Commander Tarian remained aboard
Aurora Station as it held silent watch above the city of Ravalin,each officer speaking in low tones as streams of data scrolled across the holotables. It was there that Tarian first received the notification: two CX-902 Dagger-class infiltrators had crossed the outermost border of Diarchal space.
At first, the alert registered as routine. Border systems were layered with overlapping surveillance grids, and every vessel that breached those thresholds was logged, catalogued, and assessed. The infiltrators had emerged from hyperspace without incident, but their transponders remained dark. Each time they reverted to realspace in successive systems on their trajectory toward Bastion, they were immediately illuminated by the lattice of Orbital Defense Platforms stationed throughout Diarchal territory. Hundreds of ODP arrays pinged the vessels in disciplined sequence, active scans layering over passive sweeps, gathering hull composition, power signatures, mass distribution, and drive output. silently trackign them each time they bypassed cicilian traffic.
Initially, Fleet Intelligence categorized the behavior as probable smuggling. Civilian screening protocols were strict, and it was not uncommon for black-market operators to weave through Diarchal systems hoping to exploit traffic congestion or automated clearance corridors. Rather than intercept immediately, the decision was made to allow the infiltrators to continue under controlled observation. Their routes were mapped. Their micro-jumps were timed. Patrol craft adjusted vectoring patterns subtly, ensuring that no blind corridor remained truly blind. The Diarchy would let them run and catch them in the act if contraband or illicit passengers were confirmed.
That assessment shifted the moment the two vessels began atmospheric descent toward Bastion.
As they pierced the upper layers of the planet's atmosphere, both ships activated TIC transponders. Identification codes flared across the tracking display in crisp, unmistakable signal bursts. The tags were legitimate. The encryption keys matched the standing diplomatic records. The vessels now claimed affiliation with the TIC, a polity currently on friendly but measured terms with the Diarchy.
An unannounced arrival of that nature was not routine. Not at Bastion. let alone from diplomats. The fact that these ships bypassed all civilian screening immediately flagged them as a possible hostile force.
Tarian's expression did not change as the identification markers shifted from unknown to recognized. Instead, he leaned slightly forward over the holotable, studying the synchronized descent profiles. Friendly states did not dispatch infiltrator-class vessels without prior notification, and they certainly did not run dark across multiple Diarchal systems before revealing their allegiance at the threshold of the capital world.
He issued orders without raising his voice. All TIC-flagged vessels within Diarchal territory were to be logged and cross-referenced immediately. Traffic around Bastion was to be elevated to heightened monitoring status. Civilian lanes would remain open to avoid signaling hostility, but military patrol density in orbit was quietly increased. ODP targeting solutions were updated in the background, not locked, but calculated.
By the time the two Daggers cut deeper into Bastion's atmosphere, Tarian had already expanded surveillance to include all TIC communications traffic within operational range. Data analysts began parsing encrypted bursts for irregular cadence or deviation from standard diplomatic cipher structure. Customs authorities were alerted to prepare discrete inspection teams. No public advisories were issued.
From Aurora Station, Commander Tarian watched the icons descend toward the world below, their trajectories steady and deliberate. Whether the visit proved benign or otherwise, the Diarchy would not be caught unaware. In Diarchal space, even allies were observed.
Each time a TIC chain code was transmitted, the Lilaste Order responded in coordination with the network, issuing green clearance confirmations that reflected across customs relays and orbital control arrays. To the infiltrators, the passage would have appeared seamless. Clearance acknowledged. Authorization verified. Transit approved. No deviation flags. No interdiction warnings. The illusion of routine compliance was deliberate.
Behind that illusion, however, layered surveillance tightened with each checkpoint passed.
Shadow protocols were activated quietly. Lilaste Order commandos were assigned to discrete tracking rotations, deploying in staggered patterns across probable landing vectors. Their insertion craft remained outside standard traffic corridors, running low-emission profiles and refraining from direct sensor illumination. The infiltrators were never engaged, never hailed, never forced to alter course. They were simply followed.
