Dominion This Is The Time (TSE Dominion of Tammar Hex)

[Melia Siari]

THIS IS THE TIME

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There was no rest for the Empire, to expand endlessly across the stars and submit countless worlds to its rule was a task that required tireless work and a devotion to order. An Empire by definition sought to expand and, with the reignited conflicts with the Silver Jedi to the galactic southwest that culminated in a defeat at Kintan, it was clear that fortifying the Sith hold on the Mara Corridor important to secure a tactical point of entry for the Imperial war machine. To this end the Imperial Armada directed its focus on the world of Tammar, a former holdout of the ancient empire of Xim the Despot.

Tammar itself lies some light years from the Mara Corridor itself, but taking the world would add an additional staging point and buffer zone should war find itself building up the hyperlane. The world is sparsely populated, due in part to the lack of any standing water on its rocky and desert-like surface. Unfortunately the Tammarians have learned to distrust imperial rule, and have erected a blockade in a futile attempt to prevent the Empire from taking the world and expanding further upon hearing of Imperial forces mobilizing in their sector. As the Tammarian economy, or what little there is to speak of, is built largely on exporting ores and trace minerals to anyone willing to make a purchase there is little governance on the world and once the Empire has found a stable foothold on the desert planet there is little doubt that order will swiftly push the rich mining unions into line.

Objective I - Break the Blockade​

All that stands in the way of Imperial control over Tammarian space is the modest fleet assembled by the mining unions present on Tammar. A Ferrata-class planetary assault carrier under the command of Captain Melia Siari, the Cradle, only needs to make landfall for the bulk of the Sith forces to take control of the desert world and wrench away its natural resources from its mining unions. Protect the Cradle and puncture the blockade to escort the invasion force planet-side. The Blockade is notably made up of older Republic-era ships, such as Acclamator-class assault ships.​

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Objective II - Boarding Action​

While the Armada fights a war of attrition with the blockade's forces, the center of the Blockade is to be the target of a strategic boarding action. One of the largest mining unions on the planet, the Tammarian Mining Company, leads the blockade with an Acclamator II-class assault ship and is commanded by the chairman of the union, Nakdaar Kistemar. The ship has little room for troops aboard the ship, as it was designed to sacrifice barrack and hangar space for a greater array of weaponry, making a play at taking control of the ship through boarding much more feasible than on more modern, and larger, ships.​

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Objective III - Staging Point​

While the planet is under blockade, the blockade itself is incapable of preventing smaller transport craft from making it through while engaged with the larger capital ships of the Armada. Through the chaos in space, the goal is the slip through the union forces and make landfall. Once on the desert world the goal is to create a base of operations to act as the hub for Imperial activity on the planet. Be warned, however, as the atmosphere on Tammar is unusually thin, and the native Tammarians have a special organ to better obtain oxygen in this hostile environment. Oxygen tanks or other means to help breathing are recommended.​

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Objective IV - BYOO​

While the Imperial war machine sets its gears into motion, take matters into your own hands and do as you will - be it in space or on Tammar itself.​

 

[Karina Lowe Legacy]

Location: Aboard the HIMS Vanadium, Harrower-Class Cruiser
Objective: TBA
Tags:

"We'll reconvene at a later date to give you the results of our investigation, Command Sergeant Lowe. Due to your extenuating circumstances this will likely be delivered via holonet connection on Prefsbelt." The voice rang out from above, where a triad of officers peered down at Karina from their cushioned seats. She herself stood facing the Review Board, in the centre of the room. She spoke evenly, her gaze flitting between each of the ranking men.

"I wish to thank the board for their consideration. I hope to have this matter resolved as soon as possible."

The portly captain on the right of the trio nodded sagely. There was a stain- food- on his shirt.

"As do we, Command Sergeant, as do we.. But these things take time, and the review process must be followed to the letter."

"Of course Captain. I understand."

"That is all Command-Sergeant, you may leave us."

Breathing out a sigh, Karina left the room and walked brusquely down the corridor, making a beeline for the turbolifts that would take her to the lower floors. She checked the time. Not too late. Hopefully her squads had made it to the assembly point in time. She figured everyone would already be there. They, unlike her, weren't wrapped up in the bureaucratic intricacies of the Review Board, and she had confidence they could take care of themselves.

Still, Karina was glad the hearing had finished in time for her to deploy with the main group. The idea of filling out reports and jumping through hoops while her troops fought and died filled her with revulsion. Karina ran a hand over her face, feeling the smooth new artificial skin. It was strange, walking around without her faceplate. After all that time with the metal fused to her skull, part of her, she felt naked without it.

The turbolift doors opened with a hiss and Karina hurried to the bunks, quickly slipping into her field uniform, then heading out to grab her kit. Finally, satisfied she had everything she needed, and a little out of breath, Karina entered the hangar, looking around for any familiar faces in the crowd.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

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Objective III : Pre-Staging Point : “Lets build a sand castle, kids.”
Location: Talon-class Star Galleon
Tags: Kolson Vrask + who ever wants to build a bear base!
Post: 1

“ETA is three minutes, standing by for hyperdrive disembark Colonel..”

