The Silver Lining [Empire's Dominion of the Lyran IV System]

[Aram Kalast]

​

| LYRAN IV |​

There was nothing to this world.

The farmers and growers of this planet had for many years served the old Confederacy, gifting foodstuff and substance to the masses that were once held under the corrupted and falsified government. The tariffs that had been set by their masters had nearly run the planet dry, a flat expanse of nothing where even the hardest of produce would refuse to set and grow. Yet through the determination of those who had called the planet home for generations and the removal of the Confederate tariffs Lyran IV became once more fertile.

It was a touching story to be sure, but each planet in the galaxy had one just as heroic or honourable. The Empire had come not to hear tales of farmers and myths, no they had come to make Lyran IV bend the knee. Much like the Confederacy had once before the planet had been looked upon as a resource more important then all the cloning tanks on Kamino, for each of the produced clones and every other citizen of the Empire needed one thing that Lyran IV had in abundance.

Food.

Yet Lyran IV had been privy to decline the peaceful offers of protection and governance that had been offered by the Emperor, instead preferring to hold resources to trade for personal profit making offers that the Empire couldn’t in their state refuse. All the while the Empire having to watch as these farmers ripped billions of credits out of the Imperial treasury in order to feed a ever growing war effort in the distant reaches of the galaxy. Their military might held in check by the regulations of treaties and galactic opinion.

Lyran IV’s protection however had all but disappeared. Imperial Intelligence had reported that amongst the green fields and glistening cities of the planet a cadre of Antarian Rangers had taken refuge of their exile. Fleeing from the Imperialist Removal of the Silver Order, this group of outlawed guns for hire had been welcomed in and given shelter. The Emperor however would give no such allowance and with the eyes of the galaxy on the fronts of war within the Alliance, the Empire arrived at Lyran IV in force to remove this group of Jedi sympathisers and bring order to the planet to avoid true rebellion taking root ever again.

 

[Corric Tassadar]

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THEME​

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Gorgon on a principle was primarily an offensive unit sent to backwater planets to cause as much havoc, chaos and on occasion, assassinate the man or woman with the biggest stick in sight. Operations where one needed to preserve the peace, crack down on insubordinate cities or to remind the people that the Imperium didn't take kindly to rebellious thoughts was generally left to Minotaur, Gorgon's infamous brother.

He snorted, zooming into the idyllic town some five kilometers away from the ridge. That didn't mean Tartarus wasn't going to send them to do Minotaur's job anyway. The official explanation was that all of Minotaur's units were already deployed on multiple fronts, pulling double duty with hardly any overtime or hazard pay. It was a poor life, poor profession and generally a thankless job. He glanced behind, peeling away from his macrobinoculars; the three others were busy prepping with their new toy. He remembered two things about what they had: that it wasn't going to reach the town from five kilometers away, and that it was going to be how they announced their presence. Orbital strike was a no-go until they found their target.

Nobody said anything about a squad-level fire support asset though.

Corric returned to his observations and dully noted the population of the town; somewhere around 1000 to 1500. It wasn't big, but in regards to the rest of the settlement they saw enroute to their current position? It was humongous for now. Some ten, fifteen kilometers was the nearest city and potentially where the biggest group of prey was based. It didn't mean that whoever they were hunting wasn't hiding amongst the outskirts either. Their entry route was through the fields of tall, ripe corn and various other growing foodstuffs that fed the town and the nearby settlements: food being Lyran IV's primary export, it wasn't unnatural to see vistas completely devoid of anything but stalks of corn and other organic foodstuff. It also concealed their approach incredibly well. He snorted to himself again.

Up to a certain point, it wasn't going to help, what with their prey being incredibly special and all. Gorgon had their orders though, but their orders also mentioned that the entire planet was suspect.

Returning to a crouched position, he moved away from the ridge and retrieved his helmet from his side, crawling back to his team. "Get ready to move out, sun's going to be setting in three hours time and I want this thing to start the moment nightfall reaches. Long way to march, Gorgon."

[member="DT-2319"] | [member="Isaac Stover"] | [member="Mark Hawkins"]​

 

[Aram Kalast]

Against the black backdrop of space, the giant grey masses that was the Imperial 3rd Fleet were like silent moons in orbit of the green planet below. Moons that held within them the very fate of every man, woman, child and alien on that planet below them within each individual commander’s hands. The blockade had been set easily, the Lyranians having no standing military to even question the Imperial Star Destroys moving into position around the planet.

