Skirmish The Calling | Frigid Dawn | NIO vs GA

[IMPCOM]

Warchief Waddles
F R I G I D _ D A W N
S H A D O W S _ O F _ T H E _ E M P I R E
T H E _ C A L L I N G
10/10 - 10/24​

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Yinchorr

Nestled in the periless neutral space between the New Imperial Order and Galactic Alliance, the planet is a nigh desolate waste, a blip on any Galactic projection.

Making it the perfect training ground and sanctuary point for the New Imperial Order’s most volatile killers. But these warriors do not don the black and silver of the Order. They carry a different banner all their own. The banner of wayward homes and lost nations under the gilded jackboot of ‘freedom’ and ‘democracy’ that chokes out the Core in the form of the Galactic Alliance.

Allies they may be now, the Order is still engulfed in the fires of total war, while the ideologically divergent Alliance lays the foundations of its sphere in a reinvigorated Core. While the Sith and Imperial fight an existential war between themselves, there is no telling if the Republic ideology of the GA and the Imperial ‘New Order’ will collide, but when.

Thus, the Order is taking the initiative. With unmarked assets they consolidate and prepare the Kandaran Imperial Guard and the Atrisian Imperial Front for a bloody insurgency with the aim of destabilizing the Alliance from within, making them unable to march in false virtue unto the New Imperial Order.

What they neglected however was the very nature of the world they embedded this proxy fortress unto. On the very same grounds that bred and tempered the Empire’s most feared warriors, the native Yinchorri grew wary. While the show of force and evident triumph in battle by the Imperials impressed the warrior caste, it made the Yinchorri intelligentsia class wary. Wary of what consequences the Galaxy might bear down on them with if they so easily cede their sovereignty to an Empire Rising.

Thus, in desperation they sought the help of the Galactic Alliance with a plead. A plead to rid their world of this foreign malfeasance and the growing cancer of Imperialism. A New Order.

Moving in wary investigation of the Imperial presence on Yinchorr, the Alliance finds the New Imperial presence in the form of the fortified Imperial Guard training grounds.

What comes next is the rising of the Frigid Dawn.

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OBJECTIVE || ATTACK
OPERATION : WAYWARD LIGHT
THE GALACTIC ALLIANCE
MILITARY ADVISORS | EXPLICIT AFFILITATION
SUPPORTING : ENLIGHTENED CASTE​

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The people of Yinchorr reached out to the Galactic Alliance after an investigation of the rapid rise of Imperialist partisans among their Warrior caste was revealed to be the product of external tampering. They deserve their right to choose their own fate and guide themselves from an abrasive ideology that holds no compassion for them. Investigate the unmarked Imperial compound but be wary, the assailants are armed and ready to fight.

A combined task force of many Galactic Alliance military advisors and Intelligence officers has arrived on the scene to help the Inteligentsia of Yinchorr to defend themselves and abate the spread of this destructive ideology.

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OBJECTIVE || DEFEND
OPERATION : IRON DAWN
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
MILITIA AND MILITARY ADVISORS | UNMARKED AFFILIATION
SUPPORTING : WARRIOR CASTE​

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​

Empty promises, false virtues and drunken lies. The Yinchorri are a strong people who demand a strong hand to guide them through the periless winds of the Galaxy. We are that hand. Defend our hidden compound from the Galactic Alliance who seek to disrupt our operation on this world, one of many seeds of the New Order planted beyond the direct influence of the NIO.

While the insurgent groups funded by the New Imperial Order have come here to train and acquire a shipment of advanced war fighting equipment, they are accompanied by a parceled group of elite New Imperial Order units here to ensure the exchange in neutral space is conducted without interference and that there is no local resistance to their presence here.

// SETPIECES //:
> Yinchorr
> Imperial Royal Guard Academy

Spoiler: NIO TAGS

Amon Vizsla
Akash Guul
Konrad Bolter
Archie
Wallace Paxxus
Andro Stratus
Djorn Bline
Ravraa Vyshraal
Noel Strasza
Enedina Tal
Meko Sorrin
Detritus Ren
Haleth Garro
Daros Karmann
Andan Voleg
Lyman Fordyce

Spoiler: GA TAGS

Maynard Treicolt
Loske Treicolt
Constantine Oliva
Qell Auraeli
Bernard of Arca
Gala Geert
Kir Dantos
Oceiros Sunstrider
Taysonyl Callenid
Alex Locke
Astraea Tagge

 

[Konrad Bolter]

S E V E N _ L I V E S
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
ATRISIA TENKOKU SENSEN
OPERATION : IRON DAWN
S A C R I F I C E _ O F _ T R A D I T I O N

In the shadows of the Empire, the rising sun waited its time to rise. It'd be a meticulous and carefully chiseled rise to resurgence, to scrape and purge the defiling wastes that exploited Atrisia. That let the noble world be weakened so much that Blackwing fell and reaped its devestation, to be so willingly yielded to Confederacy and now a trade of hands like sable skins in a market would see it fall from beneath the gilded jackboots of violet to cobalt. All the same tyranny.

On Yinchorr, the Rising Sun of the Atrisian Imperial Front would finally crest the horizon. Where the same fearsome and lethal warriors of the Emperor's Imperial Guard honed their abilities long ago, the Atrisian Imperial did the same under the oversight of New Imperial special operatives and military advisors, men and women who'd had their mettle tempered in the fires of the Braxant Run, warring and defying the greatest military machine the Galaxy had produced in generations.

But so too did the weeping ugly beast that is the Starbird of the Core rear its ugly head here. To try and snuff out the fires of a New Order. At least, unbenknownst to Nagata and the rest of the Imperial operatives stationed here as the fury of the Core came in the form of the Yinchorri themselves.

At the coming of dusk, the alarms sounded to the symphony of the crack of blaster fire as the Yinchorri militia began a brazen attack on the Imperials. Nagata was one of the first to man the walls but the response was futile as the flutter-packs of the Yinchorri militia ushered them over the fortifications and into the compound proper to sow the seeds of chaos.

Nagata at the tip of the spear of his Atrisian unit snapped to life his vibrosword, plunging it through the chest of a Yinchorri warrior before he sounded out to his men.

"Sons of Atrisia! To me!" He barked out in his mother tongue. It was time to make war.

