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

[KH-5675]

LOCATION: Santaissa, Kaeshana
OBJECTIVE: Survive Ambush
ALLIES: FO {None In Vicinity}
ENEMIES: GA {[member="Von Kyux"]}

Spoiler: Equipment

Armor:

Spoiler: Equipment

• FO-01 Stormtrooper Armor: Standard, x1

Melee Weapons:

• Z6 Riot Control Baton: Standard, x1

Ranged Weapons:

• F-11D Blaster Rifle: Standard, x1
• SE-44C Blaster Pistol: Standard, x1

First to break the silence was KH-0080. The wounded man laughed, hard, chest shaking with every breath. Soon the laughing devolved into coughing, his pain quite audible. While he took a few moments to recollect himself his squad shuffled closer to him. Unsurprisingly, Esker was at the front, eager to try to help his friend. As quickly as he could he scrambled for the abandoned medkit, knowing that it was the only possible salvation for Eighty. Maybe it was already too late. Perhaps his efforts would soon prove to be futile, and his hopes would be thoroughly dashed. These possibilities occurred to him, soft worries in the back of his mind, but he did his best to push them aside. The rest of his squad, however, didn't seem so hopeful.

"Can't believe we survived that, eh?" Eighty grumbled, forcing out words between coughs. His voice was hoarse, his throat sore, and his breathing uneven. "I mean, I ain't... I ain't gonna make it... but to be honest, I didn't... think any 'a us would." Letting out another string of coughs he turned to Esker, watching the young man search through the medkit. With a sigh he raised his right hand to his helm, switched his comm to private so that only his friend could hear him, and prepared to speak again. "Hey, Dunny-Boy... I know I owe you a beer still, right?... So... if ya don't make it, and ya better make it, meet me at the bar in whatever comes after life... okay? I'll buy you all the drinks... all the drinks you could want. Just... just don't rush to meet me there..."

If he hadn't been watching a friend die, Esker might have laughed at that. Instead he frowned, bit back his words (knowing full well that his voice would crack if he spoke), and gently grasped the shoulder of his buddy. It was his way of saying 'you did good, pal, you did good'. The moment ended as quickly as it had begun. With one last shallow breath, Eighty succumbed to his wounds, head falling to his chest, body slumping on the ground. One of the other troopers murmured something akin to a farewell, then turned away. There was naught but silence for a few moments, a twisted sort of calm falling over them, and Esker took a second to recollect himself.

"C'mon kid, let's keep moving," Sergeant Khalthe said, resting a gentle hand on the man's back. Though his voice seemed as gruff as ever, it had an unusually soft undertone, making it clear that he was trying to offer his sympathies. It was a nice gesture, but one that did little to help. "You can mourn later, Private, but right now you have to get up and keep fighting. Otherwise you'll end up dead too, and I really don't want to have to do that much paperwork," Khalthe added, seemingly joking for once in his life. Although Esker was not amused, he was stirred from his sadness, motivated enough to rise back to his feet. May you find peace in the stars, he thought. Then he turned away, picking his rifle back up, and readied himself for whatever to come.

That 'whatever' turned out to be a squad of Mandalorians. Their attack was both unexpected and unsurprising; the Stormtroopers had been aware of nearby threats, but their moment of mourning had rendered them unprepared. If not for the quality of their armor, they surely would have fallen within moments. Instead they were able to roll into cover almost as soon as the fight started. Most of the four remaining soldiers had trained their entire life for this sort of thing. Esker had less experience than the others, but had always been quick on his feet. Fething hell, more resistance already? He thought as he found shelter behind what remained of a wall. As quickly as he could he reloaded his rifle, noting with a glance that his allies were doing the same.

Once he was good to go he peeked out from behind cover, firing off shots as he did, the HUD in his helmet greatly assisting with aim.

 

[Kaida Taldir]

Location: Air, heading towards the outskirts of Santaissa, coming from the west.
Objective: Destroy the fascists
Allies: Tygaran Alliance, Galactic Alliance
Enemies: Fascists


It was time for a reckoning. The dropship, one of many craft forming the small flotilla, shot through the sky. It swept across the scarred surface of Kaeshana. The planet was dotted by mountain ranges, seas, forests and ruined. It had been hit hard by the cataclysm, but still the Eldorai endured - and if the occupants of the craft had their say they would rise again, reclaiming their agency from the foreign tyrants who sought to impose their will on them and lead them to slavery under the guise of 'humanitarian efforts'.


Kaida was silent and stoic when she stood alongside her soldiers. Their Chaplain, a Warsinger among the Angelii, had been holding an inspirational sermon. "Strike relentlessly and without mercy. Our cause is just, our weapons are blessed by Her. The Goddess wills the annihilation of the foreign invader. Anyone of you who falls shall enter Asur and sit at Ashira's side. Remember the example of your ancestors. Remember the heroines of Thermiscyra."


"Ashira! Valora!"


Kaida did not join the chorus. She understand the importance of ritual and morale, but she was not a believer herself. She'd seen too much darkness to believe in an omnipotent, omniscient deity. Her gaze swept towards one of the new additions to her unit. "Anything from the...resistance?" Ironically, said resistance was mostly composed of 'Dashdae Eldorai'.


"Yes. We're in touch. They're performing hit and run attacks on the foreign devils. The enemy has concentrated their forces around the White Palace and our Citadel. High time to reclaim our city," Lidanya Lizareois, who was polishing a bolt pistol, spoke.


"Indeed." Kaida's tone was laconic as ever. "The last time we met, I tried to kill you," she added after a moment, while the chanting continued.


Lidanya cocked her head slightly, expression unreadable. "I'm aware. Is this the moment where you suddenly decide to apologise because we're walking into the jaws of death?" There was a hint of a challenge in her tone.


"No."


"Good. Because I wouldn't accept it."


"I had my reasons."


"So did I. You call us Dark Eldorai, but all we wanted was the best of for people," she raised a hand to forestall a possibly acidic comment from Kaida. "You believed following the Queen was better. That's fine. I'm angry and not inclined to bend a knee to Tirathana once again, but I can look past this grudge for the greater good."


For the first time in a while, there was a ghost of a smile on Kaida's face. It did not reach her eyes, but then she had a reputation to maintain as an ice queen. "For what it's worth, though I thought your cause was foolish and reactionary, I never doubted your patriotism. it shall be an honour to fight on your side once more."


