Junction The First Bastion Games - DIA/RNR/SO [ Empty hex/Iktotch/Kinyen

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

Naval>Commander>Multi-Theater Response Drill – Manage simultaneous engagements across star sectors

Location: Simulator

Representing: Sith Order


Imperius Indomitus

Aboard the simulated bridge of the Jamillia, Ashin considered the map, its choke points and unique elements, and also her various vessels' and probes' hyperdrive speeds. Most of her fleet worked at a standard one-point-oh, but the science vessel had a slower civilian drive and the big cruiser - most of her fleet's offensive firepower, frankly, an elite pocket Star Destroyer - had a blisteringly quick point-five. And the Jinn had its own unique capability with transit applications, but now wasn't quite the moment.

The starting position she chose, given the range between the Kathol Republic and Exocron, was an odd one. Flipping through files and recollecting snippets of memory, she picked Uukaablis, an unobtrusive world. Its inhabitants had a reputation for superb medical technology.

First, she forged a quick-and-dirty agreement with Uukaablis: free passage and fair terms for mooring, supplies, and urgent access to medical care. Mutual defense only within reason, but if the enemy got here, the Uukaablians' patrol ships would have little choice but to join her. A few extra corvettes that she might or might not be able to count on could only help.

She split her forces and attention thus:

Task Force Calypho, composed of the Avatar, the Shambhala, and the Jinn - the fleet's toughest offensive and defensive ships, plus the science boat and one of the H9 patrol corvettes - she sent into the depths of the Qektoth Confederation on a mission to crush it quickly and conclusively. The Qektoth were bio-cyborgs with unique weapons technology and a lot of dangerous nonsense going on, but their ships were small and primitive and relatively few. Nothing they could field had a prayer against the Avatar and the Jinn, hammer and anvil. In their wake, the science ship had a mission of analysis and assessment, while the H9 would support with INCIS probes and use its SUREC, SIARC, and EXPARC probes to get a downright excellent understanding of Qektoth space.

Task Force Vectivus, composed of the other eleven ships, set sail for the Kathol Republic at a stately Class One, which should take around fifteen 'days.' (The simulation worked at an accelerated and somewhat-flexible scale; Ashin wasn't quite sure how it worked without dragging both contestants into the same time dilation factor, but it worked and felt intuitive.)

TASK FORCE CALYPHO - CRUSHING QEKTOTH

• Avatar-class Cruiser
• Shambhala-class Science Vessel
• Jinn-class Cruiser
• H9 Patrol Corvette

TASK FORCE VECTIVUS - HEADING FOR KATHOL REPUBLIC, 15 DAYS

• Jamillia-class Cruiser (flagship)
• Spinnaker-class Light Carrier
• 6 x Handmaiden-class Escort Corvette
• 2 x H9 Patrol Corvette
• Admonition-class Transport

 

[Rocho]

BYOO: Observe and Interact
Direct tags: Dominic Praxon
Outfit
The Beast (inactive, held like a cane)
t-7-vibro-brace (left arm.)
g-11-shield-gauntlet (right arm)

Games, challenging games, he was almost upset he hadn't joined in them. But he figured most of them would no longer be a challenge. The duels though, or the starfighters maybe...no no. He'd fought plenty, it was time to use other skills. And he had a duty to do so now. The man held himself in utter patience, and readiness at all times. He wore a combination of simple armor and cloth, along with a red cape. His hand kept, inactive, and so resembling little more than a metallic cane, The Beast. He had forgone the true armor that could have helped in a real fight, and so a keen sense or eye for it would understand the metal of his outfit was for little more than aesthetics and minor aid against older weapons. Nor did he bring his grenade launcher or sniper rifle. Though a vibro-brace was on one arm, and a shield gauntlet on the other. Inobtrusive, but present. Going unarmed anywhere was a risk. Still, he was trying to seem mostly civilized.

Rocho reached out his senses, feeling those present through the force, feeling the layout, the drinks, the foods. Even the kinds of lighting used. He took it in, first only to stretch and prepare in case of threats. Then, simply as a passive attention. Now, where to go. Some were already engaged in their conversation, best let them be for now. And keep an ear open. But another had made their way instead to a viewport, not dialogue there. Yet, but they were one who was willing to speak based on what he'd seen prior.

Acceptable. Rocho made his way in that direction, taking his time getting there until he stood a few paces from him, and likewise looked out from the viewport, "Games are such an old thing. Play-fighting as hatchlings or cubs, advanced and formalized. Adapted as people became more and more advanced." He said, the tone held at least some formality in it. But it lacked the practiced poise of a full noble. It more resembled that of a mercenary or military officer. He smiled slightly, looking out at the others, and feeling the preparations. The eagerness, the danger. It was good to be challenged. "I am Centurio Rocho Krul, a Speaker for the Brotherhood in the Diarchy. I am curious what you really may think about these things? The more or less violent ones as well. They seem to exist in almost every culture but I've heard Alderaan once had a time of considerable tame-ness compared to many others. Certainly compared to many I've visited or come from."

