Annihilation The Imperial March

Brief though the flashback was, the thought it conjured was enough to draw him a few short parsecs away from the snow-topped idylls of Atrisia; pulling the Khan's mind back in time, back to a decades-long thorn in Mawsworn sides, back to that one rainy night on Empress Teta. Transported from the cobblestone streets of Jar'Kai, all the way back the last years of the Second Hyperspace War, right there on that temperate coast on the outskirts of Cinnegar, to the very night he suffered defeat against Shinzou's relative. Thus the Bloodhound was forced to relive a long, torturous ordeal, and all within the blink of a left eye, and all just in time to return to the fight at hand, switching back from Ishida to Shinzou - just as the toothpick reached within inches of his face.

Not many memories resided with such lasting, tar-like persistence in Barran's mind, or at least, not recollections of that, near-second death nature, and almost never weighing that heavily on the soul. But this was surely different, and carried it's due weight of significance, especially if Ishida was the only opponent ever to outmatch the Bloodhound in single combat, and to such an extreme that the disparity in prowess was made clear from the offset. An experience from which (and from which he had also taken over a year to recover physically) the one-eyed Woad had learned a wealth of insight, as tapping into the heights of power, skill and strategy alike had proven vital, priceless in value.

Even though Barran had only known such ascension for a fleet few moments that night, even though it cost every last remaining morsel of self-confidence to achieve it, the Khan's trajectory to power was forever changed by that one, tiny window of humbling revelation. After all, many lesser paths could have been walked without that near-death outcome to spur the Bloodhound's ambitions, and with them, the same ultimate, irrevocable fate could have befallen the Bloodhound; and all from lives continued without ever encountering the little Atrisian thunderbolt, but one severely-optimistic gamble gave him all the required aspiration for something greater, all the inspiration he could have needed to covet eternal, ubiquitous renown.

To be remembered forevermore as the era's greatest swordsman.

[OOC Note - Nothing to contest for this Tommy part, just a nice flashback interlude to explore a few tension-points of yesteryear that found their way through the timeskip alongside us. Drawing deep relevance to the opening of a second Barran/Ashina scorecard. Main OOC purpose here is to keep the warposting parts flowing without interrupting the single-combat narrative.]

AUXILIA
V

BATTLEFRONT: G1, MIRAI JAR'KAI,
ASTRISIA, GALACTIC CORE TERRITORIES (903 ABY)

<"Copy that.... Remember, a forward push is just the first step - Batu out!">

'Oh, come on!'

After having their right flank's offensive halted and briefly pushed back, and with everything the defenders had to throw their way, the city's counteroffensive efforts would continue for a time, but the Keshigs of 2nd Battalion had ground such efforts to a halt, though very much in an unfavourable position by the time self-preservation kicked in across the other end of the grey zone. Given reason then to promptly coordinate with local artillery batteries, the GADF would make timed salvos on their own last-known positions, fully-intending to avoid danger-close conditions in the effort to hold the ground they had just regained, gaining the breathing-room they needed to stabilise their battle-lines without interruption.

Making good use of their time under cover of delayed bombardment, as those same salvos would eventually creep forward, sweeping eastward until the accuracy began to widen the shelling-dispersals beyond their effective saturation range and groupings alike. In the way of alleviation, this small blessing would not offer the 2nd Battalion much to work with, but it would be enough for the Mawsworn to prepare their own means of surviving the next attack, their main lifeline against the next wave of local sallying attempts. Thus Keshig-Leader was wise in hearing, and obeying that voice in his ear, prompting Uun to have IEDs planted sporadically across the many rubble-piles and deserted buildings across the grey zone, along with a slew of autonomous sentry-guns and traps of every crude sort that sprang to mind.

Not that such inconveniences would ever stop the locals from persisting.

Even whilst under fire from defenders deploying out of the Temple of Healing, the Zabrak's rueful laughter was loud enough to be heard down the line, heard clearly enough that even his second-in-command had caught it ringing in his ears. It was a difficult pill to swallow for some, as unlike Uun, Arriochus had spent most of his life around the same nomadic, rogueish Mawsworn the Zabrak himself was still learning to appreciate at the time, a severe contrast of legitimacy in the eyes of those who were, in turn, still learning to adjust under Glare's command. Handy though he was in hard-fought offensives, and though they would grin and bear with the majority of the issues that sprang up, (especially through issues of cultural concern) nothing would stop them from speaking out on behalf of a boy they trusted far more than the former-mercenary.

'The lad thinks we can still feign retreat.... The nerve of that belief, though!'
'At least the boy can keep his mind on-task! Get your head in the fething game, Ulusar! WE NEED ORDERS!!!!'

The first response was silent, wide-eyed, but to necky extremes of incredulity, but when the Zabrak furrowed his brow-tissue and narrowed his eyelids, his Tiantangan subordinate would smile in the realisation that his Keshig-Leader was finally back to his usual, tunnel-focused self. The following, balanced response, however, would even encourage Arrutar to believe the right flank still had a chance of surviving this clash with their Atrisian opposition, and when Uun finally shot back,'Oh, well if thats the case, then bring up all our shoulder-mount launchers, all our rotary cannons, and a kark-ton of ammunition for both.... How's your cardio?', the Zabrak's bearded aide would humbly nod in acquiescence to the plan's early foundations.

'Never been better, Ulusar.... Consider it done.'
'Thanks, Arrutar. I'll have a strat ready by the time you get back.'

As the Tiantangan sprinted off westward, the right-flank was still catching stray shells across the entire northern salient, but then, it seemed as though a miracle had granted them a short lull, a small reprieve from the onslaught, but even a soldier of fortune could tell such serenities were false. The home-field contingent were ready to resume their counteroffensive, and the only thing that was holding them back by then was the final order, their permission to proceed once and for all, carrying all the trappings of all-or-nothing endeavour in their wake. Yet none could predict the way it would play out after the silence, none could foretell exactly how every circumstance would unfold, but when Breaker finally patched through, the first domino would fall as fate intended.

The first turn of events that would give way to the Zabrak's ultimate fight for survival.

<"Glare, its Breaker! Order your men to hold fire, War Skiffs approaching the northern salient.">
<"Will do, but how are they getting here?">
<"Taking the grey zone circuit back to the breach, spraying everything on it's wrong side.">
<"Taking the gr-Pfffft! Fine! Anyways, all insanities aside. Good luck out there, Brother.">
<"Likewise.... Breaker - out!">

'ALL UNITS, HOLD YOUR FIRE!!!! WE GOT WAR SKIFFS ON THE MOVE!!!!', Glare then roared to the streets around him, making sure to remember whilst his head was still leaning out the nearest blown out window, promptly obeying the earnest instructions of his closest peer as he anticipated the heated passing of the brigade's mobile element. Fortunately for the Zabrak, though, he would not need to wait for long, hearing aggressive firepower exchanges approaching long before the collective howls of their repulsorlift engines, increasing in a crescendo of mayhem as their long column approached ever-nearer to the northern salient with every passing second.

Within moments, the first vehicles in the column were visible on the horizon, slipping past like shadows in the snow and sooty mist, though their howling engines (by then shifting gears into higher-pitched propulsion screams) left no illusion in the echoes they left to the Skiff-crews driving with them. Giving rise to a sudden, though-unmistakable shiver of amazement, that which sent goosebumps across his skin, bringing out a wide canopy of tiny, porous pimples, an unavoidable outbreak from his wrists to the top of his head. It was in this moment that Glare began to understand the glory of Mawsworn combat, sensing the same wonder his new compatriots felt when faced with wonders of the sort, but just as the Keshig-Leader was on the verge of letting his mind contextualize the joy he was feeling, every little blessing suddenly warped and and vanished before his very eyes.

[wooooOOOOSH]
[BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM]
[THUD-THUD - THUD THUD-THUD THUD]

'NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! WHAT WERE THEY THIIIIINKIIIIING?!?!'

A majority of the wide, well-armed Skiff flotilla had passed by (mostly-) uneventfully, but by the time two-thirds of their number had slipped past, and around the northern salient, life's hardest lesson would be learned when unidentified assailants sprung their unexpected, intercepting trap. Consequently cutting off the latter third from the majority, driving a deep, armoured wedge between them, and with no orders to turn back and relieve them, the Skiffs they left behind would suffer the wrath of assailants still unknown to the Khanate contingents on the ground that day. Or at least, the assailants would only remain an unknown factor until one of the Zabrak's sentries spotted a specific, and truly recognisable insignia, and when that sentry exclaimed,'Ulusar! I see IMPAF stickers, we know what this means! What do we do now?!', it all started to make more sense.

'WHATEVER GETS WITHIN RANGE, WE UNLEASH THE NETHER UPON IT!!!! WE'RE UP AGAINST OUR MORTAL ENEMIES NOW - ACT ACCORDINGLY!!!!'

