What're You Doing In My Swamp? | First Order Invasion of Galactic Alliance Held Dagobah Hex

[Nuuc Lapt]

Location: Dagobah swamps

Allies: Galactic Alliance, [member="Mishel Noren"] | [member="Asaraa Vaashe"] | [member="Stephanie Swail"]

Enemies: First Order, [member="Rolf Amsel"] | Whoever else is nearby

Objective: Aid Alliance assets in the swamps


Nuuc's ride was on him quicker than even he had expected, and though the Alliance soldier he'd found ensured him that he was fine where he was, Nuuc wasn't happy about leaving him behind. But there were other Alliance assets in the swamps that needed help. Comms were alight with updates, from skirmishes between Jedi and Knights of Ren to tanks on the ground and combat up in the air.

He stepped into the dropship's loading bay as it rose up, acknowledging Sergeant Osure as the ramp closed and the craft rose up, transparisteel window bays allowing him a view of the swamps below. There were others from the ship he recognized as well. Gino, Darru, and Emmen from the fighter bay, as well as Fridja and Ana from maintenance. It seemed Captain Jelt had sent his best.

Nuuc made his way closer to the cockpit, spotting Carran and Ross in their usual places.

"Don't go too high over the trees," he said. "Stay low to confuse their ship tracking."

"We need to get higher to see where in the hell to drop you guys," Carran replied, shaking his head just a bit.

"No, we don't." Nuuc reached out between them, pointing to a spot a short distance away. "There. Drop us down there. It's wide open enough to put the ship down."

Ross turned his head just a bit, green eyes locking on the large dark irises. "What's down there? I don't see anything."

"He's a damn Jedi," replied Carran with a quiet laugh. "He's using the Force to see thing."

"It doesn't work like that." Nuuc's voice was filled with annoyance, but he understood their misunderstanding. "And I'm not a Jedi. But there's... something there. I can feel it. Someone in distress." He was surprised, in fact, that he could. It wasn't often that he could feel his powers be this strong. But something had happened, something that reinvigorated him, and gave him even more strength in the force. Something powerful. "Put us down there."

Ross and Carran looked at each other momentarily before turning their attention back forward. "You've got it, Nuuc." Carran's response came as he flipped a switch, turning on a red light in the troop area to signal that they were preparing to drop. "Coming up on the ground."

Despite the fighting going on elsewhere in the swamps this area was clear, and the ship landed without trouble. Nuuc led the others out, lightsaber in hand as he tucked the blaster pistol into its side holster. Now that he wasn't alone he could rely on it more, as he had plenty of cover.

"Alright, this way," he said, commanding his unit to follow him into the swamps. "Fan out, don't clump together, but stay close enough that you don't get separated. This crap is thick."

The slow trudge through the swamps was mostly uneventful, a stray trooper or two who'd gotten lost from their unit being dealt with quickly. It was all to easy, but it didn't make him any happier to have done it. They were people too, even if they'd chosen to back an oppressive regime. He wouldn't have been happy if they were his own people that were killed and left behind in the wilderness.

"I'm unarmed!" a voice called out from further up ahead, causing Nuuc to raise a fist in the air, his subordinates dropping to a kneel as they raised their rifles up and aimed forward. "I'm going to stand up now. You can see my hands!"

A second later there was a bang, and shouts from several voices.

Nuuc motioned for the others to move forward slowly. When they came up on the site, he spotted a massive expanse of foam, trapping quite a few of them both standing and down on the ground. Nuuc's men began to circle around, half with their rifles drawn and aimed at the First Order trooper at the epicenter of the mass, and half facing away, watching the swamps for incoming threats.

"Nobody touch that," Nuuc stated firmly as he came to a stop just a couple feet from the expanse. His glance moved from the adhesive up to [member="Rolf Amsel"]. "That's a neat trick. Got any more to show me, or should we just shoot you now and save ourselves the trouble?"

 

[Samka Derith]

[SIZE=11pt]Location: Dagobah Bog[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]Allies: The First Order[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]Enemies: The Galactic Alliance - [member="Veino Garn"][/SIZE]​

​

[SIZE=11pt]Samka’s gloved hand pushed aside some vines. She noted the Jedi had his back to her now which may give her the advantage but when your opponent was Force Sensitive, that was no guarantee. She shrugged the snake off of her shoulders at last, while she’d grown fond of the serpent, it impeded her flexibility and the young Ren needed every advantage she had. The snake complied, slithering its way back down the tree trunk. She’d come look for it once the Jedi was slain.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Snatching her blade from her belt, Samka hovered her thumb over the hilt’s ignition and prepared to strike but something pulled at her, she paused slightly before her attack, counting on the knowledge that the Light primarily acted defensively. At least in theory. Her practical experience with Jedi so far had been quite different.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]A blue tinge began to coat her surroundings. “Hm,” the girl murmured beneath her breath as she remained motionless, merely letting it happen for now as the bubble crackled with energy around her.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]If she remembered her studies correctly, this was a defensive Jedi technique, it took great skill and concentration to turn it on an opponent instead, moving from a shield to a cage. She bit the side of her tongue in displeasure as her opponent negated her greatest advantage, her agility. But perhaps there was still a way to get to him even from here, it didn’t have to be much, only enough to distract her foe.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Luckily, she had a new friend.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Bend to me. Obey your betters.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]A small telekinetic message of dominance sent out to the snake which had just departed down to the swamp floor. How much the serpent moved on its own dark purpose and how much was the Ren’s domination, even Samka could not say. But whatever the reason, the creature moved towards the Jedi with surprising speed, lashing out with venomous fangs at the man. It would likely be harmless, her opponent was armoured but his ability to hold her would be another matter.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]At the same time, she lashed out with her own dark energy. A pulse of ice and fear to shatter the barrier that attempted to hold her and with it, the girl flipped from the tree, igniting her blade to slash down at her opponent’s head as she landed atop him.[/SIZE]

 

[Armand Temi]

Objective: Use Force Slow on [member="Mishel Noren"]
Location: Near the Cave of Evil [Dropship crash wreckage]
Allies: [member="Kyrel Ren"] [member="Therran Graush"] [member="Rolf Amsel"] [member="The Major"] @Karyce [member="Ara Zambrano"] @whoeverismissing
Enemies: Galactic Alliance [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Ever Dawnracer"] [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] [member="Tiland Kortun"] [member="Qymaen sil Jurai"] [member="Jak Sandrow"] [member="Tanaski Yumi"] [member="Stephanie Swail"], @whoeverismissing

Varas felt a tug at her leg and realized that, despite the two women colliding, she was still alive - luckily even as an impact like that could have killed them both. The Knight grunted, saber falling out of her hand, landing with a sploosh in the mud, but she called it back to her hand.

And as soon as she could feel the hilt back in her gloved palm, she also landed with a plop in the ooze, the malodorous silt breaking her fall. She'd been released by the fellow experiment.

On her hands and knees, Varas lifted her head, wet dirt dripping off of her armor. Kyrel's saber was beside her, but as she engaged her muscles to rise, she realized she could barely lift her arms and spine. Mother of Kwath, not the leeches again, she thought, trying to scramble up.

Nothing is broken. There is no pain. But it felt as though an invisible siphon was draining her energy. Peace and calm clashed with her turbulent emotions. The darkside Nexus felt... decidedly weak.

Glancing to her father who had Mishel in his sights, she finally sat up after a brief struggle to do so and concentrated on the Cave of Evil, upon the power that bled from every organic and non-living surface, the immense power that could cause the most vivid hallucinations or could enhance an object, baptizing it with the Dark Side of the Force.

"Help me, convert me... give me power," she whispered. Under her helm, Varas's skin grew sallow, dark circles blossomed like bruises, but her energy grew. In addition to whatever bone-crushing telekinesis Kyrel had inflicted upon the former Ren, the brunette clone thrust her hands out, using the darkside to slow Mishel down. The power manifested itself primarily in the Alliance Jedi's mind, but if she did not deflect it or counter it, Mishel would feel suddenly exhausted, groggy and uncoordinated, certainly not in any physical state to continue zipping around like a laser-pinball.

 

[Rexus Wenck]

Allies: [member="Kyli DT-6767"] | [member="Luther Ando"]
Enemies: [member="Lyra Sunfell"] | [member="Kip Hollaran"] | [member="Sol Stazi"]
Objective: Clear the wounded.
NPC: Dergan Twigg
Equipment: FO-2 Stormtrooper Armour | G-11F Blaster Rifle | Lightsabre | Aegis Shield

​

Rexus watched the exchange of power between the First Order and Galactic Empire stormtroopers with some amusement. He watched as this private, who looked lanky as a bone, and like he'd been on a four day bender attempt to assert his command. When Luther finally asserted the First Order's supremacy, and command, Rexus couldn't help but chuckle. He raised his hand, "Alright lads," He barked. The rainstorm was right over the group now. Water droplets pelted upon his helmet, "Look alive!" Rexus commanded to his compliment of First Order troopers. Wenck looked around, and eyed a Galactic Empire soldier, "Trooper!" He called out. The stormtrooper looked up, and nodded, "Get us to your wounded, we'll haul them to the speeder."

