity and raised eyebrows in silent reply, causing the Lord-General to stop in his tracks and consider the content of his rundown as a result. Taking a quick moment to himself to ready his wording, the Stormchaser quickly double-checked the holographic-table and made note of the approaching aircraft, nodding in appreciation of the quick-acting observation staff in the nearby control-tower before continuing,'These fellows, new though they are, have a fair deal of experience under their belts. This is more than common with this sort though, especially when these Corsairs happen to be of Arkanian descent.... Not too aligned with our warfare doctrine, but I know a Grand-Vizier who might benefit from that kind of steely resolve though.', sparking up a Faslanes cigar knowing well that this initial explanation was far from satisfying the curiosities of his staffers.

'You'll see it for yourselves when we get them on the Senate-Building relief efforts, I'll even bet money on it! However, we'd need to actually meet Captain Garrat first, wouldn't we? Ready the DTs, keep an eye on all the objectives an' trust in the abilities of the others.... I'll be back soon, just get their intel ready so we can get them in play as quickly as possible.'

 

[Ignatius]

OPERATION - CHIMERA COBALT
501st LEGION - STORMTROOPER CORPS
INQUISITORIOUS - SECOND BROTHER
| Aridius 'TK-1575' |

​

Both of the men returned from the position a mere feet away. Coming forward, holding aloft his heavy and rather massive weaponry that most men would find difficult to carry. Showed he could handle rather large weaponry with ease, and his tactile usage of the thermal detonators showed he knew a thing or two about them. More likely, he started here as a Heavy Assault platform for his squad. However, something was off about the man. Voice was younger, but mature enough to be in combat. He knew he was taking lives.

I made a point of moving my head up and down assessing him and his utilities. The Inquisition is to be known as a fearful, but stalwart group of individuals that got the job done no matter the cost. As when the strikes and attacks upon the Sith became fruitful. Mygeeto and onward. Showing that I took an interest into this particular TK, I could feel the raw worrisome, and acceptance of their fear.

The Imperial Order was a tightly ran system. You were really only called upon superiors for one of a few things. More often than not, it was negative in nature.

"Sarge, give me a run down of TK-5325."
"Graduated from the Academy, promoted to rank of Sargent, first official conflict was recently on Dathomir. Last member of his squad through the events. Transferred to new squad to replace a KIA Heavy Assault member."
"Thank you. Leave us."

At first the Master Sargent was confused. Unsure if he should leave a "Spook" with one of his men. Notably, pulling him from the line, for what seemed to be no valid reasoning. A turn of the head to meet the gaze of this inquisitor sent him along his way with a salute. I returned it to relieve him.

"5325, you were the last living member of your squad? Tell me what went down."

On Dathomir of all places. Kindred folk to... them. People who I am no longer with. Their Magics, and powers were quite unique in the galaxy where many relied upon the force, or natural talent. I could feel something plagued the man. If he was compromised, then he needs to be relieved of duty, or pulled away from combat to assess his mental facilities. Either way, I had an interest in this man.

One that may not be a healthy relationship for him.

​

 

[Rurik Fel]

I M P E R A T O R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
SOVEREIGN IMPERATOR
THE CORE PROBLEM
Iron Skin | Lightsaber
Enlil | Willan Tal | Caarlyle Rausgeber | Noel Strasza | Julius Haskler | Onansi of Thyrsus | Lucina Centaris | Fiolette Fortan | Arjant Clevenger

EMPIRE
​

He listened intently to the report given by his cybernetic Spectre. In depth as it was invaluable. Anything less for the amount of time she'd been on the Maw's tail would've been insufficient, but she managed to pull through. The news she brought forth was enlightening but in the darkness, there was certainly paths to triumph in the wake of this threat.

"They hold no value in their assets, they are all but marauders, of course they would not. Their realm holds no integral value to their ability to wage war. As the value of our Empire comes from what we can build, the value of theirs comes from what they can steal and destroy. Thus...it may come time to starve them of their potential means of raiding New Imperial worlds. Just as the Galactic Alliance has come to increase its presence in Wild Space, it may serve to work in our favor. They are the stop gap between the Maw and the Empire. Regardless, with the threat of the Bryn'adul waning into nothingness, the presence patrols we'd embarked into their space we must now shift to our western border with the Galactic Alliance and further, the Brotherhood of the Maw." Rurik says, inputing several keystrokes into a pad on the table to project the current political map of the Galaxy to illustrate his meaning.

"The First Crusade fleet, headed by myself and the NIV Ferrata will serve to reinforce the Empire with a port of call from the Hand of Thrawn to The Redoubt to be at the ready in rapid response and deployment in the case of an attack from the Maw...or the Alliance. If they begin a campaign of strikes against our Empire, they will be thwarted immediately and the only ones left of them will serve purely to bid warning to their depraved commanders of their folly." Rurik says, dragging the winged sword that served as his unit's sigil over the designated area before shifting the map to focus unto the deathly world itself, Carlac.