"Likewise. I still prefer Illyria to Ashira though."


Kaida glanced to the Chaplain. "I'll keep your secret if you keep mine. Now there's work to do." They were getting closer to Santaissa. Landfall would occur soon. Then the Seraph raised her voice, addressing every soldier aboard. "Kaeshana expects every Eldorai to her duty. No pity, no prisoners."

 

[Djorn Bline]

Location: GADF FOB near Citadel of Dawn
Allies: Galactic Alliance, [member="Krenis Skirata"], [member="Elpsis Elaris"], [member="Elliot Locke"], [member="Trextan Voidstalker"]
Enemies: First Order
Objective: Secure and liberate
Gear:

Spoiler

• Armor
• Rifle
• Pistols (2)
• Thermal Detonators (1)
• Flashbangs (2)
• Physical Concussion Grenade (1)

Back into the fold of war he was. It had been quite a long time since he he stepped in and fought on the front lines of a battle. So long it had been. Not to mention it was a long time since he had served one side of a major war between two factions that controlled and ran the economy, the bureaucracy, the military, and other variables that constituted a governing faction.

So long, but the feeling of combat never left him. After all, he was engineered to be the perfect soldier and was brainwashed to like and hate certain things. Some things that he hated were darksiders and Imperials. Unlike his fellow brethren that went off to pursue a life that didn't pertained any loyalties to any faction besides themselves, Canal on the other hand was loyal to his own values and beliefs. And those said values and beliefs were what the Alliance fought and pursued for.

And so here he was on Kaeshana at the Galactic Alliance's FOB that was aiming on taking the Citadel of Dusk. The clone would have to adapt with working regular soldiers as he had a superiority mentality of clones like him being much better and effective then regular troops, and would often discourage them thus decreasing their morale and being hated.

Time to smash some Stormy's helmet in their face.

 

[RIP Carlyle Rausgeber]

Post: VI
Objective: Brace For Impact.

The Wrath continued to try and pull out of the battle. The wind and rain began to take their toll on the ship, as welll as the lightning. "Captain, we can't move it sir!" The Helmsman reported, "The ship, there's too much pull!"

Captain Guderian looked at his men, "Gents, this is it." The captain warned, "We have done our mission, and hopefully disrupted their forces long enough for our comrades to regroup." He paused, and bit down on his lower lip. "Gentlemen, this will be a phyrric victory for us." He looked over his crew, "Helmsman, turn us around. Get engineering on the line, I want all safeguards regarding the generators integrity and hyperdrive disabled."

There was a pause among the Wrath's crew a slow acknowledgement of what needed to be done. "Understood Captain." The Helmsman replied.

Captain Guderian looked every last officer on the bridge in the eye, "May the Supreme Leader guide us."

[OOC Note: Apologies if it seemed I was pulling her out. I figured for disrupting your days, you deserved some points on the board]

@Siobahn Kerrigan | [member="HK-36"] | | [member="Michael Sardun"] | [member="Nima Tann"]

 

[Kaalia Pavanos]

With: [member='Isla Ashen'], [member='Darth Veles']
In vicinity: [member='Asharad Graush'], [member='Kato'], [member='Pharazon Draken'], [member='Rolf Amsel']

"Thank you." were the only words Kaalia found appropriate. The words that were spoken by her fellow Ren and the hand that rested on her shoulder, if only briefly, washed away the feeling of loneliness she carried with her for so long. In scenarios of life and death are where you find your true allies, and she she was convinced she found them this day. The Ren nodded, trying to hide a smile, but a slight curving of her lips could be seen. There was no struggle, no Light against Dark, no reason to resist the thoughts in her mind. There was determination. A goal. All that fire that normally fueled something that held her back, now propelled her forward. The shackles were broken, at least for now. It felt like she could breathe properly for the first time in years. Maybe she finally found her place in this world.

The plan had changed. They were going to move in the shadows for now, looking to sweep through Santaissa. As Isla and Veles shrinked their prescence in the force, the Disciple followed suit. Stealth was of the essence, and their prescence in the Force would be an easy giveaway. Kaalia shadowed Isla, prowling around the city looking for any hostiles that would cross their path. Keeping an eye out herself, the three made their way to the edge of the city. They stood at the side of a building as Isla looked at Kaalia and Veles, cracked the slightest of smiles, and nodded. Kaalia strengthened the grip on the hilts of her sabers, took a deep breath, then nodded back. Time to put that newfound fire to the test.

"Time to get to work."

 

[Arahael]

#4
Location: Santaissa
Objective: Secure the city
Allies: The First Order and allies
Enemies: Galactic Alliance and allies

As Max continued moving forward, the reinforcements appeared more clearly. Fresh troops were always a relief, and on top of that it seemed that some forces were pushing forward further into the city. "Get me some marks on targets whilst we're still back here, will you?" he nodded towards some signs of enemies. The medic began scanning the distance, then began marking targets whilst on the move.

A sudden aggressive buildup of blaster fire could be heard by Max, pushing him to move faster towards the deployment point. Reaching his platoon, he placed [member="Aesa Urkith"] in the hands of medics, who would begin transporting her further back towards more advanced medical support. "Good luck, Leftenant" he nodded to the pilot.

"Can I get a status report on the vehicles in the area?" Max spoke into his communicator. "No confirmed casualties for the vehicles, they're mostly targeting our troops it appears" came in a response. After transmitting the enemy marks they had gathered before to the vehicles, he spoke to his men "Platoon, advance forward further into the city in a balanced stance. We're meeting the main opposing forces."

Forming an advancing line, Max's platoon advanced towards a position nearby [member="Asharad Graush"] and [member="Pharazon Draken"]. Sustained fired streamed from his troops as soon as any movement was seen. Getting closer to the others, he spoke over local communications "Any chance they'd give us orbital bombardment support?"

 

[Brent Smith]

Post: 2
Location: A Small village on world
Alias: Jones Logan
Allies: First Order
Enemies: GA, those who will try to kill the civilians
Objective: assist in the safety of the civilians from Galactic Alliance genocidal maniacs

Agent Smith pulled in on the young Samka and the civilians she was escorting to safety in time as she gave her orders.

It was an escort for these poor beings. What had started out as a First Order humanitarian effort had escalated into an all out war. He listened to his orders from the teenage Knight of Ren and gave a short nod. Even though they were ok the same side, she still made his skin crawl. All of those force using mind-probers made him feel uneasy.