The Galactic Empire trooper nodded, "Understood!" He snapped, before leading the First Order group further into the base camp. The Galactic Empire camp was largely in disrepair. What were once hulking imperial walkers, now sat, slumped into mud. Speeders, and supply crates were strewn about, their contents, now left in muddy puddles in the heat of battle. Wenck couldn't help but feel sorry for these bastards. This was just like Kaeshana. "They're right through here." The trooper motioned to the wreck of a juggernaut, its wheels having sunken into the marshy mud.

"Cheers trooper." Wenck replied, before moving in to the walker, and beginning to clamber up and into the tank. It was a steady climb, and were it not for the gripping on the armour, he would've been doomed. Rexus steadied himself, and pulled his body up and onto the vehicle, before reaching the airlock. The stormtrooper sergeant then unsealed the door, revealing what was a disgusting mess. Immediately, on sight, Rexus gagged. He'd seen a lot of karked up poodoo, and had performed a lot of repugnant actions. But this was some next level stuff.

The juggernauts lights were off, leaving dozens of wounded sat slumped on ground, on makeshift mattresses. Water now seeped in slowly, leaving a thin layer of swampy, bloody water and bile now on the floor. The smell was a different matter all together. Faecal matter and the stench of rotting flesh. It reeked. Rexus pulled out his rifle, and activated his flashlight attached to it, and looked out at the mess of bodies. Many of them were stormtroopers, with hideous and grievous injuries. Shrapnel lodged deep within their bodies, and legs, some having limbs turn green thanks to infection in the tropical heat. The worst in Rexus' mind was one trooper, splayed out on a mattress whimpering. The man was missing an arm, and a leg. But that wasn't the worst, and was really the norm amongst the Galactic Empire's troops. What set him apart was the thick piece of metal shrapnel sticking out from his eye socket. Wenck winced, before moving in.

"Alright," Rexus barked, "You guys be gentle when we do this." He commanded, his voice however held an edge to it. Hints of disgust. The stormtrooper moved in, and approached the man with the most severe injuries. Wenck slid his rifle back into his holster, and then began to gently move his hands, to try and cradle the trooper. The man immediately recoiled, and whimpered in Rexus' grasp. "Shhh.." Rexus whispered, "It's gonna be alright."

The man shook his head, "No, no..." He rasped, his remaining eye closed, as he writhed on the mattress, "We're gonna die here, we're gonna die...." Rexus forcibly slid his hands beneath him, with one hand reaching beneath his head, before he began to lift. Cradling him like a child. Wenck ensured he was gentle, as he stepped out and through the myriad of bodies which had been assembled haphazardly. His boots were now thick with a mixture of blood and muck, when he stormed out. By now, the remainder of his stormtrooper detachment had moved inside, and shuffled past Rexus, their gazes resting upon their disfigured cousin in arms.

"Easy with 'em lads!" Rexus snapped, "These boys are a little raw." He reminded them. Wenck changed tactic upon reaching the ladder, and heaped the wounded warrior over his shoulder. "It's gonna be a bit bumpy lad." Rexus informed him, as he slowly now began to descend down the ladder, "You're gonna be alright now." He comforted the trooper, panting a little as he slowly clambered his way down. Rexus was gentle and methodical in his manouvere, ensuring the man who had laid his life in his hand was kept safe, throughout their descent.

"I'm not gonna live...." The trooper groaned, "I can't see man, I got no arm, no leg..." He whimpered, "Kill me man, just karkin' kill me!" He screamed. Wenck whimpered. Kaeshana again came to mind. When he'd been at his lowest. When he'd done something similar, sat limp in a trench, with his arm blown off. He felt weak. He felt all alone. And he felt he was going to die.

"You're gonna live through this trooper." Wenck grunted, as he landed them onto the marshy ground. He gently, yet firmly hoisted the soldier back into his arms, "You're gonna be ok." He reaffirmed, "We're gonna get you out of here, you'll get new legs, new arm. New everthing.." He grunted, now taking the man further into the camp, "You're gonna be a new man." Rexus continued, as they walked past the ruins of a walker. "Got a name?"

The trooper nodded, "TK-4577." The trooper replied, "Four hundred and fifty third armoured battalion." He muttered weakly. A soft smile pursing the lips of his grizzled features. He let his head fall limp for a moment, before again grunting in pain, and straining himself. Wenck slowed himself down a little, not wanting to discomfort his comrade.

"FN-5427. Or Rexus." Rexus introduced himself. It was in these situations, you did what you could to help those in need. "We're gonna patch you up trooper," He looked at TK, and winced again, watching the shrapnel in his eye socket. "We have the best doctors, we're gonna look after you, and you're gonna be just right." He comforted, "Just ease up, and sleep mate, we'll get you up and kicking." Rexus whispered, in a soothing voice, "Just have to hold on a little."

The man in his arms nodded, and laid back. His breathing was laboured, but he at least tried to shut up, straining himself, in the cold of the rain. Wenck rushed to the speeder, where by now, a sizeable collection of Galactic Empire troops, beleaguered, and wounded, had now begun to be treated by their First Order colleagues. Rexus approached one of the medics, "Oi!" He barked to one, lifting an arm, and waving him over, "Get this guy here some pain meds, or somethin'!" Rexus commanded, before entering the repulsorlift tank, and laying the wounded trooper on one of the seats. Rexus took one last look at the trooper, and offered something of a weak salute, as he moved to get another patient.

It was an uncomfortable scene, watching all this death and decay coleasce around him. Rexus may have been a veteran, sure. But he wasn't some kind of medic. He'd seen death before, sure. But these men, wandering around him. These soldiers, who limped around, sans limbs. That wasn't what he was used to. The infections and bacteria. It was all foreign to him. He didn't do clean up stuff like this. He was a warrior, first and foremost. In fact, if he were to hazard a guess, Rexus more often than not caused this. But that was neither here, nor there. The trooper began a jog back to the juggernaut. A steady column of troopers, assisting the wounded, made their way to where Rexus had come from. When it hit.

Mortars, dozens of them, detonated. The stromtrooper was knocked back by there shear force of the detonations. Survival instinct kicked in, and Rexus turned, raising his rifle, and scanning the treeline, nothing. However, his senses returned to the scene at hand. He could see the eerie glow of fire catching through the vague reflection on a walkers hull. He knew it was bad. A fresh boost of adrenaline shot through Rexus' veins, as he sprinted toward the epicentre of the explosion. What he saw, horrified him. The vehicle, which he had been in moments before, was a burning wreck. Bodies were scattered around, the medical staff who had so dutifully attempted to calm the wounded, and treat them, eviscerated.

The scene was apocalyptic. Flames made the whole area glow orange and red. Rexus unsealed his helm, and threw it away, discarding it as he rushed to the scene of the attack. Mortars still fell in the distance, but Rexus didn't care. They were his people. They needed him. "Medic!" Rexus barked, "Someone get me a karking medic!" He bellowed, as First Order and Galactic Empire stormtroopers swarmed the scene, hauling out whomever they could, and trying to stabilise those dead. From the ruins of the tank, a solitary figure rolled out, his body charred.

He was screaming, crying, and a familiar face. TK-4577 rolled out of the vehicle, smothered in ash and flame. Rexus dashed over to the man, and knelt beside him, he unhooked his canteen from his utility belt, and poured water on the wounds. Somehow, the trooper looked worse now, as tender skin began to peel, exposing tender flesh. TK-4577 writhed, and cried out in agony at the gesture, as water hit raw, peeling flesh. "TK," Rexus whispered, clasping his hand firmly, and squeezing it, "Ease up." Rexus whispered, "It's gonna be alright." He whispered. It wouldn't be. Rexus knew it wouldn't be. But the trooper didn't deserve this. No one did. "Just hold on mate." He squeezed the troopers hand. TK reciprocated, still screaming. "Stay strong." Rexus told him. Clenching his jaw. "I'm gonna get you, a painkiller, it'll all be over soon."

Rexus slid his lightsabre from his holster, and tensely clenched it, "It's gonna be a sharp pain," Rexus informed him, as he put the sabre on his chest. TK-4577 nodded, his jaw also clenched. His body quivered in the rain, and beneath Rexus' firm touch. "Just, hold on, and you'll be right." The sabre's yellow blade ignited, causing the trooper to jolt, and come up to Rexus, wrapping a charred arm around him, before he slowly relaxed, and lay on the muddy ground. His suffering having ended. And Rexus' just beginning. Beneath the sounds of the mortar fire, and havoc caused, no one heard or saw the blade being disengaged, or Rexus sliding it into his utility belt. It was a folly sitting here mourning the dead. They had been slaughtered. Nothing could undo what had happened. But plenty could be done to inflict suffering upon these murderers.. Wenck stood tall, and turned to a group of troopers, of both Galactic Empire and First Order stock, who were running in from the perimeter. "You, form up on me!" Rexus snapped, his face glowing in the light offered by the flames.

