Annihilation The Imperial March

[Dark Forces]

NPC Opposition
​

Spoiler: tl;dr Action Summary

• The troopers in the garden are forced out of the water by the... mermaids?
• They drop toxin grenades into the water to poison their attackers.
• They withdraw among the burning hedgerows, attacking from ambush with knives and batons.

• At the theater, without sniper cover, the stormtroopers are forced to retreat inside the building.
• Their sealed armor protects them from the nerve gas killing the civilians.
• Captain Ancif does not have sealed armor, and cannot follow them.
• He kills himself with a grenade, covering the retreat with a plume of gas.

--------------------------

LOCATION: City Gardens
Lorn Reingard | Bastila Sal-Soren | Laphisto
Junko Ike | Ko Vuto
​

Initially, the waterways in the gardens seemed like the perfect haven for KY-963 and his troops. Each trench of waist-deep water provided a crouching man near-total concealment, and the smoke did the rest. Anyone without a full face helmet would be left coughing and spluttering, their eyes watering, their skin stinging with heat... but the stormtroopers, both armored and partially submerged, weathered the flames and only benefitted from the concealment. Short of an actual fortification, it was the best covered position they could get...

... and it allowed them to make surprise attacks on any troops trying to get past them.

It wasn't ultimately a sustainable position. In the end, the fires would burn out, and the white-armored troopers would be easily spotted amidst the ash. But for the moment it was their only defense against air support and being surrounded... until they found that they weren't alone in the water. Suddenly, strange blue-green hands scrabbled at the troopers' white armor, trying to drag them down. Apparently the irrigation trenches weren't waist deep the whole way. They connected to deeper tunnels... tunnels in which living, sentient creatures dwelled!

KY-963 had many questions. Why did the Atrisians allow (or force?) people to live in their irrigation channels? That seemed cruel for creatures accustomed to the open ocean. How did they survive all the pumps and such that must move the water around? Or all the fertilizer that was pumped into it? That seemed like it would be bad for the gills. But questions were irrelevant - survival was what mattered. "Out of the water!" the NCO barked, suppressing his fear beneath drilling and duty. "And drop in your dioxis grenades on the way!"

Lorn Reingard had wanted to find a way to flush the troopers out. As it turned out, that was already happening...

... but at a terrible cost to the Atrisian Hangyo-Jin, as lethal toxins swirled into their gills.

Through the darkness and smoke, 963 could see flashes of an unmistakable kind of glow - lightsabers. There were Jedi here, too. "Sell your lives dearly," he told his men, having no illusions that he could defeat all these foes at once. "Guard the gazebo. Make them watch their allies burn alive before you die. We'll spit in their faces and break their wills. FOR THE EMPEROR!" His men echoed his cry, producing their close-combat weapons; what good were blasters against Jedi? They had their knives, and they had their heavy riot batons.

Through the smoke they struck, hiding behind hedgerows, fighting for every meter.

All the while, the frantic screams of the militia trapped in the gazebo began to steadily weaken...

--------------------------

LOCATION: Theater House
Aiden Porte | Laphisto
Aknoby
​

Captain Ancif allowed himself a tight smile as the snipers did their work, forcing the troops that had ambushed his men back into cover. They'd taken losses, certainly, but his overwatch teams had kept the situation from becoming an unrecoverable slaughter. With a bit of finesse and a bit of luck, they'd be able to coordinate and punch a way back through the enemy's lines... leaving behind only death. For that had been the Emperor's command: to punish these people, to make them bleed for sheltering the Lightsworn terrorists from Imperial justice.

But then fate decided to spit in his breakfast cereal, and sent him a Jedi.

"Shoot him, damn you!" Ancif bellowed, pointing at the man standing out in the open. He didn't know exactly what the saber-jockey was going to do, but he knew that it would defy all logical explanation and thoroughly feth up his day. But before Ancif's troopers could fry the Jedi, a strange, shimmering barrier appeared, deflecting every incoming bolt like some kind of energy shield. And that was only the start of the bad news. The sudden grunts and flatlines of the snipers told him that some other agent, probably also a Force-wielder, was going to work on them.

His cover was about to evaporate, along with his chance to break out of this encirclement.

"Fall back into the theater," Ancif barked. It was a desperate gamble, but not a totally foolhardy one. His troopers wore full-body, vacuum-sealed armor with internal air reserves; the nerve gas wouldn't be able to do anything to them through lungs or skin. It was the only place they could go, surrounded as they were; they would have to crouch among the trapped and gassed civilians. On the upside, that would certainly make their attackers reluctant to fire carelessly at them. Any stray blaster bolt might hit one of the people they were trying to save.

Of course, Ancif himself wore an officer's gray fatigues, not a stormtrooper's carapace.

He couldn't retreat into the theater. Only his troopers could do so and survive.

"Emperor, witness me," the captain murmured, rising with his sidearm in hand. He stepped over to the pile of gas munitions they still had left, priming the high explosive grenade at his belt. Behind him, his troopers scrambled for the theater entrance, blasting down the last of the Atrisian guards and pushing aside the choking civilians who attempted to stagger out. "Witness my cruelty unto your foes. Those who defy you, I defy in turn, unto death." He primed the grenade, closed his eyes, and let it drop. A moment later, the fear and hate were gone.

A mushroom cloud of nerve gas erupted from the former Imperial line, covering their retreat inside.

Troopers took up positions at the theater's broken windows, preparing for a siege.

 

[Lossa Aureus]

Attire | Skinsuit | Poncho
Echo Stone
Lightsaber | Turmoil | Concealed Blaster | Dual Broken Core Daggers​

Fighting was an inevitable thing within the galaxy.

Someone somewhere wanted something. Had the means by which to attempt to take it. Extending their hand toward some goal that seemed almost too lofty when viewed head on. Less daunting from either side. Less daunting though was merely a manner of speaking when you were staring down the oncoming storm.

A myriad of different events striking with a coordination that made her stomach try to pull flips only to tangle itself with her lungs.

Her breath caught as she watched the sky. Her eyes sliding down to see the ground begin to swarm with troopers. Everything seemed to gather and swell into an insurmountable wall of potential problems too fast. Too much.

Others were already organizing. Dividing and conquering as Lossa simply stared at the incoming forces that would mar the surface in their own way. Leaving behind signs of their arrival and intent by whatever means they could. To etch their voice into a shapeless echo that would shape things to come no matter how hard any being might struggle to push it aside. There would be no returning to the peace that had existed before their arrival.

But the past held nothing.

Any could return to the past.

But they would find nothing waiting for them there.

The future trudged forward. Unending in its march. Willing or not, all were made to move in lockstep to its rhythm. And those that refused this found themselves relegated to the annals of history. A cautionary tale, or a wistful legend given enough time. And that wonder of where they would fall bound her to her spot beside the defenders. Struck dumb with the sheer scale of it all. The sounds all around them a distant echo in her ears. The Force moved in erratic dips and twists as everything swelled, broke, reformed, danced, tumbled, and moved with no certainty or real reason.

She could have stayed rooted in place for the entirety of the event. Watching in stunned silence as it all moved around her. Through her.

Briana’s voice cut through it all. Cut the train of thought behind the feelings that tore at her attention. Called her back from simply watching their surroundings.

Her slow turn toward her cousin was still heavy with a sense of awe as she stared blankly while her brain processed the words. Shaken free finally by a few rapid blinks that brought her back to the reality of the moment. The echoing cries through the Force numbing her senses as she nodded. Feeling overwhelmed by it all as their objective was made clear.

Her hands held out briefly as lightsabers flicked from their clips and into her hands. "I am beside you." White and lilac blades igniting as she moved beside them to try and stem the tide.

Kylass Starhaven | Darth Bellum | Briana Sal-Soren | Lorn Reingard | Kyric | Zark San Tekka
Bastila Sal-Soren | Ko Vuto | Jand Talo | Vizion Trozky | Aiden Porte | Dark Forces​

 

[Bastila Sal-Soren]

s

The purple glow of Bastila’s blade held steady, a beacon of light in the smoke. Her breath caught when Lorn spoke her name before the newly arrived strangers, his voice carrying a gravity she couldn’t ignore. I have full faith in you. The words rooted themselves deep in her chest, anchoring her as the haze closed in.
Bastila forced her gaze forward, but her peripheral vision betrayed her; smoke curled against the sky and sat like mist to the edges of the battle station’s outline. It’s very presence turned the Gardens into a place not only of fire and blood but of omen. The Force rippled uneasily here, dread woven into its current, whispering that the battle was already lost, the foul stain of the Dark side creeping it’s way out from the station like they were trying to find them, to corrupt them or kill them trying. She clenched her jaw until her teeth hurt, refusing to bow to it.

At Lorn’s side, she moved closer, matching his stance. He carried himself like a bastion even while he appeared weary, but unyielding. In the firelight, his golden blade carved lines of defiance through the smoke. She drew strength from it, letting her fear settle into something colder, sharper. Purpose.

Bastila also carved through what she could find, what came out of the mists at her. Her training while minimal within the Order as a whole was centred purely on her time at Jakku. Where she was broken down, where she was made to be a weapon the Jedi would need. She rarely spoke about Jakku. She didn’t like to.