"As for our traitorous hive...the Reconstituted Seventh Fleet, the very same utilized to carry the 501st Legion, Tavlar's own...will do the honors itself. As of now they are seeing rearmament from Prefsbelt IV before they begin the jump to Carlac. In their armaments? They have been given the directive to begin 'Base Delta Zero' protocols of Carlac as soon as they are within atmosphere. Their armaments have been replaced with a particular order. Rhypalm. They will reap the whirlwind of their deceit, all organic life which had sprung from undeath, grown from the seeds of chaos- will see its end in the fires of retribution." Rurik states, cold as the iron skin he donned around him.

"The vital structures of the world should be mostly unharmed by the strike, but all of the lumbering undead and our Empire both purged of their disease. Once the Base Delta Zero has been deemed complete, the refugees at Wistril will be given the means to return and rebuild. But whatever mark is left by the traitorous Sith will be scraped clean from that world. The parasite 'Lord Halketh' all but erased from the history of Carlac and the history of our Empire. Carlac will remain under close monitoring by Knight-Inquisitors and Imperial Security Forces. If any breath of sympathy for the degenerate terrorist who once governed them emerges? They will serve the same sentence as the undead there before them. That is how traitors of our Empire will be dealt with from here on out. The Jedi may forgive their secrets being willfully given to the Sith by the hands of their own Councilwoman...but I do not forgive. Justice will always see its due." Rurik firmly dictates.

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

ACQUISITION: PART III // KOL HURO

Aiko Hayata | Gat Tambor​

---

---

A being who was both the galaxy’s greatest business mind and biggest enigma - Gat Tambor - sauntered into the conference room. He congratulated Tithe on his recent promotion and greeted Aiko.

“Yes, a, ah, necessary distraction,” he explained. The ascension had been unplanned - as Vice Chancellor, Tithe had been able to conduct his political duties around his business dealings. The new role would likely change that. His senatorial colleagues had tolerated his presence in the Chancellor’s pod knowing he carried Adhira’s favour, and her accompanying check and balance. An unapologetic Corporatist head of state would soon prove a point of tension to the government he now led.

“But, might I add, a timely one.” The wanton destruction of Coruscant presented boundless opportunities for the Trade Federation, tempered only by their imagination. The renewed factories of the seven worlds of Kol Huro would give the Trade Federation and its subsidiaries a manufacturing capability unrivalled throughout the galaxy.

“Now, I’m glad you’re here Gat. You seen, we were just pontificating the business climate on Atrisia,” he added. “Madame Hayata, as many before her, is discovering how crowded the market is. However, she had two, how do you say, boons - her resolve, and my support.” While no corporation threatened the Trade Federations iron grip on pangalaxic commerce, there was a reason they stayed on top - they were constantly on the lookout for new opportunities to expand. “And I was quite hoping we could make that our support. Atrisia is ripe for Trade Federation expansion.”

 

[Aridius 'TK-1575']

ARIDIUS, TK-5324 'Crimson'

D A T H O M I R > TOPRAWA
OPERATION BLACK SABBATH > OPERATION CHIMERA COBALT

ALLIES: Ignatius

PART 4

{ He could kill me and no-one would care. } Aridius listened to the Inquisitor speak, his voice followed by robotic-like clicks within his helmet that added further weight to each word. Each word drove through him like a knife, his entire career in the Stormtrooper Corps to be summarized within a sentence was certainly one thing, but it was the talk of Dathomir that got to him. The Inquisitor, who felt through the Force, could sense Aridius' sudden heartrate upon speaking of the subject. Something went down on Dathomir, and it changed him. The Stormtrooper's stance seemed to grow slightly more nervous, the hands that carried the Heavy-Blaster Cannon twitching, showing that he was offbeat. { Dathomir? Blast it, this nightmare never ends. }

Aridius remembered the arcs of Green Force-Lightning that cut through the first of his Squad,
Men that he spent the Academy with, Men whose screams were filtered through their Helmets.​

"The 501st were assigned to assault a well-defended hub of Nightsister Clans. We assaulted, and took casualties as they were dug in. My Squad were assaulting a group of small huts when we were ambushed by an Elder Nightsister and her followers. They were caught in some sort of Green-Lightning, burned." Aridius spoke with confidence and Imperial precision, just like he was taught in the Academy- textbook and to the point. But the Inquisitor's job was to see in-between the words, and he saw a now young man who was once a boy. "Being a Heavy-Assault Trooper, I did my duty and ripped them apart." Aridius remembered /just how well/ the Heavy Blaster-Cannon worked. CRIMSON MIST.

