Casus Belli (Tygaran Alliance/Galactic Alliance vs First Order Rebellion of Kaeshana)

[Natasi Fortan]

"It's my first foray into a battle zone, and as it turns out, I might be the worst field reporter in the history of galactic news media," said Liddy into the low-resolution camera of her datapad communicator. "It's been just a few hours since I landed on Kaeshana to cover the First Order's scientific mission here and, in that time, I've lost my cameraman and my camera, my uplink equipment, and my shuttle. Of course the Chairman of the company will remind me that it's actually his cameraman, his camera, his uplink equipment, and his shuttle, but since it's my ass that almost got blown up down here, I think I'm entitled. And since my vlog is hosted on my own holonet domain, there's a chance he'll never find out."

She paused, looked down at the picture-in-picture, and grimaced. "I was going to say it's best to start at the beginning, but in this instance I think I should probably reassure you by saying that's not my blood all over my face. And in my hair -- damn it. Whose blood it is is an interesting question. I think there's some of my cameraman there. And about twenty refugees. Some relief workers and a scientist or three See -- I guess we will start at the beginning." She paused, dumping some of her water from her water bottle onto her sleeve, which she used to wipe grime and dried blood from her face. "Best I can do. All right -- so -- we landed right after the the First Order scientific advanced team set up the sensor station, right next to that first prefab supply distribution center set up by the relief workers." She paused. "And then while my cameraman was getting us some establishing shots, and while I was practicing for my standup --" This was, strictly speaking, not true; but she couldn't very well say she had survived an Allied artillery assault on a civilian position because she had chosen that moment to crouch behind a rock to relieve herself because the shuttle's 'fresher system was acting up again, thank you ABS budget cuts! " -- bombs rained near the camp like so much fire and brimstone. I -- finished -- and ran towards the camp and my cameraman started going live. Then... the second volley came."

Her light eyes looked up into the camera in a moment of stark clarity and honesty, her voice trembling as she recounted the events. "The people who weren't destroyed instantly -- ended up on me. I was thrown back away from the camp, and after wandering around this strange world for some time, came across this stormtrooper squad, who graciously allowed me to tag along, provided I kept my head down. So that's what -- oh stang -- it looks like we're moving out." Liddy stood up and pulled her jacket on, covering the flak vest that she wore over her t-shirt and cargo pants. She didn't have a gun because why would a reporter have a gun but after today's events she really wanted one, but she did have her voice recorder, datapad communicator, and a switchblade tucked into her boot, so that was something. All this over a thin layer of envirosuit which she fit her helmet snugly into before leaving the shelter.

"Major!" she called, pushing her way towards [member="Rolf Amsel"]. "Major Amsel! What can you tell us about your movements here? What are you hoping to accomplish on Kaeshana after the destruction of the scientific mission? Bear in mind I couldn't broadcast your answer if I wanted to, but inquiring minds want to know, y'know? So?" She thrust her datapad camera and microphone at Amsel as she hurried to match his stride.

 

[Hansen]

FN-888 "Helden"
Kaeshana Southern Hemisphere, IM-455 Modular Garrison "Fenrik".

Joan sits on the edge of gurney within a curtained square and feels the Medical Officer finish wrapping the thermal dressing up and over the right shoulder. It covered the blaster wound she sustained earlier in combat while protecting the citadel. "Thank you, Sir." Joan offers a nod of appreciation to the Lieutenant who greying and middle-aged returns the courtesy with a weathered smile.

"I'm ordering you to two days light duties while that blaster wound heals. You're very lucky it hit the breastplate Lieutenant Lunor." Joan smirks. "I was born lucky sir, I'm a Stormtrooper." The two Officers share a laugh together and Joan slides off of the gurney with her armour weave bodysuit hanging around the waist. "Sev come and help me with the bodysuit!" And with that Sev pushes the white curtain aside and helps Joan back into the armour weave suit. He ensures the atmospheric seal tightens safely. Sev carefully lowers Joans' breastplate down onto the wounded Officers' shoulders.

"I'll be willing to trade you an entire week off-world for that Lightsaber you collected." The man chuckles half-jokingly and solicits a smile from Joan while Sev moves her armours' plastoid plate back into position along her shoulders, arms and torso. "I'm going to hold onto it actually Sir, besides. If I left who would be left behind to keep Sev out of trouble?" Joan shoots Sev a toothy and smug grin, and it prompts the NCO to object with his own sly remark.

"Keep me out of trouble? I'm not the one who got shot by a mercenary." Joan gives an open-mouthed 'caw' at the audacity of that comment and prompts an outburst of laughter from Lieutenant Ryker; The Navy Doctor who finds the friendship between the two Stormtroopers quite endearing to witness. "Two days it is then! I can see you're very close to your subordinates Lieutenant Lunor. I'll forward this medical certificate onto your company and battalion headquarters." Lieutenant Ryker taps at some datapad and then peers upto the now armoured Joan who clutches her helmet with a smile.

