Invasion System Shock: BYOO | TSC Invasion of GE-held Coruscant Superhex Objective Three

[Arris Windrun]

TSC: Madrona A’Mia Tyrant 1 Tyrant 4 Anet Raine Kirie Neriah Calven Lina Ovmar Rixa | OPEN
GE: Artam Macek Galen Tagge Reiner Ghadi | OPEN

​

In the space above Coruscant, fleets and starfighters clash in a dance all too familiar to the many wars across the centuries.

Below, the Neti Professor, A'Mia Madrona, leads a team of acolytes and her friend, Lina Ovmar, in a mission to steal a tree of unassuming but great power.

All across Coruscant, Sith and Imperials clash in a bloody fight for the heart of the Empire and the spoils of war.

Summary: From the space above, to the nooks and crannies of the battlefield, to the seemingly endless levels of Coruscant's underworld, there are many opportunities to be found and stories to be told. How they define the Battle for Coruscant is entirely up to those who embark on these journeys... and those who might stop them. (Bring your own objective!)

​

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

Objective Three
Coruscant
Near the Former Jedi Temple
Tags: Anet Raine | Kirie | Makko Dres | Neriah Calven | Lina Ovmar | OPEN

"Tree Heist"
Objective: Steal This Tree
Gear​

Opportunism was a quality befitting all those that knew the way of the world, those who respected the natural order and were wise to the fact that chaos was meant to be taken advantage of.

Long had A'Mia coveted knowledge about the famed and mysterious uneti tree, rumored first to have taken root on Ossus an age ago and now made its home in the previously pristine Jedi temple. Always, the neti wished to study that specific organism in depth— given both its impressive longevity, but also the fact it had seen the rise and fall of numerous cultural practices, governments, even perhaps some civilizations.

Knowledge alone paled in comparison to A'Mia's ambitions today. With the turmoil sure to follow the Covenant's shadow spreading across the Core, she intended to make that priceless living artifact hers.

No wild gambit and grab for albeit rather niche power would be complete without using it as an opportunity to instruct the next generation. A'Mia wasn't shy about her ambitions, nor particularly secretive about most things. So the moment she'd caught wind of trouble brewing on Coruscant, the woman had put an invitation out to her esteemed associate and friend: Lina.

After verifying Lina's interest, the Professor quickly gathered up a few promising students to accompany them. Among opportunism, the neti also firmly believed in the power of diversification of one's power base. Though A'Mia and Lina were both powerful Force users with distinct mastery in their respective fields, fresh eyes were almost always a boon when troubleshooting was likely to be required.

"Alright, consider class in session," A'Mia cheerfully clasped her hands together as they awaited the loading ramp to descend.

Their entry into atmosphere and approach toward the old temple had been bumpy indeed given the growing lapses in air traffic control, not to mention the outright warfare that was beginning to breakout near the uppermost levels of the city.

"Oh, those of you that haven't met him yet— this is your new peer, Makko. He will be attending more Academy courses and functions. And this delightful woman is Lina. You'll do well to consider her like an instructor and follow her orders if you value your lives."

The information was shared with such a light, peppy tone that the woman might have been relaying something as pleasant as the arrival of a light rain on a fine summer's day. What she failed to mention was that this was Makko's first foray out of her laboratory on Brosi since she'd first requisitioned the young man from his former owners and ushered him back to health.

"Questions?"

The woman didn't wait, gliding off the simple cargo ship they'd arrived in, clearly intending to keep up their momentum toward the end goal.

​

​

 

[Severus Barran]

TAGS
Yuri Maji Vara Rasha Lilianna L'lerim

SYSTEM SHOCK
I

Y O U N G - L I O N

S H A M A N

​

PROTECTORATE SAFEHOUSE, IMPERIAL CENTER,
CORUSCANT, DEEP CORE TERRITORIES (904 ABY)

'Mike, its right there.'
'Huh? Oh... Thanks.'
'Thats what brothers are there for, now go and give our fighting siblings a hand.'
​

'All about the gestures with you, without fail.', the Novanian said before the two friends eventually chuckled together, though Michael was receptive enough to the order in the end. Walking off with a polite fist-bump between them, Shaman approached the two new arrivals with open demeanour as he greeted,'Glad to have you both here, by the way. Just call me Mike, or Mikey, whatever works best in the moment.', as he started setting power-packs into his own webbing. Casting a brief look back to the Holomap table, looking then to Severus and Raymond alike, Michael could not help but ponder on the differences in difficulty they would face in the impending operation before his attention turned back to the new arrivals, smiling then as he stepped forward to help them with their armour.

'I know those two are stressing, but-'
'I heard that, dumbass.'
'Just you worry about the plan, Sev.'

The young Shaman was wise to make such a suggestion, as every small advantage was needed, as the odds of failure were amplified just as much as those of success this time, though he was also right to urge for calm in the midst of their greatest gamble thusfar. Tensions had no place among brethren, thus the mutually-gifted right to criticise counterproductive thinking was always exercised to the fullest, and fortunately for all who would see it bubble to the surface, all three Imperials were deft enough with diffusion to bring each other to a serene simmer. With attention returned then to the Mandalorians, Michael concluded,'But considering the minds at work, and the distraction offered by our enemies - I'm feeling more than a little confident.', though he respected Severus enough to leave it at that.

As Barran and Senée hunched over their own respective Holomap projections, looking for every last possible advantage to exploit in the midst of the chaos, it was then that Karidim understood the true weight of their undertaking that night, the implications of the near-future for a realm that would land firmly in the sights of Galactic Empire's war machine. If their own Lord-Imperator had not been so resolved to face the enemy head-on, this may have felt off-brand for the Protectorate, but with desperate times came desperate plays for survival, and it was clear that the Tattered Regent was no longer of a mind to merely snap at the heels of his enemies.

'Those days have passed, this is true for all around the Core... But your hope is required all the same, don't forget.'