"This one goes out to our brothers and sisters." Wenck returned to his helmet, and slid it back on. His hands smeared it with the blood of TK-4577, giving his mucky helm, three dirty blood red stripes on its fore. The stormtrooper readied his rifle, and beat his chest. Pounding it proudly. "Give 'em hell!" He screamed, before barrelling into the thick swamp. It would not solely be the graves of stormtroopers made on this day.

 

[Alasdair Sitra]

​

Enemies: ​

The Galactic Alliance​

[Directly | [member="Stephanie Swail"] [member="Tanaski Yumi"] [member="Asaraa Vaashe"] | [member="Nuuc Lapt"] | Engaging]
Allies:
The First Order | The Galactic Empire
[member="The Major"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="Varas Kyrel"] | [member="Therran Graush"]

The entire world was going in slow motion. At least it was for Kayrce, her actions seemed sluggish and heavy compared to that of the Jedi who had all appeared from the trees like interrupted insects from the soil. She tried to shrug it off, to get her arms up to the reflexes she was used to, but still found it impossible compared to the extreme speeds at which the Jedi seemed to be moving and reacting around them.

“Frakk the Force.” She muttered to herself, as the swamp, having been a dark hole of risk and fear seemed to momentarily gain a new level of clarity and calmness, the mists seemingly lifted and for just a moment, a mere simple moment the war seemed all forgotten. It would not last however. Soon the mists had returned, if they had ever left and the darkening fear came back like a claustrophobic wave. She had read the reports, the rumour that the planet was full of whatever power Force users manipulated, they had called it a nexus, a gathering point of energy that worked the planet’s natural order. The blood that had been shed, the violence the Galactic Alliance brought upon the Imperial survivors and their First Order rescuers was palpable, unrestricted and malevolent at its very core. How the great had fallen, where there was only darkness they believed they saw light, where there was death, they thought they gave security. A dark twisted reality, just like the planet they kept assuring themselves was a beacon of light in their hold over the core.

The dull thud of an explosive moved across the special forces operative, yet it wasn’t one of flame and shrapnel. A great lathering wave of adhesive coated the area where the First Order commando had been moments before, it coated all of the surrounding area with a sticky glue like slime, the type of which would be unavoidable if taken by surprise. It also gave Kayrce, whose attacks had been removed by another Jedi springing out of the ground like the planet was responsible for the mass producing of force users itself, another opportunity to attack. The difference was, this time if the glue had them there would be no salvation.

Crack. Crack. Crack. Again her blaster opened with great red streaks, her form moving after her pinpoint accuracy shots. She had to close the gap, get to the First Order trooper and help as best as she could.

*Static* Imperial Forces report, this is *Static* All remaining Imperial forces *Static*

It was the clearest signal they had received during her time on the planet, enough to make her pause and fall to her knee, the sound of ship engines roaring above her in the mist. “This is Commander Kayrce of the Imperial Navy, lock to frequency four-twelve-six” She hoped it would be enough as she shouted down the makeshift communicator still clung to her neck. “Converge on my location, all Imperial forces are to converge on my location. Danger, enemies close.”

*Static*

She released some more shots off at the adhesive group, then sprinted towards them fully aware of just how sore her body now was.


*RHUN; INFERNO THREE*

He had managed to clear the dropship without a single Alliance soldier paying attention to him. They all seemed worried about the First Order soldier and apparently the millions of stormtroopers they kept shouting about despite the only Imperial forces nearby to their knowledge being Kayrce and himself. However this meant that as the dull thud of the adhesive grenade sounded he had already managed to track back to the complete other side of the scene.

He had slowed to watch the Alliance patrol slip from the shuttle and come up on the fight, stealthily pursuing to hear his witty retort towards the First Order trooper.
“That’s a neat trick. Got any more to show me, or should we just shoot you now and save ourselves the trouble.”

His armour, a perfectly crafted tool of stealth allowed him to get right up behind one of the Alliance boys, and with training that only an Imperial Commando could obtain moved to grab the soldier in a lock, if he got a hold, his hand would disconnect the closest explosive device and throw it into the grouping of Alliance troops hopefully throwing dismay onto the randomly appearing forces that continued to spawn out of the jungle with pinpoint, almost mystical precision.
“Yeah, he still has one trick left.”

 

[Nuuc Lapt]

Location: Dagobah swamps

Allies: Galactic Alliance, [member="Mishel Noren"] | [member="Asaraa Vaashe"] | [member="Stephanie Swail"]

Enemies: First Order, [member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="Kayrce"]

Objective: Don't die


As the swampland erupted in blaster fire from [member="Kayrce"], Nuuc's soldier's sprung into action. They returned fire at its source, fanning out to present far too many targets for a single trooper to take on. It didn't prevent the Imperial from taking out one or two, but as soon as they were aware the attack was on, they were swift in responding.

Meanwhile one of Nuuc's men had been taken seemingly hostage by another Imperial. Gino had arms around him, a hand seemingly searching for something on his body that he likely wouldn't find, as the grenades that his troopers carried could only be detonated by launch.

This was, however, something that he knew how to handle. Though Nuuc hadn't finished his Jedi training, he was skilled enough in the Force to quickly reach out to Gino and the man holding him hostage. His master had been far better with force stasis than he, and the Sullustan could only hold it for a few seconds at a time, but it would be long enough for a couple of his people to sprint over and wrest the attacker away from Gino. He closed his hand, feeling the force close around, still boosted strongly by something coming from elsewhere on the planet.

His other hand, still aware of the blaster fire going on at the site, quickly unhooked and ignited his lightsaber just in time to knock away a stray bolt with a crackling pop. He hoped that the distraction he and his men provided would give the Jedi whom he'd joined time to free themselves.

 

[Tanaski Yumi]

Tanasuki Yumi

---

Enemies: [member="Kyrel Ren"] [member="Varas Kyrel"] [member="Therran Graush"] [member="Emilia Ravel"]
Allies: [member="Ever Dawnracer"] [member="Marl"] [member="Tiland Kortun"] [member="Coren Starchaser"] Asaraa Vaashe
Objective: Current Fight Participants [member="Stephanie Swail"] [member="Kayrce"] @Rolf Amse
[member="Nuuc Lapt"] (perhaps hold off from making more posts until others have had their turn)
Post: 6

[SIZE=10.5pt]Tana gave a slight nod to Swail as she thanked him for the compliment, though keeping a concentrated eye on the Inferno trooper always, "No need to thank me, but yes, I know the battle has only just begun, but worry about yourself before me". The two's backs came to meet as they eyed down the position, Tana's words being something to take in as more troops started to surround them, thankfully though the due soon became a trio as [member="Asaraa Vaashe"] making a pretty defensive circle if he did say so himself. "Your idea of fun General, enjoyable it does not sound, battle upon us it is, time for serious action, take we must", in such a fight Tana would drop and petty attitude he may have, becoming rather serious in his tone of voice, all but slipping back to one with a Riben-Jin accent.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]In all honesty he was prepared to strike out at the troopers starting to surround them, but Swail had pre-emptily asked them to surrender something Tana doubted any of the current troopers would do, as before these Imperials and First Order peps where very loyal. Most would probably sooner die then contemplate surrender, at least that was how he view it given past experiences, and in a pitch battle with no side claiming a clear advantage such hopes the enemy would simple give up seemed to be very unlikely. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]As such when the enemy solider that had been shooting at them not a few moments ago came out, alone, hands raised he did not for one second believe it. The Shinobi-sigh Jedi dogging away from the armoured solider, expecting a suicide bomb of sorts Tana readying his blades upon dodging the goo detonation. Back flipping behind a tree, ready to begin a counter attack, but was interrupted by the sound of blaster fire, followed shortly by some Sullustan leaping into the fray with a squad of troopers, shouting about the adhesive, 'stating the obvious, much'?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]With reinforcements arrived Tana decided to reopen his attack back up on the Inferno Troopers, not willing to sit back like Swail and ask the enemy to surrender, though was not too keen on their new allies that had just jumped in, their Jedi leader seeming to be very gun-ho. Leaping out from behind cover the nimble Jedi started to leap from tree to tree, before making an overhead diving attack upon the red and black armoured trooper. Each sword held in reverse style with the single edge blade turned backwards to prevent any lethal damage if he strikes hit their mark, though it would still hurt.[/SIZE]

 

[Stephanie Swail]

LOCATION: Swamps outside Fort Nemo, Dagobah
OBJECTIVE: Repel the First Order – hold the line
ALLIES: The Galactic Alliance and allies in vicinity - : [member="Asaraa Vaashe"] | [member="Marl"] | [member="Tiland Kortun"] | [member="Tanaski Yumi"] | [member="Nuuc Lapt"] | [member="Mishel Noren"]
ENEMIES: The First Order and allies in vicinity - [member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="Kayrce"] | [member="The Major"] |

The trooper lunged, and Stephanie leapt forward to follow, over a log, spinning around with her blade pointing at the trooper, shield up. The First Order trooper wasn’t where she expected – he was crumpled atop a fallen comrade. Her pity went out to the fallen, but she held her face and nerve for her duty.

