Junction The Final Countdown - AC/NIO/EE/GA/Enclave/BotM Junction of Dromund Kaas/Centares/Lutrilla/Aruza/Hypori/empty hex above Sposia

[Voice of Ashla]

The former Sith capital of Dromund Kaas stands as the final bastion of the old regime, a symbol of the old ways of the Tingel Arm. This symbol must be cleansed, and given new meaning befitting of the new powers that control the region. The Ashlan Crusade has taken it upon themselves to spearhead this effort, gathering all of the strength they could muster in an attempt to finally take the planet. Allies from across the galaxy have arrived to provide support, eager to do their part in clearing the city once and for all. Little do the allied forces know, the ever-present threat of the Brotherhood of the Maw has taken this opportunity to strike while the iron is hot, hoping to crush many of their enemies in a single blow.

Taking Dromund Kaas was never going to be easy. Even after being abandoned by their former Sith masters, many of the population remain loyal to the old regime. Allied forces have been moving from district to district in an effort to thoroughly clear any remnant of loyalist forces. The Maw, waiting for their golden opportunity, have brought their wrath down upon the allies once they found themselves in their firefight with the loyalists. Now the allies are caught fighting on two fronts, one from within the bloody city streets, and one from the Maw’s vicious attack. The city must be cleared, but at what cost?

Within the jungles of Dromund Kaas lies the Dark Force Temple, an old site that has since become its own nexus. The darkness emanates from the structure, acting as a focal point for Force energies upon the planet. A group of Jedi have taken it upon themselves to cleanse the site, hoping to negate the power of the darkness on the planet for good. They are not alone, however. Within the shadows of the jungle lingers the New Sith Order, who seek to draw upon the power within the temple for their own gain. The jungles themselves have erupted with vicious fighting as each side attempts to navigate the thick foliage, each side attempting to outmaneuver the other in an effort to gain the advantage.

Above the jungle and city, the skies are riddled with storms of lightning and wind. The fleeting elements of the allied forces have been attempting to provide proper air support for those fighting below. The storms provide a unique challenge, however, as navigating the treacherous atmosphere has been difficult. Beyond the lightning and fog, the Maw fleet attempts to find their own way, hoping to catch their enemies off guard. Communication is difficult, and coordination is slow. Will the allied fleet manage to secure the skies, or will the Maw seize the opportunity to use the storm against them?

Spoiler: Map

Links: Dromund Kaas, Dark Force Temple

​

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud, Archon of the Primyn Group
Empress of Terraris, Supreme Commander of the Terraris Command, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium​

Objective: Purge the Sith, and occupy the city.
Location: New Kaas City, Dromund Kaas
Equipment: Kiss of the Red Witch | 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | The Soulsabers | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Writing With: Pietro Demici | Open
Allies: AC/EE/NIO/GA/Enclave | Baron Reinhardt Ström | Open
Enemies: BotM | Open

[ Empress ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

Ingrid had arrived in Dromund Kaas days earlier. The local HPI building and Tower Vandiir also had to be evacuated. None Sith sympathisers worked in her buildings, everyone was loyal to the company, Terraris Command, or just the woman, but since both the NIO and the Enclave were present, she expected nothing to be left of the city. She did not want to sacrifice her own assets and men. To show that she had no ulterior motives, or that Tower Vandiir had no Sith connection anymore, she offered the officers accommodation within the tower. At least as long as the place is safe.

The Empress loved this planet for one reason only; the sun almost never shone, but it was always overcast and it was raining. Although she would have enjoyed the snow better, not everything could be perfect. In recent days, the red-haired woman has helped Pietro Demici and the Ashlan Crusade here on the planet occupy the outer perimeters of the capital city. The Crusaders, Sisters of Ashla, and Ultranauts worked together for success. There was still tension between them, but the woman knew to earn the trust would take time.

Mainly because Demici didn’t trust them either; perhaps he was the one who trusted the least. The truth was, Ingrid really enjoyed the cardinal’s reactions to her presence. But that made it all fun. Of course, it did not hinder the work, as it was in their common interest to occupy the city as soon as possible, without any problems. And pretty much in one piece, probably. Some damage was cheaper to repair later than to completely rebuild the entire city or planet. Although this was her perception, the war was expensive, she tried not to spend on rebuilding if she didn’t have to, especially if they could avoid the unnecessary destruction.

Another "morning," it rained again when she arrived at the part where Cardinal Demici was. As soon as she saw it, Ingrid smiled broadly under her helmet, it was a rarely visible smile, and no one could see it now; she had a great time and greeted the cardinal from afar.

"Good morning, Cardinal! What are today's plans?" asked; despite being entertained by the situation, she was not for a moment disrespectful of the man or insulted him for his religion.

While waiting for an answer, she also opened a comm. channel in the direction of Baron Reinhardt Ström , if she got the answer from Pietro, she even asked her own man something.

<< Overseer, this is L'lerim! How are the preparations going today? >> she asked him.

This campaign was interesting and difficult, there were people everywhere with whom they had no diplomatic relationship, or it was just delicated. They hadn't worked with them since Csilla and Korriban, but there wasn't much interaction with them either. Here it was inevitable now. To date, as far as her calculations were plausible, she expected at most two endings. For a global world war, or just that, contrary to expectations, everything will happen perfectly…

Not very surprisingly, there was a better chance of total war…

 

[Eina L'lerim-Vandiir]

Lady Eina L'lerim-Vandiir
The First and the Light of Ashla
Heiress and Princess of the Eternal Empire and Terraris; Angelic Mascot and Representative of the Ashlan Crusade
Eternal Empire's Ambassador to the Ashlan Crusade; Matriarch of the Valkyrja; Leader of Sanctuary and the Fjölkyngi Smiđr Guild​

Location: New Kaas City, Dromund Kaas
Objective I.: Save the Children
Equipment: Sverð Fyrstr (swords) | Ljósspjót (spear) | Skrúð Engill Fyrstr (armour) || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m || Current appearance
Writing With: Zachariel Steelblood | Closed
Allies: AC/EE/NIO/GA/Enclave | Heinrich Faust | Isla Draellix-Kobitana | Open
Enemies: BotM | Open

[ War Music ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

Eina had never been to Dromund Kaas before. She knew that her family had countless interests in this place, nothing Sith, rather commercial, including the HPI, which had a large tower building here in the business district, to which she also connected through the Fjölkyngi Smiðr Guild. In addition, here was the Tower Vandiir and the Passion NightClub, which were still built by her father and were now owned by her mother. As far as she knew, Adrian would get it sooner or later. Adrian… meant Eina's brother.

And here was the building named after him. Ironically an orphanage. Vandiir Orphanage. She knew about her father that he didn’t want kids, and he didn’t really love them. Ironically, he now had two. None of them would exist if Darth Prospero were still alive. She knew the horrors her father had done; the Valkyrja had hoped she would be able to make amends some of this since her existence. And not just her, but all of the Valkyrja. They need to fix what Darth Prospero did with the souls.

She knew that most factions were not interested in civilians and that civilians would die. However, Eina looked like her mother in this, and as a Lightsider, she felt obligated to save lives. At least for those who haven't had time yet. For, by the way, as Valkyrja, it was her job to escort souls to the afterlife and take care of them. And now she wanted to save the children so they had a chance at a better future.

The woman with angel wings arrived near the orphanage from the Netherworld. She stroked with her hand gently the board with her father's name on it. She was quite a striking phenomenon in armour, with her swords on her back, a spear with a Light side aura in her hand, not to mention the wings of the huge red-and-gold, though she still pulled them together to not bother no one. That is, not to be too big a target in this place. It was raining, she was still looking at the city then she headed for the building.

Eina was quite special with her aura, as she was like Ingrid, only as if someone had mixed Ingrid's in another aura, another Force Signature. That was half of Adrian; it was her legacy, a sign that she was born of the souls of her parents, in a non-traditional way. Although it wasn't visible and could only be known by the person, she told it to. In addition, her voice was the same as Lady Ingrid's, and her features were similar. It was clear that she had a kinship with the Empress, though it was a rather special relationship; only Eina was fully Lightsider and her aura in the Force was a beautiful golden glow, and her physique like her mother's, ethereal.

