Skirmish The Calling | Frigid Dawn | NIO vs GA

[Loske Treicolt]

OPERATION: WAYWARD LIGHT

YINCHORR // IMPERIAL ROYAL GUARD ACADEMY //
FRIENDLIES: // Maynard Treicolt // Zaavik Perl // GA
UNFRIENDLIES: NIO // Seydou of Thyrsus // Meshla Detta // WARRIOR CASTE //
ENGAGING: Théodoro
F.W.T.B​

<"I've got it.">
<"Loske, keep the push going...I'll be back...only after I pacify Vizsla.">

<You’d better.>

A knowing grin crept between her lips and she shook her head. It was a subtle movement, born out of the ultimate concession that there wasn’t an alternative. There was no world where Treicolt would back down. Especially on vocal request. Any sort of submission would have to be beaten from his bones. A thought not worth pursuing. And there was no room to get lost in deniability and plausibility. A sharp bark snapped her attention from the exchange between Mandalorians.

"I have never fought a Jedi. Prove you are worth the legends."​

Someone gunning for glory, driven by the lust of legacy.

The man that lurched at her looked entirely made of metal. Glistening in gold, it shone eerily in the ever-fluctuating lighting of the plasmic ripostes. Unthinking instinct took over. The attack, hasty and powerful, turned into something slow motion. Life and death were all the same within the Force; there was nothing to hide from, nor be distracted by. Especially since Maynard was now intentionally charging against the former friend. Instead, she could perceive the path of the scythe before it was swung. Her body required no help from her conscious mind to angle her lightsaber to protect her strike zone. She caught the blow, feeling the jarring up her arm. It was a weapon made for longer range –– she’d have to keep her strikes tight. Sharp, short moves.

In this intimate proximity, her reflection in the visor of the power suit was plain to see. The position was held enough for a brief exchange; her suit’s kinetic reinforcements compensating for where muscle mass failed. But not so long that she couldn’t manipulate his strength against him. It would break her arm if she was trying to catch something with that much force.

<I’ve nothing to prove.> She leered. Their motivations couldn't have been more opposing. <But you’re in for a treat.>

Her pivot was rapid, directing her blade away from her with a push that coupled with his momentum. It gave her a moment’s grace to realize the protectiveness the Guardian felt for the duel. Folly. Looked like her charge would be short-lived; he’d probably chase her down.

Amon’s presence was only one of several indications that this was more than just a random third-party behind the insurgency. The Sun Guard disciple only served to crystallize her apprehensions. The last time these sorts of allies had been united had been Bastion. Sharing the same march as The Alliance. The pit of dread in recognizing the Imperial foundation grew heavy in her stomach. They’d need more than the account of prisoners, they’d need hard proof. Data.

<Zaavik! The Wolfpack will keep the charge. We need someone sneaky to get on the inside. Check the comms, materials, confirm who’s behind this.

Can you help? Some of the troopers can assist. Or at least see if anyone else is on it?> Further conversation or trying to coordinate comms would be distracting.

Her follow-up to the Sun Guard came quickly -– the time from her original dislodge was only an interval required for her to forward on the suggested instruction. Her vambrace’s scope fixated on the extension of the weapon between the hooked bills on either side, the grappling line snaking out through the air to wrap around the rod and lasso him back to her, seeking control over the weapon while she prepared to intercept the warrior once more with those plotted short, controlled strikes once he was in proximity again. Her first objective would be disarming and she’d figure out the rest shortly after.

Meanwhile, the troopers of the 104th Battalion were somewhat used to the attention Jedi garnered. Their glow sticks tended to draw unique challengers that left them in isolated engagements, which gave the Alliance soldiers the space to operate on their mission unencumbered by anything other than the...calculated droves of opposition.

 

[Tavius Muuaji]

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
257th Storm Commando Battlegroup
OPERATION : IRON DAWN
Allies: NIO | Yinchorri Warrior Caste
Engaging Hostiles: Intelligentsia | Gala Geert
Equipment: VT-Grav Armor - VT-Bulwark - Sohei - Mandalorian Energy Shield (left forearm)

​

The grav glove was almost more effective than he had been expecting it to be.

The hostile combatant was dragged across the ground, seemingly surprised as she used her very own blades to try and slow the progress of her being pulled into even closer quarters.

While forcing the woman further down, the 'X' she had formed with her blades would only last for so long.

Finish this.

The thought flashed through his mind. Right fist clenching as he prepared to drop his fist into the side of the womans head. But before he could even lean in further to his assault, a grunt was summoned forth from his mouth, Gala Geert 's boot finding his lower abdomen and sending him stumbling backwards, safe from the dangers of the heat of the jetpack as he regained himself.

Two blades.

Once the assailant straightened and came towards him again, his body extended outwards. Using height and longer reach, his left hand protruded outwards. Close quarters knife fighting in dimly lit alleyways in the Coruscant Low Levels warned of the dangers of slashing against a prepared enemy. The maneuver was completed as he extended his left leg forwards, the extension of his body bringing the edge of his vibroblade angling right towards her right armpit.

Get rid of one.

 

[Djorn Bline]

C A L L I N G _ T O _ T H E _ N I G H T
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
GHOST VIPERS
OPERATION : IRON DAWN
D I S S I D E N T _ A G G R E S S O R

Waiting for a storm to rise
​

Djorn was trained for situations like this, but with so much of his time specializing in the arts of unconventional warfare and other aspects of tactical espionage he came to realize he hated being the one on defense. It seemed to be more exhausting than those who fired the first shot, especially when needing to salvage the operations they carried here in this ancient installation. He was a Snake; a silent and patient killer with fangs that mirrored to the silent dagger piercing through ribs for the blowing strike. He could grow hungry for as much as he wanted to, just as long as he saw an assignment completed that satisfied his superiors.

But now it was time for the Snake to expose himself and reveal his own fangs to the candles of the Starbird. Not in the position he'd like them to be in, but he'd make what he had.