The blue blade hummed. The trooper surrendered. Or so he said.

With his hands raised, Stephanie held her line and waited for him to come closer. But as he did, he didn’t like it. What would she do with a surrendering trooper in a battlezone? That split-second thought and confidence she had brought the trooper in failed to clock his other split-second move to his belt, activating a device.

An explosive!

"GET DOWN!" Stephanie shouted as the trooper lunged.

This was what it came down to – a final cowardly attempt by the First Order to self-sacrifice to take down others. Where was the honour and the humanity in that. It was all over. All she could do was crouch down and pull her shield in tight to limit some of the blast and hope it was all over soon. She had failed her allies and her Master and her Or –

TH-BOOOOOOM

It was as if a burst of wind picked Stephanie up for a while and carried her along, before falling apart and dropping her violently over into a stretch of bog and twigs. She couldn’t breath – but she was alive. Wrestling to get up from the ground, she was panicking, chocking…and then her windpipe relaxed and she gasped and inhaled the rancid air. It didn’t matter what sort of air, it was just proof she was alive.

Around her, she could see the residue from the explosive and hear others who had been caught by the blast. Not an explosive blast, but – oh, damn! Adhesive foam!

It was splattered all across her shield, some her matted in her hair, but a stretch had snaked across the ground and up her ankle. With a grunt, she pulled her right leg up out of the bog, dripping with mud and gunk, and was fixed down on one knee.

"Everyone ok!?" She shouted, twisting to break free. "How the….how do you get out of this," she grunted.

A sitting duck. Stephanie ignited her lightsaber to begin burning it off her carefully.

"Keep going! Push them back!" Still shouting from her position, useless as it was currently trying to get out and get that trooper if he wasn’t submerged in his own foam in a grizzly end!

 

[LT-137]

Sluis Sector // Dagobah // Fetid Swamps - Reportedly near Fort Nemo.​

The Golden Company, Seventh Legion. Contractually bound to the First Order.​

Primary Objective: Search and Rescue. ​

Secondary Objective: Search and Destroy.​

Equipment: See Codex NPC Submission.​

Complement: Forty Sun Guards, and Two Phaethon-Class Assault Transports. (Total Number engaged in S&R Operations across Dagobah.)​

​

“I have a rendezvous with Death, at some disputed barricade. It may be he shall take my hand, and lead me into his dark land, and close my eyes and quench my breath—​

I have a rendezvous with Death, and I to my pledged word am true, I shall not fail that rendezvous.”​

​

~ Alan Seeger, 1888 - 1916, I Have a Rendezvous with Death. (Abridged.)​

​

Of all the things that Centurion Batiatus hated the most, being regulated to search and rescue operations had found themselves at the top of his list. While communications were spotty, due in part to the thunderous atmospherics playing merry havoc with their connection, the Sun Guard and the Gunship he was stationed on, had managed to locate several Imperial units out in the bog. The first was embattled and surrounded by stranded Alliance marines, who were made short work of when the Gunship’s weapons began chattering. Nearly two, understrength squads of Stormtroopers had given him their thanks, and took the time to deal with the corpses of their fallen foes personally. Something that the Morellian admired with a thin-lipped smile. He enjoyed the petty cruelty of defacing an enemy after a hard-fought battle, some even took trophies, not to keep mind you, as it was doubtful that their commanders would allow them such tribal mementos. Instead, it seemed that those select few had instead given their spoils over as payment, thanking their mercenary saviours with more than just words.

As his Gunship had made the return approach to the surface, after having transferred another litter of rescued Stormtroopers into the hands of the First Order, Batiatus found himself enthralled with his newfound collection. Dozens of sheathed vibroblades adorned the base of his retracted bunk, and the weapons rack nearby was filled with dozens of standard-issue Alliance blaster rifles and sidearms. His thin-lipped smile widened slightly, knowing that such a veritable hoard would be worth a few hundred credits a piece on the black market, as there were always fledgling rebellions and resistance movements looking to equip themselves with something more effective than sticks, and stones. It was then that the mercenary’s dark, malicious eyes drifted towards the cockpit, beckoned forth by his pilot’s summons. There was another beacon in the swamp, one that sang differently from all the rest, yet still retained the expected Imperial tune.

“It’s odd,” The Pilot mentioned, as his hands danced across the terminals of his command throne. “Could it be a trap baited by the Alliance? Did they catch onto what we’ve been doing?”

Placing his armoured hand on the Pilot’s shoulder, Batiatus gazed out through the narrow cockpit at the planet below, which in turn, began rapidly filling his field of vision as the gunship descended. “I doubt they’ve caught onto our operation,” He asserted, allowing his cockney accent to flavour his every word. “They’re probably too busy trying to kill the Imperials on the surface to notice. However, when we make our final approach, make sure the droid’s controlling the weapons. I’d hate for us to run into any surprises.” With those words stated, the pilot nodded his acknowledgment and began weaving his way through the turbulent atmosphere. Like the many times, they had repeated this voyage before, it wasn’t smooth, and several of the Sun Guards within the transport mag-sealed themselves to the deck - to ensure they weren’t thrown from their feet when they finally broke through the planet’s stratosphere. When the licking flames of re-entry were replaced by the sounds of shattering branches, the Gunship soared off towards the beacon and the unknown future that awaited them there.

No longer contained by the retracted blast doors, the Sun Guard Centurion leapt off the deployment deck of his transport and dived ankle deep into the mud. His weapon, engraved with various kill markings and strung by a woven braid of hair taken from the hide of a Wookiee, traced the shadows - searching for possible signs of an ambush. When none were found, the mercenary ordered the rest of his Cohort to depart and assist him in finding the source of the distress beacon. If there were no survivors, they would merely recover the transmitted tag and return once more to the stars, searching for another gathering that required their aid. However, as the five Sun Guards moved through the brackish waters, they began to find signs of a battle; multiple blaster scars dotted the nearby trees and trails of coagulated blood that snaked across one of the roots. Hell, even Batiatus found the half-eaten remains of a dead marine as he advanced towards the beacon, nearly having tripped over his partially bloated corpse.

“Well then,” The Morellian stated, as he pushed the weighted body away. “Seems our friends in the Empire have been busy.”

“You’re damn right,” A voice called out in the distance, drawing the gaze and gauss rifles of the Golden Company towards it. There was a moment of building tension, as a man clad in an armoured flight suit stepped out from behind a tree - with his rifle raised and trained on the Centurion. The man was unhelmed, revealing his youthful features and a playful grin. He was caked, from head to toe, in bits of mud - and flecked with various rivulets of hardened crimson and the odd stick. As the patch on his armour had indicated his supposed allegiance, the Sun Guard’s lowered their weapons - only enough to show that they were wary of the threat he could’ve posed - as he was still an unknown and could be an Alliance infiltrator in disguise. “Our commander’s left us in quite the pickle, after dropping us into and leaving us to die this hellhole.”

“Are you a Pilot?” The Centurion inquired but was immediately given a subtle, if not exhausted sideways shake of his head. Before he had opened his mouth to respond, the Imperial wiped away the mud that caked his breastplate and moved the strap that was slung over his shoulder. Such an act allowed the Centurion to see the strange markings of his unit and his designation within it. At least, that’s what the Morellian assumed, as he too once wore armour just like that and was sworn into the service of another stellar empire sometime before enlisting with the Golden Company. “No,” The Imperial stated, making sure to point towards the symbol and the aurebesh name embossed beneath. “I’m apart of Inferno Squad, Imperial Special Forces.” Batiatus scoffed uproariously as the man stated he was a commando. It was a small galaxy, after all, the man mused. Who would’ve thought a former team of Operators would find themselves in a swamp, rescuing a comrade in arms?

“We weren’t expecting to come to the aid of Special Forces.”

“Well, isn’t that kind of the point?” The Operator said with a charming smile.

“Aye, that’s true,” Batiatus replied, before casting his eyes towards their charred surroundings. “I take it you’re out here by yourself, or did you get separated from your unit in the battle?”

“The latter,” He stated, before grabbing his latched helmet off his belt and clearing the mud away from the lenses. “I hit my head not too long ago, but from what I can recall, there was a crash and a firefight that drove me away from the rest of my Squad.”

“Do you know where they are now? Or where that transport went down?”

The operator blinked. “Why do you want to know?”

“The First Order’s paying us for every Imperial head we save, or Ident-tag we collect from those who’ve perished,” The Centurion shrugged. “So, as you can imagine, we’ve been quite busy saving the rest of your comrades and would like to get back into the thick of it. Mind gathering the rest of your gear and joining us aboard the Phaethon?”