In the meantime, she sent another message to Heinrich Faust and Isla Draellix-Kobitana .

<< I'm here in the city at the Vandiir orphanage. I try to protect and rescue the orphans before anyone hurts them. I'm fine, I'll be fine, you don't have to worry because of me! And please do not mention to Gei where I am. I don't want him to worry about me. >> however, she knew this, for her beloved, if he wanted to know this; it was a moment for him to find out due to the dyad.

 

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Ziare Dyarron | Keilara Kala'myr (Mercy)
COMPNOR (ISB) Junior Agent, Nite agent | Marauder and Agent of the Maw​

Objective I.: Doing her job and follow the warlord's commands.
Location: New Kaas City, Dromund Kaas
Equipment: FS-18-UP2 Omega Phase Assault Rifle | 2x PV-16 "Sunfury" Pulse Pistol | Light Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | 2x Vibrodagger || Stealth field generator || OPBC-01m
Writing With: The Mongrel | Open
Allies: BotM | Open
Enemies: AC/EE/NIO/GA/Enclave

[ New Order ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~"Telepathic" communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

As usual, I still came to the planet days or a week before everyone, to gather data and survey the terrain. Using Ziare’s data, codes, workplace and position, I was able to navigate even easier. I managed to find out that a large-scale action is being made against the planet, and the capital in particular. It was interesting to see that everyone but the SJC will be here. Did Lao-Mon almost break them? True, Ziara almost broke there too, so I'm not saying it has nothing to do with that attack. After all, the CIS attacked pretty much at once, and the CIS collapsed. Interesting coincidence.

I was standing on top of one of the buildings looking at the city and its surroundings. One thing is for sure, I hated Dromund Kaas; it was raining all the time, if not, it was still full of storm clouds and the air was humid. In a word: unpleasant. I would have liked to have been anywhere else, but the task was the task. I looked in the direction of the three citadels, the intelligence centre was my main target. There may be a lot of information out there that Maw, and of course me, can benefit from.

I’ve been watching the movement of the units and factions for a while now, one sure, we’ll surprise them soon. Were they expecting us? In the name of the Avatars, I doubted it. Here, anyone can count on Sith loyalists, not us. This will make the whole thing even more fun. And I would have to send the data to the warlord so he can start planning properly. The Warlord… it was an interesting story by now…

What happened aboard the Triumph was unexpected, not even I thought I would kiss him in the heat of the moment. And in particular, I didn’t expect he wouldn’t object, but would be happy to take that little "action". What will happen after this? I had no idea yet, but it was definitely exciting and interesting, not least because of his position and power. Never mind. The task is the first; so, I opened a communication channel in his direction.

<< Warlord, this is Mercy. I’m sending you the data from my last few days of my reconnaissance in Kaas City. What I know for sure is that the Ashlan Crusade and the Eternal Empire are already here and fighting for the city. Last but not least, from the data which I obtained as Ziare, I know that everyone except the Silver Jedi will be present who matters. Based on my plans, taking advantage of the chaos and fighting, I wanted to go into the intelligence building so I could steal data… but if you needed me elsewhere, I'd be right there! >> I said.

I looked around the city again, in the distance it was already on fire, the Crusades and the Ultranauts had been here for days, and the flames were burning merrily despite the rain. I hate rain…

 

[Rurik Fel]

E M P E R O R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
KNIGHTS OF THE EMPIRE
Iron Skin | Lightsaber
Noel Strasza

AMONG THE RUINS
​

The culmination of over a decade of struggle and triumph was soon to come to the precipice of its final throe into victory. A well-needed victory for an Empire battering down the hatches for a long winter ahead. There was no knowing what the future would hold, even the unmovable Rurik Fel could not be so confident in the machinations of what was to come.

But he could be assured of one thing, the last of the essence of darkness that lingered in the wake of the perfidious Sith Empire would be snuffed from the Galaxy once more.

Dromuund Kaas. The very last hold out of a remnant of deceit was seeing its final sunset in the coming wake of vengeance. The terminus of tyranny, the final chess piece- brought low. The Ashlan Crusade, the oh so wide-eyed state of moralist crusaders and zealots adherent to the light sought to bring the final thrust of the dagger into the blackened heart of a withering darkness.

The Empire who'd bled more than any other state to claw the path to this moment, would not merely stand to the side as the Essionian eagle rose alone amongst the ruins of the dark state. The Iron Sun would dawn over the world all the same and nothing would be left for the Sith to reclaim.

Their identity, their beliefs, their relics, and the essence of their being in the Galaxy...would be ground into dust. In any shred of their existence- there could be no peace, there could be no order. But to murder the Sith in their entirety was a near-impossible task...one worth embarking upon regardless. The culmination of what was Rurik's material ambition. Since when he was a Jedi Knight, ever zealous in his brutal opposition of darkness following the death of Corin, his once master and mentor, so much so that he found a home in the new Empire in-exile, the NIO.

<"I had always assumed we would be in the throes of this moment, en route to the world of Kaas...but not under these circumstances."> The Knight Admiral Wilhuff Krieg remarked as he looked over the holo map table before him in the command bridge of the Ferrata, the vessel making its reprise and return to the Imperial Fleet following its grievous damaging in orbit of Nirauan at the hands of the Maw. Kaas, an all but completely assured victory would serve an ideal return of the Crusade Fleet's flagship, an ode to Rurik's own nigh 'hit and run' behavior deep into Sith space throughout the Third Imperial Civil War.

"They're more favorable than the alternative, a true struggle against a defiant Empire- even in its death throes. Whatever is left of the Remnant I can only assume have already rejected themselves to defeat...but I doubt it will solely be the Remnant we come across here. The Maw will not allow such a spectacle go on without their tampering. So too will the Alliance, the Eternal Empire see themselves apart of the spoils, carving a piece of the political capital that comes with merely being present in this cataclysm." Rurik remarks as he peered over the holo map.

<"And what are our rules of engagement toward them? Our investigation into the Partisans suspect links to the Alliance but, well...hardly anything concrete has come our way. To put our forces at ri-"> Rurik motioned a rare interruption of the Admiral.

"Dromund Kaas...will be put to the sword. Any and all standing in our way will be heaped unto the funeral pyre with the rest of the smoldering ruins of Kaas. Regardless- your task and purpose is known, but yet so is that of my Executor- where is she?" He asked before he heard the metallic hiss of the door opening behind him, Fel turned to see the death dealer opposite of him, much a mirror image of himself in that he too was largely devoid of emotion, united one with metal and machinery with the same singular, decisive aim in their eyes.

To kill.

"You know what we are soon to embark upon. The End. Within the next few hours we will make way to the final destitution of our existential enemy. It will be our last respite until we face the Galaxy in what comes ahead...but your assignment is a much more direct one." Rurik remarks, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I know better than to think the demon of the Maw will sit idly as Kaas is burned. He will want his place in the carnage- he will want his place in the suffering and chaos. Thus you will do as I had done and the late Lord Vaulkhar did in the reins of Lord Executor." Rurik said, rounding the holo table before standing directly before Strasza.

Two strained gazes buried in a visage of metal peering one into the other.

"You will find him...and you will kill him." Rurik states in command.

"If you can not seize his life on the field of battle...make good on making him wish that you had. You are my weapon and you are my will where I am not. And my will shall be done. He will be expecting me to face him once more- he will be sorely disappointed." Rurik iterates.

KAAS '70​

As he finally donned the full, precision crafted panoply of war, he made his way to the shuttle awaiting him as his battalion of 501st Stormtroopers made their way to their own counterparts, to embark unto the final vindication of the long struggle now finally meeting its end. As he entered the shuttle, he stood before a holoprojection from which his image would impart until nearly all mission relevant Imperial holo communication systems. From there- he spoke.