"Will do, ma'am," he said with a short salute. The agent rotated on his heel to the troopers assigned to him, "Sargent, do you have E-webs or rail guns?"

"Yes, um, sir, we do. But what good will they be and who exactly are you?" the trooper asked.

"Logan, a freelance gun, ex spec ops," Brent said in a convincing tone. He grabbed an insta-welder from his speeder, "Mount them on the back then. You will know what to do."

"Yes sir."

The troops hurried thenselves with their work. Brent reached into the back of his speeder, retrieving a verpine sniper rifle, a few filled ammo clips, and his shooting visor. The first round was ratchet into the rifle with a satisfying click. It always made Brent feel more at home, like he was hunting back home with his father, before the old man's injuries.

As Samka moved out with the civilians, escorting them to safety he let the cam-corder on his visor take the image in. It was one of hope and good will. Some of the storm troopers were even carrying small children in their arms across the battered land. There was war and then there was humanity within it, caring for the weak, sick, young and old. That was what this was all about after all.

"Sir," the sargent reported. "We are here."

Brent uploaded the scene to high command at the Concordia. It was encrypted with a high level of clearance, it would take hours for anyone to decrypt properly without the key code. And even if they what use would it be? "Good. Mount up, follow me."

[member="Samka Derith"]

 

[Desmond C'artyom]

Allies: [member="Tanomas Graf"], Imperial Remnant

Enemy: [member="Darth Prazutis"]


"PURGE SQUADRON COVER OUR BOMBERS!"

The enemy had fallen right into the trap. They had closed to boarding range with the avenger and the rest of the Imperial fleet. But, Purge squadron had not been with the Imperial fleet instead lying in wait near the Alliance fleet. So, as the enemy made range Purge squadron approached from the opposite side of Trimvur Tanomas's fleet.

"For the Empire!"

Desmond and his Squadrons flew towards the closest enemy Vindicator. With most of there TIE's being caught up in defending the boarding craft there would be hardly any to defend their own. Enemy turbo laser's opened fire on the descending craft and the bombers dove low with Purge squadron.

As the vessels maneuvered through the turrets and crevices of the vindicator they released clusters of ion bombs attempting to disable the ships systems. Then as they approached the command deck they began an upward climb.

"Fire on the bridge! We will cut their head off here and now!"

The bombers shifted their aim and began to fire with their HVC guns. Without the proper shielding, even with it. The Vindicator was a sitting duck.

"Great work men!"

The escort and bombers leveled out above the bridge then began a steep dive behind the vessel. They prepared to fire on the vindicators engines.

"Center those HVC guns!"

The bombers did as told then fired. A hail of metal slugs would careen through space to rain down on the enemies engines...

 

[Six-O]

Location: Santaissa
Objective: Skirmish, Harass, Exterminate
Allies: [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"], [member="HK-36"], [member="Tempest"], [member="Aeron Kreelan"], [member="Michael Sardun"], [member="Sed Frieder"], [member="Causstik Rahn"]. [member="Kira Vaal"]
Enemies: [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"], [member="Asharad Graush"], [member="Pharazon Draken"], First Order
Equipment: MKIII-Heavy Bolter, Gorgon Web Rifle, Magnetic Reaper, 6 Eater Grenades, On-Board Weapons Systems
Forces: 28 Eldorai Guerilla Fighters

Two down, whip to back had not born perfect results, evidently. But the circumstances of this Rebellion did not offer a very protracted training regiment. Of course, against a Force-User, what chance did the poor Eldorai have in the first place? Six-O remembered his days with the Sith, after all. He knew what to look for. The common trait that scorned every Apprentice, every Knight, Acolyte, Master, Lord or Count.

Bravado.

His enemy showed his in the very first stanza.

He was a big one, as if were. But so too was Six-O. The difference? His Droid mind was much more adapt at registering the subtle nuances of War. This was not some rolling field where two warriors would meet and exchange blows for honor and glory. This was a real fight. It was dirty. He would be punished as the inferior creature of battle that he was.

13/15 split.

The waving signal had been abrupt, even before the Sith had fully finished his testimony of strength and his Rebels had even fully returned. The Eldorai Guerilla's parted with controlled movement in to opposite buildings at their end of this marquee'd street. As snakes they would coil and slither through the atrophied rinds of large slum. Keeping wide berth from where that Sith ply his trade; Death.

Inside the frequent splashes of fire would surely send that thermal for a spin. As one may imagine, this place was hot and steamy.

Six-O now felt it was time to play a few of his own cards. Show off his toys, like [member="Asharad Graush"] had his own. His, the Droid that is, were not of the glowing, choppy type. His were of the wham bam, kick your rear and chew bubble gum variety. Accept. Six-O could not chew. He did not even understand the sickening fascination behind the organic meat sacks vocoder chewing this sugar rubber.

He detested it in fact. SO now he would take it out on this Sith right here.

The speaker from which the music play grew louder, and from behind the flickering bloom of fire that the IG-Model stood abaft of. He unleashed a suppressing torrent of fire on his foe, whom according to his calculation, was easily in the 2000 meter lethal range of his weapon. Oh he hoped the Sith would do what they always did.

Please do, he thought.

((Edit: That math though. . .))

 

[Hansen]

Elsa Kurze
Ruins of Santaissa

Elsa feels a Medic clamour beneath both of her arms, offering their shoulders for support to the injured pilot. Max wishes her well and Elsa shoots a Stormtrooper a glance from behind the helmet's faceplate. "May the Force go with you Leftenant Fel." Though he could not see it, Elsa flashes a toothy smile before hobbling away, using the medics as a crutch grinding her teeth together to suppress the pain. Lowie follows behind his master and makes a series, pestering Elsa with a most poignant question. "Yes, there is room in an Actis for you Lowie. What would I do without my most loyal rotund companion?" Teeth gnash together in anguish although she still manages to pull a smile at her own 'rotund' quip. The affirmation brings a happy chime out of the rounded astromech as his wheels push through the mud, the sound of close battle ever-present in the ambient sound of rain. Elsa can't help but glance back over right shoulder searchingly for Lieutenant Fel, something is different about that Stormtrooper; Not so brutish and absent of ambition Elsa suspects. Inwardly she hopes that he survives this battle, and looks to him hopefully with Emerald Green eyes from behind polarized visor.


