The Winter War

[Tanomas Graf]

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The shrill sound of a whistle pierced through the polar air, followed by an uproar of hundred upon thousands of voices all shouting in unison.

Then the earth beneath their feet began to tremble as those hundreds upon thousands began to charge forth towards their enemy, the rumble of an oncoming battle becoming ever apparent to the poor souls manning the defences. Bolts from repeating blasters raced from the enemy trenches, tearing through columns of Imperial infantry as they ran across the icy battlefield to meet their maker. A few dozen troopers were sent to an early grave, but the gaps they created in the mass assault were quickly replaced by equally courageous beings.

Their pitiful attempt at defence was all for nought, the Imperial army troopers flooding into the trench like water into a ditch, the close proximity making firing off a blaster nearly impossible, both sides settling their small skirmish with the butts of their rifles, unsheathed vibroknives, or even their gloved fists. Soon enough, the man-made crevice was free of opposition, the victors gladly entrenching themselves, for it would only become more difficult the further they went.

They had their orders from the High Chancellor himself, to be abided by until the siege walkers arrived:

Not one step back.

 

[Arahael]

The tight quarters proved to be both a hindrance and a boon, with friendly troops and resistance alike in the midst of the trench. With carefully placed strikes, Max's lightsaber cleaved through the defenders. Steam rose through the freezing air around him from each strike. If the Byss were to rethink their resistance, now was certain to be a tantalizing time.

Shouting and clashing around him become duller, but the resulting bodies and blood were a testament to the struggle that they had just endured. As Max brought himself up over the trench slightly to see the rest of the fighting along the line, reports came over the comms "Gah, damn it! Some down the east end here, might need your help!"

"Closest platoon to them, move up. I'm on my way."

Going over the top would prove to be dangerous, no doubt many blasters were aimed in their direction. Instead, Max rushed directly down the line. With the troops focused on firing volleys at the enemies ahead, he had enough room to come quickly to the site of the struggle. At least, it was a struggle.

The platoon he had sent up made quick work of the resistors, and the last of them was attempting to run. As they came to a corner, a shot from one of the officers made quick work of them.

The officer turned, saluting loosely as he saw Max "East end is clear, Sir."

"Ah. Well. I see" Max cleared his throat "I'll just deal with the west end, then" he said, beginning to walk back.

"West end is clear too, Sir. A bit more of a fight, but done."

Max couldn't help but smirk in response "Always the west end, eh?"

 

[Cynthia Alucard]

Cynthia Alucard
Location: Byss, Forward Observation/Supply Station

Cold, snow, wind and utterly insufficient heat sources, all of this combined brought upon a steady frown upon Cyn's face. Though as her features demonstrated such an unamused feature, Cyn had to admit that it was certainly better to apart of the logistical side of this operation rather than attempting any flight missions under such extreme weather. Cyn had after all volunteered to personally write up a report on the potential presence of TIE support for ground assaults when air supremacy was not only given, but not even contested.

After all, young officers and future leaders must prove their worth in both high stressed environments and willing to challenge preconceived notions of warfare should opportunities of advancements of strategy and tactics present themselves. But, such advances in overall combat performances must first be compared to a control example. In truth, Cyn simply wished to impress her Superiors she was willing to take a moment away from the skies and stars and subject herself to ground operations just to allow herself a chance to understand how the other apertures of the military functions.

"No one said it would be this cold," Cyn muttered to herself, the winter clothing provided by the still fledgling Starfighter Corps were the bare minimal. In fact she learned that her specific winter coat was originally from the infantry. Hardly bothered the Wing Commander much of where her supplies were being requisitioned from, and more so she cared if her supplies worked. And this coat is more than passable, at least.

The wind continued to push freezing air, but for the moment Cyn paid more heed to the battle progressing a few kilometers away from the observation and logistic station. Much to Cyn's fascination, her eyes narrowed as throngs of infantrymen pushed forward and tore the trenches from their defender's grasp. She could not help but compare them to her TIE Pilots, even with advance technology available, a TIE Pilot still was only a TIE Pilot. Their lives, much like the lives of these infantrymen, were expandable and even with callous emotions such sacrifice always brought up old resentments within herself.

Cyn released a deep breathe, she looked away from the carnage of the battlefield and refocused on her data-pad. "-The use of Air/Space Support for Ground Forces, when under duress of heavy weather interference, shall. . ."

 

[Marriskcal Lati]

Lannik Hayes, World-Weary Stormtrooper
Equipment: Stormtrooper Armour, Vibrodagger, Blaster
Location: Polar Zone, Byss, Deep Core
Status: Cursing his life and his charge
Allies: [member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="Max Fel"] | [member="Cynthia Alucard"]

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To say that former First Order officer Lannik Hayes was disgruntled would be a severe understatement.

The past several days has been nothing but a clusterkark as far as he was concerned.

First, there was the word out in the air that the Ren has been culled, and only a few handful of them remained. He was willing to believe that it was merely a rumour until he saw the carefully solemn mien that the blonde had crafted for him when she came to inform his and the rest of his unit that she was being deployed to Sullust on a personal assignment.

He was concerned about her mental state, but what could a mere stormtrooper sergeant say when he knew that she was receiving orders from the highest authority? So, it was with much reluctance that he wished her well and joked that he and the rest of the unit will be practically be receiving paid leave without them needing to chase after her all over the conflict zone.

Then, he lost contact with her.

Throughout their professional relationship, he had noticed that the agent had issues when it comes to a great many things that came naturally to another person. And after working closely with her for several months, Lannik had also noticed that there were times where she seemed almost unfamiliar with protocols, rules, and even social norms. But despite her ignorance, he had never known Agent Lati to neglect replying to any communications from their unit.