"Sons and daughters of the Empire. Today- we build the pyre to light aflame the last remnants of our great enemy. The Sith...and their fallen empire. They sought to drive us to ruin over the course of our existential war. They reached into the Galaxy and pulled every desperate ally to their side but in the end...they have met their reckoning- they count down their final breathes to last...and now, the Iron Sun rises over Dromuund Kaas and in all of its reach- will leave nothing but devastation...nothing but anguish for all that remains. " Rurik says, his steely conviction breathing through every word as what seems to be vitriol threatens to burst to the surface.

"Today- we let the Galaxy know what it means when they adhere themselves to the darkened path, when they submit to the depravity and broken promises of a dead creed. The past dies and in its wake the future follows, an Imperial future. Leave no quarter to any who stand in the way of our retribution. Our will- our righteous march will not be hindered and will not be stopped. For The Empire." He said and the communication cut off.

OPEN FOR OPPS​

 

[Rowena]

Location: Vehicle Bay
Call Sign: Delta Nine
Objective: 1 - Once More Unto the Breach
Allies: BotM ( Keilara Kala'myr )
Enemies: Everybody!
Direct Engagement: Open!

It was massive.

Over 15 meters tall, the hulking form of the Throne Breaker-class Assault Walker within the vehicle bay stood ready before the comparatively tiny pilot, as slaves and Drudges scrambled around her, making the final preparations to ready the vehicle for war. Missiles were loaded into racks and lifted into the launchers, while belts of ammunition for the mass drivers and ripper were sorted, then loaded into the cannons.

Before long, their destructive power would be at her command.

With a sharp intake of air, Rowena climbed the ladder up into the cockpit of the walker. Once inside, she took stock of the controls, of which she was only partially-familiarized with. The Maw’s seemingly nonstop crusades were a perpetual drain on its ranks of slave-soldiers, pilots, and gunners. As such, Rowena had been pulled from her normal duties as a gunner on the Fatalis to pilot one of the massive war machines of the Holy Crusade. Unfortunately, her training was extremely rushed and perhaps, less-than adequate. Nevertheless, Rowena felt and was indeed, massively empowered inside the machine, far beyond the limits of her diminutive physical frame.

Where she stood at less than a meter in height only moments before, in placing the bulky Neurocrown over her head, the tiny Asa’nyx felt the rush of feedback flow into her awareness and suddenly, she was an armored, mechanical giant, armed to the teeth with heavy weapons capable of inflicting untold amounts of destruction. Then, with a series of mental commands, Rowena roused the beast to life, the reactor giving a low, resonating growl as it was stirred from its slumber.

It would not be long before the titan was cast forth unto the breach.

Spoiler: Loadout

• “COB” Throne-Breaker Assault Armored Walker
  
  • M-G-2 General Purpose Warhead Launchers [4]
    
    • Seismic Missiles
    • Seismic Missiles
    • Advanced Concussion Missiles
    • Advanced Concussion Missiles
  • Breshig War Forge Consolidated RHM-04 Repeating Heavy Mass Driver [2]
    
    • HEIAP
    • HEIAP
  • Breshig War Forge Consolidated HRR-02 Heavy Repeating Ripper
    
    • AP-HE
• Pilot Gear
  
  • DS-101 “Venture” Multipurpose Protective Attire
  • Nano-Core Blaster Pistol

 

[Noel Strasza]

MANHUNT
THE IRON MAIDEN
LORD EXECUTOR
NEPHILIM | SHOCKGAUNTS | PRIMARY | SECONDARY | GRENADES
// Rurik Fel \\

​

No answer carved from the flesh or stolen from the breath of those she asked could satiate the questions she clutched tightly to her chest, the hows and whys. It was as useless as it was fruitless; scouring truths from maddened tongues, rearranging the broken fragments of insanity into a form more sensical. It mattered little that she had the woman she was after in custody, that she had wrenched and torqued limbs, twisted bones, sundered skin. Once she would have protested the cruelty, once she would have spat in the faces of the commanders who ordered it. That shadow of conscience, the mortal reminder of the soldier she had been was silent, daring not even an utterance of defiance in the face of the executor she had become.

The viper's lieutenant was as infected as he, yielding her nothing useful despite hours of grueling treatment to cure her psyche. No moments of clarity had broken the expansive blackness. Infuriating as it was, Noel had taken her leave from the smothering room to return to her routine, and rather than investigate, now she was on the trail- sent for blood. The cold vessel ushered her closer to oblivion, that daring tango with death that once frightened her did so no longer, as warped in the limbo as she had become. There was little else to do in times like these, little else to ponder beyond the ravenous wolves howling beyond their boundaries and snatching their citizens in the night.

This war with the Maw had cost them much. Yet if there was anything the Empire would do, it was stand. They had banished Darkness to the realm beyond thought before and would do so again, though the stage was set this time against their foil, the sole threat of genuine proportion to their Order; Chaos incarnate. Much like the Emperor, she considered Dromund Kas would not be without an appearance from their hedonistic adversaries, no, the battlefield would be far too ripe with spoils to satiate their bottomless hunger for them to remain absent. The thought of getting her fingers around the Dark Lord's throat once more drew a deep line in her brow, creasing it with malice, until the very same fists found themselves clenched tightly by each of her sides.

Authority weighed the stride carrying her to the command deck, and it was only after entering that she drew to a halt, squaring herself with dead intent across the projection from the hand which beckoned her. Cold steel tensed, mock fibers tensing from their organic beds off each side of her skull, her jaw brought to clench. Crimson eyes flicked down, absorbing the information presented only briefly as her posture eased, overcome by the inhuman stillness apt of it. He was right, she did know what this battle was to be.

Rurik's next words carried a note of damnable conviction that resonated in her chest, stamping out the flickering embers of exhaustion that had grown too comfortable plaguing her as of late. He took to motion, his approach earning a steady gaze which burned with a heat polarizing to his cold resolution. His wrath was contemplated, brooding, and insidiously silent. It manifested in the guttural edge to his words, eviscerating doubt and leaving it on the floor where it belonged beneath his heels. Her own was violent, explosive, and raged with molten malevolence that scorched her every word and boiled the blood coursing through her mock veins in an endless cycle. He was an ice age; she was a holocaust.

The comparison between Darth Solipsis and a demon would've brought a smirk to her twisted face, had she still the full range to portray it. There were no such things as demons or monsters, not in this galaxy, not anymore. Once upon a time, perhaps, she too would have drawn that comparison. But now, these years had starved her zealotry from its roost and sent it elsewhere. There were only men who sauntered around with twisted visages and visions of grandeur, those who claimed to be monsters and villains. They were as simple as any mortal being, as simple as the blood in their veins, and it all flowed the same to her.

The revenant she was, her fury was undying.

"I will kill him." Though she did not doubt Fel's capability to dance and duel with the Dark Lord, she possessed a substantial advantage against him that Rurik did not; she was nothing to The Force. "And when I'm done," the cyborg continued coldly, "I'll find Halketh. And then Mori. Ren. The Mongrel. Steelblood. Starfall." The list was punctuated by the shift of her weight, the machine casting back to her heels, "They can hide in their spires for as long as they wish, there will be no place they can evade my judgment."

"When I see you next, it will be bearing good news, and if I don't see you again-" the cyborg reached outward, laying a heavy hand upon his armored shoulder, "-leave me to waste on the battlefield where I belong. And finish what was started. By any means necessary."

As quickly as the touch had been laid upon him, it was gone, and so too was she.

COMING FOR THE SMOKE
// Darth Solipsis \\

​

 

[Darth Ptolemis]

Equipment.

Traden Avarice

DROMUND KAAS

TLDR: Orlov is wading through the jungle to reach the Dark Force Temple, but is warned by the Force of imminent danger.