@[member='Max Fel']

 

[Asharad Graush]

Location: Santaissa, City Ruins.
Objective: Cleansing.
[member="Six-O"]

As far as guerilla forces went, when the rebels sought to go to ground in the surrounding buildings, they had had the briefest moments to get a head star before the Sith went after them. He moved quick, and in the darkness that surrounded them, he extinguished his lightsabre. It was evident that Darth Vyrassu was slow when it came to his actual environment. He had located the enemy, and he threw safety out the window.

There were tin cans of fire all over the place.

The closest building, one where he could undoubtedly feel fear, the hate they felt for the occupiers, but an overwhelming determination... Those bins of fire were cast, far away into some buildings, lessening the light for [member="Six-O"], but by that time, the bolts were already through the air, but regardless of whether he didn't feel, or rather didn't realize he was under fire, the Sith Knight never stopped moving.

Something passed his helmet as he turned, casting tins of fire through the air.

He could barely tell in which direction it had come from, but through the Force speed enhancing his movements, an ability that accelerated the user and made things seem slower than they should've been in comparison. He did the only thing he could in the dark; he reacted.

The Force coalesced around him, in the near-complete darkness thanks to the removal of most of the tin cans, it was clear where Darth Vyrassu was. A large figure in all black, and surrounding his person was a bubble of protection. The shrapnel that struck the ground almost two metres past him exploded outwards. Some of the shards had undoubtedly ripped through his armourweave cloak and scraped and performed small cuts across the armour, but the majority of them would've came into contact with the faint red shield.

Regardless as to whether or not the suppressive barrage continued, suppressive measures tended to cover an entire area in bullets and laser fire, or in this case bolters to prevent any foolhardy persons sticking their heads out. Considering it was only A'sharad, and that his two stormtroopers were taking cover in another building outside of the range of shrapnel, the Sith merely had to wait until there was a halt in the fire before he moved and for that, he did his best to calculate the rate of fire of the weapon. Certainly not an automatic. Either the attacks would stop soon, or he would be forced to make his move.

 

[Samka Derith]

Location: Outskirts of Santaissa​

Objective: 'Negotiate' with Galactic Alliance​

Allies: [member="Brent Smith"], [member="Kyrel Ren"], [member="BE-183"]. First Order and Associates​

Enemies: Galactic Alliance​

​

Samka's convoy had stopped to watch the fireworks. Now just within the Santaissa western city limits, they'd been in time to see it burn. First was the storm, knocking at least one civilian shuttle from the skies, and giving severe issues to the First Order's Star Destroyer hovering above the city. The Star Destroyer's response had been to burn the already ruined city once more. Taking aim at the defences set up on the hill tops, the Star Destroyer unleashed a barrage of laser fire but it was struggling, between the anti-aircraft fire, the storm and the unseen power of the Force, it was only a matter of time before the grand ship bit the dust.

"They're here somewhere," Samka Derith muttered to herself as she scanned the city, seeking out the Force wherever it dwelled. Individual positions and alignments couldn't be honed in on with such a large range but she could sense them both at work here. The Light and the Dark.

A cold voice drew her from consentration. The deep, metallic twang which could only belong to [member="Kyrel Ren"]. "Greetings Derith. I along with BE-183 have come to aid you with the hostages."

Sam spun on her heels to find her fellow Ren, accompanied by a Stormtrooper, had indeed managed to join her. Offering the pair a look of false shock, the teenage Ren shushed Kyrel with a finger on her lips before saying, "Hostages? I believe you may have misinterpreted the situation, my cybernetic computerate. These are our new friends, we're here to ensure their safety," she gestured to the tired gathering of men, women and children. The sick, the disabled. The young and the old. All caught somewhere they had no place in being. "If our enemy does anything rash then, I'm afraid we won't be able to guarantee their safety. A pity." She flashed the pair a devilish smile to signify her true meaning.

There was another creak from the Star Destroyer in the skies above as a particularly vicious streak of power from the Force Storm struck once more, gathering attention from nervous civilians and Stormtroopers in their group alike. "Curious isn't it?" Sam addressed Kyrel once more but never taking her eyes of the Storm swirling around their mighty capital ship. "The sheer amount of strength with the Dark Side required to muster up such a Force Storm, it's made from lightning, you know. At least partially anyway. And yet the Galactic Alliance pretend they fight the Dark where ever it lies. Here we are, seeing the proof of their hypocrisy in person."

Pausing for a moment to watch the Storm continue with morbid curiosity, Sam decided now was the time to make her move. Signalling for one of the Stormtroopers in her platoon to pass over their coms unit, she changed the frequency to an open channel addressed to any within Santaissa and the wider area.

"Hello there," the rich, higher class accent of the youthful teen would echo from every available avenue of communication nearby, playful in tone yet clearly an underlining mocking cruelty just beneath the surface. "You don't know me and hopefully you never will. I'm a member of the First Order's humanitarian efforts on this world, we were dealing with a village nearby when our forces were so rudely attacked. So I stand here, in a warzone, with my soldiers and civilians we're sworn to defend. All I want is to talk, I don't suppose any of you tried that before you began shooting at our aid workers but let's give it a go anyway, shall we? I have attached my coordinates and hope to see someone reasonable make an appearance soon. If you are unreasonable, I cannot guarantee the safety of my civilian escort. If you bring an army to a peaceful talk, I cannot guarantee the safety of my civilian escort. We shall remain here until somebody comes, oh so perilously close to an unfolding disaster." Samka's scarlet eyes flicker up to the struggling Star Destroyer and then rested on the huddled forms of the desperate civilians. "We shall all remain right here."

These Jedi and Alliance types were predictable, any time the apparently innocent were in danger they would come running. It should only be a matter of time now.

 

[Hansen]

[SIZE=10.5pt]FN-888 "Helden"
Ruins of Santaissa, Ironhound One[/SIZE]


Brick and Motor breaks with each tremor through the Earth, the hiss and cry of hydraulics pierces through the ambience of rain pattering against the ground. Flashes of lightning illuminate four grey legs prowling through the ruined streets of this once proud city. Standing behind two seated demons driving this great beast is its brain; One Stormtrooper surveying the ground through the command cupola periscope pulled down from the ceiling. "Contact, axis of advance. One kilometre, building with the collapsed steeple, steeple. Sniper." The gray monsters' head cranes up, lightning flashes again to illuminate the gargantuan hull and the proud First Order roundel burns like a source of power and zealotry for the dismounted First Order troops, a reminder of what they fought for; Their Homes and Supreme Leader Sieger.