In mere hours troop divisions had been dispatched from the interior of their hulking transports, legions of clone-troopers and support vehicles now amassing at designated zones with every intent on assuming control of whatever government did run the lawless backwater. Naturally the Inquisition and Intelligence had also been present, dispatched in secret to take over certain theatres where the Antarian, and by extension Jedi presence could possibly be.

In every aspect the blockade had begun and would hopefully end as easily.

“All communications have been blocked from the planet as requested Sir.” The announcement allowed Aram, who had not moved from his position at the bridge of his ship since arriving in system, to take a breath. “There will be no escape for them now.” The other officer fell into line next to Aram and smirked towards the planet. “Pathetic backwater, times like this make we wish that the Emperor would just build a deathstar and get rid of these unwavering traitors.”

“If we blew up each of these pathetic backwaters who would be left for you to lord over?” Aram spoke in his usual tone, to the point and commanding without ever having to really get a raise. He ignored the sudden remove of smirk. “It’s people like you that made the Emperor bring me back into this service.” He turned his head ever so slightly.

The officer went red in the face, his moustache twitching. “I, ah, people like me?”

“To use the term frankly. An idiot.” Aram motioned towards the great planet beyond. “That planet there once fed a galactic power many more sizes larger then what territory the Emperor’s finest have managed to liberate into the Empire for him. It is capable of doing that because it is one of the most successful agricultural worlds in the galaxy, yet you would destroy it, rather then seek its resource?”

“The rebels would learn that they could not take residence so close to our great Empire if we could just demonstrate some muscle.” Clearly Aram had managed to strike a cord with the ageing officer, who until Aram had come aboard had held them helm for many years.

“Was Scarif not a demonstration?” Aram asked with a raise of his eyebrow. “A tyrannical Moff who was so concerned with showing a demonstration to a band of rebels that he would sacrifice every Imperial life on the planet?” He paused and let the silence fill the bridge. “No, this world is to be used to feed the lives of the crew who will get to make such a demonstration. When that happens I promise you will be right at the front and centre to witness the true effects of such a decision.”

“I…ah.” A finger ran between his neck and collar, loosening it slightly. “I suppose it is more important then most backwaters then.”

“I suppose so.” He had won, not that he ever intended not to. “Have the shuttles prepared and my armour brought to my quarters. It is time we started these…negotiations.” He turned, the news that some where on the planet a governing council had been acquired, people who would in time sign over every square inch of the surface to the Empire.

 

[Seto du Couteau]

Arms stretched high and Seto breathed in and out to relax himself, as his transport finishing its decent to the planet's surface. Unfortunately the trip down was filled with silence, to which Seto wasn't sure to attribute it to his very presence among the troops or maybe nobody had anything to talk about. More like the formal if I have to bet Seto thought wearily, noting the distance between himself and the rest of the troops. The shuttle landed and a snap hiss the ramp lowered, allowing the Imperial might to move out and begin their military occupation.

Seto quickly moved past the wave of white armor of Stormtroopers as he maneuvered into a larger clearing and to give Seto himself room to breath the fresh air. The city outskirts had hosts of people running and quickly moving to whatever shelter they could find. Seto stretched out his senses with the Force and allowed himself to sense the fear rising among the citizens of this city. Fear, the majority that Seto felt was fear but he could also sense resentment and anger slowly build up. Seto relaxed his senses as he began to move into the city, not following the Stormtrooper's march instead choosing to work his own way through the many streets and alleys where Seto felt the most anger, but also confidence towards.

Electing to wear his Inquisitor robes and light armor, Seto knew he would stick out like a soar thumb with all the black but because of that he wanted the bravest fools to come and attack him when alone in some alley or street. From there, Seto figured, he could slowly begin rooting out the smarter rebels that decided to flee and not take action against him or the Imperial forces marching towards their government buildings. Already out of earshot from the Imperial boots marching, Seto found himself walking through an empty street. But not without people nearby Seto felt more fear surrounding him, it would take some effort on his part focus past the emotion of hundreds of civilians but anger was an emotion Seto knew he would find no trouble in detecting.