After that came more rumours, and sick of the bullchit they were being fed and wanting to learn the truth from the young woman herself, Lannik found himself here, cold and miserable and doing his best to maintain his footing on the frozen ground while struggling to fight to the best of his ability.

Godkarking damn it!

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[IC-104]

IC-104 and squad charged with the rest of the men. Their super commando power armor providing warmth and protection from the bitter cold outside their phrik suits. They used jet packs to boost themselves forward into the fray. With serpentine like motions they dodged las rounds and other explosive projectiles. IC-104 couldn't help but feel for the regular infantry man, they would be hard pressed without jetpacks or proper air support. But, Enigma squad would not be in a much better position. They were forced to split up during the initial push on the enemy trench. Grouped up they made to big a target, even whilst dodging and weaving with thruster packs.

So, Chief ordered he and his brothers to split. While they didn't often do this, he knew their chances of survival depended on making as small a target as possible. With their jet packs packs the Commandos were one of the first to reach the enemy line. Chief sat outside a machine gun nest shielded by a embankment of snow. The staccato sound of gun fire could be heard from the LMG and Chief watched as it took out men in droves. He primed a grenade and threw it into the mouth of the nest. It exploded shortly afterwards and the gun fell silent. He charged over the top and into the trench to discover the enemy was all but dead. Having a moments respite he decided to contact squad and settle on rendezvous location.

Chief placed hand to his helmet's long range comms device and pressed a button. A small antennae extended from his helmet and boosted his communications.

"Squad, rendezvous at beachhead LudoKresh, you know the objective, take out as many of those big guns as you can!"

With that spoken Chief prepared to make his way west towards LudoKresh and squad. He stood and carefully opened the small emplacements makeshift door. It was a wonder the troopers hadn't come in after the grenade went off, but chief reasoned with the big guns barking perhaps they had mistaken the noise, but as chief peered out he was greeted by a cacophony of gun fire. one of the rounds striking his helmeted head and causing his HUD to go hay wire for a moment. He dove quickly behind cover as the makeshift door was chewed away. He armed another grenade and threw it out into the waiting trenches.

Their was a cry of "GRENADE" shortly followed by a muffled explosion. Chief quickly followed with his counter charge. The enemies scarcely had time to recover, as Chief was on them in a flash. With DC pistol he fired into the closest enemy as he was preparing to stand. The next advesary didn't even have time to fully register what had happened before it was all over for him. Chief jumped onto his back whilst he still lay on the ground and with knuckle blade he plunged it deep into the mans vertebrae, finishing him swiftly. Chief was getting near one of the guns, he could tell as the distant barks of artillery had come much closer.

Chief received a transmission that one Max Fel and his platoon had captured a trench. A great victory to be sure, but Chief only hoped he and his boys would fare just as well...

 

[Zesiro]

There was something about Zesiro and the Empire. She had only been partially taken in. A thread of friendship had been formed and then lost. Being taken captive for a year and then running away into hiding had caused even more of a separation. Now she had returned and needed to reestablish her connections. Desmond was a given in her mind and she wanted to continue reforging what they had in the past.

A new life was coming and she looked forward to this second chance with the people she had missed for a very long time.

Orders had been given and Zesiro was dressed once again in armour. It had been rare for her before to don these and had preferred to dress to show off her curves. That part and aspect of her life had changed and now she longer felt the need to flaunt what she possessed naturally. A new mind on things, Zesiro could take care of business with a far greater determination than she had ever had before.

Being in law and a queen had helped bring this change and she waited for further orders to come in. Itching to see some action, her hand travelled to the lightsaber at her belt and gripped its hilt. On her other hip was a blaster and on her wrist, she wore a bracelet that would help her control electricity when she used the Force to cause lighting.

Take out as many of the big guns...

Looking at the ground around her, she shivered slightly but moved out.

@IC-104 @Marriskcal Lati [member="Cynthia Alucard"] [member="Max Fel"] [member="Tanomas Graf"]

 

[Kier Grey]

Kyle Weir
Polar Zone, Byss, Deep Core
Tags: [member="Tanomas Graf"], [member="Cynthia Alucard"], [member="Marriskcal Lati"], [member="Max Fel"], [member="IC-104"], [member="Zesiro"], [member="Varian Alaric"]

In the hours preceding the Imperial Confederation's assault, a lone figure skulks across the snow-covered pack ice with a white cloak draped over their armour, Byss' white canvass covered crests and depressions across the landscape proved to be no match for Kyle's physique. Believing the assault across the dark plains would begin in the coming hour Kyle sought shelter from the lash and whip of violent polar wind within a shallow rock cover blanketed beneath several inches of snow. Setting up a marksman's firing position with brief, swift graceful movements, the former Death Trooper peers through optic sight gaze piercing blizzard's veil the roaring wails on the wind is an ominous howl. Kyle could hear the distant sound of Walkers clang and hiss through that thick veil of darkness and snow washing over the planet's surface like a tidal wave, even through their environmentally controlled powersuit the icy chill is palpable and even uncomfortable for the gene-forged warrior who was built to ignore pain.

Hazel eyes note the distant cones of light cast from heads of bipedal scout walkers guarding an entrance these opponents of Tanomas Graf thought concealed, they were wrong. Kyle had been prowling the polar zone for weeks alone searching for a way inside the facility without having to push through the facility's main blast doors which the Sergeant observed are sufficiently thick to withstand orbital bombardment. The air itself rumbled in a shiver with the distant penetration of several heavy cruisers into low-orbit, the Core Imperial Confederation would soon begin their approach and Kyle for their part would watch. Further hours pass and Kyle had shifted position again, burying themselves within a carefully constructed mound of snow, their rifle barrel surrounded by snow and ice with optic sight peering down through a small opening, the teeming mass of Troops thrown against the defenders earns a tight disapproving scowl from Kyle. "Did we learn nothing from the Order? Throwing men's lives away as if they mean nothing. All for vain political glory, there is no military necessity for this assault. Several army groups against a single division in barely prepared positions."