The prevailing assessment among Diarchal intelligence cells was cautious but pointed. Analysts debated probabilities. Mandalorian reconnaissance assets operating under false transponders. Contract assassins testing perimeter responses. Bounty hunters probing for high-value targets near Bastion. None of the possibilities were dismissed.
Commander Tarian observed the pattern without speculation clouding his judgment. He did not assume hostility, but he did not permit trust to substitute for verification. Then the name appeared.
As another TIC clearance cascade processed through the network, a specific chain code identifier scrolled across Aurora Station's primary tactical display. The clearance was valid. The encryption was authentic. It belonged to
Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory
The designation triggered an immediate cross-reference sweep through Bastion's property registries and diplomatic logs. CEO of N&Z and a governor within TIC. a prime assassination target.
As the infiltration ships landed at an abandoned property. An old naval academy that the Lilaste order purchased and then gifted to
Edwards
and Millennium for research and development purposes. Tarian's posture shifted almost imperceptibly as he took in the converging data. An unannounced infiltration run across multiple Diarchal systems, culminating at a freshly granted R&D site, was no coincidence. It was intent. He acted without delay.
Orbital overwatch grids re-tasked to establish full-spectrum surveillance over the estate's coordinates. Civilian airspace in the immediate vicinity was quietly rerouted under the pretense of routine atmospheric calibration exercises. Ground-based sensor nodes in the district were activated from dormant status, their feeds routed directly to Aurora's command deck. No alarms sounded publicly. No defensive batteries powered to visible readiness. From the outside, Bastion remained calm.
'Sentinel' Janius Everwall
Norbert Oro
"
Get the Iron Creed and the Angels of Meu Skyward now. Load them into a gunship and send them planetside. Get me in contact with the nearest Lilaste Order battalion and contact
Tarn Ekkard
and the DISF forces. I want troops and gunships surrounding that building. Get ahold of the Meuians. Warn Millennium of what is coming their way."
Commander Tarian did not raise his voice, yet the command deck reacted as if he had struck it. The CIC lighting shifted instantly from sterile white to deep crimson, bathing consoles and armored officers alike in warning glow. Alert glyphs cascaded across the primary holodisplay as Bastion's defensive grid transitioned from passive observation to controlled readiness.
Operators moved with rehearsed precision. Secure lines opened to Tarn Ekkard through encrypted military channels. DISF command nodes acknowledged priority signal traffic. Planetary defense controllers began vectoring gunships from standby hangars, their launch sequences initiated without broadcast. The Iron Creed and the Angels of Meu were roused from station readiness.
Tarian stepped forward to the central holotable as perimeter overlays formed around the targeted structure. A tightening ring of icons marked incoming units. Gunships fanned outward in overlapping arcs, establishing aerial containment before ground forces even arrived. Sensor buoys dropped from high orbit began relaying atmospheric telemetry in real time, eliminating any blind angle within a five-kilometer radius.
"
Warn the High Commander," Tarian added, his tone level but final.
A dedicated channel opened immediately toward Laphisto's command priority network. Situation brief packets transmitted in compressed bursts: unidentified infiltrator vessels, TIC chain codes, unannounced landing at an R and D property, rapid-response containment initiated. No speculation. Only verified data. Below, the estate remained outwardly still.
The Arkanian
Null-23 and his detachment were, by all appearances, creatures of the armory rather than the parade ground. Clad in full Lilaste Order combat plating, their armor bore the hardened geometry and matte finish of soldiers accustomed to live engagements rather than ceremonial presence. Among the standard DAF personnel stationed throughout the complex, they stood apart immediately. Where the DAF wore structured uniforms and visible insignia of civil authority, the commandos carried the quiet weight of battlefield deployment. Weapons were slung but not relaxed. Visors remained sealed. They were not there for optics.
A coded transmission flickered across Null-23's internal display. He raised a gauntleted hand to the side of his helmet, receiving the encrypted burst without breaking stride. A brief series of acknowledgments passed between him and command. No visible urgency, no outward alarm, yet the subtle tightening of posture among his men signaled the shift.
Across the chamber, the TIC delegate stood engaged in low conversation with administrative staff, unaware of the tightening perimeter unfolding beyond the walls.