She only stopped when the Lilaste Order’s silhouettes resolved through the smoke, their armour streaked with soot and their weapons held with a discipline that almost mirrored that of the stormtroopers. Their corporal’s words reached her, but she didn’t hear it, the suffocating dark thrum from above, a silent pulse of the Death Star twisted around her thoughts blocking everything else. Even if they managed to secure victory here on the planet, that shadow promised ruin.

Still, she bowed her head slightly when Lorn presented her, saber held close. “We’ll see them safe,” she managed, her voice quiet but certain.

She turned toward the pavilion where flames writhed, shadows moving like wraiths behind the fire. The dread in her bones clawed for dominance, whispering that no light could pierce such a shadow. Her chest tightened at his words Now, Bastila. With me. Not a command, but a trust passed from soldier to comrade. She didn’t hesitate. Her boots struck scorched gravel as she surged forward at his side, the violet blaze of her saber rising in answer to his gold.

As Bastila and Lorn made a path toward the pavilion, a sudden wave of sensation struck her through the Force. It stole her breath and made her stumble for half a step. Not human screams this time, but something older, stranger, more haunting. A dozen small lights winked out in the depths beyond the Gardens, each one a note in a song she hadn’t realized was being sung until it ended.

The Hangyo-Jin, those creatures who had swum in its waterways for generations, their presence soft and gentle in the Force were dying. Burnt alive by chemicals or trapped in boiling waters as the Imperials turned the gardens into fire-pits. She felt the echo of their deaths like fragile glass shattering in her chest. For a moment, she faltered, the violet blade lowering as grief and dread tried to root her feet in place and above them Death Star loomed in silence. Its shadow pressed heavier now, as though the station itself fed on the dying, on the unravelling of beauty and wonder. Bastila’s breath shuddered. She thought of the waterways as they had been; clear, alive, echoing with song. Now all was ash, silence, and shadow.

The bushes and hedges erupted as stormtroopers surged out in ambush, white armour blackened with soot. Tight ranks to hold the civilians trapped inside. Their leader, a lieutenant with a black-marked pauldron, barked an order. Red bolts cut through the haze in a blistering volley.

Bastila moved without thinking. Her saber rose in a sharp arc, catching the first barrage and splitting it into showers of sparks. Her feet found their rhythm, each pivot carrying her deeper into the storm of fire. The clash was deafening, bolts ricocheting, sabers shrieking as they met the vibroblades of troopers who rushed to close the distance.

One came at her fast, blade low. Bastila parried, the vibration of metal against plasma rattling her arms, then twisted her hilt and let the Force guide her momentum. Her violet blade slipped under the trooper’s guard, a burst of light sending him sprawling. Another tried to flank her, but she spun, the glow of her saber a blur as it knocked his rifle away before she drove her shoulder into his chestplate.

At her side, she could feel Lorn, each swing of his golden blade cleaving through troopers with the surety of a man who had seen this dance a hundred times before. Where his movements broke the line, Bastila filled the gaps, weaving fast and sharp, her youth lending her a speed that matched his force.

For a moment, amidst the fire and death, she felt it: the Force flowing through her not as weight, but as clarity. Every strike she made carried the echo of the lights that had faded around them, as though their last breaths lent her the will to endure.

Bastila lifted her saber high, to parry another attack from a stormtrooper who had appeared through the smoke like a wraith, its violet glow burning against the choking smoke and the crackling blade of the vibro-knife. She kicked out at his forward leg, feeling it give in at the knee before she turned and plunged her saber down through his chest. “Lorn, there are more coming from the water!” she called, voice fierce despite the situation feeling desperate. Her chest still ached with grief, but beneath it, her resolve burned bright. “I’ll hold them, get to the pavilion.”

Bastila and Lorn move to the Pavilion
Bastila engages the Stormtroopers jumping from the bushes
The screams and deaths of the Hangyo-Jin fuel the supressive fear caused by the Death Star and the ritual above

OUTFIT: XoXo | TAG: Lorn Reingard Dark Forces EQUIPMENT:

​

 

[Katarine Ryiah]

Tags: Pal Veda

Pal's words cut through the haze of smoke and ringing in her ears. The Jedi Master exhaled sharply, pushing away the sting of dust and heat that clung to her skin. Every instinct screamed to hold position, but the Force surged in warning, a staccato rhythm that told her staying meant dying.

She snapped her lightsaber to life with a hiss, its white glow cutting through the chaos like a beacon. "As ready as I can get," she said, voice steady despite the pounding of her heart. Her eyes tracked the incoming fire, calculating the rhythm of the blaster bolts, the spaces between. The detonator went off and they were on the move, dodging blaster fire and debris.

The imperials were certainly making a statement and as someone who had seen the original Death Star Kat wasn't thrilled to be planet side at this moment. They needed to get off this rock and hopefully take as many people along the way as possible.

"So do we have a plan or are we making it up as we go?"

She wasn't sure she really wanted the answer to that question.

 

[Shan]

Location: Jar'Kai, Honeycomb District, moving to Temple of Healing, Atrisia
Objective: Bring Order to Chaos
Tags: Interacting with Laphisto 's guys

"I-I'm not...Urgh. Just forget it. These people are getting evacuated. I'm not."

There was no point in Shan going through his whole song and dance about not being a Jedi. In the eyes of the people, he was one. He might as well act like it as he ran his hand down his face, staining it with some of the soot and smoke in the air as Shan tried to figure out what the next best choice for him. Of course, he could evacuate with the civilians. Run away like he did on Coruscant. But that was something he had spent a long time running from. Two invasions of Coruscant in fact. If he had a credit for every time that happened...Well, he'd have two credits. Which is weird, but strange that it happened twice.

"Come on. Keep yourselves moving. Kick your rears in gear."

It was nearly the end of the fight for the civilians. Well. That was partly a lie. It was never the end when it came to something like this. These events lived with you. They scarred you. But Shan couldn't let himself focus on that, as he followed the Molten Crest squad over towards the FOB. Even as the weather started to play up, the wind and rain picking up, storming down around them. Better to have a natural storm than an explosi-...Why did he have to put his foot into his mouth? As soon as he had that thought, Shan could hear the sounds of artillery fire landing nearby. This would be fine. Shan just had to keep himself calm as they arrived at the FOB, before Shan immediately jabbed his finger in the direction of the nearest member of the Lilstate Order.

"You. Get these people out of here. Then don't let anyone bother me unless it's desperate."

With that, the Mirialan moved off to where he felt like he would at least be well defended from any shrapnel, before Shan lowered himself to the ground, shutting out the chaos surrounding him with a single, steadying breath. It was the same posture he had taken when he worked as a Doctor. Sit, focus, cut out the noise. The patient now was not a body on a table, or a child crying out for their mother but the knot of civilians and soldiers around him, their nerves frayed, their movements uncoordinated, their fear bleeding through every step. Fear was a disease. An infectious disease that could turn lethal. And he had to deal with it.

He reached into the Force the way a surgeon reached for a scalpel. No hesitation. No waste. With practiced precision, he began to stem the bleeding, stem the spread of Fear around him. Threads of panic were tied down with threads of calm. Adrenaline was tempered, redirected into rhythm. Fragments of despair were sealed over with determination, as if Shan was stitching hope into everyone, working on the threads that connected everyone throughout the Force. Each mind became a part of something larger, stitched together with care until they moved as one.

The noise of the battlefield became manageable. Their breathing linked up together and their desperation reshaped itself into purpose. It wasn't control, it was stabilization. He wasn't puppeteering them, he was triaging them. Helping to treat the most difficult of wounds, to the heart and mind.

On Coruscant, he had run. Twice. That memory clung to him like old smoke. But this was different. This time, he wasn't the one fleeing. This time, he was the one keeping the line from breaking. He would not be the first to leave. He would not turn tail and run. Shan was no fighter, but he was a Light in the dark.

TLDR: Shan arrived at the Lilstate FoB near the Bridge, handed over the civillians and is now working on using Battle Meditation

 

[Daro Kilaeon]

TAGS
ALLIES: Kasan Osera / Franceline Dawer / Darth Bellum / Kroeger / St. Thomas Barran / Sahar
ENEMIES: Junko Ike / Michael Barran / Laphisto / Vulpesen / Briana Sal-Soren / Kyric
​

As the heavies gathered up their scattered explosive charges, I laid down as much fire as I could alongside the other troopers. Our little formation was only as good as our ability to defend it, but I felt like a street dog in a corner, the kind you'd find when you went down to the 1000 levels of Coruscant, huddled between two other soldiers, all of us on one knee up against a fallen piece of durasteel. But we were far from Coruscant now...

My heart was racing, the pain in my hand flaring with every pull of the rifle's trigger. When the squad commander ordered smoke, I unclipped one of the two grenades I'd been given, the smoke. I tossed it out into the street, the grey plume giving us barely more than a moment's reprieve before we had to keep firing. We sprayed and prayed through the smoke. I could hear our shots connecting with enemies, and the roar of beasts beyond. It seemed that no matter where we pointed our rifles we would hit someone in service of the Atrisian Commonwealth.