'Now, as for the plan, it might be time for Ray & I to just have out with it, so-'. the young Lion started, trailing off to broaden the scale of both projections for everyone's sake, to which the young Tuath grumbled to himself, though only because his gaze was drifting to a particular landmark at the time. No such complaints were there to be seen for the sudden honesty, however, as it seemed Raymond even agreed with this sentiment, seeing a need to come clean on the nature of the operation, of how it's only chances of success were hinging on the distracting presence of the Sith Covenant. Leaving Severus with no way out without admitting,'With what we have in mind, there isn't much planning beyond the points of shock-and-awe commencement. Its all-or-nothing from here.', returning to his own seat to gesture a yield of the floor to Serval, sensing that a better explanation awaited.

'Most of our work here has been looking for blindspot approaches, room to land, and cover for two low-flying starfighters.... Staring at these Holoprojections for the last hour, but we've been finding our means - and hoping the Covenant can keep our enemies preoccupied.'

 

[Raymond J. Senée]

TAGS
Yuri Maji Vara Rasha Lilianna L'lerim

SYSTEM SHOCK
(BYOO)
I

​

PROTECTORATE SAFEHOUSE, IMPERIAL CENTER,
CORUSCANT, DEEP CORE TERRITORIES (904 ABY)

'Oh, they will, Br'er.... You know they will.'
​

Rising from his seat, the young Tuath considered leaping straight into his part of the briefing, but chose instead to keep the young Dantooinan on the right track, effectively killing hubris in it's cradle with one precise reminder. But it was in the midst of finding the right words to explain that Raymond began to look a little farther ahead than the impending rescue-attempts, thinking of the planet's anti-aircraft cannonry, the starfighters and all the destroyers they were likely to encounter on their way to safety, even gritting his teeth at the mere thought. But despite that, the Tuath's hand rested kindly on the Dantooinan's shoulder, understanding of his friend's reach for understanding, fully-aware it would take some time yet to have him interacting in proper tactical manner.

Only a small, cursory correction would be required this time.

'Must be said - it'll seem like a daisy festival here compared to the mayhem in orbit, an' they'll surely be hangin' about when we try t'blast off into the sunrise. An' so, from here, we're white-knuckling our approach to the hyperjump, an' some more as we dock at our fuelling-station at the half-way point.... Food for thought, big fella.'

In a moment of personal wordlessness, Serval was hoping his insight would imprint upon more than just the young Lion, and with a room full of ears to listen, this would be heard and internalised by all in attendance for the briefing. As everyone there knew that many in their shoes had been wiser, and wise enough to avert disaster so deep within the Crucible, but the fact they all remained to endeavour was, in and of itself, a testament to Mandalorian bravery as much as it was for the Protectorate trio. 'Now, as for all three of our objectives here, the first will be the easiest.', Serval started, trailing off for a last moment of searching for proper framing, but soon straightened his posture once more to continue,'Thats the rescue of Lady Lilianna, by the way. We're talkin' low guard-coverage, high chances of success for this one.', bringing up the Holographic layout of the plan for the first rescue.

'Quick insertion, with a circling two-starfighter overwatch, lots of,"RAAAAAH!!!", to make the fethwits piss themselves! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!! YES!!!! However, thats the easy bit, though.... Not much else for this objective to call upon, really. Nout but raw, strategic creativity is required here, so use this opportunity to find yer rhythm, yer momentum an' such.'

​

It was in this sudden moment afterwards, and just as suddenly as the passing time, when Raymond's eyes began to draw into a brow-furrowed frown; already sensing the impending test of resolve, and by then (considering how long his friend had been imprisoned within the ISB blacksite in question) already sensing that damage of vile extreme had been inflicted upon Lilianna's brother, the due earnest would be embodied as if by a flash. Yet despite his own turning gut, the Tuath could not help but ponder one what all this would inflict upon the Dantooinan, casting a sidelong glance in Barran's direction as he prefaced,'Ashla knows you're gonna need it.... Especially for the second objective, right after.', hoping this would be considered by the operation's chief-coordinator most of all.

'Main advantage to employing the same tactic for the jail-break, oddly enough, is the fact their reinforcements will doubtlessly be fully-engaged, but its what we may yet discover when we breach our way in. Its more than just a prison, folks. An' knowing the ISB as well as we all do, we needn't make excuses for what we uncover down there.... But regardless, we press forward - an' we free a youth from malice.'

​

This one, Senée knew would be the objective that would make or break people there, fully-aware of the methods available to the Galaxy by then, especially after suffering more than a fair few in the process of acclimating for service with Scavenger PMC, thus was ever-cognicent to the fact that captives and penal conscripts would always fall victim to such things. Raymond would then show further wisdom in letting that hang in the air, letting the others dwell on the tasks ahead as he approached Yuri on the matter of the third objective, quietly drawling,'Mr. Maji.... With me, please. I have some advice to impart, an' a comm-link frequency to share.', leading the way with a bottle of Tihaar in his hand.

 

[Neriah Calven]

Tag: Madrona A’Mia Anet Raine Makko Dres Lina Ovmar Kirie

Brilliant. Another day of "learning". Another day of death, destruction, pain and suffering. Coruscant. A planet that was once seen as the highlight of the Alliance's territory before it had went out with a pitiful whimper. One could only imagine what would have happened if they had the strength to hold onto Coruscant. Would she have stayed at the Coruscant temple? Bright eyed, eager to learn and to grow, and pouring her head into the books she had always wanted to be? Or would her journey have continued onto the same path that she was on now? Dull, cold and lacking in any strong emotions anymore. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to be involved in more suffering in the Galaxy but Neriah had decided long ago that no longer mattered. The Acolyte did what she was told. That was all.

Her arms hung limply at her side, her sleeves obscuring her hands as the new "instructor" introduced a new peer. Whilst others might have glanced off in Makko's direction, Neriah's gaze lazily stayed ahead of the group, staring at the loading ramp, waiting for it to descend. No-one was spared a glance from her. The Arkanian-Pantoran Hybrid wasn't one that Neriah had ever spoken to, so that was understandable. Yet even the object of her long discarded hatred Kirie didn't have a single look given in her direction. Neriah was focused on the job and that was it...