"Thank you Sir." Joan offers Lieutenant Ryker a friendly nod before pushing through the curtains with Sev in toe, she keeps the helmet off here indoors as does Sev, their bonnets find a perch on hooked arms "Platoon is doing the meet and greet with the natives, handing out water and rations to the ones coming to us for shelter." Joan turns her gaze towards the NCO, listening silently while the pair of them walk casually towards the Mess. "They reluctantly receive our help, rather proud and arrogant for a people whose planet looks like the face of an irradiated asteroid in some places."

Joan enters silence and her thoughts turn to the unfortunate locals who were falling prey to Predators; Pirates, Thieves, Bounty Hunters. "Have the Platoon come into the Garrison, its time to eat. How is Lightning, Trauma and the others?" Joan asks and looks over to Sev with a worried expression. Sev returns a soft smile; Good news hopefully. "Well, Lightning is going to have a flash-cloned prosthetic for his right leg and Trauma is in a bacta tank and will probably need physical therapy afterwards." Sev pauses in his delivery for what passes for good news after a battle. "The other wounded are in Bacta tanks, and so should you." Sev shoots a knife-hand towards Joan's carbon scored breastplate. "You heard the Doc, take it easy or I'm going to relieve you of duty." Sev tries to solicit a chuckle from Joan but is found wanting, the Mess' double bulkhead door splits open and the sweet scent of freshly cooked food shoot up their nostrils. That in itself helped the Officer Cheer up.

"I think everyone could use a hot meal. Get all our sections up here, including vehicle crews." Joan gives a weary smile and collapses on the nearest bench and pivots inwards in the direction of the table. Sev without a word walks off towards the steaming trays.

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

Location: Citadel of Dawn
Allies: [member="Nima Tann"], [member="Draco Vereen"], [member="Tempest"], [member="Joza Perl"], [member="Michael Sardun"], [member="Aeron Kreelan"], [member="HK-36"], [member="Audren Sykes"]
Enemies: [member="Asharad Graush"], [member="Ludolf Vaas"], [member="Rolf Amsel"]

Among the common Firemane grunts, she was known as Cinder, whereas Tempest was Sparky. Elpsis was all passion and raw aggression. Lacking restraint, she burnt as brightly as the tempestuous flames she often summoned. These qualities had made her a remarkably poor Jedi. However, they served her very well as a master of the Order of Fire, Firemane's Force-using arm. Here, the qualities that had prevented her from fulfilling her potential as a Jedi became assets. Here she had banished the spectre of her vile father. Not the least after she beat the crap out of him in hell.


Beneath her helmet, her red hair glowed brightly like a true firemane. Power rippled from her hands when she summoned a powerful, thermic lance like blast that struck with the intensity of plasma salvoes, melting durasteel and crippling a flame walker. A feral war cry left her lips. Telekinetically, she grabbed the aforementioned walker and tossed it into another, turning it into an improvised projectile as if it were a boulder.


Her ears were ringing with the sound of explosions, her face was baked in sweat. Over the cacophony of sound that the battlefield was filled with, she received the message from the Greycloak. Abregado-Rae forces had established a bridgehead, now it was time to attack. Allied forces were advancing to secure the positions. "This is Abregado Free Droid Army commander at the Dawn Citadel, we were able to secure foothold in the slit trenches at Citadel's approach, we pushed the stormtrooper garrison there into retreat, we are now securing the rest of the trench network and we will be pushing into the Citadel. I repeat, we secured the Citadel approach and we are pushing in to capture it. Enemy armored divisions remaining, please send anti-armor reinforcements or air support. FO dropships heading through mountains due south."


"We got the trenches, let's take the fortress, too. C'mon, Nima," the young firemane roared. She felt familiar presences when the band of allied Mandalorian warriors closed in on their position. She was as of yet unaware that it was 'Uncle Draco' but that would change soon. "Welcome to the party!"

 

[Choli Vyn]

Location: Atmosphere | Red engaged | Gold engaged | Rogues Engaged
Allies: Roth Tillian Choli Vyn Kurt Meyer Laira Vereen Asmus Janes Arix Askrima

Engaging Enemies in aire: [member="Sara Lee Jones"] and Bolt flight
Red Squadron X-Wings directly engaging ground troops at [member="Ludolf Vaas"]

Shit, shit, shit, shit!

With a steadying of her thrusters and the cover fire from Red Squadron, Choli descended to the ground. Nothing ever prepares you for crashing. It just hurts. It hurts and feels as if you've had the wind knocked out of you.

Standard protocols for any crash initiated. The datadump and frying of electronics. The wiping of anything important. Lieutenant commander Choli Vyn's last known location was transmitted to friendlies. R4-D9's wail of panic and subsequent beep, beep, h-ooooooootttt was the last thing she heard.

Coming to took a few seconds of gathering her bearings. [member="Garett Van"] wouldn't find Choli Vyn's starfighter. The battlefield had made the entirety of the battlefield a starfighter and vehicle graveyard. It was raining debris, laser fire, and anti-aircraft fire. Pain lanced down the entire right side of her body. Blood trickled from under her helmet at her temple and mouth. She was pretty such she suffered some broken ribs.

Damnit.

"Arr four?" she huffed out weakly, trying to gather her bearings. A sullen beep brought a wave of relief. Okay, he was still online.