Null-23 stepped forward. His movements were deliberate, neither hurried nor hesitant. The rest of his squad adjusted positions almost imperceptibly, forming a loose, unobtrusive lattice around the room's exits. No weapons were raised. No civilians were displaced. It was containment through presence alone.
He stopped before the TIC delegate and inclined his helmeted head slightly in acknowledgment. When he spoke, his voice carried through the vocoder in controlled, even modulation. "
Sir, we have reason to believe an attempt may be made on your life. You need to come with me."
The words did not rise in pitch, nor did they invite debate. "
Mandalorians have infiltrated Diarchal space under the guise of a TIC landing party. With current ongoing hostilities and a possible TIC alliance still in the works, it is imperative you accompany us immediately."
Around them, DAF personnel exchanged brief glances but did not interfere. They recognized the authority of the Lilaste order. Beyond the walls of the facility, gunships were already repositioning. Surveillance grids had locked onto atmospheric vectors. The situation had escalated beyond diplomatic courtesy. Null-23 extended a gloved hand toward the secured corridor behind him, not forceful, but unmistakably directive. "
Your safety is now a military priority.
and i have orders to keep you alive. with or without your consent. sir"
Cora
Captain Varn and the Ash Dogs were planetside at a nearby training yard when the priority alert cut across their comms. The yard had been alive moments before with controlled bursts of weapons fire and shouted cadence calls. That noise died instantly as the encoded signal overrode local channels. Varn did not wait for a second transmission.
He gave a sharp, piercing whistle that snapped every helmet in his direction, then barked across both the open air and his internal commlink, his voice layered and amplified through squad frequencies.
"
Mount up. We're deploying. This is not a drill."
There was no hesitation.The Ash Dogs moved like a mechanism snapping into place. Training rifles were dropped for live weapons. Ammunition crates were kicked open. Helmets sealed with sharp metallic clicks as environmental systems spun to life. Armor plates were locked and rechecked in motion. Within seconds, the informal posture of a training rotation transformed into a combat-ready assault element.
Varn strode toward the gunship they had arrived in, snatching his helmet from a crate and locking it into place in one fluid motion. His LO-27R hung heavy at his side. He seized the charging handle and racked it hard, the metallic clack echoing against the training yard's duracrete barriers. The rotary assembly spun briefly as the weapon's diagnostics flashed green across his visor.
He turned and motioned sharply for the platoon to rush the ramp. "
on me" The Ash Dogs surged forward, boots hammering against the boarding ramp as they filed into the troop bay. Gunners strapped into their harnesses. Door mounts were unlocked. The pilot's engines spooled higher, repulsors whining as the gunship prepared for immediate ascent clearance.
Varn's voice cut through the troop compartment as the last of his soldiers secured themselves. "
We've got possible assassins planetside. Possibly after the Diarchs themselves or any member of our high command Until ordered otherwise, aim to wound. Switch to LO-EMP-1.. Max settings."
Magazine swaps followed in synchronized motion. Belts of specialized rounds were fed into housings. Weapon HUDs updated to non-lethal stun payload parameters, though every soldier in the bay understood that "non-lethal" was a matter of calibration and proximity. "
They need to still be able to talk," Varn continued, his tone cold and controlled. "
No one said anything about being able to see."
A few visors dipped in acknowledgment. Outside, the gunship's engines roared as it lifted off the training yard and banked hard toward the estate's coordinates. Other aircraft were already vectoring into a tightening aerial ring. What had begun as a quiet landing had now drawn the attention of some of the most aggressive infantry Bastion could field. The Ash Dogs were no longer training. They were hunting.
Abraxas Colt
|
Aymeric Prendergast
|
Althea Varrick
|
Tavian Rhyse
|
Siyndacha Aerin
|
Valyra Keth
|
Tydeus Shorn
|
DT-1111
|
Diocletian Mecetti
|
Keldan Andro
|
Wulf von Eckhart
Diarch Rellik
|
Lord Mettallum
|
Morta Izanami
|
Diarch Reign