 

[Kroeger]

RAVELIN, BASTION
THE DIARCHY OCCUPIED EMPIRE
902 ABY

D E M O N
IRON LEGION
'THOSE ONCE LOYAL'
Imperius Indomitus | Diarch Rellik

Спокойная ночь
​

It was a surreal experience, to say the least. To return to Ravelin, the once heart of a now fallen Empire. Its current state under the reign of the Diarchy was a preverted defacing of what was to say the least, though much of the city's iconic skyline, landmarks and infrastructure remained. If only with a fresh...or different, coat of paint. The Pellaeon-IV class Star Destroyer, The Long Night of Solace hung low in the planet's orbit, funneling down the Iron Legion's manpower down to the city's surface with much of its mechanized might being staged in the once Imperial Gate sectioned off in a hasty motorpool where its crews and mechanics went about the procedural preventative checks and maintainence of the vehicles. Any parts or supplies needed would be funneled up the Braxant from Entralla per the Trade Federation.

Kroeger wasn't as nearly as concerned about the pomp and circumstance of the drills and ceremony that would accompany a gaudy display of his ranks. In truth, the Iron Legion was hardly the form fit, picturesque portrait of Imperial might that past Legions might've been in the New Order. The 501st, the 173rd...a far cry to say the least. His own stormtroopers however had received a 'gift' from the Federation in the form of hundreds of Storm Pattern combat platforms to equip his men with, each suit hastily camouflaged with field grey, black and rust colored paint with fatigues of 'Sith Imperial Raindrop' camoflauge beneath to best fit the terrain of Bastion proper. They were not the smooth, argent clad stormtroopers that appeared in propaganda. Each man made his own adjustments to the armor, shirking armor plates that felt unneeded, adding kill tallies or personal markings whilst stringing webbing over their chest plates to hold a surplus of grenades, power packs, vibro knives and other warfighting materials.

They were, for all intents and purposes, late for the display with Kroeger demanding every man be accounted for and every piece of signed equipment be inventoried and functions checked. Looking bad was one thing, performing bad was a completely different beast.

The Iron Legion didn't field any true display of force on the parade grounds save for a detail to hold the colors of the 1st Armored Assault Division which were fluttering with campaign streamers hailing back to the earliest days of the Braxant Run Campaign decades ago along with the various battalions and companies beneath the command of the Iron Legion.

Kroeger...was elsewhere. Within the apartments he and his men were quartered for their time on Bastion, he'd made an ad-hoc tactical operations center within which he began to toil away, scrolling through maps, making overlays, analyzing unit compositions. Subordinate officers were quick to consolidate useful information and pass them down in print-outs to the lower leadership. Everything from enemy identification standards down to weather conditions and packing lists for the event ahead. There was no mistake to be made, whilst they appeared to be a rag tag group of what might even be considered Imperial partisans...it was far from the truth.

Kroeger had drilled them hard, nestled within the old Fort Rex on Adumar, the very grounds of which the Stormtrooper Corps of the New Order was reconstituted, he culled the weak and trimmed the fat from his motley crew of the Lost and the Damned. Criminal pasts and degenerate tendencies were sanitized in favor of rigid discipline and ruthless fanaticism. It was a strenuous process, one that if Kroeger wasn't so uncompromising on, he might've been able to field a Legion three times its size but he didn't care to cut corners. He couldn't afford to.

Save for the detail fielding the colors of units which had seen service in the New Imperial Order only to retain constitution in Kroeger's Iron Legion, his troopers were drilling and training in between rest cycles under the impression that at any moment, it was time to be at ready condition one.

Today would be pleasantries, introductory honors and all the accompanying nonsense. Kroeger had to all but be pried from the planning process, conceding the 'TOC' to his subordinate Konrad Bolter to continue in his stead as he arrived to the grounds. The sight of this place, the bastardized seat of the Empire now wooping in revelry to their new masters, uncaring of the blood and human capital spent to plant the Iron Sun over this world. Chattel, all of them.

He entered with a paltry escort at best. A pair of Death Troopers camouflaged in a similar manner as the other infantrymen standing as a silent shadow to their commander. Perhaps Indomitus was the only one among these people to see the man in the flesh. The horrid amalgam of flesh and cybernetics, all of which concealed beneath the tightly woven bandages that clung to his features, donning practical military attire even a shade more pragmatic than the dour field grey of the old Empire's uniforms. A tanker jacket over an armorweave bodyglove and 'rain drop' camoflauge fatigues. Even things such as his blaster holster, push-to-talk comms connector and wrist mounted tac pad remained fixtures of his person. Be it old habits or a readiness for what was to come. Half lidded eyes, one of a piercing cybernetic photoreceptor and the other organic lofted between those around him as he nursed a cigarette, stood in front of the standard bearers of his Legion, his other hand lazily grasped at his belt.

They wished for a show...and one they shall receive. A reminder of what was...and what may very well return. Iron eclipse.

 

[Roxsie]

Objective: BYOO. Just a social event.


Direct tags: Diarch Reign Laphisto
Possible locational tags: Persephone Dashiell Thayze Montserrat Annis Riyaré Bastien Sal-Soren
[open]
Yeah yeah yeah, congrats all you. Karking missed the memo. Could've proven something in the duels. But hey it's whatever not like it would matter anyway. The real thing is all that matters. Not this. This wouldn't really prove something.