“Very good, prepare a ship wide countdown, I want all personnel to their stations. When we arrive open communications and focus all power to shields until we slip past blockade,” Voi’kryt droned, offering a half glance to the flight officer, she was busy adjusting the timer on her arm panel for extra measure. The command was bathed in an ocean of blue from the stream of hyperspace and the bridge team casted shadows onto the durasteel walls surrounding them. The light bordered maddening to stare at, Voi’kryt tightened her grip on her helmet casting her eyes aside, she didn’t hear the officer’s confirmation. Turning toward the Captain hovering at her right, nodding as she marched toward the blast doors. The two women falling into sync as they exited the bridge. Stopping short as she saw the woman out. “Appw’rii I want you take Rifle Teams One through Three, when we’re past the blockage-take the MAAG’s and stick close. When we’re planet side, take up a tri-guard.”

“Yes ma’am-orders if we’re engaged in the dissent?” She halted, lining her helm up and slipping it on; the voice modulator crackling briefly.

“We’re going for speed, we can’t afford any dog fights-evade don’t engage unless someone puts the barrel to their head for you,” Voi’kryt said, she was trusting the Lord Colonel to make the call when a window of opportunity arose after all-he was their shield and sword amidst the escort. The galleon played host to some of the 12th’s engineers, and they needed to get planetside immediately.. Everything from power cells to walls were sitting burning a hole in the cargo hold. Glancing down as the minutes ticked down, Voi’kryt jerked her head toward the hall. “Double time Captain, I want everyone loading up now.”

“No glorious speech Colonel?” The Captain’s joke had an air of caution, and Voi’kryt raised a brow.

“Shoot ‘em Appw’rii, shoot ‘em good.” Voi’kryt bit out dryly as she watched the woman take off sprinting. Retreating back to the command post, her helm and hands were tucked behind her back as she stood in wait.

"Arriving in one minute ma'am.."

 

[Avernus]

Post: 1
Location: Hangar Bay Aboard the HIMS Vanadium
Objective II: Boarding Action
Tags: Joycelyn Zambrano | Karina Lowe | Anyone else who wishes to join.

Avernus couldn't help but sigh as he sat down in the pilot seat of the Upsilon-class shuttle. He stared forward through the viewport, past all of the various ships and people running through the hanger to their ships, zoning out to the strobing pattern of the hangar's magnetic shield. There were about a thousand other places he'd rather be and a thousand more things he'd rather be doing, but this was his obligation for the moment. It was fortunate he believed so strongly in The Empire since that faith was the one thing that motivated him to adhere to such obligations rather than abandon them to indulge in other pursuits. He came out of his trance just enough to put his elbow on the armrest and slump his cheek into his palm.

The rest of the shuttle's crew hustling through the ship's pre-flight checklist was all a distant blur to him as he continued being lost in his own head. He took some solace in knowing that he would have leave once Tammar belonged to The Empire. He hoped whoever had been assigned or otherwise decided to come aboard this shuttle for the boarding mission was at least competent, as he didn't want this to take longer than it had to. He was confident enough in himself, but he didn't generally trust anyone else to perform to standard.

"M-my lord?" One of the shuttle crew regarded Avernus with an inquisitive air of caution, seeing that Avernus had hardly moved since he sat down. Avernus sat up, shaking his head as he snapped out of his trance of discontent. He stared blankly at the crewman for a moment, still on the edge of returning to his previous state.

"We're ready to begin the ignition sequence." The crewman stated expectantly, doing his best not to sound disrespectful as he had interrupted the Siths... whatever he was doing. "Ah." Avernus responded absently, still remembering where exactly he was. "Of course," he responded, turning to the control board of the cockpit and flipping up three switches one at a time. The ship began to rumble lightly, the vibrations of the initial activation being snuffed out by the stabilizers in a matter of seconds. As the ship became stable, he flipped a final switch and turned a knob on the other side of the controls. The whirring hum of the engines began to pick up as the ignition sequences were completed.

As soon as the rest of the boarding team showed up, they would be ready to take off. Avernus sighed again, wanting nothing more than to get the acquisition of this dreary ball of sand and rock over with.

 

[Marrow]

Objective III: Glorious Conquest. We're doing what?
Location: Talon-class Star Galleon
Tags: Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt & Kolson Vrask
Post Number I
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Flying right through the blockage - yes, that way lay glory. Let someone else busy themselves with whatever silliness usually transpired during a boarding action, he preferred solid earth beneath his feet - all the better to water the soil with the blood of the unworthy.

Making his way past a pair of sentinels and glaring them back into position when they looked like they considered impeding the progress of a trueborn son of Korriban, he found the officer in charge. Or so he thought. Humans all looked alike.

"Dzuontai!" Couldn't remember their silly titles either, "commander" in Sith would do. "I take it you are on the way to the battlefield? If yes, I shall accompany you; we shall have to see whether these puny colonials have any proper warriors among them - I have need of a good fight!"

Better than Mandalore, hopefully - at least now he knew what an ancestors-cursed impact grenade was.