Kyle did not move save for the painstakingly slow soft breaths, their gene-augmented heart beating under forty times every minute seeing the assault here as little more than some excessive exercise in a show of force. The other thing bothering former Death Trooper is a lack of prisoners being seized among the opposition, it was hypocritical for Kyle to disapprove of such a practice having been a member of ALPHA team alongside Tanomas Graf and yet disapprove Kyle does for their views had radically changed in the time they'd been imprisoned within a hospital and then released into the galaxy by their former teammate. A boot crashes through Kyle's caccoon of snow and like a disturbed hungry beast roused rudely from slumber by its' prey their fists curl into rictus-filled anger around Hayes' breastplate and pulls the bewildered and embattled Stormtrooper Sergeant close under a pair of leering bronze-coloured eye lenses. "Who are you!?" The six and a half feet warrior furiously demanded an answer in a thick snarl from this trooper clad in First Order armour with a biting metallic tin, Kyle's teeth cut their own tongue the words are spoken so quickly, the coppery-taste of blood washes through mouth.

With Kyle's boots atop some thin ice without realising it shattered without warning swallowing the two soldiers down a winding angled slide of ice, for their part, the former Death Trooper neither screams nor grunts but desperately searches for a grip to no avail. At the bottom, an opening in the roof of a hollow cave with an underwater stream waits for the two. Kyle would smash into the rocky earth first with a loud thud and yet no grunt or voice of pain leaves their lungs and instead the gene warrior snaps up in the time a Human would take to blink an eye, pivoting in direction of Hayes and levelling a G-12A Blaster Rifle at their white Stormtrooper Armour and yet the Sergeant does not fire their weapon, but waits for the no doubt injured Stormtrooper's answer.

 

[Varian Alaric]

Varian Alaric "Corvus"
Mercenary | Gun for Hire | Bounty Hunter
Polar Zone, Byss
Interacting With: [member="Kyle Whir"] | [member="Marriskcal Lati"]
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Another battlefield? Great...

He had never expected to be on a battlefield again. He hadn't planned for or even thought that such a thing would ever happen again in his life. After all, Alaric had become a mercenary, a gun for hire, a bounty hunter...there was no feasible reason for him to ever think that he would ever have to do battle against hundreds of foes again on a field that spanned hundreds of kilometers. The man had never thoroughly enjoyed fighting in the thick of the battle among numerous foes. He enjoyed the fighting, sad as it may sound to an outsider. Fighting, killing...it acted as a catalyst to help alive anger from his split soul, it brought peace to him in a fashion most didn't know. It was why when Varian was in the First Order, he fought with such ferocity, it was a way for him to "let loose" emotionally from his negative and downtrodden feelings. Though as to whether he enjoyed fighting? No, no he did not. Fighting helped him to break free from his self-imposed constraints, but he didn't take pride in killing. Alaric believed that every life had value, no matter how evil or deceitful... And yet, here he was right in the thick and heat of battle amongst the icy expanses of the polar regions of Byss. The snow-capped mounds and freshly fallen white flecks from above looks as though they were out of a dream. That was how the snow had looked to Varian before the assault had begun. Now, however, the once beautiful sight was something entirely different. Where once white heaps of white, frozen water sat, they were now drenched in crimson liquid almost like a painting of red splotches across a white canvas. A canvas of war, a canvas of blood, a canvas of a battlefield.

A sputtering red haze of blood entered the crisp air of the polar region of Byss as a serrated knife exited the neck of a poorly armed militia trooper. Crimson blood sputtered out of the open wound, splattering onto the snow beneath the militia trooper. And then, Alaric pushed the body over onto the snow, slowly gathering around it a pool of fresh, red blood which subsequently soaked the ice beneath it. Turning away from the dead soldier, Varian's glacier blue eyes looked out among the landscape towards a small rise. A soldier stood up on the snow ridge. To say that he was perplexed was an understatement. The stormtrooper was either a fool or an idiot.

"Get down you karking idiot!"

Varian yelled out to the stormtrooper. And then...he was gone in a blur of snow and the tangle of arms. Curiosity got the better of the former Disciple of Ren as he walked over to the now collapsed snow ridge and looked down into it. Something wasn't right. He had been stalking someone earlier, the same someone who he had seen at the meeting for the reunion of the Galactic Empire. He had been with Har'xa back then and had been tasked with keeping an eye on this most curious individual. The way this...person acted had been cause of alarm to Alaric. He wasn't a trusting man to begin with anyways, and he was even less trusting now. Ever since his departure from the First Order, Varian had been paranoid, very paranoid about being followed by agents of the First Order. And this new figure, whoever he was, could be a spy for the First Order Security Bureau. He was not ready to go back to the First Order, he would never go back to that hell-hole of backstabbers who culled their own to 'reform' their 'glorious' society.

And with that, Varian jumped into the breach in the snow...down, down, down the hole.

[member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="Cynthia Alucard"] | [member="Max Fel"] | [member="IC-104"] | [member="Zesiro"]

 

[Tanomas Graf]

High Chancellor Tanomas Graf​

Equipment: Uniform & Trench Coat - Vibroblade - Heavy Blaster Pistol​

Location: Front Line Trenches - Polar Regions, Byss​

Status: Leading by Example​

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Dusk had just begun to fall over the battlefield, blue daylight now replaced with an orange glow as the sun set over the mountains in the distance. It had already been a handful of hours into the siege, the fighting still harsh for both sides but neither giving up just yet. The entrenched infantry was recently reinforced with a newly mobilized battalion of Imperial snowtroopers, the elite unit a welcome sight among the beleaguered soldiers. But that was just the beginning of what High Command had in store for the valiant defenders manning the trenches and walls of the governor's fortress, the next of which would have arrived shortly after.