During the day, the jungle felt derelict. Its inhabitants in hiding, its flora – motionless. Only the noise of the clashing waterfall ahead broke the foreboding silence of Dromund Kaas' lush biome. Where he stood, the water was slow and ankle-high. Following its descent from above, it opened up into a shallow pool, only to once again dive down below from the edge of the naturally-formed, elevated terrace. The waters have sculpted a geological formation most akin to gigantic stairs into the dense forest, a way for the water to cascade down step by step into the obscure underbrush. The waterway was a brief refuge from the suffocating, unrelenting foliage around it. The lack of a canopy above the pool gave way for a mellow microclimate; the influx of sunlight warmed the smooth waters, brightened the greenery and provided plenty of sustenance for the thriving microbial life. A true pearl of hope; a serene symbol of how this planet may be redeemed.

But then, the sky cracked.

The Maw had arrived. Clad in darkness. Armed with violence. Given strength, by the Dark Three. The neophyte apprentice of the New Sith Order stood at the centre of the pool, the environment slowly atrophying by his mere presence. The heavens groaned in pain as the threatening clouds twisted and furled, tortured by the brutal change in the atmosphere; rain began to fall in the form of razor sharp spikes, and a single lightning strike plunged this side of the planet into a storm of conflict.

There the pale ghost of a Fondorian was, in the thick of it, on his way to the Dark Force Temple; a place molded by the Sith – bearers of the forbidden torch. Anointed by his master, the baleful apprentice is ordered to carve his name into the fabric of destiny. To project his disgust with the galaxy onto its perpetuators. To unleash this torrent of hatred upon those mired in denial. To enter the temple – and eat the heart of darkness.

To face the Jedi.

Oily shadows crawled like snakes around the hooded stranger; his eyes closed, his head bowed down. The Sith apprentice is expanding his consciousness in every direction; his mind poisoning the land itself with dread and suspense, traveling seamlessly along the stormy winds. He is done searching for a way forward; the Force shall free him. He lifts his head and clenches his fist, drops of purple blood tainting the shallow pond below as the earth rumbles beneath his feet. Snapping branches and tearing vines are heard as a linear wound erupts through the vegetation, in the direction of the force nexus. He releases his hold on the Force and exhales, lowering his arm. His dark ambitions wear him like a suit of flesh, his brooding demeanor and internal drive in sync with the oncoming storm – for this gauntlet ahead of him shall test his capabilities and challenge him to his core. He must not fail; he must prove his mettle to the Order… and above all, his master.

The downpour shall soon evoke a flood; it was time to go – yet as he takes the first step, the Force tugs at him, a subtle sense of the unknown hitting him in the chest. He stops, and listens; his face slowly turns to the side, his pale eyes scanning the creaking woods around him ever so slowly. This alien feeling latches onto him like a parasite; unwilling to let go. He raises his haunting gaze at the sky, where a flock of fleeing birds take on the murmuration of a screaming face only for a moment; the second passes, and the face folds in on itself as the birds dissolve into the distance. Still facing the black clouds overhead, the apprentice closes his eyes and opens his arms, channeling the dark past of this planet through his very being, as he spews forth a bone-chilling summoning. – REVEAL YOURSELF!​

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

1st post
THE FINAL COUNTDOWN
Objective 1: Once More Unto The Breach
The_Woad
IMPAF-Command

313th Stormtrooper Legion,"Sabretooth Legion"

NIO: Kovacs Delilah Jones Shai Maji Julian Qar
Keilara Kala'myr

Allies: Vulcan Krayt Ingrid L'lerim Eina L'lerim-Vandiir

Enemies: Rowena

ERSKINE'S LOADOUT
Basket-Hilted Vibrosword Claymore
Fragarach Model Heavy Disruptor-Pistol
Sentimental-Value Fairbairn Vibroknife
Beskar Knuckledusters
Erskine's New arm

THE LAST DANCE: BARRAN'S FAREWELL TO THE SITH EMPIRE - PROLOGUE

The Great Imperial Library, Ravelin,
Bastion (870 ABY)

'My thanks for the patience, Ms. Letham. You may return to your regular duties for now - it appears I have everything I need this time around anyway.'

With the relevant forces summoned to battle, it wouldn't be long before Lord Erskine's name was mentioned in relation to the Ashlan attack on Dromund Kaas, though this time, Barran would consider a smaller IMPAF showing for the sake of allowing the replenishment of his Sabretooth troopers to take into effect properly. So, with all the right playing-pieces readied for deployment already, everyone serving the Lord-General's endeavours this time around would find their own ways to pass the time, waiting on the refuelling of the NIV: Tigress as the other Imperial aircraft were already well on their way to the old Sith capital. For the Stormchaser, this could only involve a visit to the only place outside the Heartlands that ever made any sense to him, the Great Imperial Library of Ravelin - Lord Erskine's very own humble, reverent realm of ambitious dreams.

'Fair enough, sir. Speak soon.'

Leaving the Lord-General alone with his requests, Ms. Letham's high-heels would click across the marble flooring, down the hall to the reception at the main entrance, steadily receding in echoes to silence and peace to read without interruption. "Remnants: The Desperation of Sith-Loyalists in Exile", and,"The Shadows of Exegol", were the orders of the day this time, and to make the readings even more essential was the fact the authors were both retired soldiers of the Galidraani Free-State, and not a single soul could be seen or heard to distract Lord Erskine from it. The only thing he could hear was the rain beating against the windows, drawing the old man's attention to the streets outside, looking through the glass of the window nearest him to see the shimmering droplets seemingly paint Ravelin with the prettiest watercolours imaginable; a pretty sight for all it was worth, though Barran couldn't help but admit that it made things feel somewhat more cosy on the inside looking out, though at least in comparison to those struggling with the weather outside.

'Heh! At least it's not acid-rain anyway.'

All the quiet wonder was further-adding to the serenity as Lord Erskine finally ventured to open the book on the Sith remnants for the first time, lighting a cigarette as he did so - with a lighter that the Lord-General had taken to leaving magnetically stuck to the inner-wrist of his cybernetic left arm of late. Little habits picked up along the way, among other things, and all very noticeable to the Lord-General as each new trait took precedence over all it's predecessors, traits Barran knew he was none too fond of in such moments. Such was life as the Lord-General of the Imperial Armed Forces, though he never had to like it, especially if it meant smoking more than drinking in the latter years of his military career; if Lady Carla disliked the chainsmoking, then there was every reason to see the difference it had made on his image as something quite counterproductive indeed, something the Stormchaser was quite keen on rectifying before long.

But not on that day, not while he had the free time to himself - free time to do as he pleased before embarking on deployment once and for all.

The last effort to rid the Galaxy of the Zambrano holdouts, held off for so long on account of the fact Dromund Kaas had become almost entirely irrelevant after the fall of the Sith Empire, only relevant once more due to the fact the Ashlan Crusade weren't quite finished with the Galaxy's former tormentors yet. This was to be an extermination, as all who dared stand against the Imperium in it's darkest hour before had been wise enough to make themselves scarce in their own, for having the audacity to strike out beyond that point would only strengthen the Imperator's Casus-Belli for decades after. Even if the Ashlans were the ones fated to lead this endeavour, there would be nothing stopping the Imperium's finest from having their say on Dromund Kaas, nothing impeding Fel's vision from finding manifested will on the one planet everyone despised more than the others.

THE LAST DANCE: BARRAN'S FAREWELL TO THE SITH EMPIRE - PART 1

Historical District, Kaas City,
Dromund Kaas (870 ABY)

'Sir Rosk'Aiar's just asked what we're doing here if we're not just executing the locals?'

Seeing the obvious truth that they'd get no such information from them or any other locals like them, and certainly not as the city burned all around the Lord-General's little war-party, so all that remained was to execute whoever and whatever would probably share information that would get everyone there with the Stormchaser killed. The small war-party would be grateful for this, as the reliance on the NIV: Tigress' ground-bombardment capabilities had meant not being able to rely on a still-reorganising Sabretooth Legion, leaving them without a trooper-majority to utilise to their advantage on that occasion. None minded this, but the IMPAF-Knights knew they'd be hypervigilant for the entirety of the operation's lengthy proceedings, a small blight they knew was a small sacrifice for the safety they would seek in low numbers; their rationale was simple as far their role as executioners went,

'Finding symbols of Sith legitimacy that can be used against us in the future, taking the most-dangerous evidences of this and destroying the rest with the Tigress' firepower.'