[member="Aram Kalast"]
Actions: Be Inquisitive

 

[Taa Nul]

Capital City, Lyran IV

[Theme]​

The Empire had arrived in full force to secure Lyran IV, and with them arrived the Grand Inquisitor's very own fleet, Death Squadron, spearheaded by the Imperial flagship Pellaeon. The Pellaeon had entered the atmosphere, it's silhouette blotting out the sun as it hovered above the city below, dispatching squadrons of TIE Fighters and Bombers to begin their bombardment of Antarian Ranger and Jedi held positions below. The Imperial 501st Legion, supported by several armoured divisions and elements of the Imperial Special Forces had already made their landing at the outskirts of the city, meeting fierce resistance from the enemy held outer defences.

At the spearhead of the Imperial attack, The Grand Inquisitor himself, accompanied by a squad of Imperial Deathtroopers, as-well as a pair of "Saber Guardsmen" from one of his secretive cloning projects on Kamino, made their advance through a newly opened hole in the city's outer wall. Morcus strode through the thick of the battle unhindered, letting his Saber Guardsmen do much of the fighting so they might hone their skills. He reached into his robe, withdrawing his holographic communicator to contact Kalast. "We've made our breach in the city's outer defences. These Antarian Rangers are more organised than I thought they'd be given the circumstances. It matters little, however. My legion will secure this entry point and await your arrival."

[member="Aram Kalast"]
[member="Seto Du Couteau"]
[member="Corric Tassadar"]

 

[Isaac Stover]

​"No no no no, you put it on the baseplate like that and you'll turn the entire frakking thing into a pipe bomb when it fires! Ugh, just give it here." The irritation in the voice of Gorgon's resident demolitions expert was apparent as he took the mortar tube from the squad's rifleman, DT-0911. Disconnecting and flipping around a component on the bottom of the tube, Isaac slid it back into place and attached it to the baseplate. Snapping the bipod into position, Isaac took a step back nd inspected the piece of death-lobbing hardware. The blasted thing had been broken down beyond its main three components for some forsaken reason, and so Isaac had seen to it that it was reassembled before they made the final push into the target area.

​Satisfied that it was now ready for use, Isaac removed the bipod and baseplate, passing both to DT-0911 before maglocking the tube itself to his backplate alongside the hardcase full of shells he already had there. Scooping up and donning his helmet, Isaac turned to face Corric just as he addressed the squad, giving a curt nod in response. "BEAESNEOOETIOSPPPREEDDARYMVTURXXXXXMTROARH."

[member="Corric Tassadar"]
​[member="Mark Hawkins"]
​[member="DT-2319"]

 

[Mark Hawkins]

Mark stood in place as he had what was the main tube pulled out of his hands, giving a an honest look of "What The Fek.." at his senior enlisted. Standing up as 24' continued to grumble about explosives, and how stupid Mark was, even though Mark hadn't so much as begun to put the tube on, let alone examine whether everything was as it should be.

"I didn't even do anything.." he said before being handed the re-disassembled pieces of mortar.

"You're gonna be a pain in my side aren't you.." straightening up to attention, Mark waited while 24' addressed the squad leader.

"Let's see how you fair at ruckin' mister explosion. That's what separate's the men from the boys." he said happily picking up his gear. He made sure to maglock what he could to his armor, anything else would be carried in arm.

 

[Seto du Couteau]

City Outskirts

The sounds of battle could be heard as Seto continued his walk, the distant scream of TIE fighters and bombers brought life to the sky. And ending some on the ground Seto's morbid humor often getting the better of him, in his most honest opinion the best one could do was laugh when facing death. A laugh escaped Seto's mouth as kept up his walk, stretching out as far as he could with the Force, fear and resentment mixed with anger and courage. Here we go Seto mused as he stopped in a middle of another alley, the buildings around him were apartment complexes and several windows were opened.

Seto raised up his right hand, holding onto his lightsaber and a blaster bolt hit the weapon, the weapon spiraling towards the ground. A bemused expression was plastered on Seto's face, the attack wasn't much of a surprise but he did make sure to deflect the bolt with the Force so his saber would not take any damage. He looked around as what Seto would guess were the Rangers surrounding him, their blasters all raised and aimed directly at the young Du Couteau heir. One of the lead Rangers approached him, his blaster rifle unwavering and aimed directly at Seto's head.

"You know, I was surrendering," Seto explained, eyeing the lead Ranger and keeping a charming smile for the Ranger.

"Yeah, and your lightsaber was suppose to be the white flag? Don't play tricks with me Sith!" The Ranger responded, the anger seethed and radiated around him.