"Come on buddy..." using the Force, the pilot did her best to smooth over the pain. "Let's see what we can do."

"ARGGhh.." the muffled cry went ripping out of her mouth as she unbuckled herself. A push of a button would release her Pebbledrone from it's clutch. Taking stock, she had a TIR stunner, a hand blaster, standard med-kit, and well... whatever she could pilfer from the battle field.

"Come on." she told him, as they both got to the ground to try and find cover.

All the while, the remaining starfighters of Red Squadron did their best to continue the fight against the AA and ground troops led by [member="Ludolf Vaas"]. The same could be said for the remaining bolt flight. It wasn't without sacrifice, as more starfighter pilots lost their lives and became one with the Force.

 

[Mao]

Location: Dawn
Objective: Kick butt
Allies: [member="Elliot Locke"] | Djacen Koyne [member="Laira Vereen"] | Hardock: Zero Four

Enemies in atmosphere: [member="Face"] where are you boo??
DIRECTLY ENGAGING :: Rexus Wenck
[member="FN-888"] [member="Jaron Lesan"]

Figures that this punk would come at her with an electric baton. But that was okay. That was alright.

Sometimes all a girl needs is a little pick me up in order to get the blood pumping. Her armor had a heck of weakness. It did not like any sort of electricity. Made the bones jingle and the blood sing, and fuck was it a fucking pain in the fucking ass.

"Come ahn ya bloody fucking Nexu fucker!" the baton hit, as Mao parried. Shards of pain went running along her forearm and up her shoulder. Nek, take it did that hurt like a mother.

But equal pain meant equal drive, and equal rage. So much fucking rage. Good thing she wasn't a Forcer eh? She'd be a proverbial force of fucking nature were it to be otherwise. Nah, she was just like every other non special snowflake fucker with a propentency of too many brawl fights, far too little sex, and too many smokes.

The hit allowed her to do what Mao wanted to do anyways. Punch the mother fucker right on the nose with enough force to potentially deck him right between the eyes.

"IS 'HA ALLS YA FOOKING GOT!??!" She practically screamed out at him, voice amplified by the voice modulator in her helm. Her HUD bloomed with information on this karker, and right now, Mao had an itch to drag him all across the fucking floor.

All the while, her boys continued the fight. They were dark shadows moving along the battlefield. Tried and true as any fuckers with plenty of experience under their belt. They fought because they were the sort to not hold back. There was no retreating here. [member="Jaron Lesan"] would find nothing but a sneer at his depature. Hardock believing that he was nothing but a coward.

Up in the air, the Omega Pyre air support fought for air support against the Mandalorian [member="Face"] and her assets. More laser fire, more jamming, more of that lovely cinematic fluff that made things look epic in a holofilm.

 

[Kenth Typho]

Location: Dawn
Objective: Aid In The Conquest
Allies: [member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Djacen Koyne"] | [member="Elpsis Elaris"] | [member="Trextan Voidstalker"] | [member=Canal] | [member="Dax Fyre"] | [member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"] | [member="Audren Sykes"] | [member=Mao]

Enemies: [member="Rexus Wenck"] | [member="Rolf Amsel"]

--

What was it with him and getting himself way over his head.

First there was Firebrand over there incinerating people everywhere, now Commander Shout was screaming at the top of her lungs in rage. It was like the Galaxy was trying to tell him that he did not belong. But that was the entire thing, wasn't it? Moment you told that crap to Elly, he smirked, took a drag from a cigarette and just kept on trucking along. Because he wasn't the guy to be told what to do. Even if the Agent did start to wonder what they were feeding these girls and where he could get a slice of it himself at some point.

Somewhere, sometime, he managed to grab a blaster rifle from one of the corpses.

There wasn't time anymore to be nice, was time to get dirty and bloody. Shout was already attracting attention from a bunch of goons, who were sizing her up and waiting for a beat in the fight.

Trying to get a shot in her without hitting their own man, no doubt.

Suppressive fire. While Locke did that, he wondered when he'd get a fisticuff fight of his own. It was really difficult for him to keep mowing down faceless visor mooks all the time.

"You know," His voice filtered through Mao's rage and into her comms. "I bet I will down mine, before you down yours."

 

[Asmus Janes]

[member="Ishana Pavanos"]

Friends. They all had them and they could call on them all day for aid. But at the end of it all it was each individual, personal little battle that made the whole. One could strategize all you wanted, but if the individuals and small units did not perform everything could unravel. Rogue Squadron had lost two fighters so far, Gold Squadron was still hitting ground targets in their Y-Wings and several Firemane squadrons were still in the air. It was certainly contested.

The TIE arced back towards him, using gravity to pick up speed. He computer came close to achieving lock, but it also warned him that missile lock had been achieved in return. He could have kept straight and fired. It would have killed the other pilot, but he wouldn’t have been able to do a thing about those concussion missiles. It wouldn’t have been a fair trade. The First Order and most imperial factions used swarms of cheap, fast TIE fighters. It wouldn’t have been a fair trade. Everyone in the Alliance was prepared to give their life, but it wasn’t to be thrown away.