The charges going off on the spire doors nearly knocked me over, and within moment the squad leader was ordering us inside. Before our smoke had cleared, we were rushing forward into the building, deeper into the enemy unknown. I heard the near perfect synchronicity of a bunch of boots hitting the duracrete, and knew it was the paratroopers. We couldn't see them save for the flurry of blaster bolts that pierced through the smoke and claimed a few more imperial lives. As I ran into the spire's lobby, I reached for my other grenade. The red button beeped with the arming signal of a thermal detonator, and hardly looking back I tossed it towards where I thought the paratroopers had landed. I was inside when I heard the explosion go off, and the screams of those who hadn't been able to get away from it. I hoped that would give us a moment, but we were in the heart of Jar'Kai, behind the lines of an enemy who seemed never ending. What good was the tip of the spear against an enemy armored to its core, where every Atrisian citizen was ready to give their life for their Emperor or their Alliance. I wondered how much of a choice they were given, fighting for their homes against Imperials who never had a say in getting in those pods and giving their lives for their Emperor.

 

[Junko Ike]

GROUND DEFENSE OF ATRISIA
OBJECTIVE: Continue towards Miyoung Iwata's Lab and activate Atlasbreakers
ALLIES: Kylass Starhaven Laphisto Lyssara Thrynn Vulpesen Xian Xiao Diarch Rellik Michael Barran Jane Everest Vale Omega Squad Shan
ENEMIES: Franceline Dawer Kasan Osera Dark Forces

Junko continued forward, the lab was the more important right now as her interface was feeding her large amounts of information from the sensors and the assembly. Atrisias beneficial AI monitored and reported as they fed more information to them. "There is smoke in the gardens, based on the sensors they are going to wake up the Hangyo-jin." She said it as they continued walking and Miyoung spoke as the tank and battledroid in front of them cleared parts of it. "Never understood why they chose to be in the sewers and tunnels." She said it and Junko looked at her. "Cause down there it isn't filtered and purified water. The pumps bring some up from the rivers under the mountain that they swim in but the cities pumps filter it and clean the water to much for their liking to feed it to the fruit trees. So they swim around there otherwise they might dry out and their offices have access to it like the Sura have their own landing area for when they fly." She said it and there was a nod from Miyoung while she continued forward and then stopped with Barca in front of them as she spoke. "I is blocked, debris and bodies." She said it while Junko looked around at the other handmaidens with a look. "Can we move it or are we going through the buildings?" They looked while moving with the conclusion. "It would be faster to go through the buildings. Safer to in case trouble comes from well I am not sure, the Wukong will be bringing the rest of their riders soon enough. Three of the Majokoi are here right now... when ten, twenty arrive with their riders. Ones that aren't fully grown and able to move better through the streets or even reach into the buildings where they are hiding." Qi said it while she held her saber and the Wukong padawans had served JUnko alongside Min. The princess gave a nod of her head while she motioned. "Alright, I'll escort Miyoung through the buildings, divide up and get around. Barca have your wardroid ascend and get it on the roof. Phaidor get through it if you can but don't take too long. If it can't be done quickly in a tank we aren't going to send you back to find a new way."

There were nods as they divided up and Barca set her wardroid to clim into the air and go on top of the building. The interface showing from Kenzo that the military was assembling at the second gate to march through to the first and the city itself. Heavy fighters and screaming as other units arrived. She had a small moment of sympathy which was replaced as the look of people jumping off the Spire raised an eyebrow but it seemed the battle had already went up there... which just reaffirmed why they moved the leadership around. Sitharia was still around there but Kirano said she thrived in a scenario like this and the Chi-Oni forces were what the implants sought to copy. Ancient Atrisian genetics were dangerous and they spent centuries practicing warfare. The fighting came when more smoke rose with Barca speaking. "Smoke in the building getting tossed in." The door was opened and she moved forward with her armored form covering Junko as she slipped in with Moiyoung and the others. Seeing Kasan Osera and her team in the force rushing in. A motion to Barca to hold but they moved into a defensive position as Kaori, Min and Qi brought the shield to be around them and into the back room. Displacing the smoke when she spoke to the woman. "Hold." Her voice coming out as Junko stood there looking through the smoke, her own presence immersed in the current while she concealed her force presence. The calmness of the smart cloud and towers still washing over the planet. The kazue stone repairing itself while the smart clouds were converting impurities in the air into raw matter to repair areas of the walls and stone. Barca remained in the front with her cannon as Junko continued when the smoke went away. "You are going to want to stand down and discard your weapons." She said it when some of the other handmaidens had come in taking a defensive position within the shield. Her eyes looking at them while she motioned. "Thuria open a window and let fresh air in." She said it looking at them while she waited a moment.

Reikeiden meanwhile she moved Franceline Dawer into the building and was looking at her while he stood there. The sounds of the battle coming when danger but he still opened windows when the man looked at her. She was starring at him while his hand went to his belt belt. "Drink." He said it handing her the water while he moved to take off some of his outfit where blood had caked. A stab in his shoulder while he stood by the window and he spoke. "You kicked up quite the nest you know. Mobilization like this hasn't been done since the last attack." He was remaining there as the Stardust Medical System in the air, the medical system they had for the hospital and temple was in the city. If it was being attacked it would release to aid the city. The healing air of it making the stab start to heal when he looked at her. "The smart cloud will clean and filter the air, breathe in and give it a moment." He remained there with a gun in one hand ready in case but he wasn't showing a hostility. The sounds of something coming out of one of the shop grates brought his attention around and a Hangyo rushed out of it gasping. Her breathing compromised with the poison on the upper areas of the water. Her shifting to land was there as Rei spoke holding her steady. "Its okay, give it a moment. The stardust as she gasped and choked getting to work enough when her eyes had a puffiness to it but she had a sharp intake. "Fires... poison." She spoke laying there but he nodded. "Yeah a lot of that going around." The choking sound as the species could last on the surface and the stardust was beginning to filter her body at the gills. Rei propped her up as he spoke. "The gardens are connected to your entrance way right?" He said it and they had a knowledge of the cities water ways but the Hangyo used them to not be above the city all the time. "Yes, the others smelled the blood and came up. Some choked and others fled down to the river. The poison will dilute with the filters and pumps but we can't go to the surface there right now." SHe spoke as Rei looked at Franceline and came over finding a place to stand. "You got a name?" He said it and mostly was calm about it.

Junko continued to stare off with the woman, her eyes from the side of Barca who used her size to cover and fill the frame of the doorway. "I do not know what you hoped to do here? We merely wanted to be left alone. Now things are going to get worse." Her voice came out more sympathetic in its moment when she was looking at her. Thuria opening a window as Junko looked at her. "Breathe in the air, the filters in the air will handle the spoke and the healing nanites will help exposed wounds." Let it not be said they wouldn't show some grace in the face of those seeking to slaughter them for... reasons. Junko moved forward and looked from behind Barca while Miyoung moved off to the side and she spoke looking at one of the soldiers who held his rifle up aiming and switching targets. "Put it down." Her voice was more firm but she looked at him. "Because if you don't, the fatigue you are feeling, the hurt from the attack it if going to make your shot missing and hit the wall or it will miss and go wide. Then the mandalorian in front of you is going to grab you, smash your face in and we are going to continue towards our goal going through all of you." She said it less threatening and more as a point of fact. "So put the gun down, we'll give you something to eat while the next things happen and some water." The alternative was there and Junko didn't even reveal her lightsaber on her hip she just presented herself as an important person being escorted by a large group of protectors. She remained there while the sounds of the Taeki finding others who had been moving around with the massive dragons flinging around debris and Empire soldiers. The rroars were there and Junko only paused when Sun contacted her and was speaking for all of them to hear her. "Hey Princess, you seeing all of the chatter?" Junko raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean we are in a battle." The Mirialian nodded.

"Yeah but it looks like the main military is at the gates and assembling finally. You also have a massive continent of Chi-Oni approaching the city." her voice was coming out for all of them to hear. "The Kyushi are also bringing their military forces and sappers. So you are going to want the clothing filters. THeir poisons are nasty." Junko didn't argue with that... Moon had shown her some of them and aside from the basics for food or drinks. The kind that was inhaled could do several things but the ones derived from Dokkaebi on aa force user was.... dangerous. She had seen the plant itself when inhaled in a spa where it grew and it was good for some with meditation but outside of it like taking incredibly dangerous hallucinogenics. "Princess, there is also a unit of Ta-Wa-Ka and Senkaku with the Chi-Oni forces. Be careful, they are engines of destruction in the security protocols for a reason." SHe spoke aand Junko gave a nod of her head.. she had wanted to possibly have them brought but knowing the Chi-Oni forces cared for glory meant they would bring all of their strongest with the reserves left over to protect the Crystal Palace and the different royals on the world. She waas mentally debating whaat to say but Kirano was there as she spoke and held her rifle aat the rready. "Well my Mother does have both her children up on the surfaace if anything they are there to make sure we are brought back properly." A smirk was on her face when she knew the danger coming and her sister was out there in the streets with a small squad as Sitharia threw a few around. "We'll handle it once the immediate problem is done. The repair drones and reconstructors will be able to rebuild a lot of the damage and Miyoung estimates the additional forces from Kiliea and Frisal will be arriving soon enough. THey just have to find their ways through the ships in orrbit. We'll have the fleets make a corridor for them." She wasn't worrried about the woman she was watching, the intel would be known soon enough so harder to be a danger. "If you want to try and get on the comms to your masters, you can. Our defensive plans were implemented hours before your arrived."