"I was going to give it to you-" Seto started, slightly elongating the 'you'.

"Lieutenant Barnes, and don't be coy with me Sith," Barnes responded, "We've got ten good men here, all crack shots and with a lot of resentment aimed at the Empire, so don't try anything," Barnes explained.

Seto chuckled, "It's quite alright really, I'm just here to exchange a few words and possibly make a deal with your leader-" Seto spoke, turning his head to look at the rangers surrounding him, "- I mean, you're not going to shoot an unarmed man? That doesn't sound like the Jedi way, also please call me Seto, I'm not much of a Sith anyways," Seto added, his smile never wavering as he focused his attention back at Barnes.

Barnes to his credit only growled but whistled with a gesture, an order most likely because Seto felt two rangers roughly cuffed his hands behind his back. They shoved him forward and Seto began his walk behind Barnes, the smile slightly growing smaller, "So, does this mean I get to meet with your leaders?" Seto asked.

Almost immediately Barnes swiveled to face Seto and with the barrel pressed hard against Seto's chest the Lieutenant Ranger growled "Listen Sith, those bombers are destroying the homes of innocent civilians and many of the men you see here live here, so if you don't want a hole between your eyes I would watch your mouth!"

Seto smiled and nodded, "Again, name's Seto, and you should be fortunate that the Empire is committing ground forces instead of simply glassing the planet from orbit-" Seto explained, "You should also all count yourself lucky for meeting me, as I said before I'm a not really a Sith and only want to talk about a deal for your leaders and by extension all of you Rangers," Seto added with a small laugh.

The Lieutenant simply growled and huffed, signaling towards his men to continue moving, Seto in tow towards what the Inquisitor could only guess be towards one of their command posts. Walking into a Nexu's den Seto thought wearily, his fingers twitching behind his back, Too bad for the Nexu, a Krayt Dragon is approaching in a form of a man.

Actions: Making new Friends and about to learn more about them

 

[Imperial Storyteller]

"Dagobah certainly went the wrong way."

"Indeed, the Moff Council has been growing restless recently, they call for the blood of our adversaries."

"Not an unreasonable request, but there are more important matters that the Empire should attend too."

"Like what, Reginald?"

The blue visage of the grand moff furrowed his brows, a small look of concern breezing across his features like a ghost as he gazed at his old friend.

"While the Galaxy's eyes were glued to the powder keg that is the Sluis sector, and while you and Gromm were off galavanting with a moderate portion of the Imperial military." Emperor Kardal began, with a small tone of mock disappointment, "Aram and I were busying ourselves with constructing ISB cells all throughout the Outer Rim."

Graf smirked at this "Anything worth nothing?" He asked, clasping his hands behind his back. "Quite so, Tanomas, the 'Metal Lords' have disbanded due to their inability to create something that even resembles a government. The Iron Empire has collapsed, they were short on time and had been stagnant for a while now." Kardal informed with a glint of malice in his eyes "But the most interesting thing is that the Confederacy is preparing for war, as is young Varik Ice's 'Sovereignty'."

Both of the old men audibly chuckled at this notion, before Tanomas spoke again, "Very well, then. I will tell Gromm to refrain from any major campaigns in Alliance territory while we shore up our defences for the inevitable, Caalgen's already working on something I've heard. I assume you will be continuing with our expansion deeper into Wild Space?" Kardal nodded in acknowledgement, watching as Graf gave one final smirk before his hologram disappeared.

The Emperor turned, opening the door into the cockpit. His personal pilot looked back and bowed her head in respect, awaiting the command from the monarch.

"Set your course for Lyran IV."

 

[Adron Malvern]

Location: Unknown
Vessel: Emperor’s personal transport shuttle
Objective: Defend the Emperor

Adron’s absence had not gone unnoticed in the ranks of the Empire, most especially the Moff council. Displeased with his actions he was ordered to return to his duties as High Moff and Captain of the Emperor’s guard. Even the Emperor himself seemed to notice Adron’s lengthy absence. Though he had not yet commented on it, Adron could sense the displeasure coming from his monarch. He sat silently with a squad of the Imperial Guard’s finest. Clad in the crimson armor of their station, they stood unmoving and silent as a grave.

Adron, whose eyes were closed in meditation, was the only member of the guard not clad in their ceremonial uniform. Instead he wore the garb of his station as a Moff, yet the red cord that ran from his chest to his arm identified him as the Guard’s Captain.