He pulled aside and angled his nose down, building up some speed. The two missiles followed, keeping a set distance between each other as they tracked him.

“Well, this is going to be risky…” he muttered to himself. Using that velocity he pulled his nose back up and slammed the lever to close his S-foils. A yank on the stick rolled him a full ninety degrees. He grimaced.

Both missiles exploded as he cut between them, shaking his craft around. Warning beeps flared across his consoles.

“R-12 I need the deflector shield back online!”

Where was his target? She’d used that velocity from the planet’s gravity to get a lead on him. His S-foils unfolded and he gave chase.

“Rogue One you’re closing on the enemy’s air defence sphere on your own. Confirm.”

Asmus shook his head. He needed his shields to recycle and backup to make a run on the enemy. He dropped his nose and brought his X-Wing low to the ground. Reluctantly he mentally disengaged himself from the chase.

“Coming back around. Rogues Four and Five, close on my position and we’ll escort some Y-Wings for a run on the enemy.”

A target of opportunity appeared, several Stormtroopers advancing ahead. His targeting computer locked on for some precise shots as he swung around and back towards GADF forces to meet up with his Flight.

"I'll be back for you shortly," he promised his target.

 

[Trextan Voidstalker]

[member="Charlyra Araano"] [member="Kyrel Ren"]

There were limits to the way on could go up and then back down again. The laws of physics were quite clear that velocity had to become zero before coming back down again. Assuming low-rent Vader wanted to get himself clear of another swing Trext had nearly a whole two seconds to turn and bring his saber above.

The Force warned him of the impending strike. The Dark Jedi Padawan had so easily dismissed each of his own telekinetic strikes that it was time for him to do likewise. Gritting his teeth he braced himself and held out his left hand, palm forwards. His feet slid back several inches in the mud, but he held his ground.

Both hands returned to his saber as he stalked in the opposite direction to Charlyra. Trextan didn’t even know who his ally was, but he would be grateful once he had the luxury of considering such things. The Ren might have wanted to manoeuvre them both, but the pair had other ideas. On open ground there was little he would be able to do to dictate the pace and flow of the battle. Not without draining his reserves further and the wounded cybernetic creature couldn’t keep this up forever.

What he sensed in his ally was a depth of resolve he could not match. She started her diatribe as both circled the black-clad sith. Trextan was careful of his footwork, never leaving an opening, always ready for a county. The woman talked on and on. Both who fought here seemed willing to waste breath and energy. His father, [member="Jacen Voidstalker"], had barely spoken more than a few curt orders since they had arrived and he was about the best soldier Trextan had met. That self-admission would have led to further consideration if he had the mental capacity to spare.

“I regret…” he called out loudly as he closed, “…not stretching this morning.”

And with that he opened his account. A suddenly straight lunge for the upper body. But this time it was a feint. As his blade came in, the tip circled around to strike for the knee. His tactic was simple, but effective. Short and quick strikes. All he had to do was tie up the man’s saber and he would be vulnerable to Trextan’s new ally. He could turn and block Trextan, call on the Force, or perhaps even continue his assault on the woman and let him severe his leg at the knee.

 

[Leo Vandermolen]

Location: Citadel of Dawn
Allies: TKO, GA, [member="Dax Fyre"], [member="Joza Perl"]
Enemies: FO, [member="Asharad Graush"]
Items: Bandit Speeder, Nexu Armour

The adrenaline had well and truly set in now, and so had the nerves. Leo caught his breath, stopping and taking the time to think. His best bet was Dax's sabre, at the moment, it was practically his only bet. Leo had no idea how that force chit worked, weather he would 'sense' Leo as he positioned himself in the Sith's blind-spot, or if a distraction would draw his attention elsewhere. Right now, Leo hoped the Ms. Perl was a good enough distraction... Leo burst into a sprint towards the two engaged in combat, aiming to slide past the Sith and swipe the sabre from his belt in one concise movement. Don't screw it up this time...

 

[Sara Lee Jones]

[member="Choli Vyn"]

Her breath was ragged, her body was hurting all over, yet she didn't stop moving, not for a minute, no she had to finish her objective...something in her pushed to make the enemy admitted defeat....or fall in battle

She managed to come upon the crash site, she looked around as she spotted movement, she walked slowly as she limped a bit before, she couldn't tell if it had been friend or foe...so she decided to yell to get the persons attention howevershe tried and started coughing

Her blaster pistol raised, she was cautious as she kept pursuing hoping to get her closer to see who it was

 

[Zmej Ren]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GoIwr-zdA9M​

[SIZE=10pt]Somewhere near Santaissa[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]Allies: FO[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]Enemies: [member="Judah Lesan Jr."] & GA friends (no dogpiles and murderblobs pls)[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]Gear: Armour, baton, gun, pike[/SIZE]