Meanwhile Kenzo was watching from the wall as she could see several units forming up. The fastest being she could see in their gleaming armor and fighting in pairs on Shima Class Cycles with Tripitaka Class Skiffs as their Crescent Blades and Kelsang Rifles were prepared. The Jade screamers as a unit were faster moving and formed into several wedges like an arrowhead. Their drivers controlling the forward facing weapons and the second rider acting as cover. Behind each wedge of screamers would follow Rollers in the gaps aand carefully maintained. The wedge opens the formation up on the charge.. the rollers deliver a following hammer before the combination of the heavy fighters would follow as the Jīsan Heavy Tanks with Busan Rapid Assault Walkers would deliver more of a punch. THeir aarmor gleaming before Kenzo spoke. The sounds of drums being heard from along the second wall as the turrets continued to fire at the locations of Imperial soldiers and what had been formed on them. Her metsuka were continuing to reinforce with warbeasts before the banners came out. Communications could be jammed but drums, sounds and banners for communications. The sounds of the Sanzang Class Armors as they marched from the heavy fighters and were maade for dropping more barricades served well enough. The sounds of the Transport Gunships came as they were able to be seen. The Assault corp visible in their different colored armor. The Kabaneri Class Fighters from the citys spire still there but more had come in as they hovered and sent into walker mode. With Kabaneri Class Bombers marching while the Kabaneri Class Interceptor moved for aaerial dominations with the caarriers. Their projected shields maintained. Kenzo stood next to Zhang as she spoke with the final and most important parts in the back of it. Jar'kai was a capital, it wasn't the home of the Emperor or seat of them. The spire was aa maassive aport and apartment complex.. a megablock. The black aarmorred forms of the assembled Royal Military with their kelsang rifles were marching. The Mojokai unit of the heavy fighters taking positions on the wall as they secured Jiuweihu Rifles on the wall. The overly designed sniper rifles meant for anti... everything she mused.

"I can't say I have. mobilization like this hasn't been seen on the world for centuries... at least organized. Different units, specializations. The previous wars and attacks were just a military force... now it has tactics from militaary forces all aacross the galaxy to keep it improving." She said it as the metsuka taught the military, the Hibana, the Sibsi, the chiss taught, twi'leks gave them gurilla tactics in resisting and they still had more. The regional armies to come as Kenzo could see the communications from the Generals of Storm and Fiendfire. The Onna were marching with their more dangerous units. "Start sending units of the engineers to secure and reinforce the support areas. We have the third wall to keep secured and the shield projectors there will be vital for continued coverage." Zhang gave a nod of her head, the three walls with secontional shielding for the city to layer it coordinated with the spire yes but redundencies were important to have in any military unit. "See if we can get in contact with the Bei Xi palace. It is one of Sasori's company strongholds on the planet and will have some of their more advanced things. Maybe some of their power armors or advanced jedi units and strike teams." She said it and Zhang laughed. "They have those siege platforms and replicating soldiers." She said it and the hydra biots they had deployed earlier were beneficial. Replicating with enough material and living up to the idea of cutting one head off while two more took its place. There was a sound coming over it all from the city though. a lone pocket tank crashing into imperial soldiers as Phaidor was driving and firing. moving with speed as she turned quickly and the gunk from the soldiers messed with the traction of the treads to cause a wide turn. She gunned it pulling past Jaane and Eve aas she spoke. "Come on jedi, we got family to save." She recognized Eve from her visit to the Palace of the Hidden with a nod of her head. Junko could feel something as the familiar sensation of battle meditation came. The solace devices had benen set out to counterr a phobis device to cause fear aamong the forces... it worked wonderrs to help with the fear and displays of it.. the towers they used and nanites with solari to spread the lightside nexus fo the city benefitting from Shan's actions as it spread.

Phaidor kept going, she didn't have the other Handmaidens aside from Sun who was there in the Palace of the Hidden. She waas their overwatch if you were not certain.. she also never left the palace basement unless Junko coaxed her getting out of it. Phaidor was listening to the comchannels with the tank for the others who were there as she continued. She was getting around to the side of the building fast enough when the sounds of Vulpesen came from above and she looked around. Interest in this as she fired off an aeons missile. The shot going from the cannon as it went down the street... then it duplicated itself. One becoming three and three becoming thirteen while each one multiplied into three more missiles that impacted into the debris that was getting in the way. They could move arround the areas so that she could pick up Junko before Barca's waardroid on the room finished walking. The verradune zorrens were fierce while she stopped when they surged through the gap to engage Imperial forces. She moved quickly before she was turning again with her hands over the controls. There were forces on the bridge which had conflicting reports as Orbital snipers were working on handling groups forces with shots made to smash through anything really and... few could reach them. She saw fithers coming from the walls towards the caarriers int he sky itself. The under guns being able to fire off into areas with ion cannons.

Royal Military x
Assault Corps x
Heavy Fighters x
Jade Screamers x
Metsuka x
Yofukashi x
Yovshin Swordsmen x
Xianghua Initiative x
Dorīmugādo x
Burakkugādo x
Wukong: x

TL;DR: Summary of Actions

• Princess Junko and her team continue moving thrrough the city towards the scientists labs and advanced weapon projects
• Atrisian forces continue defensive measures with continued waves of reinforcements advancing as Chitai forces begin marching with Kyushi force
• Junko and company encounter Kasan Osera in the building they go through.
• Reikeiden tends to a poisoned Hangyo-jin (an aquatic species) and the captured Franceline, offering aid and information.
• Kenzo, from the city walls, observes the massive and highly organized Atrisian military mobilizing in a layered, formidable formation to counter the attack.
• Phaidor driving a tank moves alongside Jane and Eve acknowledging family as she is speeding away to get around the debris to Junko.
• The sensations of battle meditation amplified by the force towers and solace to resist fear and phobis devices coaat Atrisian forces.

 

[Jane]

Outfit: Jedi Robes and Armor
Inventory: Jedi training Lightsaber modified, pouches with seeds, standard Jedi equipment, Anouk.
Tag: Everest Vale l Junko Ike l NPC Soldiers
Objective: The Imperial March
Location: Jar'Kai, Road

Isari's fur pressed up against her side, and Everest' soothing warmth behind her; it was enough to anchor her. To calm whatever small nerves she did feel, and to steel her grip around the controls as she tried her best to not lose control over the tank.

Even as the first Imperial soldiers fell left and right thanks to Everest's well-placed shots, the melody within the hull remained constant; it felt like the first day of spring, with snowflakes still dancing through the air and lilac flowers growing through the beds of white. It was a balance between both Padawan and Master, their unique song that carried through their bond.

Another tank approached them, and the short girl heard a voice she didn't recognize. She had no idea what it was about; was it something about keeping a family safe? But she couldn't deny that it was really cool. It felt like some of the holomovies she had seen while traveling. Jane's small hand lifted up into a thumbs up gesture toward the woman, before the lady blitzed away again.

A new issue appeared shortly after, though, as some of the Imperials in front of Jane constructed a roadblock to stop the Pocket tank while Jane and Everest were speeding, because the Force knew that Jane didn't know how to drive slowly.

Based on the armor described by the instructor, they could drive through it without taking too much damage. However, driving through the soldiers risked injuring or killing them. That shouldn't have mattered given the shots Everest was taking, but it did to Jane; if the Jedi taught her anything, it was to never take a life without first trying Form Zero.

And so, as the Pocket Tank approached the roadblock set up by the Imperials who had managed to enter through the north eastern side of the wall, Jane pressed the brakes. The tank came to a screeching halt, surprising the Imperials, who temporarily stopped their bolt assault.

"Just one second, Master. I forgot about something." Jane told Everest, before she unbuckled herself and crawled up ontop of her chair, to be able to open the window. By now, the rain of bolts had resumed, causing the lights inside the tank to flicker every now and then.

"Hello." Wait. She couldn't speak to strangers. Uhm. "I am Jane." That solved that. "I need you to surrender or move out of the way. Please do not stay in the center of the road. Thank you."

A bolt found its way through the window Jane had opened, narrowly missing her face. Jane, unconcerned as usual, simply closed the window and returned to her seat, snuggling up beside Isari while strapping herself in. She then counted in her head. One, two, three, four seconds... More lights in the tank flickered as more bolts were fired at the tank's shield.

Five seconds.

Jane pressed the gas pedal, sending the tank flying straight towards the blockade. Imperials scattered left and right, trying not to be run over by the Pocket Tank, before Jane steered the entire machine through the blockade, piercing it with a lot of noise and shaking within the hull and no doubt countless scratches on the outside.

But that didn't matter to Jane; they got through it.

 

[Sahar]

She had felled several in short, brutish succession; she stopped short of the lone survivor, raising her lightsaber up high, her blade illuminating the barren demonic visage Sahar cast upon the terrified Atrisian as she watched him try to crawl away like a trapped bug. She slowly stepped after him, putting her foot down on his leg as she held her blade in a downward angle to skewer him.

But her efforts were cut short by a lightsaber that spun through the ash-filled air and knocked her blade off balance, allowing the lone Atrisian to scuttle away quickly and run into the rubble-strewn landscape.

