Minutes before imperial forces arrive
Laphisto had never been one for diplomacy at least, not to the degree that
Diarch Reign
was. His talents lay elsewhere, and so he had chosen to remain aboard the
Tracyn rather than accompany the Diarch onto the Super Star Destroyer. It was a calculated decision: if the talks soured, someone had to be in position to coordinate the Diarchy's forces, or, in the worst-case scenario, to cut their losses and rally the entire Order into a war against the Galactic Alliance to rescue their leader. In his mind, it was the perfect contingency.
The hours dragged on as negotiations played out far from his reach. Eventually, Laphisto found himself wandering into the ship's mess hall, armor plates clinking softly with every step. He carried himself with the calm of a man accustomed to waiting, though his mind never truly stilled. Always calculating. Always preparing for the next storm.
He took a tray and collected what passed for a mealan assortment of meats whose origins he didn't bother questioning. Settling into one of the long tables, he let his shoulders rest against the bench, eyes briefly distant as the faint vibration of the
Tracyn's reactor hummed through the deck plating beneath his feet. For a rare moment, he allowed himself to believe this might be just another quiet evening on standby duty.
That illusion shattered in an instant.The ship's lighting flickered once, then bathed the deck in crimson.
Sirens howled as emergency strobes pulsed across the walls, painting the mess hall in a frantic rhythm of blood-red flashes. Forks clattered against trays, voices raised in alarm, and the scent of hot food turned acrid under the sudden atmosphere of dread. Then the Admiral's voice thundered across the shipwide intercom, sharp and unyielding, cutting through the confusion like a blade.
"
All hands to battle stations. All hands to battle stations. This is not a drill." Almost immediately the mess hall emptied. Soldiers dropped their trays and bolted for the exits. Even the cooks were on the move, pushing past each other to get to their posts. The alarms kept wailing, red lights flashing across the bulkheads.
Laphisto perked his ear, wincing at the noise. He shoved off the bench, his tray crashing to the floor as he rushed out into the corridor. His commlink kicked on mid-stride, voices breaking through. "
Enemy fleet just entered the system," the Admiral's voice came over first. "
Imperial cruisers and destroyers. and a massive space station. Drop pods already breaking atmosphere." Tarain followed a second later. "
Confirmed. Pods are scattering across Artisia." A low growl slipped out as Laphisto picked up speed. "
Tarain,
prep your Sword. I want every squad in their gunships and dropping planet-side before I hit the hangar."
"
Acknowledged," Tarain replied without hesitation. The ship's decks were alive with movement. Crews sprinted to armories, mechanics shouted over the alarms, squads moved in packs down the main halls. The closer he got to the hangar, the louder it became engines roaring to life, metal boots hammering the deck, orders thrown over the noise.
By the time he stepped through the blast doors, the hangar was a storm. Gunships powered up one after another. Soldiers rushed up the ramps, loading gear and locking down armor. Tarain's Sword was already forming up, sergeants shouting calls, squads piling into their transports. Tarain himself was in the middle of it, giving orders without breaking stride.Laphisto's voice cut through the hanger . "
Move it! I want birds in the air now!" He didn't stop moving, cutting across the hangar straight for the lead gunship.
[/center]Crator Fangs. 1st Company
Cora
[/center]
Laphisto's grip tightened around the overhead rail as the
LAHT gunship bucked on entry. The interior rattled with every jolt of turbulence, steel hull groaning against the strain of re-entry. He realized too late that his helmet was still sitting in the mess hall, but there was no time to turn back. He would go without.
The gunship punched through the cloud layer, engines howling. Red drop-lights pulsed over the troop bay, casting every soldier in sharp silhouette. Packs, rifles, and heavy kit shifted with each shudder, but no one moved except to tighten their hold. The Crater Fangs sat in silence visors down, weapons checked, eyes fixed forward. Every man and woman in the bay knew their role. Laphisto slammed his fist against the gunship's door panel, keying his communicator. His voice cut across every transport in Tarain's Sword.
"
All companies, listen up. Artisia is under full assault. Alliance reports confirm Imperial legions massed at the wall. Their objective is the city. Ours is to hold them back. Deny them a breach at all costs."The projection systems activated across each gunship. Squad leaders dropped to one knee, hard-lined transmitters flaring to life, and Laphisto's image appeared before every company. He stood tall in the shifting red glow, armor plates reflecting the emergency lights, voice carrying with absolute clarity.