The Emperor was currently in the middle of a Holocall with the Grand Moff, likely discussing the future of the Empire. Once the call had ended, the Emperor’s voice could be heard, calling for their departure to Lyran IV. A planet soon to be under the Empire’s control, it was yet a place for the Emperor to safely travel to, hence the larger number of his guard.
[member="Imperial Storyteller"]

 

[Seto du Couteau]

Location: Underground, One of the Antarian Rangers Hideout
Objective: Demand Surrender

Pushed along for a bit over ten minutes Seto found himself beneath the city, not that he could visibly confirm his location but he could feel himself walking underground. The air became stale, the footsteps echoed and most importantly the bombing raids were felt rather than heard. The apprehension that Seto could sense from the rangers around him was a welcome feeling but they also had a sense of determination. Seto wondered what sort of stories the rangers listened about Sith and Imperial Inquisitors, perhaps they even knew more about the Sith than Seto. A laugh escaped his lips, despite a barrel pressed into Seto's back, he couldn't help himself but be amused. They're probably unnerved by my attitude, I'd be too if I captured a laughing moron Seto mused wearily.

The group continued their walk through the underground passage before Seto finally heard a door open and was pushed and shoved into a chair. The hood now removed, Seto blinked to adjust to a rather dimly lit room, the rangers all stationed around the edges of the room with the Lt. Barnes standing at attention next to Seto.

"So, Sith, you wanted to talk? Let us talk," A new voice began, Seto offered a smile and nod in response. "The name is Captain, and only Captain," Captain added, his eyes narrowed with focus.

Seto nodded, "I'm honored Captain, certainly we can have an excellent discussion," Seto responded, before leaning forward to get closer to the Captain. "Now I'm sure you know this planet has only hours before everybody is forced to bend the knee to the Empire," Seto added. "So? Will I be able to accept your surrender?" Seto asked.

The Captain only gave Seto a determined look, A shame, I was hoping for more emotion, "The Rangers and this planet will not kneel so easily, and the Empire will bleed," The Captain growled out. There we go, now there's the anger.

"Well, I guess the terms of your surrender does match with what I intended to give-" Seto began, now leaning back as he pushed the chair slightly. Each ranger kept their focus on Seto, "-I'll accept your surrender, including you men, now." Seto finished.

The Captain gave a confused look but before another word could be uttered Seto kicked the table at the Captain. The Force built up in both his palms tore apart the cuffs and the launched a Force push to either side of Seto, knocking the Rangers and Lt. Barnes back and on the ground. Seto jumped forward and launched himself towards the Captain, using the Force to break the Table in half and Seto dashed through the opening.

The Captain to his credit pulled out his blaster and tried to aim it at Seto's head, but Seto grabbed the man's throat with Seto's right hand. Seto's left hand was outstretched behind him, calling forth his lightsaber. The saber was ripped from the Lt. Barnes's belt, its crimson blade illuminated the room with a deadly red hue. The saber sliced through the Captain's body, allowing Seto now the opportunity to deal with the rest of the Rangers.

Seto's smile was long gone, now replaced with a grim determined look, his saber and the Force surrounding him.

 

[Vrapir Detta]

Vrapir was excited, it was his last combat mission for the foreseeable year. He had fought on Scarif, Kamino, and Dagobah, and Lyran IV would be his last combat mission as part of a fleet stormtrooper complement. Once Lyran IV had been cleared of Antarian rangers, Vrapir would be sent for garrison duty on Tatooine. It'd be a six month deployment and then he'd be promoted to sergeant and he would go back to a combat unit. Although Vrapir loved his Empire, and there was nothing like the battlefield, the stormtrooper was happy to be taking a break. Tatooine was no resort center, and the blistering heat wouldn't be enjoyable, but Vrapir was exhausted of combat, he didn't care if it was Mustafar, he needed a break. Besides, he always heard such grand stories of villainy, larceny, and misadventures, perhaps Vrapir would get to witness one. Vrapir had also heard of how beautiful the binary sunset was, and he'd certainly enjoy that every evening.

Vrapir snapped out of his little daze, his unit had just unloaded off a transport, a relief unit for those fighting in the city. They were less than a kilometer away from the action around the walls. His unit's commander split the group into scattered squads of six, then they marched forward, ready to bring the attack against the Antarian Rangers.