Several of his shots found their mark on the airborne Yinchorri that trespassed the compound, their bodies scarred by the particle beams from his Sabrewasp. Something that made Jedi and Sith alike fear when facing down the barrel of a weapon of its class. More was sure to come outside the walls of the compound, where did all the hostile artillery came from? Land vehicles and aircraft were in the mix now, he had a feeling the numbers were something close to a battalion. Hopefully less.

But his eyes caught something else in the skies. It wasn't the flight of X-wings or the incoming waves of hostile Yinchorri. Another wave of hostiles, all riding on speeders and swoop bikes that the lights of the compound and his own sensors made clear the more and more the bikers sailed in the sky. Red trails of crimson fired, inaccurate shots making their damage on whatever it found. Djorn wouldn't bother firing back, not until they got a bit closer. A waste of ammunition it really was. Anyone with a sniper or artillery would do their job in picking these birds up from the sky. For now he'd keep himself here in the grounds, not diverge himself to the walls or its watchtowers. Focus fire on the coalition of Intelligentsia and Alliance soldiers that came barking on the wrong tree.

ALLIES | NIO | AIF | KRIG | WARRIOR CASTE | Konrad Bolter
ENEMIES | GA | INTELLIGENTSIA | Oceiros Sunstrider

 

[Cartr Arkhis]

May The Force have Mercy Upon Our Enemies, because We Won't!
Objective: Support Planetary Forces in Skirmishes from air and destroy hostile Fighters

<Moved During Night again from Shithole to Shithole are we some sorta emergency Squadrons?>
<Delta Shut up and Concentrate on job we still got much to do here>
<Both of you should concentrate on MIssion instead of Arguing about it!>
Cartr Underlings as always were Arguing during mission about things like this but today they were extremly anoying. They receivied the orders, and orders should be Executed, of course they were almost done but this Noise in Comunicator still was unbearable. Then he saw Hostlie Batalion at ground atacking friendly Watchtower, he followed easiest way to deal with it.
<Bombers drop Thermal Bombs on this Tanks, 203 squadron take out this speeders and Infantry on front with air raid blaster fire>
Even thou his Subordinates were still arguing they still followed orders and after a while he saw explosions among enemy forces, then he continued to observe battlefield in look for job

After a hour of regular striking on Land forces finaly enemy fighters staretd to treat them like seroius threat, but in fact that was not important 191,199 and 203 squadron just used regular used by them tactic to deal with hostile X-Wings: Fire missles, orbit around enemy and Crush him by tearing apart his fighters in pieces with Blasters.

His job was easy, enemy lost Aerial domination, on surface he also had big loses caused by artillery, bombs and Raiding, for a moment he tought this is too easy but then he came back to reality and continued what he was doing: Killing Enemies without mercy and Showing them how hopeless right now they are...

 

[Daros Karmann]

I_AM_THE_DISCOMAN//PLAYING_A_RAGING_FIRE
SPECIAL AGENT DAROS KARMANN
OPERATION : IRON DAWN

"Speeders-"

His words came to life as a speeder smashed into a perimeter tower. Daros closed his mouth and shook his head, slightly perturbed by the rush of activity around him.

The skies darkened with more flying Yinchorri, and radio chatter was a chaotic mess. He switched it off to spare himself the headache, and fired off a few rounds at the approaching reptiles with impunity. It reminded him of shooting clay pigeons, except the pottery never screamed when shot at. Some fell, others scattered to pick off the defenders.

They didn't interest him as much as the sight of enemy forces making a dedicated push for the compound. A buzz from his belt confirmed his suspicions too- the enemy were actively hunting for intel. Thankfully he had already wiped the data servers clean and burned the paperwork, including the disposal crew. He was sure- almost guaranteed- that whatever the attackers would find couldn't incriminate the New Imperial Order, much less his own organization.

But he had his orders, and that superseded anything his gut told him. Still aware of the looming arrival of the speeders, he flagged a squad of friendly Yinchorri and quickly explained the situation, loaning them his rocket launcher as a sign of good faith. In truth, he had very little faith that they would survive the onslaught headed their way, but theirs was a necessary but ignoble sacrifice. No one remembers the many, but the few stand out in history, after all.

Whilst his guinea pigs set up a defense against the speedsters, Daros went back into the base, reloading his weapon as he passed by corpses. The battle was heating up, and he wanted no part of it than was necessary. Confirm all incriminating evidence was disposed- again. Eliminate or otherwise incriminate another group for the misdeeds occurring on this damnable planet, and he had just the right group to point the finger at. . .

He passed by the records room, noting that it had been untouched. He peaked in, just in case, and for added insurance, set an explosive surprise by the door. Snipping the thin wire, his ears pricked up to the sound of boots trampling in the hallway. He looked up and saw the moving bodies of more Yinchorri moving to aid the fight.

"Tsk." With the room booby trapped, there was only one other room he could think of that had any other evidence left- the security room. With its independent intranet and CCTV footage, any dumb coordinator walking around without some sort of face cover could be easily traced back to the Order. Now, Daros didn't like to think ill of his colleagues, but there was always a chance, no matter how small, that a crumb could lead to a face full of humble pie. He slung his scatter gun and quickly dashed for the security room, located at the second floor of the largest building of the compound. Where the fighting was indubitably heaviest. Either their enemy knew exactly what they were doing, or it was merely coincidence.

He hugged the wall at the stairwell of the 2nd floor, pausing to catch his breath. No, it can't be. Regardless, Daros pulled out his tablet and deleted everything on it- names, numbers and files. When it was nothing more than an electronic husk, he threw it to the floor and smashed it, crushing the wiring and circuitry under his boot. He double checked his own armor, making sure there was no identification- no numbers and no name. Satisfied that he was clean and faceless, he donkey-kicked the stairwell door and cleared the hallway with a sweep of his scattergun.