Smoke that filled the air was disturbed and cast to the side when a pristine, white Lambda shuttlecraft swooped in a wide arc over the trenches until it hovered over a relatively flat section of snow and set itself down. The boarding ramp descended, a handful of novatroopers rushing down to secure the area as energy bolts impacted against the shield of the ship, their black armour contrasting against both the surface and the shuttle. At last, when it was deemed adequately safe, a black-uniformed individual stepped down to the edge of the ramp, observing his surroundings.

This was where he was supposed to be, his blood was already pumping at the prospect of being so close to the carnage. Withering away as some retired old man in the clutches of the Farce Order was something he had resigned himself to several months ago, but now he realized he had a chance to relive his glory days as a commander both on the ground and in space. He would let those that fought and died for him know that he was willing to do the same for them, that their beloved leader would sacrifice everything as well for the cause. He unsheathed his vibroblade and unholstered his blaster, beginning to walk towards the front lines.

Soon enough, the Imperial forces present would realize:

High Chancellor Tanomas Graf had arrived.​

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[member="Max Fel"] | [member="Cynthia Alucard"] | [member="Marriskcal Lati"] | [member="IC-104"] | [member="Zesiro"] | [member="Kyle Whir"] | [member="Varian Alaric"]​

 

[IC-104]

IC-104 heard the big gun barking, it's artillery rounds sent cascading towards their intended target, which was followed by a distant boom as they crashed upon the coordinates. IC-104 continued his weary search through the trenches. It was like a small maze and to cheat, risk going topside, surely meant death. So, Chief meandered through the maze using his ears to guide the way. It was a little hard with his helmet on, so he simply took it off and clipped it to his belt, revealing a rather plane sight that had left it's mark on the entire galaxy, the face of Jango Fett. He headed towards the sound of the artillery piece and strangely enough did not counter any resistance on his way through. The rebellious Moff must've spread his forces thin.

Chief found the artillery piece and put his helmet back on. It was just around the corner and sure to be heavily guarded. Chief sprang round the corner blaster raised and was stunned. Younglings probably not much older than fourteen manned the gun. Chief couldn't kill them, lucky for him they surrendered immediately.

He marched them to beachead LudoKresh and had found his squad already waiting for him.

"We starting a daycare boss?

"Old mans going soft on us,"

Chief ignored the jabs his brothers made and reported into higher command.

"We've secured the Artillery, and the main forces are just arriving to man the guns!"

"Copy IC-104,"

"I've got prisoners"

"Send 'em on back, you boys deserve a break anyways"

 

[Marriskcal Lati]

Lannik Hayes, Byss' Most Unfortunate Stormtrooper
Equipment: Stormtrooper Armour, Vibrodagger, Blaster
Location: Polar Zone, Byss, Deep Core
Status: Cursing his life and the crazy giant he picked up
Interacting with: [member="Kyle Whir"] | [member="Varian Alaric"]
Allies: [member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="Max Fel"] | [member="Cynthia Alucard"] | [member="Zesiro"] | [member="IC-104"]

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Just when Lannik thought his no good, absolutely horrible day could not possibly get any worse, it did.

The next time he set down his foot, the snow only went up to his knee, where before, it had reached to his thighs. This was the first sign that something was about to go wrong. But before the unfortunate former sergeant even had time to ponder if he had stepped on a huge buried boulder, or a long dead frozen corpse, he suddenly gained height and found himself face-to-face with a snarling armoured giant.

Lannik cursed his inability to leave things be. And Agent Lati. Because the all the source of his life’s problems can be traced back to his charge, obviously. If he had stayed back in the First Order like a good little obedient stormtrooper, he would not be dealing with all of this. Ergo, it was all her fault.

But before he can even form a verbal response to the hulking form that he had inadvertently stepped on, fate continued to laugh at Lannik Hayes. He barely managed to catch someone yelling at him – Do I look kriffing happy that I’m being lifted like a ragdoll?! – before the sounds of sharp brittle cracks began fill the air ominously. Unable to see where the source was originating from, except that it was too damn close, both men fell through the broken ice, with Lannik screaming bloody murder all the way down.

After what felt like a tumble through the galaxy’s roughest ride – 1/10. Would not recommend – the beleaguered former officer found himself in an undignified heap of bruises on the hard ground. Karking OW. He was seeing starbursts, and from the tang of blood in his mouth, he probably had cut his flesh of his inner cheek on his teeth after hitting his head one too many times on the way down. But before Lannik could even start to categorise his injuries, he found himself at the business end of a blaster rifle.

Though it was near-instinctive for Lannik to want to raise his hand in surrender, with all of his bones feeling they have been rattled loose and his body feeling like it’s been used a rancor’s favourite bouncy ball, the stormtrooper was feeling mulish. And even more grumpy than before. So when he answered the karker with the imperial accent, it was with a belligerent tone that did nothing to hide his displeasure. “FS-1606. Lannik Hayes. Formerly of the First Order,” he growled back tersely, his eyes narrowed beneath his helmet.

“What’s it to you? Are you going around hunting and executing deserters on their payroll?”

After he has thrown those words back towards his aggressor, the tunnel that the former sergeant found himself sitting under began to rumble once more, and small shards of ice and snow began to pelt against his scuffed armour.