An easy task to see to, but still one that surely required their full attention in the right settings, and Kaas city's Historical District was littered with them in abundance, something Lord Erskine had been counting on greatly; Barran also intended to coordinate with other units that day, understanding that there would be several of the Imperium's best and brightest on Dromund Kaas with their own directives to endeavour, so some of that time would be spent locating and linking up with as many of their comrades as possible. Everything about that outing, right down to the investigative framework, had been mapped out by the Lord-General personally, knowing how careful he would need to be throughout. Since joining the NIO in 863 ABY, Barran had been nothing but an issue for the enemies of Irveric Tavlar and Rurik Fel respectively, making more than enough enemies of his own in the process of surviving the next seven years; and so, in being acutely aware of this fact at all times, Lord Erskine knew that this would never be felt more intensely than it would on the surface of planets like Korriban, Ziost and Dromund Kaas alike.

<"Barran to Bridge! Ready to fire on the last of the district's corporate skyrises.... Mark targets - fire when ready.">

<"Copy that, Lance One! Brace for the shockwave. Bridge One out!">​

With fewer buildings and houses on the horizon, there would be fewer spots that hidden enemies could use for cover, or as a means to hide and snipe at their positions with impunity, and the Woad was more than happy enough to deny the sneaky ones of their little reprieves - scant though these reprieves would have been at the time.

Then, as soon as the buildings on the near-horizon were atomized from above, with the promised shockwave shaking the inner-city districts all around the blast-radius not an instant later, the Stormchaser chuckled as he turned back to his bodyguards, beckoning them follow as he stepped into the library they had only just searched through for propaganda and subversive reading-materials. 'Everybody else out! I want a word with my knights alone, s'get shiftin'!', the Lord-General exclaimed to start, imparting a need for silent urgency before he even ventured to pause for effect. When the entrance doors closed up behind them, Lord Erskine continued to walk deeper into the library-complex with his back turned to the others until he stopped at the,"Rare Literature", room, opening the door and walking in before finally turning round to address his subordinates' concerns.

'Everything in this room, absolutely everything in this room can be used to radicalise a Sith-remnant element against us - not joking in the slightest, lads.... There can be no stone left unturned, not at the most-vital part of erasing the Zambrano filth's dynasty from history and recollection alike. Failing here means losing everything to these freaks down the line, as we cannot count on future generations to finish our work in our absence.'

'Alright then, get the fuck out and leave the burning to me.', Sir Martin retorted, lighting a cigarette and setting the first of the rare-literature collection ablaze in the process. Barran would then snatch the book out of Wyll's hand and slam the hardback shut, unleashing a billowing series of paper-ember smoke particles everywhere as the recently-knighted subordinate looked on disapprovingly, concluding,'Take it easy, sir. We obviously know what's at stake! Served in the same civil war, did we not?', before being rounded on with a viciousness that expressed a promise of genuine violent intent beyond that point. Wyll had never seen this intensity in his Lord-General before, but in that moment, the young former-staffer was glad to see it; previously unsure if the Woad still had that animal roaring out from within him or not, the sudden fright was serving it's purpose in assuring Sir Martin that his life and career were still in good hands after all.

'I can only hope so, Wyll. You do worry me at times, even now.... I need you to keep your wits about you - aye. You, most of all.'

'Best behave yersel, Martin. Its not just the Lord-General who's worried.', Lord Carwood chimed in, stepping up between his Lord-General and the subordinate in question as the city continued to burn from it's first few rounds of pre-deployment bombardments. Executions could be heard a few streets away, with shouted timings and synchronised trigger-pulls clearly audible over the sounds of the distant crumbling architecture, though this wasn't doing anything to dissuade or dishearten the 2nd-Lieutenant, as he was steadily showing signs of receptiveness to suggestions already, which was enough for McGechin to relent with a polite tilt and nod of his head. Turning his attention back to the Stormchaser, Lord Carwood silently nodded regained confidence and muttered,'Ease off, his eyes aren't so insufferable any more.', before stepping back to study the books on the table in the corner for a while.

'In any case, as soon as we're done here.... None of this city block is going to exist when we clear it, so there's literally no point setting books ablaze', Lord Erskine continued on from his old friend's assurances, taking a little look around for himself as he considered the amount of headache's he'd be alleviating down the line, and all with a simple transfer of their exact coordinates to the star-ship skirting the planet's orbit above them. As his gaze returned to the others, the Lord-General smirked in silence before concluding,'The Ashlans might be the coordinators of the first push, but everything else is MY PROVERBIAL CABBAGE-PATCH!!!! I coordinate the rest! And I want to do a wee-Csilla, boys.... I want to collect some heavy-hitters for a little something I'm brewing up. Cunning, this is the new mission-statement.', with every confidence that what he planned was the safest course of action in such a setting.

'Starting with my champion.... The 16th are going to be needed - on this matter, we all can agree.'

 

[Isla Draellix-Kobitana]

​

Spoiler: Grand Fleet of Ashla

Ashla's Might Super Star Destroyer

1 x Noble Crusader Battlecruiser
Bane of Darkness

2 x Dragoon Class Battlecruiser
Fist of Demici
Vaunted Saint

5 x Templar Class Star Destroyer
Wisdom of Tython
Bosph's Guardian
Reprisal
Miraculous Hand
Lord Torrodus

12 x Dominion Class Escort Frigate

12 x Principality Class corvette

6 x Warden Class anti-starfighter frigate

Even split complements of
Pegasus Interceptor Starfighters
Phoenix Multirole Starfighter

Numerous
Ashla's Mercy orbital insertion shield generators

Infantry available

Ashlan Marines
Sisters of Ashla

Spoiler: Isla's Personal equipment

Admiral's Sabre
Ashlan Rosary
Viper Skin Suit under uniform
Personal guard of Ashlan Praetorian droids

The massive Ashla's Might and the bulk of the Grand Fleet dropped out of hyperspace not far from Dromund Kaas and was immediately met with incoming fire from the long range batteries on two deep space defensive platforms in orbit around a nearby moon. At this range the firepower was an irritant and could be handled by the behemoths shields, provided they kept targeting the super star destroyer instead of any of the miriad of much smaller, but harder to hit supporting warships.

Isla stood in her walk in holosuite as data pings fanned out across the star system, fling up the room with holographic representations of the battlefield and all of the other vessels in it colour coded by factional allegiances. Her ship was on the centre of the room where she stood and the digital avatar of SAINT stood next to it, looking up at the ships as if she was in awe at a huge starscape, SAINT was still monitoring and mimicking her own emotional response to gain trust it seemed. It was an awe inspiring sight, the Grand Admiral had not seen so many ships in a single place since the Battle of Korriban, she winced a little she the thought of just how many casualties that battle caused.

Every one of these forsaken rocks across the Stygian Caldera represented a stepping stone to pushing the Sith out of their ancestral homes, but the costs in life and materials of war were staggering, and there was only a few people amongst the crusade, her included that ever got to see the real figures. There was a humming noise as the Super Star Destroyer's main batteries began to open fire. The long range Malmourral Cannons and Meteor Particle Cannons began to open fire on the defensive structures that were now peppering her fleet, the Templars star destroyers would also follow suit, volley after volley of the high power cannons would pass through the enormous distances towards their target before exploding against the shielded and armoured surfaces. It was an easy shot, the orbital paths being entirely predictable, but being able to dedicate all your engine space to defense systems made you tough and it took several volleys before the reports came back that the first station had been destroyed. Isla swept the room sized holo with her hand, from this distance they couldn't even see their target and yet now thousands of defenders were destroyed or fighting for the escape pods. It was so easy to lose sight of that, an many Admirals did.

The remaining defensive station was now firing on her star destroyers, the distance having dropped to make them a more viable target and Reprisal was taking hits. Her captain was taking evasive actions to ensure her stronger shields were rotated toward the incoming firepower, but the ship was already beginning to take some damage from the heavy railgun emplacements.