Empty, for now. But the 2nd floor had various other rooms that clung to the corridors and hallways leading to the security room, located conveniently in the middle of the floor and away from windows. If there ever was a place for an inconvenient ambush, this was the place.

"Come on out," he murmured, cautiously advancing towards the security room. "We can have a lil' talk, you and I."


// ALLIES : NIO, AIF, KRIG, WARRIOR CASTE | Meko Sorrin Tavius Muuaji Seydou of Thyrsus Konrad Bolter Major Strasza​

// ENEMIES : Loske Treicolt , GA, INTELLIGENTSIA, 104th Battalion Troopers | OPEN​

 

[Andan Voleg]

Location: Observation Tower, Yinchorr
Objective: Iron Dawn - Call in Artillery Strikes
Allies: NIO Unmarked Imperial Units | AIF | Warrior Caste | Open to Interaction
Enemies: GA | Intelligentsia Caste | Gala Geert

"Artillery adds dignity to what would otherwise be an ugly brawl."​

Andan grinned as he saw the airborne Twilight commando hit the ground but his moment of celebration soon ended as the entire shook and a loud creaking could be heard. The commandos explosive hits had dealt more damage than Andan first thought. He felt everything began sliding to one side as the tower began to collapse forward onto the battlefield and he braced for impact. The tower hit the ground hard and if not for the durasteel barricade he would've been reduced to nothing but mush. While on the floor he took a deep breath grabbing the radio pack's handset. "Shelldrake 1-1... Observation tower down... Observer Bravo 2-3 temporarilt offline." he said and the voice of the communication officer soon replied. "10-4 Bravo 2-3, watch yourself out there."

Andan lifted himself through the sideways door frame of the tower and had landed right in the middle of the battlefield. The scout was way out of his depth. He took his carbine and began laying down fire from the top of the tower. He looked to where it had collapsed and through a series of durasteel beams which once held up the tower layed out a very small path back into the compound. If he could get back in and then detonate it there's a chance he'd be alright. As he fired he made a dash over the thin durasteel beams, being an observer the heaviest thing he wore was the radio pack which worked well for him. He only prayed non would notice him moving.

 

[Cartr Arkhis]

Skies are clear

Squadrons patroling sky over the battlefield as usuall met minimal resistance. From time to time firing at enemies on surface of planet, most of 191,203 and 199 squadron Pilots were bored.
<have we destroyed all Hostile forces here or are they fearing us?>
<I guess second one>
<this is absolutely most boring job we got assignet to>
Pilots continued to complain the mission but Catr instead focused on something unimportant from his perspective: Where suddenly Enemy Squadrons are. for over 2 hours his Underlings haven't spoted any fighter, bomber or even Transport ship with reinforcements or munitions. This was at least weird.. Sound signalizing new orders from comand ended his reflection about this: they got new orders:
\/ ,,Squadrons: 191,203 and 199, are ordered to go to Star Destroyer for Extraction and Transport to Huk"/\
He followed the orders adn lead his squadron to Hangar.
<this is fourth time we are moved from one front to another>
<yeah,yeah now shut up you all are complaing too much>
"they should be gratefull" He thought meanwhile landing in hangar. Skies over Frigid were clear for some time now they can leave job to less Elite forces and do job somewhere else.

 

[Théodoro]

// THEO // THYRSIAN SUN GUARD // IN SEARCH OF GREATNESS
// OBJECTIVE // DUEL A JEDI // TEMPT FATE
// FOCUS // Loske Treicolt
// REGALIA // IN BIO // 2x Wrist Rockets
// THEME // AUTOMATIC // DJ RICKY LUNA, VO WILLIAMS

The Jedi caught Theo's blade with hers before pivoting away, deflecting the force of the blow. He retreated four paces. That result was disappointing, of course; he could hear the compensation of her armor when she'd blocked, but still there was no sense of otherness. A frown crossed his face; already he sensed a familiarity to the situation. The Jedi went on to order around her companions, barely paying attention to Theo for a long few moments. Yes -- this was just as Rodia had been; where Madalena Antares had failed to meet him properly. He considered striking the woman down while she was distracted, but he refrained. The Jedi were meant to be honorable. He was willing to give her a second chance.

In her eyes and voice he could see an inner ferocity and strength. These Force users had an advantage over most in the galaxy -- they had a strength beyond understanding. All they had to do was take it. Theo lacked such abilities, but he fought them anyways in hopes that someday he'd meet someone able to destroy him with ease.

Why did she hold back? Her movements were practiced; she looked too young to have the years upon years of experience necessary for that kind of skill, so he suspected flash training. It wasn't perfect, perhaps, but it was enough. She was a Jedi, too. He'd seen the power of the Force first hand, but here she was barely using it as far as he could tell. He needed to see it with his own eyes.

His helmet retracted just as the grappling line wrapped around his weapon. For a moment his pupils widened. Was this it? Was she about to show her strength, cut him down in a single strike? Of course he needed to continue fighting, so he held onto his weapon, using his own strength to keep it in place. It was then that he realized the disparity in physical power that still remained -- even with the pull of the grappling line, even with the power of her armor, even with her own strength, she could not overpower the young Sun Guard. His grip tightened around his weapon.

"I expected more, Jedi."

He wrenched his glaive back to his right, using the tension on the cord in an attempt to pull her off balance. With a slight twist the weapon seemed to come undone, splitting into two halves and allowing the grappling line to release; the half in his left hand in a reverse hold. The Sun Guard stepped forward into range to meet the Jedi. The blade in his left hand thrust towards the Jedi's throat. Even unbalanced, he expected her to block the thrust, but now he had two blades instead of one. The half in his right hand swung around, aiming for the Jedi's left side. If her arm was still up from the grappling line he hoped to cut into her exposed torso; if not, he'd settle for the arm.