Having detected the urgency in the mercenary’s voice, the Imperial equipped his helmet and twisted it slightly to engage the environmental seal with a hiss of atmospheric pressure. “I’ve got everything I need on me,” He said, before wordlessly deactivating by way of plasmatic discharge. The sound erupted in the silence that had slowly crept across the swamp and meshed almost flawlessly with the racket of battle echoing in the distance.

“Let’s go.” ​

The sounds of static bore heavily on the broadcast, as the summons echoed throughout the deployment hold. The Imperial Operator, having introduced himself as Beric, perked up as soon as he caught wind of the transmission, knowing the voice and woman all too well. He clambered towards the cockpit, pushing away the hovering medical droid that protested his sudden and inadvisable movements. Slipping past Batiatus, and coming to rest beside the command throne, the Imperial Commando listened, more intently than ever before, to the words of the crackling transmission.

“That’s my unit,” Beric announced, allowing a portion of relief to slather his words. “They’re still in this fight!”

“They’ve broadcasted their location as well,” The Pilot mentioned, as he gently maneuvered the Gunship out of the path that would have lead towards their fiery demise. “Orbital telemetry, or at least what we could get through the interference, shows that they’re not far from here. Orders, Centurion?”

Batiatus stood in silence for a long moment, with an armoured thumb resting beneath the lip of his golden helm. ​

“From the sounds of it, they’re getting hit pretty hard. Set the guns to automatic and make sure they target anything without an Imperial IFF.” The Morellian ordered, before turning towards his Cohort - already making themselves ready for combat in the aft compartment. The golden armour glittered under the crimson light, which in turn brought back his thin-lipped smile. “You boys know what to do. Don’t trust your sensors, and watch out for Jedi. Scattered reports from the Order’s Security Bureau indicates our paymasters have run into a few dozen in this sector. There’s even a reported light show going off near some explosions, so watch your aim and pick your targets accordingly.” It was a speech that, while altered to suit their newfound surroundings, the Centurion had given time and time again. They weren’t petty dregs clad in rags and armed with sticks, who needed to feel like they were something and that their lives weren’t meaningless. These men were the best of the best, once upon a time, who shaped the predestined course of entire planets with their various deeds.

Now that they were recast in gold, well… They didn’t have to worry about their actions shaping just one planet at a time.

With the Centurion having drifted towards the aft deployment bay, the pilot refocused on the task at hand, now that he was alone with his thoughts and the ascribed personality that the Gunship itself had developed in the hours after the Order’s victory in L-49. His fingers fanned across the controlling yokes, as he shifted them left and right, forcing the bulbous craft to alter its trajectory and narrowly avoid a dense thicket of crooked trees. While their branches would’ve atomized themselves against the Gunship’s particle shields, it would’ve caused the vessel to lose a majority of its momentum. The pilot couldn’t have that. Not with lives, and a hefty bounty of credits on the line. Once the danger was averted, he shifted his fingers and righted the directional nacelles, forcing the gunship to roll back to an upright position.

It wasn’t long after his quick thinking that they began their final approach to the target location. The pilot swapped his comms frequency over to the encrypted channel that was broadcasted and relayed their estimated time of arrival - hoping that they would be able to take cover behind whatever they could when the Gunship had entered the fray. It was doubtlessly going to cause quite the ruckus; it wouldn’t do for their vessel to accidentally stitch their allies with rapidly discharged plasmatic bolts.

As the Gunship thundered into the clearing when it had finally arrived, it was preceded by the throat whine of its anti-gravity plates, and the deafening roar of its ionic nacelles. Within seconds, the integrated droid brain had run through several sensorial filters, many of which were useless thanks to atmospheric interference and the teeming life signs that rippled beneath the surface of the swamp. Once the process was complete, an act that transpired within the time it took for a sentient being to blink and turn their gaze towards the heavens, the Phaethon had locked onto several nearby targets - and stitched the quagmire beneath their vessel with stuttering bolts of coalesced emerald lightning. A migraine inducing display of rapidly firing plasma was enhanced further by the sudden eruption of homing cluster missiles - sent to the highest concentration of enemy contacts.

With the withering hail of blaster-fire igniting the very air and leaving nothing but the whispers of seared ozone in its wake, the Gunship began it’s measured descent into the swamp below. It sought to reclaim the distressed Imperial forces from their heavily one-sided battle, and slaughter the false inheritors - who brazenly bore the title of Jedi.

Allies: The First Order, The Golden Company, [member="Rolf Amsel"], [member="Kayrce"], [member="The Major"] (Nearby).​

Enemies: The Galactic Alliance, The New Jedi Order, Etc, (Directly Engaging) [member="Stephanie Swail"], [member="Tanaski Yumi"], [member="Asaraa Vaashe"], [member="Nuuc Lapt"].​

Forces Used: Five Sun Guards (Cohort, led by Centurion Batiatus), Beric - Imperial Commando, One Phaethon Gunship.​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Allies: First Order
Enemies: Galactic Alliance
Brunchmate: [member="Jaius Sovv"]
Objective: Teach Sovv some ethics

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4pkGoo5q6RY

"We have a special axe," Natasi said nonchalantly to his comment about pomp and circumstance in the manner of his assassination. "It's quite large -- gold inlaid -- rather difficult to use without some manner of ceremony."

She was glancing over a copy of the Dosuun Review as she answered. "Nothing but blue skies as far as the eye can see, according to the Ministry of Culture & Heritage," Natasi said, holding up the newspaper for Sovv to see. Though the war was going well -- as well as a war could be going -- and so Natasi didn't understand the compulsion to overstate things. Limited losses, huge victories, Alliance soldiers dead by the hundred score. It was enough to turn the stomach, but Natasi didn't know what was worse, that people needed to see this sort of thing or that they believed it. The ability for those under the rule of authoritarians to reconcile two completely opposite ideas in their heads had long fascinated Natasi; for instance, one could believe on the one hand that the First Order navy had experienced insignificant damage during their battles, but also that taxes must be raised to pay for a refurbishment of the fleet.

Their conversation turned to chess, and his blatant and brazen attempt to cheat before the observation lounge was ripped into space.

"That is, perhaps, the fundamental difference between our two cultures -- First Order and Alliance I mean, not Galidraani and Sullustan." She set the paper aside and took another sip of her tea. "Anything underhand is anathema to the First Order. Trickery, treachery, these sort of things are not within our nature. I believe we would rather lose a battle behaving honorably than to win through underhandedness. I have noticed -- forgive me, Jaius, for I do not mean to insult you -- that the Galactic Alliance has no such moral qualms. They will stop at nothing to thwart their enemies, resort to the most underhanded and dastardly behavior -- need I remind you of Kaeshana and the Kuragin -- to win and to survive? Yet and still, it doesn't seem to be working. No victory since Skor II -- which, fittingly, is the one clear example of a breakdown in the First Order's moral code."

"There is a saying where I'm from about the high road and the low road, though I don't recall it now, but the general idea was that there was more chance of getting where one needed to be by taking the high road." She paused, picked up her knife and fork, though they hesitated over her dish as she studied him across the table. "Or do you suppose that's just luck? I am a practitioner of the Cosmic Balance faith, so I like to believe that where we accept the disadvantage of acting in a forthright manner, the reward may be victory. But I know not everyone shares this view."

She took a bite of bacon, swallowed. "If our pieces had not been sucked out into the vacuum, I calculate a 78.091 percent chance of winning the game even after you cheated. So, really, what did playing a dishonest game get you? A momentary morale boost, which would have made your nearly-inevitable loss all the more painful for the false hope that it raised." The Grand Moff squared her shoulders and looked over the table at Sovv. There was much that she wished to say in that moment, for she had an inkling that they were speaking of different topics -- she, the war, he, his captivity -- but in the end there was no difference. She cared for him on a personal level, viewed him as a friend, and felt responsibility for his wellbeing. But she could not help him escape if the law -- the Supreme Leader's will -- was that he remain in custody.

Natasi could only link her well being to the Sullustan's, hoping that by connecting their fates she could spare him the worst. In Natasi's mind, it was the only way to maintain her honor in an impossible situation.