Behind Joan, through the open airlock is belly of the beast where a whole Platoon of Stormtroopers sit and bash their weapons against the grated floor and are led in a choir by Hotshot, a Flametrooper. "Ahead of all our comrades, In fight we stand alone, yes we're alone!" There is a pause before a bellicose cry of some twenty Stormtroopers roaring like predators who have tasted the sweet nectar of sanguine. "So storm yes we do, deep in hostile lines!" The Officer gives the Order. "Fire!" And the great armoured hound fires a pair of lasers from its maw into the steeple of a temple. It explodes into slag and waters the street not with rain, but a brown toxic sludge oozing with organic matter.

"Locomotors forward." Again the great beast lumbers forward towards its' target, a nonchalant passionless command. Giving as much concern for the slain natives as the scum and mud on the soles of boots. "With engines that thunder, fast as lightning! Towards the knife-ears we drive, yes we drive." A wicked and toothy grin flashes on Helden's face, listening to the choir of bloodthirsty Troopers. "For Sieger we're dying its our sacred oath!" The choir goes on, floor shivering beneath the relentless beating of rifles against floor with the vehicle heaving fore and fro. Over the two demons seated in front of her she looks. "Traverse left and set our bearing for the Queen's Ziggurat, if it isn't rubble already we're going to rectify that.."

@[member='Max Fel'],@[member='Project X-2'], @[member='Natasi Fortan'], @[member='Michael Sardun'], @[member='Asharad Graush'], @[member='Siobhan Kerrigan'], @[member='Samka Derith'].

 

[Joza Perl]

Location: Just east of the Citadel of Dawn
Objective: Secure the Citadel
Allies: GA/Tygara, [member="Elpsis Elaris"], [member="Elliot Locke"]
Enemies: FO
Forces: One company of TKO Marines, a dozen snipers in Nexu Armor with standard sniper rifles

Having been planet side when battle erupted around Santaissa, Joza determined that this decent day had turned rightly bad. It had been a quick training exercise with Omega Pyre, but now she had to coordinate live combat with the First Order. At the very least, this would serve as an experience for the soldiers she’d brought along. After notifying [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"] that her request had been received, she made the next important call.

“…Alright, look, I’m sorry but something came up. So if you could—no, no. Just stay with him. Yes, I know the rate. Yes. Alright. I’m sorry. Alright. Okay? I need to go now. Alright, alright. Bye.” Terminating the connection, Joza huffed in an exaggerated manner. A violet haired Zeltron of similar age moved to her side, a curious lit in her eyes and an inquiring note to her voice. “Are you calling for reinforcements?”

“Reinforcements?” Sending a hand through the crown of her hair, a little laugh loosened from Joza’s throat. “No, no. I was negotiating with the babysitter. She doubles her hourly rate if I have to extend her time, so I might be broke after this.” A thoughtful look crossed her face. “But yeah, reinforcements aren’t a bad idea. Contact the boys on Kal'shebbol and see if you can’t get a few more companies on over. Open a line with the Silvers as well. Thanks; you’re a peach.” Patting the other woman on the shoulder with a heavy hand, Joza wandered off to go and check on their weapon cache. Mostly rifles, grenades and mines. Their unit was shortly to the east of Dawn, having settled into a tight basin between two peaks giving them time to rest and reload. The soldiers of the First Order weren’t her typical enemy, but their border sandwiched that of the Alliance and made her uncomfortable.

The mountains were a strategic point, and with the citadel secured they’d be able to use the range that bordered the path to Santaissa to their advantage. Scouts had alerted her to the presence of Stormtroopers and Alliance supporters near Dawn, as well as laying siege to capital. And something about a disappearing Star Destroyer? Joza shook her head. “Let’s move out to help keep the Citadel in allied hands.”

Phalanx reformed, the TKO fighters and Zeltron snipers moved over the rocky surface and towards The Citadel of Dawn.

Loadout:

Spoiler

-Standard lightsaber (x2)
-Sasori Medium Armor
-Ranger Shotgun
-AI Wrist Blaster
-VT Needle Disruptor
-Tactical Fighting Blade
-Glop Grenade (x4)
-Stun Pearl (x10)

 

[Siobhan Kerrigan]

Location: At the abandoned Kerrigan-Alcori estate, hills overlooking Santaissa
Objective: Liberate her home
Allies: [member="Nima Tann"], [member="Michael Sardun"], [member="Six-O"], [member="HK-36"], [member="Aeron Kreelan"], [member="Tempest"], [member="Kira Vaal"]
Enemies: [member="Asharad Graush"], [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"], First Order in general.


The First Order did not understand the Eldorai. Many would-be conquerors did not understand those they sought to conquer and subjugate. The Eldorai were a proud, xenophobic race. They'd lived in isolation for centuries. Officially, their religion dictated that only they were the Goddess Ashira's children and that all outsiders were demons, spawn of Ashira's traitorous daughter Illyria. It also mandated that those who fell fighting evildoers would ascend to paradise.


The Star Queens of old could have given the Sith a few lessons in cruelty, torment and manipulation. Once upon a time, when their backs were to the wall, they'd driven a sentient race to the brink of extinction in a holy war. Views had changed over the centuries and the Eldorai had adapted, being forced to realise that they were not alone in the galaxy and, indeed, not even top dogs. The Exodus had been a humbling experience, but they were still proud and distrustful.


By dropping its Star Destroyer, the First Order would not score a victory. Not even a Pyrrhic one. If it hoped to use a PR angle along the lines of 'we were retreating but the evil GA fired on us so we crashed and innocents died' that would not work. Firstly because the Eldorai would have tried to tear the battleship down too and secondly because Santaissa was a ghost town. Of all the cities on Kaeshana, it had been hit hardest by the asteroid collision, then affected various other disasters.


Thusly, if the First Order's commanders hoped to satisfy their wanton bloodlust by slaughtering millions of innocent civilians, they'd be very disappointed. The surviving Eldorai communities were small and scattered. It also put the lie to the First Order's claim that they'd only come to deliver 'humanitarian aid', which intersected with crucifixions. Dropping a SD was not the way to show you had good intentions. Propaganda was not a magic wand. If it tried to cause the deaths of innocents by dragging civilians into a conflict zone for use as human shields, the onus was on them.