[SIZE=10pt]One of the many transports bringing in reinforcements also carried Zmej Ren, a fresh addition to the First Order’s vast war machine. The enigmatic figure stood still, face hidden beneath an expressionless helmet, clad head to toe in matte black armour bearing strong similarities to that of the white-wearing stormtroopers surrounding her form, yet she was not one of them. Despite the obvious differences in her armament as well, the Force user did not lead these deadly, well-trained soldiers as Jedi generals and Sith marshalls often have. Indeed; Zmej had orders to support the troops and assist in fights against Force users – and fully intended to do just that, armed with several tools perfect for the job. It would be a lie to say she lacked ambition though; the teenager itched to prove herself and the ongoing war on Kaeshana would be her first test. This baptism by fire suited her fiery nature well, further fuelled by the horrors of war that poured more and more dark energy into the Force, eliciting anxiety or excitement in those sensitive to its mythical currents. Zmej’s sheer passion, incredible lust to drive the Alliance off the planet caused her entire body to shiver.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]She would see the planet destroyed before she surrendered it to the mongrel dogs trying to wrestle it from the First Order’s grasp. The stubborn natives would either bow to the Imperial law or die. Unity came with obligations, there was no place for unrest in the First Order.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]The entire vessel rocked those entombed within back and forth, yet nobody spoke a word. Thick with anticipation and fear, the tension was palpable even to those without the ability to directly touch it with their mind. Like a helpless swimmer in the middle of an ocean, Zmej found herself powerless to resist the bleak atmosphere – all these swirling emotions drowned her, affecting her own mental state and if not for the rigid training, she would have likely collapsed. Anger, hatred, aggression – all flooded like blood through the teen’s veins. Her armoured hand clenched into a fist as Zmej Ren attempted to tame the uncontrollable shaking portrayed by her body, to no avail. Fortunately enough, nobody noticed, as all armoured shells moved in some manner when the shuttle descended towards the surface.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]When stillness and barks of the commanding officer announced landing, a momentary sensation of relief washed over the Ren. Only seconds separated them all from getting outside, yet the disciple was the first to march out, armoured boots uncompromisingly striding down the metal ramp and kissing Kaeshana’s scorched earth. All soldiers behind her flooded out like a tidal wave, rushing forth or finding cover, aiming their rifles and squeezing the trigger. Several explosions rang out, screams. Blaster fire started flying back and forth in a deadly exchange. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]This was it and she embraced it to the fullest. Only the lack of a lightsaber stopped the Ren from immediately storming the enemy positions.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Holding her force pike in one hand, Zmej went for the pistol holstered on her form, rushing towards the nearest pile of rubble, ducking. The ruins did not protect her very long – driven by fury, the Ren leapt out, squeezing off two shots at the enemy, dropping one man and prompting others to get down. In that moment, she charged forth, blaster aimed and spitting at anyone who decided to peek out. Several stormtroopers joined the attack, rushing the enemy positions.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]There was nothing to be afraid of.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]This was a good way to die.[/SIZE]

 

[Progflaw99]

In Orbit \ Kaeshana​

Status: Engaged by [member="Kurt Meyer"]​

In Vicinity: [member="Pierce Fortan III"] \ [member="Ishana Pavanos"] \ [member="Sara Lee Jones"]​

Surviving TIE/In Count: 8 (4 KIA)​

​

Pushing his fighter forward as he feigned a list, he could feel the inertia as the ion engines engaged fully, pushed to their limit in an attempt to not only escape the sporadic fire between his bucks and weaves but to The conflict had escalated around the two opposing pilots, calls on Nils' comm littered with casualty reports, damage reports, and commands - but he'd tuned most of it out. It was just one more of those things he'd learned to use to his advantage, the single-minded focus towards the dogfight at hand and the awareness with which to glean that which was pertinent and ignore that which was not, some would say it was this uncanny ability that had aided him thus far in his career.

Even with the speed Nils was pushing his fighter to, the enemy vessel seemed to push just that much faster. Calmly he began to re-assess the situation as he dodged in an unpredictable sequence, the enemy's blasters rattling the pilot as they sporadically landed glancing blows to his deflector. Speed. He couldn't beat the speed of the enemy fighter, its engineers obviously building on the original TIE Interceptor model but whatever they'd done to the engines had given it the edge. Maneuverability. The nimble fighter behind him had that in spades. Already Nils had witnessed that firsthand. His opponent had the advantage of equipment, but at what cost? The energy efficiency couldn't be that great. A thought occurred to the young pilot just as a plethora of warning lights and sounds filled the cockpit. Reactionary Nils pressed forward on the controls, dropping the guise of damage, nervously eyeing his shield readout as he brought the interceptor into a steep dive towards the surface of Kaeshana. The young pilot recognized the shriek of a missile warning - *strange* he thought, as there hadn't been a lock warning. Casting a cursory upward glance as his fighter dove as fast as he could push it towards the surface, he saw two golden streaks of flame shoot over his cockpit. Grinning as he felt the full force of the Ion Engines press him into his seat he did a half spin. Soon he'd be in atmos, it was there he would be able to either lose his tail or at the very least, even the playing field.