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[Kier Grey]

Kyle Weir
Polar Zone, Byss, Deep Core
Tags: [member="Tanomas Graf"], [member="Cynthia Alucard"], [member="Marriskcal Lati"], [member="Max Fel"], [member="IC-104"], [member="Zesiro"], [member="Varian Alaric"]

Kyle's cold passionless faceplate watches Lannik with rifle leveled in the Stormtrooper's direction, the powersuit clad Security Officer circles with a dexterous placement of feet like a shark studying its' paddling prey. Listening to the white-armoured Trooper's answer and then the question that follows, Kyle begins lowering their weapon in a painstakingly slow motion in an expression of optimistic caution. Halting and after a short, brief silence answers Lannik's question. "No, I am wondering what a First Imperial Stormtrooper is doing here on Byss." A sinister smile could be heard on Kyle's deep baritone metallic droid-like voice rumbles through their annunciator, the sound of some oafish fool tumbling clumsily down through the ice-shaft above Lannik and Kyle forward the latter's Hazel spheres behind tandem brass lenses rises skyward in direction of Byss' snow-blanketed surface. "But you already answered my question, Ef-Es sixteen-zero-six." Both of the Sergeant's hands remain tightly clasped around the ominous black G-12A Rifle and though Lannik might not have identified it like the deserter the weapon too had absconded from Sieger's First Imperial Realm.

The clumsy fall through crevasse grows louder and louder with an irritating screech reaching Kyle's ear canals, their eyes narrow angrily, face wore a snarl but it is not reflected in metallic din. Dark blood steams steadily down through nostrils as their cybernetic nervous system augmentations knife agonizingly into the synapses of brain in an attempt to seize control over the Death Trooper's body. It failed, but not before Kyle snorts audibly with an unpleasant abrupt force pulling the streaks of blood back up into sinuses. "I should have known better than to think a First Order Stormtrooper would willingly wear their armour within the core, Tanomas needs to issue you a new suit of armour. I'll get you sorted out Sixteen." The cold stern ring of Kyle's voice carries a subtle warmth, it isn't overt friendliness but far from the initial hostility which that six and a half feet tall warrior had greeted Lannik. A figure wrapped in a cloak with hood drapped over head drops down after their long journey down the chilling icy winding crevasse and immediately Kyle recognizes their garb incorrectly in their paranoid mind as being the mark of a First Order Security Bureau Agent Sergeant Weir raises their G-12A Blaster Rifle in Varian's direction without realising the mistake. The augments finally take over with sinuses sticky with a flood blood, mouth filled with stick spit dribbling down chin Kyle lunges in a wrathful terrifying scream.

In the time it took Alaric's heart to beat once Kyle's vision possessed by a stained red went to batter their rifle's buttstock into the bounty hunter's hooded visage, it was for that reason why they did not recognise them as an unwelcome comrade and instead as a First Imperial Agent, everything went black their mind bewitched and dominated. The speed of body Lannik might observe is so incredible and impossibly fast the figure could not possibly have shared a species with the Stormtrooper. The former death trooper struck with all the speed and ferocity of a demon summoned straight out of the underworld from archaic legend, Kyle bellows curses and wails loudly in a homicidal fury, swearing incoherently at the man who had once been Primat Ren. There was no hope of subduing Kyle physically for the former Knight, their best chance of survival lay in the force. Only the force or counter-mutagen stimulants could hope to subdue this mind driven mad by the stabbing pain of cybernetic augmentations robbing Kyle of both pain and fear. Jets of blood sprouted down through nostrils, and the uncontrollable melancholic screaming only intensifies. Clear watery salt tears streak down mixing with the sooty-lines marring face. An overwhelming flood of emotion: Betrayal, Hatred and Wrath all together enthal's their consciousness, the pleasurable heavy bite of adrenaline induced an ecstatic euphoria into Project: AFTERLIFE's victim, bottom lip curls under the teeth of top jaw and they bit down with such strength the coppery fluid flowing beneath skin erupts and is sucked back into maw from heavy frantic mouth-breathing.

 

[Cynthia Alucard]

Cynthia Alucard
Location: Byss, Forward Observation/Supply Station
Nearby: [member="Har'xa Escala"]

Cyn noticed her breath once again, the cold once again doing her no favors, and once again she simply could not fathom why her observation post hadn't the faintest idea why it wasn't an enclosed heated place. The biting cold aside, Cyn thought to herself that at least she had little in a way to worry about the battle itself. Almost all TIE Flight operations were suspended and Pilots grounded, so she could at least comfort herself to know that she would not need to fear piloting under these weather conditions.

Survey and Scout pilots of course are out there, but thankfully I've graduated past such missions. Cyn smiled to herself of her own accomplishments, she had in effect positioned herself to remain mostly out of combat for most of her tenure as a Pilot. Of course, when she was deployed into combat it was only in the most extreme of combat missions that made Cyn wonder if she was being punished for her intrinsic ability of self preservation.

Nothing wrong with a little healthy cowardice to keep yourself alive long enough to fight in more battles. Cyn understood of course if she openly displayed such desire it would only serve to hinder her upwards trajectory within the Navy, so she still needed to keep up the appearance of a Self Sacrificial TIE Pilot. I'll get that instructor role eventually.

A notice appeared on her data-pad, new orders were being sent and a ship was being sent to pick her up. Rather interesting orders, for her observation post already held sufficient data for her report and using a survey ship to gather better results with increased risks simply seemed rather unnecessarily risky.

Cyn would have said such words allowed, and perhaps even to the officer who dared suggested such idea to her, but Cyn could only accept the orders and calmly walk out and to the landing zone. The orders sent to her were from an Admiral, and no amount of courage would dare her to openly challenge an order from the Admiral Escala.

The ship landed neatly enough, while it remained decently armored and maneuverable, Cyn found the notion of flying into a blizzard beyond reckless. Easy there Cynthia, think of this as a way to impress an admiral. No need to get angry and red in the cheeks. With such calming thoughts, Cyn boarded the vessel, and instantly enjoyed the warmth of the heated vessel. Despite her earlier disappointment, she smiled and her cheeks turned rosy from the sudden welcome of enjoyable warmth, away from the bitter freezing air.