The agitated young warrior made her way through the place anyway, the more spectatorial area. Might as well be here, the least she could do is watch the fights. That was something. Maybe learn some things. Besides, it couldn't hurt to socialize...a little? Right? Still, she'd bring her sword obviously. The simple phrik blade was something she did take some pride in. She knew how to use a lightsaber, and construct one. But she'd just never done it. It was all about skill with what you held. And to her, using something so simple yet function, and going unarmored, with the only real protection being the gold or silver breath mask, designed after the shape of a skull, seemed quite enough for her.

She'd been in these kinds of places before, back when her parents were in charge of that planet. Or even back when it was just her mother. They were so formal, that part she didn't learn so well. Her mother never really did all that, she was always so casual about everything. But it a social visit, or an assassination attempt, or explaining which organs were the best to target when your opponent possessed regenerative capabilities. Naturally that was usually the brain, but being protected behind bone, it was better to disable or force their body to overcompensate by targeting something which would in turn damage other parts of the body.

She pulled her thoughts back to the present, maybe not deal with the others right now. She wasn't relaxed enough for that yet. Instead she looked to the people that she felt needed to know her, the Diarchs. They mattered, they were important. It was from them that she could grow, whether directly or indirectly. So Roxsie made her way towards Diarch Reign and bowed, "Sorry I couldn't help represent the Diarchy as well, though I guess, since it's not supposed to be the real thing. I probably couldn't really preform at my best anyway." she did try at least a little to provide a presence of formality, at least with them.

Phrik sword
Rebreather that is styled like a golden lower skill.

 

[Lady Nightmare]

Objective: Try to avoid Father and make friends as uncle Rellik suggests
Tags: Diarch Reign Diarch Rellik Persephone Dashiell Bastien Sal-Soren Thayze Montserrat Dominic Praxon

---

The young “Heir” had been trying to make her way out more and more often. Uncle Rellik had told her she needed friends her own age.

Well friends were a little hard to come by with a family like hers. And she was no better, trained since she could walk to contend with Jedi masters and Sith Lords, she was not what one would call an “average” teenager. Between martial training with her father and sorcery with her uncle, the young woman could stand her own that was for sure.

But today? She was out of her element. She flitted through the crowd, searching for a group of people her own age. She wanted to meet people and this seemed like the best place.

She avoided her father, not because she thought he’d disapprove but because she didn’t want to be caught in his “gravity” for the time being. She wanted to be on her own for this.

As she wound through, she spotted a group that must be near her in age. As she approached she heard the final bit of conversation

Or it is the perfect time to strike, wipe out key military officials and dignitaries while the hyperlanes make it difficult to assemble a strong and quick response."

“It is quite an interesting thought, I wonder if that’s why my father and uncle agreed to this spectacle. Get all our adversaries under one roof and just boom”

there was a laugh on her lips when she said this, but she hoped it wouldn’t land awkwardly.

She was suddenly very self conscious. Not in her comfortable uniform so similar to her fathers but today in a long black dress with gold trim. Fitting for the grandeur of the games.

she realized she hadn’t introduced herself.. and Nightmare just wouldn’t do for what she assumed to be people from Naboo..

“I’m.. Mary.. it’s a pleasure to meet you all”

she said with a slight bow

 

[Lily Decoria]

Location: Bastion - Objective 1
Outfit: Jedi Attire
Equipment: Arwr Da
Tag: Jairdain

Tying her hair into a tight ponytail, Lily breathed in deeply as she thought about the participation in the games, it was meant to be a way to demonstrate the talents and strength of the Order of Shiraya and the Royal Naboo Republic. She wasn't sure that it was the smartest move since this was a tentative alliance with people not all to friendly with Jedi. So, there was some hesitation that Lily would be revealing too many tactics and her abilities for future enemies to take advantage of. But her Master, Briana Sal-Soren , mentioned that it would be a good chance to see her skills developing and how far her training has come.

A chance to push herself against people who were not fellow Jedi. That made sense and there was a chance to make new friends with people who were friendlier to the Jedi.

Lily signed up for melee duelling and the obstacle gauntlets, they were games that leaned into her talents. Into the training she had been doing for years now so it was a good opportunity for Lily to really shine. Stretching her muscles and limbs, Lily wasn't too sure on who her opponent would be yet or the skill level that she would be facing. The Padawan was close to being a Knight in rank but holding off on the promotion for now while she develops her skills and assure that her renewed sense of calm and peace was solid.

Not something that she falsely assumed to be her balance.

Letting out a slow exhale, Lily mentally prepared for the fight. Curious to see what weapons her opponent wished to use. The Echani was more than happy to go unarmed in combat or use any variety of melee weapons that her opponent set them to use. Lily had trained with most styles of melee combat. Learning what weapon her opponent selected would give some insight into her opponent as well.

 

[Dominic Praxon]

Dominic turned slightly at the approach, offering a small incline of his head to the armored figure who addressed him—not guarded, but not careless either. A measure of Nabooian courtesy, tempered by Brentaalan instinct.