No, the sight of an SD suddenly going on collision course, clearly intent on causing carnage, would not make the Eldorai suddenly love the FO and its unseen Supreme Leader. It would make them hate it even more. They were not so naive to fall for the honeyed words and promises of his minions just because they came bearing gifts. No the Eldorai would not flag or flail, not suddenly lay down their arms and embrace their would-be overlords.


Firemane had long been the Eldorai's ally. Siobhan Kerrigan and Tegaea Alcori had given them technology and weapons. Time and again, they'd defended it against threats both foreign and domestic. Sure, the Forsaken were bitter about what had transpired during the Exodus...but many still held them in high regard. It was like teaming up with an estranged family member. That the Eldorai had survived the cataclysm in the first place was due to Firemane's tireless efforts. As for the Kar'zun, the present Eldorai Queen Tirathana VII and Firemane had emancipated them and given them equal rights. Siobhan was an Eldorai in all but blood, and had been trained by Adril Tythorin, a great warrior of the elves.


If anything, the First Order's blatant act of aggression had succeeded in uniting the Eldorai. Dark Eldorai, loyalist Eldorai, Ashirans and Valorans and Illyrians, believers and atheists...all were united in their hatred for the foreign aggressor. It was a Holy War that would have to be prosecuted to the fullest. This was their rallying cry to take up arms and fight to the last. Even the most conniving Eldorai would not side with a foreign conqueror with whom they had nothing in common.


The beliefs of Jedi were alien to the Eldorai...but this applied even more so to the Ren and Sith. Besides, the First Order's Supreme Leader was a man! The Eldorai were very sexist, after all.


So Siobhan arose. Beneath her helmet, her expression was grim. There was fire in her eyes. Her body ached, her armour was battered and damaged, but that did not matter. Rage and righteous fury filled her when she saw the Star Destroyer was on collision course. It was in the nature of tyrants to commit such atrocities.


"I'm hitting this damn thing!" she yelled. One imagined that folks like HK would get the message and pass it on. So she pulled upon the tangled web of power that was the Force. Her immersion was such that it was painful. Her head hurt like hell, her nose bled and strain was evident on her face, but she persevered. She could draw upon the power of her comrades Sardun, Aeron, Nima and Tempest, using it to fuel herself. She was power, she was wrath and retribution.


Power flowed through her, then the Force was unleashed. Her bruised hands moved, gesturing to the heavens as she drew upon her telekinetic willpower to seize the falling warship. Starkiller had redirected a falling Star Destroyer - alone. Siobhan, while weakened, was not alone. Several Masters of the Force stood by her side. Different in beliefs, but united by one cause.


With all her might, she sought to pull the Star Destroyer and throw it towards the First Order that had infested the broken shell of Santaissa and even now desecreated the ruins of the White Palace and Citadel. Coincidentally, the First Order had stationed a good portion of its army in the city.

 

[Talyn Krane]

Objective: Destroy First Order fleet, establish Remnant as dominant Imperials.
Allies: The Imperial Remnant, Galactic Alliance, [member="Tanomas Graf"], [member="Desmond C'artyom"]
Enemies: The First Order, [member="Darth Prazutis"]

The Remnant fleet had been instructed to hang back, allowing the two sides to tire one another before swooping in for the kill.

Almost immediately, as the old adage predicted, that plan was shot all to hell. A swarm of enemy craft descended on the fleet, all making a beeline for the Avenger. Outwardly, Talyn showed no alarm. Inwardly she swore to every hell she could imagine. Some agent or ally of the First Order had been waiting for them, and they had swooped in to cut the head from the fleet's shoulders. In the midst of the cloud of TIE variants, Spiral-class landing ships had forced their way through the Avenger's shields to disgorge borders into its durasteel halls.

That was bad news. If the command ship fell, it was not just the battle that would be lost. Without Tanomas Graf, the Remnant would crumble to dust and ashes. Wild visions briefly danced through her head of bombarding the assault shuttles, depressurizing the Avenger's outer decks to kill the borders and save its precious innards before any saboteurs could reach them, but causing the command ship to bleed any further would only cause demoralization, confusion, and reduced combat effectiveness. The Imperial Knights would need to defend the Grand Admiral.

While the Triumvir was occupied with such matters, it fell to Talyn to rally the fleet. She would lead by example.

"Take us full ahead, Commander Kayl," she ordered. "Move us into bombardment range of the closest Vindicator-class vessel and begin plotting targeting solutions." Kayl saluted crisply, then turned to bark orders to the bridge crew. Everyone obeyed with the swiftness of a well-oiled machine. There was no shouting, so scrambling, no obvious tension. They had drilled for such a situation for years, and been in no small number of real engagements. So long as their captain remained calm and able, they would follow her with the Imperial war machine's signature precision.

The small enemy fleet had been laid almost entirely bare of fighter defenses while the TIE complement escorted the Spiral-class shuttles in, leaving the Imperial fleet free to approach bombardment range without fear - and to gain local control of the skies. "Launch both squadrons," Talyn commanded. "Orders are to destroy any remaining fighter screens and intercept any enemy ships that attempt to retreat and protect the carriers." The pilots had been on standby, waiting in the cockpits of their fighters, and at her command they screamed out to fill the void.

"We are coming within range, Sir," Commander Kayl reported. "Shall I charge our ion batteries?" But Talyn only smiled as new information came onto her readouts. "No, Commander. We won't need to." Because at that moment the Remnant's own trap was sprung as Purge Squadron, their advance force, returned to strike the enemy vessels from behind. "Move us into starboard broadside position and prepare to fire on my mark." Thrusters heaving, the Anarchy's Doom turned on its axis, putting its starboard flank toward the enemy carrier and its nose toward the rest of the enemy vessels.

Purge Squadron's ion bombs and HVC guns would soon render the enemy's shields irrelevant. Talyn gazed at her sensor screen with admiration; the skill of those pilots was beautiful and terrible to behold. C'artyom would receive a medal for this reversal of fortune, she vowed. "Mark," she said, and the gunnery crews let loose. The Doom's starboard side lit up with bursts of green and blue, a full broadside of five quad turbolaser batteries, seven long-range turbolasers, and twelve concussion missile launchers pounding away at the carrier Purge Squadron had weakened.