 

[BE-183]

Post: 9
Location: Citadel of dawn - Around the trenches / Headed to the northern mountains
Objective: Fight the supersoldier / Support the forces of Major Amsel
Status: Rifle gone, shoulder pad damaged / 6th platoon healed some injuries, one flametrooper disabled
Allies: [member="Rolf Amsel"] + First Order
Enemies: [member="Dish"] + Galactic Alliance

[member="Dish"]:
Bee didn’t do things in half measures. The slice that shot towards her although only a feint incited her to spring out of range entirely, since she didn’t know that. In a way the ruse gave her a little more starting distance from the actual attack, though this was still very close. Her riposte came as a series of blade swipes towards his knife arm punctuated by elusive dashes; on the defensive or at least giving the appearance of it. If stormtroopers kept showreels this footage would surely end up on her portfolio. Provided she made it out in one piece.

Had she the time for intricate abstraction, she would have hoped her luck stuck around. She would have furthermore thanked two decades of arduous training for her dexterity, thought her opponent more beast than man given the apparent evidence, or allowed herself a concealed triumphant grin at this insignificant trooper, no stronger than her comrades, giving the big bad superhumanoid a run for his money. However the usual conceptions were muted, her state of mind conditioned in behaviour dictating survival to be concentrated, reflexive, in a strict battle focus.

The GA soldiers met with some success, and kept the pressure on the now retreating stormtroopers. However, they might have been surprised to find in their advance, should they have crossed the previously occupied cover, a bundle of one neatly arranged flamer tank wreathed in about 20 thermal detonators, synchronised fuses ticking down to a few moments. That would explain their prior moment of ceasing fire. Ignited conflagrine-14, piercing shrapnel and sudden nerve trauma were all wrapped into one generous parting gift.

There was one short message on Bee's comlink. "Fire in the hole."

Boom.



[member="Rolf Amsel"]:
Following their explosive departure, under SC-1100's authority the unit made haste to cover what ground remained, only to see the platoon they came to assist pulling out from the nigh invulnerable horde of droids. "Not so much as a goodbye," the cold, gruff voice of the new leader remarked, in spite of the obvious pressure they had faced. He addressed his platoon, "Even wounded, we are superior. Recover, and forge on to crush these vermin." They moved covertly, sheltering among ruined pits of the land to apply medpacs. They were one down with their former leader, one of their medics off playing hero; surprisingly her vitals were still active.

Bringing up a nearby CO, the leader sought his platoon's next task. "This is Sergeant Zero, 6th platoon northbound. Just tell us what needs killing." He furtively moved the troops up to the northern grounds of the Citadel after reading the major's holomap coordinates.

 

[Garett Van]

---------------------------------------------------​

Objective: Search and Rescue​

Location: Original Landing Zone​

Allies: First Order [member="Sara Lee Jones"]​

Enemies: GA and their Allies [member="Choli Vyn"]​

​

​

Sgt. Viera Illerian Commanding​

----------------------------------------------------------​

​

Dorn Company continues to track Sara, following her trail of both footprints and blood. Though still not sure if the trail was from a allied pilot or not, all the troopers could decipher is there was a downed First Order pilot somewhere in the area. They would continue to follow the blood trail and footprints till either they find the pilot, alive or dead, or deduce that it is not the one they are looking for and try to take them captive.​

​

*sigh* "Well things have gone from bad to worse haven't they 'Sledge'?"​

​

"Yes Sergeant they have. Who would have guessed a bunch of aid workers would have been a target for attack."​

​

"Enough about the aid workers trooper! We all know what has been buzzing around the net alright."​

​

The trooper nodded in affirmation, as the group continued to slog through the mountains, looking for any sign of this pilot the Colonel, said allegedly was out here. Sgt. Illerian still couldn't shake a feeling this was some elaborate ruse to get her out of the picture with this Company. Viera and the Regiment's Colonel never saw eye to eye, and the only person that was able to keep Viera around was Garett, but since he was currently KIA there was nothing now to stop the Colonel from doing his best to get rid of what he thought was a troublesome Non Comm. Viera on the other hand felt that the Colonel only got his position because he knew people in high places and he wasn't competent enough to Command. ​

 

[Rexus Wenck]

Objective: Beat The Karking Poodoo Out Of This Psycho
Location: First Order Trenches, Citadel of Dawn.
Troops: 41 Stormtroopers
Equipment: Riot Baton, Stormtrooper Armour.

Rexus fell back again, panting. Kark she was good. But not good enough. The trooper had had his share of fights. His share of knocks to the gob. Even his own collection of broken nose. Although her mighty hook would rank among the, well, better attempts at dislodging the troopers nasal cartilage.

The lieutenant picked himself up, and stretched, baton still crackling. He smiled a little, what an insecure moron. What an insecure moron, trying to use false bravado. This one, the one who'd socked him in the jaw, was a dime a dozen tough guy. And Rexus was pretty sure he'd be able to kriff this one up, pretty damn badly. "The real question sugar," Rexus said as blood began to pour out of his nose, "Is, is that all you've got?"

He began to advance on her, baton buzzing. The stormtrooper swung for her head, knowing she'd try to block with the classic Wenck right hand playmaker, levelled at her ribs.

Above the trenches, the men of the Gundark Gunners continued to hold the line. "Oi, sergeant, the LT!" One private barked, "He's fighting some kriffer, support fire?"

Twigg shook his head, and ducked out of cover to deliver an incoming GADF squad their recompense, "No need, we need to look after ourselves up here!" he snapped, "Rexus can look after himself!"

