Invasion Darkness Falls // NIO Invasion of TSE held Bastion

[Taeli Raaf]

Stormvale
Former Residence of Darth Arcanix and Fiolette Raaf
​

Equipment: Lightsabers in signature, stylized Medhir armor
Objective: Saying goodbye to the house, prepare to join the fray
Allies: TSE
Enemies: NIO, GA, directly engaging Mishel Kryze

She really hated giving this place up, she mused, frown etched on her face even as she could hear the sounds of battle echoing and thudding from the palace complex and Fortress Carnifex. Stormvale had really been the first place she had called home, actually her home, since she left Lorrd. Quarters in her ship, at her company complex on Erilnar, at the Jedi temples... they had been temporary or were meant to be for stay overs, not to raise a family in. The gardens had been absolutely wonderful for the girls, their favorite playing spot, and as much as Genesia was closer to home now, it didn't offer the same surroundings.

Standing in the middle of what had been her study, empty of all equipment, books, and everything else weeks ago... before the New Imperial Order made their final push up the Braxant Run. Dromund Kaas was already playing host to most of their government functions now, and Taeli had already put her agents on the hunt for an apartment she could use while visiting the Sith world for official business. The rest of her things were at Genesia or one of her other hidden offices and labs and...

"My Lady, they're pushing," the voice of General Tarkin spoke crisply over her earpiece. The 173rd Legion was on standby, prepping for a counter-offensive into the palace district once the word was given. Tarkin and the men and women of the legion were looking for some payback for Mygeeto... and they would get their fill by day's end. The Force was drowning in the darkness, with anger, hate, fear, pain... all it providing such wonderful power to draw upon at a moment's notice.

She also felt the movement of one she thought gone in the gardens, her frown deepening.

"Mobilize. I will be joining you shortly," she responded. "I have one last thing to do here." With a roll of her shoulders, she started making her way down to the main foyer. It was only proper manners to greet uninvited guests at the front door.

 

[Daedalos Solidor]

O B J E C T I V E | Ravelin
L O C A T I O N | Center for Progress
T A G S | Open, talk or fight with me.
T H E M E | Here.
G E A R | Lightsaber, armor, pistol, necklace.

​

In front of him was the biggest, baddest and loudest gamorrean he ever saw in his entire life. They called him ‘Blotho the Mighty’ and Daedalos could figure why he was given such honor by the other clans, they said he was a hero that saved many gamorreans from enslavement and fled with them to find safe haven in the New Imperial Order. Right now, he was squealing loudly, almost to the point where his ears hurt with the sound of his voice.

“I will not sit quietly and let those humans take the upper hand! They are weaklings and I have no respect for weaklings.” He turned his head to look at the rodisar, Mesosog was quiet and seemed to have little desire in entering an argument with the Major, almost as if he left that to the prince to decide, but all of the sudden the blue lizard sighted while his fingers they drummed against the edge of the tank that his hand was resting.

“All right, major. You can take the vanguard and storm front doors, we will the stormtroopers to join behind you.”, Mesosog said looking at Daedalos to see if he agreed with him and all Fredo did was nod harshly with his head. "Damn pigs...", Mesosog growled almost without being heard as Blotho turned his back.

“For glory!”, Blotho squealed once again, almost piercing Daedalos's eardrums with the sound of his voice to the point that he bowed his face in an uncomfortable expression. The gamorrean left to squeal at his boars and the other troops and Fredo leaned his head towards Mesosog.

“Why did you agree with him? We could have sent the droids to take the lead in the attack.”, the rodisar growled towards Blotho before turning his head back to the prince.
“Would you like to explain this matter to Blotho the Mighty, my prince?”, the elzeri immediately shook his head, rejecting the general's offer. Just the thought of getting into that discussion with the porcine creature made his ears hurt and his knees shake, there was something terrifying about Blotho's stance, not only his aura of years that served with the Sith as his huge lightsaber soon showed, but a confidence so resolute that it shook everyone around him. “Let Blotho have his glory. Those boars believe that dying in battle is required for them to enter their glorious paradise.”
He turned his head to watch Blotho, squealing non-stop to the gamorrean troops around him and soon he could notice Leliana making a condescending sound while sitting on his shoulder.

"How curious," she stated and Daedalos turned her head so that she could explain herself, but her eyes had that 'how obvious it is' look branded in them. "What? You don't speak gamorrese?" She knew that no, Daedalos spoke only galactic basic at the insistence of his tutors, until he was twenty he did not speak a word of anything other than high elzaar. "I will translate this to you, but look at them and you will understand." Fredo turned his head to look, narrowing his eyes and watching the creature swing its arms upwards. The fairy translated the monstrous warrior in a low, almost comical voice.

"We are all gonna die… the only question is when. This is as good a place as any to take your first steps to heaven. The only question is how you leave, do you want it on your feet or on your fuck**ing knees begging! I ain’t much for begging, nobody ever gave me nothing, so I say fu**k those Siths let’s kill them!”, Leliana smiled after he finished his speech and his boars roared in perfect sync in a glorious song.
“Charming.”, Fredo said with the back of his mouth smiling and felt the small fist of Leliana hitting against his neck.

“Don’t get cocky, Fredo. They are very honorable and proud.”, Daedalos stopped smiling and watched calmly as Blotho divided his troops. The stormtroopers on the back, his front line made of energy shields and laser lances as they marched slowly towards those huge doors owned by the Center of Progress. Blotho raised his lightsaber high in the sky and slowly brought it down, squealing for his troops to move. Five hundred humans fighting alongside two thousand gamorrean, that was quite the sight.

As they slowly marched towards the doors of the Center, soldiers arose from inside, wielding rifles and unleashing hell on its forces. Fredo watched in terror as stormtroopers and shield-boars fell to the ground dead, the troopers replied by opening fire and so did the gamorrean with their laser lances. That hellish storm continued for a long time, their forces trying to get closer to the center, while its defenders pushed them back with their superior firepower. It was only when the tank came out of their doors that both Daedalos and Mesosog looked astonished.
“Major! Fall back immediately!”, Mesosog shouted at the speaker of his command chair on the tank. In response, Blotho squealed at him, something that even Daedalos that didn’t speak the language knew it was too dirty for him allowing Leliana to translate it. The large gamorrean started to run, with lightsaber in hand as the remaining gamorrean did the same, the stormtroopers joined them shortly afterwards and against all odds, perhaps due to their ferocity, the enemy started to flinch. The boars wielded axes with such perfection that hardly a single limb stayed in place as they cut the Sith troops, blood rained everywhere.

But they did it so not without losses, many boars died trying to get there and Blotho showed both the general and the prince why he was called ‘The Mighty’ as he jumped on top of the tank, cutting down every smaller gun with its laser sword and with a single blow he cut the cannon in half. Forcing the ones inside to try and leave the vehicle, only to discover Blotho waiting for them. The gamorrean first bit off the first troopers head, splashing his blood all over his face before tossing him aside and jumping inside, killing all the others. The remaining Sith troops that weren’t engaging them fled inside the Center of Progress like flies, all the others that stayed behind and didn’t surrender were killed on sight by the gamorreans.
The survivors were placed in chains and added to a small group.

“Blotho the Mighty.”, Daedalos muttered to no one in particular. His small elf companion nodded agreeing with him, but Mesosog didn’t seem to share that triumph.

“Blotho just lost one hundred man and nearly two hundred soldiers trying to take that entrance.”, Mesosog slammed his claws on the tank but his voice was well-mannered. “And for what? Five hundred Sith troopers killed, I suppose little more than a hundred in chains? And who knows how many inside?”

“That’s Blotho the Mighty. One hell of a boar.” Daedalos said as jest towards the rodisar, only to find he had little sense of humor in him. Leliana gave Fredo a honest smile before the tank started to move closer to the entrance, with Mesosog howling to the gamorreans to stop tormenting the troops. When they got close, they noticed the gamorrean using their batons to shock some troopers while others were being kicked by the boars.

“They surrendered, enough of that already!”, the boars stopped and Mesosog turned to the stormtroopers. “Tell your captain to take these prisoners back to the Command Crown. How many casualties in your group?” Another soldier approached the one they called the captain.
“110 man were killed, sir. At least twenty seven more were injured.”, Mesosog started to run numbers in his head, probably trying to figure out what to do with what he would refer to as ‘burdens’ on his remaining forces. Daedalos decided to intervene.

“Captain. You may take the injured alongside the prisoners back to the Command Crown, move the remaining of your forces back with them, secure the prisoners to the holding cells so they will be moved to my sister’s ship. This battalion with us will be enough.”, the captain first looked at Mesosog and the rodiar made a rude nod with his head towards the human, that slammed his palm on his helmet and shouted.