'War, Death, Rebirth! War, Death, Rebirth! War, Death, Rebirth!'
'War, Death, Rebirth! War, Death, Rebirth! War, Death, Rebirth!'
'War, Death, Rebirth! War, Death, Rebirth! War, Death, Rebirth!'
'War, Death, Rebirth! War, Death, Rebirth! War, Death, Rebirth!'

[OOC Note - Noting Jedi gains from the Temple of Healing counter-salient, helped with pacing and means to get back into it from the lull. Michael's highest-ranked NPC subordinate has arrived on the scene, taking an opportunity to take some of the bite off those War Skiffs for ya. Mawites on the right flank (Defenders' left flank on G1 front) intend intend to hold the line, no matter the cost. But if defenders' counteroffensive loses impetus here, the Mawites on the right may yet decide to move forward in search of better ground to defend. ]

Wymar · Sunday at 1:36 PM

Darth Strosius

FEARS OF THE DEAD

ATRISIA
902 ABY
GALACTIC ALLIANCE

It was perhaps a tranquil surrounding which deeply contrasted the deep blackened steel of the Crestfallen's panoply. He knelt, sat on the heels of his boots, his eyes screwed shut beneath the visor of his armet in deep contemplation. Of the rubicon he was soon to cross and the great evils he'd helped to mar into the Galaxy's flesh to be one in flesh and soul where he was now. He'd tread the most treacherous ground, threading the needle between the wholeness of self and vantablack darkness irredeemable by even the most potent of sentient will. He'd stood in the 'Dark One' 's presence and remained untampered but who truly knew how long such a good grace would maintain in his pneuma, his spiritual being and self within the ethereal realm of the force.

A presence appeared, one that had been silent in his thoughts for some time. The argent figure approached him within the silent grove of slowly fluttering pink and crimson leaves which ascended to the ground in tranquil silence. "You have been quiet for some time, son..." He spoke, Wymar having blotted out the voice in favor of a greater agency over his own actions the deeper he entrenched himself into the darkness.

His eyes opened, side glancing toward the figure as it approached him with a silence that betrayed the stalwart, imposing stature of the figure of gunmetal armor and cloak of argent.

<"I've had to do...what needs to be done. I- I did not wish to be judged...or interfered wi-" >

"You're afraid...afraid of my judgement, now? Not seeking my...guiding hand as you once had?" The voice spoke, taking a chastising, patronly tone to his voice. "My son...I know well of the path you walk...I have guided you all this time. Do you think...I am unaware of the atrocity you have to invoke to grasp your ambition? The Force does not function in such an unchanging, committed path. It winds and turns in ways that may appear nonsensical...but its will be done regardless. It had taken me some time to learn this...some time to eviscerate my own ego and sense of self in the eyes of its will. You are obeying it...willfully or not. All I can do is keep you marching upon its path." The figure said, crouching down by the ebon armored knight.

"You are strong...but the temptation of darkness is no beast that any sentient can see slain so easily...you are well in mind and soul...you know what is required to attain what you seek...what I seek. There is a belief...amongst the people here that every man has his decisive moment....the moment that will decide his destiny before the Force and all the living. You have yet to see it..." He said, standing back up in front of the armored knight as the horrid silhouette of the Death Star hung in the horizon behind him.

"But when it comes...you know what must be done." He said before the apparition dissipated into nothingness. Wymar was still for a moment before the duraplast clad footfalls approached from behind. He glanced back to see Stormtroopers of the 501st, Commander Grimm among them.

He stood up, facing the man.

"Time to move." He said before Wymar nodded in affirmation. It was then that the distant crack of blaster and artillery upon the great city began to manifest in his senses. War. It seemed to be the constant, ever present reality of his existence in service to this Dark Empire.

All the great players of the Galaxy had come to bear witness to the ultimate display of power from the Empire on Atrisia. A moment later and he was in the troop bay of a MAG-24 Gunship.

Grimm's helmet was pulled on, the vacuum seal hissing before he spoke to Wymar. <"Sir, we got eyes on the movement of Sith...1st Armored will take the big dogs in the main city but if Sith Order is here...we're going to rid of them we're ingressing toward a vicinity grid of their last known movements now. If they're planning something big it could very well compromise 'DS3' and our maneuvers on the planet's surface."> Wymar nodded in understanding.

Within minutes, the shriek of rockets and blaster cannons screamed over the heads of the Sith before the troop bay doors swung open, the 501st rappelling down before they consolidated and bounded toward jagged rocks and whatever else could be used for cover in an attempt to envelop them. Wymar vaulted himself off, his feet planting back unto the planet's surface before his saber ignited in a hiss of crimson followed by the jutting kyber cross guards. Preferable, a great deal more preferable to battling with Jedi...was slaying Sith.

Sahar · Tuesday at 2:50 PM

		
"What horrors of the Dark Side you've survived, up until now…"- 
			 
		 Kylass Starhaven

She scoffed at the remark, offering a coy shrug of her shoulders as they both circled each other like a pair of dancers locked in harmony. Her black cloak billowed in the dust-filled air as her saber hummed bright red.

 "Has only deceived you into a power you think is your own." - 
			 
		 Kylass Starhaven

Sahars face dropped, and her face burned bright with anger as those words bore deep, more than the darksider might've conceded. She rushed the woman as fast as she spoke her words, throwing herself like an enraged animal straight at her, answering her words of deceit with a furious flurry of strikes and heavy blows. She'd thrown the debris in her way, hoping to use it to strike the woman off balance and put her down here and then. But the Jedi anticipated it, sending them off course as they both locked in furious combat.

She leapt back, blocking the upward strike the woman threw at her, parrying it to the side as she tested the Jedi's defensive resolve by feigning a short stabbing blow, which was quickly blocked by the woman's shoto. 

"My power is gained from my devotion, I serve what is right, I exist to correct what is wrong. Why do you fight for them?"

She struck again, locking her blade with Kylass's before breaking off again and continuing her tirade of words. 

"They're vermin, they're not like you and me, why do you waste your time on people who belong beneath the boot of change?"

uh tag ig 
			 
		 Kylass Starhaven
 
		 Franceline Dawer
 
		 Darth Bellum
 
		 Briana Sal-Soren
 
		 Darth Solipsis
 ​

Aselia Verd · Tuesday at 3:41 PM

Armor: [X]
Armament: Full List
Objective: Imperial March

The alarms still echoed in her ears as she turned away from the bridge. Behind her, the war drums of engines and commands filled the air Aether's words already moving the fleet into a battle rhythm. Around them, the Eidolon trembled with power, its very hull singing with the energy of the rift still stabilizing behind them.

Aselia didn't hesitate.

She gave one last look toward Aether and Srina two figures bound by purpose, one forged in iron and the other carved from the void and then she moved. Her buy'ce locked into place with a soft hiss as she strode from the command deck. The sound of armored boots on durasteel carried her through the corridors like the steady pulse of a heartbeat. Every step was deliberate. Every breath measured.

Her comm came alive as she descended toward the hangar decks.

"Kes warm up the engines, time to go and summon the squad. We're deploying planetside."

The hangar was a in motion when she arrived crews shouting, engines flaring, weapons loaded onto racks and ships. Her Tracyn Krayt, sat ready her engines already burning. Her squad was already there: six warriors They turned as she approached, helmets snapping toward her in wordless salute.

"Aselia." One of them named Varko spoke through the vocoder. "Orders from Mand'alor?"

She shook her head, cloak catching the heat from the engines as it flared behind her. "Aether's fight is above. Ours is below."

She walked the length of the ship as she spoke, gauntleted fingers brushing against the familiar hull. "The Empire breached the shield gate. Jar'Kai burns. The capital won't hold without reinforcements." She paused at the ramp, turning to face them. "We're going to change that."

"Each of you will deploy at different points across the city perimeter. Hold what ground you can. Protect the civilians if any remain. I'll take the center."

She climbed the ramp and into the cockpit, sliding into the pilot's chair with a motion that was half ritual. The controls of the Tracyn Krayt hummed to life beneath her touch, the displays flickering crimson as the engines warmed. Through the transparisteel canopy, she could already see the fiery streaks of drop pods descending toward the surface of Atrisia as well as the death star.

The Tracyn Krayt lifted from the deck, wings unfolding in a graceful mechanical sweep before locking into attack configuration. The red glow of her engines reflected off the hangar walls as she turned toward the open void. A few fighters pulled up along side to escort her to the edge of the ships control zone before breaking off for new tasking. Meanwhile Aselia and her squad dove into the atmosphere at full burn,

The the ship pierced the cloud cover like a falling meteor. "Get ready to drop" she called over her comms before letting go of the controls and turning the flight over to the droid. "Kes you know the drill, drop us and get to a safe distance. Being on a planet with a death star in orbit isn't exactly safe so we might need a quick exit." The R5 droid sputtered in protest but they both knew Kes would do it anyways.