“Dominic Trozky,” he offered with a reserved but genuine warmth, “of House Praxon, though the house name alone carries more water on Naboo than my full surname ever did.”

His gaze flicked briefly back to the arena below before returning to the Centurio.

“I serve as aide to Senator Calia Vonn of Enarc—officially. Unofficially, I dabble in patience and the art of saying little while meaning a great deal.”

There was the ghost of a smile there. Dry, but not unkind.

“Alderaan,” he echoed after a pause, “Yes. I’ve only ever known her in times of peace—refined, verdant, idealistic to a fault. Their duels, if they had them, are more likely to be with poetry than blades. A culture trained in grace rather than aggression.”

He exhaled softly through his nose, watching the figures moving across the sands of the arena like chess pieces given breath.

“But martial competition?” he said, voice softening slightly, “That I do understand. More than I wish, perhaps. There is something noble in the test. The structure of it. A measure that, while imperfect, has the decency to be honest. Strength can be postured. Power can be borrowed. But a trial of skill… that must be met directly. That’s what these Games offer, isn’t it? A place where even the children of warlords must earn their roar.”

His expression tightened a touch, not with discomfort, but restraint.

“Still,” he added, “I’ve never been well-suited to combat. I respect it. But I was built for another arena entirely. Mine has no cheering crowds. Just long corridors, closed doors… and the occasional misplaced truth.”

He dipped his chin slightly again in acknowledgment.

“But I’m grateful for the conversation, Centurio Krul. We need more voices at windows and fewer shouting at podiums.”

Rocho Annis Riyaré @OPEN​

 

[Bastien Sal-Soren]

“A good vintage and a credible assassination threat—Bastion really is full-bodied this season.”

The comment slipped out with the ease of dry wine over the tongue, and Bastien smiled faintly over the rim of his glass. But inwardly, the direction of the conversation left him... alert. It wasn't that he feared violence—he'd grown up under its long shadow—but there were certain things you didn't say too loudly in rooms filled with hidden knives and hereditary trauma.

He let the thought pass with a breath, not enough to change the mood, just enough to hopefully ease it.

“Though I imagine even the most ambitious plotters would hesitate—what with how dreadfully tedious the paperwork must be when one bombs a diplomatic forum.” A small sip. “No one wants to be the cause of an intergalactic filing error.”

His attention drifted briefly to Thayze with the ghost of a nod—recognizing him but giving nothing away. The other youth was sharp, clearly raised in the same ecosystem of highborn networking and veiled ambition. Bastien could smell that scent from a thousand paces.

Then, focus turned to the new arrival.

A dark-haired girl in a gown of black and gold—elegant, yes, but there was something in the way she held herself. Like she was used to armor instead of silk. Her voice was warm, even playful, but Bastien marked the shadow behind her eyes instantly. She did not belong to the soft edges of noble society—not entirely. She was being polite. Which meant she could be dangerous.

And that made her interesting.

He stepped forward, smoothly, gracefully.

“Mary,” he echoed with a slight bow, “The pleasure, I assure you, is ours.”

Rather than simply nod or incline his head, he offered a precise half-bow—measured, elegant, just deep enough to suggest she was worth noticing. The kind of gesture that could be courtly respect… or calculated curiosity, depending on who was watching.

“You wear your name well. Though I confess, you don’t quite seem the Mary sort. Surely, too plain for one such as yourself.”

He said it gently—light as a breeze. Not an accusation. Not even a suspicion. Just a carefully crafted comment meant to acknowledge the performance without tearing down the curtain.

He turned slightly, allowing the circle to breathe again.

“Now that we’re all assembled, I suppose we ought to enjoy the show before someone actually does bring the roof down.”

Persephone Dashiell Thayze Montserrat Lady Nightmare Roxsie​

 

[Cerys Dyn]

Cerys didn’t flinch. She didn’t blink.

Kivah pressed in like a landslide—weight, power, unrelenting. But Cerys didn’t meet force with force. That wasn’t her style.

She sidestepped inside the arc of a low slash, blade turning in a tight vertical parry. Her offhand saber caught a downward strike and wheeled it wide. A fist came for her midsection—she let it glance off her forearm, pivoting with the blow instead of bracing against it. Every step was minimal. Every motion efficient.

Control the line. Control the pace.

Her heels skirted the sand, angling just enough to keep distance open—not running, not fleeing. Managing.

She felt the rhythm of Kivah’s assault like a drumbeat thudding closer. So she broke the tempo.

Cerys dipped low under a horizontal cut—then snapped her free hand forward, palm out. The Force burst from her like a pressure wave, tightly directed, precise. No theatrics. Just clean kinetic intent. Not to injure. Just to move—to give her a breath. To reset the range.

She rose with the motion, sabers crossing at her sides, breathing calm and slow as the sand settled again.

| TAG: Kivah |
​

 

[Merion Oreno]

Naval>Individual>Zero-G Repair Run – Emergency damage control in a decompression sim
Team Diarchy

The point of competing wasn't just to win, it was to train himself past the worst experience of his life. He'd been trapped in a zero-gravity vault for a hundred thousand iterations of a one-minute time loop, a hundred thousand deaths, mostly from starweirds. Claustrophobia was the least of his problems, but it was a problem he could tackle. He'd trained for this event for months, worked his way past panic, found his balance as well as anyone could who'd been through something like that.