 

[Zaavik Perl]

S H A D O W
THE GALACTIC ALLIANCE
OPERATION: WAYWARD LIGHT
I N V I N (S) C I B L E

​

Maynard fired, Loske advanced, and so the dance began again. Viridescent plasma arced and twirled against the hail of blaster fire. Condensed gas deflected from the blade's magnetic enclosing, leaving the smell of burnt tibanna thick on the air around him. Every step complemented the wide swings and batting away projectiles. Leans, skips, and slides all came together into one fluid advance. Zaavik had to focus on not spacing out into another disassociative autopilot. Going through these motions again felt tedious, dull, even with all the adrenaline flowing through him.

Mandalorians and... Thyrsians? New Imperials? So there was some kind of irony in his previous inquiry. The Force washed over Zaavik's exterior, bending the light and rendering him transparent. He became ghostly haze rather than a fully defined, visually tangible target. Stalking around the flank, the fire upon him dwindled slowly as one adversary after another lost reliable visual.

Weaving silently through enemy ranks, the padawan searched for a target. A Mandalorian, twin rippers, beskar'gam, just behind the accoster with a the darksaber. That was the one. Twenty-three meters between them now. Zaavik was careful to delicately move through the crossfire undetected. Dropping down, he slid beneath the steady stream from a chainblaster. His weight lurched forward into a roll, tumbling through more hazard and onto his feet.

Ten meters now. His arm reared backward preemptively. Feet skipped over uneven terrain. Danger tickled his senses, causing his head to duck just beneath a small volley of slugs. Three meters left. Zaavik lunged. His green blade reigniting brightly, almost appearing to float when held by his transparent form. One fluid stroke aimed for the wrists sought to disable the adversary in a singular strike. That'd give them one less threat to worry about. If it worked.

ALLIES | GA | INTELLIGENTSIA | Maynard Treicolt | Loske Treicolt
ENEMIES | NIO | WARRIOR CASTE | TERRORISTS | Meshla Detta (ENGAGING) | Seydou of Thyrsus | Théodoro

 

[Gala Geert]

OPERATION: WAYWARD LIGHT

ALLIES: Kir Dantos // MIDNIGHT SQUADRON // GA
ENEMIES: NIO // WARRIOR CASTE //
ENGAGING: Tavius Muuaji // Andan Voleg
EQUIPMENT: COMBAT ARMOUR // FEVERWASP (2) // SOHEI // TIDEFALL

​

​

Anila Minne's corpse didn't take long to draw the attention of her Twilight comrade. Strangled with distraught, Finon Nalle, lunged to check her vitals when Gala was dragged away. When he pulled his blood-stained gloves away, the despair of the pulse being null hit him. Loss quivered through his bones, and the resolve to infiltrate the system calcified his in his core. The coordination. The fight. He knew this, he recognized their movements. It was the same sort of technique and communication style they’d seen on Fornax. As allies. And again on every other battlefield the soldiers had shared. Molars ground, and grip on his blaster tightened.

There was only satisfaction to be found when the tower Anila had targeted only moments earlier started to give way to dust. Beneath the protection of his visor, the trooper grimaced. Activating his comms, Finon barked out a warning, his voice tense and laced with distress as he jumped up, picking up the pace to lead the charge forward, so they didn’t lose any ground. <Twilight, move up! Tower coming down, clear out and brace for impact!>

He too became airborne, his jetpack activating to propel him from harm’s way –– all the while hissing out a string of kriff, kark, kriff karking karker karks!

--

As expected, the initial whirlwind strike was parried and the engagement was on. Vibroswords, with their combination of plasmic fury and a medley of steels, was a brutal way to incur a wound. In the glint of light offered, which was little for this scene, Gala detected the similarities of the sword meant for her torso. Another user of the Republic Engineering Corporation. Distribution allies and consumers.

The dawning realization pulled her attention from the dance of blades with just enough time to bring her own Sohei around to protect her strike zone, though she grunted as the sharp edges of the armour-clad attacker cut through the weave next to her breast and beneath her arm. The force behind the blow caused her to stagger. Blood mottled against green flesh, and she clenched her teeth, hissing. But the bloodthirsty smile cannot be vanquished. The pain was a sharp reminder of how real this threat was, and how long it had been since she’d had a true contest. Kolto immediately puffed itself against the wound. Her sword blocked the rest of the counter swing, locking them in place.

It’s now, held once again, that the durasteel alloy of her secondary blade comes around to slash across his extended left leg. She might have continued to hack away at the limb if her comms didn’t cackle with Finon’s announcement. The ground began to rumble, and while she’d been dragged a fair distance it wasn’t enough to evade her and her assailant from the deluge of dust, grime, and other debris from the fallen watchtower. The impact was just short of seismic at this proximity.

Staggering and falling forward, Gala gripped at the earth; barely maintaining her grip on her pair of hilts. The filtration system of her helmet worked overtime to filter out the tiny particles of dirt, and she coughed within her helm; temporarily blinded by the cloud. With a few gestures, the sensors in her HUD picked up the outline of her target. Using disorientation to her advantage, she brought a knee up –– four tiny explosives launched from the plating on her leg, peppering around the fellow’s feet.

Her lungs still strained from the debris, she forced the concealment of her visor to rescind and gave way to proper coughing, barely managing to get a grip on her respiratory system before sliding back into the fray with a lunge to catch him hopefully discombobulated.

 

[Seydou of Thyrsus]

SONS OF MANDALORE
S H R I E K - H A W K
OPERATION: IRON DAWN
W I D O W M A K E R

​

The unexpecting New Imperials and Yinchorri warriors clashed with the brunt of the Alliance raiders with whatever item first they reached for. A clash of ideologies.

Maynard launched himself and both blue and black blades locked together. Both pushed but none yielded an inch.

"Wrong choice...

A R U E T I I!!"

​

He allowed Treicolt to push with the lock, releasing one hand from the blade and pointing it at Maynard in the form of a fist. Blue lights stirred to life before he launched the repulsor energy packed punch at the Jedi's face.