ALLIES | NIO | AIF | KRIG | WARRIOR CASTE | Akash Guul
ENEMIES | GA | INGELLIGENTSIA | OPEN

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

W O L F P A C K
THE GALACTIC ALLIANCE
104TH MARINE BATTALION 'WOLFPACK'
OPERATION : WAYWARD LIGHT
A . D . D

The Galaxy was moving quickly. It wasn't a few months ago that the Starbird and Iron Sun waved side by side in defiance of the Sith Empire, a common enemy and a despicable foe. A Galactic malfeasance that need be scrubbed clean. But the democratic ideals of the Alliance and the authoritarian 'New Order' philsophy of this newfound Empire clashed in nothing but a bloody schism.

And there was no rest under the eclipse of the Iron Sun. The New Order's influence exuded far past its Galactic borders and seeped into worlds both neutral and aligned. Regardless of the political stratagem talked between politicians behind gilded walls and closed doors, the wolves on Yinchorr were terrorists. And the Starbird would swoop down on them as the bird of prey it was, to bathe the darkness in its wayward light, to bring the truth to life.

Maynard was one of the first through the breach after the initial wave of Yinchorri warriors propelled themselves above the walls. Clad in his Beskar'gam like durasteel and composite plate. While another prong of the assault battled the Atrisian Imperial Front, Maynard took his small unit over an adjacent point of the compound, proppelling himself after them with his own jetpack before his boots slammed into the earth on the other side.

There to oppose them, the Yinchorri warrior caste...and terrorists. Or at the very least, Imperials. He couldn't discern who they were, where they came from, who they'd owed their allegiance to or any of it.

All he was ever told was they were terrorists, a threat to the Galactic Alliance and as such, they needed to be put to the sword.

For the Yinchorri he offered a bit more reprieve, forsaking his usual demeanor of wielding death at the end of blade in favor if incapacitation. The others? He'd kill. Just as he did anyone else who wished to do the same unto him. Even if he was told he needed to capture, interrogate at least one of them. He was far too impatient. There was no quarter.

ALLIES | GA | INTELLIGENTSIA | Loske Treicolt
ENEMIES | NIO | WARRIOR CASTE | TERRORISTS | Amon Vizsla

 

[Akash Guul]

T O M O R R O W _ B E L O N G S _ T O _ U S
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
45TH ASSAULT-CF VOLUNTEER COMBAT GROUP "OATHSWORN"
OPERATION : IRON DAWN
O N E _ F I R E

After a long day of marching and training, Grunger warmly welcomed the night where he and a few of his most loyal staff officers would sit down and play sabacc. They hit the booze heavy that night as usual. Bluffed far more than they could afford as usual. Threw degenerate jokes in spite of the Atrisians and Kandarans and other lowly scumbags they had been training as usual. Obnoxious barely described the 45th, they were far worse - most were released convicts from the prisons of Sith worlds retaken by the New Order during the Civil War.

These were bad men.

When the alarms sounded, Maj. Grunger Zsinj was last to be combat ready and first to be cussing everyone in his way. The 45th rushed towards the fortifications to defend from the aggressors. Half of them had only their unmarked chestplates, others were rushing in with white tank tops and camo shorts guns and swords.

Zsinj looked back at the makeshift sabacc table and saw the opportunity to snatch the abandoned pot of credit chits. He looked around before taking his undeserved winnings, then went on to find his gear.

ALLIES | NIO | AIF | KRIG | WARRIOR CASTE | Konrad Bolter
ENEMIES | GA | INGELLIGENTSIA | OPEN

 

[Seydou of Thyrsus]

SONS OF MANDALORE
S H R I E K - H A W K
OPERATION: IRON DAWN
T H E _ D E V I L _ A N D _ T H E _ H U N T S M A N

​

They came under the guise of night.

Exhausted from an all day rigorous training under the Mandalorian's regime, the enemy wished to prey upon them at their weakest.

Vultures.

He would disperse them as a million sheep are dispersed by one lion's roar.

The Darksaber snap-hissed to life and with a slash it took one in exchange. Amon growled orders through the comms before the sight of another beskar'gam briefly shocked him.

A familiar one at that.

Its blue blade on a merciless rampage.

Amon Vizsla jumped on a platform with the help of his repulsor pack to get a better view of yesterday's friend and today's enemy.

"TREICOLT!"

"STAND DOWN!"

"OR I WILL PUT YOU DOWN!"

​

ALLIES | NIO | AIF | KRIG | WARRIOR CASTE
ENEMIES | GA | INTELLIGENTSIA | Maynard Treicolt | Loske Treicolt

 

[Tavius Muuaji]

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
257th Storm Commando Battlegroup
OPERATION : IRON DAWN

​

Tavius had finished for the day already. Patrol in the surrounding areas for much of the morning and afternoon. It had only been minutes since he had returned to the compound than there were already sounds of battle outside. Alarms whirring and the sound of screams as he cast a glance over his shoulder to the lockers exit.

Reaching into his locker and withdrawing the placed helmet, he slammed shut the locker and raced toward the exit, retrieving his weapons from the rack just before stepping out into the battlezone. Yinchorri all throughout the compound, engaged in combat past the walls against barely armed congregations of Imperials and natives.

Tavius spotted other members of his unit that hadn't gone in to turn in their gear yet, already engaged in combat, vibroblades and blasters being unleashed on the enemy before he rushed into the fray amongst them, fighting his way through the hostiles that had already breached past the walls.

Stand and do battle.

ALLIES | NIO | AIF | KRIG | WARRIOR CASTE | Konrad Bolter , Akash Guul
ENEMIES | GA | INGELLIGENTSIA | OPEN

 

[Meko Sorrin]

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
OPERATION : IRON DAWN
Allies | NIO | AIF | KRIG | WARRIOR CASTE | Konrad Bolter | Akash Guul | Tavius Muuaji
Enemies | GA | INTELLIGISIA | OPEN

​

Meko was expecting nothing to happen.

His unit had already been dismissed for the night. The only activities left to do were to play cards and good around. Sorrin no place within either. His body ached from standing and walking around the compound all day. Another moment of pointless movement would make his legs give out. So, he lay on his assigned, well-made bunk, trying to relax. The noise outside from the others was nothing compared to the sweet salvation of relaxation. He shrugged off. All noises but the blaring alarm that came seconds after laying down.

He sprung to his feet, watching as those same men who were chatting among themselves about future endeavors, instantly change into a battle-like mindset, grabbing their gear, and getting ready for further instructions.

Sorrin rushed to his gear locker, only to pull out the basic plate carrier and tactical helmet that he and the rest of his unit had been assigned. He had put it all on in less than 5 seconds, then rushed out to the ongoing battle, rifle in hand.