Yet her gaze did flicker away at the mentioning of a new instructor. As much as the apathetic Acolyte did her best to hide amongst the crowd, to do simply what was asked...Neriah couldn't help but look in the direction of superiority. Authority. That was the trait that had just been given towards Lina. If she was to be an instructor, Neriah decided that she would listen to both her and A'Mia. What the other Acolytes said would be like static to her ears.

So as the loading ramp opened up and A'Mia made her way off the shuttle, Neriah simply followed along, silently without a question. Her arms continuing to limply stay at her sides. This could be her chance if she thought about it. Her chance to be done with everything that was going on. Though she tried to push that thought to the back of her mind. Do her job. That was what she was here for now. Plain and simple. Even if the job's purpose was ultimately...pointless in her eyes. Why steal a tree? It had no use. In a way, it was like Neriah.

​

 

[Kirie]

Tag: Madrona A’Mia | Anet Raine | Makko Dres | Lina Ovmar | Neriah Calven | OPEN

They landed near the old temple, where a bitter wind carried with it the dual scents of smoke and burned electronics. Rubble interspersed the paving stones, which were pitted in places from blaster fire. But, for the moment, it was quiet, even peaceful, though the lack of people was certainly rather eerie.

"Questions?"

Kirie cast a glimpse up at A'mia, the intimidating Neti Sith leading them on this mission. Babysitting, someone had called it, but that didn't matter to Kirie. She was just glad not to be on the front line. It would be easier that way. If all she was tasked to do on Coruscant was help retrieve some old tree, then she'd be all the better for it.

Kirie typically naturally drifted to the back of a group like this, but this time, it was very deliberate. She sidled up to Anet, her fellow Acolyte, ignoring the words of Madrona A'mia as she introduced the group. Instead, Kirie fell in step with Anet, the sardonic Acolyte who was pretty much the closest thing Kirie had to a friend these days. Anet probably wouldn't appreciate the interruption while their instructor was speaking, but Kirie didn't really care. She was at peace.

Surreptitiously, Kirie extended her hand to Anet, and when the girl answered Kirie gripped her hand loosely and began to trace shapes into her palm.

'Anet.' Kirie signed, drawing the shorthand for the aurabesh characters. 'You can understand touch-signs, right?' Her heart was beating very fast.

Her eyes flickered over to Neriah for a moment. She needed to talk to her too, but the girl seemed fixed on her task, concentrating on the job, not on distractions like Kirie. She pursed her lips. At peace. She would handle Anet and then she'd figure out how to talk to Neriah.

'There's something I need to tell you.' Kirie's hand brushed lightly against Anet's, barely noticeable. 'Don't react, okay?'

Kirie glanced nervously at the other assembled Sith. Had they seen anything, noticed she was communicating with Anet. She hoped not. While she waited for Anet's response, Kirie did her best to look attentive, and not give away the fact her stomach was churning.

​

 

[Tyrant 1]

OST: Shattered Skies - Operation

CRIMSON ACES DEPLOYMENT

Tyrant Squadron:

1. Emperor​
2. Nemo​
3. Ronin​
4. Cypher​
5. Consul​
6. Wiseman​

Lancer Squadron (5 Wings)

Talisman Squadron (5 Wings)

Vagrant Squadron (5 Wings)

Tempest Bomber Squadron (4 Wings)

Nomad Bomber Squadron (4 Wings)

AWACS Support:

• Marchion
• Bandog

Support Ship

• Viscount

Ground Forces

• Trailblazer Marine Company
• Outrider Armored Infantry Company
• Vagabond Special Ops Group
• Albatross Group Transports

Crimson Aces Mercenary Company briefing
30 parsecs outside Coruscant's gravity well

Crimson Command
« Listen up, this is the big one. We've received orders to move on Imperial-occupied Corsucant. Crimson flies under the upstart Sith Convenant's banner, so program your IFFs accordingly. »

Crimson Command
« Your mission out there is simple: devastation operation. Maximize the number of destroyed enemy assets of any kind. The more we reduce imperial fighting effectiveness the better we stack the cards in favour of success for the overall strategic operation for the Sith Covenant. »

Crimson Command
« As some of you might know, Coruscant is the Galaxy's center point. It's something of a big deal. That means: the galaxy will be paying attention to the outcome of this battle. Command and I see this as an opportunity for some explosive marketing, so I expect all of you to do your best flying out there. »

Crimson Command
« We're dropping into heavily fortified enemy territory. Expect heavy resistance, especially here, here, and here. The lunar region is outside our AO altogether. We drop out of hypersace at these stellar coordinates. Link up with friendly Battledragons in the AO and form up for further maneuvers. Use the pirate fighters as cover for your approach on enemy ships. I want to see short damage reports on my desk. Flight leaders assemble your wings and make sure everyone understands the mission parameters. »

Crimson Command
« Don't mess this one up, Crimson. Your financial future depends on your performance. Keep the credits in mind while you dodge imperial point-defence cannons out there. »

Crimson Command
« Good hunting. »​

// Immediately relevant:
Tyrant Squadron:

1. Emperor​
2. Nemo​
3. Ronin​
4. Cypher​
5. Consul​
6. Wiseman​

AWACS Support:

• Marchion

Tyrant 4

 

[Anet Raine]

TREE HEIST
Madrona A’Mia Makko Dres Lina Ovmar Neriah Calven

Coruscant... Anet hadn't been since childhood. Her family, the Raines, were among the staunchest voices of the Republic and the twin Alliances that followed. Once upon a time, the Jedi had sent one of their own to evaluate a young Anet for induction into the Order. Her father, a vain man, refused. Since then, any gifts she had in the Force were shunned.

Her nails scratched against the lightsaber at her side, and she looked upon the former temple - what was now the Imperial Palace. She held her chin proudly, delighted that she finally arrived at the place where Destiny always intended to take her. She hadn't even paid much attention to A'Mia... A fellow academic, apparently, but not from any university she had heard of. In her arrogant heart, Anet assumed her another hack until otherwise disproven, and the half-pantoran's metrics were harsh to say the least.