ALLIES | NIO | AIF | KRIG | WARRIOR CASTE
ENEMIES | GA | INTELLIGENTSIA | Maynard Treicolt [ENGAGING] | Loske Treicolt | Zaavik Perl

 

[Meko Sorrin]

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
OPERATION : IRON DAWN
Allies | NIO | YINCHORRI WARRIOR CASTE
Enemies | GA | INTELLIGISIA | Bayaz

​

<"Flutterpacks?">

The rifle Sorrin was assigned to use was perfect for those medium to long range shots. It was also perfect for taking out aerial targets. He steadied his breath, looking through the scope to get an accurate picture on another Yinchorri attempting to make their way towards him. After waiting a second, the sight line was perfect. A swift pull of the trigger and there their body fell, straight out of the sky.

Just then, two Alliance troopers started to fall from the sky. From his scope, Sorrin watched as their weight slowly dragged them down towards the battlefield below their feet. As they landed, they quickly discarded their jetpacks and went along with a charge with their allies. They only good approach would be a sniping position, as trying to collide head on would be foolish.

Grabbing his rifle, Meko took aim through his scope. The pictures of hostiles were outlined clearly, so he knew where to shoot. His eyes continued to look through the crowd of charging Yinchorri, until he found the Alliance soldier who fell from the sky. Bingo.

A steadied breath, a quick aim, and bam. A shot. It flew quickly towards its target, but the shoot was over calculated. Did he forget to adjust the range finder? It didn't matter now, he had missed. The marine knew his location, the only thing he could do was take aim for another shot.

Take aim.

 

[Tavius Muuaji]

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
257th Storm Commando Battlegroup
OPERATION : IRON DAWN
Allies: NIO | Yinchorri Warrior Caste
Engaging Hostiles: Intelligentsia | Gala Geert
Equipment: VT-Grav Armor - VT-Bulwark - Sohei - Mandalorian Energy Shield (left forearm)

​

Withdrawing the vibrosword, had it not been dark he would've seen the blood that painted the first few inches of its edge. Nonetheless, he could feel and see from her reaction that he had found purchase in his strike. And as her second blade swung in to his extended leg, he threw himself to the side, the easiest evasion he could make as he made for a combat roll out of the way.

Not quick enough, for he could feel the blade slice through between duraplas and fiberplas, and pierce through the armourweave, triggering a grunt from the man as soon as he rose up, just a little past a blades length away from her. Before he could even process the next step to the battle, the ground rumbled and a structure collapsed. He couldn't see what, his attention solely focused on his opponent, but the dust and grime flew up around them anyway as he was cast back to the ground with a grunt.

Raising a hand, it came up to wipe the grime off from the visor. The suit of armour had kept the environment out of the suit, and so for the most part he had his wits about him, if not for a slight shudder that he could feel reverberating through his legs, vibrosword collected from the ground with his right, just in time to see a flurry of missiles flying at him, and it was his turn to trigger his getaway maneuver.

Jet boots triggering to throw him backwards and up and away from the rockets, he landed lightly and with a practiced grace, but finding purchase on the ground again sent a twinge of pain up his left leg. Adrenaline muted much of the pain. And when the woman came for him, the energy shield on his forearm came to life, giving an upwards swing to knock the blade hopefully off balance and dropping that clenched left, towards Gala Geert 's exposed Mirialan features.

 

[Konrad Bolter]

S E V E N _ L I V E S
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
ATRISIA TENKOKU SENSEN
OPERATION : IRON DAWN
K A T A N A

The breakneck speed of the Yinchorri advancement left the Atrisian quick to forsake his sword, letting the blade slide back into its hilt before securing it to his belt once more. His arms then took up his blaster carbine, New Imperial standard issue make. Any Alliance soldier fortunate enough to pry it from his stiff dead hands would know that. All the same, it was sold commercially by the Trade Federation to select contractors. The Atrisian Imperial Front had its means of plausible deniability. Or rather, the New Imperial Order did. But there was no landmark strike which had thrust the AIF to the forefront of the Galactic Stage. Certainly not yet.

The Atrisians rallied to the defense, well enough to bear down on the approaching wave of Yinchorri with the hellfire of their blasters before they regrouped to the dreaded symphony of the rebel approach. He supposed then they might be the more the counter parts across the ideological aisle. Where the Imperials had their insurgent groups hailing the banner of order, prosperity, strength. So too did these 'Republic' aligned fools have their rebel terrorists. They were Agents of Chaos under a different name. They were criminals, vagabonds and instigators who used the supposed noble crusade of freedom as their cassus belli of Galactic terror.

The Sons of Atrisia, the truest heirs to the rising sun would show them true terror. What the bitter taste of real and justified vengeance can carry.

He slung the carbine over his shoulder as he clammored for cover, removing an thermal charge from his plate carrier. He peered over up over the cover, coming in the form of two adjacent storage crates packed with rations and saw the indomitable mass of muscle that was Oceiros astride one of the speeders.

He lobbed the charge with gritted teeth. If he heard it latch unto the metal, he'd press down unto the detonator to send the Jedi spiraling from his vehicle in a hopeful death spiral.

"No quarter! These terrorists will torch our homeland if we do not stop them here!" Nagata shouted out in a guttural command.

ALLIES | NIO | AIF | KRIG | WARRIOR CASTE | Gideon Saigo | Djorn Bline
ENEMIES | GA | INGELLIGENTSIA | RA | Oceiros Sunstrider
​

​

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

W O L F P A C K
THE GALACTIC ALLIANCE
104TH MARINE BATTALION 'WOLFPACK'
OPERATION : WAYWARD LIGHT
2 1 S T _ C E N T U R Y _ S C H I Z O I D _ M A N

The beam of cobalt invoking the legacy of the Jedi's weapon clashed with the Vizsla darksaber in an unyielding fury. It would see the death of both of them before either of them sought to yield to the other. Treicolt well and truly did not want to kill this man. A reality well and normally expected of any decent Jedi. Maynard was certainly not that. He took no qualms in killing the enemy when he needed to or at the very least, thought very well he needed to.