“Sir, yes, sir.”, Daedalos turned to face Mesosog as he was considering his options on how to proceed with invading the center of progress.
“Any suggestions on how to proceed, general?”, Leliana asked on his shoulder. "Or would you like to ask Blotho about that?", her tone made the rodisar growl towards the fairy for a moment, but he was sure to answer her with a calm tone.

“I may have a few ideas, little one.”, the general muttered without knowing how much it hurt her ego to be called anything that resembled the word 'small'. “No more boars for today. We shall leave this area under the protection of the Mighty Boars, let them search the area for the remaining Sith troops, Blotho and our soldiers will take care of this entrance.”

“So we send the droids inside?”, Daedalos asked a bit amazed how simple his strategy seemed to be in his head.
“Precisely.”, Mesosog replied with a devious smile in his blue lips.

 

[FN-999]

LOCATION: FORTRESS CARNIFEX | IMPERIAL BOULEVARD
ALLIES IN VICINITY: NIO | Caulder Dune | Agrippa | Ravraa Vyshraal
ENEMIES IN VICINITY: TSE | Ingrid L'lerim | AMCO
EQUIPMENT: IN SIGNATURE + LS-1 Light Sniper Rifle + SBR-60x Particle Rifle

FN AND THE TEN - 10/11

Sword raised, FN-999 entered the hole in the wall.

On the other side was a massive causeway.
​

It seemed to extend for kilometers on end, with the vast bulk of the palatial complex on the other side. Massive marble pillars and shrines lined the edges of the causeway, looming far over the heads of FN-999 and the small group of troopers in the 19th who had caught up with him. For a moment, the group was stunned into silence. Even in an active warzone, the beauty and grandeur of the Sith structures caught the eye of every trooper on the causeway. However, they could not afford to be distracted. They were in the nest of the enemy's most powerful officials, and their battle was far from over.

Just as FN-999 and the ten battered troopers of the 19th who had followed their captain through the breach the company had created began to raise their guard once more, they heard numerous footsteps. It seemed as if they had been detected.

Their combat intuition taking over, the eleven troopers took cover behind some of the larger pillars and monuments, making them nearly invisible unless viewed from the side or behind. Still, the footsteps approached. As they became louder, the troopers noticed the creaking of mechanical parts. FN-999 dared to peek around the corner of the monument he hid behind, and noticed his adversaries. Three war droids of unknown design.

He ran a quick visual analysis - the droids seemed to be heavily armed, with what appeared to be laser cannons on each of their arms. A deflector shield enveloped the droids, with no obvious weak spots. They were slightly taller and larger than a typical trooper, and seemed to be heavily armored, even on the joints.

[Does anyone have ion weapons?] called out FN-999 in a whisper on his comms to the ten troopers with him.

[No.] or [I used them all up earlier.] was the universal reply.

[Fine, then distract those droids for me with whatever you have.] continued FN-999. [I'll run them through myself.]

Once the three war droids were meters away from the monuments which the troopers hid behind, the unit took action.

The ten troopers of the 19th Assault Company unleashed numerous concentrated bursts of fire, battle rifles and machine guns pumping a constant flow of plasma towards the droids. However, the bolts slammed harmlessly into the shields of the droids, which were more durable than expected. Then, the droids returned fire of their own. Their heavy laser cannons tore through the marble of the monuments, with troopers struggling to make rapid evasive action. One stormtrooper had the misfortune of being directly struck by a laser cannon bolt - he instantly exploded into a pile of steel and flesh. But before the droids could fire another salvo, a previously hidden variable revealed itself.

FN-999 lunged forwards, thrusting Iustitia horizontally into the torso of the droid. Its powerful electric current bypassed its shielding and slammed into its plating, leaving a large dent in its frame. Seconds later, with a stream of electricity flowing into it, the droid shorted out. The second droid wasn't able to turn and retaliate in time, and it was decapitated via the slicing of its smaller neck plate. The third droid fired two bolts - FN-999 rolled to the side, the heat of the resulting explosions coursing through his back. With a swift uppercut, the captain sliced one of the droid's arms off right as it was about to fire. The resulting explosion sent FN-999 rolling backwards and turned the droid into a pile of scrap metal.

FN-999 rose up, catching his breath. His armor was mostly intact and he had no severe injuries - he was still in good fighting form. With the droids out of the way, the ten troopers continued their approach, more vigilant than before.

19TH ASSAULT COMPANY MAIN - 125/200
LOCATION - "The Strip" OUTSIDE FORTRESS CARNIFEX
LT. FN-274 "Mad Gunner"
​

"Keep up the charge, push so we can join our captain at the tip of the spear!" called out FN-274 to the platoon under his command.

When Nines had raised his blade and entered the inner sanctum of the fortress ahead, FN-274 had felt a strong desire to follow his old friend in pursuit of victory. However, the brief opening that FN-999 and his frontline troopers had made had been sealed by Sith reinforcements, and the battle continued to rage onward.

The heavy machine gun positions of the 19th held strong, though sniper fire was rapidly rising in the risk of threats to the 19th. While firing the machine gun tripods, even with their light shields, a trooper was vulnerable to sniper fire from their flanks. The Sith troopers had quickly learned this, and gunners had begun to fall at an alarming pace, only for their corpse to be thrown aside as another trooper took their place. Taking such a suicidal position was a difficult choice for many - death was almost certain, even if it was instant and painless. Still, the machine gun emplacements were essential to prevent the Sith infantry from rushing out and mounting a counteroffensive. Without the heavy weaponry, it would be much more difficult to pin them down.

About three meters to FN-274's left, a machine gunner's head was blasted apart by a sniper rifle bullet. It seemed as if it was the lieutenant's turn to take the suicidal position. For a moment, he hesitated. If he were to perish here, he would be unable to live to carry out the New Imperial Order's righteous crusade on other worlds. But more importantly, he would be unable to see justice achieved for his captain, for all the suffering that he had been through in his early life. Then, he remembered. Nines valued bravery, even in the face of absolute defeat or certain doom. If he backed out now, he would be better off dead than seeing the look on the face of his captain and longtime friend. He would not betray his order, his company, or his captain.

FN-274 pushed the previous gunner's corpse aside and took control of the machine gun emplacement.

​

 

[DK-03]

Location: Near Fortress Carnifex
Objective: Stop Ra's.

DK-03 was in a haze.

Something had gone terribly wrong.

How was he back in the air?

He had landed and was in a fight with a superior Sith enemy only moments before.

Why did he feel like he was falling?

There was no ground below, this time.

He was just falling.

And falling.

Like there was no escape.

MY FRIEND.

My lover.​

The Taun-Taun that had joined the New Imperial Order as DK-03's closest ally, next to the pilot that the Darktrooper had left for dead. Finally, in this void of falling, DK had someone else to turn to. Perhaps they could help each other escape?

Or perhaps, this was what death felt like.

And in DK-03's last moments, in his moment of need, of reflection - this is who he saw last.

A friend, a confidant.

Someone he could hold close.

Yeah.

This was probably death.

Or maybe DK-03 was going insane again.

The doctors had warned him this was possible, after the months of experimentation, exposure to Hyperspace Madness, the surgeries on his brain.

The idea that a "perfect" soldier could be created with "super sanity", they said.

Super sane.

That's what they told the Darktrooper he would become.

DK blinked.

"Would you like some jawa juice?" asked the Taun-taun.


"You died," responded the Darktrooper.


"We all die, DK. We all have a card to punch, a time to leave, a date of expiration.

It's not up to us to choose when, or how.

Or even why - sometimes, it just is. As I am, as you are now - it just is."

"I want to wake up."

"You want some jawa juice? Rest now, DK."

"I WANT

TO

WAKE

UP."

DK-03 threw off the soldiers, having had been catapulted into a troops and thrown around by the Sith. He stood up now, aiming all of his miniguns at the Sith and firing.

"I WANT TO WAKE UPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP"


DK-03 was finally woke.