"Sir yessir sarge!" The private replied, opening fire upon more hostiles.

"Come on lads, keep the pressure up!" Twigg roared, "We're not going to let anyone past this point!"

[member="Elliot Locke"] | [member="Mao"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Location: Citadel of Dawn
Objective: Engage Asharad
Allies: Galactic Aliance, Tygaran Alliance, TKO
Enemies: FO
Forces: 345/400 TKO Marines with Magnetic Repeaters and Handheld Shattergun Rotary Cannons, 19/24 snipers in the eastern mountains in Nexu Armor with standard sniper rifles

As [member="Asharad Graush"] tugged her forwards, Joza Perl went along for the ride. Rather than rooting herself to her spot with an anchor of Force, she used the momentum of the Sith’s pull, reacting to the pair of sabers set for her core. One was seeking to bury itself into her right flank, the other to puncture through her chest right below her guard. Her left saber swept lower in time to meet Vyrassu’s own, kyber blue sparking against warm gold with a satisfying hiss, spitting bright flickers of energy as the enemy blade was parried off to the side in one deft movement. At the same time, she swung her right saber out to greet the crimson beam threatening to leave her with a melted set of ribs, but appeared to undershoot the attempted saberlock. Asharad’s lightsaber would come in full contact with her right arm, melting through the armor and leaving an unsightly molten hole on her forearm just beneath her elbow.

Sometimes having a limb removed in battle had its advantages. For Joza, this meant that the blood red saber would cut no further, given that the only thing that now stood in its way was a cybernetic right arm made from phrik with gross melted pink synthflesh around it. The undershoot was intentional, giving her the opening she needed to flick her wrist to the right, joints rotating to bring her saber down in a quick, clean cut that would slice through the hilt of his saber—or cut him at the wrist. [member="Leo Vandermolen"]'s attempt to retrieve Dax's saber would go largely unnoticed by her given that she'd tagged him as a friendly, but she likely provided enough of a distraction. That, or Leo would become the unfortunate distraction.

--
[member="HK-36"] and [member="Ludolf Vaas"]

The bolt pinged off of Ludolf’s personal shield and Ivan grimaced, skittering along the rocks as quickly as he could while keeping his cover. He was well aware that taking the shot could out his location, but hadn’t known that the Commander was able to absorb blaster fire. Was he a Force user, perhaps? Or was this the work of some worn device? Regardless, the pilot wouldn’t have the time to mull over how it had happened, and instead chose to relay the information. “Commander Vaas, foothills to the Northwest, ha—oh, chit.”

His eyes landed on the airborne device slated to land a meter or two away, and a moment later it detonated. The sonic frequency was the last thing he’d heard, after which his head hit the ground unceremoniously, body slumped against the rocks and armor cracked and torn from the high velocity oscillations that had rippled through the air. While Ivan Volek was down for the count, a trio of snipers would move in above the foothills, far more stealthy and skillful than the Corellian in their craft. They hadn’t been given the full detail on Vaas, only his location and weren’t aware of his shield. The camouflaged women were silent, slithering along the rocks as they moved towards the Commander’s location.

Loadout:

Spoiler

-Standard lightsaber (x2)
-Sasori Medium Armor
-Ranger Shotgun
-AI Wrist Blaster
-VT Needle Disruptor
-Tactical Fighting Blade
-Glop Grenade (x2)
-Stun Pearl (x5)

 

[Judah Lesan Jr.]

Somewhere near Santaissa
Allies: GA
Enemies: [member="Zmej Ren"]
Gear: Lightsaber, Basic battle armor, DL-44

Judah was tired of watching everything around him fall apart. His loyalty to the Silver Jedi had been lost after the events of Korriban. While one act should not have not have condemned the whole, Judah had placed the blame largely on the leadership of the order. Someone as the butcher should have been identified early, and rooted out of the ranks before it could have happened. That sent Judah searching yet again. This back and forth had to end. The Galactic Alliance would be his new home, and it would be his permanent home. It was time to top living like a vagabond. His father had done so too much, and Judah was not his father. There was enough of his mother in him as well, and the young Jedi went looking for a fight.

War provided a good opportunity for that. He found himself in the middle of one as the Galactic Alliance set out to free another world from the grip of the First Order. There was no longer any fear of dealing out death either. War meant lives were lost, and better someone else than his. He would do his best to not take a life if it was avoidable, but he would not hesitate if it came to it.

There was no master for him yet, so Judah followed the forces around looking for any evidence of a dark side force user aiding the military efforts of the First Order. His heart was thumping his chest as he had not seen battle to this scale since his duel on Dac. The Corellian was confident in his training, and confident in the blade which hung from his hip. The battle armor was generic, some thing he picked up from the Galactic Alliance armory. The New Jedi Order had everything he could want or need, but he was not used to armor. It would slow him down, though he opted to wear only the essential parts.