 

[Chūichi Haasa]

○ - Theme - ○

○ - Aboard the INV 'Imperial Diplomacy' - ○
CO: Chūichi Haasa, CAPT | XO: Noval Tymon, CMDR
Outer Rim | Quiberon Sector | Lyran System

○ - Objectives - ○
○ - Aid in establishing control of the Lyran system - ○
○ - Aid in establishing orbital control of Lyran IV - ○
○ - Assist in providing support for [REDACTED] - ○

Where the Imperial 3rd Fleet cut a mighty and blatant figure wherever it traveled, it allowed a smaller force to move almost unnoticed.

The vessels of 4th Squadron, 4th Fleet came trailing in almost on the contrails left through the system by the larger fleet. On the holographic display they rode close enough that they were almost indistinguishable from one another save for command pips demarcating them as separate forces in a singular area. On a surface-based radar network? At the best they would be "invisible" and at the worst they would be mistaken as nothing more than a contingent of the 3rd's supporting assets. It wasn't until the 3rd had established its holding pattern that the squadron pulled 'down' and ahead of them into their own holding pattern.

The position meant that the squadron's smaller arsenal would have less distance to cross to its targets while still remaining within the protective envelope of the greater force. Simultaneously it also meant that they could play the sacrificial lamb against incoming surface fire: that many more kilometers of hull and shields between the shooter and the flagship. But, Chūichi thought with the ghost of a grin on his lips, it meant that he had the better view of it all as well. The 'horizon' of the planet cut a broad line across the bottom third of every window to the front of the bridge of the Imperial Diplomacy.

Commander Tymon drew his attention from the view with a crisp, "Sir, the squadron is reading green across the board and standing by for tasking."

He looked down to where she stood in the center of the bridge's 'command trench', "Very good, Number One. The plan of action is as follows: standard area security pattern. 'War Maiden' rides between 'Nobleman' and 'Diplomacy'. 'Circuit Burner' will ride in the shadow of the center and keep an ear out for major radio traffic on the planet's surface, with the other frigates holding at the flanks. And tell 'Coyote' and 'Fleetfoot' to stand by for priority tasking on my orders."

The command trench came abuzz with the sounds of sailors at their terminals starting away on new orders while the Commander piped back, "Aye sir, copy on all."

And as they settled in to position, a burst transmission was sent to a hopefully discrete and waiting recipient force somewhere below on the planet's surface.

A radio transceiver received simple broadcast: "Safari to Baker. On station."

 

[Corric Tassadar]

Hours Later . . . .​

​

​

​

Corric stood silently on the bluff, watching their fourth village burn with little satisfaction. So far Gorgon had expended the better of two ammunition cans on outlying settlements in hopes of provoking a response; he crunched a cigarette underfoot, shifting his stance.

Lyran IV was now under official planetary siege by the Imperials, and whatever presence the Rangers had on the planet was likely to be centralized around the major cities; not to disrespect their 'noble' cause, but a few villages was nothing to the lives of millions. The acrid smoke wafted upwards and he waved it away, scrunching up his nose.

Of course, nobody here really minded if nobody was shooting back at them except maybe the new guy: he stole a quick glance at the assistant gunner to '24. They seemed to get along well with each other. Just needed to slash their chatter by half, and he might just appreciate their camaraderie.

His helmet vibrated and sensing orders, he slid it back on, welcoming the calming HUD.

"Tartarus on priority hail for Gorgon: respond."

Though he didn't show it outwardly, Corric's heart nearly leapt out at the robotic, clinical voice that spoke: Tartarus rarely made voice calls. "Gorgon 1-1 responding, go ahead Tartarus."

There was a pause that seemed to go on that Corric wondered if Tartarus had left the channel. When the voice returned the officer relaxed his shoulders slightly. "Situation has changed."

"As you are aware, Lyran IV is under planetary siege. While ground forces have secured several landing sites, the enemy have secured a number of airbases to severely limit our forces mobility. As all local forces are tied up, it is up to Gorgon to secure Airbase Golf-One-"

A single red blip appeared 100 kilometers away the city along with a flood of damage estimates on Imperial air forces: the Antarians had made a butcher's killing on transports trying to off shore their payload. "NAVCOM is unwilling to pitch Tie Fighters on atmospheric duty against dedicated atmospheric fighters, and rightfully so. Thus it is up to Gorgon to assault and hold the air base."

He spoke up. "What's resistance look up to?"