Aselia joined her squad in the main hold and grabbed onto one of the handholds as the bay opened beneath their feet allowing a quick insertion. One by one they each dropped at their coordinates with Aselia dropping last. The ship was barely above building height when she dropped, immediately her jetpack flared hard slowing her descent so she would land gently. She drew her disruptor and activated her sensor suite.

TAG:

Reina Daival

Pal Veda · Tuesday at 4:38 PM

“I thought you Jedi weren’t supposed to have feelings?” Pal responded with a sly half grin. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be back before you know it.”

He tried to play it cool, but Kat’s words hung on him as he headed down the hallway and back down the stairs. The situation was dire, and several innocent lives rested on his ability to deliver. More importantly, Kat was relying on him to deliver. They were an unlikely duo. She was a time-displaced Jedi Master, a young woman on one hand but a centuries old warrior on the other. A protector of those who could not fend for themselves. Someone who always saw the light where everyone else only saw darkness. He was a rogue, a creature of credits and fortune, a man who would go to great lengths to better his position even at the expense of others. But he felt a connection to Kat. Nothing romantic, but more of a sense of brotherly obligation. Perhaps it came from their shared backgrounds as rebels, in one sense or another.

Focus. You can’t afford to be distracted now. Pal approached the edge of the stairwell and ensured the room was still clear — other than the four dead troopers — before carefully making his way inside. The door would be a no-go. They’d just come from there, and there were still militia from both sides battling it out in that direction. Instead, he climbed through one of the broken windows on the opposite wall and exited onto the northern side of the building where it was clear, for the time being. From there, he dashed across the street into a small alley and proceeded cautiously up, blaster barrel leading the way.

Once he reached the intersection, Pal peeked around the corner to find it clear in both directions. He took a right, then a quick left, making his way through the maze of walking paths connecting the city. As he approached the next crossing, he repeated the maneuver, only this time . . .

PEW! PEW! PEW!

Bolts whizzed my his head, and muffled robotic voices shouted indecipherable commands from behind Imperial-issued helmets. Sith! he cursed under his breath, planning his next move. Pal backtracked a bit and took cover behind a durasteel trash bin, waiting on the troopers to come for him. Two armored men rounded the corner, blaster rifles drawn, aimed in his direction.

PEW! PEW! PEW!

Pal braced for impact, but it never came. Chancing a glance over the makeshift barrier, he saw the bad guys drop, followed by more blaster fire flying from both directions. A Republic trooper ran past his small window of the action, rifle hot, only to be struck down next to the fallen Imperials. More followed, these more successful, seemingly taking over the hostile threat. Pal crept forward, planning to piggyback off of their advance.

Then the screams came, barely drowning out the hum. He wasn’t quite prepared for what he saw next. Sith! Except this time, it was an actual Sith. The man in black cut down two soldiers, his red blade slicing through them like butter. He lifted the third with a Force choke, slamming his body into the wall of what may have been a bookstore just hours earlier.

Pal fired two shots, drawing the dark acolyte’s attention from his current victim to reflect the bolts away. “How dare you!” he screeched, offended by the thought of a dashing mercenary with a pistol taking aim at a master of the Force such as himself. But now Pal could clearly see this was just some angsty teenager with no ability to control his emotions.

The Sith reached out and yanked, Force pulling Pal through the air. Rather than meet his doom at the end of a lightsaber, Pal managed to get off a couple more shots at his opponent’s feet, distracting him enough to lose his focus — and his supernatural grip. But he didn’t use this opportunity to retreat. Instead, the rogue doubled down, activating his rocket boots and jetting toward the darksider, firing along the way to prevent the Sith from skewering him like a kebab as he crash-tackled him to the pavement.

Both men lost their weapons, turning this into a free-for-all on the ground. The shocked acolyte tried to scramble away, but Pal pulled him down on top of him and took his back, wrapping his legs around his waist and right arm around his neck to apply a choke. Fighting for oxygen, the Sith drove an elbow into Pal’s side. He grunted from the strike but held strong. Another elbow. A third. Enough of this! Pal reached for his vibro-knife with his free left hand and drove it into the side of his foe’s abdomen, digging into his kidney and ripping upward. He then loosened his choking arm and brought the blade to the side of the Sith’s neck, stabbing it into his carotid artery. Blood erupted from the wound, followed by a few desperate gasps for breath. Then it was over.

Pal pushed his now deceased opponent away and clamored to his feet. Bruised and battered, he slid his knife back into its sheath and assessed himself for any major wounds. Well, I’m fine. He couldn’t say the same for the bloody corpse on the ground. Heart racing, adrenaline pumping, he kicked the dead man for good measure and cursed aloud. “Where’s my damn blaster?!” he yelled to himself, searching around for his pistol. It didn’t take long to find it — right next to the deactivated lightsaber. He retrieved both. “Don’t think you’ll be needing this again,” he taunted the lifeless Sith, sliding the hilt into his belt.

Now that that was done, Pal had to actually turn back to the task at hand. Finding a transport for the civilians. No more time to waste, and the road north was clear. He took off in a sprint, searching frantically for anything of use.

After a couple of blocks, he came across a delivery speeder covered in carbon scoring, doors hanging open, not a soul in sight. It must have been looted during the chaos, and the driver smartly abandoned it. What are the odds? Pal walked around back to check the cargo hold just to ensure it was clear, closed the rear latch, then came back and hopped in the driver’s seat. It cranked on the first try. Really, what are the odds?

Like a bat out of hell, Pal flew three blocks south, coming up on three Imperial troopers moving in on the building housing Kat and the civilians. “Not today, bad guys!” he shouted. They never saw him coming. The delivery speeder made quick work of the soldiers, Pal mowing them down without a second thought as he cut west at the intersection and slammed to a stop outside the rendezvous point.

He was confident he’d made enough noise on approach that Kat would be aware of his return.

Katarine Ryiah

Reina Daival · Tuesday at 5:33 PM

Tag:

Aselia Verd
Outfit

All of this was wrong.

Reina had barely a moment to brace herself for what had happened. The instant Ayame's message reached her, that Atrisia was in danger, she had moved without hesitation. Not as a Jedi. Not for duty. But for her. She'd gotten Ayame out. Forced her onto a shuttle off-world. But Ayame's family had been left behind. Reina had sworn she'd find them, no matter what.

No armor. No lightsaber. Just a promise and the will or perhaps stubborness to keep it.

Her sword remained sheathed in her grip as she navigated the ravaged streets, her blue haori snapping in the wind. Soot, smoke, and rain fell all around her, yet none of it seemed to touch her. The storm itself recoiled from her presence, droplets skittering away as a sphere of Force energy shimmered faintly around her, her own silent defiance against the chaos.

Every so often, she came across scattered firefights, small pockets of Imperial soldiers exchanging fire with desperate defenders. Reina waded into the fray, her sword still sheathed, striking with precision. Non lethal blows where possible. She told herself they deserved that chance. Not all who served the Empire were monsters. Some were simply...trapped. It was what Colette had wanted Reina to do. So she would try. But as she pressed deeper into the heart of the burning city, the bodies grew more frequent and fewer still drew breath. Civilians. Families. Children.

Something began to crack.

The restraint she clung to like a lifeline started to slip, anger leaking out with every swing. Her strikes grew heavier, less merciful. The soft thud of a body replaced by the crunch of bone. Necks. Legs. Groins. Every blow was a wordless accusation. When she stumbled upon an Imperial firing squad executing its final victims, the dam broke completely.

The Force barrier around her shattered in an instant, rain pouring over her at last, as crimson mist replaced it. Her blade sang free from its sheath, and the air filled with screams.

But when one soldier tried to crawl away, gasping and sobbing through a ruined throat, Reina didn't even think. She grabbed him by the collar, hauled him up...and sank her teeth into his neck.

The taste of iron flooded her mouth. Hot. Metallic. Alive. It was different to when she had bitten Valaine. Far more vicious. And it did not taste nearly as blissful as it had with her. He thrashed once, then went still.

For a moment, Reina froze, her breath ragged, pupils wide, her face stained with blood. The part of her that was still Jedi recoiled at what she'd done. But the rest of her…the part that sought justice...only felt the satisfaction of justice delivered. She could confront what she had done later. For now? She had to push on.

To Reina, death was justice now. A mercy, even, one she no longer believed her enemies deserved. By the end, the street ran slick with blood, be it from the innocent or the evil, splashing against her boots and staining her haori. Red against blue. Justice against mercy. Sweat and rain mixed on her brow as she forced herself onward, cutting through any who barred her path. She had a promise to keep.

Then movement caught her eye. A group of Imperial troopers, firing wildly into the sky, they weren't even looking at her. Reina dashed forward, carving through them with silent efficiency before finally lifting her gaze upward. Her breath hitched. The bloodlust wavered.

"…Mandalorians,"

She muttered, voice low and cold as the rain.