Blaster fire reigned down on their position as the First Order had sent another boat of soldiers. The troops hid behind their barricades as Judah lunged to deflect the blaster bolts he could in order allow the responding stream of fire to be returned to the oncoming combatants. That' when Judah picked up the familiar presence of another force user among them. His attention turned to her, sending the blaster bolts which were coming his way into enemy storm troopers. She advanced from behind the rubble, and Judah fixed his gaze on her. The emerald blade was already humming its song as the battle was about to begin.

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Location: Near the citadel of dawn
Enemies [member="Trextan Voidstalker"] and [member="Charlyra Araano"]
Allies: FO

He just stared at the girl for sometime. He found it oddly funny, that this girl had to go on some monologue, about force knows what. He still kept his saber up and barely kept himself from laughing at this hero's speech. He didn't care about this girl's regrets or anything for that matter, he just wanted to see her die. After his attempted force push, he gazed at his opponents now on a level playing field with the two he had felt that he had the home field advantage.

He kept cursing himself more as he went into a Soresu defense parrying both their blows. He concentrated on blocking her blows, as well as his. He was starting to get tired of this game, he had not planned on facing two opponents, and still hated on how one was behind him still and the other in front, despite the attempt made earlier to thwart the disadvantage he was in. He knew that despite his cybernetic strength that even he couldn't last forever. He merely focused on defending than the offensive as the girl he saw as a threat more than he did the boy.

He was amused by the boy's comment, as he thought that it ruined the girl's little hero moment with such a boring statement. He than saw that the boy was than trying to hit his legs. He yelled angrily as he turned and attempted to force push the boy knocking him into a set of rocks. "Enough!!" He than directed his attention back over to the girl. He said as he went into a offensive stance. "It seems hardly unfair to have a two on one advantage. If I am going to fight i rather start by dealing with you first girl." He said his vocabulaters booming the less than pleased tone through the metallic baritone.

 

[Hansen]

FN-888 "Helden"
Kaeshana Southern Hemisphere, IM-455 Modular Garrison "Fenrik".

Joan has a mealbread covered plate placed down beneath her eyes by Sev; The Mealbread featured hot succulent bacon sandwiched down the middle, a pleasant treat for any battle weary soldier. "Thanks Sev." Joan meets the NCOs gaze, he sits down on a bench opposite to her and places his own flat tray atop the table. All the crockery here bares the coat of arms of the First Order to remind all of their mission and loyalty.

"I saw the mealbread and couldn't resist, given how much I know you love the stuff." Lips stretch into a smug grin at the Lieutenant, poking fun at Joan's almost sadomasochistic love for the tasteless and boring combat rations, to the NCO they tasted like pliable cardboard. Sev takes a mouthful of some cut sliced from an aquatic creature and battered by the skilled Army chefs working the Garrisons' kitchen. Much better than the food they were provided aboard Star Destroyers or in the Field.

Joan's pallor tugs into a scowl although corner of mouth rises into a half-smile. "What, do you want some?" Joan hungrily stuffs the mealbread down taking a healthy chunk of bread and bacon into mouth before putting the bite marked bread back onto plate, chewing with pursed lips. Sev simply smiles in return before his eyes are drawn up by the approaching sound of two familiar voices, Deadeye and Shrapnel.

"Should have seen this one Mercenary, dropped down as fast as he popped his head up. Glare never misses his shots." Deadeye looks with his Hazel eyes over to Shrapnel's scarred cheek. The two squad leaders are followed in toe by the three dismounted Infantry squads of 3rd Platoon. Weary Stormtroopers with dirty faces all struggle to carry their helmets through the exhaustion that had settled in. They are hungry, thirsty and demoralised by their earlier battle. "We'll win the next one when we're not outnumbered fifty to one, besides we didn't go to Santaissa or the Citadel to fight battles. We came to give out relief supplies to these ingrates." Shrapnel replies with a hint of venom oozing from wind dried lips, the two of them come close to the table with plates held in hand.

"We'll tell the Lieutenant about the prisoner after we eat." Shrapnel nods in agreement with Deadeye, the two of them take a seat and flank Joan. While Hotshot wheels around the table and sits beside Sev as does Butcher.

 

[Micah Talith]

Well, [member="Vexen"] and [member="Irajah Ven"] were not the only ones that had to deal with the results of the concussion wave wrecking their ears. At least he had the helm, but even then, it still gave the Talith a heck of a headache.

Biting back a halfcocked, "Gorram it," Micah swung his gaze over the diminutive figure of the brunette.

[ I can only assume since you are yelling that you are breathing and conscious. ] his voice was a little louder than normal due to trying to adjust his volume.

Another grimace and then he took a moment to really get a good look at her. He was not his auntie Amore, but he could at the very least gauge to see what her injuries were. And if any were life-threatening at the time.

[ Vex, keep a look out will you -- I'm gonna check her over. ]

Both hands came up, palms out.

[ Please don't smack me, ] came his attempt at a joke, his voice still reflecting a measure of humor though the modulator of his helm.

[ I swear I'm only doing this to check you out. ]

A pause. Then a chuckle.

[ Okay, come on that was funny. ]

Sometimes, one had to find the humor even in the grimmest of situations. In this case, it was serving a two-fold purpose: to distract Irajah and to at least lighten the mood.

She had, after all, been the only life spared from the fiery ball of ship debris.