"
There is no fallback. You hold the line, or the city falls. The enemy is committed, and so are we. Crater Fangs, you are on point. We will be first boots on the ground. You set the line. You make them bleed for every meter." The words were met with nothing but silence and readiness. No chatter. No questions. Soldiers adjusted grips, tightened harnesses, and locked weapons into place. A final round of checks moved down the rows: magazines slapped, grenades clipped, power cells verified. The only sound was the deep roar of engines and the metallic rattle of equipment under stress.
Around him, squads finished their checks in silence. Magazines slapped into place. Blades and sidearms locked down. Grenades clipped tight. Soldiers braced for the inevitable impact.The gunship bucked hard as it punched through a storm front, lightning flashing outside the narrow viewports. The drop-lights flicked to amber. Ten seconds. Laphisto's image lingered a moment longer before continuing.
Laphisto's image snapped up across every transport. Red strobes cut the troop bays into hard lines. He didn't waste words."
Captain Varn. You're taking your Ash Dogs and hitting the main city. Reports state portals have begun to open in the city. Civilians are being targeted and a few drop ships made it through the city's defenses. Find and kill all Imperial forces. Protect the civilians and lock down those portals. When you find one, tag it. Set up an MG nest on the approaches and ensure no one gets out of that thing alive. If you have to throw a thermal through every five minutes, do so."He jabbed the holo reticle at the expansion wards until the sector blinked.
Laphisto jabbed the holo at the bridge and spoke flat. "
Storm Vultures you're taking the Night Claws' main walkers along with your own. Touch down on both bridgeheads, emplace heavy point defenses, and set up FOBs on each side of the bridge. Night Claws wont be able to make use of them, those walkers ride with the Vultures." Laphisto pulled the map wider, dragging the projection to the rear of
Darth Bellum
's forces. His voice cut flat and clipped over the channel."
Night Claws. You're hot-dropping behind enemy lines. Doing what you do best."
He paused, looking up at the soldiers packed into the gunship with him. Their eyes locked on him through the red wash of the drop lights. He let out a short, hard sigh before turning back to the holo "
Let's show the Empire and the galaxy the might of the Lilaste Order." The gunship bay thundered with a chorus of
uhh-rahs, hard and guttural, the sound rolling through the compartment like incoming fire. Laphisto cut the commlink. Orders were set.
The gunship jolted as it leveled out, engines howling against the turbulence. The side doors slammed open and a blast of hot air and acrid smoke tore through the compartment. Door gunners yanked the clamps free on their LO-52Rs, swinging the heavy barrels downrange, the weapons already thundering in short test bursts.
The city wall came up fast, a sheer line of stone and duracrete streaked with smoke and tracer fire. Laphisto didn't hesitate he leapt first, boots hitting the battlement with a jarring thud, sparks kicking off the edge. The rest of the Crater Fangs followed in quick succession, armor clattering as they spilled across the top of the wall and fanned out into firing positions like they'd drilled a hundred times before.
His eyes swept the line, caught sight of
Cora
. He gave her a sharp nod, then turned to the chaos unfolding below. "
Man those guns!" His voice cut through the roar. "
Fire!" He unslung his rifle, dropped to the edge, and shouldered it against the stone. The first slug cracked away, echoing down into the valley of soldiers below then another, then another, until the air around him was alive with muzzle flashes.
The wall erupted. LO-20s rattled in violent bursts, LO-27Rs thundered heavy suppression, and the mounted LO-52Rs roared, their barrels spitting streams of slugs that carved into the packed enemy formations. The sound was deafening a rolling, metallic thunder that swallowed everything else. Hot brass poured across the battlements, bouncing underfoot as smoke and cordite stung the air. the four gunships that dropped off the crator fangs hovored nearby the heavy gunners ripping .50 cal slugs down range
[TLDR [ laphisto lands with the crator fangs after designating other companies to tasks. the crator fangs then start firing on the 13th legion from above.]
Storm Vultures 2nd Company
Players Nearby
Corin Kaze
Rolin Voss
As the Lilaste Order forces dropped into the city proper, several
LAET/C gunships peeled away from the main column. Their cargo clamps released in sequence, and the air shuddered as heavy walkers slammed down on the far side of the bridge near the expansion wards. Dust and rubble kicked up around the landing zone as repulsors flared.
A second flight dropped hard into the city center, deploying walkers in the middle of the broad avenue between the Honeycomb and the Temple of Healing. Their formation locked into a half-circle, plating down and stabilizers digging into the stone roadway. The position would serve as a makeshift EVAC point for wounded and civilians.