: Means written/typed communication : < Means Sign Language communication >

St. Thomas Barran · 2025-10-15T02:02:38-0400

DUELLING TAGS
Friend: N/A
Foe:

Shinzou Ashina

Kito

WARPOSTING TAGS
Friend:

Daro Kilaeon
Foe:

Laphisto

Ira Dei
VI
FLASHBACK 2

WESTERN PIER-FRONT, CORAL COAST,
CINNAGAR, EMPRESS TETA (SUMMER OF 877 ABY)

Attacking in a storm - they're adapting
Learning to wield terror.

Smirking under the mask of a long-dead Rhigaran foe, Thomas would find at least some appreciation for the Core-Worlders' newfound resolve, seeing the Galactic Alliance still had teeth enough still to confidently stand toe-to-toe with the Maw, an aggression akin to that of the experienced mercenaries the Scar Hounds had been fighting on Tython and Mustafar alike. The Jedi were all finally out for blood, and for the first time, the Bloodhound could feel it in his bones; the creeping realisation that divine retribution was seeking their ilk, the slow-building pressure of adrenaline, all readying Barran from head to toe for the worst. The sort of fear that his ilk sowed, as great and insurmountable as their efforts had been before, were expected to reap the terror of the onslaught that awaited them, though all would stand bravely in acceptance of the odds they would be facing.

For many among the Brotherhood's strongest tribes, this was inevitable, and the majorities within those tribes were relishing their next high-stakes salvo against the Core-Worlders, relishing the fact the battles would only get more destructive as time passed. Existential threats existed on all sides by then, and for as long as the Galaxy was adapting to the Maw's war on it's greatest factions, the strength of their enemies' attacks would serve as ever-greater means to reflect this fact. The Brotherhood of the Maw, though wild and untameable as they were, would have existential threats of their own to contend with for as long as they pushed out from the Unknown Regions.

An eventuality of which, even the lowest rungs of the hierarchy were acutely aware - an eventuality that would later bring the faction to it's knees.

And I'll leave my mark on every - last - one o' them!

[OOC Note - Again, nothing to contest for this Tommy part, just more flashback interlude to explore a few of yesteryear's tension-points. Still working to draw relevance to the opening of a second Barran/Ashina scorecard. Soundwave is still free to prepare a reply without pressure, and without interruption to the PvP posting order between us.]

AUXILIA
VI

BATTLEFRONT: G1, MIRAI JAR'KAI,
ASTRISIA, GALACTIC CORE TERRITORIES (903 ABY)

'Sounds like they're done for the rest of the operation.'
'Yup.... Plus side?'
'Eh... Feth it, shoot.'
'Breathing-room, and time.'

Although it was the toughest sub-sector for opposition in the beginning, the first vanguard offensive on G1 had yielded high-ground positions in the struggle, and in the time-spent within the deepest of three salients, the quiet Sakiyan had wisely turned all three hillock avenues into a single larger strongpoint. A cohesive, wide-set compound to hold for as long as it would take for the flanks to catch up, and push, once more, as one fluid breakout offensive, though the countering pushback made this pursuit more than difficult to achieve, yielding just two tasks for the Keshigs of 1st Battalion. First, to continue strengthening fortifications, holding off the city's defenders whilst moving debris and rubble-chunks wherever they were needed most, and second, simply, to observe the battlefield from north to south, and to wait.

Listening on from their vantage point, Zarral and his closest subordinate could only sigh in abject dejection as the distant sounds of War Skiff destruction reached their ears, turning their eyes northward to find the shockwaves visible enough to see from their sub-sector. After hearing the engine-howls for the first time in almost two years, it was a disheartening thing to see such a vicious blow was being dealt to their formation, but just as the Keshig-Leader was on the verge of turning away, the distant thuds and automatic fire faded to silence, giving way to howls once more, though the Skiffs were quite a long distance away by then.

The oblique-left and blocking-right flanks had been taking the brunt of the sector's punishment, and with the interception of the War Skiffs considered, it seemed as though the entire Brigade had been suffering through the snow that day; especially the lesser-prepared youths of the oblique-left, and for all the previous concerns of adrenal, fearful freezing under-fire, it was becoming quite obvious that young Batu was thriving in the Crucible. Like grandfather- like father, and like father- like son after all, taking to warfare like every other Barran born from descendants of Erskine's line, consequently satisfying Zarral's one-and-only reason to remove the lad's proverbial training-wheel.

All occurring much sooner than expected, a relief the Keshig-Leader needed in these moments, but there was more yet to Batu than the fighting courage of the father - something else, hidden just beyond the mentor's perception.

'Got a speeder there, hidden under the rubble?'
'Huh?! Did someone put rubble on m-'
'HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! Feth off, Ulusar!'

It was a good thing that 1st Battalion could look up to Breaker as a worthy commander, making it easier for Zarral's subordinates to get a read on their Keshig-Leader, all fully-aware it was an easier thing to achieve than it was for the brethren of the other two Battalions. If ever such leanings of abandonment concern became a factor in Zarral's mind, his subordinates would have been able to spot it with ease, as if from a mile away, likely being the first in all the Mawsworn Legion to see it; but after judging by his early run of good form, it was apparent as to why, exactly, the Sakiyan was chosen specifically to lead the Brigade's vanguard contingent, plucked from the clique of Kolene ringleaders by way of silent, pointed finger.

Chosen discretely, true to the quiet, weighted voice of the Sakiyan.

'Dude, you ain't gonna rout for nobody. Who you kiddin', huh?'
'Am I that easy to read?'
'Well, yeah. There's that, and the fact your power's drawin' in a lil' fanclu-uuuuhhh..... Ulusar - look south!'

The Sakiyan's closest subordinate, a grey-haired human who answered to,"Wrench", (sporting a long, yet-redeemable criminal history) was mid-explanation when the sight of a giant, four-legged AT caught old Wrench's periphery, roving a solitary path beyond it's wide, north-facing formation. Even in the early stages of this sudden development, it would not require a genius to see that something had gone awry for giant armoured contingent, even less to see that no such deviations of manoeuvre would be permitted under the circumstances, especially not if an unprompted advance would leave a visibly-wide gap in the city's defensive formation.

Steady pacing had been set for the giant AT's counteroffensive, granting them a wider, farther view of the target area, and in a previous self-admission that such an approach was proving to be a headache for the Khanate contingent, Zarral had found another reason to consider this sudden development an uncanny turn of events. The Sakiyan would not know the giant AT had been hijacked, however, until heavy onboard-cannonry blasted the breach they used to open the front against the city, an effort that would only be endeavoured by an escaping thief, one who would have known that none were stationed there at the time.

This was the work of a rogue, one who carried affiliations with the cause.

<"Breaker - if I told you I just boosted a giant AT-walker, would you believe me?">
<"Batu! I swear, if thats you in that thing-">
<"HAHAHAHAHA! Fething mad-lad!">
<"Relax, Breaker! Its plunder, and we just hit the fething JACKPOT with this thing!">

'I mean, he's not wrong, but-', the Sakiyan muttered in confidence after briefly switching off his receiver's speak-prompt, trailing off to look back at the breach the young sharptooth had just widened, fully weighing up the lad's options for just a small moment longer than necessary. Breaker then turned back to Wrench, with what appeared to be a look of bemusement, asking,'Why am I suddenly guessing he gets that from his mother?', as if he was merely pondering a silly question out loud. Zarral had not yet been introduced to the Khatan yet, as he was still yet to earn his place among the Darkhans, though he had experience enough with the Khan to know this sort of endeavour was not indicative of the Bloodhound's usual patterns of criminality.

'Ulusar - we both know the Khan would sooner destroy it instead. Perspective there, if ever you needed such a thing.'

By then, it was quickly becoming apparent that the 3rd Auxilia was a better fit than anticipated, and for as long as the "Scavengers" continued to encourage this line of thinking for the young sharptooth, it was obvious already to Breaker that it would forge an entirely different Marauder to that which his father was before him. A newer, bolder form of strategist was forming in the heart, mind and soul of young Batu, a newer warfighting archetype to spring from the Barran wellspring, of which the Sakiyan could only hope to be effective in the long-run; Zarral did not want Arriochus to peak too soon, nor did he want the lad to lose steam in his momentum, but there were no signs of such exhibited as yet.

The Trilunar Darkhan, as it appeared, would not allow such a disappointment to transpire either, not for as long as the lad brought life and vigor to the Brigade, not with an entire Mawsworn legacy at stake. It was clear that everyone (even the Sakiyan himself) could see the lad's potential, and so, in order to stoke the flames of the next Marauding generation, the instructions were soon hoped to reflect this rather-involved effort to aid in Batu's success. Not that it would take long to dwell on one, particular matter, as Ghoul's latest whereabouts, along with those of the approaching Horse Lords, were never once far from mind that day.