"After the Garrison was annihilated, we moved to executing the remaining Nightsisters who were too young or too weak to fight. The process was.. l-lengthy and took time." Aridius stuttered at the end, this is the opening that the Inquisitor understood to be the chink in the armor. The Stormtrooper was speaking the truth, that was a fact- but he was leaving something out. An instance. It must've been for good reason, for the Stormtrooper's heartrate elevated upon thinking about it. Her face never left him, that Nightsister that saw past the armor- and scene as Kolson shot her in the face never left him either.

BANG! BANG! BANG! Aridius remembered the summary executions of Nightsisters that still posed a
threat. Mostly those too young to fight, too old to be Imperialized. Too many rituals. They left it up
to the Heavy-Assault trooper, the Blaster-Cannon carved them like butter.
​

However, Aridius wasn't dumb either- he knew the Inquisitor would've caught on almost immediately, the stutter gave it away. Whatever the Inquisitor was looking for, only the truth may save him. "I was clearing a bunker, several Nightsisters tried to hide. Let off several bursts of my Blaster-Cannon and made a mess of the place. From the mass of gore, a Nightsister was able to survive. She looked around my age, and stopped to look into my visor. Something was off; it felt like she was connecting to me somehow, I couldn't place it. Could almost hear her voice in my head, trying to pry through. Like a bond. An Imperial Commando shot her in the face mid-way." He was describing a Force-Bond, but Aridius didn't really know. { You just sealed your fate, you should've left it, you should've ignored it. } Aridius thought to himself, the time between speaking and response made the silence louder than sirens.

 

[Caarlyle Rausgeber]

Willan Tal | Noel Strasza | Onansi of Thyrsus | Julius Haskler | Rurik Fel |

Carlyle Rausgeber had been atypically quiet during the proceedings. He had kept his own opinions to himself for once, but now upon Rurik Fel's directive, found the voice to command. "The Bastion Accord is weak without us." Rausgeber conceded to Lord Onansi, "But disullusion is hardly a practical measure. Not in the short term." He conceded steepling his fingers, and leaning back in his seat, "The Alliance, the Silver Jedi and the Crusade are all weak. They rely, quite firmly on us." He added, "They lack the strength of our government type. And the conviction of us as a leadership group to organise what is necessary." Rausgeber continued, "If I may be a contrarian of the Assembly for a moment." He offered a small smirk, and a bow of his head.

"If this Brotherhood of the Maw could so easily influence the affairs of the Galactic Alliance, then why can't we?" The Admiral Regent inquired, "The Bastion Accord still has strength. And we now have a renewed enemy which fixates its bloody gaze toward us." Carlyle continued, "The scars of Darth Carnifex, who may I remind you is still at large, are yet to be healed." He swallowed, and took a small sip from his glass of water at his station on the desk, "There is a bitter hatred for the Sith we can muster. Decaying, and dying as the Alliance and our other supposed allies may be, we can still foster, and use their ragged remains of a still formidible military, as means to bloody the Maw for us." Rausgeber commanded, "They lack our strategic skill, our determination. And once we have secured a peace from this Maw, their utter demise, we may look to the acquisition of territory. A dissolution of the Pact, only then. Once we have worn them down."

Carlyle's attentions turned to Carlac and the proposed demolition of all biological life on the system. Rausgeber allowed a triumphant grin to purse his lips, "If I may, milord. I propose that most rhypalm, be focused on the upper peaks of Carlac. The large glacial regions. Melting them, will cause an environmental cataclysm. An extinction level event for most, if not all life there, along with the biological husks the agent has so kindly described." He paused, "I understand the want of civilian rescue, but I must ponder, if it is worth it." He paused, and pursed his lips, "These, people were loyal to the Baron. They were his denizens, and I would not put it past them to be infected with some virus, designed to reek havoc. A poisoned chalice for us to take in, on the charity of us. Blindly willing to aid those who beg." Carlyle's eyes narrowed, "I think on the base notion, we should not aim for any rescue. Unless we are absolutely certain there none of these insurgents among them."

"As for the manufacturing assets," Rausgeber turned to Strasza, "I think, should the environmental cataclysm be triggered by the Navy's calculations, it would leave most, if not all industry intact. Although, I would advise it be brought to a world better used in our supply chain." He added, here was the self-interest, in all its glory. "Prefsbelt IV, for example could, with the relocation of major assets, easily compensate for extra shipments. Or alternatively Thrysus, Bastion, Nirauan, any number of worlds." Carlyle paused, "As it sits, if we were to reopen factories on Carlac, by my accounting we would need to both supply a workforce. Ensure they had liveable conditions. And then a steady supply of components, material and resources. Why begin a new line of supply, when there are a multitude which already exist."