The event timer buzzed, the airlock opened, and Merion drifted into the event site: an actual space station, a small one over Bastion. He didn't know the layout in advance, or where the hissing atmospheric breaches were, but the repair equipment sites were clearly marked with standard iconography. He could see one already.

He gripped a traction bar and kicked off from the airlock for that repair kit's hatch. As he floated he listened for the nearest breach, felt how the sound and breeze shifted as he passed apertures, and by the time he unlatched the hatch for the kit he had a heading.

 

[Caelus Vire // NIHIL]

Objective BYOO - Socializing - analyzing
Outfit: Fitted black suit with a golden trim on the barchetta pocket, black turtle neck
Tags: OPEN

---

Despite being out before in Ravelin, this was certainly the most noise Caelus had ever had to process. It leaving a lasting dazing effect as he came to terms with so much sensation. He had stayed out of the view of others until he could re-compose himself and integrate seamlessly back into high society.

Diarch Rellik had trusted him aboard the main barge - discussing with senators and royals. With proper training and on behalf of The Chancellery of Administration, it was a tasked deemed appropriate for the evening. Caelus for all intents and purposes was to be seen as a orator of Diarchy law and customs. Under his public persona he was to be a fit but not trained man. Handsome but not dangerous. A good boy who worked in tandem with the Diarchy armed forces to ensure peace and law was being upkept at all times. - His programming giving way to do so by any means required.

[Classified] - Under direct orders from the High Adjudicator Darius Vex and Diarch Rellik - The Silentiarii - was here to stalk, analyze, and diagnose threat or prey. Thee mission for the evening was a test. A first official outing where both sides of the enhanced clone would be put under pressure. Un-seen to the eyes or ears of the people around him, the High Adjudicator and Rellik were tapped into everything he heard and said. Silently watching.

---

Confident in his sensory reception and duty - Caelus did his first round of the night following behind known Diarchy members. Seeing where they shifted and fit in. As he grabbed a drink and mingled at the bar with other wealthy members of the Braxant Run - he watched silently through his periphery as Rocho introduced himself and had what seemed to be a pleasant if not some what mischievously obscure conversation with a man named Dominic Praxon . No matter how hard Caelus tried, the words from Dominic seemed to be so mixed with subtle and smooth conjecture he could not decipher exactly what he did for work. Soon enough though, the information received from his eyes would relay back to the Network, than back to him.

 

[Imperius Indomitus]

W A R M A S T E R
LORD INDOMITUS
Through war, we bring order.
Through strength, we bring unity.

The Iron March
Order. Strength. Discipline.

Ashin Cardé Varanin

​

NAVAL COMBAT - MULTI THEATER RESPONSE DRILL
Ashin Cardé Varanin

Strike Force Aurelian

Ship Class​	Name​	Status​	Orders, Location​
Harrower-class Dreadnought (820m)	Valor [Flagship]​	[ 100 / 100 / 100 ]​	Moving to Charis. s
Harrower-class Dreadnought (820m)	Retribution​	[ 100 / 100 / 100 ]​	Moving to Charis.
Terminus-class Destroyer (520m)	Ascendant Spear​	[ 100 / 100 / 100 ]​	Moving to Charis.
Terminus-class Destroyer (520m)	Sword of Bastion​	[ 100 / 100 / 100 ]​	Moving to Charis.
Terminus-class Destroyer (520m)	Rurik's Shield​	[ 100 / 100 / 100 ]​	Moving to Charis.
Terminus-class Destroyer (520m)	Indomitable​	[ 100 / 100 / 100 ]​	Moving to Charis.
Virilus-class Heavy Frigate (500m)	Iron Baron​	[ 100 / 100 / 100 ]​	Moving to Gandle Ott. Secure Supplies.
Xesh-class Fleet Tender, Elex (350m)	X-0613​	[ 100 / 100 / 100 ]​	Moving to Charis.
Rapax-class Corvette (200m)	Centurion​	[ 100 / 100 / 100 ]​	Moving to Charis.
Rapax-class Corvette (200m)	Pride of Orpheus​	[ 100 / 100 / 100 ]​	Moving to Charis.
Speculatores Recon Drones		[ 100 / 100 / 100 ]​	1x moving along Oon Tiem, 1x along Brolsam. Rest moves on to Gandle Ott, Shintel and Pembric, leaving a drone in each. for surveillance.

​

The path forward was quite clear and he chose it with little hesitation.

The bulk of his forces moved towards Charis, all ships excluding the Iron Baron and the Speculatories Drones. The latter were split up with one each taking the routes across Brolsam and Oon Tiem towards Charis, scouting and reviewing the flanks, the eyes and ears of the fleet. The remainder of the drones moved ahead, not in bulk, but as individual scouts. Towards Gandle Ott, Shintel and Pembric II respectively, utilising their high speed to race ahead of the force. Eventually they would go further.