<"If thats your plan, take it to the breach - then north.... Find the Horde, find Ghoul.">
<"Copy that, Ulusar! Wish me luck.">
<"May the winds carry your steed, young Nomad.... Breaker out!">
<"Seconded! Good luck, Batu.... Wrench out!>

[OOC Note - Deployment points for the Crucible, the vanguard center of the battle for G1 Sector. Defenders of every sort are welome to attack the Mawsworn strong-point. Either way, after this post, I give all opps a chance to catch up OOC and respond at their own pace. Laphisto now has a rogue AT unit escaping the formation, as arranged. Will take it from the thief's POV in my next warpost, but the heist is now officially in it's first phase.]

Kyric · 2025-10-15T13:02:51-0400

The opening clash extended into a crescendo of singing steel as Bellum met each of Kyric's strikes with startling precision. Nothing pierced the Sith Lord's defenses, and before the Jedi knew it, his opponent had him on the backfoot. The specter of war towered over Kyric. His reach dwarfed the smaller man, made worse by the startling difference in size between Fellsong and the Voice of the Wind.

Kyric backpedaled as Bellum pressed forward into an onslaught all his own. The greatsword cleaved through stone like it was paper. Sparks careened out into the street as each pass of Fellsong blew Kyric's blade out of position. He struggled to bring his blade back to guard in time to catch the next attack, forcing him to dodge up and over a nearby speeder for even a second's reprieve. Fellsong came on nonetheless. The cursed weapon cleaved through durasteel no differently than stone. More sparks erupted where the tip of the blade tore into the street. Fuel leaking from the speeder's engine caught fire, erupting in a ball of flame sent skyward from the force of the explosion.

Exhaling sharply, Kyric drew upon his psionic power and erected an invisible barrier between himself and the eruption. Concussive force battered the shield. The kiffar felt himself slide back across the duracrete beneath his feet, while a wave of heat crashed over him, drying his mouth in an instant. All the while, Darth Bellum marched through the wreckage, seemingly untouched by the nearby destruction.

Chit.

Kyric rounded out to the side of the rubble to avoid being pinned between the Sith Lord and a wall. The thought of fighting for his life under those circumstances didn't sit well with the Jedi Knight—not that his prospects improved all that much standing in the middle of the street. His opponent still seethed with an inexplicable hunger to rage and kill.

Fortunately, the spirit trapped within Kyric's prosthetic left arm worked to counteract the negative energies which beset his mind. But much like his shift in position, it did nothing more than slow the inevitable.

When next Bellum fell upon Kyric, the kiffar surged forward. He narrowly side-stepped a downward chop. When the weapon shifted into the follow-up, he planted his artificial hand onto the flat of the greatsword and vaulted over it in a vein attempt to blast the Sith Lord point black with a wave of telekinetic energy. Instead, Fellswung swung back on the backswing. Kyric lifted his blade, catching the blow meant to slice him in twain, then soared back down the street for a dozen paces. He hit the floor, skidding for another dozen feet.

Rolling onto his feet, Kyric lifted his blade anew. He gripped the hilt with both hands, sword parallel to the floor, yet level with his jaw. One foot slid backward and he dropped into a faint crouch, his weight distributed evenly across both legs. A powerful wind gathered around him, kicking up dust, loose stones, and the Jedi Knight's tattered vestments.

Tags:

Darth Bellum

Laphisto · 2025-10-15T14:55:07-0400

Company 1 Crator Fangs

Kroeger

As the last gunship peeled away from the great wall, Laphisto found himself with thirty-six men left at his section holding the parapet for now. That number didn't include the Nightclaws and the teams under

Saul Whesai down in the forrest below all told they only had roughly one hundred and eighty boots on this front.

Then the engines started the high, mechanical whine of approaching aircraft. Laphisto eased his stance and scanned skyward. four shapes were coming in hot, cutting through the smoke toward the killzone. Relief tightened at the back of his throat; the incoming CAS would shred the enemy formations below and give him the window to move into the city and reinforce the FOB.

Relief didn't last. A voice snapped over his shoulder. "Contact two klicks out. Armor and infantry on thermals. Walker on their left flank spotted the column moving for the wall, sir!"

Heads swivelled to the readouts and then to the treeline. The thermal returns showed a spear of contacts tracked silhouettes and trooper clusters closing fast. The situation had just gone from manageable to urgent: the air was inbound, but so was a force big enough to try and rip the line open before the CAS could hammer them. Laphisto's hand went to the comm; he keyed it in two short, controlled bursts, already shifting priorities as the world condensed to bearings, targets, and the single rule that mattered hold the wall.

Laphisto's ear twitched sharply as he keyed the comm. "Send me those coordinates now!" The feed transferred to his wrist display in a blink range markers, thermals, a moving armored column sweeping through the trees. He immediately opened a channel to the incoming gunships. "Pegs, divert! New targets, two klicks downrange uploading now!" he snapped. switching channels before quickly adding "Nightclaws, pull from the wall and intercept herd them toward the clearing before the strike hits."

The forest below crackled with tension tracers cut through the canopy, embers glowing faintly between the shadows. Then came the dull thunk-thunk-thunk of smoke canisters striking the wall's outer face, spilling thick white clouds that shimmered unnaturally as they dispersed. "Ion gas!" a trooper shouted, ducking behind the parapet. Readouts spiked across HUDs electromagnetic interference, static flickers. Laphisto recognized it instantly: a Tibana disruptor mix, engineered to overload and disable energy-based weaponry. Unfortunately for their attackers, the Lilaste Order didn't rely solely on Tibana.

"switch to slugs all units, slug rounds only. Energy's toast in that cloud!," he ordered. Across the parapet, hybrid barrels went cold on the plasma feed and the LO-52R and rifle crews fed belts of pure slugs. The wall answered with a steady, percussive thunder: kinetic rounds punching through the mist,
The PEGs altered their run, pilots acknowledging the new vector as the clearing ahead filled with the sound of slugfire. Laphisto slotted a fresh magazine with a metallic snap and kept his sights low

The four gunships adjusted their approach vector and pitched in hard, lining up a strafing run with surgical precision. Once in range they opened up without hesitation 50mm high-explosive and armor-piercing rounds slamming into the enemy column in rapid succession. Each impact detonated as fragments and earth sprayed into the canopy.

Above the roar, the LOVAC cannons thumped in tight, mechanical volleys humming up, spitting rounds, then dying to silence as their magazines cycled dry. The effect on the column was immediate: armored vehicles caught fire, a tracked silhouette buckled and stopped, infantry clusters scattered and broke into ragged sprinting lines toward any cover they could find. Smoke boiled up from the ground, obscuring parts of the kill zone and turning the forest into a clouded ruin.

With their firing runs complete and ammunition drained, the gunships snapped their noses up and punched back toward low orbit to re-arm and reload. Their withdrawal left the walkers and infantry below to finish the sweep what the airstrike had opened, ground forces would close.

Company 2 storm Vultures + Crator fang reinforcements

St. Thomas Barran

Kroeger

Ronhar Tane [tagging you since you might be nearby to interact/ assist]

It wasn't long before the entire column was surrounded. Enemy units had slipped through side streets and elevated walkways, converging on the main thoroughfare that led toward the bridge. Shadows moved in every direction silhouettes darting between ruined facades, blaster fire flashing from shattered windows. But where most infantry would have broken under such encirclement, the Lilaste Order did not falter.

The eight AT-AE MKIII walkers adjusted formation with mechanical precision, lowering themselves until their armored hulls scraped the cracked permacrete. Hydraulic pistons hissed as each walker settled into position, forming an interlocking semi-circle that sealed off the approach to the bridge. What had been a moving column was now a fortress of alloy and discipline an unbreakable wall in the middle of the street.

Infantry squads surged into motion the moment the walkers locked down. They filled the narrow spaces between the massive chassis, throwing down sandbags, debris, and broken street barriers to create firing lanes. Every gap was measured and reinforced each machine gun position calibrated to crossfire with its neighbors. The rhythmic clack of LO-52s being mounted echoed through the avenue, punctuated by the heavy slam of ammunition boxes against stone.

A few soldiers projected temporary energy shields, translucent barriers humming as incoming blaster bolts splashed harmlessly across them. Behind that glowing curtain, others moved quickly, fortifying their positions, setting up heavy tripods, and adjusting field sights down the burning street. The air was thick with ozone, dust, and the distant roar of collapsing masonry.

As soon as the emplacements were ready, the shields dropped and the Order answered. The silence broke into thunder as hundreds of slug rounds screamed through the narrow street, pulverizing walls and sending sprays of brick and dust into the air. Machine guns chattered in unison, their fire converging into a single storm of metal and fury that raked every doorway and intersection within sight.

Encircled or not, Company 2 had no intention of giving ground. In the choking haze of Jar'Kai's streets, they had become the wall itself and anything crossing that bridge would pay in blood and steel.