"Let Carlac remain what it will now forever be considered: a tombstone to to the treacherous ego of the Sith."

 

[Ignatius]

OPERATION - CHIMERA COBALT
501st LEGION - STORMTROOPER CORPS
INQUISITORIOUS - SECOND BROTHER
| Aridius 'TK-1575' |

​

Dathomir. Hunting down the would be remains of the Nightsisters, and Witches. Witches, were a more light-leaning influence. Having harmony with nature and using it to their advantage. The Nightsisters were a different breed. Darkness, and corruption of the natural order of life, nature. Hunting them and bringing them to an end was a necessary evil to prevent further contact. However, the Witches, were very likely adopted into the Imperial Knigths, or were sent to camps as labor. Either way, this forthcoming soldier explained in detail of an rather personal encounter with one of these Nightsisters.

He could feel her in a way he was unable to explain. He specifically said connection. It wasn't like feeling a new sensation, it was a connection he made with the individual. Stating that the woman was around his age. It was personal to him. He felt guilty. He felt remorse for the death of this individual. Being shot in what would be considered by some, as a civilian being killed by a Military might. However, they were the next generation of Nightsisters. All had to be routed out. It was the very much necessary evil of the world.

Folded arms opened lightly to allow myself a thoughtful hand rubbing against the synthetic skin of my body. The nape of my neck rubbed gently as if to calm nerves. Being partly dressed with really only a robe bottom, the upper half from a distance looked clothed or armored, when it was just darkened black synthetic skin. The Maw of the mask seemed to speak of its own while my eyes looked into the distance for a moment.

"Nightsisters are corruption from their old orders and tribes. The Witches of Dathomir are what some consider to be... tribal healers, and sages. A nightsister corrupts nature, creatures, and even beings. This connection, was an attempt to sway you. To corrupt you."

Arms leaving the frame and holding down to my side, one of them indicated with an open hand to the personage that he was.

"Wearing Heavy armor, carrying enough weaponry to nearly be a one man squad, while watching all of her compatriots perish under the weaponry and technology of the Imperial Order? Fighting it head on would have been a foolish move. Reason it out Sargent. Her last possible breath, with physical actions of violence failing to save her, what other option did she have, than try to win you over to her side?"

Words meant everything to some people. Even more so coming from a position of power. Being a voice of reason to why this man felt guilt for being connected with her in some level, a level he had no clue he possessed, could possibly end qualms here and now. However, my thoughts were elsewhere.

This Nightsister attempted to connect with the Soldier. To create a bond through the force that few have. Its difficult to do without a previous connection. As far as his impromptu report from his Master Sargent, he was no Dathomirian. It leads me to believe that he really did have a connection to the force with this lass. One that may have... awakened something in him. However, it was at the moment, inert. I was not here to teach the force to individuals who had other jobs and responsibilities for. However, I would be keeping an eye on this soldier. If he showed progress completely upon his own, with little to no involvement from outside sources of the Imperial Order, and their Knights, then maybe, he had potential to be a Knight, or even Inquisition.

"The Force is a mysterious tool in which some use to their advantage. After effects of someone attempting to make a connection to you, and then dying during this process can cause some... pain. Pay no heed to it. It was feeble machinations of a woman about to perish."

​

 

[Aridius 'TK-1575']

OPERATION CHIMERA COBALT
501ST LEGION
'CRIMSON'
Ignatius

Listening to the Inquisitor explain what occurred was the opposite of a polarizing experience. It made sense- he /is/ a Heavy Stormtrooper and her sisters were piled because of him. A survival tactic, a cornered animal that tried to use everything they could to stay alive through a sliver of hope. That hope was ended by a Blaster-Bolt of course. The Inquisitor's words spoke truly in Aridius, it helped him move on from it all. It was nothing more than a trick of Witchcraft, she was nothing less filth than the others that stood against Imperial ideals. For Order to be restored in the Galaxy, this is what must be done.

"I understand Sir, nothing more than a play of witchcraft."

Aridius' response was final and to the point. { What else can you say? } He thought, understanding that the Inquisitor must be doing his job best. The Stormtrooper, Aridius, represented the harsh transition from the common identity to that of the ultranationalistic identity. After the mold was complete, he was to become a war machine. There were more dominions to be had, more conflict, and more invasions to uphold; strength and cold brutality were the names of the game.

There was significantly less stress visible upon the Stormtrooper, all the while the Stormtroopers of his Squad and beyond carried on their tasks. Thinking that Aridius was getting nothing but scolded and degraded for some mistake. Regardless of what the truth was, there was a change in the man. All he had to do was follow the task at hand now.