<< I'm here in the city at the Vandiir orphanage. I try to protect and rescue the orphans before anyone hurts them. I'm fine, I'll be fine, you don't have to worry because of me! And please do not mention to Gei where I am. I don't want him to worry about me. >>

A message came through from Eina and Isla replied. SAINT intuitively joomed the hologram in close too the planet where she was to give Isla an idea.

"Good luck Lady Eina, I am launching three Mercy pods to protect your location." she nodded to SAINT's avatar whi carried out the instruction. "They will take about 11 minutes to arrive at best speed from this distance, you can aim them with your own command codes, but they will land automatically and deploy based on SAINT's best calculations. May Ashla be with you, may she be with us all."

She would need to speak to the fleet next, she reached to close the holo and switch to comm projection mode, but not before seeing the defensive position blossom in a shower of escape pods as Ashlan firepower finally shattered its hull.

 

[Mairéad Solus]

Alternate Location: Abandoned Sith ruin near southern Pole
Objectives: search for information
Tags: Vulcan Krayt

Equipment:
Velmorite bladed lightsabers
Comm device
Blaster pistol
Rappelling line
FC-20 Speeder bike
Marzanna

This was taking too long! Mairéad thought to herself as she climbed her way to the rope of the next ruin, supposedly, at the top of one of these towers was a metal dish that would be contain an etched map to some long dead Siths Ice Saber, but seven towers down and no dish. She was no thinking it was a wild goose chase and the man she got the information from may have tricked her. There was one tower left on the octagonal ruin, but there was a blizzard coming in, and despite not being bothered by the cold, visibility was poor and the winds were slowly getting worse. She would need to return to Marzanna and get off this planet. Her ship was parked a half dozen miles away at a small village that clung to the leeward side of a small mountain for protection. She had parked there as to not draw attention to her actual goal, but it did mean she was a little cut off, with only her speed bike here. She had been suprised when she arrived at the ruin to find a tribe of ice dwelling locals, she didn't understand the local language very well, but got the impression that this was a safe refuge they used from time to time whilst hunting.

There had even been talk of a massive invasion force coming, she did not intend on being on the surface for that, she had very few friends and any one of the invading forces may mark her for death. The Crusaders had a significant bounty on her head too, since she escaped the clutches of their Jurors and went on to murder a load of slavers in on zygerria.

She spat just thinking if those asses she murdered, they deserved no better than they got, and now she was the wanted criminal. Life was not fair, she had always known that, but to have a bounty on her head for killing people that had done nothing but causing suffering took the cake.

There was a strange noise that rang in the background over the wind, looking up, she saw the unmistakable silloutte of an X-wing starfighter. She had a bad feeling coming over her, almost like a premonition but more generalised. Could it be a Juror that had tracked her down? The Ashlans didn't use X-wings but there could always be a first time? she tried to shake the feeling off, it could likely be nothing, maybe just someone else looking for some shelter from the weather. She wasn't naive and that feeling wouldn't go away. She reached down and checked her lightsabers were safely attached to her waist. The snow seemed to be lightening up a little now, but the x-wing had landed just out of visibility range. She would have to be careful.

 

[Anashja Tal]

Location: Rehabilitation clinic Tanaab

Equipment: State of the art medical facility

Objective: Prepare to receive casualties

Tags: Lana
and anyone that doesn't want a direct fight but wanted to thread​

The young mandalorian woman walked the halls of her new medical clinic, it had only been finished and opened mere weeks ago and she was chief of medicine here. The plan had been to open this place for a long time, with Anashja having a keen interest in medical and psychological rehabilitation, but its opening had been pulled forward in preparation for the invasion of Dromund Kaas. There were six different major factions sending armies and with the likes of the Maw and the Enclave involved the fighting would be brutal and the casualties would likely be astronomical. Her and her vod would be in the vanguard of the healing initiative and had already received casualties from minor skirmishes between vessels on route.


She did not envy those heading to the front, even if she hadn't relinquished her Enclave citizenship over the war with the Eternal Empire, she worried about the few friends she had amongst their lines. She didn't feel right staying back, so far from the fighting, but she had gone past the point where she would be a useful combatant and could do significantly more to help from here. Thankfully her morning sickness seemed to be under control, but now the back pain was a problem. She couldn't fit inside her beskar comfortably now, but the armoured back plate made an excellent lumbar support so she still wore that section underneath her white medical scrubs.


She looked over at her friend Lana, she had met at a strange celebration between the Enclave and Galactic Alliance, where she had also met another friend Stone. She was glad to hear her volunteer to help her, as a padawan Jedi, the front would be dangerous fighting, but like her, she could be a huge support putting injured soldiers people back together, regardless of their allegiance.


She scanned her datapad on the wall as she entered the small ward where Lana was working already and approached a client. "Good morning Sergeant, I think we need to talk don't we?" she smiled at him sweetly. "your notes say you were shot by a Maw boarding party, which is obviously sad, but your wound patterns indicate a point blank shot from your own service revolver." The way he avoided her gaze, she knew she already had her answer, even if his guilt wasn't betraying him through the force, but she needed his words. "this is a neutral place of healing, we are not the Galactic Alliance, we will remove the slug from your spine whatever you say, but if you turned your gun on yourself, it will help to know that for your rehabilitation plan." tears rolled down the cheek of the currently paralysed man and he simply nodded in agreement with her statement.

 

[Ares Atrius]

D R O M U N D _ K A A S
Enforcement: AA7-100 / E10 BI§4


Praetor and Exarch of Iokath
Tag(s): Rurik Fel ​

He had a hum on his lips, an old song he likes to hear from time to time, it made him think of home and how much it was worth. He smiled slightly into his beard as he put on his gauntlets. "Home" wasn´t exactly fitting here, at least not his. It was the home of the Sith, the Dark siders who brought their greed and lust into the Galaxy multiple times, their oppression and aggression for the simple taste of power. Bantha herders. Why would you fight, backstab and plot just to get yourself higher? The fear of falling just devours you.

Ares had finished putting on his armor, the grey and gold of it was the sign of his office as Praetor, only the helmet was waiting for him, together with his shield and pike at the wall, hanging there in his bedroom. He was elected Praetor eight times before and it was the third year of his current term, but he might be the first one since a millennium who leads his people back into the fight outside of own struggles, maintaining order and enforcing justice from the shadows. This invasion was not hidden, it was not a surprise, it was a culmination of the forces of the good versus the remnants of the dark. They were no exactly secret about it. On the other hand, they are good at collecting data.

Taking the helmet in one hand and carrying the pike and shield in the other, he marches out of his bedroom, through his office and into the corridor of the ship. The two Knights of his Household standing at attention and following him with a few paces of distance while he walks towards the hangar. The ship wasn´t very big and not meant for fighting, it was capable of defending itself, but not to engage in a battle head on. It was a transport and carrier vessel, for diplomatic and business duties as well as either carrying goods or a small contingent of troops. Today it was troops. A strike team of Knights and a battalion of Skytroopers were at his disposal.

While he was walking into the room, his Knights, basically his staff, was watching some feeds of the already present forces. With curiosity they were listening to the speech. Were they expecting one from him as well? He knew all of them by name and kinda since their birth. They fought together more times than they could count, their families knew each other. There was nothing to say, it was a mutual understanding, a base of trust, comradery and communication only a sacred band could achieve.

Spoiler: Summary

- Just Intro Post
- Looking for Enemies still
Explanation of subtitle:
[A=Praetor Declaration, A7=Defensive Support/Ally clause, -100=Praetor Declaration Counter, E10=Edict Protocol Number, BI=Bellum Iustum Law,§4=the removal/defeat/annihilation of Dark side applicants]

​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Pitiable."

The hooded figure watched from a distance as a growing conflagration gradually engulfed the former capital of the once-mighty Sith Empire.

Not a conflagration of fire, but a conflagration of faith.