Turning around fast, she twisted her head to the side as she studied the woman approaching her with all the finesse of a predator staring down its next meal.

"Your fight is with me, Dark One, and it shall be short-lived." - Kylass Starhaven

Sahar squinted at her, her face twisting into what could only be described as a look of delight.

"That's what they all said, but I'm still here, and your compatriots are one with the force. Tell me, Arkanian, are you in a rush to meet the rest of them?"

She laughed sickly, looking her up and down while taking note of the Jedi's appearance, porcelain Arkanian skin, unmarred; they were a majestic species. Sahar wondered if they were truly a warrior people. Maybe she'd cut the woman's head off and give it as an offering to her lord.

That'd be nice.

Sahar tilted her head and grinned at her. With a flick of her gloved hand, she used the force to rip up the rocks around them and forced them at her in a hail of debris as she reignited her lightsaber and rushed to meet the Jedi one-on-one.

Kylass Starhaven @any other Jedi scum

 

[St. Thomas Barran]

DUELLING TAGS
Friend: N/A
Foe: Shinzou Ashina Kito

WARPOSTING TAGS
Friend: Dark Forces Kasan Osera Darth Bellum Franceline Dawer
Kroeger Daro Kilaeon
Foe: Zark San Tekka Corin Kaze Wedge Draav Vulpesen Laphisto

Ira Dei
III

​

EXPANSION DISTRICT 4, MIRAI JAR'KAI,
ATRISIA, GALACTIC CORE TERRITORIES (903 ABY)

Didn't expect the spire would be so well-protected.
No harm, no foul.

Always a way around the shielding.... I'm looking for a villa - not a damn tower-block.​

Before, barely a Force-Jump into the inner-city itself, enough breathing-room had been afforded to stroll his way through unchecked, but for every step he neared to the beating heart of Jar'Kai itself, the Khan would feel all more uneasy. In part, due to the stealthy disposition of some on Atrisia, but mostly (and it felt all the stronger in the mind with every street he passed) for creeping intensity of the Force Signatures he felt as he traversed ever closer to the Spire in question, all but assuring the Bloodhound's change of approach. But when the realisation finally dawned on the Khan, representing a challenge so insurmountable that he was given no choice but to reroute, the careful effort to avoid the energy-shield dome seemed almost totemic in nature.

And St. Thomas, to his credit, would not fly too close to the sun that day. He only had an old estate, and one particular name in mind.

Thus with no other choice but to act in his best interest, the Bloodhound rolled his one-remaining eye with distate before letting the storm catch up and overtake his position, plotting his path through all the lanes and alleyways with what little time he had before the snow had it's way with the route ahead. But just when the snow was about to reach them, just city block or two away, a voice called out,'Something tells me you're not here for the food or sights,', in the distance, approaching with the unmistakable presence of a powerful warrior. Making it all the more thrilling was the fact the Khan recognised the energy surrounding this man, though he remembered as one belonging to another, to a warrior carrying the name he was seeking out.

'Y'know, I think it'd be best if you just turned and left the way you came before it gets worse for you here, friend. Can't promise you'll be walking out of here otherwise with all your limbs still attached to you if you don't leave now.'

'Beautiful city, must be said, but for me, life could never be simple enough for aimless visitation.', the one-eyed Woad shot back in reply, trailing off to prepare for single combat, quite happy to settle for one he was already beginning to believe was another of the Ashina clan. St. Thomas had long since remembered the hue, the brightness, and the intensity of the power with which he contested on Empress Teta, so many years ago, but much had changed for the the Bloodhound since; ever so eager to achieve feats that were worthy of history, more earnest than ever in his bid to become the Galaxy's strongest, and a worthy challenge was walking up to meet Barran's sword with a sword of his own.

'I mean, I can see already that this fight was fated, look at the tale o' the tape for instance. We're both missing a right eye, we're both swordsmen, with powers, an' to top it all off, we both come from clans of great renown.... Now, you might not be Ishida - but you are still an Ashina, I can tell.'

In the process of responding, the Khan would patiently continue preparing for battle, starting by leaning his Chantress on an abandoned speeder-bike that was already covered in dust, debris, and the first layers of snow by then. After that, St. Thomas would relax on his telekinetic methods, letting the suspended sabre fall into his grasp before switching it off, and when he finally clipped the curved Makashi hilt to his utility belt, the time finally came to remove his cloak for freedom of movement. Revealing a bare chest that was riddled with scars and tribal markings, with prison-tattoos bared on his back as he reached for his sword, but when the Songsteel menace (his Chantress) rested once more on his shoulder, the most-prominent scar of all would be made visible.

'From one clan to another, the die was cast decades ago.... We might as well commit.'

The Khan had concluded, but just in time for the next snowstorm to reach them, though it mattered little in consideration of his close-proximity to the Atrisian challenger at the time, the means of sneaking around the shield-array had been scuppered; but then a realisation dawned on St. Thomas, and whilst both one-eyed warriors awaited the first move, it seemed the snow would serve an entirely different purpose. History itself would tell a story through the snow, and in understanding of Clan Barran's recent history (and in turn, the Ashina's too) with fights in the snow, the strength of inherited Will had a chance of making this fight a mutually-inspiring contest in it's latter stages.

[OOC Note - Shinzou still controls the pacing, I'll follow your lead and try to make it fun.]

AUXILIA
III

​

EXPANSION DISTRICT 1, MIRAI JAR'KAI,
ASTRISIA, GALACTIC CORE TERRITORIES (903 ABY)

[Woooosh]

[THUD]
'Wait, what?! How'd that happen?'​

Standing outside in the blizzards, the Darkhan was enjoying a brief calm as he watched the progressing of his operation, or at least, for as long as their efforts remained visible. The artillery guns, however, were atop the wall at the time, and far too-high above to be seen from ground level, but with his comm-link device at the ready, the repetitive requests for coordinates surely let the old Atrisian know they were, in fact, still there, poised to level targets across the chasm's gap. But just as his neck craned upward one last time, the sight of (what appeared to be-) a starship descending through the darkening, snow-covered sky above, directing it's trajectory toward the Expansion Wards, likely to avoid certain death by descending toward the valley floor.

Not that life would be any easier for the crew when they landed, especially not if the resulting crash-site hostilities were anything to go by.

The feigned attack was well-underway by then, and with nowhere to turn, it would be a slaughter at the opposite end of the bridge; though it started well enough, the detonation that blew it open would mean nothing to the other Mawsworn at the time, only to the vengeful Horse Lords who were still on the way at the time. But then something happened, and just like the previous development, it neither improved nor impeded the proceedings of the Preacher's battleplan, or at least, not by any normative metric. Just another of the many peculiar happenings expected to befall the Maw before sunrise the next morning, not that this helped the Darkhan's confusion at the sight of a Jedi materialising just a few paces away.

[THUUM]
[THUD]​

'Huh?! Oh, right.... Its Jedi turf.'

The daring Jedi, however, would be met with an eerie, unpopulated silence, devoid of mobilisation movement in the moments following his materialisation at the other side of the bridge, trapped in a dilemma of conscience, and the merits of weather-dependent strategy. The Force Storms' intensity had caught the planet's capital-region in the early throes of winter, and with arrangements already made among the brigade's high-command, the old Atrisian exile had played himself into the most-unpredictable of circumstances, such that likely would not be of any help to either counterpart in these moments.

Yet even with the heavy snow, (and the strong winds at that) the Preacher knew the Jedi could hear the commotion in the west, the blasters and the screams in the distance; and though these screams were unlikely to represent a GADF majority of duress at that point, the sheer horror, quietened by winter though it was, would be enough to illustrate the Darkhan's impending point. Even pointing westward to the last shots fired in anger at the failed bridge assault, Ghoul couldn't help but ponder,'You missed the party here and there, by the way. You even missed the crashed starfighter.... What gi-?', before the sudden interruption reminded him of the real assault on the inner-city, just moments away from the plan's true implementation.

<"-Beacon set, concentrate fire - bring that entire section down to the valley floor.">
<"Copy that, loading now, caution to brace for firepower">
​

'That timing, though.'

Laughing to himself as the battery-crews shouted with urgency, calling in commands and replies too high above to be heard from the ground, the Darkhan shrugged before finally focusing on the Jedi to suggest,'No malice intended, but honestly, you're better off going back the way you came - all the fun's over there now.... No matter - I'll see you around, Jedi.', concluding just in time to make his point before the guns began firing their first salvo. It was then the Darkhan smiled, tilting with a nod of the head before turning back toward the warmth of the south tower, walking away from the commotion with every faith the damage had been done; not in jest, nor in taunting ignorance, as such things were always easier for Ghoul's sort to delegate in encounters like these.

There was nothing left to say, and with the Preacher's part played to it's fullest, natural conclusion, all that was left to do was enjoy the view while he awaited the arrival of the Horse Lords, feeling no need to over-exert himself by then. Whether it had more to do with the sword at his hip, or more to do with the Ysalamiri container held in his off-hand, it seemed to matter little and less to old Ghoul by then, this wasn't his first, nor would it be his last encounter with Force-Wielders of Light Side, Ashlan disposition. The distant impacts of artillery-salvos were audibly volatile by then, and before long, the sound of crashing rubble thundered westward across the chasm beyond, further compounding the need for a commanding presence over yonder.