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Location: Swamp, dropship crash site, near the cave of evil​

Objective: Reach the Cave of Evil​

Secondary Objective: Destroy the Jedi, Capture or eliminate [member="Mishel Noren"] ​

Allies: [member="Varas Kyrel"] [member="Therran Graush"] [member="The Major"] [member="Rolf Amsel"] [member="Kayrce"] [member="Emilia Ravel"] (RIP) [member="Samka Derith"] [member="Elensa Jari"]​

Enemies: [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Tiland Kortun"] [member="Ever Dawnracer"] [member="Tanaski Yumi"] [member="Qymaen sil Jurai"] [member="Asaraa Vaashe"] [member="Stephanie Swail"] [member="Yuroic Xeraic"]​

Equipment: Vader's Bane Lightsaber, Armor of the Enforcer, Zark's Second Lightsaber, Gloria Blaster Pistol​

​

​

Kyrel could feel the light slowly takeover but the darkness within himself would not allow the light to destroy him. Concentrating on his aggression, his pain his hatred for his enemies at this very moment it was the inferno that was raging inside him. He couldn't help but have his anger grow upon seeing Varas on the ground his lightsaber next to her. He could feel it through their bond, she was drawing upon the cave of evil. A wellspring of darkness that if used could make any being strong with the dark side a great threat. But this would not be enough for her alone. Through their bond, he reached out to her trying to comfort her with his own darkness. "Be strong child do not give in let our bond fuel you. Accept my darkness, my hate, my anger. Let it be your strength." ​

​

He had said transferring waves of darkness through to her, allowing his emotions to be felt through the Force. Giving her strength to combat that of the light. He then witnessed Graush, launching a telekinetic bombardment at those that had dared to wield the glowing light. He decided to follow suit using the power he had in store for Mishel to pull onto large branches, and rocks big or small and honed into those he needed to target with his senses. An old man... All he could think of himself in a displeased tone. 'You old fool... I see you.' He said working with Graush in synchronization launching his own telekinetic bombardment at where he could feel the presence. Attempting to bombard the old man with branches and rocks at high speeds making it a deadly combination to be seen for sure.​

​

He raised his saber once more sensing Mishel come back and heading in his direction. He couldn't help but grin thinking merrily to himself. 'That's it come closer child.' He said awaiting her arrival ready to do combat against the traitor, when a blast of Force energy had sent him flying, knocking him back, getting up the Jedi Knight who had dared to mock him earlier came in swiftly. Kyrel reactivated his blade as the man went for his legs. The blade did hit his legs, sending sparks as the blade was cutting through a layer of his lightsaber resistant armor. This only caused Kyrel to scowl in rage as he read the Jedi's movements letting him strike his back, burning his cloak touching the heavy armor sending sparks flying once more. He growled in anger as the man attempted a Force push to which Kyrel responded by letting his fury guide him, it was his turn in striking attempting to kick him in the stomach and finishing with a Force push in an attempt to gain some distance, the hulking Enforcer stood with his saber raised.​

​

Shrouds of his cloak fell as the air smelled thick of swamp gas and ionized air from the lightsabers. Kyrel spoke briefly in his metallic baritone enraged. "You were lucky Jedi... But you will find I am not an enemy so easily defeated.. For even getting so close to me I will make you pay." He said ready to engage the Jedi once more, thinking to himself. 'As much as I despise it. You will have to wait to die Abomination.' ​

 

[Asharad Graush]

​

DAGOBAH SWAMPS​

ALLIES HIMSELF​

ENEMIES [member="Taheera Sollo"]​

OBJECTIVE CRUSH THE JIDAI​

​

Graush watched as the hydrastaff penetrated her armourweave, digging into her flesh before coming to a stop. It wouldn't go further, but that wasn't a concern of his. The venom of the amphistaff hybrid already dripped from its fangs, running through her system already, he imagined. So when he noticed that build up in the Force within the Jedi, Graush disregarded it. Already, she was dying. Minutes, hours, perhaps even a day if she was lucky. But merely from the volume of the venom within her, she would likely die if she didn't get medical attention.

There was, a surprise however when that Force energy erupted in front of him and through the clearing.

Once, Force Light had been used upon him, on Ossus, but there had been rocks, mountainous territory to protect him from the dangerous power of the Light Side.

But here, this was a clearing.

Even if he had respected her enough to step back, would the Force had been fast enough to carry him to safety?

Well, it was a question he would never get the answer to.

Even encased in his colossal armour, the force light engulfed him, his caped form disappearing as he roared.

First, the Light took his connection to the Dark Side, and he had felt... Naked. The Force Scream that would've shook duracrete faded into nothingness as screamed into nothingness.

Second, was his connection to the Force itself. Mere moments after he stopped hearing the swamps call to him, his eyes widened when the thing he had known his entire life was stripped from him.

My time is up.

 

[WelshGuy]

Location: Da Swamp bit
Allies: [member="Stephanie Swail"] | [member="Asaraa Vaashe"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Ever Dawnracer"] | [member="Marl"] | [member="Tanaski Yumi"]
Enemies: [member="Kyrel Ren"] (directly engaging) | [member="Varas Kyrel"] | [member="Ara Zambrano"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="Kayrce"]

Yuroic noted the Lightsaber resistant armour, a nuisance to say the least but there were ways to get around that. Just meant that Yuroic had to think more creatively. His own armour was resistant to Lightsaber damage, the kick coming to the stomach was not pleasant to say the least. Grunting hard, he dug him deep but the swampy conditions meant that he slid back, increasing the gap between them. It wasn't idea but Yuroic's combat style was fluid to say the least. His gaze fixed upon the Ren to see what they would do next, sure they were going to follow with additional attacks. He was surprised by their level of restraint, assuming that the Force Light had them focused on being more defensive than offensive to conserve energy into repelling its adverse effect on them.

"You know, luck had little to do with it. So focused on revenge you missed the fact I was an enemy. Perhaps something to take away from this failed invasion. Your emotions failed you, they blinded you to events unfolding around you. It is why I was able to damage your armour, it will be why I will damage your body." Yuroic spoke in a calm tone, holding nothing back as he spoke. "Though I do see that you are not solely filled with Darkness, you love your daughter, your emotions give away that much. Protective of her which is good, these are dangerous times we live in, perhaps one day you will see that the Dark Side isn't the only path to walk." Preparing himself to attack as he spoke, Yuroic pondered what style to start with.

The heavy armour suggested something fast and acrobatic, like Ataru but there was risks with that. It could be perceived as the obvious way to attack and held danger of being countered easily if the Ren could move faster than Yuroic believed he could for now. However, going in with strong, aggressive attacks seemed more reckless as the man looked bulkier than Yuroic and could likely land heavier attacks leaving Yuroic open. It was a constant battle in Yuroic's mind during a duel, attempting to anticipate his enemy while also attempting to weight the risks. No, just go for Ataru like attacks and adjust from there when necessary. Yuroic thought to himself.

Leaping high and over the Ren, Yuroic spun his interlocked sabers and slashed at the joints of the armour, his memory served him well in knowing that most armour, the joints were the least armoured. His attacks focused on the elbows and knees, with him jumping forward diagonally and attacking at the neck. He used the Force to speed his movements, nothing as fast as Mishel but faster than a normal person in his armour.

 

[Veino Garn]

[member="Samka Derith"]​

Amulet Occluder Armor​

------------------------------​

​

The Force surged in warning, just for a moment. It was enough to distract him enough away from the bubble so that it could shatter under the Ren's assault. He half-twisted to find out what it was, finger activating his lightsaber blade and the other hand unholstering the hand-cannon at his side.

Unfortunately for the poor snake, his armor was duraplast. If it could stop Verpine shatter rounds, it would absolutely stop a snake's jaws, and leave it with a bruised mouth for quite some while.

Another lightsaber ignited above him. He looked up as his opponent jumped towards him, blade aiming for his head. She landed atop him and he tumbled to the ground, but twisted his lightsaber to intersect with hers near the hilt. He wasn't concerned if it hit the armor. If anything, it would be to his advantage for that happen.

The blades clashed and sparked. While he kept her blade locked away, he pivoted his other hand. The muzzle of the handcannon pointed upwards and he squeezed the trigger.

The blaster opened fire at point blank range, sending sixteen bolts of plasma straight at his opponent. There was no recoil. Plasma had no mass, but he heard it go off.

As it went off, he lunged his helmeted head forward, aiming to catch his opponent with a headbutt in the face.

 

[Sol Stazi]

Allies: Galactic Alliance/Allied Forces, [member="Lyra Sunfell"] | [member="Kip Hollaran"] | [member="Nuuc Lapt"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Mathieu Bahreiko"] | [member="Taeli Raaf"]​

Enemies: First Order, [member="Rexus Wenck"] | [member="Luther Ando"] | @FN-6767 | [member="FN-2826"] | [member="Dr. Aes'ona Terrani"]​

Objective: Scout Reported Imperial Armor, Verify Artillery Effect on Target​

Equipment: Light Armor, A320-CFE Blaster, Alliance Adjudicator, BD-1 Cutter Vibroaxe, Combat Vibroknife, Thermal Detonators (Bandolier of Six)​

​

​

First Platoon // Dagobah Swamps
One Klick Out From FOB Romodi

"Quiet!" Sol hissed over comms, helmet tilting at the sound of a snapping branch and rustling leaves ahead of their position.

Each Alliance trooper crouched motionless in silence, until their point man was reasonably sure it had just been some errant wildlife fleeing the battlefield. Then they continued on through the swamps.

"All I'm saying is, we're lost!" Trooper Shakes picked up where the conversation had left off. Their helmets were soundproofed so their speech could not alert them, but still they spoke in hushed voices through sheer force of habit.