Blasters and dirt flew back and forth as men got into their battle positions, yelling and screaming out to each other, loading their weapons and firing against the enemy. The smell of scorched earth filled Meko's nostrils as he rushed to a nearby barricade, trying to get a view of any targets that lay in front of him. His rifle sights lined up perfectly straight forward, his finger itching to pull the trigger.

Let's get to work.

 

[Noel Strasza]

"If you want to make enemies... try to change something."
T O O _ C L O S E _ T O _ T H E _ S U N
MAJOR "DEADER" STRASZA

THE "BLACK JACKETS"
STATUS : 12/12
OPERATION : IRON DAWN

The cover of darkness stoked the ravenous hunger of those who had been expected, and she stood in quiet anticipation, awaiting their arrival. On the wall of the fortress, Strasza stood, rifle cradled against her lower abdomen in low-ready as she nursed a cigarette between her lips. The other "scouts" stationed with her were some of her proudest accomplishments with her time here, and those who had been willing to be molded by her less-than-tender hand had survived her gauntlet, and been shaped into a silent, deadly force of snipers and infiltrators. Insurgency granted insight to the greater warmachine and hardened by a proprietor of its grind. In silence, they swept their sightlines, content with the quiet hum of the facility they were meant to protect as the only sound beyond the occasional check from other outposts. ​

The cyborg shifted her weight, relieving her cigarette of its final breath before flicking it to the darkness below. She took pause there on the edge, augemented eyes whirring in quiet sting against the darkness, granting her vision to beyond. The rocky terrain provided a million and a half places for opposition to duck behind on approach, and neither her, nor those with her would forsake their guard and neglect that fact. Deader secured her unfamiliar helmet on her head, concealing the stretch of cybernetics blooming beneath it with the securing of her undershirt. This was not a place she was meant to be recognized. Extensive effort had gone into concealing the distinctive layering of mechanization and augmentation she hosted, so much so not an inch of mock-flesh was left uncovered by the blackened, unemblazoned reconnaissance armor she wore.​

The unspoken meditation of her squadron was disturbed by the wailing cry of alarm, pushing them to action. ​

The time had come, at last.​

The major lifted a hand, circling the air swiftly in tight gesture as information was fed into the HUD of her helmet, serving to fill in their direction. Her newly christened squadron would keep themselves high and hidden amidst the chaos, and pick off targets from vantage points unexpected. The night would serve all of them as well as it did their assailants. Jetpacks hummed to light in unison, and with Strasza leading them, the Black Jackets took flight to the top of the south tower, anchoring their landing with the aid of the surging magnetic soles of boots. ​

This position was taken, the snipers posted in prone, and the silent firing line formed.​

"Defend your right to freedom," Strasza's augmented voice droned in the helmets of those she had put through hell, "and kill all who come to take it from you."​

The woman caught target in the tunneling view of her scope and amidst the rise of power such a sight granted her, she found solace. A quick squeeze of the trigger cast a quiet 'pck' into the chorus of clash, and her target dropped with a spurt of crimson.​

"They're coming over the walls." The familiar voice crossed her mind, pulling her attention to the fact. ​

"So we won't allow them." She answered, glancing out of the side of her visor to see those with her pivot and make adjustment in unison. "Let's slap a lid on it before it boils over."​

Silenced shots coughed out, snuffing the lives of those who bounded into their fortress out in the blink of an eye. Bolts cracked back, loading a secondary round into the chamber.​

The rhythm of the warmachine.​

It brought the faintest smile to her hidden face.​

// ALLIES : NIO, AIF, KRIG, WARRIOR CASTE | Meko Sorrin Tavius Muuaji Amon Vizsla Konrad Bolter ​

// ENEMIES : GA, INTELLIGENTSIA | OPEN​

 

[Enedina Tal]

S A E Q A B R I G A D E

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER

KANDARAN IMPERIAL REVOLUTIONARY GUARD

​

​

Saeqa brigade was one of many that comprised the resistance body known as KRIG, its men veterans of the CICs folly into Mandalorian space and many smaller conflicts. These men had cut their teeth fighting the sons of Mandalore beneath the despondent dawn that hailed the end of Yashas Mandalore. Soldiers of the party, now soldiers of the revolution and resistance. For the path of eternal victory was paved with the blood and tears of the reactionary senate in Coruscant.


The wolves of the alliance may have had more tanks and guns than the Fedayeen did, but what the democratic scum didn't possess was the zeal of thousands of martyrs willing to die for the Imperial cause of home. Kill one Kandaran, kill a few hundred, a thousand, but you would still not extinguish the fire of the Imperial revolutionary vanguard. They had thousands of more men to sacrifice if it meant furthering the goals of the resistance.


REC-PWL/01 or as many liked to call it 'harbinger', was a rocket launcher designed by republic engineering to facilitate anti-ship and anti-tank combat on a more portable platform, allowing the user to pick off speeder tanks mercilessly. Turning the once steel titans into literal burning coffins for the poor crew inside. Using funding illicitly procured from donors and a concerned benefactor, the Insurgent organisation had ordered well over four hundred and fifty of the launcher designs, hoping to negate the discrepancy of fighting armoured Alliance formations in the war to come. Tariq and the other members of the command had seen what the Alliances armoured formations could do, and they were scarce to repeat the massacres of past engagements.

Yinchorr came to be an essential location where Fedayeen of the KRIG came to pick up shipments and train its units for the upcoming war. Regular marches and rallies under the auspices of the commanders were held to install glorious Imperial spirit in the volunteers that came to fight once more for the golden eagle of Imperial Kandara. The flags of the galactic alliance and other moderate regimes used as carpets for the marching fedayeen to step on and chant volatile chants of war and vengeance.



With the grounds being in such close proximity to the locals, the high command saw it no issue in using the natives for their own purposes. Fedayeen regularly with impunity raided Yinchorri villages in the dark of night and kidnapped locals, what they did no one could safely say, but the liaison NIO officers alleged that the KRIG used them for target practice and to test newly acquired weaponry on. And as a final slap to the terrorised locals, Fedayeen often dumped the bodies of those they kidnapped, bruised, mutilated and battered on roadsides. Prior to their expulsion from the homeworld in the wake of the CICs fall, the fedayeen had often made people disappear on accusations of collaboration with the Corellians and outside powers. So things had not changed much; they were still the same brutal organisation of Imperialist killers.


Most were not present in the compound on the morning, with most Fedayeen and KRIG officers off-world. Only a small company of fedayeen belonging to the Saeqa brigade remained, a skeleton crew presence at best but still dangerous. Hearing the intense staccato of blaster fire and mortar pepper the grounds, the company of Fedayeen armed with Imperial grade weaponry and other illegally bought weapons sprung to action. A unifying war cry in their native tongue as they moved to meet the attackers.