By the time the tower-entrance door shut behind him, the following hostilities would be someone else's problem until the Horse Lords finally showed up - and they were still hours away at the time.

[OOC Note - The feigned attack on the bridge was always fated to fail, committing the most-unruly of Keshigs to the task of opening the gate. Though they succeeded, they perished to the last man.... Adequate enough as a distraction, paving the way for an attack of covert means, using the snow as cover and zero'ing in for artillery support. Firefight at the crash-site had no survivors, but I figured it might be spicy to find out that the squad sent to wipe them out were also killed in the struggle.]

[The resulting salvos have torn down that segment of wall from beneath, creating a steep but passable incline for the majority to join the attack. I intend for the Maw to attack southwestward from there, pushing into G1 from that one,"Checkpoint", widening into a three-pronged advance from there.... Now, lets have us sum Stalingrad vibes, hm?]

 

[Michael Barran]

-Ally Tags-
Zark San Tekka Corin Kaze Wedge Draav
-Enemy Tags-
Dark Forces Darth Bellum

WRATH OF GOD
3

​

North Garrison HQ, Mirai Jar'Kai,
Atrisia, Galactic Core Territories (903 ABY)

Junko Ike
<"-this is Miyoung of the Otachi. Those sounds are for Majokoi alerts. They are friendly units to lightsiders. No matter what you see do not fire on them or use the apartments in the Spire for cover. The airships docked at the top can help if needed.">
<"Copy that, checking fire until they pass.">​

'Busy day, so it is.'

With supply-and-support relays in place, awaiting activation and a given route to follow, the Protectorate/Local Garrison contingent could operate with clear and present autonomy, and with commands in place from the Lord Imperator to take whatever initiative that occurred throughout the battle. Leeway of which even the high-command structure knew they needed, as there was an autonomy of their own of which they needed to exercise that day, as every possible act of cooperation was likely to be factored into the chance of mending bridges, a necessity of a magnitude grand enough it virtually dictated Barran's every step.

'Look to the skies, your Majesty.'

<"Ah, Miyoung! I can see these creatures now.... They're magnificent.">
​

Flying above their approach to the Spire, the dragon-like creatures were large enough that they could be seen travelling through the snowfall, high above, soaring in serpentine form toward the southern battlefront as Michael's armoured column slowly trundled behind them. Even this had proven to be a morale-boost, small and fleeting though the moment was for all in the Protectorate armoured column, another sign of which that Michael would not be shirking small moments of peace that day; and certainly not for as long as his faith in sentients persisted, unwavering in a continued refusal to waver on such matters, thus was the way of the Tattered Regent.

Humbled by circumstance, regal in character.

It was on this level of humility that the Protectorate would rely most of all, as it was in the hope this would help to properly delegate that which they had planned to endeavour next, that being the intent to form a joint-ops counteroffensive with the highest of local warfighting authorities, one Zark san Tekka. Another of the previous century's legends, and another of the greats for whom many people still fought in the first years of the next, marking a level of seniority only yesteryear's warriors could obtain, all of which would be factored into the assumption that the old Master was the man in charge on Atrisia that day.

'Alright then, whats the sit-rep in the east?'
'Mawites broke in just north of the bridge-gate, your Majesty. Their lines are widening, but the locals still hold - for now, anyways.'
'Oh, ye of little faith.... Come on, Roy. You know better than that.'

​

A short halt would then be initiated, simply automating as the Lord Imperator considered his options, resources, and means of banding local warriors together, thinking on the way such rallying methods always worked to great benefit at the height of the Second Hyperspace War; the wheels within Michael's mind, however, would not start turning until the old Woad briefly looked over his left shoulder, catching a glimpse of the Temple of Healing when the realisation finally dawned on him. With someone else at the helm, there was nothing to stop other prominent warriors from rallying contingents of their own, and nothing at all to impede their ability to galvanise shaken compatriots, thus the encouragement to band together would resound all the more rightly with the right nudge to lead their own, counteroffensive prong of attack.

Jand Talo
<"Temple-relay, Temple-relay - whoever can hear this! Your commander needs to rally troops for defense against the Mawite offensive, Protectorate units will be on their way to assist soon.... Whoever is listening - just hold on! We won't keep you waiting too long!">
​

'Aaaa.... Alright, then. SOUTHWARD, LETS GO!!!!'

With a simple, quick few hammer-fist thumps on the ACV's steely hull, all the column's repulsorlift engines gradually roared into life, one after the other awakening to move in domino-falling succession; echoing with growls that bounced echoes off the surrounding high-rises, announcing their presence as the old Woad dropped into the protection of the armoured shell that carried him, already moving toward the spire by the time he sat down to let the gunner resume his duties. Something about this kind of experience seemed to feel familiar, even nostalgic to the point of uncanniness, like it went deeper than recognition of his father's way of life, though Barran had known for years that armoured warfare was in his blood as much as it was in the way warfare was evolving.

The Stormchaser was smiling in Sedes Aurea, watching on with a grin of proud, fatherly satisfaction.

Fair do's, old man.... Fair do's.​

'I wonder how Tancred's getting on.'
'Might as well check in, Your Majesty. You know the young Saint will be needed soon.'
'Good point, hold on.... On an' off the comms like a vertical-leap platform, so I am.'
'Heh! Get on with it, man!'

As much as the Lord Imperator had shirked the influences of his father, wisely stepping out of Erskine's shadow to become a man of his own making, Michael could not help but reciprocate that pride for a moment, becoming quite willing to admit there were worse things than this to admire about his long-departed predecessor. All that the Lord Regent had strived and fought to achieve, as lofty as those soaring heights became, there was a Majokoi-like purpose in the life he lived, striving most of all to keep the Galaxy's greatest evils from wiping the Empire, Galidraani and Goidels alike, and most of all, his entire family from the annals of history.

<"Mask One to Mask Two! It looks like you'll need to take a couple squads an' supplies to the Temple of Healing, think you're up to it? Should be quiet up north for now.">

[Hsssss]

<"Your Majesty, its not that I won't, its that I can't - I'm already ascending through orbit.">
<"Tancred.... What are you doing?">
<"Its not me.... But yes, I am, in every, consenting sense, a willing participant in this.">
<"Tancred.... What are you doing?">
<"Yorunarr is taking me to rescue Lilia - to rectify our mistake!">

[OOC Notes - Whatever defenders need, Michael is here to help you hold the line, bolster attacks and resupply if and when its needed. Will coordinate IC via comm-link array in my NEXT post, and if any Jedi/warposters lack opps, come find the old man, we can team up and survive it all together.]

 

[Franceline Dawer]

She was staring at him while his hand went to his belt. "Drink." He said it handing her the water while he moved to take off some of his outfit where blood had caked. A stab in his shoulder while he stood by the window and he spoke. "You kicked up quite the nest you know. Mobilization like this hasn't been done since the last attack."

Limp from the shock of the change in environment, Franceline's arms weakly went for the bottle. She was breathing irregularly, shivering and looking around to determine the people she had been placed next to. Before its unopened rim had reached her lips, she paused to yank out her radio, flipping it over, and removing the single square battery which was stored within. The communication device was drained of its life instantly.

She pushed it slightly away from her body, looking up to the man.

"Why? Why- "

The irregularity of her breathing increased, and under the lights of the room they had entered into, Reikeiden could see that the colour of her skin was starting to change, moving towards a colder, almost bluer hue.

"You got a name?"

Her eyes moved downward at the deactivated communication machine. She coughed, nodding once.

"Fran- " another bit of coughing, " -ne"

"Listen to me - there is something you need to kn-" she added, before suddenly dropping the bottle and collapsing to the side.

Somewhere off in the midst of battle, a powerful Sith ( Darth Bellum ) had begun intensifying his assault on the force, and the metaphysical attrition had taken its toll. Unknowingly, her connection to its mythical energies had rendered her at risk greater than most of the others present, and like a canary in a coal mine, she was the first to begin losing herself to the adverse effects of the planet-wide ritual, which had come to claim their due. What little she could've resisted, had been utterly nullified by her battle injuries.

Her entire body started contorting in front of the man. It sounded as if she was being tortured before them, gasping for air. So strong were the convulsions, that it was enough to throw her hat off her head, to which she immediately began grasping her hair. Thankfully for her scalp, every now and then she would be forced to let go from her spasms, only for the painful tugging to begin again.

In-between winces and pained groans, the Lead Investigator could sense that she was trying to tell him something very important, which had been interrupted by her sudden sharp decline in health. Perhaps this had been why she had turned off her radio beforehand, after struggling to comprehend their openly-given mercy.

---

Target tag:
Junko Ike

 

[Diarch Rellik]

The air thickened, Rellik felt the scar along his cheek ache and instantly he knew that it was calling out to that damned blade. The one that cut him on Serenno. He took that pain and folded it into a responsibility. He knew what was coming. Knew that it was beyond those that were with him. Yet, they were not alone. They were together and Rellik was not the same man bound to die on Serenno.