 

[Eye of Solomon]

Objective III: Staging Point
Location: Aboard the Sith-Imperial Courier, Swiftarrow
Tags: Raya Najwa Zambrano

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A spark ignited a small flame, illuminating the sharp patrician features of the man using the flame to light his cigarra. His black hair was cropped short and slicked back with grease, his facial hair was styled to run along the length of his noticeable jawline with a separate patch of hair on his upper lip. Much like his father, the man's eyes were a brilliant emerald though the faintest flecks of bright violet spoke of his mother's more occult origin. His clothing was highly aristocratic, a double-breasted jacket pinned with the symbol of his family, the Eye of the Solomon. Around him were members of his father's Crownguard, their armor a glittering scarlet against the dull gray metal walls of the courier's hold. Other members of the Imperial Family were with him, though he was the eldest out of all of them.​

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"Five minutes out, Prince," spoke the pilot over the intercom, prompting the Prince to put out his cigarra on the metal deck. He rose, lightsaber tinkling at his side, and turned to speak to the assembled Princes and Princesses. "Almost time, hopesi'. I hope you're all ready, going to be a bumpy ride." The Swiftarrow exited hyperspace moments later, weaving through the increasingly chaotic battle around the blockade. As swift as its name suggested, the courier bobbed and weaved through the dangerous conflict and managed to slide down into Tammar's atmosphere. ​

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Finding a stable patch of land, the courier came down and popped open its disembarkation ramp. Prince Grigore was the first to emerge, his unlit lightsaber held in his right hand.​

 

[Kolson Vrask]

Objective: III​

Post: 1​

Focus: Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt | Marrow ​

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Aboard the bridge of Talon-class Star Galeon ; perhaps the highest ranking officer present he seemed content to let Lyra take control. Inspite of his higher command he seemed far more in his comfort zone to command a Task Force at a time rather than taking the reigns of an entire battalion embedded within larger strategic movements.

Whilst his commanding officer recovered from recent events which left him within deep rehabilitation ; demanding more responsibility for the Chiss Lord Colonel to command his host.

"I'd not be so confident of any 'warrior' stock here, Sith ." The Chiss stated, uncrossing his arms as he peered between him and Lyra.

"Tammar is a world of fattened merchants and bureaucrats - this is no place that will offer a proper fight." Wirm stated flatly ; carrying himself with characteristic cold stoicness. A familiar cadence to Colonel Voi'kryt.​

 

[Kascalion Giedfield]

Location: The Grave Keeper (Preventor II-class Interdictor Battlecruiser)
Objective: Boarding Action
Allies: Sith Empire, Avernus
Enemies: Tammarians

It was unlike the Devil Lion to partake in the conquering of a planet or star system, or rather combat in general. Crippling social anxiety and the overwhelming fear of releasing the evil within him, glazed with a generally greater interest in studying and creating beasts and machines, often kept the man from these events. As such, he would often rely on his siblings to deal with any combative requirements he developed and held, hiding in the back ranks directing or daydreaming whilst the world burst aflame around him.

Today was different. Today, he held no anxiety. Today, he held no fear. The Invasion of Mandalore had awakened that evil within him, forced the true Devil to the surface from the core of his heart. A bloodlust, deep and savage, had grown within him and began driving him to desire combat and death, much like his dear brother Lorale, much like how he was as a child. The man that stood upon the bridge of the newly commissioned battlecruiser dubbed Grave Keeper was a new man, a new proxy, a new Kascalion Giedfield.

Clad in the finest shimmersilk dyed gold and green and laced with armorweave, Kascalion's new proxy, a tall grey-skinned humanoid with a glowing blue crystal embedded in its chest, stared out to the blockade of Tammar with an interest once uncharacteristic for the Dark Councilor. His heart pounded as his ears rang and his eyes widened. It was a modest blockade that presented their challenge to the Empire, one that would never present a formidable force in Galactic fighting, but perhaps one in defending their home planet. Within the hour, the void of space would be lit on fire and the defenders would face the wrath of the Empire. But it was not the blockage in its entirety that was his focus. Rather, it was the ship in the center of the blockade. An Acclamator II-class assault ship, little room for soldiers, space sacrificed for weaponry, filled predominately with crewmen. A perfect battlefield for himself and his assassins who waited eagerly, silently, coldly in the shadows of the bridge, their blades sharpened and hungry.

"My Lord Kascalion, Darth Avernus and his allies have departed for the Acclamator," the ship's aged captain, Delmoc Sheek, informed the Dark Councilor. "They appear to be on the same goal as yours."

The proxy smirked with a slight nod, "Good. Is my shuttle prepared?"

"Yes, Lord Kascalion," the captain confirmed.

The smirk widened to a smile, "Good. I shall depart then as well. You have command, Captain Sheek. Aid the fleet in destroying this rabble."

And with those words, the Devil Lion departed for the hangar and his shuttle, his assassins slinking behind him within the shadows. Woe would come upon the inhabitants of that ship, death upon their lineage, and an end to their way of life. Glory to the Sith Empire.

 

[Raya Najwa Zambrano]

Objective III: Staging Point
Location: Aboard the Sith-Imperial Courier, Swiftarrow
Tags: Eye of Solomon

Grigore always smells like cigarras. This was lesson one in Prince Grigore, eldest son of Kaine & Anastasia. One of my fellow imperial brood. A good ten years on me, Grigore leads today, our half-brother Khabir at our side. Where Vandypands went I know not… although I’m in one heck of an assumption that she’s pretty nearby.

I smooth out the loose armourweave tunic under my alchemized grey leather jacket, all buckles and clasps created to be as silent as I can be, when infiltrating.