She fell into the back of the crowd for now, where she could watch this 'Professor' at work.

Anet jolted a little where she stood as Kirie's hand touched hers. She turned her head only slightly so the brunette might occupy her periphery. A subtle pink hue bled across her pale blue cheeks as the acolyte's finger traced gentle shapes against her palm.

"Kirie," she whispered, "I don't think now is time to fl--"

'Anet.' Kirie signed, drawing the shorthand for the aurabesh characters. 'You can understand touch-signs, right?' Her heart was beating very fast.

Oh. She exhaled and ran her tongue across the roof of her mouth as if to regret the final syllable almost uttered.

"I do," her answer carried a tone of suspicion.

"Just what are you doing?" Anet thought, but did not say. Instead, she focused on the signs.

Anet turned her attention back to the group ahead and pretended as if nothing was happening when Kirie asked her not to react. She tried as she might to reply without moving her lips, though she was no ventriloquist.

"Just spit it out."

 

[Tyrant 4]

SPACE OVER CORUSCANT

"Amidst the blue skies, a link from past to future. The sheltering wings of the protector..."
​

There fly the famed Hapan Battle Dragons, flanked by Nova-class cruisers with Miy’til fighters spilling from their hangars by the dozen and the dragons on the flanks laying out gravity mines to deter any ambush from a relief force. There too sail the Sabaoth destroyers of the Vahlans and a whole host of Blazing Chain pirates from armed freighters to Nagai Spider ships.

The blue whorl of hyperspace disappeared in an instant as the Crimson Aces jumped into system. A black void criss-crossed with flashes of green and red replaced it. And in the distance, Coruscant.

<There she is,> Cypher gasped into the line.

Wiseman:
<Magnificent.>

Ronin:
<Bogeys inbound.>

Marchion:
<TIE interceptors. Nothing but lunch money. Remember, the capitals are the pay days. Accelerate through.>
​

Cypher hit her afterburners, engines roaring as her B-wing rocketed forward. Around her, turbolasers and blaster cannons screamed past. A squadron of TIE interceptors roared by, but Miy'tils broke off to engage it.

The formation of Crimson Aces swung behind a Hapan Battle Dragon for cover. But no sooner did they take up positions then a massive explosion rocked the capital ship as a hypervelocity slug tore through its lower saucer, spraying debris and venting atmosphere.

"I sense my brother," Meliant's hand absently curled into a fist. "Spin up the hypervelocity cannons. Target his battle dragons first."

Cypher's astromech, Ar-Nine, let out a long whistle.

<Don't worry about them,> she grunted, steadying her breathing, focusing on the Imperial capital ships formed up ahead. <That's our objective.>

Behind Cypher's B-Wing, Tyrant Squadron formed up and prepared for an attack run even as the Battle Dragon listed in the background.

Marchion:
<Tyrant squadron... sweep them from our skies.>
​

Tyrant 1 Severus Barran

 

[Makko Dres]

TREE HEIST

Coruscant was not a world that Makko had ever seen before, but his ears and nose were quite familiar with it already. Ecumenopoli were not as unique as one might think. Cities and the people who live in them tend to be the same. When the city covers the entire world like an endless metallic scar, it’s even more noticeable; grime, smog, the smell of metal when it’s hot or wet—and the noise. Stars, there was so much noise.

Living among the Amavikkan had opened his eyes, so to speak. They impressed upon him and instilled a special sense for how a city lives and breathes. Coruscant, he noted early on, was doing neither of those things in great supply. But he was not here to care for the bleeding Imperial Center. Instead, he was brought along by Madrona A’Mia to capture… a tree. It sounded ludicrous to the young Sithspawn, who’d have much rather been sent to pillage the old Jedi Temple for relics and loot, but he bit his tongue and minded his behavior. After all, he could very well be in the slave pits of Nal Hutta with the rest of his adoptive tribe.

Makko offered a single, stoic nod to the rest of the students when he was introduced. He believed it was permissible for him to voice his thoughts, but for now, he kept quiet. He wanted to hear the mission’s parameters and instructions with clarity.

When they disembarked, Makko stepped in tow, minding his footwork but eying the skyline surrounding them. He noted a new scent in the air as they descended: war. It smelled like death, pain, and ash. The he turned his gaze to the temple, craning his neck to take it in. Such a large and historic monument made his chest feel heavy. It had changed hands many times throughout history, and should his new tribe’s efforts overcome the Imperials’, it soon would again.

Makko then looked to the instructors and students before him. He wondered if he would be accepted as one of their own, or if he was just an extra pair of hands. Only time would tell, he decided. For now, he’d watch and listen. That was the best way to learn one’s place, after all.

Tags: Anet Raine | Kirie | Madrona A’Mia | Neriah Calven​

 

[St. Thomas Barran]

TAGS
Galen Tagge

ABOVE THE GLOBE
(FLEETING)
II

D U S T B O R N

G L A R E

ABOARD THE MV: HEART OF MAR'ZAMBUL, EXITING LUNAR ORBIT,
CORUSCANT, GALACTIC DEEP CORE (904 ABY)

'We good?'
'Now hold on just a little longer, Lurdsi. We've got movement that suggests planetary focus.'
'Ah, yes. But of course.... So they expose their sides to us? Brazen, but I commend it.'
​

Sharing incredulous (though-mirthful) wheezes for a moment, the two senior Keshigs would only continue for as long as it would take to feel thankful they veered to the planet's far-side, and regardless of whether it was for timing or strategic positioning, it all culminated into veering wondrously close to reaffirmed faith before the first shot was fired. The Avatars were watching, this much they could guarantee, and for men who were otherwise-secular in their Nomadic leanings, this, in no way at all, impeded them from walking into ethereal encounters along the way. It was enough in the past to make leaps of faith akin to those of their Khan, following by the example of a self-admitted adrenaline junkie, a man who gambled his second life in search of glory, and often.