Where the dark once held immutable sway, the light had come to chase it out. Where once the Sith held court unchallenged in the galaxy, now the Jedi and their tenuous allies broke symbols of power and set alight literature that had guided an entire generation. Not that it was any great loss, the Dark Lords had already ensured that their legacy would live on through those that held fast to the true belief. An era of persecution would ensure that the faith would remain strong in those that kept true to it, strengthening the resolve of the faithful through the crucible of adversity.

Still, it wounded the heart to see such a vibrant center for Sith teaching be deconstructed so barbarically. It had happened before, it might even happen again, but that did little to blunt the pain that sliced through each true believer so viciously.

Turning away, the masked figure set his eyes upon a massive congregation. Thousands upon thousands, a multitude greater than the tides of Dromund Kaas' seas, were assembled in one of the great courtyards where the Dark Lords would address their subjects with mandates and decrees. Silence greeted him as he stood before the teeming masses where once the sounds of music and ritual incantations would have rung out.

"A great pity to see such heresy inflicted upon you, the faithful." The hooded man's voice carried far, the acoustics of the yard made specifically to amplify a speaker's voice from the elevated platform. Without a doubt, every being crammed into the courtyard could hear his every word without difficulty. "The Dark Side preserves the will of the strong, so long as that will remains unbroken. The jealous anathema believes that your will is broken, that you will stand meekly by as they desecrate your sanctuaries and make a mockery of your faith. But you have bid your time well, held your tongue in patience, awaiting this exact moment. The moment where you would take your vengeance upon all those that have wronged you."

An object in the shape of a large trapezoid was hovered out before the hooded man, its surface covered with an ornate maroon and gold veil. The figure removed the veil, revealing intricately carved runic symbols set into obsidian and hammered gold. Placing his hand on it, the object began to glow brightly as every rune lit up red simultaneously.

"To unleash the hatred, fear, and resentment that burns within your souls."

A bright beam of light shone out from the object, striking the first row of congregated in the chest and rapidly jumping from person to person. Within a few moments, the once quiet assembled crowd was transformed into a ravenous mob of crazed madmen, their darkest emotions and deepest insecurities amplified beyond natural limits into a murderous rage. But, through the unknown machinations of the masked man and the object, they did not turn on one another but instead surged forth into the rest of the city to spread their vengeful infection to the other citizens of Kaas City.

And to tear down those that would seek to violate their faith.

To destroy the servants of the great enemy.

Jax Thio ​

 

[Tren Chaar]

C O N T E S T E D

DROMUND KAAS
B-WING HEAVY STARFIGHTER​

---

---

Revenant Squadron Leader: CDR Tren Chaar Two: FLT Olly Piblarian Seven: FO Leon Gallo Eleven: FO Mylo Thorne Ashlan Crusade Isla Draellix-Kobitana Spoiler: Summary -Revenant arrives in-system -Revenant prepare to escort transports to the surface

“…three, two, one, revert.”

The swirling starfield of hyperspace collapsed as Revenant Squadron decanted back into realspace on the edge of the Dromund Kaas system. The promise of enemy resistance and hundreds of allies ships had necessitated the starfighters dropping out of hyperspace early and making their way to the planet under sublight engines.

It also gave them a few moments to comprehend what was unfolding in the skies above the former Sith Empire capital.

Chaar’s vidscreens chimed continually as it updated to track the new arrivals. Allied forces of the Ashlan Crusade and the Enclave were marked as friendlies, with the Brotherhood of the Maw signatures were painted as enemies. Revenant had flown against the Brotherhood long enough to know their ships by sight, and the distinctive profiles of the Ashlan and Mando ships were easy to discern. Strangely, they weren’t who he was worried about, he already knew where they all sat.

It was the other two forces that worried him. Ships flying the flag of the New Imperial Order and Eternal Empire were flagged as third parties by the B-wings targeting computer, though he doubted would not be passive participants in the battle. That Revenant had been asked to fly alongside the Imperial traitors and the Sith loyalist Empire was beyond belief. But that decision had been made well above his pay grade. Official orders were to cooperate and respect the rules of engagement.

Chaar had decided on his own orders - keep the Imperial and Empire far away from his squadron at all costs. No one would be going home in a bodybag thanks to a traitor.

“Stay with the transports,” he ordered flatly over the comlink. Getting troops on the ground to secure Dromund Kaas and knock out whatever resistance of the collapsed Sith Empire remained was their number one priority. If their allies - he used the terms loosely - were willing to sacrifice their ships and soldiers to take the world, so be it. The Alliance had shed too much blood against the Sith in a war that wasn't theirs, only to have the NIO turn their backs on them.

“And watch those lanes,” he added. The Galactic Alliance had marked out clear ingress and egress vectors for its transport to the surface. If any Imperial and Empire forces came within 100 kilometres, Chaar would light them up. High Command might trust those throne worshippers, but he didn't.

 

[The Fool]

ONCE MORE UNTO THE BREACH
MISUNDERSTOOD HERO vol. I
Issue #1 w/ Eina L'lerim-Vandiir
forunate son

---

---

​

Half a dozen dropships tore the skies of Dromund Kaas - home of the mentally depraved - and headed down towards their designated target to destroy on the ground. The Fool, formerly known as Captain Starbird, Hero of the Alliance, Paragon of Freedom, Absolutely Great Fella was spearheading this bunch of Aurodium Sword mercs compromised of good-for-fodder aliens.

From the jungles of Felucia to the barren wastelands of Ziost, the Fool had long dreamed of this moment. To plunge the dagger of liberty straight into the heart of tyranny. A noble act reserved only for those of great virtue like him. So what did Captain Starbird's heroic feat entail?

"Alright, you wrinkled ass looking alien freaks, listen up--" he addressed the squad of Weequay goons within the dropship, a smoking cigar glued to his lips, "-- we're gonn' be deploying in a hotbed of freaks, right in the heart of the beast, the breeding zone of terrorists and freedom haters..."

"... Vand-something orphanage."

"Mission's simple - torch it down. The galaxy depends on it, gentlemen." the mercenary gave the goons a mock salute as the dropships touched down.

The hatches opened up and the company of heroes emerged, storming the orphanage with flamethrowers, repeaters, rocket launchers, and every weapon capable of bearing liberty's caliber.

No orphanages, no exceptions.

 

[Vulcan Krayt]

Objective I: Find the lay of the objective
Location: Dromund Kass, Southern Pole
Equipment: Sword, M.I. Beskar'gam Mk.1 M.I. 'Sunstroke' jetpack M.I. Model 6 hybrid pistol, M.I. Model 12 shatter rifle x2, Thermal Detonators, Magnetic Detonators, Perun's Call
Tag: Mairéad Solus

Vulcan's X wing had been collecting dust lately, and R2 looked a little restless. Do Droids get restless? Vulcan didn't know but for this particular mission he decided to pilot his Starfighter for a change, so as he exited Hyperspace towards the target planet, his scanners picked up increased electrical disturbance on the planet. Thankfully he was able to put on a bandana to stop static from building up again. Last time he was shocking everyone even if he didn't touch them, which hurt quite a bit.

The Ubese was surprised he didn't stick to walls or Shai with all that static. He had thought of getting a haircut to get rid of the excessive fluff. But, never got around to it.

That was not important right now, as he carefully broke the atmosphere, Vulcan noticed that he was at the southern pole and it was snowing. R2 beeped a warning about it being cold and hazardous due to the weather. The youngster didn't seem too worried about it. He lives on Kestri and that can be even colder some days. Blizzards can keep him in his Bakery for two days if they got really bad. That and getting lost in the snow dunes, he wondered if he should wear a hat with a flag on it to make it easier to be seen?

He thought being autonomous rather than sticking close to Vod could give him experience, so when the time ever comes he would be able to go solo and fight where needed. He knew that he can fight and do so well but not as an individual. At some point, as he zipped through the atmosphere, Vulcan thought about turning back and joining up with the main Enclave forces.

But he was committed to his course of action now, and can't stop, because it would mean he can't function on his own and that was weakness, something he had thought about recently. Logically it was silly, but to him, it made perfect sense. Funny how the mind can stop and focus on something so rigidly.