“Ready and ready, Prince Bro-gore.” I hop up from checking on the clasps on my grey boots, stretching high. Doesn’t take long to trot over to Grigore and hand him an ornate oxygen mask with compressed tank. “I’ll scout out some resistance spots once we land. Get you the best targets. And we’ve all got our rebreathers, right? Oxygen and all? Just in case.”

Zambrano or not, I smirk over at my brother and give him a monumental hug, fighting a yelp as the ship pitches and yaws through the blockade at a suicidal run. “Eep!”

Ducking down to keep balance, I wait out the bumpy ride, my katana firm at my side. My own oxygen canister is against my right thigh, strapped beside a vibroblade. I slip the rebreather port in my mouth and chomp down as the hangar bay opens and Grigore is first to exit, and I trot off behind him, patting his back as the White Current bends around me, shielding my body from view.

“See you first.” I run off into the distance, seeking any useful intel as I go.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

Objective III : Staging Point : “I even colored coded the itinerary guys,c’mon!”
Location: Talon-class Star Galleon
Tags: Kolson Vrask Marrow
Post: 2

The Colonel almost recognized the word, but she didn’t waste the breath summoning the knowledge; it meant something. There was always a cold feeling where the Sith wandered and she tore her attention away from the transparisteel windows, turning on her heel to face the force user. If the Chiss's presence wasn't already eerie enough. Voi’kryt’s expression was calm but a facade. She had hoped to forget about the Talon’s honored guest..

“Disengaging hyperspace in five..four..three..two...one.”

The backdrop changed behind the Colonel, emerging from hyperdrive into a cluster of violence. Starships engaging and cannon fire dancing through space. They enter the space field below the main fire lines, trailing behind a destroyer.

"Shields at one hundred percent ma'am!"

Voi'Kryt glanced to Wirm, he had not shown any interest in taking the helm and her annoyance bubbled. She had never run blockades..but she knew better than to underestimate the Tammar blockade; errant bolts and fighters chasing ahead of them. At Least the Chiss was keeping up Tavlar’s spirit in the Lord General’s absence.

"Star fighters are ready to deploy!"

“Navigation find us an opening and begin the descent. Star fighters stand by!” The Colonel turned her head giving the order, she had to trust the men to do their job.

“My lord..,” Voi’kryt began with an ounce of patience glancing back to the Sith, it seemed with the man’s presence the flight crew had doubled their interest in their own stations; few daring to stray a look in their direction. She ate her own sigh and turned her attention to the interface panel on her armor, tapping it; a small localized holomap flickering to life. One ear listening to the deck officers and the Lord Colonel's assessment of the locals.

She had to wonder if the Sith had received the mission brief, this wasn’t a glorious trail blazing mission..hadn’t she sent him an aid?

“Our goal is to make landfall in the open sand fields, we expect some local muster-mostly miners and some trained enforcers but our objective is to guard the Engineer corps and the conscripted workforce as they lay groundwork for a base of operations. We’re not laying siege to anything..” Voi’kryt tapped the interface, shutting down the map.

“Adjusting course, their left flank is taking heavy damage-we can slip past ma’am!” A head popped up from the front control panels.

“Full speed then!”

“Seven hundred km h and growing.”

The ship hummed as Control guided under the shadow of the escorting destroyer, the battle raging. The galleon’s speed made up for the lack of armor as they skimmed below the thickest of the fighting, the shields rippling from impact as some smaller vessels trained on them. The vibrations shook the hull of the ship, but the Talon was a meaty ship.

“Reflector shield levels are at ninety percent, we have three BTL-B Y-wing’s hampering us! ”

“One of their Acclamator’s on the right flank is adjusting turbolasers, they see us ma’am.”

“Deploy the tie-fighters, they’re only to engage the smaller star fighters..Continue the descent, issue ship wide warning prepare for impact.”

The BY wing’s were no better than flies. The Colonel crossed the deck, standing at the widest panel to view the fight, the tie-fighters deploying from both sides of the Talon and swarming around the hull chasing the blockade fighters. The squad was halved in the face of the construction vehicles they needed on the ground side. The empire’s ships danced in pairs over the battlefield as they passed under the blockade. They were not in the clear yet. An alarm went off on her right as an explosion passed just out of view of the bridge, it was the scrap left of a tie-fighter.

“They’re targeting the engines, shields are at eight percen-”

The whole ship rocked in a flurry of multiple shots picking along the top hull and Voi’kryt gripped the ledge closest to her, grinding her teeth together; holding her chin aloft amidst the destruction. She rather be knee deep in a swamp and shavit then on a floating piece of metal. Adjusting her stance the woman stepped back and folded her hands once more. There was the Acclamator’s shots.

“Get us out of their range!” Voi’kryt raised her voice.

“Shields are at sixty percent!”

“Two enemy fighters down, more engaging.”

“Activate both rear turbo lazers, how far are we out of the atmosphere?”

“Five minutes, adjusting speed below five hundred and declining.”