Looking out he saw the man. A shadow made manifest in the eyes but that degree of darkness could never hide within the force. The ruby gem upon his amulet giving out such a disgusting aura that even one dead to the force would probably feel it. Despite their distance as Rellik helped coordinate Wrathian Kell and Darth Nexion to go help within the inner walls, Rellik could hear him.

"I took your voice in the Force and left you a throat full of ghosts" His hand tightened on the Spear of the Star-Fallen King, the shaft humming faintly with restrained power. Much had changed since that time. The spirit of the Warden of Kiev'ara screamed in defiance of the Shadow Hands lord. Resonating with Rellik's own feelings in his soul. "Never again will I doubt my purpose. Doubt whether I am a pawn or free. If my father loves me, or if my life is just. It is my path, force or no force."

"Pyrrhax - go hunt" In an instant his Adar leapt off and began helping the others in the fight.

His mind steadied and he watched as the daemon of his past ripped through a lot of his men already. In more than just body but spirit. He shifted his heel back, bracing the spear of the Star fallen king on his shoulder. Then his voice cut clear for his team.

"Remember the code my apprentices."

Bonds of Unity Create Power
Power Shared is Power Multiplied
Power Multiplied Creates Purpose
Purpose for Order over Chaos
Loyalty Above All

"We are a family. Fight together, be smart. Do not let him close. Keep your distance. Follow my lead. We need to hammer one place until it fails. His armor lives, reacting to our attacks. We are going to pressure his chest plate and force the runes and beast within his armor to keep it together under heavy heavy HEAVY pressure, you got that. Whenever we get a chance, we must annihilate the runes and be quick. If we falter for even a moment, his armor will heal and reform. Be a team."

"I trust you will all know what to do. I believe in you."

With a launch the Diarch dashed forward. Prepared to face his destiny. "WHIRLWIND!" He called out. Hoping Kallous had remembered some of their old tricks the Diarch began to circle Prazutis. Beginning their assault with Force Blasts that were called on from a neutral standing in the force. Hoping to not feed the Daemons insatiable hunger.

Then it would be up to Lyssara to hit the runes with Ichor as it easily absorbed the blasts and Xian to keep Prazutis from being able to come close and dominate any member of the team.

Their lives were all in the balance, all of them needed each other if they intended to see this day through. Yet, just like Rellik himself - his apprentices had come a long way. All of them now confident in themselves, honed in their own adventures and born anew. Ready for something the Diarch would have hoped they would never have to face.

Lyssara Thrynn Kallous Xian Xiao Darth Prazutis

Rellik Personal inventory
Single bladed Lightsaber - Conviction
The Blooded Seer Cloak
Spear of the Star-Fallen King
Corrosive Kov'dra Daggers
LO-58A armor
LO-22S Side Arm
Crimson Elixir

Sitting in the dropship - NZ BCG-1.1 "Garuda" Coil Gun

 

[Pal Veda]

Location: Jar'Kai, Atrisia — just outside the spire
Objective: Survive and maybe save a few people along the way
Allies: Katarine Ryiah
Enemies: Nameless Imps

“If you have to ask,” Pal yelled over his shoulder as he pushed off into a sprint, “then you already know the answer!” Pew! Pew! Blaster bolts zoomed by too close for comfort. At least he wasn’t too concerned about his Jedi companion. He heard the lightsaber ignite, and he knew she could take care of herself with that white laser sword of hers.

What concerned Pal was Master Ryiah’s heart. He always joked that he was a hero. And in truth, he actually was in many respects. Just rarely by choice. It usually involved some messy situation like the one in which he currently found himself. But Kat couldn’t help herself. That’s why they were heading into fire instead of away from it. Civilians were stuck between the warring soldiers, and of course they were going to save them. That’s what heroes do, right?

As Pal hightailed it across the street to the entrance of the adjacent building, an Imperial soldier appeared in the busted door frame. Luckily, his blaster wasn’t at the ready, and he wasn’t expecting to step directly into the path of a human missile. The dashing merc plowed straight into the armor clad hostile, tackling him to the ground. Pal landed on top and smashed the butt of his pistol into the Imp’s helmet, breaking the glass visor and probably causing a concussion. The commotion caught the attention of the other three soldiers in the room — three soldiers he was not expecting to be here — and they quickly drew their weapons.

Too slow. Pal raised his DL-44 and fired off two quick rounds, taking down the closest with shots placed perfectly center mass. He then rolled behind an overturned table for cover as they returned fire, accidentally finishing off their own dazed colleague in the chaos. It didn’t take them long to adjust, and the only thing separating Pal from certain death was a thin layer of durasteel now covered in carbon scoring.

Time to get creative. Pal pressed his feet against the wall and activated his Star Grinder boots, launching himself and the metal table along the floor across the room. CRASH! The Imperial soldier grunted before slumping over, now pinned against the opposite wall with the breath knocked out of him. Without hesitating, Pal extended his right arm straight out to his side and squeezed the trigger. Bingo. A perfectly placed blaster bolt to the head. Pal then popped up, turned, and finished off the trapped Imp behind him before he could regain his composure.

He was the last man standing. And the worst part? Kat probably missed the entire awesome show!

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Bastila Sal-Soren | Dark Forces (Garden Obj)​

The fire crackled endlessly, a constant roar that almost swallowed the shrieks of the wounded. Yet Lorn heard everything: the snap of each blaster bolt, the ragged breaths beside him, and the faint cries of Atrisian civilians from the burning pavilion. Smoke burned his lungs with every inhale, acrid and heavy, clinging to his skin until he tasted ash. His golden blade carved bright arcs through the haze, each swing precise, deliberate. While Bastila's youth propelled her in swift flourishes, Lorn's movements were heavier, the kind of strikes that shattered enemy lines and created vital space.

They moved as a single unit. A stormtrooper surged from the hedge to Lorn's left, vibroblade raised, but Bastila was there instantly. Another trooper raised his rifle, muzzle spitting fire, but the bolts skittered harmlessly against the blur of Bastila's saber, each deflection sharp and purposeful. Lorn used her cover to close the gap, his saber sweeping in a low, brutal arc that sheared the weapon in half and forced the man to his knees.

For a brief, impossible moment, they were unstoppable: the old warhound and the young blade. Smoke and fire bent around them as though the Force itself had woven their motions together.

Then Bastila's voice cut through the din, urgent and commanding, even as grief trembled at the edges of her strength.

He stopped mid-stride, his saber dripping light across the scorched gravel. His chest rose and fell in deep, ragged breaths, and for an instant his face tightened under the weight of the choice she asked him to make. His instincts screamed to refuse, to stay. He could not, would not abandon her, not here, not now. Shiraya knew Briana would cut him down herself if he left her younger sister in the teeth of the storm.

Yet, above even that loyalty, he felt the truth in the Force. The pain rippling from the pavilion was sharper now, too close, too raw. The civilians didn't have minutes; they had seconds. The agony of their fear felt like knives against his ribs, and he knew if he hesitated, no one would be left to save.

His jaw tightened. He turned back to Bastila. She stood with her blade raised, violet fire glinting in the smoke, her eyes fierce despite the grief trembling behind them. She had chosen her place in this fight and was no longer fragile.

Lorn reached out, his gloved hand finding her shoulder with a firm, grounding grip. His golden blade hummed steadily at his side, casting both their faces in warm light. "Then hold them," he said, his voice low but edged with steel. "And get to me as quickly as you can. Don't make me tell Briana I left you too long."

For the first time in hours, a flicker of warmth ghosted his expression: a trust, a plea, and a soldier's promise all in one. He gave her shoulder one final squeeze, then turned.

And ran. His boots pounded across the irrigation channel. The heat of the fires rose in waves, baking his skin beneath his armor, but he pressed on, every stride pulling him closer to the pavilion, now more ruin than refuge. The screams from inside clawed at him, raw and desperate, nearly buckling his knees with their force in the current of the Force. He clenched his jaw and pushed forward.

Above him, the shadow of the Death Star loomed, vast and merciless, smothering the stars. Lorn's gaze caught it again for a single heartbeat, bile rising in his throat at the dread it radiated. A wound in the sky, a herald of annihilation. His chest tightened, yet he dragged his eyes back down to the world that still burned, to the lives that could still be saved.

Collapsed beams barred his way. Charred wood and durasteel groaned as the pavilion buckled under the fire's weight. Lorn planted his feet, golden blade still humming in one hand as he raised the other. He closed his eyes for a breath, feeling the agony around him: the screaming civilians, the suffocating smoke. He absorbed it, letting it hone his will. The Force surged through his limbs, and with a sharp gesture, the smoldering timbers wrenched upward. Burning wood cracked and screeched as it tore free, splintering against the stone as he flung it aside.

The path was not clear yet. But it would be.

Spoiler

Bastila and Lorn move to pavilion.
Both fight group of troopers.
Bastila and Lorn split.
Lorn arrives at pavilion and starts tearing away at the wreckage to get in.

 

[Veno]

"You will be," grumbled Veno after a passing moment of quiet.

He slid the vibrodagger into the wrist-sheath and peered out the shattered front viewport, the chill sweeping in. "Pull that chit again and I either kill you myself or make sure you end back up in an Imperial pen." he turned back to her, his voice rising. "So play nice!"

Turning to their Sith master, Veno said, "Well... what are your orders now?"