Amon knew well enough why. Though Treicolt was seperate from the clans of the Resol'nare on Concord Dawn, the life was still just as hard. There was no patience for the weak on Concord Dawn. Those who survived were those who endured, just as Amon had his own upbringing. It might've been the only thing that drew a side eyed glare from the Jedi, in the hopes the Mandalorian would do the impossible and walk away though all that'd mean is finding another supposed 'Alliance dog' to bare down unto.

He had render him defenseless, move to subdue. Vizsla certainly wasn't going to make that any easy task as soon enough the flaring push and pull of his vambrace's repulsor slammed into the helmeted head of the Jedi. The composite metals flexed and collapsed inward, the internal projection of his hud flickering out completely from the damage as he was thrown from his feet and back unto the surface of the platform. With one hand, he tried to pry the now useless article of armor from his head only to find it pulling at his skin. Stuck.

Before he could face a pressing of the advantage by the Crusader he throw his arm out and aimed his own vambrace toward the Mandalorian, firing out a grappling line to wrap around his legs before Maynard activated a pulse from his jetpack to throw himself from the structure, aiming to take Amon with him, rolling into the duracrete beneath with pained grunt before he ignited his lightsaber once more, prying the helmet from his head in a less than graceful, staggered motion before he was finally able to face down Vizsla again.

"Stand down..." He all but demanded. His voice weighed heavy, his eyes enveloped in darkness from an evident lack of rest. Such was the demands of the Alliance for the Jedi.

ALLIES | GA | INTELLIGENTSIA | Loske Treicolt | Zaavik Perl
ENEMIES | NIO | WARRIOR CASTE | TERRORISTS | Seydou of Thyrsus | Meshla Detta

 

[Loske Treicolt]

OPERATION: WAYWARD LIGHT

YINCHORR // IMPERIAL ROYAL GUARD ACADEMY //
FRIENDLIES: // Maynard Treicolt // Zaavik Perl // GA
UNFRIENDLIES: NIO ?? // Seydou of Thyrsus // Meshla Detta // Daros Karmann //WARRIOR CASTE //
ENGAGING: Théodoro
D I S C I P L I N E ​

Tension made the lasso taut, ensnaring the weapon in its wrap. When she pulled, he was steadfast, towering, and yanked back. Loske grunted. A battle of natural strengths would leave her sorely outmatched –– her opponent a good foot taller in addition to the reinforcements of his bulky armour and body mass. This strength would have to be used against him..but not with her in this position.

This realization came quickly. Loske was forced to step forward into the direction of his pull, her left arm crossing over, and she gestured her elbow in response—one chicken wing pulse. The suit's nano synchronicity with her intentions recognized the command, and the line whirred back into the compartment on her vambrace when his weapon split.

"I expected more, Jedi."

Who was this guy?

Egotism's temptation crooned its siren song. Once upon a time, the personal ploy got the better of her on Harnadian. She'd vowed not to let it happen again. Her validation didn't need to come from the feedback of a stranger, seeking his own valiance.

Short bursts of movement were the foundation of her typical aggressive and acrobatic approach. The tight, controlled reactions worked for the defensive as well. Her senses flared, and her metaphysical ally gave indicative notions that foresaw the travel of the Thyrsian's strikes before they became deadly. First, the right. Then the left. Speed disallowed the time to think.

Her senses flared and she was forced to step back, arching to evade the punch toward her throat so it passed over her chin. The Jedi rotated through the rest of the movement, bending toward the incoming attack on her left side and following it through with her own rolling momentum. Her dominant arm caught the incoming blade and she held it with a grimace and grunt of exertion. Her free left hand came from under as if pushing the metaphysical aid from the earth and generating a force barrier between her blade and his, exerting pressure forward to coerce the shimmering orb of energy to expand and feel almost tangible in strength. It continued to grow, and by now, Loske had re-purposed her footing with her strength on the back foot to support the redirection of the bubble, bringing it over to spread beyond the hand of the weapon, up and around his shoulders and chest. The barrier was not a protection for herself any longer; this much was obvious. It was crushing and intense.

The formerly known-as-a barrier grew, and Loske's fingers tightened to encourage it as if she were about to make a fist. Applying metaphysical pressure, she targeted the weight of the armour he wore, intent on pushing it in on itself to constrict his movements and seal him inside and force him to his knees. Boldly, she stepped forward, exhaling short, sharp breaths through her nose to balance and regulate the pressure and focus demanded.

Azure gaze narrowed. She inadvertently tightened her hold on her lightsaber as she curled her other hand into a more compact shape, encouraging the bubble's motions. Teeth grit before parting to make way for the accusatory query:

"What's a Sun Guard doing training a Yinchorri insurgency?" Any answer would be suspicious, and she dreaded she already knew. Still, for the passive recording in her suit's receptors, she wanted it said out loud. Conjecture would only go so far in The Senate.

Meanwhile, the Battalion with distinctive Wolf markings had made better progress than any Jedi detained in individual duels. A subgroup of soldiers were faster than the others, organized and focused, and pressed near and into the compound's inner workings. A small, metallic drone hovered above the shoulder of one of the more distinctively technical soldiers, seeking a scan of the insides to feedback to the troopers' expectations. If there were lifeforms inside, their bio scans would be fed back, and the group would be prepared before an ambush.