The Iron Baron itself moved ahead towards the furthest point South as well, with strict instruction to give neither battle but also to not ignore enemy forces. It was designed for hit and run as well as commerce raiding and would engage if beneficial. It was to stop at Gandle Ott and secure supplies, leaving a token unit of troops to oversee their readying.

The main fleet moved at the pace of its slowest ship to Charis. It would impose martial law and reinforce any Imperial garrison or remnant that might be left while taking on supplies and refueling, preparing to move ahead.

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

Naval>Commander>Multi-Theater Response Drill – Manage simultaneous engagements across star sectors

Location: Simulator

Representing: Sith Order

Imperius Indomitus

The first hint of trouble came more rapidly and aggressively than Ashin had anticipated. The patrol corvette she'd sent with Task Force Calypho was destroyed by Qektoth exotic weapons while disseminating probes. The Avatar looped back quickly with its fast hyperdrive and mopped up the perpetrator, but that meant a delay on the Qektoth front. The science vessel and the scanning probes began their work of analyzing captured ships, debris, stations, and emplacements. Survivors were sent to the Uukaablians for treatment, which would tell her more about the effectiveness and willingness of their support.

Her primary force, Vectivus, reached the Kathol Republic, one of the area's great powers. She made agreement with them by fait accompli, a unilateral non-aggression pact. At Dayark, a choke point, she began to fan out the task force. Flights of scout fighters took their probes down toward Binaros, Timbra Ott, the Pimbrellan League, and similarly distant places. The H9 corvettes did the same, one off to the League and one to Timbra Ott. The Jamillia deployed its towed sensor array and took up a position with the Spinnaker, the Handmaidens, and the little Admonition.

Her intent was that, when anything arrived at Dayark, she would see it coming days or weeks in advance, might even be able to slow it with interdiction probes. The Kathol Republic was where she planned to make her first stand, all else being equal.

TASK FORCE CALYPHO - CRUSHING QEKTOTH

• Avatar-class Cruiser
• Shambhala-class Science Vessel
• Jinn-class Cruiser
• H9 Patrol Corvette

TASK FORCE VECTIVUS - KATHOL REPUBLIC

• Jamillia-class Cruiser (flagship)
• Spinnaker-class Light Carrier
• 6 x Handmaiden-class Escort Corvette
• 2 x H9 Patrol Corvette (bound for Timbra Ott and Pimbrellan League with scout fighters, 20-30 days)
• Admonition-class Transport

 

[Kivah]

Objective 1: Duel
Tags: Cerys Dyn
Equipment: Udyr Biosuit, Sabers.

She let it happen, bracing and riding out the push on the balls of her feet as her tail twitched to manage her balance as the younger woman pushed her back with the Force. That had been next in her own plan! Kivah laughed mirthfully and sprang forward again, this time using the Force to turn it into a twenty-foot leap that had her arcing over Cerys' head. Flipping through the air, legs scissoring, she swiped her blades towards the togrutan's montrals before turning her soft landing into a deep crouching spin that brought both of her red blades around.

One of her blades followed through, while the trailing slashed up as it came into line, leaving blurred after-images of Kivah's eerily silent lightsabers trailing behind. This Jedi wasn't the first to think of using flowing movements, redirection, or even to roll with the blows. 'Becoming water' to absorb or nullify her 'furious power.' People looked at her and saw a big amazonian muscle lady, or a brute. Many thought that was all she was, and most of those people never learned how wrong they were.

Rising up into a low ready stance, Kivah switched up her style. She still kept up the relentless attacks, but now a thrust might suddenly dip under a parry in a disengage to continue inside Cerys' guard, or a cut that met a block would twist around the offending lightsaber to stab at the smaller woman. While her earlier attacks had been fast and brutal, these new ones almost seemed to toy, matching Kivah's smile as they almost seemed to turn her opponent's own defenses against her. Cerys may have wanted to control the pace, turn the tempo to her own tune, but Kivah attacked and parried into ripostes or dodged at her own whims. As Cerys had used the moment of calm after her Force push to center herself, Kivah was centered and having the time of her life in this helter-skelter melee.

 

[Rocho]

BYOO: Observe and Interact
Direct tags: Dominic Praxon (maybe Annis Riyaré ?)
Outfit
The Beast (inactive, held like a cane)
t-7-vibro-brace (left arm.)
g-11-shield-gauntlet (right arm)

Rocho nodded his head in response to the name and title, or title of sorts at least. He chuckled at the 'art' he spoke of. "I'm not too good at that, so good work for those who are."

He shrugged again at the talk of alderaan and it's peace, and methods of peace, "Peace is certainly not my way. But it's not the nature of my people, human--" he paused and let out a chuckle, "Nevermind, Alderaanians seem to have a much greater grasp of peace than most. Commendable skill in it, given the way the rest of the galaxy preforms. Chiss I think harbor a rather intriguing concept of it in comparison, where they are constantly prepared for way, but still actively seek to avoid ever being the first to start it."