R2 beeped, bringing the youngster out of his thoughts, looks like a stable area to land, after careful manoeuvring, he touched down. Putting on his helmet he opened the cockpit canopy and peeked out into the surroundings. Such a desolate place to be and the snow that was once heavy trickled down into a soft sprinkle. Well, that certainly solved the visibility issue.

 

[Mylo Thorne]

​

LOCATION: ENTERING SPACE OVER DROMUND KAAS
MISSION: PROTECT THE TRANSPORTS
CALLSIGN: REVENANT ELEVEN
EQUIPMENT: REC-AI01 A-Wing Interceptor
REVENANT SQUADRON: LEADER - Tren Chaar TWO - Olly Piblarian SEVEN - Leon Gallo
OTHER ALLIES:
Isla Draellix-Kobitana

​

Long streaks of bright white light morped into stellar pinpoints in the black void of space across his transparisteel viewport. The journey through hyperspace had been somewhat monotonous, but the boredom had been remedied by the notion that they were heading into the real battle. Back to the frontlines of the War after a brief stint on the Southern Front which he considered relaxation. But now it was time to work. The Brotherhood wasn't going to collapse on its own.

"Leader, this is Revenant Eleven, standing by." He called in, ready and raring to go.

Mylo dialed down on the throttle slightly to an easy fifty percent, easing the craft into formation with the rest of the B-Wings, A-Wings and X-Wings of the mixed "alphabet" squadron. Out of the port side of his view port, the Humbariner pilot peered out to see an innumerable amount of boxy troop transports, beginning on their approach vector, carrying a number of Alliance troops down to go and tango with Maw Berserkers on the ground.

Naturally, myth spread about the mystery surrounding the ancient Sith throneworld and while he often paid no attention, it still held a certain aura about it. An uneasy one. Many other starfighters belonging to the Imperial factions at the battle entered realspace, the Alliance didn't seem to be on exactly friendly terms with either, but cooperation and coordination worked. And they would need to it they were going to face such an enemy. He pulled up the display, a holographic blue terminal popped up showing a makeup of the battle and its combatants. The Ashlan Crusaders and Mandalorian ships tagged green and the two Imperial forces tagged as amber.

Rocky relationships didn't make for good cooperation he thought. Mylo brought the A-Wing around, banking off towards the transports. He weaved in between the mass of troop carriers and wondered how many soldiers could fit in the back of any of those craft, and if they were even remotely comfortable.

 

[Pietro Demici]

Pietro Demici: Cardinal of Ashla

Opposition: OPEN

Allies: Ingrid L'lerim , Isla Draellix-Kobitana , Rurik Fel , DECEASED Erskine Barran , Noel Strasza , Siv Dragr , The Fool

Enemies: Darth Solipsis , The Mongrel , Rowena, Darth Carnifex

Personal Loadout: lightsaber, armorweave priest's vestments

Sanctus Dominus

The smoke was beginning to rise across the skyline of Dromund Kaas as the Crusaders and their allies began their blessed work, taking care to methodically push their way through the streets of the former Sith capital. Pietro himself was overseeing the movements of the Crusade in this endeavor, pouring over holoprojections of the surrounding districts. This was a day that many had been looking forward to, the final push against what was once the Sith Imperial regime. There would be no reprieve for loyalists who had remained within the city. There would be no salvation to those that dared to fly the banners of their former imperial masters. And by the end of the day... every image, every text, every trace of the old regime would be destroyed.

Pietro's eyes fell upon the Eternal Empress as she spoke, his eyes narrowing as she asked him of the day's plans.

"The Sith loyalists are still holding out at various points throughout the city. Though we have been rooting them out, it will take time."

As he spoke, one of the chaplains of the Holy Guard approached.

"The charges are set, your imminence."

"Very well, chaplain. On your mark."

Without further reply, the chaplain turned, giving the signal to a nearby soldier. As the detonator activated, a nearby statue of a Sith lord erupted in a ball of cleansing fire, launching bits of stone outward as it came tumbling down. The cleansing of Dromund Kaas would be a major undertaking, but Pietro was more than committed to seeing it done. No stone would be left unturned, no symbol would remain. Today, the old regime would be erased from the history of the planet once and for all.

The Cardinal turned his attention back to Ingrid, pointing toward several locations on one of the holoprojections.

"The major holdouts of loyalist forces are here, here, and here. The NIO have already begun pushing on the historical district, and though I would like to commit more forces to the others, we must be thorough. I have given the order that all Sith texts be burned. Statues and monuments are to be torn down, flags will be burned, and any artifacts are to be destroyed. Any that can't be destroyed are to be taken into the care of the Holy Jury so that they may place them under lock and key."

Looking back to the Empress, his voice grew quiet.

"I pray that you have gotten any civilians out. I have given the order to let them leave, but now that the fighting has started, I can not promise the safety of anyone within those districts. Today will be a day of reckoning, and I can not guarantee that their won't be collateral damage, no matter how we try to maneuver through the chaos."

It was always a risk in war. Civilians would always be caught in the crossfire, one way or another. And if Pietro's feeling was correct, things were only going to get more complicated.

"I sense something on the horizon, Empress. The Maw will not leave us to our own devices. They will strike while their enemies are gathered, and you and I both know that they will bring nothing but utter destruction. We must do what we can to protect our own. Should the Maw show up, we will be forced to exercise more forceful measures. I hope you are prepared to do what is necessary."

One way or another, today the city would burn.

 

[Percival Io]

MUSIC​

Percival and a group of other Neutralizers had been sent to Dromund Kaas to document and seize assets left behind by the Sith Empire. By the time news reached them of the impending skirmish, it was too late to escape. They were trapped on the planet while several different factions (many of whom House Io was hostile to) vied over the former Sith Imperial capital in what promised to be a complete clusterfuck of a battle.

To reach their safehouse, they would have to cross the capital—a dangerous mission that put them at high risk of capture or attack by enemy forces. So they’d hatched a plan that involved disguising themselves as civilian workers—the type who provided an urgent and necessary service, one that would allow them a certain amount of leeway when it came to expediency.

As the skies over New Kaas filled with dozens of starships, a transport sped down the abandoned skylanes. The vehicle was white, with a stylized pizza logo and “Gramacci’s Pizza” stenciled in Basic on the sides. Inside, the Neutralizers were outfitted in the uniforms of pizza deliverymen. Percival, who wore a baseball cap embroidered with the pizzeria’s logo, was driving. The back of the speeder was crowded with pizza boxes and a considerable stockpile of weapons, armor, and other gear that they had brought with them. Probably overkill for a mere reconnaissance mission, but Percival believed you can never be too prepared.

“Hey, check it out,” one of the Neutralizers said. “Are those soldiers gathering around an orphanage?”

Percival glanced in the direction she had pointed. He could hear the others gasping and muttering amongst themselves.

“What in the hell?”

“A fucking orphanage? Really?”

“There better not be any kids left in there…”

Pressing his lips together, Percival blew air out his nose, then stopped the speeder and turned around.

“Oh shit—are we really going down there to protect the orphanage?”

“But what about the safehouse?”

“Forget the safehouse!” Percival hissed, putting his foot on the gas. “This is exactly the kind of disgusting behavior Mother would never stoop to! Targeting an orphanage full of children born in an enemy state that these Imperial cronies already defeated, yet they can’t let go of their desire for revenge—”

He went on, going into full Preacher Mode. The others didn’t need to be convinced; they were programmed to follow House Io’s ideals. But they knew it was best not to interrupt him in the middle of a fiery speech, so long as he didn’t crash the speeder.

“...and send them back to hell, where they belong!” Percival roared as he brought the pizza delivery transport to a skidding halt in front of the Vandiir Orphanage’s main building. “Who’s with me?!”

“Yeah!” one of the Neutralizers yelled. The rest were already climbing out of the car, grabbing their weapons as they met the charging dropship troops head-on, hoping to stop them dead in their tracks.

The Fool Eina L'lerim-Vandiir​