"Wing Commander Alucard reporting." Cyn introduced herself, with a snap of her heels and a traditional naval salute. Perhaps this warm ship wouldn't be such a bad ride after all.

 

[Zesiro]

Turning to focus on her target of the large gun, Zesiro mapped her route through the trenches between her and them. Before she headed away two things stopped her. She would need grenades to help accomplish her ordered task, so she stopped and picked up a bag that hopefully contained enough to do this. The other was the arrival of Tanomas Graff.

Giving their leader a nod of respect, she took off at a run through the trenches. Much like [member="IC-104"] nobody stood in her way or blocked her path until she was about to exit the trench she was in. Something stopped her though.

Her passage had been followed and if she hadn't stopped, her head would have been blown off by the sniper keeping an eye on that exit. The snow at the end erupted with an explosion, but there was no follow through. No further shots were fired, but now she could not find the person who shot at her. Laying on the ground and keeping her head low, she rolled over onto her back to look up.

From here Zesiro would not be able to accomplish her mission. However, she had a trick up her sleeve. Creating an illusion of herself foolishly walking out, she dashed out after it in a blink of an eye. Her Force enhanced run allowed her to lob an activated grenade at the first of the big guns. The illusion faded behind her and she was already past the first line of guards stationed at these guns. All she needed now was some armour to allow her to blend in with the Empire's enemies.

 

[Varian Alaric]

Varian Alaric "Corvus"
Mercenary | Gun for Hire | Bounty Hunter
Polar Zone, Byss
Interacting With: [member="Kyle Whir"] | [member="Marriskcal Lati"]
___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___

As soon as he had landed on the metal ground of the hidden bunker, Varian was immediately met with a troublesome sight. There was a First Order Stormtrooper, and that same 'mercenary' he had been following earlier. Having just jumped down, there was no possible nor feasible way for the former Knight of Ren to see the violent commotion between the two combatants. All he saw was their armor, which was more than enough for Alaric to make up his mind about what the two of them were up to. He didn't want to question them, he didn't need to question them. Varian knew what he was doing, he knew who these two individuals were. There was no doubt about it whatsoever. They were First Order spies and assassins, sent to take him in by force along with this 'Tanomas Graf' who had defected as well. That much was certain by their highly suspicious attitudes, mannerisms, and movements. His paranoia was getting the better of his normally clearer and naive judgment, blinding him within a haze of paranoid thoughts and conspiracies. He should never have defected from the First Order...he should never have killed that First Order Security Bureau agent he had found a few months ago on god knows what mission. And yet...he knew it was wrong to jump to such conclusions so quickly. Which was why the former member of Ren did not draw his shotgun or rifle from his back, or his lightsaber tucked into a leather bag at his side.

Glacier eyes had barely glanced looked onto the pair for more than a half second or two before the taller, armored male, charged him. The sound of a bone-chilling, animalistic roar from the armored figure made Varian's skin jump and his spine shiver, no man was fighting him, it was a beast. An uncontrollable, immense, predatory beast which would kill him without mercy. Instinctively, Alaric walked backward, his armored back pressing against the metal wall of the bunker. He knew it, they were spies! All of them, everywhere. They would never stop hunting him, they would never allow him to leave or have a life of his own once more. He would have to deal with them as they came, Varian supposed. Just like both of these karking bastards. If he didn't have the force, it would have been an impossibility for the male to have seen the man charging him in time -- nevermind the butt of a rifle coming towards his faceplate. In a paranoid and adrenaline filled frenzy, Varian's right arm shot out without any precognition or thoughts from his mind to do such a thing. His armored right hand almost immediately grabbed around the middle of the rifle, trying to force the man back. One hand, however, wasn't enough. In quick response, his left hand clasped around the barrel of the rifle, making sure not to grasp too closely to the muzzle exit from which laser fire or slug fire would burst forth from. He didn't want a hand full of lead or plasma, least of all now.

Varian used the full brunt of his strength to push back this beast, this animal as best as he could. His biceps locked from the muscular strain, his triceps and radial muscles felt as though they were being stabbed with the fury of thousands of scalples and syringes, scrapping at his muscles and rendering their strength asunder into weakness and a lacking of power or fortitude to defend himself. Alaric's whole body shook from the strain, his arms barely being able to hold this man back. A man who he knew not was a supersoldier, a Deathtrooper. Using his back as leverage against the wall, the male shot out his right armored foot towards the right kneecap of the armored male currently assaulting him. He hoped it would make the man's leg give out temporarily, enough, at least, for him to get away and draw a weapon to put down this filthy spy.

They're traitors! They're spies, all of them, none of them are innocent, all of them are hear to get us, all of us! All the karking lot of them, traitors to the last damn trooper. I should never have come here, I should never have followed the command of that Epicanthix to follow this man, this...spy.


[member="Zesiro"] | [member="Cynthia Alucard"] | [member="IC-104"] | [member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="Max Fel"] | [member="Har'xa Escala"]

 

[Har'xa Escala]

Har'xa Escala, Fleet Admiral
Equipment: Uniform, Code Cylinders, Blaster Pistol
Location: Aboard a survey vessel, Polar Zone, Byss, Deep Core
Status: Annoyed, and disgusted with the amount of snowfall in the Polar Zone
Interacting with: [member="Cynthia Alucard"]
Allies: [member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="Max Fel"] | [member="Zesiro"] | [member="IC-104"]

​

​

It was with narrowed eyes that the noble stood before the viewport of the survey vessel he found himself on. Spread out before his gaze was a vista of immaculate white.

Resting lightly by his thigh, his right index finger twitched faintly, the only hint of annoyance that the older Escala allowed himself to indulge in. To the rest of the officers and crew that accompanied him, the tall male appeared to be his usual calm and stoic self.