The light of another explosion filled the vision of the main deck, this one had the Colonel narrowing her eyes, raising a hand to shield from the sudden onslaught. Two tie’s emerged victorious; there was no better entertainment out there. The shockwaves rattled the durasteel around them. The rear and fighters engaging as they began the drop on the planet, the worst of the battle behind them. Captain Appw’rii’s three MAAGs emerged, port side popping off several shots catching the tail end of a blockade pilot. The tie-fighters hounded the remaining ships as the damages were listed off. The Colonel scoffed, she’d hear about that one from the woman later. Two ties in the hole, and a third limping along. The ship rumbled as they broke the atmosphere as the shields hung on just under fifty percent. Landing protocols in motion as they were greeted by the endless desert in their approach. The MAAG ships fanned out five kilometers out and took up point, relaying radar signals. They didn’t have any guests yet on the planet side but it would only be a matter of time. The remaining tie-fighters took up patrol as the Talon dropped to hovering, surrounded by wastes but on target; landing struts extending. The ship shook for a final time as they made grounfall, stirring up a great cloud of sand in their wake.

“Present Leftenent?” The Colonel turned, searching the sea of faces. The man perked up, stepping forward at attention. “You have the bridge, see to the shield quality and forward any communications from command to..our comms.”

Voi’kryt regarded the Sith Lord and Chiss, the flight officer snapping in to salute as she marched past. Slipping the black helm over her head and exiting the bridge, the armor clicking steadily with each step. She’d let the Lord Colonel handle the Sith, the blast doors sliding open as she made for the lift. Personnel were running the length of the halls, the lift packed with an array of mechanics and engineers. The Colonel headed straight for the main hangar, joining the remaining squads of Genesis. Voi’kryt ran a hand under her chin, checking the seal as she passed through the last blast doors. A rush of air pressurizing the hall behind her. The hangar was filled with columns of legionnaires, the hydraulics hissing and lowering the main ramps; the light a stark contrast to the fluorescent that filled the hangar. General warnings were issued over the speaker, the conscripts..slaves outfitted with breathing apparatuses in the face of Tammar’s poor oxygen levels. The moment the ramps cleared, crews were rushing forward, hauling hovercarts of cables and slabs off to lay groundwork.

 

[Marrow]

Objective III: Glorious Conquest. We're doing what?
Location: Talon-class Star Galleon
Tags: Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt & Kolson Vrask
Post Number II
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"... this is no place that will offer you a proper fight."

"We're not laying siege to anything..."

Frowning in annoyance, Sarrius only barely managed to keep from swearing loudly in his native tongue. He hadn't asked the naval officer for the details, in fact, he had simply demanded the name of the vessel that would be the first to head "through the breach", then cut her off before she had the time to waste his time with the minutiae of naval operations.

Letting the human officer go without further comment he sighed, turning to the Chiss. The Chiss were the blue ones, no? Cunning warriors? "At least they have the will - and lack of sense - to resist. Perhaps there is some bravery among them if nothing else."

Pausing as he turned slightly, as if to stride forth purposefully, he frowned and turned back. "Where exactly would I need to go, to face their meagre excuse for resistance? Ships were smaller, in my time."

 

[Kolson Vrask]

Objective: III​

Post: 2​

Focus: Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt | Marrow ​

"Aimless are we, Sith?" He asked, arching a brow before eventually taking up the Tenebrae pattern helmet set over a section of control panel on the bridge, sliding it over his blue gaze, turning to the Colonel now that he was donning the full panoply of a Purge Commando.

"A bit more fanfare than I expected to say the least. Your history of service with our mutual superior shows well, Colonel. The lead is yours in this one, Lady Voi'kryt. I've no doubt the Lord General is looking for means to endorse another promotion for you. " Wirm speaks candidly through the distorted comms of his helmet, directed to Lyra. as they move toward the boarding ramp of the vessel - already awash with Sith troopers and slave workers off to start the construction of the base.

It wasn't all too long ago he was embarked on a similar operation on a world at the fringe of Huttese control. Though military leadership was far more of a journey than a destination - it was often the Chiss found events repeating themselves over and over again. Such was the price of an ever expanding Empire. Another world, another subjugation among hundreds behind them under the crimson saber.

"For all the better, Pureblood. I'll delegate that task to you - you are of higher breed yes? You should very well guide us to our final victory far more proficiently than the Csillian." The Purge Commando stated, all the smugness drenching his words. In actuality it might've been very well more fit aboard Epitaph now, charged with leading the 12th Armored Assault Army during his commander's recovery. But even still, he yearned for real ground beneath his feet.

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Location: HIMS Vanadium
Objective II: Boarding Action
Avernus Karina Lowe

Joycelyn Zambrano sat, elbows leaned on her knees, while three medical droids moved their little pincers rapidly over her bare back. With each urgent little pinch, the three, black spheres un-clipped the old stitches and bacta patches plastering the Princess' muscular back and shoulders. The medical equipment peeled away and fell to the floor, where it was picked up by a less fortunate cleaning droid. Meanwhile, Joyce herself stared ahead into the paused hologram of the situation they were headed into.

Pain shot through her mind, and a wince cut her concentration. Joycelyn looked over her shoulder at the droid as it recoiled in fear of her retribution.

"Watch it."

-She barked, shrugging their pincers off and waving the droids away. With a tug, she ripped the last bacta patch off and rose to her feet. Joyce walked straight through the hologram and threw on her shirt. Another droid floated over to help, but she pushed it away and aggressively dressed herself for combat.

The wounds on her body, ironically, hindered her from donning her heaviest armour, but her padded jack and breastplate offered enough protection for a battle like the one they were about to face. Spear, helmet, shield - The kit was that of a protector, giving her reach and defensive capabilities to overcome the disadvantages of her lighter armour.