" YA JABAL MA YHEZAK REEH!"
(The winds cannot shake the mountain!)

Allies: NIO, ALF, WARRIOR CASTE, Meko Sorrin Tavius Muuaji Amon Vizsla Konrad Bolter Noel Strasza Akash Guul
Enemies: GA and Intelligenista reactionaries​

 

[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
R E S I S T _ A N D _ P R O T E C T

Through the night, to the day
​

There was barely any luxury of rest, when did a soldier ever get that merit? Even when discharged from duty there was always a fight to have. The Iron Sun continued its relentless approach on the damnation of the Sith Order, even with talks of diplomacy and possible peace to occur between both nations. Even if peace was brokered it would be a false one with continued operations against worlds that contained elements of these insurgencies. But for an Imperial soldier everyone that didn't align with Imperial ideals was just another enemy. The Starbird was another icon that was a dissident to the Iron Sun as much as the Sith Decree was to the New Imperial Order. Diamondback knew that things between the Alliance and the Order wouldn't be golden forever.

Nothing gold can stay
​

If not today, then tomorrow the Alliance would find it abhorrent of Imperial doctrine and launch offensives to all fronts that praised these ideals. Already were the people of Atrisia and Kandara subjugated by the Starbird with the former claimed by the Confederacy before being delivered to Coruscant and its federation. Events that changed their cultures, but for the worst. If evidence needed, then the people that came to the Iron Sun for aid was more than enough as they shared the same goals. They were people of conquest, though they fought for what was right.

Security and Order to this insane Galaxy.
​

Diamond Snake, along with others of his newly found comrades in the Order, were responsible in this task. Yinchorr would be the first step in realizing their goals as imported men and women of different backgrounds (Atrisian, Kandarin, and other races) would be trained by officers and advisors of the Order. Djorn and a squad of Vipers would train the gifted recruits out of the mixed groups, teaching them what they knew. Impure metal became pure through each new day. Something he was appreciated for with the respect and determination from his batch of recruits to train. Even earned the title of “Master Bline” by the Atrisian trainees with utmost respect.

But now it was to see how solid they were

The Commissioner, his Vipers, and trainees had arrived to base after a training session of survival in the desert. Exhausted and humbled by the sun they were. They would eat, enjoy some recreational time, and sleep before training at dawn. That would be postponed after...

They processed what they heard from the alarms for a second or two before sprinting into action. Whether it was a drill or not, they had to be prepared. Already they could tell it wasn’t a drill with blaster fire singing in the air and the bass of orders being yelled.

“Show me what you’ve got,” his words regarded to his trainees, encouraging their fighting spirit. Some were not fully attired in their armor, but that mattered little to them. Courage was not something to prepare, it was something to act upon; and courage was solid.

His helmet slipped down to veil his head, a hand carrying a Sabrewasp carbine, courtesy to Republic Engineering, aiming at the skies of a pest of Yinchorri soaring above the walls to sabotage the efforts of the Imperials.

Through the night, to the day they would fight.

ALLIES | NIO | AIF | KRIG | WARRIOR CASTE | Amon Vizsla | Enedina Tal | Konrad Bolter | Akash Guul | Tavius Muuaji | Noel Strasza | Meko Sorrin
ENEMIES | GA | Maynard Treicolt

 

[Andan Voleg]

Location: Yinchorr
Objective: Iron Dawn
Allies: NIO Unmarked Imperial Units | AIF | Warrior Caste | Open to Interaction
Enemies: GA | Intelligentsia Caste | Open to interaction

"It is with artillery, that war is made"​

Sitting alone on one of the many watchtowers that dot the perimeter of the base sat one Corporal Voleg, bandana pulled down and cigarra in mouth. He sat there listening, to some music out of a small portable radio. Next to him his trusty AK-57x and a large radio pack stood up on the floor next to him as well as a set of macrobinoculars slung around his neck. So far the shift had been quiet and Andan expected another quiet night. Boy was he wrong.

"It's no good for you, no better for me, in the morn-" that's when he saw it, the advancing army charging towards the Imperial base. "Kark me they found the balls to do it." he said to himself before tossing out his cigarra and pulling his bandana up. At that point the alarms were already blaring and soldiers were rushing up to the wall. Andan picked up his carbine and began firing in rapid succession towards the enemy before a volley of blaster fire came right towards him, the corporal narrowly dodging out the way. He looked over the barricade and spotted who shot at him, a group of yinchori setting up a make shift machine gun nest behind a few rocks.

"Fire at me will ya" he said before kneeling over and picking up the handset of the radio backpack. "Let's see how you like it." he continued before pulling out a small map. "HARP Shelldrake 1-1 this is Observer Bravo 2-3. I’ve got a target for you. Fire direction 0520, distance 240 meters, target is danger close, over." he said, waiting for a response. "Copy 2-3, 0520, 240. Over" he heard the artillery comms operator respond. "Target description, two enemy heavy machine gunners with 3 ammo bearers in a semi fortified position. Fire for effect. Over." he continued. He looked over to the yinchorri which were now laying heavy suppressing fire towards the wall. The handset once again began emitting sound and the voice of the artillery gunner came in. "10-4. Target acquired, firing now."

Suddenly the dim sky within the base was illuminated as Shelldrake 1-1 began firing off rounds. Andan watched as the shells landed at the Yinchorri position, reducing the gunners and ammunition bearers into nothing but pink mist. It was always fun, watching hostiles get blown to pieces. "HARP Shelldrake 1-1 this is Observer Bravo 2-3. Good hits, target neutralised." he said with a grin under his mask. He changed radio frequency to an open one between all Imperial aligned units. "All units this is Observer Bravo 2-3, coordinating fire from Shelldrake 1-1. Send in your requests and we'll blow 'em to smithereens."

 

[Zaavik Perl]

S H A D O W
THE GALACTIC ALLIANCE
OPERATION: WAYWARD LIGHT
A P R I L

​

One droning slash of the verdant plasma after the other; it had all become a blur to him. Zaavik was practically on autopilot. Parry, step, strike. Parry, step, strike. Parry, step, strike. Tedious, monotonous violence. It was bad enough to become jaded, but now, with everything that had happened with Allyson, he felt disillusioned. Die here? Be victorious? Sure, Zaavik had a preference, but would it really matter? Jedi, expendable, who knew? He sure didn't, but perhaps that just proved how naive he'd been.

Parry, step, strike. Parry, step, strike. Parry, step, strike.