"We're not lost, Shakes," the duros lieutenant growled, "We have sensors, I can tell you our exact coordinates. We just haven't figured out how to get from here to there."

"So, lost then," the trooper muttered under his breath.

"We're in a gorram swamp, Shakes," Sol reminded the private, an edge to his voice belying his own concern at their current predicament, "What were you expecting, a paved duracrete road leading us straight to the Imperials?"

"Lieutenant!" another soldier called out, pinging his location on their HUDs, "I think I've found a way through here! Looks like there's a trail of some kind up ahead."

"Not a fething word, Shakes," he muttered, ignoring the private's stifled tittering over their internal frequency.

"Nice work, Sergeant," the duros congratulated his point man once they had caught up to the trooper's position at the start of this so called trail.

"Ground around here's been disturbed by something big," Sergeant Kol reported, taking the praise in stride, "Had to have been recent, weather like this. My bet? That armor the Captain commed about."

It was a logical conclusion. Their commanding officer, [member="Lyra Sunfell"], had warned about possible armor activity in this sector when they began their force recon mission. After failing to recover any survivors from the downed friendly gunship they had been sent to reconnoiter, Sol's platoon had linked up with Twilight's third and together they had opted to push deeper into the heart of contested territory instead of returning to Camp.

Several patrols had gone missing in this region in the past twelve hours, which meant there was a strong possibility some form of organized resistance was operating in the area. The lieutenant had a feeling that, if they followed this trail to its destination, they would find what they were looking for. The distinctive shriek of an inbound artillery strike broke his concentration, but he only started for a moment before he realized it was their own firepower. As far as he knew, their suit's trackers were still working, so the chances of Alliance arty accidentally hitting danger close to their position was remote.

"Those are our Jardains," Kol muttered, and when he stopped to listen Sol believed his Sergeant to be right.

"Let's check it out," he decided, motioning both platoons forward in a flanking advance along the trail's edge.

They had hardly gone a few hundred meters when Shakes again broke com silence, "Do we think-"

The trooper never got a chance to finish his sentence, a laser blast perforated his throat and he crumpled to the ground like dead weight. The swamp around them lit up with blaster fire.

"Contact!" Lieutenant Stazi bellowed, grappling a nearby soldier and hurling them both to the ground moments before heavy repeater fire raked over their heads.

Not even bothering to rise to his feet, Sol took aim in a prone position with his rifle, shouting commands at those under his command to assist him in establishing a base of fire. It would seem that Twilight was caught in the same trap that had befallen their missing patrols.

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Objectives: Rally
Allies: [member="Ever Dawnracer"], [member="Jak Sandrow"], [member="Tiland Kortun"], [member="Jyoti Nooran"] [member="Mishel Noren"]
Enemies: [member="Therran Graush"]

The Force was giving them an answer. Dagobah belonged to no one. Dagobah belonged to everyone. The planet did not care for the plight of the beings, it was larger, and more eternal than anyone fighting on its surface. The cave was there, a stark reminder of a dark path. But the planet was not affected by it, the cave did not define a planet anymore than a mole defined a person. The world was made for everyone but only those who could understand and respect the balance were going to be able to hold it. The ones who knew the Force was for all living things and not just for some false definition of strength and power.

That was what Coren was here to defend. The Force, the living, the conflict.

The Force Light rolled off him in burning waves, and serving to rally and focus the light side. The Jedi, the Jensaarai, the other Fringe users of the Force. All while pushing back the darkness. He couldn’t destroy the well in the cave, he knew that for sure, but he could push the dark side back.

The others were launching Force Light, and the energy coming out was intoxicating, but it wasn’t sustainable. Coren knew he was going to be needing the charge, or needing to drop the blasts. But that was changing, with the fight that was being brought to him.

The Sith was changing his tactics, something had come undone with the Sith. He felt the rocks pinging off of him and looked. Eyes aglow with the light of the Force, the waves were still rolling from him but changing. Starchaser had brought the waves of the light side and moved them, manipulated the Force, slowly, feeling his own reserves draining, into a wall.

The debris coming at him was getting through but he was able to push some away, it was moving his tactic from offense to defense. He took a step forward pushing his barrier out. Reaching into the Force, he was touching those around him. The Sith would fall this day, because the Jedi had companions, the Jedi had connections.

The Jedi had friends.

And he needed them.

 

[Ever Dawnracer]

Allies: [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Jak Sandrow"]
Enemies: [member="Therran Graush"]
Gear: Dawnracer's Gaiter, JSA-VAR, Ranger Armor, Ranger Blaster Stave, Ranger Scutum

​

As she moved towards her target, she was once again forced to realize that she was facing off with a Force User. As per usual, they couldn't fight a target, so they resorted to picking things up with their mystical powers and throwing it at them. She should have expected it by now since this was the third or fourth time this particular one had done it. If she hadn't known any better, she'd almost think that he was scared to let anyone get close enough to him to actually fight him. It wouldn't have surprised her all that much if that was the case. Granted he should be scared considering Ever had every intention of killing him and not taking prisoners. Prisoners didn't solve wars, they just put a strain on the financial system of the government.​

​

Plus this was war. Killing came with the territory.​

​

Again debris hit her. At first she was belted with bits of stone and bark and other small things. Her shield absorbed some of that, her armor taking damage from the rest. It was the flying logs that caused the ultimate problem as one of them slammed into her shield and sent her flying backwards to smack with a thud against the ground. She groaned as she lay there, her shield having accidentally deactivated when she was hit. When all was said and done she was going to have at least a few bruised ribs, and need an adjustment on her back. This was getting to be quite perilous. At least she'd had the good sense to take a stim before running out. While it sure hurt like heck to move now, she could still do so. Not much at the moment, though.​

​

She didn't feel like getting up but she knew she needed to do something to help Coren out, so she leveled the blaster end of her stave at Therran and fired off several shots once she was certain she was aiming properly. IE, once she wasn't seeing two of him, which was an interesting feat with Thermal Imaging on.​

​

"Just die, stupid imperial swine! Save us all the trouble!"​

 

[Luther Lewis]

​

Allies: [member="Kyli DT-6767"], [member="Rexus Wenck"].
Enemies: [member="Lyra Sunfell"], [member="Sol Stazi"].
Location: Galactic Empire FOB - Interior.
Luther's Equipment:

Spoiler

• DE-39 "Deep Fryer" Model Maser Rifle.
• Medical Backpack.
• FO-02 Stormtrooper Armour. Tank-Trooper Variant embellished with medical symbol.

Vehicle Status:

Spoiler

Vehicle: LAVr FI-H8b 'Hussar' Command Speeder. Stripped sensor/targeting and command suites, retrofitting said areas for medical support.
Crew: Four members of the 11th Armoured Division.
Action: Enroute to Luther's positon.
Hull: 32%.
Mobility: 0% - Immobile.
Crew Health: Badly Injured.

​

Luther might have cried out, might have wept, if he could still feel anything at this time. He’d foolishly believed that he’d get some respite once they reached the base, but he was deadly wrong. Instead, he realized he must be traveling through each circle of hell, because the terrors of this swamp never ceased.

He watched in mute horror as the raining mortars set the medical area ablaze. He was standing at a distance, but in what seems like seconds he was approaching the burning walker. The smell of burning flesh made him retch and he unconsciously sealed his helmet. He felt far away, detached from the whole situation. He was dimly aware that he was hauling troopers out of the burning wreckage, that there was screaming. He couldn’t distinguish the screaming of the others from his own.

Now he was sitting, dead tired and unthinking. The confident man that organized the troops not that long ago was gone. He was a husk. ‘Shock’. The word whispered in the back of his skull. It seemed to carry weight, but Luther couldn’t understand. ‘Luther’, ‘fire’, ‘hostiles’… all these words were sparking across his brain, trying to get him moving. They slowly shook his mind, tearing it free from its stupor.

The world started shaking now, not just his mind. With a sudden clarity, much like jumping into a pool of cool water, he snapped back into reality. Tia was shaking him. She was also shouting in his face, he could see her lips moving but his ears hadn’t caught up yet. He turned his head slowly, taking in his surroundings.

The nearby troopers had done well at quickly dousing the flames, the thick moisture in the air helping greatly. But the fire had done its bloody (yet still bloodless) work, cleansing the walker interior of any remaining life. Those who had survived lay on the muddy ground or on tarps placed by a quick-thinking medic. Half a dozen of the latter ran between the wounded, studiously ignoring their own ailments before treating the wounded.

“-ave it handled. Luther! For kark’s sake, please listen” Tia’s desperate tone was like another dip in the ice-cool water for Luther. Tia’s face was creased with concern and other emotion he’d never seen on the young engineer’s face. Fear. “Luther” she shouted, seeing that he was now lucid. “The perimeter guard sent a messenger, the patrols have engaged the Alliance” He felt his stomach drop, feeling like he’d descended into yet another circle of hell. “I can contact the fleet, but someone has to keep us alive until they arrive!”. Luther nodded and stood up. He clasped her hand, shocked at the black soot on his gauntlets. She grabbed the hand firmly and they nodded to each other before heading in separate directions.