Four
AT-AE MKIII walkers lowered into place, hydraulic legs hissing as they braced. Their side bays split open, dropping a full detachment of
AT-ASMKII light walkers that thundered down the ramps and sprinted into the city streets. Engines whined, weapons locked, and the light walkers disappeared into smoke and fire, pushing toward the fight.
In the command net, a friendly ping cut across
Rolin Voss
's IFF. A voice crackled through, calm and clipped under the static:
"
Galactic Alliance armor, this is Hammer One, Lilaste Order Light Walker Company. Looks like you could use some backup. We're en route to your position. We'll provide escort and keep those boots off your tail while you send them to hell. How copy?"
Almost immediately, another broadcast rode the GA infantry channels "
Galactic Alliance ground forces, this is Captain Seris Toval, Lilaste Order Armored Company. We have artillery in place and standing by. If you're in need of heavy ordnance, call it in. We'll put steel on target danger close if we have to."
[
Kylass Starhaven
Kyric
Junko Ike
Ronhar Tane
artellery is avaliable to support GA ground forces and allies.
Vulpesen
The holoprojection cut and the bay went quiet for a beat. Then Captain Varn stood up, LO-27R racked open in a single practiced motion, and he keyed the company channel. His voice came through flat, steel-edged. "
All right, Dogs listen up, because I'm only saying this once." Heads snapped up. Packs shifted. Fingers found triggers.
"
We're the urban warfare specialists. We get dirty in close quarters. Cinder Maw you land northeast, by the Garden Cities. Reports of enemy activity there. Go in hard and give 'em hell.
Coal Line you're pushing for the Spire. That shield generator goes down, this whole op goes FUBAR. Keep that thing live at all costs.
Scorch Fang theater district. Civilians are under fire. Show the Empire there's no honor in killing the unarmed. Make it count Molten Crest Honeycomb district. Storm Vultures reported civilians moving toward the Temple of Healing. Get groundside and escort them out. Clear paths, move them to the evac point. No shortcuts."
Varn's smile was a bare, dangerous thing. "
You have your orders. Fail them and you will answer to me" Cinder Maw's lieutenant called, "
Copy, Captain. Garden Cities inbound." Scorch Fang's crew answered with a curt, angry yes. Molten Crest confirmed the evac corridor and shifted their load for escort duty. Varn let the channel hang on the confirmations like a gavel. "
Good. Remember your roles. Close, fast, and dirty. Watch your corners. Protect the civilians if they're there. If the enemy shows teeth, rip it out."
[ going for
Dark Forces
objective 1]
The Ash Dogs split as the gunships leveled from planetary descent. Cinder Maw peeled off in four LAHTs thirty-six troopers per ship,adorned in
LO-58A armor jumped from the gunship repolsor engines whiring in there armor as they landed and pressed the assault
One LAHT dropped to rooftop height over the burning church and held station. The door gunner slapped the slide on his
LO-52R and went to work, a hard stream of .50-cal slugs tearing into the Imperial troopers massed at the gate and around the mortar tubes. Brass skittered across the deck; tracer stitched the courtyard and pinned helmets to dirt. the first element pushed. Troopers stepped into the slipstream and fell on repulsors, packs hissing as they bled speed for a controlled descent onto the church plaza. They hit and fanned left and right, rifles up.
The other three LAHTs offloaded one to two blocks out side streets, rooftops, a tram stop dumping squads in parallel. Repulsor descents in waves, clean and fast. As soon as boots hit, those elements started in, moving on converging vectors toward the church: two teams pressing from the east through hedgerows, another cutting west along the promenade, the last pushing up the centerline under the gunship's cover.
The LO-52R overhead kept the mortar crews' heads down while the ground teams closed. Slugthrowers barked as they advanced
LO-20Ds in short, sharp bursts;
LO-27Rs laying steady suppression through the trees; a few compact LO-52Rs sweeping the choke points.
[Going for dark forces objective 3]
Scorch Fang hit the ground and moved quiet. Squads slipped between alleys and broken storefronts, helmets low, rifles up. They closed on the Theater District in tight bounds no chatter, only clipped hand signals and the soft clack of gear. Through a gap in the ruins they spotted the imperial forces plates crouched outside the theater, canisters in hand, green haze already pushing at the windows. Civilians screamed inside. The commander held his fist up and dropped it once. "
Hold until my mark."