"But Princess, you have not healed." One of the Crownguard started as she exited her quarters. Joycelyn scoffed in return "I will never heal if I'm stuck in a cell like this." "Just watch my back, and I'll be fine."

Shield strapped to her back, spear leaned on her shoulder, and helmet leaned on her hip, she headed out to meet the others destined for the boarding party. Two crownguard trailed behind her. Despite their masked appearance, they were visibly concerned and on guard. While Joycelyn? Well, if ever there was a woman spoiling for a fight, this was it.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

Objective III : Staging Point
Tags: Kolson Vrask Marrow
Post: 3

“Reserve team Genesis, get an UT-HRT up and guns primed. Looks like we’re getting some incoming armed miners from the south,” the Colonel prioritized communications, reports coming in from the MAAG squads. She stepped out into the sun, pumping the Jackal three times in the air. Signaling to her heavy squad, the rangers filling down behind her into the desolate field. She caught one man carrying a concussion rifle and whistled to herself. It was going to be an exciting day. Their armor’s chameleon effects were delayed, leaving them black specks amidst the sand; waiting for orders.

Adjusting her comms, Voi’kryt spoke solely to the Csillian.

“Lord Colonel please do spare me, we’re getting contact from the south, our transports landing outside I recommend hurrying if you’re coming- and wherever the Sith runs off to make sure he’s got a breathing apparatus. I don’t want to deal with that report. . .” Voi’kryt muttered, well over the entire situation. Rolling her eyes behind the black screen of her helm.

Work crews raced to and from the hangar bay and she drifted along the edge, orders flying from the mouths of overseers. Give her a gun and she could piece that together but Voi’kryt wasn’t foolish enough to be butting heads with the Engineer corps; they were always particular. Machinery was driven off the Talon, pushing over uneven terrain, construction was steady and the tie fighters passed over south bound. The base’s platforms were being reinforced by foundation machinery, sifting through the sand to reach the rock layer buried beneath. A temporary communication tower in the works.

The UT-HRT was launched from the upper decks, circling low and landing in the open space in the galleon’s shadow. When the transport ship's ramp hit the sand, the rangers were boarding and the Colonel stared at her time panel, reluctantly waiting.

 

[Remus Kelbor]

Objective III: Staging Point
Location: Tammar, Tammar System, Tharin Sector, Outer Rim Territories

"An Empire is never peaceably acquired or maintained. It is willed into existence. We are that will."
Admiral Piett
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The Tyrant, a Ferrata-class Planetary Assault Carrier had been dispatched underneath the command of Major General Remus Kelbor, a recently commissioned Major General in the Sith-Imperial Legion or Imperial Army as Remus affectionately called it. Prior to the campaign on Tammar Remus had taken to an extensive review of all his senior officers, officials within the 23rd Sith-Imperial Army that had been handed over to him. Remus sat at his desk and rubbed his temples, he had another headache from the constant drone of the hyperdrive and the travel that never seemed to end in the service to the Emperor. Aside from his study regarding Tammar, its natives and other factors associated with Tammar, he had continued his review of his cadre and had already begun the process of selecting new, more desirable candidates for the 23rd. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment, before he knew it he was awakened by the sound of klaxons and he jumped to his feet. As he leapt to his feet, his second in command entered into the room, an officer who had earned his plaque and had been recently been promoted to the rank of Colonel. "General! We've entered orbit above Tammar." Colonel Govon Sunfell handed the General a dataslate containing information on it. Remus shook his head and darted from his chambers, the Colonel following close in tow behind him.

"Prepare all shuttles, coordinate with the Cradle and immediately prepare my shuttle." Remus was concise and stern with his orders and as he approached the end of his private hallway he was met with several enlisted men that handed him pieces of armor. Despite his rank as Major General Remus did not shy away from combat. In fact, Remus often sought out combat and that is what earned him both a notable reputation as a fierce field commander and more importantly, a dedicated soldier that was respected by his men. As he walked he equipped the plates of his Mark III armor and would place the final pieces on once he boarded the Order his personal courier that would be escorted down to the planets surface. As Remus and the cadre of enlisted men reached the hangarbay to depart for the planet he leaned against the wall as an enlisted man handed him his armored boots. Remus looked up to be met once again with Colonel Sunfell. "What is it Colonel?" Remus questioned. "We have confirmation that Colonel Wirm'nael'armiir and Major Voi'kryt are assigned as well as others." The Colonel was blunt with his words and Remus shook his head. "Thank you perhaps we can ask them how they are doing today and what they want for lunch?" Remus chuckled as he finished putting his boot on and looked up to the Colonel who was unsure of what to do. "Relax Govon, I'm not a Sith. I'm not going to kill you...yet." Remus had stood tall and winked at the Colonel and passed by him.

The next several minutes concluded with Remus stepped onto the Order and giving the confirmation pat on the back of the pilot who similarly nodded and the Sith-Imperial Courier launched from the hangar of the Tyrant. Remus had boarded with his personal squad, known as Jubal Squad and they were lead by a Sergeant Marr. "Stay close. Stay tight. We're going to figure out precisely what needs to be done when we make planet fall. Clear?" There was an eerie almost simultaneous nod to the troopers and Remus peered around and laughed. "Ya'll really need to stop doing that." Remus chuckled as he grabbed his helmet off the rack and held it momentarily in his hands. Remus lifted the helmet up and he placed it on his head, the seals clicked and hissed and the temporary rush of cold air was an affirmation that the environmental lock had taken and he was safe from most environments. Several dozen shuttles and carriers raced off the hangar bay deck towards the shielding and prepared to head down to the marked landing zone.