With the limited vision caused by heavy snowfall, the vessel was reliant on its sensors to advance through the treacherous zone. Even then, as the weather continued to deteriorate, the accuracy of its sensors will be compromised. But the Epicanthix was not about to let the scouts and pilots assigned to the stations be stranded, especially not when the reports from his battlegroup confirmed that the conditions will only worsen in the next hour. There was also a very real risk that the remnants of the opposition would scatter to the winds if they were about to lose and attempt to overtake the stations to protect themselves from the blizzard.

Perhaps someone of his rank and stature could have left this job to one of his many aides, but considering he was also en route to the base camp located at the edge of the region, it did not make sense for him to expend twice the resources when he was perfectly fine with being slightly delayed by a few detours. Just two more stations, and then they can retreat from this thoroughly unpleasant wasteland.

As the vessel began to lift, the click of a new set of footsteps against the durasteel panels caught his hearing. Har’xa Escala turned to regard the officer standing before him. Unlike his youngest son, the Admiral was more severe in demeanour, and sparks of his rare humour hidden from all except those closest to him. He waited for a moment after the young woman own greetings before he returned it, his own salute precise. “Welcome aboard, Wing Commander Alucard. Please feel free to make use of what little amenities that is available on the vessel. We have two other stops before we journey back to Base Senth.”

 

[Marriskcal Lati]

Lannik Hayes, Stormtrooper-in-Distress
Equipment: Stormtrooper Armour, Vibrodagger, Blaster
Location: Polar Zone, Byss, Deep Core
Status: How is this his life?!
Interacting with: [member="Kyle Whir"] | [member="Varian Alaric"]
Allies: [member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="Max Fel"] | [member="Cynthia Alucard"] | [member="Zesiro"] | [member="IC-104"]

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For a tense moment, Lannik thought that he was a dead man walking.

And then, the barrel blaster rifle was slowly lowered to the ground and the stormtrooper found himself heaving a sigh in relief as the armoured giant began to speak. While Lannik found himself slightly concerned that the tone held a sense of dark amusement to it, he could not deny it was a valid question. Most of the individuals who had left First Order space and made their way to the Deep Core were the ones loyal to their prior Imperial regime.

But he was saved from having to explain himself of any further intention on Byss and of his desertation when the other continued to speak. By now, the rumblings from above were growing louder and more alarming, so despite his body feeling like one big bruise, Lannik slowly got back up on his feet… and jarred his apparently injured arm. A long, loud, descriptive litany of heartfelt curses was directed to no one and everyone as the brunette supported his – Dislocated?! Broken?!? – right arm with his good arm as he limped away from the immediate area.

The loud snort from his non-hostile companion caught the former officer’s attention and the male turned back towards the other in time to hear his exclamation. “Much obliged…” he trailed off a little awkwardly, suddenly realising he had yet to learn the giant’s name. “You know how it is, what’s with being displaced and everyone busy settling down and setting up a working system.” His own voice held a shade of tentative camaraderie as he began to unwind now that his life was not being directly threatened.

…Wait one kriffing moment, did my new acquaintance just toss out the High Chancellor’s given name casually? Is there even another Tanomas on Byss?!

All this action and excitement was not good for his heart and Lannik suspected he shaved at least a year off of his lifespan, if not more. Unbecknowst to the unfortunate stormtrooper, he was about to lose another four years.

It began with the appearance of yet another mysterious hooded figure. Was it a new trend that I have somehow missed? But whoever it was, hostile or friendly, the armoured giant beside him let out an furious howl and lunged for the third of their strange trio. Lannik took a step forward and held out his remaining good arm in a belated attempt to stop the other, but his companion moved too swiftly out of his range for him to be a baseline human. And for the moment, the former officer mistakenly believed that the other was a sensitive like Agent Lati. He would find his initial belief to be erroneous in the next several minutes.

Injured, and not stupid or suicidal enough to throw himself in the middle of a fight without knowing who was what, Lannik could only watch in dismay as the two armoured titans faced off against each other.

Did no one subscribe to the art of negotiations and reasonable talks before throwing the first punch anymore?

​

 

[Cynthia Alucard]

Cynthia Alucard
Location: Byss, Forward Observation/Supply Station
Nearby: [member="Har'xa Escala"]

The warmth seeped into her body, allowing her to finally feel the biting cold fade away, truly a much needed change of pace. I can survive the scrutiny of an Admiral until we reached back to our base. Cyn felt confident in her ability to remain calm and collective, especially now after she'll be far and removed from the chilling atmosphere of the outside. Wait did he say after two more stops?

Cyn raised an eyebrow, but she bowed once and moved quickly to a bit closer spot near the cockpit of the ship, she hadn't the faintest intention of asking to be their pilot, no she simply wanted to know where they were heading. She felt uneasy if they planned on moving across the open battlefield, but then again perhaps the Admiral would take the longer and safer route to each stop, well behind friendly territory. Of course that has to be it.

The ship slowly lifted off and Cyn turned to face her Admiral, she knew of his last name and the countenance held plenty of resemblance to her once First Order Captain. Grandfather perhaps? Instead of asking such a question, she felt sure of her assumption, after all she wouldn't like to be asked of her age, well her height mostly.

"Far colder in space, but I do miss the vastness of it all." Cyn commented, her eyes gazing outwards to the screens, if she wasn't aware of the snow she would have demanded someone repair the screen. "-But we must not forgo any practical training under atmospheric conditions. Much like here, we have full control of the air space, but the weather can be a fickle ally or dreaded foe." Cyn spoke rosily, ​I would be devastated to fly an atmospheric fighter of course, so many little things to worry about.

The ship continued its path, and unbeknownst to Cyn, the pilots were ordered for the quickest routes possible. Over contested enemy battlegrounds.