Ra's​

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Archer //:
//: Can you see right through me? //:
//: Imperial Capital Complex //:
//: Loske Treicolt //:​

When you were still on your side
You can't keep helping them.
What are you doing?
You can come back…
...before it's too late…​

"Locke?" Allyson turned her head quickly as she regained composure and stared at the Legionnaire she was standing with. The trooper shook his hand, gesturing towards the small electric panel embedded into the stone of the complex's wall. "Locke, is it finished?" He repeated to her, his frustration growing. The man was annoyed that he was working with a former Jedi and had been a spy that abandoned the Alliance over the Lord Inquisitor. At first, the Legionnaire had heard the tale and praised the intelligence unit for doing their job in catching a Jedi spy, protecting their nation from the bastards that threatened their Empire. Yet, as time continued and this traitor found herself in their ranks, helping them, and having access to things a traitor should never have. The once-proud Legionnaire cursed the Sith. ​

Thankful for the thick visor that the Legionnaire armor came with, the Corellian could not see his scowl and disgust with his assignment to work with her. Unlucky for the Legionnaire, Allyson already knew he had planned to betray her after they were finished. "Everything looks solid and should broadcast to the Empire forces the necessary information on Bastion that they need to know," Allyson spoke, not giving away her knowledge of the man's hidden plot. She wondered if this was by someone's order or if he was doing it because of his own convictions. It didn't matter; she would leave this spot with or without him. "Perfect" He sputtered and shut the panel, then stood and slung his blaster forward. Holding it in a non-aggressive way against his chest, he waited for the traitor to move. ​

"Are you meeting up with the rest of the squad now? At least pass on the information?" She looked at him and questioned. It was odd he wasn't trying to broadcast right away that the network was finished being set up with the information she had pulled. "Yes, but my radio is acting up - maybe there's some interference set up from the Imperial dogs." He forced a laugh, trying to keep things casual between them. Alerting the Jedi would only ruin his chance at killing her and collecting her bounty. Turning her dead body over to the New Imperials would garner not only their price but the Alliance's price. He could finally quit. All that needed to happen was the slaughter of a traitor. ​

Allyson nodded, she played off his suspicious nature and turned her back. It was his chance, but with hesitation, a hefty price would be paid by the selfish Legionnaire. The blaster rifle rose, taking aim at the back of the Corellian. The Force brushed against them both, as the gun instantly threw malfunction codes as it stalled in his hand. The knowledge that Taeli Raaf had bestowed on the Technomancer only made her stronger within the Force. A blaster rifle was a child's play to her as she quickly forced the electromagnetic currents that held the power cell of the weapon to shift, changing, and making the energy unusable. ​

The rapid clicking of the trigger continued as he whimpered, trying to understand what had just happened in the milliseconds that it took him to raise the weapon. Sighing, Allyson turned on her heels, facing the Legionnaire as he stumbled backward. "Why?" A step forward, the sound of the crackling blue ion blade shifted on. Static danced along the light sword's length, the handle pressed against her palm and finding support against her wrist. "Traitor! Traitors deserve to die! Filthy Scum Jedi!" He shouted as he scrambled backward, drawing his pistol, raising it to level with her forehead. ​

A head shot would end it all, he would still be able to collect the bounty. Before he could pull the trigger, the sudden burning sensation started around his forearm. His mind told his hand to pull the trigger, but nothing happened. Reality slowed, he watched as his hand fell with the blaster still gripped tightly. His face twisted in horror as the same burn entered his chest, thrusting him back to the complex's concrete. Allyson pulled the blade back, shutting it down, clipping it to her side, and knelt beside him. "I'm not a traitor." She stood and walked over towards the command box and pressed her hand against it, energy currents suddenly stopped and began to malfunction. The network box would die, leaving a blind spot in the complex. ​

Allyson felt something move in the Force; the sudden floral scent that she had come to recognize with the bond she shared with a certain Kiffar bubbled up. Hands found their way into her leather jacket pockets as she sighed softly. The pair frequently crashed into each other, over and over again - there was no escaping the determination of Loske Matson. The others had given up on her, she continued to fight and search for the wayward Corellian. ​

She searched for another, she hoped to feel the Echani Jedi looming over Bastion, but through their bond, she felt her not as close as Loske. The woman held onto her words, she wasn't going to endanger herself or her family. Allyson knew her next few steps were going to be difficult, but it was for the greater good in the end. ​

Loske was coming, Allyson didn't know what kept the woman holding on. What drove her to continue searching when the person who said they loved her abandoned the search? Allyson knew the answer, she cut him off, she cut everyone off - but it was necessary. The distractions of the others had quieted down, they had no connections to keep them alive. Allyson shook her head as she looked up to the sky, where the bond led her to believe Loske was. Why are you here? Didn't I tell you to stay away? Allyson thought quietly as she waited for their inevitable clash.​

She took a few steps from the dying Legionnaire, she pressed a distress signal for someone to find him. As much as she wanted to make sure he died, she couldn't screw the poor man over for a second time. Watching the sky, she remembered the first time she had met the Legionnaire. His armor was loose but easy to hack along with his ID card when she first set foot on Dantooine. ​

It was better she went out and met Loske; they didn't want to find themselves overwhelmed by Empire Legionnaires trying to save their buddy for the second time. At least this time, Allyson left him with his armor.​

 

[Ursula Vizla]

L O C A T I O N | Ravelin, Residential Sector.
O B J E C T I V E | Starting a relationship
T A G S | Cyndane
G E A R | Masamune
Stealth Cloak, Beskar’Kandar, pair of MT-14 Pistols.​

”Mistress?”, the IA called inside her helmet and Ursula tried her best to ignore it. Her finger was going on like crazy on the trigger, allowing the rifle to unleash hell with its bullets, and Ursula knew without even looking that she wasn’t hitting her mark, not because of the fact that by now she would be screaming like banthas on mating season, but simply because she could see the difference between the thunderous sound of the impact of bullets against buildings, building walls, abandoned vehicles and against the floor of that street. The mandalorian had little doubt that a well-aimed shot of those bullets would even pierce beskar if she had the appropriate chance, but she would not be the idiotic mandalorian who would take this test. There were already enough stupid mandalorians scattered throughout the galaxy.​

"Mistress?", The IA called again and Ursula had already started to get angry when she started running backwards, still shooting. "Mistress?", She ducked, just enough for the rocket attached to the jetpack on her back to fly through the air in one of the directions that little brunette girl was in. "Mistress?", The red-haired girl ran again, ceasing firing for a moment as she gently pressed the button next to the rifle and let the empty magazine hit the ground. "MISTRESS?"​

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF SKYVAR THE APPLE EATER DO YOU WANT?!", Ursula stopped and started howling as she stuffed the clip into the rifle.​

"Are you in need of assistance?" She huffed angrily, snarling and turning around with the loaded gun just long enough to see through the sight of the armor what was coming her way.​

"I hate you.", Her lips almost whisper to the artificial intelligence, as she lowered herself to the floor and raised the rifle to cover her head. Letting the weapon absorb all the impact of the shrapnel and the rest of the junk thrown at it, waiting for the end of the tossed wave to rise and looking disappointingly at her rifle, without even needing major analysis to know that it was damaged for the occasion.​

"What is your name, Miss Sith?", Ursula asked aloud. Running his fingers through the armor and repairing the damage done by that cunning blow. Her jetpack was done, but her boots still worked, like the gatling gauntlets, the flamethrowers and her pistols, which was fine. "You know, It is incorrect to consider me a mercenary. It so happens that I like to think myself to be an amateur artist, almost bordering on professionalism. I was hired by the silly imperials to hunt and kill other silly imperials? Yes, I I went, but I came here after a fortune, behind the Carnifex piggy bank, behind the socks used by Exar Kun so I could use them to blow my nose at night, but we don't have everything we want in life, oh well...", the fingers of her left arm closed around the sword hilt at her back.​

"I sometimes think that life is that last cookie left on a plate after you eat all the other cookies, you want to eat it but you can't take it anymore. Or is that it, or maybe it is a little more like the yellow-teeth of a krayt dragon that brushed them to kiss a lady Rancor. I'm not sure.", she made a confused expression under her helmet until she remembered that Sith was unable to see her face. When she remembered, Ursula started to laugh, low and then loud, bending for a moment and beating with her free hand closed like a fist in small light touches against the surface of her helmet. "Anyway..."​

And much like a switch, Ursula changed her whole act and jumped, starting to run in a single powerful jump against the Sith, wielding the cursed sword with her left arm, directing a single clean, smooth blow in the direction of the pretty girl's lightsaber. She didn't need another arm, not yet, she kept her right back, her fingers holding the Stealth-Pistol, preparing to shoot towards the Sith's feet when both blades had collided, or to stand there and start shooting around if she ran from both blades meeting.​

"That was exactly what I was going to suggest, mistress." ​

 

[Detritus Ren]

Objective: Survive, Break the Sith Lines in Orbit
Allies: Olen Halcorr Var Koon Hiram Voss Hugot Tyvek VII Gordon Hans Rennagen
Enemies: Moon Seo-Yun Grand Moff Aut-X Thaelius TE-236
Ship: TIE/VX Vanguard

Jin remained focused his hands steady on the control yokes, all the while the enemy had more craft jumping out of hyperspace. It was either foolish or damn crazy for Jin to lead a squadron of Vanguards right into the mix of the fray. Yet here he was even nervous that he was even attempting such a half-assed attack, and yet here he was while his power was directed to the shields to minimize damage, the TIE Pilots under his command were not so lucky, even as he started to blasting away with his laser cannons, his TIE roaring through the battle filled space. The laser cannons tearing the Vulture Droids and Hyena Bombers to shreds. How or why the enemy had become so pathetic as to use ancient droid fighters. Must have shown how lazy the navy had become perhaps even an act of desperation on how they had used such tactics. Such cheap tricks wouldn't stop Jin, gritting his teeth as he punched the acceleration, he had a duty to his brothers and sisters. He would see that Bastion would fall under the rightful Imperials, if it killed him he would see to it that the lines were broken.