He followed, looking down at the fight, feeling it in the force. Sensing, watching, trying to predict each next move while also trying to feel it in the force. This was good. They were training as they should. They were challenging each other. Despite the peace background, Dominic was apparently rather positive about it. Rocho smiled nodding as he listened, "I like that perspective. It's in part why, for all the gear I have, I always prefer to fight more comparable to my opponent. Of course, there's limits to that. One person can come in with the same skill as another, yet the physical differences are too great to overcome. Afterall a rancor could beat most any non-enhanced martial artist."

The man tapped his fingers along the head of the 'cane' in his hands nodding, but raising a brow, "I've dealt in those last three things plenty but likely for very different reasons."

"I agree with that Dominic Trozky, plenty of shouting going on as it is. It is good for battles though." Another amused chuckle, "At least if you do it right. Also you don't actually need to use the title, but I'll accommodate if you want me to do the same. I've gone too long just being Rocho Krul that having a title again that it's mostly just a function of the job."

He looked down at the two fighting, "I'd probably have been down there 30 or so years ago myself if I was working with the Diarchy then. Maybe only ten. Hard to say for sure when things shifted up."

 

[Merion Oreno]

Naval>Individual>Zero-G Repair Run – Emergency damage control in a decompression sim
Team Diarchy

Despite the time constraints and the necessity of a state of flow, Merion took a breath to check in with himself about anxiety and claustrophobia and memory. In moments on drift, when he'd kicked off from one wall to another, he had room to take stock. He was fine. Better than fine. Months of training and acclimatization and self-dialogue had paid off. This environment and its stress felt familiar without being crushing.

The air was getting thin, though. He struggled to keep up. He could only apply patch kits so quickly and find breaches so easily. New breaches appeared at an accelerated pace. He faced an ongoing choice between sacrificing more time to his oxygen supply and hurrying on to the next hissing aperture. He took a balanced approach, breathing from the tank while on the float and before every other patch, that kept him lucid while the air pressure fell a bit faster than it needed to.

 

[Jairdain]

Objective: 1

When Ra'a'mah first suggested to the Hand that they sign up to compete in these Games, Jairdain felt the call to do exactly that. Suddenly, she almost regretted her choice. They would be taking place on Bastion, and what felt like several lifetimes ago, she had been held on this world.

This is where the Sith had taken her after capturing her. Here she had been broken and rebuilt by them. Wearing a mask to cover her feelings and emotions at being here once again, she walked the avenue and lined up with the other contestants. Keeping her eyes ahead, she felt confident she had made the right choice.

As their respective names were called, she learned she would be against Lily Decoria, a Jedi of another government, and she accepted this. She had the hope that she was up to the challenge in front of her.

Over the years of her life, Jairdain had picked up on a couple of different fighting methods. She had also kept these mostly secret and hidden. A lightsaber was probably her weakest, so she wouldn't choose that. Hand to hand? She was generally pretty strong with that. With her claws and fast reflexes, that would be the best.

Taking off her robe, she wore form-fitting clothes underneath. They were not revealing, just simple and easy to move in. Looking at her opponent through the Force, she nodded. Her gaze was unfocused, but all her attention was on Lily.

Lily Decoria Jax Thio

 

[Lily Decoria]

Location: Bastion - Objective 1
Outfit: Jedi Attire
Equipment: Arwr Da
Tag: Jairdain

Seeing that her opponent was choosing hand to hand combat, Lily was curious since it was an area of fighting that Lily excelled at and most would assume that the Echani would be superior in since it was something that was a core language for her. However, as she assessed the older woman, Lily could see something in the eyes, something that signified a disconnect. She was blind, which made it more curious as to why someone blind would take part in a melee combat. Though she supposed the Force could be a great equaliser in that regard.

Placing her Lightsaber aside, if this was going to be hand to hand combat, she had no need nor any desire to keep her Lightsaber on person. Breathing in deeply, Lily entered an Echani combat stance as she took in her opponent closer. There were sharp claws, clearly not a human and definitely dangerous. So something to be avoided. With the Force being available as well, this was going to be an interesting fight since Lily normally insisted on hand to hand combat be done in traditional Echani style. However, that was her preference and this was not a setting to enforce that.

It was also something that hindered her opponent too greatly to be considered a fair demand in Lily's mind.

However, that didn't mean that Lily was going to be jumping into combat using the Force right off the bat. Instead, she kept that as a reserve for later. For now, Lily was going to focus on her cultural fighting skills to highlight the high standard of fighting capabilities that came from Echani. Launching a hard and fast front kick, Lily determined it would be best if she struck first and led the fight. Hoping that would impress the judges and garner her some more points.

It would also provide some insight in the abilities of her opponent's defensive capabilities and where the preferences laid.

 

[Annis Riyaré]

Annis Riyaré, Countess of Lopenthé, Senator of Naboo

Location: VIP Spectator Barge
Gear: Voidstone bracelet
Tag: Bastien Sal-Soren . Persephone Dashiell Dominic Praxon . Thayze Montserrat Diarch Reign

Spoiler: wearing

Thayze Montserrat was correct in his assessment of the fine wine, and his little comment about the possibilities of playing nice or choosing to strike gave her a little chuckle, his theory was quickly retorted by Bastien Sal-Soren it would be a brave person to try anything with security in place and the capable warriors quite literally a stone's throw away.