Even in this moment, exploiting an overextension by the enemy and a surprise attack by her own side, Talyn was not complacent. "Ensure that point defense systems are online and fully operational," she ordered, "and plot targeting solutions for the forward guns. Our fighters will screen the port flank from any enemy attack." With the opening she had blazed, other vessels of the Imperial Fleet were now free to engage from the zone of safety behind her ship, firing indiscriminately into the surrounded carriers.

Between the ion bombs, the turbolaser batteries, and the missile blasts, surely the vulnerable Vindicators could not hold out for long.

• ACTIONS:
• Moved the Victory IV-class Star Destroyer Anarchy's Doom into range to flank one of Darth Prazutis's carriers with Purge Squadron
• Launched 2 TIE squadrons to protect the port side and intercept any enemy ships retreating from the direction of the Avenger
• Opened fire with a full starboard broadside of turbolasers and concussion missiles on the carrier flanked by Purge Squadron
• Positioned the Anarchy's Doom in the path of any return fire, allowing other Remnant ships to advance freely behind it

 

[Nate Phantoms]

Location: Santaissa,The Citadel of Dawn
Objective: Make it out the Temple and help the 'Grunts'...Annihilate.
Allies: [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"], [member="HK-36"], [member="Tempest"], [member="Aeron Kreelan"], [member="Michael Sardun"], [member="Sed Frieder"], [member="Causstik Rahn"], [member="Kira Vaal"], [member="HK-36"], [member="Joza Perl"]
Enemies: The FO and any who stand in the way. (Unfortunately, that includes [member="Irajah Ven"]...and apparently [member="Samka Derith"] too )


After being released out into the chaos, he felt adrenaline course through his veins, an explosion going off beside him, debris pouring down around him as a trooper beside him went flying from the blast.

"There! Alliance fighte-" Silenced by Nate's rifle, the Lieutenant slid forward a few inches after he hit the floor. The four other Stormtroopers met their fate immediately after, his rounds tearing through their armor. Steeping down the steps, he was greeted with a barrage of blaster fire, the majority of it skimming over his armor, but a few manged to hit home, smoking holes the only sign he had been hit.

The dark metal of his rifle glinted in the dim light as he put another Stormtrooper down, her scream of pain ringing out. Steeping over a fallen demolitions team, the familiar scream of a TIE fighter drew closer, the ground around him erupting. Ducking, he pried a launcher from a fallen solider, taking aim. "Sorry my friend, but your sacrifice will save countless more." As the Pilot turned around for another run, he lined up the target, and watched, slightly impressed with the large weapon, the cockpit of the shuttle crashing down a few meters away, burning brightly. "I need to get myself one of these things..."

Smiling to himself, he let the launcher fall as a squad of Stormtroopers came over the bank in front of him, most armed with FWMB-10 repeating blasters, all training the huge weapons directly on him. Damn... why does this always happen to me? Igniting his saber staff, he searched for cover, finding none, he began to deflect the onslaught of fire. Managing to reflect a few of the blasts, he bounded up the hill, completely sending the squad leader sprawling with a round house kick. "Get Him!" As the blasts whizzed past, slashed a trooper across the chest, before severing another's head from his shoulders.

After reclaiming his rifle, he heard explosions behind him, and the radio chatter silenced, not a good sign. "Dammit man..." Jumping over the many corpses, his head popped up over the trench, seeing the troops at the Temple get mowed down one by one, only a few left. Seeing this as an opportunity to try something, he rushed forward.

Sidestepping a Riot Control Trooper, he ignited his saber against the man's chest, not missing a pace. Sliding to a stop, he looked around, trying to find some sign of... there. Pipes that were exposed from the explosions leaked profusely, the water soon creating a small pond. Calling forth the water, he focused on bringing even more water out from under neath the temple, seeking to flush out the First Order Installments to give the Alliance troops time to recuperate to hold the position. Channeling his anger, he felt the ground rumble around him, water exploding behind him, a enormous dark wave.

The show of power took great amounts of strength and focus, but he didn't let it bother him, even though his legs nearly gave out from sustaining the wave. But it was only for a few moments before the wave came crashing down on the heads of the Stormtroopers, effectively washing any thing and one that wasn't nailed down.

"Huh... *cough* I should do that... more often." Pushing him self off the ground, he made his way up to the temple, helping the troops there reinforce themselves. Little did he know, a close friend and a hella TKO marines were en route to the same temple he was currently defending.

 

[Six-O]

Location: Santaissa
Objective: Skirmish, Harass, Exterminate
Allies: [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"], [member="HK-36"], [member="Tempest"], [member="Aeron Kreelan"], [member="Michael Sardun"], [member="Sed Frieder"], [member="Causstik Rahn"]. [member="Kira Vaal"]
Enemies: [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"], [member="Asharad Graush"], [member="Pharazon Draken"], First Order
Equipment: MKIII-Heavy Bolter, Gorgon Web Rifle, Magnetic Reaper, 6 Eater Grenades, On-Board Weapons Systems
Forces: 28 Eldorai Guerilla Fighters

On the subject of the passage of time, not that Six-O, in any way knew that time was altered for [member="Asharad Graush"]! But since the subject came up, the Droid felt he had plenty of time to facilitate and cogitate about a few things streaming through his processors. So many people, in his experience, seemed to be baffled by the sheer will of hate that this machine clutched. [member="HK-36"] seemed especially alarmed at times, the brief times they had been in contact, anyway.

No one seemed to comprehend his role as the victim in these wanton gambits of unbridled intensity. His original programming was that of a G0-T0, regrettably. His perception of time was set up to calculate a thousand equations to such a degree and at such expeditious interval that by the time an eye was blinked or affricate uttered, he had been in your company for aeon.

What was larger than infinity, and longer than eternity? A Philosopher might ask.

Every second,

of every day,

that Six-O lived.

Take this Sith right here quite alee of his current position. Six-O did not know him, but he already abhorred the very spectacle of him. In the time between seconds the Droid had calculated every possible happen upon that could ever possibly have been conceived.

What if he turned right? What if he turned left? Did he fight as a southpaw, or was he orthodox? Is he slow? Is he fast? How much does he weigh? What if he jumps? Where will he land?

Gotta calculate that now, what if he landed there, or there. What if he landed right in front of me. What if he landed behind. What if he landed next to me? What if he landed in fire? Yes I will burn him with fire. Burn all Sith with fire. Bathe in the smoke of their cooking flesh.