"Negligible: Satellite imagery places the base garrison at two, three companies at most. No armor, although the enemy will definitely have air support. Therefor NAVCOM has attached Safari to your unit to provide orbital bombardment as soon as you disable local shield generators, which for the moment are disabled to allow their own fighters to knock out our craft."

Corric turned to his unit and gave the signal to pack up, fishing out a flare and sparking it. "We cannot emphasize any further on the critical nature of this operation: Get. That. Airbase."

"Understood."

​

THEME​

​

"Keep the damn thing stable!"

"I'm trying, I'm tryi-"

"'43, bogeys have our number-"

Corric cursed out loud as he unlocked himself from the transport seat- nearly falling out the back of the transport as it took another dive- and clambered to the cockpit of the transport, the sounds of alarms and countermeasures being deployed: the pilot was in bad shape, barely holding it together with a punctured lung, a piece of shrapnel lodged in his chest.

"How far."

A single statement that the pilot understood, glancing briefly at the map. "Eight clicks and closing, the bastards must have picked up our signal- frakking SAMs. . ." The officer shook the pilot roughly and the transport jerked roughly; regaining his consciousness, the Zabrak gave Corric a painful look.

"I'll try to get you as close as possible, try and land-"

The trooper cut him off roughly as he quickly signaled for his team to get up. "Negative, drop altitude as much as you can: we'll jump!" His eyes widened for a moment as he contemplated the suicidal maneuver. He nodded slowly first, then rigorously when the realization came that there was no better option. "God speed sir!"

Corric gave a quick salute before turning back to his unit, narrowly falling off again when the transport sharply dove. "Son of a-"

"'43-"

"Not now '19!"

From the open end of the shuttle, a white streak of smoke narrowly missed the craft- the scent of death filling the senses of the troopers: with a snap the straps broke apart, the unit's mortar case flying out of the back and smacking into '24 before breaking open.

Their world sharply returned to its horizontal plane- Corric's railing bent forward from his death grip but he was not alone. "We're a little over 100 m over a rocky pass-"

A roaring thunder smashed into the side of the craft, ripping out a gaping hole between the cockpit and the passenger bay. Fast winds shrieked as the shuttle begun to waver in its flight path: he didn't need to stay and ask.

"JUMP!"

The officer kicked the shins of those who tarried, glancing over his shoulder to spare their dead a respectful nod before kicking off the ramp.

---

​

---

[member="Isaac Stover"] | [member="Mark Hawkins"] | [member="DT-2319"] | [member="Chūichi Haasa"]​

 

[Imperial Storyteller]

Emperor Kardal let the cockpit blast door close with a hydraulic hiss, his pilot already altering their course to head to the Empire's latest target of conquest. He pivoted on the spot and made his way to the crew cabin where [member="Adron Malvern"] and several members of his guard detachment waited patiently, the former enthralled in meditation. Personally, the monarch never understood the lengths certain people went to connect with their Force, but that didn't stop him nor Graf from harnessing their power to amplify the Empire's military.

He entered gracefully, his guards acknowledging his presence silently, wearing a military uniform concealed partially by a very well-made trench coat instead of his usual regal robes. "High Moff Malvern..." The Emperor began, clasping his hands behind his back, his voice like silk but his words like venom "I am rather pleased that you could join me on this fine occasion; after all, it has been quite a while since you last graced the Council with your presence."

Kardal sat himself down near the younger man, retrieving a datapad from a table next to him and glancing over it a few times. "I was beginning to fear that my recommendation had gone to waste on someone who had so easily forgotten their place as governor of the Bothawui sector and captain of my guard. Some of your governors on a system-level have been more than eager to step forward to take your place..." He continued, his eyes looking upward into Malvern's own, full of reproach and...surprisingly...humour.

 

[Adron Malvern]

Location: Unknown
Vessel: Emperor’s personal starship
Objective: Defend the Emperor

​The moment the Emperor showed himself to the Imperial Guard, Adron had opened his eyes, breaking his connection with the shifting nether of the Force. Behind him, the members of the Imperial Guard tensed, offering their Emperor a silent salute that only he could decipher.

​Once the Emperor approached, Adron fell to his knees, his eyes turned to the ground as he responded to the man. "My Emperor." He said, acknowledging him with a tone hushed in respect. As the leader of the Imperial Guard, Adron was supposed to be the utmost loyal to the Empire and it's monarch. Of course, the man's absence had left a sour taste in Emperor Kardal's mouth. While the Emperor spoke, Adron rose to his feet, clasping his arms behind his back as he listened closely.