"My lady… I would think you wiser than to make verbal our fears while standing amid those who would, should your words take shape, become our enemies. Caution, when spoken, too often forgets its purpose."

She heard a welcome voice passing comment on her words, they were not genuine fears, more polite chat amongst dignitaries, of the invited parties the Nabooians were absolutely the most faithful to their expectations. He was teasing her? She's turned to scowl at him to reciprocate but he was gone. A breath on the wind reminded her of the man who was just out of her grasp right now. She pulled out a small device and typed a short missive.

A ping would go on his comm

--You have received a diplomatic message from the office of the Senator of Naboo.--

Manners dictated that he wouldn't sit reading messages whilst sharing his heirs and graces so she would forget she even sent it until he replied at a more convenient time. But the content was simple, professional, nothing that might class as misuse of official channels.

--Junior advisor Praxton, I am informed that you have theories on political discourse. Colour me intrigued, we shall arrange a meeting.

Sincerely,
Senator Riyaré--

Oh how she wished she could say more, and oh how she wished she could take the image of him sliding behind her, placing his arms across her white silken dress, encapsulating her slim waist in his arms and whispering further political teasing in her ear. She found herself subconsciously fanning herself, he had long left so the others would not make the connection. It was hot in here, but she was hotter. Damn him.

"Anyway," she returned to the room "I assume you have all placed little wagers on the contestants. Anyone care to share?" she laughed and raised her glass in a friendly manner and looked over as Diarch Reign made a little introduction to the room.

 

[Rojuhr Pouihl]

​

Mission Entry:
.
Battlegroup for basis of the games:
Celestial City Supercarrier

• System AI - S.E.R.A.P.H.I.M. (Celestial City only)
• U.C.A.S. AI - A.R.C.A.N.E. (Celestial City Only)
• U.C.A.S. TENDER - A.E.R.I.S. (Docked in Ventral port of Celestial City)
• U.C.A.S. HEAVY PATROL - A.R.E.S. (3 Squadron)
• U.C.A.S. GUNSHIP - O.R.C.A. (2 Squadrons)
• U.C.A.S. RECONAISSANCE/STRIKE - A.R.T.I.M.U.S. (3 Squadrons)
• U.C.A.S. STARFIGHTER - A.D.A.M.A.N.T. (3 Squadrons)
• "Capital" A-wing (10 Squadrons)
• "AMF" Class Y-Wing Bomber Mk II (8 Squadrons)
• 103rd Tactical Fighter Wing
• "Archangel" Long Range Interceptor (3 Squadrons)
• Elysian Stealth Strike Fighter.(3 Squadrons)
• NC-1000 X-wing (10 squadrons)

2x DP2000 Torpedo Frigate
Loki Class Escort Cruiser

Competing in:

• COMMANDER EVENTS

For leaders who shape victory through strategy and command

• Live Tactical Wargames – Strategic command in adaptive battlefield simulations

NAVAL OPERATIONS DIVISION

• SQUAD EVENTS

For starfighter squadrons, escort wings, and multi-role space teams

• Asset Defense Operation – Protect a vulnerable transport or station from simulated enemy assault; scored on survival and damage mitigation
• Escort Breakout Drill – Defend allied craft through contested space while under timed pursuit
• Formation Combat Trial – Coordinate strikes and evasive maneuvers across squad formations during wave-based attack drills
• Target Suppression Run – Perform precision strikes on surface or spaceborne objectives under escort or flak fire.

---

• COMMANDER EVENTS

For those who command the stars from the bridge

• Fleet Command Simulation – Capital ship coordination across a dynamic battlefield
• Multi-Theater Response Drill – Manage simultaneous engagements across star sectors

---

When we dropped out of hyperspace, I immediately ordered the red alert and the bridges to be locked down. This may be a drill, this may be games, but they are combat games. This was the chance to show that some of the ships of my heyday are still strong and capable.I wanted to prove that my crew and I could still hold our own in the heat of battle. The stakes felt real, even if it was just a simulation. Every decision, every maneuver, would reflect on our readiness and determination to succeed.The crew's focus was unwavering as we navigated through each scenario, proving our mettle. The simulations pushed us to our limits, but we rose to the challenge, demonstrating that experience and teamwork could overcome even the most demanding trials.The simulations were no doubt meant to test not only our technical skills but also our ability to adapt under pressure. Each success reinforced our confidence, while every setback taught us valuable lessons.

When we finally received our “orders”, the battle simulation, it was simple. This was a simulation of “evac and exfil”. We were to respond to a space station sending out a distress call, the distress call was centered around a political delegate that was a threat to the attacking force. A force made up of an Imperial Remnant force. Several Star Destroyers and Attack Cruisers. There is also a “possibility” of not one, but two Interdictors in the area.

Our orders are simple enough:

1. Defend and evacuate the station
2. Exfil the Political delegate
3. Search and Destroy the potential Interdictors in the area.
4. Engage Starfighters and Star Destroyers

“Celestial City” must survive
Station must survive
Delegate must survive
Can lose no more than two civilian transports

(lost my original post completely, this is off the top of my head, sorry)