<"Drudges, release surveillance droids. Have them set for stealth-loitering, then follow us.">
<"Drudge Four-Three will obey both commands, Ulusar.">
​

Such events in their time had shaped the way they approached matters of willing acquiescence, recognising the truth that they would have been killed much sooner without it, as even in the last century of that millennium, the most-difficult foes to defeat were still those who were considered,"Unpredictable", in combat. Yet the signs would not stop gifting reasons to believe, and far from ceasing that night, a wonder of which the Zabrak could not ignore as he quietly announced,'Farn, I think I might have an idea.... But it depends on what they do from here.', sensing a spike in his own incredulity at the time.

'Well, shoot then.'
'If none of their ships turn to face us, I propose we just - leave them alone for now.'
'Huh?! I mean, besides.... Wait a sec- that might be the play to make here. Very nomadic of you, must be said.'

'I appreciate that, Farn. Took me a while to adjust in the beginning. But now-', the Zabrak replied, nodding with respect after trailing off, though his gaze quickly drifted back toward developments beyond the front viewport. By then, the incredulous mirth would soon give way to amazement, even admitting,'This might be the way to go, our sign to play Nomad after all.... Kark me, I half-expected them to turn and face us, but this? Wild, man.', manoeuvering well to sweep with the gravitational pull of the planet's outer-orbit. Almost as if by natural reflex, the sidelong glide around the back of the opposing fleet then continued on it's natural circular path, almost visible to the opposing fleet's viewports as the entire Mawite fleet pulled away toward the opposite side of the world.

'I don't know what's wilder, the supposedly-blind opposition, or the surprising merit of these Drudges at the helm.'
'Hah! True, the Heart is the only sentient-manned vessel in our flotilla, and that alone could make them the wilder thing.'

​

By the time they reached the curving western horizon, the Keshig duo were still completely gobsmacked by the reward for their leap of faith, but whenever it came to such mind-boggling outcomes, they had known for more than a few years that such things often escaped their mortal comprehension. 'Better to roll with it, to move with the wind at your back.', Dustborn muttered, monologuing aloud as the next plan gradually materialised in the mind, though he would soon see that Glare was of a similar mind that night. Even going so far as to mention,'You've come far since we first met, Lurdsillan.', with more than a hint of pride in his tone, it was becoming clear that his labours were finally beginning to bear their intended fruit.

'Lets circle around, lets gain some momentum.... But lets do it - solo.... Like Nomads, like KESHIGS!!!!'
'I see what you're doing here. Not bad, Farn. Not bad at all!'

See you soon, Covenant Fleet.
See you soon.

​

 

[Yuri Maji]

CORUSCANT | IMPERIAL CENTER
ALLIES: GE | IMPAF | Severus Barran | Raymond J. Senée | Vara Rasha
ENEMIES: TSC | Acier Moonbound | Gillem
ENGAGING: Acier Moonbound | Gillem (Next round)
GEAR: In bio

MY FIRE​

What Yuri expected when he ventured to Coruscant was a simple delivery job, some easy credits and a nice day out in his old playground. What he got instead was a few new friends and a considerable amount of stress.

His new friendship with the Imperials came as a hell of a surprise, but a mutual respect and the rekindling of an old alliance quickly solidified Yuri into the little group of misfits. What threw a spanner in the works, however, was Vara’s sudden appearance when he sent out a signal to call for reinforcements. It was too late. No ships would be getting in or out for the immediate future. No help would come.

They were cut off and his fury was directed at her.

”Vara… you…” A growl rumbled in his throat as he pinched the bridge of his snout. ”You should’ve karkin’ stayed with the ship.” He grumbled with an irritated sigh. There was nothing to be done now, they were all in the nexu’s jaws. For the moment, he completely set her aside to instead focus on Michael’s briefing.

Something didn’t sit right with Yuri as he looked at the projections and listened to his comrades’ comms. It wasn’t a total invasion like other attacks over the years. It seemed far more strategic. Sure, ships were shooting and troops were landing, but it seemed wrong to the Hound.

Targets immediately began to pop up in his mind. Imperial palace would be an easy choice, Sith always loved killing each other. But what about the rest?

'Quick insertion, with a circling two-starfighter overwatch, lots of,"RAAAAAH!!!", to make the fethwits piss themselves! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!! YES!!!! However, thats the easy bit, though.... Not much else for this objective to call upon, really. Nout but raw, strategic creativity is required here, so use this opportunity to find yer rhythm, yer momentum an' such.'

Raymond’s incomprehensible rambling drew Yuri back to reality. ”Fighter overwatch?” He spoke up. ”I can have Baby help you guys out.” He offered the imperials. Disengaging from the briefing, Yuri turned his attention back to Vara.

”I want you back on the karkin’ freighter. Or at least as far from the fightin’ as possible. You ain’t geared or ready for this.” He ordered her. No friendly voice or caring gentleness. Fire burned in Yuri’s eyes as he glared at the mutt.

'Mr. Maji.... With me, please. I have some advice to impart, an' a comm-link frequency to share.'

An ear flicked and his gaze shifted to Raymond. With a silent nod he stepped away, holding a finger up at Vara in warning. ”Raymond, listen.” He took hold of the man’s shoulder as he leaned in close. ”Whatever you guys do, I want you and Sev to make sure that harpy gets off-world safely. She ain’t ready for war.” He spoke with urgency as he raised his vambrace to link their comms.

 

[Hall Mannarra]

THE GALACTIC EMPIRE
LOCATION: Coruscant | Several Klicks Out The Imperial Center
DATE: -DATA CORRUPTED-
PRIMARY OBJECTIVE: Detect & Overrun Enemy Landing Sites | QRF
SECONDARY OBJECTIVE: N/A
ALLIES: THE GALACTIC EMPIRE | N/A [OPEN]
HOSTILES: COVIES | N/A [OPEN]
UNKNOWNS: Yuri Maji | Severus Barran | Raymond J. Senée | Vara Rasha | Open For More
GEAR: In Bio

An Ace Reborn​

Coruscant.

The crown jewel of the Core Worlds, was now destined to become a battleground for the powers that be.

A sight this particular soul was unfortunate to have become accustomed to, wherever his military career saw him deployed.