What am I doing here? he thought to himself. Technically, he had a choice. Service in the New Jedi Order was entirely voluntary. Even his expendability, was also, technically a choice. But, what else did he have? What else did he know? Nothing. Parry, step, strike; this is all he was. He was merely doing what he needed to in order to get by. That's all he ever did. No one was coming to save him. That kind of miracle doesn't happen more than once.

Zaavik followed Maynard's lead. Somehow. His body moved, knowing everything it needed to do, but his mind was a daze. His body was on the battlefield, but his mind felt several parsecs away, watching. In and out of visibility, Zaavik cycled between visible and on the offensive, to invisible and on the defensive. It was all just part of the dance now. He hardly had to think about it anymore. Was it always this dull?

"TREICOLT!"
"STAND DOWN!"
"OR I WILL PUT YOU DOWN!"

The loud, aggressive accosting momentarily brought him back to reality. He shimmered from being cloaked back into visibility next to Maynard. A look to Maynard, and then back in the direction he vaguely sensed the voice from preceded an inquiry. "That uh, a friend of yours, Maynard?"

ALLIES | GA | INTELLIGENTSIA | Maynard Treicolt Loske Treicolt (tentative)
ENEMIES | NIO | WARRIOR CASTE | TERRORISTS | Amon Vizsla (tentative)

 

[Detritus Ren]

Location: Yinchorr
Allies: Unmarked Imperial Units
Enemies: GA Intelligence Units/ Open to Interaction
Objective: Iron Dawn


A Knight went where the New Order commanded. While Jin had recovered from the conquest that was Bastion. Now the allies that they had called the GA were slowly becoming a nuisance. It seemed that the past itself was repeating itself. The Alliance was more of a form of the Rebels of old, while the New Order represented the strong ideals of the Empire. It was a familiar game that was played between two old adversaries on the same Dejarik board. The great game as it always was, Now that they didn't have the Sith or a common enemy to fight against. Now as history has always done the old adversaries were about to meet once again.

The young man sighed to himself. He was perhaps one of the only active Knights to participate in the skirmish if one would call it that. The crossguard saber he wielded was close to his side as he remarked on his surroundings. Feeling in the Force, he felt many among him. Storm Commandos, Intelligence officers. Not any Knights that were anywhere near him. He pondered on if he would face the might of a Jedi. He never even dueled a Sith, much less a Jedi. He had never even had the honor of a proper lightsaber duel. He sighed again, his assignments had seemed boring, it didn't seem like he would get any action. He barely attained the glory he desired during Bastion, and yet he did have medals to show for it. Yet lacked something far more personal.

Despite his unwavering loyalty to the cause. To the right of being an Imperial, one so happily devoted to serving what he had often called "New Empire" He was wary. He was a man alone, crosslegged on the dirt before him. Unsure of what to do, what his tasks were. Yet here he was sensing, reaching out to what The Alliance was offering. At times he felt a dark voice call to him. Often taunting him to seek out and hunt down his enemies, but how could he hunt what he didn't know. What he didn't know to fight against. He was alone in this world seeking to influence the people and to continue expanding the New Order's beliefs and idealogy among it's people to bring about a peaceful and just galaxy for all.

He continued his meditation, shaking the dark urges for violence and destruction. Reciting the sacred values of what it meant to be a Knight to him. "Honor my sword, Loyalty my shield, Discipline my armor. I serve the New Order, and in turn it serves me. I will uphold and defend it's values from all it's enemies. If I cannot let death be my ultimate service." He recited the personalized mantra to himself taking a deep breath. His eyes opening, his hand gripped tightly to his sword. It had seemed that now a fight was brewing, and where it would be is where a Knight would be. So was the duty of an Imperial Knight.

 

[Bayaz]

Advisors. That's what the politically correct term was supposed to be for a role like this. The Intelligencia weren't incompetent leaders, their use of sound strategy and advanced technology put them a cut above the Warrior Caste's brute instinct and strength in numbers. But that was the issue. The Intelligencia were academics when it came to the harsh realities of warfare and they could only convince so many of the Warrior Caste to follow them as they had done for hundreds of years in spite of the "Influencers" riling up the Warriors.

And so the Alliance had sent several officers like himself, a small handful of Jedi, and an extremely small amount of troops for protection should anything have gone awry. Luckily, the Chancellor did not shy away from military action and he was clad in his armor, his helmet feeding him information from other groups. Just like the Intelligencia, the GA's advantage was their technology. As far as scouts had confirmed the group below was lightly armored, nothing to say who exactly they were...But Rail had a few ideas. Even still, it was a fortress they were heading to.

"But these damn Jedi," he muttered under his breath as he pulled the macro binoculars from his face. That damn idealist Maynard Treicolt had riled up the people after they found word of an advanced training facility. It was obvious the "Influencers" had paid for it to be refurbished. There were few Inteligencia among the Warrior Caste's ranks that had the credits or the influence to have such a facility constructed in such a short time frame. The young fool of a Jedi though had rioted the emotions of the Inteligencia, filling their heads with the notion that two weeks of training and experimentation was enough for them to take back their world. He didn't understand it. The boy had seen war. He knew the score.

Yet here they were, assaulting this facility. His com pinged.

"Lieutenant, the Jedi are charging," Rail cursed. His squad would have to move up to, along with the Yinchorri. He looked to the Intelligencia beside him.

"You hear that Karadek?" He asked. The massive reptilian nodded his squarish head.

"My people will follow," he said as he stood from his crouch. His flutter-pack buzzed to life, kicking up dust as its repulsors activated and the wings began to vibrate. He bent his knees, clutching his rifle to his chest, and leaped high into the air with a repulsor assisted boost. "TO ME!!!" he shouted. Dozens upon dozens of Yinchorri roared and leaped into the air as well, their Flutter-packs causing the air to vibrate as they shot forward over the hill.

"You heard the man," Rail muttered as he tapped his wristplate, activating his own rocketpack. "Let's fly," The citadel loomed ahead of them, the warrior caste filling the defense's ranks. Blue beams of energy tumbled at him almost lazily as he flew. A few of the beams crashed into the Yinchorri with devastating effects. Arcs of blue electricity rolled over their bodies and their flutter-packs, sending them tumbling to the ground below. Chiss charic weapons? Mixed with the beams were bolts of red and green as they got closer.

A bolt slammed into one of his men's packs, slagging the device. In a flutter of pannick he tossed the jetpack before it exploded, sending him plummeting down to the ground. With a curse, Rail dove after him, catching him under his arms. The added weight however meant now they were both falling, the pack only slowing their descent.