 

[Marrow]

Objective III: Glorious Conquest. We're doing what?
Location: Talon-class Star Galleon
Tags: Kolson Vrask , Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt , & Remus Kelbor
Post Number III
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The Chiss was all but mocking him - the smug bastard must be astute enough to know that Sarrius, despite his superior nature, had little to no experience leading men. No matter, he would not give him the satisfaction; as a trueborn son of Korriban, he was destined to lead, a lack of training mattered little.

"Certainly, dzuontai, it will be my... pleasure to handle the rabble." At the very least, his ritual blade would be sated this day.

Setting of a confident pace after having an oxygen mask all but pushed on him, he did not give a rat's ass if the "Lord Colonel" followed him or not. Contact from the south was all he needed to know - he would literally whip these Legionnaires into shape, if he had to, and then glorious battle would be joined... or, well, battle. Butchering rabble was better than nothing.

Walking directly into a gunship holding Legionnaires, he immediately began giving out orders, though luck alone seemed to have landed him with a group already being sent where he was going. "You! There is a smudge on your rifle, kill five or more hostiles or I shall have you flogged! Pilot! We are heading towards the enemy, now!"

Truly, his "natural charisma" was a sight to behold.

 

[Melia Siari]

DEVIL's TRILL SONATA

Objective I
HIMS 'Cradle'

They hadn't even arrived in the system when the blockade had formed - an absolutely pointless exercise in futility - and now that the small invading force had arrived it appeared that the anti-Imperial influence of the local mining union was one which needed to be stamped out. A sparse cloud of capital ships dotted the black void of space, ships that hadn't seen active service since the days of the Galactic Empire numbered among their ranks, most of which were assault cruisers and small destroyers. It was curious that a mining union would have invested so much of their meager profits on a defensive force, but she supposed that they likely had companies in their market chain that were heavily sympathetic to the anti-Imperialist cause.

A shame.

Emerging from her cabin, Captain Melia Siari was easily identifiable not only by her bright pink skin but also the officer's uniform and the series of pins along her lapel. Slender hands took turns adjusting the cuffs of her sleeves, ensuring they were folded properly, as the captain strode through the halls on the way to the bridge. Like so many of those who numbered the crew of the Cradle, Melia was a career officer and was dead set on making sure this operation ran smoothly - it wasn't every day that a captain was given the opportunity to make a case for a promotion, and while the satisfaction of ensuring the Empire would add yet another world to its clutches she could not deny that she had accepted the transfer request in order to make the idea much more pleasing to her superiors.

"What is the situation, have we made any headway with the blockade yet?" She asked as she made her way through the bridge and to her position in its center, where the seat which allowed her the greatest field of view over the rest of the crew present on the bridge as well as the viewport to the void of space beyond was designated for her as the captain of the vessel. "Reports have came in that we have some smaller craft breaking away to run through the blockade in an effort to make landfall in order to set up a forward base for when the Armada inevitably breaks through. A plan for a boarding party to reach the Acclamator II housing the instigator of this blockade, Mister Kistemar, has also been set in motion, per your request. It also appears that the daughter of the Emperor, Darth Vornskr the Second, is to be among their number." Came the voice of the ship's communication officer, a role she'd occupied before her promotion to captaincy some months prior.

She nodded with satisfaction at the report while she sat down in her chair, legs crossing almost immediately as she reached for a control switch at the end of the left armrest and leaned in towards a microphone on the desk-like panel in front of her. "We will make today like any other day for the Empire, a step towards progress - progress to order for the good of the galaxy - with another planet converted into a cog for the Imperial machine." Melia declared over the ship's communications systems, the short line acting as something of a motivational note that she'd start any engagement with to set the mood and morale of her crew, which broadcast her words to the rest of the working troops aboard the massive carrier.

With the flick of a switch the microphone she had shut off the microphone, nodding to her communications officer who then did the one thing that set Siari apart from the majority of officers in the Armada in her position - orchestral music, the sort that would play for an opera devoted to their Emperor, was now playing at a low, but still audible, level over the ship's comms, each note heard from every corner of the ship. The tune was oddly a morale booster, its melody inspiring the crew as it had been written for a tale of war.

"Let us progress forward - but slowly. The rest of the fleet should be moving slightly ahead of us to keep us clear of any overzealous ships defending the planet, our goal isn't to push through by defeating the enemy in a direct engagement, we want to succeed in our boarding ploy first and obtain a victory without putting our troops making that effort at risk. Trade fire back if we're fired upon, but otherwise keep shots clear of the target vessel. The supreme art of war is to subdue an enemy without fighting - let this be a reminder for those watching that the Empire can dominate without relying on overwhelming force." She directed, the ship lurching forwards at a casual pace upon her command. On either side of the carrier other ships that numbered the invading force, destroyers and the like, pushed forwards at a slightly faster pace than the Cradle, just as she had said.