Before he knew it, as he made his attack run, a squadron of what he had assumed was Sith Interceptors had quickly started to batter Ghost Squadron, alarms blared as several projectiles were launched towards the squadron, Jin yanking hard on the control yokes as he reached through the comm speaking in frantic haste. "Evasive Maneuvers, increase power to shields were are pushing through this fighter swarm! I'll be damned if we turn back now!" The fighters that came straight at him, flanking to the right launched laser blasts towards him, his power still on the shields, he banked left and right using the anger slowly swelling inside him to add an extra boost. A couple of the blasts bouncing off the front of his deflector shields. "Watch those Interceptors boys!" He said one of the Pilots spoke through the comm in affirmation. "Ghost four here... My engines took a beating sir... Not gonna make it." Jin replied frustrated not willing to lose any of his commands. "Ghost Four stay close to me.. We can make it... Stay with me now!" With the missiles still barring down on them launched by the enemy, with a few on ghost four's tale one final transmission came from the wingman. "I-I can't sir... Stabilizers failing... I'm hit-" Then nothing but silence as the last thing Jin heard from the comm was the sounds of an explosion and brief but anguished cries from the pilot. Closing his eyes for a moment unable to process the first casualty. He silently wished for the Force to take him peacefully hoping that his death was rather swift. While the other fighters had taken some maneuvers, they did not break formation, he then heard the frightened voice of Hans over the comm as they still pressed on.

"Keep it together Hans... I've already lost one man today, I am not losing you too damn it! Stay with me man I'm gonna help you!" He said as he broke off from the lead of the squadron to find the flank of where Hans was located, with an interceptor behind him. Jin was momentarily consumed by his anger, he felt it's call as he lined his sights up to his target, watching the targeting computer to gain hold of the enemy hounding his fellow Imperial Knight. He squeezed his trigger finger hard, blasting with blazing fury at the enemy before watching the fighter go up in flames. "Hans you okay buddy? How badly damaged is your fighter?" He said the worry was evident in his tone, anger had slowly dissipated as a female voice calmly whispered into his ear. "Let go of your anger..." As if a lullaby he took a deep breath and focused on what was all around him. The interceptors still kept hounding Ghost Squadron, almost seeking to break the ranks from the attack run.

He had started to fear that both he and his squadron would be utterly humiliated from the likes of the fighter swarms, now with the addition of the Sith's Harmony Squadron. That was until something unexpected came to the field of his vision. Alliance X-Wings. With a voice-over his comm. Hearing the voice of Red Leader, a slight smile of relief. Looks like Alliance Pilots weren't as bad as he thought. "Thanks for the assist Red Leader, Care to assist in the crazy karking idea of breaking those Sith lines. Let's shake these Murglaks off, and show em how X-Wings and TIES together can cause major damage. Let's see if we can turn the tide." He said confidant now that he had accepted some help. Still, he felt sorry for his friend in the squadron. He lost a pilot, and he was determined not to lose a fellow Knight. Moving his fighter to regain lead position. He eyed what he assumed was the lead fire, lining up several of the Interceptors. His teeth gritted as he felt the call of the darkness once more. "You wanna play rough... Say hello to my little friends you schuttas." He said with a sly grin as a cluster of Brillant Missles was launched returning the attack in kind. His determination is still strong to gun for the main capital ships of the blockade.

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Valeria Ragal (Ingrid L’lerim)
The Red Witch; sorcerer, master spy, agent, assassin, sniper, CEO of the HPI Consortium​

Location: Thaumaturgic Tower in Fortress Carnifex, Bastion
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | 2x red blade lightsaber shoto | Tactical Turtleneck with this look | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | Stealth field generator | Holographic disguise matrix | G1 OmniLink | Actual look under the armour: link |
Allies: AMCO | Aren D'Shade
Enemies: Caulder Dune | FN-999

Background music:
Elena Siegman – Abracadavre​

Since there was no problem here yet and she hadn't heard anything, Ingrid almost decided to go back. She first felt another presence near her lover, AMCO . Although she did not feel hostile to this, she felt more anxious from the person who arrived there. She judged that the man might be one of Adrian’s men, so she didn’t have to deal with that then. Moments later, however, she felt as if she was walking in the coldest night of Nelvaan or Kalidan without any clothing.

They were late, the Sith Lord still hadn't left the control room, and meanwhile the mysterious person reached the room where Adrian was there. Who had been felt before when it entered the complex. Icy fear crept along Ingrid's spine. She had always been proud of how well she could control her emotions, but now it was hard to get her cold blood back. She was always worried about Tubrok as well when he came to fighting, even though her husband was a warrior, not just any. He could take care of himself, at least as much as Ingrid herself. In contrast, this was not so true of Adrian.

That place was quite a trap, there weren’t many exit options. One by number. For her lover to get out of there, he had to get through the figure who had just arrived there. She spun around and headed back. There was really only one place to get from this hallway, and that was where Adrian was. She was able to take two steps when heard voices approaching. She couldn't know if it was the enemy or the guard. Drew out her two vibroswords completely silently.

There were only a few moments to suppress her outspoken emotions, worries, fears and be the cold soldier who needed to be in this situation again. Through the existing telepathic connection, even Adrian could feel it all. Ingrid's body tensed completely, silently, taking an offensive stand, invisible. The perfect killer, not to see, not to hear, not to feel. She just lingered in silence, patience and waited for the prey to get close to her so that she could strike down. The battle noise farther away was gone and soon the soldiers showed up in the hallway where she was.

~ I also got company. I will try to deceive them from the escape route as soon as possible and kill them. As soon as I'm done with this, I'll go back for you. Hold on until then, handsome! ~

Her “voice” wasn’t urgent now, and there was no concern in it, just calm and cold, distant professionalism she used very rarely against her lover. But now they both had to stay calm, so she had to. She had to lure the enemy back into the former hall, if they went any further they would get to the control room, which Ingrid couldn't let them to reach that room. Although, maybe the easiest way in this situation that was to leave none alive. The soldiers were in line with the woman. It was the most perfect for her.

She waited, she was excellent at this, she was patient. Barely took a breath, didn't move, letting the soldiers walk past her. Once that was done, she started to move. Although no one could see her, Ingrid turned with springy, airy movements. The way a big cat would have moved, silent, airy, and graceful. The perfect predator, the quiet and imperceptible death.

Dance; a dance of life and death where the woman held both sides in her hands. Art; the art of war and death. A poem; the work of the assassin. Painting is as if every movement or death is a brushstroke. Hard work, unaffordable price. Her childhood and youth were the price to become this. Ruthless killer, cold soldier and assassin. The Emperor's hand, the Red Witch, the sorcerer. In contrast, she is a passionate lover and wife. A woman who desperately wants a family, but she can’t get her greatest desire. But only coldness mattered here, the part of her soul she inherited from her father. The steadfast soldier and the assassination techniques she "got" from her mother. The perfect balance.

Ingrid stabbed her vibrosword in the back of the last soldier, exactly so as to split its spine, the blade coming out of the soldier's chest. The soldier could no longer make a sound, nor could he comprehend what had happened. Ingrid pulled out the blade from the soldier's back and swung on. The next soldier lost his head, his red blood covering those nearby. By the time anyone could have understood anything of what had happened here and turned back, two more soldiers had landed. First their legs were lost after a cut, then their necks were cut through some invisible “force” that were red-and-black vibroswords.

A moment later, the fifth soldier also fell to the ground, howling at the pain caused by the blade as she cut the man and the poison got into his body. Ingrid was visible again at that moment. The tall, airy, decidedly female, armoured assassin took offensive position against the remaining four soldiers and FN-999. She held in her hands two beautiful red-and-black vibroswords, from which even the blood of the soldiers dropped to the ground…

​

 

[Aerith Krayt]

Location: Fortress Carnifax
Enemy: Lirka Ka
Gear: Armor/ Rest in Bio.

Aerith had thought she had bought herself time. She thought wrong obviously. An alarm beeped in her helm, motion flared on her HUD, and she whirled out of cover to find the threat; she hadn't expected to find what had charged her position.

With a grenade being pitched towards her, the cyborg leapt back, her augmented strength carrying her away from the attacker, and was altered midair by the explosion of the grenade. Words were being spoken to her, a clear threat if there was such a thing. Firing off what was left of her rifle towards this new attacker, Aerith could only feel a sense of familiarity that she couldn't place. Had she faced this warrior before? There was really no way of knowing.