"By the Force, I told you to stop eating those damn Tavlar Cakes while we were in Bastion!" They landed with a thud, both of them rolling. Rail also discarded his jetpack. In a stroke of luck, it seemed they'd landed alongside the Jedi-led forces. An Intelligencia-aligned Warrior lifted both of them up by their collars and pushed them forward.

"FIGHT," it hissed, "THAT'S WHY YOU'RE HERE!" A sniper took him out mid syllable. Rail charged head-on.

 

[Daros Karmann]

GONE_FOR_A_DAY//LOOK_WHAT_HAPPENS
SPECIAL AGENT DAROS KARMANN
OPERATION : IRON DAWN

It had been hard work, convincing his old family to do as many runs as he had paid them to do. Even with the financial backing he provided, criminal families always knew when to stick their heads out and when to duck: running that many crates of contraband through customs and checkpoints was a lucrative prospect- but also an incredibly dangerous one.

Daros flipped through a catalog, ashing his spent cigarette on his desk. The latest designs that kept on cropping up meant there was always a demand for under-the-table acquisitions, at a far less riskier odds than the ones his family was running. He paused on the latest model of longblasters. He knew a few individuals who would pay for those models, not counting the allies he was helping to fund.

Atrisians. Kandarans. Yinchorri.

He moved onto the next page, a freshly lit cigarette between his clenched jaw. There was also a bunch of other radicals back on Ketaris, but they were no longer interested to buy his goods, not after their liquidation. The quality of his customer base was slowly dwindling, though profits were on the rise. If everything fell apart, Daros could flee and become the richest traitor the Imperials had ever had the displeasure of funding.

The agent looked up. The lights flickered briefly. Outside of his door, he could hear the trampling of boots and voices urging each other. He had already tossed his magazine aside when the warning blared through his intercom. The holstered pistol, the helmet, his rucksack- all were fitted onto his body by the time an orderly had rapped on his door. She gave him the situation- they were under attack, as if he needed her opinion on the matter, by Yinchorri. Possibly urged on by an external power. He tugged his gloves as he walked up from the basement- external power was just another name for two particular enemies on the Order's shit list: Sith or the GA. If he didn't see red glowing sticks among the fighting living, then he could bet credits on who the Yinchorri dissidents' allies were.

The orderly told him that he was needed up to support the defense, but Daros was also under his own orders.

He waved her away before turning right to the base's records room. Databases full of incriminating information, receipts and logbooks. He kicked the door open, startling a Yinchorri who turned around, staring at Daros with wide-eyed terror, hands clutching a cardboard box stuffed with reports. It didn't matter what those papers reported, to the COMPNOR, paper trails was both gold and poison. By handling information the Yinchorri was not supposed to touch, he had signed his own death warrant.

The reptile opened his mouth but Daros was quicker on the draw. His body jerked back to Daros' personal tune, bolt after bolt that impacted on his corpse. He didn't stop, emptying his blaster on the lizard's corpse as insurance. Was he ally? Was he enemy? In that very moment Karmann did not care, carefully stepping over the body as he moved to the data servers. The battle raged on upstairs as he pocketed the holodisks from the server. The door behind him creaked.

He whipped out his pistol and quickly primed a grenade from his belt. The previous orderly looked at him, confused and terrified, her mouth opened in a silent scream. Eternity passed between the two humans. She finally spoke, "W-wrong room."

Daros raised a finger to where his lips would be, behind his faceless mask. The woman nodded, and turned around when the agent gave the sign. She took a step, momentarily breathing a sigh of relief before crumpling forward.

He lowered his pistol and safely unprimed his grenade. No need to die a martyr just yet.

He merely slotted fresh holodisks into the servers and waited for the muted beep. In seconds, all that would remain within the empty husk of a server was a malicious worm. Daros flagged two passing Yinchorri and quickly had them haul the boxes and corpse to the incinerator for disposal. It was mundane work, and the Yinchorri aid did pass an air of gratitude for not being conscripted into dangerous work. When they confirmed there was no more paper trail, Daros added two more corpses to the incinerator.

With the trash disposed, Daros quickly ransacked the armory and came out better armed for battle: the Harbinger slung over his back as he craddled the Doombringer in his loving arms.

Glancing at the monitor on his HUD, he opened a tight-beam radio communique to a familiar figure as he walked into the surface of the base's compound.

"Deader, it's Karl." He paused to let the name sink in. "I'm about to go on a walk here, but it'll be nice if you point me at a couple of nice scenes to look at, take a few photos for the family." Any armoured targets?. "Get back to me when you're free."

Daros dropped the call and faced the compound, watching as the Yinchorri swarmed the wall's defenders. Technically he didn't care if the base fell, so long as no one could point fingers at his employers.


// ALLIES : NIO, AIF, KRIG, WARRIOR CASTE | Meko Sorrin Tavius Muuaji Amon Vizsla Konrad Bolter Noel Strasza ​

// ENEMIES : GA, INTELLIGENTSIA | OPEN​

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

LOCATION: Yinchorr
OBJECTIVE: Operation Wayward Light
ALLIES: GA - Open
ENEMIES: NIO - Open
KIT: Lesser Ring of the Protected Mind | Taxman's Embrace | Visions of Gold | REC-LA/02 Combat Armour
POST: I

Tithe leaned back in his chair, rubbed his eyes and groaned.

Whoever they were, they were good.

The former Sith-Imperial Moff rocked forward on his chair and opened a new query window on his holoterminal. He had come to Yinchorr alongside the contingent of military advisers, charged with using his keenly honed eye for finances to uncover who was funding the Warrior caste insurgency. While he bemoaned being away from Coruscant, at least he wasn’t directly involved in the fighting. And he planned to keep it that way.

Sequestered away in a TT-48 Armored Troop Carrier a short distance from the former Royal Guard academy, Aerarii trawled through the intelligence reports compiled by the Intelligentsia. The secretive backers of the Warrior caste had funnelled their credits through hundreds of front companies and straw men to cover the flimsiplast trail. Transactions were paid for in half a dozen different credit standards. Purchase orders and invoices had clearly been tampered with to hide the importation of weapons.

In other words, Tithe had no idea who was behind the Warrior caste insurrection.

But that actually told him a lot. There were not more than a handful of individuals in the known galaxy that had the skills and knowhow to outwit Aerarii Tithe when it came to matters of intergalactic finance. His task was quickly shifting from identifying the responsible party to instead ruling other parties out.