 

[Karina Lowe Legacy]

Location: Aboard the HIMS Vanadium, Harrower-Class Cruiser
Objective: II, Board the enemy Acclamator II and eliminate Nakdaar Kistemar
Tags: Avernus | Joycelyn Zambrano

It didn't take long to organise the boarding party once she arrived. Within a minute of entering the hangar, Karina had managed to shove down the mix of feelings churning inside her, and narrow her focus on the mission ahead. Their task was simple, but it had many moving parts. This required her full concentration. She couldn't allow herself to be distracted.

The shuttle was up ahead and having corralled the two squads into position, Karina started towards it, her soldiers falling in behind her. There were a few familiar faces in there, but largely they were unknowns, specialists in the style of close, vicious combat of which boarding consisted. She climbed the boarding ramp of the craft, her ocular senses adjusting near instantly as she stepped into the gloom. The troops filed in and strapped themselves to their seats, but Karina headed to the cockpit, gesturing in greeting towards the Sith Pureblood sitting at the helm.

"Darth Avernus. I'm Command-Sergeant Lowe. I'll be heading the boarding party assigned with you for this mission. Is everything rea-"

Karina cocked her head, listening intently as a communique crackled briefly through her artificial ears.

"It seems Darth Vornskyr will be joining us. The Lady Zambrano will arrive shortly."

She tried to keep her voice neutral, but failed to keep the waver of uncertainty from appearing as she spoke. Karina turned her gaze down the length of the shuttle, awaiting the arrival of the Emperor's daughter.

 

[Eye of Solomon]

Objective III: Staging Point
Location: Planetside
Tags: Raya Najwa Zambrano

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"Of course."​

​

The Prince graciously accepted the oxygen supply from his younger sister, affixing the rebreather over his face as the boarding ramp lowered to the ground. What greeted them was an arid waste, covered in sand and typical foliage found among the drier climates of the galaxy. Several small rodents scurried away as the Prince's guard fanned out, their crimson armor a stark contrast to the more benign earthy tones of their surroundings. Running a hand through his hair, Prince Grigore retrieved a datapad from his satchel and began to take notes on the environment, taking holographic surveys when needed. ​

​

He was far into his thoughts on the stability of the ground beneath the sand when shots began to ring out, blaster bolts singing through the air as Union soldiers on a nearby embankment attempted to catch the Empire's forces off-guard. Unfortunately for them, they face no mere Legionnaires but the Emperor's own personal guard themselves. Grigore didn't even bother igniting his lightsaber, his advanced senses allowing him to gracefully dance out of harm's way while the Crownguard effortlessly dispatched the attacks with precision efficiency.​

​

"Retrieve the bodies," ordered the Prince, and when that was done he knelt down by one of the more intact corpses and produced a small flask. Inside the flask was a special liquid, brewed by himself with the alchemy of the ancient Nightsisters, which he then forced the body to drink. Interestingly enough, the corpses were not of the native Tammarians, but were foreign and wore distinct clothing with what appeared to be corporate markings. After ingesting the concoction, the body was suddenly thrust back into an unnatural life. Susceptible to the Prince's powers of persuasion, the corpse revealed what mining conglomerate they worked for when asked.​

​

"The Outer Rim Oreworks Company? I didn't know they did business in this sector, but interesting to know..." The Prince then set the body alight with the Force, letting it consume the other corpses as well. ​

 

[Raya Najwa Zambrano]

Objective III: Staging Point
Location: Planetside
Tags: Eye of Solomon Vandra Zambrano

The image of me giving my brother a salute fades slower than my natural speed as I rush through the White Current past arid land. Shooters on a point up ahead start firing at my family, and I feel the confidence of the Crownguard to protect my own. Grigore knows his way around danger better than I do.

After all, I’m the odd Zambaby out, it seems.

I sprint on, rushing past the next embankment where more shooters wait for a piece of the Sith. Wait to protect their encampment. Skidding to the side, I flatten out against the side wall of a temporary metal structure and catch my breath.

'Gri, there’s forty-six visible between you and the pass. They’ve built a camp, we could use it. Come down the northwest side, I’ll pick off the strays…' Sliding around the side, I keep at a hush, putting the layout in my head, how many steps between buildings. Anything the Sith can use. I peek through a window and see people milling about bunks separated by plastic sheeting for walls, ‘Really temporary. Looks hastily made… two barracks, a store room, and four speeders with mounted guns. Tons of industrial equipment.’

My sword slices out, stabbing through the back of a worker’s throat, the scuff of me grabbing them before they hit the ground, propping the being up on the side wall. Two guards heighten, the barracks emptying as the battle rushes toward my siblings.

‘More coming at you.’ I let the image of the camp filter into my brother and sister’s minds, the route I took, the placement of the buildings. Rushing through, I head back around to the speeder pool, taking explosives from my belt. Diving to the ground, I slap an explosive charge to the undercarriage to each of the four armoured speeders, rolling between. Soldiers filter onto the speeders, two veering off toward my family.

As I let my powers slip away, I dive behind a container half-full of mining supplies.

“Follow the boom.” The detonator depresses under my thumb, as four massive kabooms rock the landscape and the rest of the workers in this encampment swerve.

“So fellow workmen! How’s it going?” I grin from the top of the container, hoping this was enough of a distraction for the resistance to panic.