The man, barely a day older than twenty-one, bore the impossible weight of command upon his shoulders, standing tall at the rank of Lieutenant. Dressed in the jet-black tanker’s fatigues, his armor clung snugly to him, his helmet long foregone for a better, unimpeded sight in exchange for the protection the former had brought. His officer’s visor cap remained tucked underneath his left arm; a stone-dead, rigid prosthetic.

His gaze trailed the long winded, distant salvos of their triple A. He brought the cigarette, tucked between two knuckles, up and to his lips for a drag of smoke as he watched the bright green tracers zip into the skies at targets he could not quite see with the naked eye.

Around him, the garrison buzzed with activity as heavy equipment and vehicles moved abound for rapid deployment. Officers, commissioned and non-commissioned alike, barked orders for their fellow soldiers to follow; stormtroopers by the dozen sprinted in an orderly fashion, disappearing into the armored confines of Barran IFV’s for rapid deployment.

Several steps behind the young man stood a 70 tonne lifelong commitment; painted in a single tone of dark grey, light of the day shone upon the white stencil of a modestly sized Imperial cog on either side of the turret. The metal beast’s tactical number stood proudly next to it, two handsbreadth from the cog as per regulation; ‘221.’ The sun’s glare broke upon the numerous periscopes and vision slits of the Cataphract, the real backbone of any Imperial ground operation. The hundred-and-twenty millimetre smoothbore glowered back at the young Lieutenant as he turned to face his crew.

Wolfgang.

Schultz.

Aldrich.

Younger than Hall by a year or two, they did not wear the uniform as solemnly as he. The sight of their orderly fashioned, by the book and blindingly dutiful attitude, as they hastily ticked away boxes of the final preparations before battle, drew a half-grin from the tank commander’s visage. A reminder of his own humble beginnings.

But they all learned in due time.

The spent bud unceremoniously fell to the ground, and smothered under a casual stomp of Hall’s leather tall boot. His bootladen footfalls clacked at a steady pace on the ferrocrete ground as he drew near. Noticing the commander, the crew scrambled to attention in front of the tank, shoulder to shoulder. The Lieutenant took a moment to study their faces. The young crewmen stared directly ahead, their core tightening when they felt the piercing blue gaze of their commandant read into their souls.

He couldn’t help but see their faces on all three.

Stege.

Kale.

Litzke.

…The faces of men long met their untimely demise, with none other than himself to blame for it all.

He couldn’t help but think; would they too be taken from him?

“Second platoon!” Hall finally barked as he kept his gaze on his crew. “School circle!” His command saw the crews of three other Cataphracts join him in a semi circle around him. He held the gaze of each for a heartbeat, as he slipped on his visor cap; the small cap badge in the shape of the Imperial cogwheel shone bright under the sun. “Our people think our tanks are unstoppable,” he began. “It falls to us to show them, that they are.” His words stirred the dozen young men to hold their heads up high. The young Lieutenant allowed his words to remain suspended in the air for a second, before he continued. “Now hear this… Ours will not be an easy task. Our enemy is well trained, well equipped and battle-hardened. They will fight savagely to conquer this planet,” The Lieutenant spoke the truth in a breath.

“WILL we leave our people to their MERCY!” He finished with a shout; a rhetorical question that did not even carry the intonation of an interrogative, but the certainty of the contrary to the statement.

The dozen men shouted back in unison in but a heartbeat.

“SIR! NO, SIR!”

The Lieutenant nodded, a half-smile emerged from his flame-burnt face. “..We are assigned the role of QRF. Our mission is to converge on the enemy’s landing zones, anywhere they may be, and overrun them in a swift assault,” He filled them in on their orders.

“What’s our ROE, Lieutenant?” another fellow Tank Commander piped up from his left. Paul. He turned to meet him. “Do not fire unless fired upon,” Hall clarified. “While enroute towards enemy contact,” The Lieutenant added in the same breath. “Our people are trapped in every sector across Coruscant. Evacuation is not possible at this stage,” A level of regret was in the tone of his voice, before he continued with the details. “...We will have air cover, but it will be contested. Friendly infantry will meet contacts before we will. They will be our eyes and ears; heed them well.” His eyes looked to meet all of his brothers-in-arms, before he spoke. “...Remember your training. Check your targets, but trust your instincts.”

“For the throne.”

His right hand rose sharply, to accompany his following command with incisive hand signals. “SECOND PLATOON! MOUNT UP! MARCH MARCH!”

“SIR! YES, SIR!”

The platoon dispersed, haste in their step. Hatches thrown open as young men scrambled to fit inside and man their stations. Hall followed right behind his own; the young man climbed up the tank with one hand, in surprising ease. The Lieutenant entered the fighting compartment from his commander's hatch, right after his Gunner; Schultz.

The Lieutenant slipped on his headset under his cap and plugged into the intercom, before he reached for his throat mic. <“Wolfgang. Engine start.”> The driver barked a sharp acknowledgement through the intercom net. The exhaust belched smoke before long. <“Aldrich. Load HEAT,”>

<“HEAT, UP!”> The loader confirmed as he closed the gunbreech after feeding the shell.

<“HEAT, indexed!”> Schultz confirmed his FCS read the correct shell characteristics, ensuring gun accuracy.

<“Wolfgang, move us out.”>

<“Confirmed!”>

The tank lurched forward; its tracks as wide as a man’s torso, beat and shook the ground under them as Wolfgang steered the Cataphract. The sound reached thunderous before long, as the rest of the platoon joined them on a single column formation. In between the rest of the platoon, they placed the Barran IFV’s with a handful of Mantellska's sprinkled throughout the formation, as they resumed towards their hold point at convoy speed.

The command net came to life, as the Lieutenant’s platoon confirmed their readiness. Hall confirmed his own after a quick glance at his crew. He leaned up afterwards, joining his crew to look out from the unbuttoned hatches; their brief reprieve before they would eventually button up and seal their tomb.