Meanwhile, the walkers unleashed their full fury. Each carried a pair of LO-52 heavy emplacements mounted on retractable pintle turrets, and now all sixteen roared to life at once. The street shook beneath the relentless chatter of heavy slug fire, muzzle flashes strobing through the smoke-filled avenue as entire enemy fire teams were cut down in the open.

Two of the eight walkers had been refitted with LO-22/AP rapid-fire blaster cannons, their barrels spinning up with a rising mechanical whine before vomiting streaks of plasma down intersecting streets. Every burst turned stone to glass and steel to molten slag any enemy who dared lean out from cover was met with instant annihilation.

The Lilaste Order's forward operating base had become a fortress under siege. Barely a hundred and eighty soldiers manned the perimeter, dashing between cover, cycling belts, and rotating through firing lanes as the enemy pressed from every direction. But even surrounded, their coordination was flawless each command barked over the comms with cold efficiency, each movement executed like clockwork.

Then, above the cacophony, came the low thunder of repulsor engines. The air shimmered as two LAHT gunships dropped from the clouds, their hull lights cutting through the haze. They hovered directly over the FOB, side doors open, twin rotary cannons already spitting streams of 30-06 tungsten slugs into the enemy ranks below. Buildings rattled under the concussion, windows bursting outward from the pressure alone.

As the gunships laid down suppressive fire, the reinforcements came seventy-two soldiers leaping from the bays in waves. Their LO-ADS descent systems flared bright teal as micro-thrusters and repulsor lifts ignited, slowing their fall just enough for precision landings amidst the chaos. Some fired mid-descent, bursts of slug fire snapping through the night as they eliminated exposed targets before even hitting the ground.

Within moments, the new arrivals filled the defensive gaps, slotting into sandbag lines and behind walker hulls like they'd drilled the maneuver a hundred times. Commands overlapped, comms buzzed, and the once-outnumbered defenders surged with fresh energy.

During the chaos, the three surviving gunships that had once trieda nd failed to land in the Expansion Ward finally saw their opening. The fires had thinned, the airspace cleared just enough, and without hesitation, they swooped in low over the shattered rooftops. Repulsor fields flared as the craft descended into the center of the FOB, their hulls scorched and armor dented from earlier runs.
Trailing contrails of plasma discharge and scorched carbon, the trio banked sharply and descended toward the heart of the forward operating base. The landing zone, once a cratered courtyard, erupted in a storm of dust and displaced air as the craft touched down in rapid succession. Side hatches hissed open and magnetic clamps released with heavy thuds each gunship delivering a towering AT-AE MKIII walker to the field.

The first walker hit the ground hard, stabilizers deploying as its triple-barreled LO-21/AAA system spun up, servos whirring to life. Its sensors immediately locked onto hostile aircraft signatures breaking through the haze above. The second and third followed close behind one mounting the thunderous E.M.D.C. and the third supporting the artillery system,

The timing could not have been better. as soon the gunships of The Iron Legions began to close in dark silhouettes slicing through the thick smoke above the district. and they were soon met with the two LO-21/AAA cannons as they flicked skyward, switched into active targeting mode. and Seconds later, the sky erupted in streams of molten tracers. The twin batteries unleashed a relentless torrent of anti-air fire, their overlapping fields of fire painting the air with streaks of orange and blue as shells detonated midflight. aimed at destroying or detering the legions gunships from getting to close

Smoke, flame, and the shriek of metal filled the air as the walkers settled into their rhythm rotating, firing, recharging, and coordinating with infantry and turret teams in perfect sync. Their combined shields held against the storm, their weapons creating a kill zone that made every Legion advance a blood price. The FOB had transformed from a desperate foothold into a fortress of fire and iron. But with more signatures appearing on the long-range scans and the enemy showing no signs of retreat, one truth loomed over every soldier on the line. This was only the beginning of a long, brutal defense.

Iron fang and its detachment of walkers + 36 infantry from crator fangs

Ronhar Tane [tagging you since you might be nearby to interact/ assist]

As

Kasan Osera 's ion missile streaked in toward the lead walker, the defensive net snapped alive. Two LO-PDL point-defense batteries flared and opened in perfect rhythm short, precise bursts of intercept fire that chewed the missile into a trailing cloud of hot metal two hundred meters short of the column.

It wasn't an isolated success. Other enemy salvoes that tried to pitch in from the flanks met the same fate: LO-PDL batteries cycling, interceptors blooming into the sky, explosions dotting the approach and sending glowing fragments down into the trees. Any position that dared to fire on the walker column found itself marked immediately. Targeting feeds painted hostile launcher coordinates in hot orange across the techs' displays, and the mass-driver walker answered with brutal efficiency.

A 250-mm high-explosive round screamed from the mass driver, arcing wide and slamming into a firing position. The detonation threw up a wind of grit and broken duracrete shrapnel and masonry sprayed through the air, ripping apart emplaced cover. Follow-up .50-caliber slugs chewed at whatever salvageable targets remained, finishing the suppression with surgical, kinetic violence.

Through the comms a response blinked up on the tactical channel: "General

Zark San Tekka ping received. Walkers en route now. be advise Lilaste order FOB has been encircled. we can provide support fopr now but if our boys need us we will pull back to rienforce them" The column kept its pace amid the smoke and falling debris—point defenses cycling automatically, the mass driver ready to punish any new sensor ping. The message was simple and unambiguous: the walkers were moving, and anything that tried to stop them would be noticed and erased.

If things weren't bad enough already, the low thrum of repulsorlifts rose above the din a single Lilaste gunship cutting through the haze like a predator bird. The craft's floodlights pierced the smoke-choked avenue, sweeping across ruined rooftops as it slowed to a hover above the walker column. Its engines howled, kicking up spirals of dust and debris that whipped against the walkers' armored hulls like a storm.

Hatches split open midair, and thirty-six soldiers leapt into the maelstrom below, LO-ADS systems flaring to life with a wash of blue light. Repulsors screamed as they stabilized their descent, weapons already barking bursts of fire before their boots even hit duracrete. Above them, the gunship's twin rotary cannons came alive spinning up in a deafening roar that stitched molten tracer fire into the facades of nearby buildings. Windows shattered outward, walls cratered, and anything that dared move beneath its shadow was cut down in a haze of smoke and muzzle flash.

Once the last trooper hit ground, the gunship rose sharply, thrusters angling back toward the skyline as it surged away to assist elsewhere. The soldiers it had delivered immediately folded into formation, spreading between the advancing walkers to reinforce their flanks.

The column pressed onward, unrelenting. Each step of the walkers sent deep tremors through the street, shaking loose chunks of ferrocrete from the war-torn buildings looming overhead. Return fire sparked harmlessly off their forward shields as the lead walker answered in kind its mass driver cannon swinging toward a defiant rooftop and unleashing a thunderclap that split the air. A moment later, the building vanished behind a wave of smoke and flying duracrete.

Every hostile nest that dared open fire met the same fate. The advancing formation carved its path toward the Spire through walls of flame and dust, the city itself trembling under the weight of their march.

Junko Ike · 2025-10-15T14:55:30-0400

GROUND DEFENSE OF ATRISIA
OBJECTIVE: Continued Defense of Atrisia
LOCATION: Miyoung Iwata's Lab
ALLIES:

Omega Squad
ENEMIES:

Franceline Dawer

Rei was moving as the underground areas led the way. Citizens and soldiers standing as they were repairing their armor with the raw maatter to let the self repair of the equipment continue to function. Weapons being fabricated in the larger duplicators while more of them were arming up to keep moving. Others holding the universal kits as it was being used on the scattered weapons and armor to analyze and give information to the fireteams. Most regarded with looks and going on guard but they barely moved from their works. The implants giving them information as Rei continued forward seeing the form of Unchou and Chuja. THe pair of them coordinating. ""We want the new data sent out, keep rotating firing squads as needed. Coordinate with the new units and armor being sent in and use the war beasts that are incoming. We have the princesses Atlasbreakers activated now we can send them to reinforce positions the glydr are not situated at." She was speaking aand looked up as Rei gave her a look. "We have a something worse case scenario she tries to aattack and gets taken down. Bet case what she says is helpful." He shrugged as The woman looked at him. "I'll take whatever we can get, there are Galactic Alliance people and others breaking into the bunkers and forcing the children into the streets to be attacked." She said it and Rei turned to look back at Franceline. "Tell her what you told me, we will send it to the people who will listen." He said it and remained there on the side while looking over the hardlight map. The majokai were still in the main areas around the spire but some were spreading out to parts of the city. Glydr units finding their places and coordinating with the orchid platforms on the walls. He looked at Chiju and pointed. "Do we know who this is?" He asked and she looked at him and it. "Not yet, they seem to be operating on the same system as the others. We'll log it and engage, if they leave equipment from firefights we'll anlyze and adjust our encounters." He could see that and the expansion as Kenzo was moving parts of the army through and working on it block by block.