 

[Oceiros Sunstrider]

Location: Yinchor
Objective: Wayward Light
Allies: Galactic Alliance | Rebel Alliance | Bernard of Arca
Enemies: New Imperial Order | Sons of Mandalore | Djorn Bline | Konrad Bolter

Air battered the Jedi’s face as he and the rest of the calvary of speeder bikes came down from the skies above. The roar of their engines matching that of thunder, signaling the coming storm. The closer they got the more their fire began to strike home at targets. Some at guards who manned the walls and other stationary weapons, others raining down upon their tents, barracks, and their ration crates. Red bolts struck home, causing explosions of dirt, duracrete and dust to fill the air.

Oceiros watched the chaos, the destruction, the upheaval that was to be taking place here. No longer could the Imperial Order be allowed to thrive, to control and subdue others under their menacing grip. Grip tightening to the point where the whites of his knuckles were visible, Oceiros leaned into the bike. His own shooting forwards only a couple of meters behind @Bernard

Shooting over the reinforced wall with just enough room to spare his legs, Oceiros felt something. It started as a shiver that crept up his spine, and soon became a tingling on his scalp, a cold sinking into his bones. The epicanthix barely had time to register the ethereal warning before he heard a thunk.

It didn’t even feel as if it was Oceiros who jumped as if another entity had taken control and guided his actions. The Jedi kicked off the speeder bike, his mass carrying up and into the air as it detonated into a ball of flame and shrapnel. Bits of metal flew back tearing into Oceiros’ face, torso and legs, drawing streams of crimson.

Teeth gritted the Jedi’s eyes closed, giving himself over to the wind, he tumbled through the air before coming to the ground in a ball rolling to negate a portion of the impact. During the roll there was the famed snap-hiss of a lightsaber, a cobalt blade escaping the metallic hilt. With it the limb of an Atrisian flew free.

The roll carried Oceiros up and into a kneeling position inside a circle of flames. Both hands upon the hilt of the famed weapon, its lethal hum singing a song of damnation. Sapphire eyes opening, the flames reflected in them, they offered the promise of judgment.

 

[Bayaz]

Meko Sorrin

Jedi were best left to their own devices. Especially when a Mando was calling them out in the middle of a battle. He patted his battle buddy on the shoulder and moved further towards the compound. The insurgents were dug in but the Jedi had led them here and so nobody was leaving until the fight was done, regardless of how high those walls were. He checked his blaster for damage and trucked on, his blaster putting down two Turtle Heads before they found another squad to join.

"Lieutenant!" The sensation of the ground rushing up to meet him sent his stomach tumbling as he was shoved to the side by the soldier he'd just saved.

"Corporal?" But the man was dead. A high powered sniper bolt had crushed his skull inward from the visor, the betaplast still smoking from the shot. Alliance marine armor was good, able to stop most blaster bolts from mid to long-range engagements from killing them outright if they take the hit in the plates. A headshot was a headshot though. Even if it didn't land in the visor like this shot had, the blunt kinetic force of the blast would snap a neck. If not that then the swelling would kill you slowly or some other breathing complication as the betaplast melted around your face. He cursed and rushed past the wall.

"What unit are you from son?" the older marine asked. He had grey markings and a wolf displayed prominently on his left shoulder.

"We're from the 222nd. Nova Corps." The man grunted before peeking over and firing a few bolts from their cover. They were just inside one of the gates to the training facility. Stuck between a line of men in front and fire from behind on the walls, it wasn't exactly the best defensive position. Out of the pan and into the fire, he thought to himself as he peeked over the cement block to check enemy positions. A red bolt nearly took off his head. Their armor was good, able to stop most blaster bolts from mid to long-range engagements from killing them outright if they take the hit in the plates. A headshot was a headshot though. Even if it didn't land in the visor, the blunt kinetic force of the blast would snap a neck. If not that then the swelling would kill you slowly or some other breathing complication as the betaplast melted around your face.

"Damn," he cursed. "What's the plan Major?" Rail definitely outranked the man he was crouched beside, but this area of the engagement was the Jedi Maynard's domain. His Wolfpack was in charge here.

"Well we were planning on having the General up here with us," he said, "This would be no problem with a Jedi," he trailed off. Rail quirked his eyebrow. General? He didn't know the Jedi had been promoted that quickly or that high up. Though if the stories he heard from the war were true, he deserved it.

"Well, your General isn't here. He's busy with a Mando." The Wolfpack man stared at him with what he could only assume was a blank expression. Rail sighed. "Charge it is. You got any fraggers? Eye poppers?" The man nodded. "Good, I lost mine when I fell." He reached out expectantly. The man handed over a pair of grenades and rail set the timer to impact. Rail huffed a few times, his rifle tight to his chest. "Give me some covering fire." he started to move but came back down, "And DON'T hit me." The smalls squad nodded.

And then he vaulted the concrete.

He dashed, sprinting full speed, blaster and particle bolts breaking apart the ground around him, sending chips of permacrete and dirt into his visor. He tucked, jumped, and rolled, tossing his eye-popper and fragger as he came out of his roll. The fragger exploded, or rather imploded. The crazy kid had given him one of the new thermal imploders. It had looked exactly like a normal detonator. He cursed as a couple Turtle Heads flew overhead. His visor darkened as the ear-poppers exploded. The squad came rushing behind him, fire from the towers behind them were dumping their power packs on them as they ran. They lost one but they managed to get to a better position and the Inteligencia fliers managed to take high ground positions out. They were safe. For now.

​

 

[Lucien Dooku]

[P R A Y I D I E]
KAL'ORITSOR | JEDI ARMOR
173RD. STORMTROOPER LEGION - THE MYRMIDONS
OBJECTIVE II - Aerarii Tithe

---

---

"...Of course." Luc sighed beneath his breath as a hand slid down his face from the annoyance of their chosen course of action. It only took the occupants of the vehicle a moment of idle time to make their decision regarding Lucien's ultimatum. Eyes rolled into a glare as he caught sight of the pilots within his vision once more, the whine of his jetpack being joined in tandem by the rest of his companions as defensive blasters sweeped through the air around them. The frantic shooting of the hostile gunners within the vehicle made for easy work for the elite veterans that followed the Jedi, who in response had started to actively engage the firing arcs with a series of erratic, yet precisely-timed aerial maneuvers to continue drawing their fire.