…And Hall had found himself between the clashing of giants once more in his lifetime. He couldn’t help but speak of a silent prayer, as his icy blue glare subconsciously searched for contact. In his mind he shouted, begged, bargained, pleaded for the lives entrusted to him to be seen through to safety at the end of this, to any God or deity that lent him an ear.

Please. Not one Final Letter.​

 

[Tyrant 4]

SPACE OVER CORUSCANT -> ATMOSPHERE OVER CORUSCANT

"Amidst the blue skies, a link from past to future. The sheltering wings of the protector..."

Tyrant 1 | St. Thomas Barran | Galen Tagge | Rixa​

'This might be the way to go, our sign to play Nomad after all.... Kark me, I half-expected them to turn and face us, but this? Wild, man.', manoeuvering well to sweep with the gravitational pull of the planet's outer-orbit. Almost as if by natural reflex, the sidelong glide around the back of the opposing fleet then continued on it's natural circular path, almost visible to the opposing fleet's viewports as the entire Mawite fleet pulled away toward the opposite side of the world.

Cypher's B-wing burst through a cloud of debris left by an enemy starfighter's destruction. Her shields flickered. Her eyes narrowed as she squinted through her visor, glanced at the heads up display, then back to what was in front of her.

<I don't believe it.>

Marchion:
<Crimson Aces, you are seeing that right. Those fleets are pulling back behind the planet. You have new orders from the Covenant - push past the planetary shield into atmosphere and engage the enemy wherever you find them.>

Ronin:
<Finally.>

Wiseman:
<Hells yeah!>

Nemo:
<You heard the AWACS. Engines to maximum. We're punching through the shield.>
​

Cypher punched her engines and folded S-foils. Her B-wing rocketed through space. The gleaming jewel of Coruscant hung just ahead. She could see the slight flickering of the planetary shield. The plan was simple, she understood. Punch through the shield and they could freely target all of the assets the imperials had behind. All around them, the Hapan battle dragons, Nova cruisers, Vahlan destroyers, and all the rest accelerated as well. All of them pushing en masse toward the planet.

But what about the enemy fleet? Surely they'd be back...

Then Cypher saw it. Enormous conner nets deploying from the capital ships. Kilometers long and with enough charge in them to catch and fry enemy ships.

<Feth.>

Those nets were gigantic. She passed below a battle dragon and saw it dispersing more mines as well. Not the gravity ones that would tear a ship from hyperspace, but one of the magnetic ones that would clamp to it and blow it to hell.

When those enemy ships came back around, they'd be catching a face full of drifting conner nets and mines.

In moments, Cypher's starfighter pushed through the shield and she swung high over the ecumenopolis. <Target rich environment.>

Then she frowned, finally getting the big picture.

They could now open fire freely. So could their capital ships. But when the enemy ships came back, if they came back, they wouldn't be able to target the Hapans and Vahlans immediately.

Blocked by their own planetary shield.

And to push closer?

Well. Cypher guessed that was what the minefield and conner nets were for.

The dejarik pieces were moving. And someone had just put the Maw in check.

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Objective Three
Coruscant
Near the Former Jedi Temple
Tags: Madrona A’Mia Anet Raine Kirie Makko Dres Neriah Calven
"Tree Heist"
Objective: Steal This Tree​

When A'Mia had contacted her, she had same childish giddiness that she'd had the night they stole an ice sculpture from the display at the Order's Winter Gala, it was infectious and impossible to refuse, even more so when she explained the plot to steal the uneti tree. Taking an ice sculpture was one thing, a tree was a different matter entirely but between the two of them and the students she'd managed to rabble together for this absurd yet entirely educational field trip, she had no doubt that they would manage.

Lina dipped her head in a small bow, offering a smile as she was introduced, a chuckle escaping her at the thinly veiled threat of death at failure to obey her commands, delivered with such delight it might have been possible to misconstrue the truth as a joke.

Emerald eyes swept over each student taking them in quietly. She had not seen the latest batch of student the Covenant had produced. Not for lack of want but simply for lack of time. Her gaze settled for longer on Neriah Calven the young womans gaze locked on a distant point, present and listening but not entirely here. then there was Kirie and Anet Raine who were doing their best at pretending to be paying attention. That would cost them later not doubt. The only one that truly seemed to be in the room was Makko Dres .

If any of them felt this plan was ludicrous, they were wise enough not to voice as much. She waited until the otehrs had disembarked, bringing up the rear of the students and letting A'Mia lead. Her gaze lifting to the temple. It might have been impressive had it not fallen to such a poor excuse for an Empire.

 

[Vara Rasha]

CORUSCANT | IMPERIAL CENTER
ALLIES: Fellow Vod | GE | IMPAF | Yuri Maji | Severus Barran | Raymond J. Senée
ENEMIES: Covies | Anyone Who Stands Before Me | TBD

Exfiltration​

…How dare he?

The Foundling’s ears long had disregarded the small briefing the humans held. Her brows knit, the woman did not spare Yuri from her crimson glare the more he sneered and belittled her. She was not some pretty little flower with brittle petals and weak stem. She was a Mandalorian! Her skills may not yet matched his friends, and she was not blind in her courage and stubbornness to cast a shadow of denial to that fact, but she well surpassed him in her conviction; forsake no help to a vod who sent for help.

No. Matter. What.

A ride or die, she was.

And she came. She was here, for none other than him.

How dare he!

The harpy had answered his call, out of fear for his life, and this was his thanks…

”Raymond, listen.” He took hold of the man’s shoulder as he leaned in close. ”Whatever you guys do, I want you and Sev to make sure that harpy gets off-world safely. She ain’t ready for war.”

A low, rumbling growl ripped from her core as a snarl etched onto her visage. Her sharp white rippers clenched in her simmering anger. She could hear them. Faintly, difficult under the buzz of Imperial comms they had tapped into for monitoring; their voice, like a whisper under the monotonous thrum of the holomap’s projector as they exchanged words about her in a hushed tone.

But she could hear them all the same.

The woman waited for Yuri to take his leave, do whatever he needed to do with his mission he had to follow through on this growing battlefield. Her glare left him not once, until the safehouse’s door shut after him. The harpy’s glare shifted upon the three, smartly dressed humans surrounding the holographic display of their AO.