Hitting the ground, Aerith rolled back to ger feet, letting the spent rifle fall to the ground, as her hand went towards the Vibro Axe she kept in reserve. Turning the weapon on, Aerith charged back towards her foe, swinging the axe upwards as she sought to push through whatever her foe could throw at her. She had nearly gotten killed the last time she engaged a foe at close quarters, but this time it was different. She was more prepared this time, she was on the offensive, this wouldn't be like Borosk. She would come out on top. 'Shai isn't here to bail you out again.' She lectured herself, as she began to charge forward, axe swinging forward to strike at this new opponent.

Alarms blared inside her helmet, caution alerts that she couldn't make out. The adrenaline was pumping, her mind was focused, and the bloodlust was starting to take over. The cool blue of her eyes morphed into a crimson red, as she let her humanity die, and transfered to the killer she kept buried under the surface.

'Target acquired: Initiating Termination.'

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Ain't no Angel //:
//: Live //:
//: Close Allies //: Ellie Mors //:
//: Enemies //: Kir Dantos //: Darth Assimilus //:
//: Equipment //: Lightsaber //: Lightsaber * //: Gildenweave Dress //: Locket //:

​

The words that poured from the Padawan's lips disgusted the girl, he was worse than back on Myrkr. To abandon all was not the way of the Jedi, she had known that much. Her mother walking the fine line between light and dark had taught them all that there is no one beyond saving. Yet, even then, what was the person being saved from? Shaking her head, she watched as his blade ignited, the color causing her smile to widen. Her own sword rested silently in her hand as she found comfort in the weapon's legacy.​

"That doesn't sound very Jedi of you, Kir. Who are you to try and save me from whatever you feel is harming me? What makes you the one who can narrate my story?" Her smile faded, "Get over yourself. You're just a stupid boy with a twisted sense of importance. You shut out the dark side, but for light to exist, dark must cast a shadow. Your Master is failing you if you cannot see that."​

There was another that she sensed, a behemoth in the Force, and it had picked up her scent. Her mind was wary of what was to come between her and Kir. Something that she had remembered feeling while reading Ashin's side of the Holocron. It spoke of a demon in the Force, and Quinn had hoped she'd never feel the sensation Ashin had described. Her grip tightened on the blade as she kept her attention on Kir, he was prepared to fight and was unwavering in his position.​

"There's nothing to be sorry about, I don't need your pity. It's funny that Jedi rely so heavily on visions thinking they are true and pure. The Force sometimes shows us what we want to see, the desperation in our hearts- not always the truth. I hope you survive long enough to see that and stop being blinded by the black and white narrative the Jedi paint for you." Shaking her head, there was a hint of sadness in her voice. She remembered her mother's teachings, and despite them, she chose to follow Ashin's path. It was her choice, not the Force willing her to do something out of fear and darkness.​

"You'll never be anything more than a blind fool, blinded by the light that you claim is forever righteous. You protect those that would rather strike down someone because they are different because they don't fully believe in the same stories you do because of you - I believe now that the Jedi are just as dark as the Sith." The saber ignited, and a golden blade shot forward from the kyburr crystal. Unlike the typical Sith, Quinn didn't need to bleed the lightsaber's* crystal to obey her. Being created by the Force through the two Master's that shared one of the greatest loves, she was bound to the blade-like Ashin Varanin.​

"A part of me believed you back on Myrkr, but listening to you now, there is no future that exists where we both live. Goodbye, Kir Dantos." She made no movement but summoned the essence of the dark side that resided deep within her. The energy formed through the Force creating a pair of imperceivable energy spears, they launched forward aiming to strike the Padawan in the chest, as they flew - her hand waved seeking to pull him through the Force towards her and the darkshear spears.​

Quinn wondered if the ignition of her creator's blade would summon the Red Behemoth; she was ready and knew that she would be able to call her savior if something happened. With the locket and Vesta nearby, she wasn't scared; both protected her, ensuring her story didn't end here.​

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

I M P E R A T O R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION
Armor | Rifle | Pistol | Melee | Grenades
T H E _ G R U D G E

​

"We can manipulate both sides and guide them to mutual destruction. We need only bide our time the Jedi are strong enough to contest the Sith. And when the brotherhood is weakened, well,"

"We will crush them."​

At the time, it could only be perceived as a bout of delusion, especially from Vaulkhar, the Bloody Handed Bastard himself. That memory pierced his mind, uprooting it from its forsaken crook at the periphery of his consciousness. That encounter aboard the Epitaph not but days following the Battle of Kintan. Where the 'Darkness' sought its rise, only to be snuffed out in part by the Jedi valiance and in part by the failings of the Sith, as much as they postured themselves to be gods among mortals. Infallible, indestructible.

Mandalore gave them a brief respite, as they indulged on the feint in the needless slaughter, bathing in the blood of those they'd betrayed in the Great Galactic War.

Ultimately, the fruits of their treachery is ultimately what brought them here.

He could feel the fortified envelopment of his mind breaking at the seams. But why now? There was no reason not to stand tall, valiant. This was the ultimate vindication, the precipice of the greatest victory he could ever hope to achieve. Yet all the same, the armor was wearing thin in his mind.

Just as he had several times before, in a doomed foreshadowing of perilous events ahead of him, his mind shuttered back to a vision within the past.

Kintan. Of course. The sight of the Darkness Rising.

His blackened grey gaberwool fatigues beneath the camouflaged armor which served as the prelude to what the New Imperial Stormtroopers had equipped themselves with now. He peered to his left to see the phantom of a limb in its place from the moments after it was taken by Lanik Dawnstar. That same calcified shock over took him even as he saw the cold gaze of a Sith trooper's helmet fixated on him, a faint salute before he could see the head motions indicating speech, loud and urgent.

<"General, the Jed- Dorn-two has broken through the gate."> The voice and vision both flashed from the distorted past to the reality he occupied now. The visage of an ebon armored Sith trooper enveloped in the mud of Kintan now the 501st Stormtrooper enlosed in urban ash.

<"Understood. We need to continue the push. Status on Vexen and Zovesa?"> Tavlar inquired. He negated whatever operational designations they might've been deemed here. The scattered self mindedness of himself damned whatever etiquette he might've displayed otherwise.

<"They're continuing on schedule, the 501st is ready to make another advancement at your command, sir."> The 501st command squad trooper sounded out to Irveric.

<"Make it so. All designations continue the advance, priorities descending on all anti-personnel targets. We can roll up 12th to rid of hard targets."> The Cataphracts always did the work, with the rockets from heavy missile platforms typically seeing work themselves in the mailed fist employed by the unit Tavlar had handed off to its rightful inheritor in Major General Konrad Bolter . He should've iterated more how much of a valuable commander Treicolt was as he was often the one filling the grap whenever the Imperator found himself dragged from the front.

But now wasn't the time for sentiment.

<"Your will be done, sir. I've had the 12th pull a company to fortify the forward push, as well the Lord Halk-"> The rapid zip of a sniper shot pulsed through the officer's helmet and skull, sending him down to a slump as Irveric rushed forward to catch the limp corpse. He was dead before he'd ever touch the ground. He'd been granted more respite in this death than too many troopers he'd seen in the thick of it. He recalled his time as an Armored Assault officer, trudging the battlefields to assess vehicles for recovery. Too many good men rendered unrecognizable in charred, blackened and warped flesh which barely signified them as any mortal man to begin with.

It was only then that his pistol was drawn as he allowed the 501st trooper a slight respite in a slowed guidance to the broken earth beneath before he'd grasp into the backplate of his armor to pull him out of immediate danger. A folly of an ambition but hard conditioned instinct made it difficult to conduct himself otherwise.

Just then he heard the evocation of Sith-Imperial Legionnaires swarming to disrupt the charge. Several companies of the men in black moving to choke down over the Imperator's own in a fierce envelopment of the frontal assault. Without clear eyes on it, he could only hear the intensity of the rhythm in each Cataphract's volley near him accelerating from those measured, aimed shots to frantic volleys as the rip and hum of heavy repeaters and fixed automatic weapons ionized in the air.

The war was primal now.

As they continued to push forward, it was then Djorn and his operatives began to strike at the flanks of Tavlar's spearhead. Several tanks and artillery pieces established in stationary positions to lay siege on Fortress Carnifex were the first to reap the whirlwind.

The operatives were quick to encroach down unto him within the chaos. The established posts were under duress and Tavlar had yet to choke the reins of command to manage the madness, though the 501st had certainly the ability to stand on their own by now.

One of Djorn's own lurched ahead in front of the pack, firing a pulse of his blaster center mass into Tavlar's breastplate. The particle bolts splashed and scorched the surface of the armor but it wasn't enough to wrench him from his feet.

The Imperator's gaze secured behind his Enigma armor focused down the commando and grasped the pistol in both hands, extending his arms fully before he fired a sonic round into the chest of the operative.