Kenzo meanwhile stood with the other generals as the information continued to come in. Their connection to the interior fo the city wasshowing more forces arriving and the ones from Veradune were making bigger progress. If anything they had checked in and coordinated with the Atrisians so she knew who they were... most others seemed to just arrive and start fighting. A method she supposed while watching the screen and looking up. The tank units were following behind as barricades were set up at the alleyways. The heavier gravity locks being put in place to secure them while fireteams went into each building to secure it. Once it was done the locals were put in there positioned with a connection to the smart roads so they could have reinforcements from the biots being set in. Better to have four visible in a home or shop and a dozen prepared once someone charged in. Each soldier positioning their hibani for different lines of fire and protection from grenades and debris that would be falling. SHe had Zhang working with others as they were making a corridor towards the bridge itself whilesecuring along the walls. "We have the orbital snipers at the edges moving into better positions. They will be able to get the ranges needed for covering the bridge more." THey had been doing that since they got in position as the explosions rocked against units that were painted by the Atrisian citizens. She could see more of the warbeasts were moving as the konoe were barely controlled but they could be used to clear sections on the different walls. "Kenzo, we have reached the cliff on the northern side. Setting up barricades against the cliffs." She said it and Kenzo gave a nod of her head the only thing they were questioning was what might happen with the no mands land regions below and between but they used it for cradles to hold the carriers that were flying above and projecting shields in areas. Maintaining with the projectors on the walls the planetary grade shielding over the city. The additional power generators were being hooked up so that they would have more energy on the grid itself. She had seen the princesses plan to maintain it, knew the likely situation from what was in the plan and information would be the misinformation on the com channels being used by the galactic alliance and high republic mostly were one sided. Atrisian forces were listening on their interfaces which fed them visuals and information that they could varify... and just the basic knowledge. "Continue with engagement and fortifications. We might be the only ones fighting for the people."

Junko listened to the channel on the interface as she offered a small look. "Kenzo, we are fighting as well. The city is doing better then most. Though I am still confused why they are congrigating at the Spira. I guess a lot of people on all sides like phallic symbols and associate them with power... though I guess the sansin's apartments are located there. Maybe they are looking to borrow some sugar." She said it to herself to get a small laugh. The mega apartment block was massive and served as its own bunker at the lower levels where needed but she was more looking at the display of the city and where on the walls new people were showing. "Swear next shield upgrades for the planetary grid, we'll go trans dimensional, anything that passes through goes into another dimension... would be funny." She laughed as mentally she was taking in it with annoyance, defenses and everything equating to resistance seemed to be more amusing and an inconvienance then something to overcome... and somehow she kept hearing people talk about Jar'kai burning on the comlink channels they listened to or fires spread... on kazue stone. A powerful feat and they would have to look into harvesting the fire itself if they could replicate it. Physics defyinng fire that resisted all attempts to put it out is a powerful things after all. "Well at least we have stores of energy, all of this power on display has been giving the energy harvestors large reserves." She said it while the continued use of the towers for absorbing darkside enerrgies and mitigating influences across the surface of the planet and the city were functioning. FOrce conversion rates were high as the small spheres that they had created used that energy to create after all. Her hands slid the small box as taking the case off four spheres gleamed in the silvery metal. "Well these will haave enough energy to produce a few thousand units for now... the more they teleport in the more we can make. An infinite loop." She shrugged while she was able to look at more. The lightside dragons were a good touch for what she had here, their size was hard for the smaller arms to penetrate and knives were a joke... their bulks presented a way to block the streets and funnel into more killzones with overlapping fire. THe gldyr and different biots were setting up with wardroids on roofs and intersections where most streets went into. Her attention on the hardlight display letting her see the Atrisian beacons from their citizens.

"Lets see how the hospital looks." She said it and knew the Alliance kept calling it a temple and it waas it was just also a medical center designed to house science and force based healing... why they needed to call it only one thing when it was designed as two.. confused but at this point she rolled with it. Junko was looking at more as the theater seemed to be on fire and filled with smoke... the more open aired design should have prevented that but... again she had to make due with things. It was he same in the gardens as she was hearing form some of the enclaves and lower levels of the mountain and city. Their water filters were clogging from bodies and filtered poisons were showing up in the bio alerts. THey had more information coming as another ship was coming in and sending people to the walls of the city. The massive drop beyond them being the area where so many had already been sent as Atrisian forces had moved. She knew the bridge was a key point in their endeavors as well. "We have to keep going, we have the power generated from their quantum teleporting and tunneling. It allows us to fuel the infinite engines we designed for situations like this. We'll maintain here and coordinate with

Vulpesen and his forces from Veradune. If others need to ensure they have the means to contact us and have the Smart tunnels shielding reinforced. We'll want to use their openings as a better means to travel around while the droids work on breaking down Imperial equipment and drop pods into more materials for the nanite clouds to rebuild the city sections." She was looking at more details on the map while directing and planning some of it. Sun was giving her a lot of information as the power systems from the kanamara continued to function maintaining their shielding. "We still have the Chi-Oni and Onna armies approaching and the Kyushi have theirs enroute and ready to deploy." SHe would have to prepare and deal with that next... there was a lot of danger coming from what they would face here but unleashing ancient Atrisian warriors and well dishonored yovshin on them would go some way or another.

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
Iron Monger x
Jadeite Jedi Units x

Aselia Verd · 2025-10-15T23:28:09-0400

Armor: [X]
Armament: Full List
Allies: TSO & Allies
Objective: Imperial March

The wind howled as the Tracyn Krayt vanished into the storm above, its engines fading into the distance like the roar of some crimson beast retreating to the clouds. Rain hammered against her armor, rolling in rivulets down the crimson plates as Aselia adjusted her stance on the slick duracrete. Her buy'ce swept across the skyline, the HUD flickering with heat signatures, distress signals, and encrypted Mandalorian comms bleeding through the chaos.

Jar'Kai burned.

Columns of smoke stretched into the heavens, twisting with the firelight of war. The sound of screaming civilians mixed with the thunder of artillery and the shriek of descending drop pods. It wasn't a city anymore. It was a graveyard being written in real time.

Her HUD flickered with data streams through the interference compressed bursts of telemetry and biometric feeds from her squad. One set of vitals flashed amber injured but stable. Another beacon pulsed steady near the eastern quarter, a cluster of hostile markers forming around him.
The last signal burned bright along the outer wall, engaged with advancing armor. The rest were dark.

Aselia's jaw tightened behind the visor, but she said nothing. The information was enough.

She holstered her disruptor for now, keeping her dominant hand free as she moved, boots sinking slightly into the mud and ash collecting along the ruined street. Her sensor suite pulsed again Imperial signatures moving in organized lines down the avenue ahead. She marked them silently, fed the data to her squad, and kept walking.

Through the smoke she could see what had been a market district now a shattered maze of collapsed roofs and burning stalls. The heat from the wreckage shimmered in the rain, casting everything in a molten haze.

Then came the screams.

Civilians scattered, panicked running from the advancing Imperial troops. Drop pods had landed too close. Precision fire rained from rooftops, cutting through anyone who tried to flee. A compartment on the shoulder of her armor opened and a small launcher appeared, a volley of micro missiles rippled off tearing the roof off the building that the Imperial troops were standing on and dumping tons of debris upon them.

"Civilians, move!" Her voice cut through the storm on external comms, harsh but commanding. "North route's clear go!"

They hesitated only a moment before scrambling past her, terrified and silent. She didn't look back.

A distant explosion rolled through the city, briefly illuminating the skyline a piece of the Great Wall collapsing under bombardment. She checked her scanner again, adjusting her course. The capital's center was still ahead, and if her readings were right, it was becoming the eye of this storm.

Kes pinged her from orbit an alert of rising orbital energy. The Death Star wasn't idle.

"Copy, Kes. Stay high and dark."

Another corner turned. The street opened to a larger avenue littered with the bodies of Imperial troops fresh kills, not hers. Her visor magnified the scene automatically. Precise cuts. but fast, very fast and clean.

Someone else was here.

Her gauntlet tightened on her disruptor as she advanced, slow, deliberate, her steps nearly silent over the rain. The sensors confirmed a single contact ahead, human, Force-rich, cutting through what was left of an Imperial patrol.

A Jedi or something close enough.

Her grip loosened slightly as she paused at the mouth of the ruined street, the crimson light of her HUD reflecting off the slick surface of her armor.

For now, she simply watched.

Then she moved forward, toward the center of Jar'Kai, where the rain fell heavy and the firelight turned the storm red.

TAG:

Reina Daival

Reina Daival · 2025-10-16T00:42:35-0400

Tag:

Aselia Verd
Outfit

Why. Why did they have to be here? Mandalorians. Bucketheads. Beskar Babies. And why did they have to be attacking the Empire? If they had been attacking Jar'Kai, Reina would have had an excuse to act on her prejudices. She had never met a decent Mandalorian. They were all cruel killers. Who picked on the innocent and walked as if they owned the Galaxy because of some shiny tin can armour. Yet here she was, being proven wrong as they seemed to be helping at least some of the refugees they came across. Blast it!