Well what if he runs in that building? Ok, but what if he ran in that one? How would I proceed?

Do I throw the grenade? Should I continue shooting? What if I stop shooting? What if I hold the grenade and continue shooting with one arm? Maybe I should throw the grenade and shoot it in the sky.

But which part of the sky should I shoot it in?

Should I shoot it right above him? Maybe I should shoot it half way between us so he runs through it. Maybe I should roll the grenade. Maybe I should pretend to throw the grenade but kick the fire barrel. So I can burn him with the fire. I like burning them with fire.

But wait, now he is moving all of the firing barrels trying to take my light.

But I'm a droid, I don't need light. That's why I hate the simple mind of this simian primates that should have never evolved in the first place.

So now I gotta think, do I use the night vision? But what if he shoots lightning then I can't see. But what if I use Thermals? But then he'd be lost entirely because throwing fire barrels doesn't remove ambient heat. What if I use Short Wave Infrared? What about a blue filter? Maybe I should up the reds, or the purples or the orange. Maybe I should make it like a variegated swirl of all colors.

But also?

What's he look like in Stormtrooper Armor? What would he look like fat? What if he was in Stormtrooper Armor and morbidly obese? I better run a parameter correction to simulate his walking speed so I can better track his movement.

Well now I have to do that for all of his movement.

Change his height, change his build. Change his weapon.

Ponder the structure of his fleshy facial structure.

I miss @Vrag. I remember Vrag, she knew how to kill. What if he was the son of Vrag? It'd be the greatest unveil since Lord Vader and the Skywalker. Six-O hadn't been there, but he'd met an out of work, down on his luck security agent that had witnessed the event on security holo. Everyone had a great laugh about it. Six-O didn't understand why, but he remembered everyone there, what they were drinking, eating, wearing, saying and going. Now he had to calculate them in to the equation.

And that's why Six-O hated everyone.

But now that that second is over, it was time to go back to work. Now the funny thing really was, that repressing fire didn't have to be a brief shower of bitter bites that sailed around aimlessly. That's not what this had been about at all. So as the Sith expended energy worrying himself with burn barrels, fear sense and the inevitable shield, that Six-O had already premeditated would happen.

Since, almost every Force-User pulled from the same few tricks when at disadvantage of range.

Six-O had bombarded his attack accordingly. Now, his ammunition was no simple shrug of the shoulder and shred of the cape. This was some heavy stuff. With a casualty radius that exceeded the two meters of circumference that the Sith Lord allotted. Six shots that runwayed left to right. Five meter radius, with an additional suffrage zone of fifteen.

While he may have held on to the Force as his saving shield. It surely brought him to extend more power than he had initially hoped in the first six seconds of battle. With his speed perception and lurking tendrils of fear feeding sensor arrays and all. But Six-O was no new Droid. He knew this Sith Lord undoubtedly had been around the block more than once. Otherwise he would not be here now. Not from a life that begets such cruelty and knows such War.

So as his Soldiers, darting ever further in opposite directions. Ducking blockages, jumping barricades and seeking the most advantageous pleuron they could acquire.

A great rumble began to quake the dim bivouac. Six-O did not need to fire again at this interval, for the riptide of concussion that [member="Asharad Graush"] stood vigil through, his environment did not. Shrapnel mutilated and lacerated the aged shanty-square. Jarring trauma of detonation set more than 49 feet make-shift ceiling aloft, inviting in the rain that rattled metal from above, collapsing over the Sith Knight as the building, the very one he had chose to fling himself forward from began to groan with great anger as a great portion of it's side began to slide way and crumble towards [member="Asharad Graush"].

The Droid was ready for attack. His sensors monitoring the situation close.

Maybe I will hold a Grenade.

At that he plucked one from belt, gun at the ready. Men swarming in to position just now.

 

[Kresh Vanukar]

[member="Carlyle Rausgeber"]

The Star Destroyer crashed into the ground, hard. The ground trembled for several seconds after the gargantuan ship collided with the earth. Besides the storm, there was no logical reason that such an advanced and expensive piece of technology would crash. The attack had already been hard, but the destruction of the Star Destroyer demoralised Kresh. Such a catastrophic loss would not be good for the men's morale. Kresh had lost several walkers already and he had witnessed so many dead, but for what?

He was so confused to why the attack happened in the first place. The entire operation on the planet was meant to be humanitarian. Allies had killed people, that was undeniable, but they were known criminals and had preyed enough on the civilians on the planet, they needed to be removed.

Then the Star Destroyer exploded at the base of the mountains. At least the losses of the First Order would be minimal, considering the ship was moving towards enemy lines before the crash. It still stung, knowing that the crew of that Star Destroyer are all dead. He hoped the enemy had been hurt as much as he did from that impact.

 

[RIP Carlyle Rausgeber]

Post: VII
Objective: Brace for Impact.

The Wraths' structure physically creaked as it tried to turn around. The mysterious force pulling the ship was making things difficult, as was the storm swirling around it. "Have you shut off safety protocols?" Guderian asked, he now had a glass of Corellian scotch in his hand. The rest of the bridge crew held one.

"Aye sir," The Chief Engineer replied, biting his lower lip, "We'll be ready, when you are."

"Good," The Captain replied, he reached to a nearby console, and poured the man a glass. "You've earned it son." He said, a wry smile creeping on his face.

The engineer nodded, "To the First Order!" He raised his glass, before downing it.

The others did the same, "It's been an honour serving Captain." The Comms technician replied. Ranulph wrapped his arms around the young technician.

"Helmsman, full power to engines! We'll take this bastards to the void with us!"

"Aye aye captain!" The Helmsman replied.

The Wrath now turned through the clouds, its engines glowing deep blue. The Force only increased momentum, and the star destroyer hit the ground with a huge crash. It had hit the middle of the mountains, near where the battle was being fought and right on the road to the citadel. . The citadel stood in the distance almost a witness to the death of the giant. The ground shook violently, and the ship rested. There was a brief respite, before the explosion hit. The already fragile hypermatter reactor ruptured unleashing a massive explosion. Those who were lucky, were annihilated in the blast. The unlucky were caught in the rain of shrapnel and debris.

[member="Tempest"] | [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"] | @Micheal Sardun | [member="Rolf Amsel"] |@Anyone who'd be near the blast.