Dead or not, he was on the ground, incapacitated. Tavlar advanced forward and out of his sequestered position only to stare the sights of another not but a few meters away.

His eyes narrowed.

Diamondback.

V I D A G E
CAPTAIN ANTON CASSEL
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION
Armor | Repeater | Pistol
FOCUS: Halketh

The squeeze of the trigger was intoxicating, to feel the faint bump in his shoulder to act as the faintest retort to another Sith Trooper falling its wake. The next stretch was clear for now and Anton gave a motion of the hand for his unit to continue forward.

He'd felt it again, that rhythm. He hadn't felt it since Borosk, the later stages of that campaign. It was almost as if he was ignorant to the dire strategic predicament the 908th was placed in before eventually he was totally overrun, captured and locked up cold in Orinackra.

<"Up up up!"> Cassel said, peeling out of his stretch of rubble in cover to advance to the next. He felt a blaster bolt slam against his shoulder and the sear of the burn to follow. Not a year prior he might've used that as excuse to curl up and weep on the ground. That scared kid died at Cassel Point. He was worthy of the name now.

Advancing, he could see the Vulture's retinue posted up ready to pull into the next stretch.

But they needed open ground. Rearing up to the next barrier posted the repeater with the stock of the gun on the ground.

<"I got shit for rounds left, think we can get-"> Turning his head to the right, the Sith accompanying his platoon command offered up a power cell to him.

Must've known they'd have needed it.

<"Thanks."> A nod in reply was all the Sith needed and soon enough he'd work the reload of the blaster before moving to take aim down at the now advancing Sith Troopers. They'd been reinforced, putting the 501st even further on the backfoot.

Good.

More Sith for the slaughter.

He squeezed down on the trigger and didn't stop until they could keep moving.
// ALLIES | NIO //: Agrippa | Ravraa Vyshraal | Kor Vexen | FN-999 | Asharo Madar | Sion Alar | Halketh | Marshal Zovesa
// ENEMIES | TSE //: Djorn Bline

 

[KV-6000]

Objective/Location: Guns of the Patriots
Fighter: Tuk’ata-class Sith-Imperial Interceptor - Harmony Sixteen
Onboard Equipment: PU-96 “Imperius” Class Flight Suit | “Judicator” Adaptive Battle Rifle
Allies: TSE (Grand Moff Aut-X Onrai TE-236 )
Enemies: NIO ( Detritus Ren Var Koon Orssos-brel Hans Rennagen ), GA ( Olen Halcorr Dracken Pryce )

Seo-Yun’s lead pursuit quickly carried her interceptor into close range with the TIE/VX ( Detritus Ren ) immediately after her initial attack run, which she compensated for by briefly shifting her nose into a lag pursuit for a fraction of a second in order to reduce closure. Then, within the same second, she angled her interceptor towards the TIE/VX’s rear ion thruster in a pure pursuit, which at that point was situated directly in front of her craft’s nose in a 12 o’clock position. All the while, a gratifying ping in her ears confirmed that her missiles had both connected with their target, taking out one of the New Imperial TIEs in a silent explosion within the cold void of space. However, the adrenal flowing through her system kept Seo-Yun razor-focused on the situation at hand, which was the TIE/VX flying in front of her and the constantly shifting positions of the hostile fighters on her sensor reader in relation to her interceptor. Responding with honed instincts developed through thousands of hours of flight training, Seo-Yun followed the TIE/VX as it pulled into a hard bank to the left. The maneuverability of her interceptor allowed her to hold her nose in a pure pursuit angle directly behind the TIE/VX ion drives as it turned, albeit not without stress on herself and her craft. As such, she pushed more power to the engines so that she could execute the hard maneuver with minimal loss of speed.

However, when the bandit broke hard to the right, Seo-Yun didn’t hesitate to seize the opportunity for another guns attack, in spite of the pressure she could feel building within her body due to the intense Gs. She angled her interceptor’s nose ahead of the Vanguard’s flight path as the enemy craft pulled into the turn, before squeezing the triggers in the same half-second, firing off a salvo of six bolts from her laser cannons that shot through the black void of space at intense speed, towards what she hoped would be the TIE’s fuselage. While the bandit in front of her had already absorbed some of the fire from the guns-attack she had executed only moments before, she hoped that their shields wouldn’t be able to hold out long under a sustained assault. If they did, she still had more concussion missiles in reserve, but she didn’t want to put them into play at such an early stage in what could potentially spiral into a high-intensity turning battle.

If it came to that, victory would demand far more from her than a lucky fire-and-forget missile strike.

 

[AMCO]

​

Location: The Conduit, beneath the Thaumaturgical Tower, Fortress Carnifex
Objective: Preserve the Sith Empire's secrets... and more importantly, stay alive.
Equipment: SIB-14 & G1 OmniLink | Shield Talisman, Empyrean Gland, & [2] Jin'Pins | 6/6 Karza'Arana Darksworn
Writing With: Aren D'Shade (Ally) & Caulder Dune (Opponent) || Ingrid L'lerim (Ally) & FN-999 (Enemy)

Be yourself and try not to be heroic - there were some who would be offended by such a comment, but Adrian was not among them. On the contrary, it brought a smile to his lips. <A hero? Me? I would never!> Returning his attention to the technicians as his lover departed, the Sith Lord was about to utter another dubious encouragement when reality folded and twisted, depositing someone in his immediate vicinity.

Though he turned with unnatural speed even as a protective barrier manifested, his guard dropped just as quickly upon recognising the figure.

"Ah, Aren, I take it you've learned to control your most recent talent?" Momentarily distracted from something as trivial as the greatest battle of a long and brutal campaign, he might very well have continued to focus on her feat had she not brought his attention to the matter at hand.

"The lady you just missed is securing the primary route - and there are always more mystical options." A sharp scowl aimed at an especially curious technician returned his attention to the console before him. "As for data, no, what should be saved has been saved - this is about denial of assets. Preferably without destroying irreplaceable infrastructure, as the Empire has hardly given up on Bastion."

As if on cue, the intruder opened the reinforced door to the control room with casual ease - without triggering the inbuilt security measures.

After a few instants of silence, Adrian smiled broadly, extended his hands outwards in greeting, and completely ignored the order to cease what they were doing, assuming that his subordinates would take his silence as an order to continue. "Lord Adekos? Truly, I would be honoured to host one as illustrious as yourself, but alas you seem to have walked past the "employees only" sign. Common mistake."

Straightening his jacket-that-was-not-truly-a-jacket, he eyed the aged Umbaran's ignited lightsaber with a raised eyebrow. "I do hope you haven't come hoping for an adrenaline-rich duel, I would hate to have to disappoint an honoured guest."

 

[Bayaz]

Galactic Alliance Marines
222nd Nova Corps - Twilight Company
Bastion - Ravelin
Commercial Sector - Bastion Imperial Opera House

For as long as he'd been dropping into combat he'd been fighting Sith and their various Empires as they sprung up across the Galaxy. They were always such a formidable force that he'd never even thought attacking a Sith capital world was possible. That is until Tavlar came on to the scene. The man, a former Sith trooper turned Supreme General, had almost singlehandedly put the Sith on the backfoot with little support from Force users or Jedi. He fought on their terms and those terms left no room for feelings or mercy. The way he fought was the complete opposite of Admiral Pryce.

"Speaking of," he muttered under his bucket as a proximity alert pinged him. The LAV rumbled as it came to a stop. With a hiss, the hatch dropped and the fireteam worth of GA Marines filed out with Marcus bringing up the rear. Three LAVs formed a wide circle in the courtyard of the massive monochrome pyramid, standard procedure for a small caravan like this. Heavily armored and shielded, which was rare for LAVs like this, the circle could provide overlapping deflector barriers offering a strong defensive position for pinned down GA Marines or Army troopers when the deflectors were actually active. Marcus looked up at the massive building and wondered what the Sith's obsession with death was. It was impressive at least, the black material they used to construct the opera house reminded him of the Sith tombs he'd seen while on tour during the war with the One Sith. But this building though looked too modern and glossy to be such a place, a place for the opulent that he assumed most people on Bastion would never get to experience.

Nearby he could hear blaster fire and explosions, but they weren't meant for him. At least not yet. Advanced parties had already pushed the Sith from this area once before but there were reports of the Sith pushing back. The courtyard was littered with corpses clad in the black armor of the Sith and the white armor of the New Imperials. One of his marines let out a low whistle as they examined the carnage.