If there was anyone who was a cruel killer, it was her. Staring down into the puddle that showed her own distorted reflection, blood staining her face, dripping off her blade. This wasn't what a Jedi was meant to be. It wasn't what a Knight should be. A Knight rode in clad in shining armour, bringing light alongside them. If anything, Reina was more of a devil in this moment, relishing in this hell. Because that was what she had been doing. Giving into her anger. As much as she thought it was directed towards the right people, she had literally proven herself wrong with her thoughts. The way she had wanted to be given an excuse to attack the Mandalorians. It was a thirst for blood and violence that she was refusing to quench.

No. Instead she had to go against that thirst. That urge. So Reina just wordlessly watched watched the Mandalorian move forward. Direct her anger towards those who had deserved it. This Mandalorian hadn't done anything to deserve Reina's anger. Not yet at least. Instead the Ersansyr gave a short nod of acknowledge. No words. She didn't need to nor want to talk in this moment. It would be wasted breath that could be better spent dealing with the Empire...Wait. No. She had been getting off track. Another sign of how much her aggression had grown out of control from the storm roaring both internally and externally.

She was meant to be searching for Ayame's family. Not taking out her brand of justice against the Empire. Even as explosions went off, screeching through the sky, she couldn't let herself lose focus on why she was here. No. She'd move with the Mandalorian. That was her plan for now. If she continued to go on this alone, she was sure that she'd end up falling to her own aggression. And if she thought about it...Well, the enemy of her enemy was an ally. Not necessarily a friend...but this would be fine by her. Swinging her blade through the air to clean off the blood before marching on forward. This was teaching Reina one key thing. She had plenty to meditate on and to come to terms about herself.

: Means written/typed communication : < Means Sign Language communication >

Franceline Dawer · 2025-10-16T05:49:55-0400

Junko Ike said:
"Tell her what you told me, we will send it to the people who will listen." He said it and remained there on the side while looking over the hardlight map.

Twisting uncomfortably in place, Dawer's irregular breathing proved to be an obstacle in her trying to get her point across, but in front of someone who could help her at last, she tried anyway. Rubbing the underside of her jaw, about where her tonsils were, she started to repeat the warning she had previously told the detective whilst they had been in the tower.

"...We are..."

"...Being orbited..."

-A break. She rubbed her neck, trying to displace phlegm and mucous that had been flowing in her throat abundantly, due to the fires and their many deadly inhalants which she had been exposed to earlier-

"Space station, massive laser. It fired... earlier. It will fire again."

"Designed to destroy, it will not be soaked up by the shield. Concentrated on a single point, not a bomb. The energy runoff from the shield, stopping the laser, will fry everyone above surface alive."

"If shield... turned off... plate tectonics absorb... spread the heat evenly, over the planet's round shape. No harm, no foul."

She didn't have enough energy to cry, or even groan anymore. Her whimpers were progressively growing quieter and quieter, hoping only to soon be lulled into a state of unconsciousness by her body. It would be a mercy. Alack, she kept her eyes open. Saying this them, again, took priority over allowing herself to collapse. It was that important to her.

Junko Ike

Zark San Tekka · 2025-10-16T10:26:37-0400

THE SPIRE
JAR'KAI

Matsu Ike

"Has he been disarmed?" San Tekka eyed the datapad with suspicion, "So be it then. Send him to me."

Mass driver shells echoed far below the Spire like distant thunder. Heavy duracrete crumbled during the counterassault transforming cultural landmarks into ruins as well as filling the streets of Jar'Kai with enough smoke and ash to create a new cloud line. It gave the impression that the Spire was floating among the heavens if not for the true tempest above their heads.

Laphisto said:
"General Zark San Tekka ping received. Walkers en route now. be advise Lilaste order FOB has been encircled. we can provide support fopr now but if our boys need us we will pull back to rienforce them"

"Understood, Iron Fang. Do what you can and I'll send a request for the Alliance's Boxer Company to relieve you."

He turned from the tactical holodisplay just in time to witness the arrival of the Spire's equivocal guest. Master Zark barely resembled a Jedi in his traditional Hirata cuirass gleaming with lesser krayt dragon scales. All expression concealed under a furious looking oni mask carved from jade wood as if he were just another faceless stormtrooper.

Michael Barran said:
'I was told one Zark San Tekka was appointed command-authority here, my only intention is to help, in any way I can.'

"Lord-Captain," not even Jedi training could keep the disdain from his voice, "It has been a long time."

It was a curious start for two men who had never exchanged words before. San Tekka's memory was long however, and he clutched Barran's known service record in one of his gauntlets. This was not their first encounter.

"We met in battle during your father's desecration of Ilum."

While his armor looked Atrisian, the lightsaber on Zark's belt was a far more traditional design. For a moment the Force moved darkly through the Jedi as if he might draw it with the intent to kill. Beneath the Dragon banner anything seemed possible. Then the feeling faded as it was buried under a sense of absolute calm. Instead of reaching for his lightsaber the Jedi pointed at the looming holoimage of Jar'Kai between them.

"There are multiple breaches, but we are holding the Imperial advance-" his demon mask shifted in discomfort, "-the enemy advance near the inner walls for now. Jedi strike teams and the Royal Guard are still holding on their flank at the Temple of Healing here," Zark gestured to the city's medical center, "Shock troops have gained a beachhead at the base of this fortress. They must not be allowed to ascend."

A new star dawned over Atrisia. Frantic voices sent transmissions into orbit requesting confirmations, but San Tekka already knew. He heard the voices crying out in terror before all those souls were silenced.

"Surik's Blade," he whispered again in horror, "That's the Mon Mothma."

They were running out of time.

Royal Military and Alliance remnant troopers fall back from the Spire's lower levels.
Preparations are being made to defend the shield generators from the stormtrooper spearhead.

Daro Kilaeon · 2025-10-16T20:12:16-0400

		
TAGS
ALLIES:
			 
		Kasan Osera
 / 
			 
		Franceline Dawer
 / 
			 
		Darth Bellum
 / 
			 
		Kroeger
 / 
			 
		St. Thomas Barran
 / 
			 
		Sahar
ENEMIES: 
			 
		Junko Ike
 / 
			 
		Zark San Tekka
 / 
			 
		Michael Barran
 / 
			 
		Laphisto
​
I pushed myself hard up the stairs at the squad leader's command. We all did, out of some sick sense of self preservation, knowing full well we would die if we stayed in the lobby. I wanted to ask why so badly, but there was no time, and no voice in my head to ask it. My thoughts just cycled between the next step up the stairs, and the all-consuming feeling that this was it... the end. They said heaven had a stairway, didn't they?

The whole building shook, but I couldn't slow down, the next soldier behind me was right on my heels, just as I was trailing the poor bastard in front of me, who was behind the guy in front. The echo of boots bounced through the stairwell, growing louder. Above us I heard the jabbering of Atrisians, and I gripped my gun tighter. The blaster bolts flew down the stairwell from a few floors above. The stormtrooper at the spearhead of our ascent bit it with a blaster to the dome, tumbling to the stairs. I practically jumped over him to get up, then fired my own blaster wildly upwards with the hope of hitting something. 

When we got to the next landing, the trooper in front of me began to spray his blaster. On the next landing above, one flight of stairs to separate us, was a squad of Alliance soldiers. The echo of descending boots was getting louder. We began to exchange fire, but it was over quicker than it started. The guy next to me was gunned down, and I broke. We were hemmed in, from above and from below. Turning from the stairs as fast as I could I ducked through the door of the floor, just barely catching the number 6 printed on the wall. 

"IN HERE!" I beckoned to the rest of the Stormtroopers, "WE HAVE TO FIND ANOTHER WAY!" 

I was seeing red as I charged into the corridor. We were only a fraction of the way up the spire, surrounded. Was this how it was always meant to be? The drop pods, the lack of organization... had we been conscripted just to be used in a suicide charge? Were we going to die in this building just to buy a little time? The thoughts wracked my brain, the idea of us actually reaching the shield generator seeming like a fantasy...

Annihilation The Imperial March

Thread Chapters

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St. Thomas Barran

"Omen of Durace"

Wymar

Penitent

Sahar

Forsaken

Aselia Verd

Character

Pal Veda

Action Hero

Reina Daival

The Aegis Mermaid

St. Thomas Barran

"Omen of Durace"

Kyric

Whispers on the Wind

Laphisto

High Commander of the Lilaste Order

Junko Ike

Baifa Monü Zhuan

Aselia Verd

Character

Reina Daival

The Aegis Mermaid

Franceline Dawer

LABOUR FOR THE EMPEROR AND THE CELESTIAL COURT

Zark San Tekka

defy the tyrannous stars

Daro Kilaeon

war is hell

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