The armoured transport rocked on its repulsolifts as an enemy artillery shell exploded nearby. Tithe nervously looked toward the pilot's compartment, hoping they were competent enough to keep him out of danger. Once the compound was secured, he would roll in with the mop-up crew and begin sifting through any financial records they uncovered.

Until then, keeping a safe distance from the fighting suited him just fine.

 

[Adhira Chandra]

Alliance High Command
​

Deep in the bowels of the Galactic Alliance Executive Building, a conference room full of decorated Alliance military officers were debating a matter of seemingly great importance. People were on their feet, pointing at holographic projections, at times, shouting over each other. That is until the double doors leading into the room were flung open and Adhira Chandra stormed into the room. "Status report," she commanded as she made her way to the head of the long conference table and took her seat. After a brief moment of respectfully standing at attention, one of the admirals spoke up.​

"Ma'am, we've received an encrypted message from the people of Yinchorr..."​

Adhira raised an eyebrow impatiently at the name, prompting the admiral to bring up a galactic map with the planet highlighted almost exactly halfway between the borders of the Alliance and the New Imperial Order. The Chancellor's jaw clenched. Even before Adhira's ascension to the Chancellorship, a growing faction of imperial sympathizers had been causing problems in the Senate. The sight of the NIO on a map at all caused a pit in her stomach.​

"Apparently there has been a growing imperialist sentiment within their military ranks and-" the admiral looked around at his cohort as if to ask for help.​

"-and what, admiral?" she snapped, having very little patience for this exchange already.​

"-we believe it has something to do with the New Imperial Order." Her jaw unclenched suddenly and she sighed into her shoulder. Leaning back into the high backed metal chair, she brought a jeweled hand to her face and rested her chin against one of the large emeralds on her finger. "We recommend sending a task force to Yinchorr, investigate for ourselves, and move from there."​

"Very well. Patch me through to the High Admiral," the reaction was almost instantaneous, it took only a few moments for an image of the Alliance's second-highest-ranking military officer to appear before her. "Admiral Pryce, I am authorizing an expeditionary force to the planet Yinchorr... we need to know exactly what the hell is going on down there and who is responsible. Your forces are ordered not to engage unless they are left with no other choice. The last thing we want is a full-scale war on our hands."​

Adhira did not wait for a response before jamming one of the buttons on her command console, causing the image of Dracken Pryce to disappear. "Now, I will leave this in your capable hands... I have a long-overdue appointment with Irveric Tavlar ," Adhira said bitterly as she stood and departed the room in a whirl of purple.​

​

 

[Velexia]

Fighter: Hunter-class Superiority Fighter
Wearing: Orestiad Flight Suit
Onboard Equipment: Survival Kit │ BH ‘Durin’ Charric Blaster Pistol
Allies: NIO │ Yinchorri Warrior Caste
Enemies: GA ( Bayaz ) │ Yinchorri Intelligentsia

The Starfighter Corps had made Chasianna into a light sleeper.

She had developed a healthy fear of being woken up via sonic whistle during training, forcing her to become more efficient with her sleep habits by catching extra moments during the day amidst periods of inevitable downtime. To that end, it had not taken long for her to grow accustomed to sleeping in a shock couch, stealing valuable shut-eye whenever and wherever she could find it, no matter how awkward or uncomfortable. Nevertheless, while bunks were superior to any shock couch, her well-honed habits weren’t so weak as to immediately die off in the face of a warm bed. In addition, it had been a relatively easy day for her, having spent most of it standing or sitting around as her superiors trained the Atrisian and Yinchorri warrior pilots in flying TIEs. Chasianna had helped where she could, working with individual trainees to correct various minor mistakes, but the bulk of the work had been left to her superiors. Instead, she had been ordered to watch and observe, since presumably, she would eventually be called up to take up training duties when she was more experienced.

All in all, an easy day had made for an easy rest. As such, when the alarm sirens began to sing out within the base, Chasianna was immediately up and ready.

Her orders to scramble came immediately, and before long, Chasianna was suited up and swiftly climbing the ladder into the cockpit of her designated Hunter-class TIE. Slipping into the shock couch, Chasianna ran an abbreviated pre-flight routine before powering on the engines, which came to life with a soft hum that smoothly vibrated within the cockpit. Then, after skipping her fingers across a few more switches, she was ready to take off. Every moment spent on the ground was one wasted, allowing the enemy more time to achieve aerial dominance, potentially forcing the Imperials to go on the offensive in order to take back the skies.

The few other pilots who had managed to get to their craft took off quickly in a disciplined and well-oiled pattern. Chasianna was the last one to go from the initial group, accelerating her fighter into the pseudo-void of the twilight sky. From there, Chasianna gunned the twin ion engines and pushed her machine towards attack speed upon reading an incoming group of enemy signatures ( Bayaz ) that were approaching the base via flutter-pack and jetpack. Then, after switching her imaging overlay to thermal, she angled her fighter towards her targets and squeezed the triggers on her control sticks, sending off a fiery salvo of laser cannon fire towards the group of flying soldiers in an attempt to quickly cut them down from the skies.

 

[Lucien Dooku]

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

---

---

The assignment on Yinchorr was supposed to be a reprieve from the never-ending combat that the Legion had seen along the Braxant front. The Myrmidons companions of Lucien had fought their way up the Braxant since their inception at Muunilinst, and following the victory at Bastion, the Legion unit had long been deserving of some sort of break from the constant fighting along Sith-Imperial borders. That break had come in the form of an extended leave for the majority of his men, whereas his duties to the Order would find his services being loaned out far from his home in Nirauan.

A platoon of his companions accompanied him for this adventure into the neutral space just south of the order's growing borders. A mixture of Stormtroopers and their Mandalorian advisors were brought in to accompany him onto the world. Elements from the supposed 'elite' of the Order had already been present by their arrival; Compnor and a handful of classified units from other services formed the bulk of those present, which eased the pressure on Lucien, who shared little in their desire to achieve recognition through their participation in the operation.

It was supposed to be a vacation for him, until the alarms brought the entire operation to a grinding halt in seconds. Weapons were loaded and units moved to intercept the unknown enemy, who the locals assumed was just the Intelligentsia finally making their move.

Hesitation preceded his usual desire to call his companions into action, much to confusion of the charging Compnor elements ahead of him. Fighting Sith-Imperials was once thing, but dragging his men into a battle between rival Yinchorri factions did not sit right with him at first. He was half-tempted to arrange for an immediate extraction off world before the conflict grew in intensity.

And then an artillery shell exploded off to his right.