"Must have been quite the firefight," said the Marine. Marcus grunted in acknowledgment. If reports were to be held as fact the NIO steamrolled this position and continued moving on leaving a token force to defend it before it was taken back by the Sith. Whatever Sith troopers were reported here weren't around now it seemed, but neither was the NIO. It felt odd. As the squad began to take shape and take up defensive positions around their small caravan of LAVs Marcus felt the hair on the back of his neck stick up into the synthetic material of his bodyglove. He grabbed the wrist of his second-in-command who was starting to give the all-clear when he heard the distinctive whine an E-WEB heavy repeating blaster cannon spinning up. He pulled the 2nd Lieutenant behind the LAV they were standing near as the automatic blaster ripped through two of his men and slammed into the armor plating of their vehicle. The weapon cut through their betaplast armor like a lightsaber through bantha butter. Rated to stand up to standard military issue blaster and particle weapons and shrapnel it didn't stand a chance. Marcus slammed his gauntleted hand against the outer hull of the LAV. They had started running cold when they got here and their shields weren't up. The driver didn't need Marcus' prompting though. An instant later there was a shimmer in the air as the overlapping shields activated. There was something wrong though. The third LAV wasn't active.

"Bantha Three, this is Twilight Actual. What's the holdup on those shields?"

BRRRRRRRRRRRT

There were two E-Webs pelting their position from the opera house now laying fire down on their position and without that third shield up they were open entirely on their left. A few moments later, a few moments too long, Marcus' com activated with a static pop as garbled audio came through.

"Ban...Thr...op.....er....ed" They were jamming now too? He cursed as he peeled around the side of the transport and ran back up the ramp, turning his helmet's volume to max so he could be heard over the fire.

"Gunners get us some cover!"

"Yessir!" When he got back out he signaled to his remaining marines to get ready to move on the building. There was a spattering of cover from here to the massive ground level doors, a few statues of Sith Lords and what looked like a musician. Some abstract pieces of art too, black spheres and oddly shaped geometric shapes. All three LAVs were blasting with their composite beam cannons now, the green energy streaking across the courtyard in long sustained bursts around the area where the turret fire was coming from. The third LAV was on fire now and probably didn't have much time left. The crew saw that too and had fled, seeking cover behind Bantha One and Bantha Two's shields, carrying with them a bundle of com equipment.

Marcus nodded and shouted over the minutiae warzone that had opened up in front of them.

"Run hard and don't look back or up! Only forward! Pump those arms and make it to the doors! Anyone who doesn't make it is getting dust drills from here to Coruscant! KTF Marines!" He didn't wait. He was the first one around the LAV at a dead run. Small arms blaster fire was raining down now in conjunction with the E-WEB. He was already sweating buckets before but now? It felt like he was running through a Kaminoan typhoon. He skidded to a stop against the wall and only then noticed he was the last one to make it. Damn young bucks had passed him while he ran for his life.

"In." The fight to take the Opera House was on.

 

[Ra's]

DK-03
Location :Near Fortress Carnifex
Objective : Defeat the Dark Trooper.


All around them TSE and NIO forces alike fall in screams of agony as the explosions and waves of fire continue to rain over the battlefield in which the Sith Kaleesh and the Dark trooper are dueling, soldiers from both sides started to spread and get away from the position of the two monsters leaving them a huge area to continue their destructive fight. Ra's was behind a abandoned vehicle taking cover in front of the furious barrage of fire from his opponent, the Kaleesh know that he can't continue like this much longer, while his mastery of the force greatly improved those last months he won't be able to abuse it much longer, but to assure his victory he need to use all he have before resorting to close combat only.

Jumping from his cover in the airs Ra's use all of his remaining force power he have on the moment to redirect the wave of bullets right back at the shooter. Using the enemy own weapons against him was one of the first lessons a good warrior need to learn. Right after that if his initial move succed he will throw his Electro-Bisento at the Dark Trooper chest in the hope to finish him.

 

[Tulan Kor]

Objective: Take Nida's life.
Allies: Amon Vizsla l NIO
Enemies: Nida Perl l Sith Empire l Cara Dorniarn

"I was living just as much of a lie as she was, at one point. But lemme tell you- I left when I figured it out, put two and two together that I wasn't where good things were. She went from good to bad, knowing what they did all the time. Slaves, rapists, murderers- Sith are pure evil, kid. And I'd die before I'd let her live another moment bein' with them."



Dorn Company swarmed through the breach in their defenses, lead by their stalwart, experienced NCOs and Team Leaders that were multiple tour veterans themselves, hand-picked by Setter Ryburn at their level, for the most part. Needless to say, they were pretty damn good at what they did. Red-eyed, night-vision clad demons of men swarmed in, pushing the Sith further back. Not even the Sith acolytes and warriors were a match- they too, fell victim to Dorn Company's wrath. Slugthrowers helped too.

With the crack of suppressed rifles behind them, the shouting of commands, the exchange of blaster and rifle fire, the scene was chaotic, hellish, and a perfect example of the brutality and savagery of war.

Her push from the force was to be expected- but it was still hard to manage and deflect. Tulan stumbled over, caught off balance due to his sprint. He managed to scramble to his feet, gloved hands pressing against the floor for balance as he went back up to her. Her voice flittered in his mind, soft-spoken like he remembered.

This is where I belonged.

His eyes narrowed, and his thoughts rang out with one word.

L I A R.

He had been her, at one point. Granted, it was the One Sith- another iteration of their so called 'Eternal Empire'. Funny, how, that it was on it's 10th one. Beaten again and again, and Tulan was there for one of the times the Sith burned. This was another retribution, this was another war for him on a personal level. But Nida?

Nida was pure revenge.

He gave up everything for her. He sacrificed it all. Thirdas. The Rangers. Silver Rest- it all went up in smoke to protect the daughter of Joza Perl . Tulan rotated his knife as he approached, making the blade face downward as he screeched towards her like a rocket. He jumped upwards, his knee tucked close to his hip, his hands up in a guard. Tulan went to knee Nida in the chest as an opening salvo to their fight. He wanted her to hurt. To know what she put him through just then. To know what it was like to suffer.

Tulan knew what it was to suffer.

Tulan knew what it was like to lose, to have nothing.

Tulan knew what it was like to bleed, to break bones.

Tulan knew what it was like to suffer cuts, slashes, burns, gunshots. Fists, knives.

Tulan knew what it was like to feel the heat from a fire, let alone a lightsaber. The sting of a tattoo needle.

Nida Perl was lacking in that knowledge.

She was going to learn.

 

[Ravraa Vyshraal]

Hero of War

​

Location: Outside of Fortress Carnifex
Task: Bring Down The Sith Empire - Objective One
RP Partners: Dorn-2 PCs, OPEN
Faction: New Imperial Order
Narrative NPCs: Dorn-2
Ammo Count: 15/15 (1/3)
TAGS: Agrippa FN-999 Irveric Tavlar Kor Vexen Asharo Madar Sion Alar Halketh

​

He liked to think of impossibilities in life.

He liked to imagine a world where none of this had ever had to happen. A universe, a Galaxy, of peace and exploration. Something like the end of the week holotoons that he would watch with Zohlees, sitting on his lap in the cockpit of that old freighter, a screen pulled down over the window. Flickering colors turned to bliss. A universe where the bad guys always lost and the good guys came home, a universe where there was an easy black and white to life and the only time someone died was off screen, and normally, no one important. Maybe that universe had existed, sometime. History books called it the Long Peace, despite how short it was. This brief shimmer of time where there was no carnage, there was no Sith, no Imperiums forming these dark cabals to make might right. Maybe it never was, maybe that gilded cage of an era was just something of a trick, a great play of fate that the Galaxy liked to have sometimes.

He liked to think of impossibilities. A return to the fabled age.

Was that something he could forge from gunfire and loss? Something from hate and despair? Something from revanchism and terror?

He liked to believe in impossibilities.

The swarm of boys in white parted as much as it could, like a stone in a roaring river. Occasionally he was butted against by a passing shoulder, some congratulations lost in the march, sometimes a shout to get back into the fight. Someone was calling to him. He took a step forward, peering over the buckets and raising blasters.

Cinders. They spawned like snowflakes from the wreckage. It had collapsed into itself from the heat, the primary supports having melted the base of the gunship. It looked as if some child had broken a model toy over their knee.

His pilot was in there. His friend was in there. The low hum of the last ditch alarm still blared from the ship. It decayed and fell to digital bitcrushing as the flames spread.

Ravraa took another step. His face was exposed to the elements. Even here, the gloom and chill of the Bastion day was seeping into his skin. His bones shivered.

“G’hecran!” It started as a yell, breaking half way through into a wither.

“... We need to get him out of there. He’s still in there, boys… we need to get him ou’ of there…”

He slung his slugthrower over his shoulder, the sling barely catching and slapping the weapon against the back of his armor as he attempted to part his way through the steadily thinning crowd.

“G’hecran! He’s still in there,” He began pushing the other troopers that got in his path. “Move, move, G’hecran!”

The flames had settled into a gentle yellow.