Lucien boosted out of the vehicle's path, which resorted to wildly swinging around to aid swatting away the hovering group of warriors all around it. It was an annoyance, but the desperation of such illogical actions had confirmed the thought within his mind regarding the status of whoever it was within the vehicle. Had it just been the standard rank-and-file combatants, chances are they would've taken him up on the offer, considering they didn't have the gall to shoot at them the moment they arrived. Unless they were fanatics, certain death wasn't optimal choice that most logical beings would make- especially when the one making the demands had openly presented themselves as a force user.

He could've been all wrong, of course, but Luc figured that the deduction had enough weight behind it to continue pressing forwards with his plan. His Myrmidons companions proved themselves ever faithful, and ever proficient at war-fighting in the air. Meanwhile Luc snapped from the theory within his head, his gaze shifting across to the two Mandalorians who casually sat outside of the firing arcs of the vehicle's weapons. A pair of fingers lifted into the air, then pointed towards the vehicle after timing the moment that the vehicle presented most of its silhouette within their direction.

Wrist-launchers aimed at the vehicle, prepared to fire. "Just the weapon emplacements." Luc commanded, his tone as casual as ever in spite of their presence a fair distance behind the lines of an unidentified enemy. <"Copy."> The response came from the senior of the two Mandalorians. Seconds later the warriors unleashed a single salvo towards the defensive weaponry of the transport, aiming to precisely knock out the weapons that served as nothing more than a deterrence to the airborne Myrmidons companions around it. At first glance it would seem like it wasn't enough, but the powerful warheads that the rockets contained were plenty enough to not just destroy the defensive blasters, but also blow a chunk through the hull beneath it. Even though his aim was still to not harm the occupants, a few scrapes and bruises, or even a concussion or two, were acceptable outcomes for him.

Luc, on the other hand, would not remain idle for too long once the rockets were fired and ran their course. Regardless of the outcome, he once more landed upon the hull of the vehicle, a hand shifting behind his back as he latched his fingers around the hilt of Kal'oritsor. The force relic had sparsely seen use since the Third-Imperial Civil War began to wind down in intensity. It was a powerful weapon with abilities that even he had fully come to comprehend, but it would serve its purpose once more in hopefully bringing the scrap to a close. He unsheathed it in one fluid motion, gripping the hilt underhanded with both his hands as he thrusted the weapon downwards, straight into the top of the vehicle's hull. The sword cut clean through the durasteel, only coming to a stop halfway down the blade due to Luc not pressing it further.

His jetpack flared to life once more as he began sprinting along the length of the vehicle's hull, aided by the extra momentum the jetpack's thrusters provided him. The goal was to further expose the occupants of the vehicle, as well as solidify the idea in their minds that resistance was inevitably futile. If they wanted an exit from a situation that was clearly stacked against their favor, their only option would be to cooperate. It was far too easy for him to just give the order to reduce the vehicle to slag, but he was not Sith, nor one of the more fanatical warfighters of the Order. He'd spare his men the order to shed blood if it was at all possible.

The blade retracted from the hull as soon as he'd reached the tail end of the vehicle, and with it his comms reopened back up on the same channel as before. "I won't go through the process of repeating my demands once more. To whoever is inside, my recommendation is still on the table. Come outside for a talk, and we can end this on an amicable note. I won't be able to provide a third opportunity if you continue the way you are."

He leaped from the top of the hull as he spoke, sheathing his weapon once more before touching his feet to the ground with his arms crossed against his armor. His companions maintained their aerial formation around the vehicle with an assortment of firearms now trained on the vehicle below. Whatever happened next, the ball was in their court. ​

 

[Meshla Detta]

Operation Iron Dawn
Allies: NIO, SoM, Warrior Caste
Seydou of Thyrsus | Théodoro
Enemy: GA, RA, Intelligentsia
Maynard Treicolt | Loske Treicolt
Engaging - Zaavik Perl

SHOW_ME_WHAT_YOU'VE_GOT

​

And so the battle commenced... as there would be no standing down. Like duh?!

The Vizsla's Darksaber clashed with Treicolt's lightsaber in a duel of wills atop the duracrete platform. The Sun Guard rushed Treicolt's Jedi companion with a fierceness Thyrsian's were known for. It was all glorious.

And then there was the Detta. The blue-armored Mando focused on the GA troopers accompanying the Jedi as they attempted to push forward into the compound. She launched a wrist rocket from her left gauntlet sending the mini concussion missile into the advancing line, hoping to take out as many of the enemy soldiers in one swell swoop. Meshla then returned to using her slugthrower, picking off stragglers as best she could that made it through the explosion as they couldn't allow them to gain access inside the base.

Suddenly, the female Mandalorian's 360-degree HUD gave a warning alert of someone coming at her from the side and fast. Meshla activated the dinu'ul on her left gauntlet just in time to intercept the green laser sword of a young Jedi who seemingly appeared out of nowhere from behind the other two Jed, nice and sneaky like.

The personal shield stopped the lightsaber blade from its intended purpose of ending her though she still felt the impact reverberate through her arm. If it wasn't for her crushgaunt, she would have lost the grip on the Ripper in that hand. The recently healed laceration on Meshla's upper arm though, a parting gift from the newly minted Sith Nida Perl during the Invasion of Bastion, screamed at her but the discomfort didn't deter the Detta from counterattacking.

Gods how I hate Force-users...

She raised her right arm up, pointing the gauntlet directly at the young man, and activated her wrist cryo-ban gun blasting a supercooled liquid at him hoping to literally give the pesky Jedi a frosty greeting. Then while he was distracted by that, Meshla would let loose the remaining slugs in the chamber of her Ripper Mk. II's hoping to finish this youngster off as she used her repulsor-pack to put space between them.