 

[Har'xa Escala]

Har'xa Escala, Fleet Admiral
Equipment: Uniform, Code Cylinders, Blaster Pistol
Location: Aboard a survey vessel, Polar Zone, Byss, Deep Core
Status: Annoyed, and disgusted, but with the absolute state they are in at the moment
Interacting with: [member="Cynthia Alucard"]
Allies: [member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="Max Fel"] | [member="Zesiro"] | [member="IC-104"]

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The older male was about to turn back his attention to the viewport when the petite young woman appeared once again at the edge of his vision. He listened quietly to her words, finding himself agreeing with them, the faintest hint of a smile appearing at the corners of his mouth and the crinkes

Har’xa himself also preferred the traversing through the void of darkness and stars. There was a serenity to it that he had missed, especially since he had spent the last few years of his early retirement on the surface of his homeworld. While he worn the mantle of Clan Head and Grand Margrave with his usual focus and determination, now that he was given another opportunity to return to his former position, the Epicanthix found that he had missed standing at the helm of a star destroyer.

Perhaps, he conceded, his own love for space was the reason why he had allowed Kou’ha to leave the safety of the Clan and to enroll in the First Imperial Navy.

“I concur. It is always best to be prepared for any situation that may arise.” The older male turned his form to better regard the Wing Commander. “The more challenging the trials and training you undergo, the more prepared you will be. But it is rare for someone as young as yourself to speak of such observations.” His youngest certainly did not, until he found himself burned by the bitter loss in Skor II. As a father, it was a lesson Har’xa had not wanted for his son to learn so soon in his life. But he also knew that his son was resilient, and when he managed to find his path once more, he will be much stronger for it.

It was then that the an explosion hit the survey vessel, sending most of the people within its frame sprawling to the durasteel floor. With a soft curse in his native language, Har’xa found himself sharing the same fate as his subordinates, his shoulder slamming hard against the viewport he was standing beside, before he managed to catch his balance and stop himself from completely falling over.

“Captain, I want a report now,” the Admiral demanded, his voice chilly in his displeasure.

 

[Cynthia Alucard]

Cynthia Alucard
Location: Byss, Forward Observation/Supply Station
Nearby: [member="Har'xa Escala"]

Cyn wanted to smile, and if she was of a weaker mind perhaps her face would have been similar to a giddy school girl who recently received an encouraging word from her instructor. With as much acute focus on her appearance, Cyn only allowed the slimmest smile to tug her lips apart, but that was all. Well, good impression set and now I simply need to coat myself gently to keep on his good side.

The moment the ship rocked from an explosion, Cyn was about to add a comment but instead she found herself face first on the steel floor. Hands pressed on the floor, but for a moment she paused, the ship slowly re-corrected itself and she jumped back up. I will not fall down again. Cyn's eyes focused and she quickly rooted herself by a nearby seat for the passengers. The situation currently was now turned an emergency, and if they were hit once Hit violently I might add she knew they were about to get hit again.

Most TIE pilots often never lived past the first direct hit, with weak shields and lightly armored shell, to survive an attack only meant that the next attack would be their end if nothing was done. She strapped herself down and patted her safety restraint for extra comfort that when they crashed she would not get ragged doll across the hull of the ship.

Cyn inspected the other seats but noticed their Admiral chose not to find a safe area to strap down and await their emergency landing. Oh no. Cyn worried that if decades of serving on board a battleship, a ship of the line, made him too confident with standing where he could most directly affect the situation. This isn't a Star Destroyer Admiral! We don't have the structural integrity of safely tough out another attack, let alone a crash landing.

"Admiral! It is most advisable to find yourself seated and strapped down, safely secured." Cyn called out to her Superior. Unfortunately they had little luxury to exchange words or even argue for more opinions. The pilot himself also felt his craft give away and struggle against his control.

"Sir, an emergency crash landing will soon take place. It will be rough and I would take that advice to find yourself safely secured to a seat." The pilot urged as the ship continued to plummet further towards the ground.

"May-day, May-day, this is Survey Patrol Alpha One-Two, we are going down I repeat, we are going down." The co-pilot started to deliver their emergency broadcast message.

Maybe they could reach those on the ground directly below, but Cyn held little hope if they could punch a message back to base through this storm. I hate you, you mistress of fate, weaving in a potential death. The young TIE Wing commander cursed her luck and braced for their rough landing. The vessel seemed to pull up, as if teasing the idea of it being able to keep flight, but it viciously slammed into the dirt below, the nose crunched from the force of the fall.

Their landing continued to skid and dig deep into the snow and dirt below them, but while Cyn was worried of whiplash from all the momentum change, their worse was yet to come. The trench line was fast approaching, and the ship slammed into the back wall of the trench, forcing all to slam against which ever side the momentum would carry them. Cyn for her part felt as if her heart would burst out from her chest, and not from any romance but from the literal force of her slamming against her harness and safety restraints.

Moans and cries erupted all around her and Cyn groggily unlatched herself, her hands shook as she ran her fingers across her hair to better soothe her mind for a moment. The ship's internal lights were gone, save the emergency lights and with still a ringing in her hears and her feet unsure of the ground, she gently relied on the chair behind her to stand steady.

"Just my luck," Cyn complained, her knees buckled and gave in, she fell to the floor and gritted her teeth as a sharp pain spiked and Cyn knew that there were going to be bruises all across her chest and stomach in a form similar to the harness of her seat. Cyn reached for her blaster pistol and gently wrapped her hand around the hilt, I should just shoot my leg to get me to forget about the pain in my chest. And she figured, someone might even carry her back to the base.

Or leave me to dead to die in the cold, or just give me the Imperial peace. Cyn mused a few moments longer, deliberating on all her options to her and ultimately she would simply deal with what pain she had now and concern herself with the rest later. "Where did we land?" Cyn asked, her voice hinted at pain, but the concern was also there. We need to know where in the battlefield we landed.