A hand found it’s way onto his shoulder. He blinked, looked up, Jeresan was standing in front of him. His lips were moving.

<“Rav, focus! He’s gone. He. Is. Gone. We can’t do this right now.”>

“He… the body. He deserves a funeral, flowers… his family, does anyone know if..?”

<”He will get one, Ravraa! We will make sure of it, but we don’t have the time. Pull yourself together. He did that for a reason.”>

“I… I ordered him to.”

<”Damnitall, no! He saved the whole damned army! He saved you! He knew what you are, who you are. He knew the risks. We’d have been smashed against the next line if it wasn’t for him.”>

“He deserved be-”

<”He deserves you! We all do. You have saved us, Rav. Time and time again, on the field and off, you’re our anchor. You’re always there. His story is over, he gave that so yours could continue, he saw worth in you. We all do!”>

Ravraa looked down for a second. His hands were trembling. They flexed into fists before he looked back up at his sniper.

“Right… right.”

Jeresan took a step back, his hand leaving Ravraa’s shoulder.

<”Orders, Sarg?”>

The Togruta slugged his shoulder forward, his rifle returning to his hands. He looked down at the archaic heirloom. He thumbed the mag release, dropped it, and fed in a fresh one. Charging handle brought back and let to slam home.

“We follow Gladius Company, they could use the support. We put every single Sith bastard we find down. We stay as a group, we stay together. Ohta su marvalic plesodoro.”

He liked to believe in impossibilities.

​

 

[Aren D'Shade]

Location: Fortress Carnifex, Bastion
Objective: Deny NIO technological information
Allies: TSE and their allies, AMCO , Ingrid L'lerim
Enemies: NIO and their allies, Caulder Dune , FN-999

For just a moment in her actions, Aren stopped to look back at her Master. He mentioned she had just missed a woman leaving the room to secure their escape route. Since it seemed he had that planned for, she turned back to the task in front of her. That unit went dark and she stood up to move to the next one.

While she was in the process of moving, she nodded in answer to his question.

"Yes, I have been practicing making my moves more controlled. This way, when I'm falling to my death out of the sky, I could land in my bed at home and not some rocky pinnacle across the Galaxy and die anyway."

Before she ever reached the next one, some guy walked in and ordered them to stop what they were doing and step away from the computers. Not only that, but he also carried a lightsaber. Giving her Master a flat look, she shook her head. It might have been a good thing she wasn't actually close to a console to actually have to step away from one.

At least, he had been able to answer her question before the stranger appeared. Looking at the hall behind him, Aren couldn't help but notice the technology was dark. Unless he had the same skill in the Force that she did, there was no way, in her mind to have accomplished turning them off that fast.

After her observation, her attention snapped back to him. The first thing she noticed was his eye. Then the rest of him. A small sense of glee filled her. Knowing her luck though, he had probably figured out a way to keep his enhanced body from becoming a victim of Mechu-Deru.

Allowing Adrian to take the lead here, one of her hands was behind her back and the other in her always present bag of tools. So far only the intruder had any weapon out and she wasn't about to draw hers. Besides, why should she do that when she could attempt to turn his own body against him?

Reaching out with the Force, she did just that and attempted to disable the vision in his cybernetic eye. It wasn't anything violent, just something to try and disrupt him and buy them a bit of time.

 

[Halketh]

user :// THE_VULTURE
location :// SOUTH APPROACH, FORT CARNIFEX, BASTION
local time :// UNKNOWN
objective :// HAIL_AND_KILL
post :// iv
allies :// NIO, Irveric Tavlar & THE 501ST STORMTROOPER LEGION CLOSEBY // DOOM DIVISON
pre-determined foe(s) :// Darth Xer
opposition status :// OPEN FOR ENGAGEMENT
[ don't call it a warning ]
[x]

WITH SUPPRESSIVE fire delivered when they needed it most, what was left of Doom Division on this front rallied themselves beneath their crumbling cover. Battle patches were slapped onto wounds, guns were reloaded, and inventory was taken. Steadying breaths held Halketh captive while he assessed the situation, doing his best to drown out the streams of neon fire surging just over his head. Despite the armor he wore to protect himself, he could feel the heat. "Ready one!" He commanded, dragging elbows across the duracrete to reposition himself.

"Ready!" An-all-too-familiar Corporal called, punctuating his declaration with the rip of pin and clicking compression of the spoon.

"Throw!"

The cold grenade whipped through the air, carried by the resolve of the entire Corps towards its mark. Kezec felt himself tensing abruptly and digging his plated fingers into the broken ground beneath him. Where was it? Where was it...

The sudden, unmistakable hiss of pressurized gas being released at once made his heart jump into his throat. "Report!"

"On target sir!" The Corporal belted back, pumping his scattergun in preparation, "One gun is disabled!"

"PUSH!"

Kezec leaped up, vaulting over the collapsing cover and rushing headlong towards the next nest of Sith Imperial defense. Both hands braced before him, solidifying a Force Barrier used to safeguard the bloodied soldiers behind him. Plasma fizzled against the willful wall, their wailing disrupted only by the much heavier gut-punches of slugs. The Vulture grit his gnashing teeth and strained against the kinetic force of such a battery. "R-ready two!"

"Ready sir!"

"Throw!"

A repetition of a cycle which had worked before, yet as that icy hail mary sailed between their crawling force and the wasp's nest, The Force blazed across Kezec's vision in a disorienting flare, revealing to him the presence of only more Sith Imperial Knights. Some invisible hand smacked the cold grenade away, sending it crashing to burst against a ruined building to the left. Well, that certainly wasn't going to work. He growled to the troopers shifting behind him and scattered in cover yet still: "Steady!" Quickly the tendrils of his focus rushed out, stabbing at anything his strange sight would reveal to him. Debris. Bodies. Explosive ordinance. Anything at all he could launch. Yet as he twisted his heels into the broken ground, barely keeping himself and his wall standing with the assault pounding it, he realized he would not be able to keep this barrier maintained to the required level AND launch a counter-attack to ease their pressure.

"Tell us when sir!" The Sith Knights still standing with them lifted hands beside him, illuminating his vision with pulsating flickers of red and black. He could see their fury and malice oozing from their armored flesh; how it thrashed at the air around them in moshing defiance. This was as cathartic for them as it was for him. And he needed it to be.

His focus trained forward. Inhale. Exhale. Shoulders tightened their fibrous coil. "NOW!"

Crimson lightning surged in the palms of those to either side of him. Artificial thunder cracked. In step with The Vulture and in time with one another, the knights launched their arcing assault, sending blinding flashes of white-hot vengeance towards the nest. Cries of hitting the deck and counter were lost to the crackling sound, and at once, the pressure was off for the moment. Sith Imperial Knights rushed with flashing sabers to deflect and catch what they could, but by then, Kezec's barrier was down--

And the avalanche crashed down upon the defenders.

Flesh ripped. Blood flew. Life ended.

And the earth raged beneath their boots.

 

[Orssos-brel]

Location: Space Above Bastion
Task: Engage Sith-Imperial Space Forces
Unit: Helldriver Support Wing
Makeup: 2x TIE/OTx Outlanders, 3x TIE/DF Drones
Personal Ship: TIE/HF Slasher
Faction: New Imperial Order
Allies: All NIO and GA Space Elements

Battle Over Coruscant
​

Orssos thought that he knew quite a few things about what modern astronaval combat looked like. He figured, as most did, that dogfighting archaic warmachines would be somewhere in the back of what would be expected. Of course, ships were generally slow to be phases out, especially in automated forms. Droid ships were simple, easy, there wasn’t much room to innovate besides slapping the newest age of hyper-polymer carbon super metal, a common joke term he threw around his old shop, and send them back into the fray. This never clicked that he would find himself in this situation. He was twisting the centre stick of his fighter as if his life depended on it, as if it did when faced with the Clone Wars era craft was up for debate, sending him into a rolling pattern as a pair of Vulture droids honed on behind him.

For what it was worth, they kept close on him, and there was a moment or two where he thought their fire would be consistent enough to breach his shields.

The Outlander TIEs were busy engaged with their own mess of droids, and he wasn’t exactly sure where the TIE Drone’s had gone. They had broken off of following him sometime during the fretting start of the chase. Perhaps their targeting computers got lost, perhaps there was an EMP burst he wasn’t aware of? A thousand answers to their absence, none of them acceptable, rolled through his head. The original idea, at least, what he wanted to do was attempt to get close enough in the trench runs of support vessels to crank off a couple turbolaser rounds into one of the Munificent class vessels. Though not hammering as much firepower to be a concern, he still wished to do something. Maybe knock off an anti-air emplacement or two, something of worth.

That was quite impossible at the moment, though. Another series of bolts slammed into the back of his TIE.

“Drone Aurek, Besh, and Cresh, report.”

Static.

Gods above...