The sound of friendly artillery rocketing against the ground off in the distance brought him back to his senses after the disorientating shell had landed so close to him and his men. Eyes fluttered as he scanned over each of the men in his field of view- no casualties so far. The shell had landed far enough for the Myrmidons to avoid all but the tail end of the fragmentating shell which left a crater in its wake. "No tally on hostiles- sound off a headcount-" Luc called out on his comms as he moved to assess the situation. Rising to his feet with the assistance of one of the Mandalorian warriors present, he shook off the blast, the rest of his men slowly began to chime back their callsigns to him through their shared comms. Two dead, no wounded, by the end of the count.

"Fuck."

He cursed under his breath, rolling his neck to ease the stiffness as he glazed his eyes towards the horizon. Yinchorri equipped with flutter-packs struck the Imperial vanguard, only to be met with force-of-arms by a mixture of native Warrior-caste and Compnor fanatics across the frontlines. Two men out of a whole platoon was admittedly a reasonable outcome, considering his own life and limbs were still intact. Yet his ability to stay out of the fight had seen itself removed.

The jetpack attached to Luc's armor was brought to life as he continued scanning the ongoing skirmish from behind the lines. Throttling to life around him in near perfect unison, his companions followed suit, joining him in a chorus of monotonous humming that was the sound of their equipment idling together. Luc's attention shifted onto a section of the front- one that appeared lightly occupied in comparison to the frontlines elsewhere. The surprise assault on the Warrior-caste's forces had put them on the defense, and Lucien was never a fan of waiting for his enemy to come to him.

Jetpacks whined with activity as Lucien thrusted forwards, cutting across the narrow section of the frontlines that he'd zeroed in on previously. His Myrmidons companions followed behind with expert discipline, assuming a tight wedge formation behind their commander. The birds-eye view that their position afforded them was crucial for Lucien to decide their next course of action. They had managed to break through the attacker's line, abusing the chaos elsewhere around them to avoid getting dragged into a battle they'd have to finish.

As lackluster as the breakthrough had been, it did give him the ability to pick and choose what their directive was from that point forwards. He was fine with letting Compnor bog themselves down with the natives, and instead would do what he did best. The opportunity to do just that would come after a little bit of luck and reconnaissance played to his favor, as the Mandalorian to his immediate right spotted and tagged a troop carrier of familiar design, sequestered far enough back from the combat that Luc was fairly positive that it wasn't just incoming reinforcements.

All eyes focused upon the target, and with the wave of two fingers towards the ground signaled the unit to converge on the carrier from above. With their signature Vibroblades in hand, they descended all across the troop carrier's position at the top speed that their jetpack's could produce. The Mandalorians present would keep the transport in their sights, aligning their wrist-mounted launchers towards the target in case their maneuver needed a little improvisation towards the end.

That wouldn't be necessary, he hoped, as Luc wasn't all too concerned with looking for a fight. What he really wanted was information, and there was no better place to acquire that than from the command chain of the enemy itself. Allowing his companions to manuever through the air with the intent of throwing off the front and rear-facing cannons, Luc would dive straight for the top of the pilot's compartment, touching down onto the roof with a loud thud whilst their attention had been focused elsewhere.

The vibrant glow of an azure-colored blade emanated from the base of the black hilt he carried in hand. The very tip of the lightsaber would linger just centimeters from the glass, his eyes moving to meet the two pilots to add to the shock factor of his appearance. A smirk curled its way onto his lips as the blade pushed through the glass, melting around the plasmatic weapon, but not far enough that the pilots were ever in any harm.

The lightsaber retracted after he carved through half of the windshield, his comms switching over to an open frequency as he leaped off the roof and resumed hovering in mid-air. "It'd be wise for whoever's present to make their way outside." Luc would state calmly. "That is-- unless there's no room for us to be amicable about our situation. You've got sixty seconds before hostile designations resume." He clipped his weapon back onto his belt, moving his comms back onto his platoon's shared channel once it was done.

He figured they had no more than five minutes at best, assuming the occupants had already sent out a call for reinforcements. It wasn't much, but it was all the time he needed to have a quick conversation, and figure out what the hell was truly going on. ​

 

[Ravraa Vyshraal]

DORN-2 FIRETEAM
OBJECTIVE | IRON DAWN
TAGS IMPERIAL: OPEN
TAGS ALLIANCE: OPEN

| OPEN TO OPPOSITION |​

The leaves and brambles that the stormtroopers had nestled themselves into was poor cover, however, excellent camouflage. They had been dropped in hours before, a scouting mission they were told, and now the entire blunt of the Imperial warmachine was churning through the world, just like the endless others along the Run that Ravraa had hopped between.

The only difference was this time, he set the rules.

<“Dorn-2, sound off.”> Ravraa whispered into his helms comlink

<“Haupont in position.”>

<“Jeresan sighted in.”>

<“Here, boss. Dormyle.”>

<“Thav. Waiting for orders.”>

<“Ready, Captain. Mellfols.”>

<“Ight then, hon. You see that patrol o’r yander. On the road.”> Ravraa said to Jeresan, who was glued to the scope of his E-11s. Down the telescopics, plain as day, was a patrol of native Yinchorri, and what Ravraa assumed, was a spattering of various GA military personal and other unmarked individuals. Of course, no emblems, scrub your suits clean. It didn’t matter if they found stormtrooper corpses, as long as there was no dogtags, no identification, would it hold water in your precious senate?

Probably. Though, politicking would delay the inevitable for long enough.

<“Go ahead, make em afeared to be on open ground. Rest of yall, ‘old fire till they get at us.”>

There was a moment, two, the twittering of a bird the only noise outside of the rhythmic stomps of the approaching patrol detachment. Assumedly so, the front line vanguard of some advanced force to deal with the NIO presence and the various insurrectionists that sprung up across the surface of the planet. Growing just like spring time flowers, blooming too early. Though, there’s a fineline between a rose and a weed.

Jeresan’s breathing settled. Back and forth. Hand reaching up and fiddling with the scope of the rifle. Slapping it slightly, a move that any other marksmen would shiver at, though the sniper had his methods.

<“Stage fri-”> Thavimar began, before the E-11s suddenly snapped a bolt through the open air, traveling at breakneck pace, a full second resounded before the distant pinprick of the target dropped. The ants nearby him instantly taking to the side ditches of the road, entering whatever cover was in the area, before the sniper called off again, and again. Bolts coming in return, dotting the hillside infront of Dorn-2, though random enough to note that they seemed to have no proper idea on where the squadron was positioned.

<”Five credits he misses a shot, Mell.”> Haupont chimed.

<”You’re on.”>