The cool detachment returned, to his blessed relief. He organized a group of troopers, grabbing anyone who could stand and hold a blaster. Once organized, he shouted orders and got them moving to the perimeter. ‘I can only hope we get there before they break through’ he thought.

 

[The Major]

Hex M, 50 GSM \\ Dagobah
Upon Dagobah ground | Present Time | Out Flanking the Enemy
First Order Security Bureau Operations Task Force (What is left of them)
Allies: [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="Varas Kyrel"] | [member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="Kayrce"] | [member="Khonsu Amon"] and The First Order
Directly Engaging: [member="Stephanie Swail"] | [member="Tanaski Yumi"] | [member="Nuuc Lapt"]
Enemies: [member="Kip Hollaran"] | [member="Lokthra Dawning"] | [member="Tiland Kortun"] | [member="Cathul Thuku"] and the Galactic Alliance

Explosions registered near Objective Blue -the Force Caves- just ahead of the main line by surviving members of the FOSB task force who were fortunate enough to be deployed from the doomed Beat Siren. There was little time to mourn any loss when each fraughtful shadow could potentially be another enemy training their sights upon you in this fetid field. Some few hundred meters away from the main thrust of the battle with the Ren the patrol vessel was now spreading flame and secondary explosions throughout the Galactic Alliance’s main avenue for bringing in more troops from their FOB. Since everyone left on the ship was now dead and currently having their corpses reduced to singing ash there was nobody to fight the spreading fire slicked in space fuels and spare gas. Even in this downpour it would take hours for the blaze to die on its own. Either further reinforcements would have to go around the danger zone, or they would have to divert some attention to taming a flame that, left unchecked, could threaten the entire frontline near the now demolished caves. Instead, magic seemed to hold the answer for salvation. Scattered elements were reporting a sighting of “unnatural, warm light” coming from the projected axis of advance. However, without the command and control center provided by the Beat Siren, these all had to filter through the usual, unreliable communication methods that were frankly torn asunder by the treachery of Dagobah. Which friendly units would hear the warnings or check the now truncated battlenet? Who could respond to help? Was there hope?

...No…​

Dead to any more emotion due to the overwhelming strain of the mission and its now lost cause, the Major dumbly advanced along with her pair of hunters. Now a living failure, hopeless, the only guidance was offered by the fecal stinking planet itself: persist, hunt. Add to the body count. Kill. She couldn’t save anyone from anything, and being so accursed, it made sense to just give in to the swirl of chaos. Somewhere off to a side there was brightness flowing between so many trees. This must have been redemption, or peace. It was the glory of the end, cloaked in a warm embrace. The light beconked so sweetly for all to come and rest on into infinity.

She hated it. ​

Choosing to cling to the shadow, muddled blood, and corpses. Feeling so tiny, so insignificant, she channeled her utmost woe into calling forth the powers of her tribe; Sybil immersed herself into the current of the Force, taking her companions with her into the realms of irrelevance. It was one of the most basic of Fallanassi techniques, and while did this not mask the group from visual detection it eliminated the hunters’ Force presences. Beyond mere adept, the Fallanassi in chrome armor was now undetcable in the nightmare of this bog from the insidious nature of precognition. It was better than a negative space. It was nothingness: air between trees. The Monster of Trash most formerly perceived as the Major placed herself into the combat by most efficient and effective methods: by being pragmatic and choosing an opportune moment. Registering Colonel Amsel’s IFF tag, the Huntress took the extra minute to go around his far left. His vitals were charting into negative territory. She couldn’t care less. In her mind, they were all dead anyway. Now wrapped around in a superior flanking position the hunters ducked behind the best trees or sturdiest natural cover.

A fight began in the clearing, and what appeared to be a jedi commander was confirmed to be struggling to escape. Another warrior was bearing down upon a friendly imperial trooper -perhaps the last survivor of her own terrible battle.

To Nether with the lot of them. All was lost.​

Unfeeling, the Major thought as she aimed her powerful G-11F blaster rifle on the Jedi, why does everyone talk so much? She set the blaster to maximum power setting.

The hunter on her left tossed a thermal imploder into the largest concentration of alliance troops and in tandem the three opened fire, pouring it on to the enemy’s exposed right flank. One hunter in black fired suppressing sustenance with his heavy repeating blaster at optimal range, spreading a cone across any caught in ambush. The other hunter with his left arm in a improvised sling fired his blaster pistol down range, harassing the elements closest to Rolf and Kayrce. The final huntress in chrome fired one pair toward the Jedi in hopes of getting them all to shut up while they were trapped, and expecting the rounds to be somehow negated by the typical tricks, the Major opted for the quantitative approach, pumping blast after semi automatic blast to any other personnel exposed to rack up as many neutralizations as could be managed when engaging in an ambush.

One. Two. Three. Four. It was relentless.​

TIE Raptors flew to intercept an attack by [member="Roth Tillian"], though that factor of who was piloting what was of course unknown to the imperial aces. Still, they were vastly outnumbered, and as they began their dogfights with the Alliance there was no hope in their hearts either. They just held on as long as they could. One was clipped and lost control response, doomed to watch helplessly as his craft could be accosted without any objected. Another burst into flame. This woman, knowing it was her end, removed her breath mask and breathed deeply into the fire, smothering her lungs and instantly knocking her out before the flames committed to their grisly task. In for a credit; in for a thousand. Soon the rest would suffer similar fates in their tenuous last stand… It wasn’t enough. The FIV Tirade was compromised by both the closing starfighters and the merciless volley from space. Before their demise, the commander ordered all systems shut down just as the shields popped. While this of course would result in a portion of his crew dying as turboblasts ate away the ship, it at least slowed them down and stopped any sudden chain reaction as the engines were obliterated by more fire. Falling, the frigate slid into the swamp on the First Order’s side of the line, but far closer to the friendly FOB. No doubt any underneath or along its crash landing were met with untimely journeys to the other-realms. The Hemwick held on just barely, swinging onward as a final complement of imperial survivors were whisked aboard. Without other active targets in the sky, however, the commander of this vessel knew it was a matter of time before they all perished. But not yet.

Meanwhile, the FIV Tortuga was no purveyor of cheap parlor tricks. It was a state of the art stealth corvette, and one of the fastest ships within the arsenal of the Force Order. Deploying bombers and having them close the gap took time. While the officer aboard was a bit surprised at how fast the enemy had detected and responded to their presence, it was of no true consequence. They used their speed to play keep-away for as long as possible from the bombers, drawing them away from the main fight. Once the enemy closed to range, he gave a brisk order, and they jumped to hyperspace. Fleeing the battle may be cowardly, but those aboard the corvette were FOSB. They couldn’t care less about apparences.

Spoiler: Fleet Status

FOSB Operations Task Force:
FIV Tortuga
Nightgaunt Class Stealth Corvette
Shields: 100/100
Hull: 100/100
Status: Hyperspace Jump out of Dagobah

FIV Tirade
Boneshatter Class Assault Frigate
Shields: 0/100
Hull: 12/100
Status: Disabled, on ground; 60% casualty rate reported

FIV Hemwick
Boneshatter Class Assault Frigate
Shields: 22/100
Hull: 39/100
Status: Last Stand

FIV Carousel
Boneshatter Class Assault Frigate
Shields: 0/100
Hull: 0/100
Status: Destroyed, all hands lost

FIPV Beat Siren
Kerunos System Patrol Vessel
Shields: 0/100
Hull: 0/100
Status: Destroyed, 93% of crew lost

FIPV Blackhole 3-3
Kerunos System Patrol Vessel
Shields: 0/100
Hull: 0/100
Status: Destroyed, all hands lost

 

[Taheera Sollo]

Objective: Defend, protect - follow the light and the will of the force
Allies: Alliance
Enemies: [member="Asharad Graush"]

Slick mud and moisture mixed with armorweave, green-flesh, clothing, chestnut-strands of hair, blood, and poison. She didn't even remember hitting the ground. Didn't remember being unable to move. Didn't remember the pain. The mirialan healer was lost in the sea of light; the will of the Force. The others. Give them light. Hope. The Alliance. Form was un-moving at the feet of the armored First Order man. Even when the light faded, her skin seemed to maintain an ethereal glow. Fading slowly.

Just like her heart-rate.

Just like her breathing.

She didn't have long. Partially lidded gaze of verdant pools of green found something beautiful in the muck and grime of the swamps. There was a starlight flower blooming beyond her view of the armored shin of this man. There were creatures stirring in the shadows. A shaft of sunlight pierced the swirling mists and ever-present fog. Death. Life. Balance.

All that remained was the will of the force and she would follow it. Always. And perhaps this Sith Lord would see there was more. So much more. The veil from his eyes was lifted and it would be interesting to see what he would do with it, if anything at all.