Kordé - Subject 1503

 

[Vizion Trozky]

TEMPLE OF HEALING
CITY of JAR'KAI ☛ ATRISIA
​

A TRIBUTE TO THE CHALLENGERS​

His training and the path he had walked rarely lead Vizion Trozky to be in the thick of a battlefield, but that was what the city of Jar’kai had quickly become within a matter of minutes as the alarm was sounded, pulling him from the last of his preparations: a meditation he often undertook. The city had erupted in a fervour to contend with the invaders, and he felt the surge of energy in parallel with the uptick in noise: the raucous symphony of conflict.

Vizion emerged from that state, and rose to join the others as Kyric spoke of what he intended to do alongside the Lightsworn Arkanian, before departing their company in a cloud of haste. The Brentaalan walked up slowly, senses still receding from that meditative exploration, while Jand spoke next of his plans, and a comm sparked with a voice he hadn’t heard since that late night gathering on Atrisia, not so long ago.

The galaxy moved quickly these days, it seemed.

He fell into place amongst the other Jedi emerging from the Temple of Healing just as Briana began to speak, disseminating quickly-formed orders to which he nodded when his name was spoken, while she proceeded to send Aiden, Lorn, and Bastila to other positions throughout Jar’Kai.

She was in her element, here. When Briana gave the command to head out, he stepped up between her and Jand.

“With you,” he spoke, echoing Lossa, though his hilts didn’t depart their places on his belt, just yet — he preferred to be moving, first. “Let’s get to it.”

Aiden Porte • Bastila Sal-Soren • Briana Sal-Soren • Dark Forces • Darth Bellum • Jand Talo
Ko Vuto • Kylass Starhaven • Kyric • Lorn Reingard • Lossa Aureus • Zark San Tekka​

 

[Rolin Voss]

1ST LIEUTENANT VOSS
10th Sector Armada
2nd Armor Boxer Company
Cougar Tanks
Commander, "Locals Only"
BOXER COMPANY STATUS:
"Free Buffet"
"Cheap Beer"
"Shower Beers"
"Grammar Haterers"
"Boombox" KIA

PUSH FORWARD​

The bridge came into view, a plethora of Imperial troops raining fire on the Defenders. He turned his head just in time to watch Boombox, one of the newer tanks in his company, get hit directly by rocket fire. It wasn't dead- but it was disabled. Rolin turned his head away as the crew scrambled to put out the fires, and hopefully escape the tank alive.

Unfortunately, they could not stop and help their brothers in arms. They were dead in the water, and the tanks were needed to defend the city. He watched through the viewport as the Imperials swarmed the tank. A stormtrooper climbed aboard, and was met with a blaster bolt to the face from the Commander's sidearm.

Rolin turned his coax as they sped towards their objective. Boombox was already dead, he knew that. They knew that. The Imperials, however, did not. Stormtroopers moved to engage the tank crew, and were met with a fury of fire. He watched the tank get smaller and smaller and through the haze, lost sight of them. The exchange of gunfire was still, at least, hopeful for their survival. Or perhaps, their final stand. His driver tapped him on the knee.

"Sir, we're almost to the Bridge." His driver said, shaking Rolin out of his temporary trance.

Rolin took a deep breath. They were fighting onward- and the tanks were coming into flank the enemy on the bridge. The tanks rumbled the streets, and Boxer company had finally arrived to the fight at the bridge. Their opening salvo was deafening in the tightly-packed buildings. He lined his tanks up in a staggered formation, and each gun was trained on the advancing enemy. Their axis of advance was more or less caught between the Defenders and his newly-established flanking and firing position. He'd have to reposition to move on the enemy, but for now, their formation was able to wreak havoc on the flanks of the Imperial advance.

"…still moving repeat still moving hit it again"

"…capacitors cycling too slow we need another cell"

"…driver swing the hull swing the hull right side walker's bearing down"

"…direct hit no penetration legs legs shoot the legs"​

"…stormtroopers in the trenches close range close range coax them coax them"​

The local radio, perhaps not monitored by everyone, between the tanks was chaos. They were engaging the enemy, advancing as they were, with rapid efficiency. However, that may not be enough. Rolin turned his coax, a heavy string of blaster fire tearing through a squad of Stormtroopers. He breathed heavy, sweat pouring down his face inside the tank.

"GUNNER, INFANTRY IN THE OPEN, FIRE TWO!"

"ONE AWAY!"

"TWO AWAY!"

"THREE AWAY!"
​

And on and on it went, a cascade of death and fire. But with the Imperial onslaught in full effect, Boxer Company may have only delayed the enemy- if at all.

 

[Jand Talo]

TEMPLE OF HEALING - WALL BREACH | ASTRISIA​

The artillery fire was a thunderous impact that rattled the surrounding area, as a portion of the protective wall to the east of the Healing Temple was hit with a powerful volley of destructive ordinance, leaving an opening for enemy forces to utilize. After separating from Sal-Soren and Reingard, the Nagai had sought to reinforce the bridge, to assist Corin... yet, that seemed unnecessary, as the true threat had become the breach nearby.

It would be through that hole in the wall that the enemy would pour in.

Nonetheless, Jand was close enough that he was rattled by the salvos, yet behind enough building cover as to avoid damage. Some of the debris flew hundreds of feet into the air, not to mention the booms of displaced air, and the cracking of foundations and streets. War was hell; it was everything the Jedi stood against, but it had become something they were good at.

" Zark San Tekka , the enemy have breached the eastern wall of the Healing Temple district," Jand called through the room, even as he looked up at the whipping snow and sleet, carried on blistering winds. It had helped cover the attack preparation. "I am moving to hold the defensive line. If the shielding array comes under direct attack, call, and I will reinforce."

Jand switched the comm, finding another frequency, even as he started to sprint toward the blown-out structure; his eyes squinted through the dust and smoke, as he began to channel the Force to pierce through the haze, to see what might be ahead.

" Corin Kaze , I am unable to reach the bridge. The enemy has breached the Healing Temple wall," the Nagai said, as he rounded another street and made right for the gap in defenses. "If you are able, fall back to this position, where we can hold this line."

There had also been an Armored group that had taken position at the bridge, western side. Jand activated his comm a third time, as he sought out their commander:

"Lieutenant Rolin Voss , this is Jedi Knight Jand Talo. There has been a breach in the Healing Temple district walls to your north," the Nagai came face-to-face with the opening and his eyes narrowed. "Requesting supportive fire to the east of the breach, to impact and stall enemy forces pushing through the opening. Hit them hard so I can finish them off if they get through."

Jand held his lightsaber in front of him and twisted the handle; the weapon hilt split in two, as he activated the second portion with another blue blade in his hand. He would use the form of Jar'Kai in the city of Jar'Kai - the irony not lost on him. Were he someone else, he might have chuckled. Still, there were clearly threats beyond the city's awareness that remained in place, which had to be dealt with:

" Zark San Tekka , are there any starfighter elements that can seek out the artillery beyond our reach? Another wall breach will do us no good. If you could alert friendly forces to reinforce if available, as I am now engaging the enemy - may the Force be with you."

There was one thing left to do, as Jand began to run at the downed portion of wall. He exhaled and began to weave his blades as blasterfire spat through the snowy air, deflecting and redirecting with honed precision; no matter what came through the hole, he would hold the line, even if it cost him everything...

Zark San Tekka | Corin Kaze | Rolin Voss | Michael Barran
St. Thomas Barran​

 

[Subject 1503]

ATRISIA, CORE WORLDS


Veno - Kordé
​

Their master was not looming in the hold of the shuttle as he had been for most of the unfortunate descent to the planet. Instead, a crackling holo-visage of his form flickered and broke apart over the form of a droid. It had meant to keep an eye on the two of his agents as they made to do his bidding, but the crash-landing that had barely managed to not be fatal for the two in the cockpit had rattled it about, leaving a number of core systems damaged. Through the connection to the droid that was steadily fading, the Ashwalker could hear Veno's query, at the very least, he was able to make his instruction known.

"Find transportation off-world, neither of you are of use to me dead." The message came through with a degree of crackling from the busted vocoder on the droid, who utilised the last of its power to make the instruction known before another damaged core system cracked and spluttered within its chassis, and the lights dissipated from the droid's eyes, the holo-visage disappearing entirely to leave it a non-functional husk of metal.

While he would have preferred to keep utilising the droid for an eye-on-the-ground, he had determined he'd learn enough regarding the competence of his two chosen servants if they managed to survive and return to him. They would revel in the conflict on the ground, but his battle was elsewhere. The urge had been strong to charge into the fray, to immerse himself in furious violence, but there was violence to be found elsewhere, he could sense it.

Aboard the Death Star, where the Ashwalker waited in truth, he immersed himself in it, the anger, the fear, the death, the echoes of the ritual that continued elsewhere on the station. All of it fed him, and it would feed the hate he directed against whoever found him...

Perhaps, the two that had crash-landed on Atrisia proper would still feel the looming presence of their overlord, like an overbearing and uncomfortable specter hanging over them. Force-sensitive or not, there were ways to bolster one's allies through the force even over great distance, and he allowed his meditation on conflict to flow down and into them, perhaps it would grant them some level of assistance in the warzone they were treading into.

​