“If you think…” With a snarl, the Shistavanen Foundling began. “...You can get me to stand down,” The mutt leaned down, her hands resting on the holotable. Her gaze specifically found the one human Yuri chose to speak privately. Raymond. “You, are dead wrong.”

Her intent was clear, and her words left no room for the prospect of a bargain.

Not with this obstinate fleabag.

“...I will do my part. I will see this through,” She spoke with an incisive resolve. “I will stand and deliver. Even if he,” The harpy snarled. The fire in her eyes would be indication enough for the men to realize, that she referred to the Maji as her gaze held the men’s with a crimson glare. “..Would not have me do so.”

“...Am. I. Karking. Clear?”​

​

​

​

​

​

​

 

[Tyrant 1]

OST: Ghosts of Razgriz

[[ CORUSCANT: ATMOSPHERE ]]
[[ MISSION START ]]​

TIME 00:02:45
PTS 0001050
TGT GND-AA

The flow of war swept along the Crimson Aces and carried them through to new hunting grounds. The empty void of space gradually gave way to a deep, dark blue. Emperor spared a glance for the horizon. The stars dimmed and disappeared as that endless blue gently subsumed their light. The chaos of warfare waned beyond the atmosphere of this hemisphere. The Imperials seemed preoccupied with more pressing matters elsewhere.

The relative serenity of atmospheric entry didn't last long. Emperor's radio filled with new chatter as their AWACS operator patched them into the wider landing force comms system.

FRIEND.G
« Final preparations for landfall. »

FRIEND.G
« Taking heavy anti-air fire! Get some guns on those positions! »

FRIEND.G
« Unit Q from Aurek Point. Ingress route and landing area secured! »
« Unit C and O forward! »

FRIEND.G
« We need backup. Where's the backup? »

FRIEND.G
« They only brought two bunker busters? »​

The Heads-Up-Display lit up with orange and green lights, each one denoting a friendly or enemy unit. Target rich environment, indeed. Emperor set course for a Highrise district that was particularly densely saturated with hostile green targets.

Nemo
« Go for their SAMs and Anti-Air lasers. We can mop up ground assets afterwards. »
​

Emperor's cannons lit up. Red bolts rained onto the roof of one skycutter for several seconds, saturating the AA position with destructive energy bursts, up until the moment Emperor's fighter blew past the rooftops and down into the narrow gaps between cutters. A rain of debris followed him from the wrecked rooftop combat position.

AWACS Marchion
« Follow Tyrant 1's example. Use those skycutters for cover. Don't reveal yourselves until you get a clear shot at one of those positions. »​

Tyrant 4 St. Thomas Barran Galen Tagge Rixa

 

[Meliant]

​

Location: Federal District - Imperial Palace - Control Room
Attn: St. Thomas Barran Redmond Tyrant 1 Tyrant 4
CC: Hasuras Na-Gerra

Planetary Shield Generator: Online | Imperial Palace: Secure | Hypervelocity Cannons: Online - Firing​

Continued from here…

The command center of the Imperial Palace was well insulated from the affairs of the unfolding war. When it suddenly rocked violently, Meliant snapped around. Suddenly the phantom come to haunt him was a forgotten. "What was that?"​

​

At a different station, several nervous functionaries were sweating over a tactical display and did not answer him immediately. Meliant prowled over to them. "What was…"​

​

"Capital bombardment, m'lord," one of them croaked. "A sabaoth got under the shields. They're targeting several districts around-"​

​

"A saboath!" Meliant roared, "My bloody bastard brother…!"​

​

The functionaries cringed. More invectives were sure to follow, only Meliant's hollow eyes caught the display the functionaries had been crowded around. It told him a far more gruesome story.​

​

He shoved past them to get a closer look. "Wait… They're all in the atmosphere! They're swarming the planet!"​

​

Well, none of them had much to say about that. There was no good answer to give. Enemy capital ships and fighters now had their run of the Federal District. Traps had been deployed on their way in to harry any attempt to go in after them. Important things were being blown up.​

​

Fighters which were supposed to be held in reserve had already been scrambled and were rushing in to staunch the bleeding. It would not be enough.​

​

How had this come to pass? The functionaries clued him in: Mawite ships had drawn back. Basically let them through. One functionary was more of an expert on Mawite tactics than the others and advised it was likely a feigned retreat, intended to lure the enemy in and then crush them.​

​

"Yes, crush them," Meliant echoed. "Like we did at Chandrila?"​

​

An icy chill took hold. Painful silence. Meliant was hunched with fury, coiled up and ready to explode. Chandrila had not been a good day for the Emperor's army, navy, Elite… The whole operation, really. Top to bottom.​

​

"Ah, the old 'run away and forget about it' technique," chimed in the phantom tomb-knight, still relaxing a little ways off behind Meliant. "I thought that was one of your favorites, Amoun."​

​

Meliant glared balefully at him. No. He wouldn't trade barbs with the dead. It was merely a distraction. Always in his most stressful hours, these things showed up.​

​

"Find a hypervelocity cannon with a clear shot and blow that saboath out of the sky," Meliant hissed. "And put me through to those two savages Barran left in charge of the fleet."​

​

​

---​

The hologram of Meliant appeared before Dustborn and Glare without warning. Several overrides and priority codes usually only employable by the Emperor had been utilized. Yes, Meliant had been in the throne room and minted some code cylinders for himself. It hadn't been sanctioned. What was literally anybody going to do about it now?​

By way of polite introduction, Meliant immediately began screaming at them.​

​

"Listen to me, you pair of gibbering assholes: your fleet was put there to keep! Them off! The fucking! Planet!"​

Meliant emphasized his point with several wild, manic gesticulations, coinciding with his punctuation.​

​

​

"So help me, if you don't clean up this fiasco, I'll have you hanged as traitors! Traitors!" ​

​

"COME BACK HERE AND SHOOT AT THEM, YOU FOOLS! KILL THEM!"​

​

"NOW!"​