​"My absence was necessary for me to better serve the Empire, your majesty." He said, his eyes remaining fixed as he spoke, showing the truth behind his words.

​"And if any of my Governors could serve the Bothawui sector better than me, they would be High Moff, and I would be a Governor." Even the slightest hint of challenge had manage to flood through his words, showing he had little tolerance for rivals.

[member="Imperial Storyteller"]

 

[Imperial Storyteller]

Kardal gave a chuckle at Malvern's comment, grinning at the younger man, "Spoken like a true politician. You're quite right about that." The Emperor praised "I personally do not mind your absence, but it makes you look weak in the eyes of your allies and rivals alike, uncaring of the situation at hand." He stopped, bringing a small crystal tumbler full of an amber liquid to his lips "There's a reason Tanomas Graf always led a battle in person instead of from behind a hologram, and it wasn't because of his pride." The old man hinted.

"The grand moff's practical application of politics has always been a favourite within the government, but that alone was not enough to bind together so many people of differing backgrounds." Emperor Kardal revealed, "You could be the most powerful man in the Galaxy, but if you lacked the ability, the charisma, to drive others to follow you and to keep them, then your cause is all for nought."

He was interrupted by the slight lurch of the ship as it departed from Hyperspace, signalling that the party had arrived at their destination: Lyran IV. The Emperor's vessel, a heavily armed YE-4 Gunship, was joined by two TIE/LN Fighters almost immediately. Kardal stood, moving forward to gaze out of the viewports as they glided past the monolithic formation of Imperial star destroyers, part of the blockading Third Fleet.

Entering the atmosphere of the planet, the starfighters would manoeuvre away when they approached the Pellaeon. The monarch gave a slight smile "Graf's pride, and one of Caalgen's greatest accomplishments." He beamed "Newly repaired after the Alliance's own supreme commander foolishly rammed their flagship into it. I believe Lord Morcus is expecting us."

[member="Adron Malvern"] | [member="Lannis Morcus"]

 

[Aram Kalast]

The giant shadow of the star destroyer had taken up residence across much of the visible landscape. It was a reminder that even with the blockade controlling space the Empire’s reach was vast and across the entirety of the planet.

Aram had lowered it while the onboard legion was being deployed so that they would have immediate support from the star destroyer should they encounter any form of resistance, however as yet nothing had been launched by the local forces towards his own.

“Alert the Emperor that we are ready to launch our attack upon the main settlement, we shall have full surrender by sunset.” He issued to a communication officer who ran off to send the message.

 

[FullWrench3828]

(IGNORE)

 

[Mark Hawkins]

"So. 24. What's your story?" He cleared his throat. The idea of what his new squadmates story kept his mind off the situation. It was something he'd used back in the 501st in order to keep his head on straight. Connecting with one's brothers and sisters in arms was always a good idea. Morale was always a big part of what made a squad successful, let alone a company or battalion, but as a deathtrooper, that camaraderie felt shifted, and alien almost. Granted, he was still new to the unit, but he was invested all the same. It was when the red lights turned on, and the ship rocked with a new hole in the side, that dropped his focus on niceties, and back to the mission.

Mark spared no time umbucklimg for the last minute jump from the crashing craft. It was very apparent that Osik was thoroughy hitting the fan, and he wanted no part of its spray. Sprinting out with the small amount of floor available, Mark was the second to last out the door, his other higher ranked squad mates ahead of him in jump order, making sure to grab a piece of the falling debris on his way out, and maglocking his boots to it like board.

"Brings back memories!" He said with a smile, his focus also on maneuvering himself for a good break to his fall.

"Airborne, hooah!" Wasting no time, he looked about the terrain below, seeing a desert, and oriented himself for the top of a high dune. Keeping nearly vertical, as he touched the top pf the dine, and its arc easing his momentum, even if roughly, he coasted down it like it were snow.

"This is certainly a first." He said unloading his rifle on the enclosing enemies. When he reached the bottom, already having taken contact, and taking down enemy troopers, he stopped behind a pointed boulder, several other rock formations within the dunes bleeding into hard rock hills.

"Resistence heavy, I'm spotting 3 light walkers, and a tank covered by infantry. Bad line of sight. Well dug position. Advise pincer attack for effect."