Teams spread into firing lanes and leveled. The plan was simple: trap the troopers in crossfire and stop any more gas from getting inside. One of the stormtroopers lobbed a canister. It burst open on the pavement, a low, sick smell rolling toward the doors. The commander fired his rifle once. That crack was the cue. The entire company began to open fire a mixture of 30-06 and .45ACP slugs began to bark out.
LO-27s laid long, heavy rounds into clustered positions. LO-20s alternated between rifle and SMG modes 30-06 for aimed suppression, .45ACP in short bursts to cut movement through the smoke. Fire overlapped from every angle, tracer and slug cracking through the haze. The troopers went down trying to move; some never made it behind cover. Brass rained on the pavement, and the plaza filled with the hard, mechanical sound of disciplined killing.
[Units heading for
Shan
and
Franceline Dawer
's location ]
Molten Crest touched down in the dust outside the Storm Vultures' landing zone, engines still whining as eight AT-AS MKII walkers thundered past and into the city streets. The company fanned out in disciplined lines, weapons tight to shoulders, scanning each ruin and corner as they pushed forward.
Within blocks they hit the gathering pointhundreds of civilians pressed into the open, their nerves raw, fear etched in every movement. Lilaste soldiers broke from formation, spreading wide and fast to establish a hard perimeter. They shepherded civilians inward with firm, steady gestures, keeping the lines tight and clear.
Captain's orders carried over the comm, and a path opened through the cordon. Lieutenant Varis Soltren pushed forward at a jog, rifle balanced across his chest, armor scarred but serviceable in the half-light. He closed the distance to the one figure the civilians clearly looked toward for guidance.
"
Master Jedi," he called as he came up, voice clipped but steady, "
Lieutenant Varis Soltren of the Ash Dogs, Lilaste Order." He planted his boots firm, snapping his head in a short nod of respect before continuing. "
We've got a forward operating base set up to the north, just before the bridge. Orders are to pull you and your people back there for immediate evacuation." Behind him, the Ash Dogs held their perimeter without falter rifles trained, optics scanning, walkers moving in a protective crescent. The line was solid, a wall of steel and discipline braced against whatever the city might throw next.
TLDR
Captain Varn's Orders: Ash Dogs split into four companies with distinct objectives.
- Cinder Maw: Assault Imperial positions near the Garden Cities.
- Coal Line: Defend the Spire's shield generator.
- Scorch Fang: Secure the Theater District and protect civilians from gas attacks.
- Molten Crest: Evacuate civilians from the honeycomb to the FOB.
"
Alright listen up." The captain's voice cut the hum of the engines, flat and cold. "
We're doing a hot drop. Outside the city walls. Target is Imperial leadership and command nodes." Unlike the other companies that bled in close to the urban perimeter, Night Claws leveled out hard at fifteen kilometers well above the cloud layer. The bay doors yawed open and the hull exposed a white sheet of cloud below, the city a smear beneath it. The sudden air rush made helmets clack and webbing sing.
"
When you see the green light, that's your cue to jump," the captain continued, counting off the sequence like a metronome. "
Micro-thrusters on at four hundred meters no sooner, no later. Slow your terminal velocity. Repulsor lifts at one hundred fifty meters. Maintain formation on descent. Keep noise discipline. Keep your heads down."
He drove the mission home in a single hard line. "
We're on decapitation duty. Priority one: identify and remove command elements. If you find someone in command, take them out. If someone attempts to step into their role, remove them as well. Destabilize their rear. Give the High Commander the edge he needs."
He jabbed a fingertip at the map, where a blue dot marked their insertion zone and another far out marked the walker staging point. "
Our AT-AS MKII walkers are staged further out from the drop. At full speed they'll take thirty minutes to reach our location. That buys you zero time. Make every shot count. Disable comms, knives to throats if you have to leave the battlefield in chaos, not structure."
Hands moved without shouting. Breachers checked canisters. Techs ran last-cycle checks on thruster valves. Medics clipped auto-injectors to belts. Every man and woman in the bay ran the sequence in their head while the gunship cut across the sky.
The green light winked on. Like clockwork the Night Claws stepped up to the rim and went. Repulsor packs screamed to life, micro-thrusters spat, the world rushing up to meet them in a controlled fall. Below, the city waited and Night Claws fell into it, a hard, surgical blade aimed at the heart of the enemy.
Darth Bellum
[ units dropped behind the legion forces say about 800-2km for long range interference with possible closer engagements]
Wymar
