Dominion Family Feud | GA Dominion of Thracior

[Spirit of Patience]

T H R A C I O R


Once a peaceful planet, Thracior has found itself constantly strained over revolt and disagreement ever since the warlords started fighting over territory centuries ago. Dry and barren, it wasn’t a location within the Core Region many offworlders visit due to the known hostile nature of the planet’s citizens. An adversity that was shared between the clans and extended without hesitation to anyone that wasn’t born to the planet’s soils. Brutalized conflict was not foreign to the world, but in recent events the curve of escalation had steepened so severely that Clan Hnsi was starkly on the backfoot and the Tantt clan suddenly became oppressive.

The Tantt clan recently underwent a change in leadership. The previously more..tolerant leader, Iola Ecin, suddenly found herself fall ill and unable to continue guiding the clan through influence - her entire person deteriorated and handicapped. And she was so close to establishing a treaty over territory with the Hsni!

The new leader, Yug’Dab, has taken as many steps as possible to demolish the progress toward the treaty and heighten the level of antagonism against those not part of his nation.

The accelerated aggression from the Tantt seems to be noticeably uncharacteristic. Desperate to validate a suspicion, a pleaful request was sent to the senate of The Galactic Alliance from an anonymous member of Ecin’s household. Theirs was a hypothesis of a plot set in motion to overthrow the previous representative of Tantt. Eager to expand territory, and of course offer help to those on the Galactic Alliance’s borders, the Intelligence dispatched a team to follow a string of clues. Shadows and undercover agents managed to discover a coven of witches supporting Yug’Dab pulling strings and casting hexes against the Tantts to encourage a genocidal war and eradicate the Hnsi.

Will Yug’Dab abdicate with the evidence proven against him? Will the citizens of the clans realize the unwarranted bloodshed was part of a plot founded in a mystical power hungry influence?

Can the Galactic Alliance help Iola Ecin be restored to their former strength and finally draw the conflicting groups to a place of agreement?

Objective 1: Infiltrate and dismantle

Judicials, Jedi and Military? Oh my! These forces are teaming up, not for the first time, to apprehend the brutalists who’ve initiated such nefarious intentions in the Tantt’s warriors.

Based on the leads generated by the Intelligence agency, who’d pre-scouted the planet and uncovered the infiltration plot, scout out and dismantle those wicked witches who are working to position Tantt as the hyper aggressors. The teams are equipped with the supposed coordinates of the base the group supporting the faux Tantt leader are operating from.

Objective 2: Peacekeepers

Designated leaders of both Tantt and Hnsi have agreed to meet with Galactic Alliance representatives, even if it’s just to assure the offworlders that there’s nothing wrong with the planet and no intervention is required.

Equipped with the information on the Tantt’s nefarious rationale for abdication, can you persuade the restoration of Iola Ecin to the Tantt’s leadership and guide them to a more peaceful approach between one another and help establish parameters that don’t threaten the livelihood of each clan’s people?

Objective 3: BYOO
Planets are big places -- find something else to do.



​

​

Spoiler

Those who requested tags for dominions:
Tempest Yore
Corala Gethsverg
Adhira Chandra
Din Marren
Elayne Daklana
Lon Vondon
Rik Perris
Ordon Trozky
Faith Organa
Ava Cartwright-Pryce
Cambria Zadira
Constantine Oliva
Leon Gallo

 

[Astraea Tagge]

Location: Thracior, The ASV Regal
Objective: Peacekeepers - Protect the GA Diplomats
Focus: Adhira Chandra ll Auteme

"COMPANY! ATTEN--TION!"

There was a loud, communal thud as the company of 160 Alliance Marines came to order on deck the massive GAS Regal transport ship. Astraea stood poised on the dais of the deck, surveying her company with a harsh gaze. The Marine Lieutenant had wondered why such a large support ship and such a large unit had been assigned for a diplomatic mission, but when it became clear the CIS also intended to intervene on Thracior she understood that it was a show of strength. The Confederacy was not the enemy of the Alliance... yet, but they needed to make clear to their neighbors that the Alliance was more than capable of meeting their threat.

Astraea was in her dress-blues, a more official uniform so as not to alarm the natives of Thracior when she accompanied the diplomatic contingent, but her company was in full marine armor and in every squad a tall pole was emblazoned with a golden banner bearing the emblem of the Alliance. There was a loud whir of an alarm and the massive ship hangar began to flood with sunlight as the deck extended to the planet. Simultaneously, the doors behind Astraea opened revealing a group of finely dressed government officials.

"PRESEEEEEENT.... ARMS!"

The harsh lieutenant shouted her echoing command. The entire company, in one swift motion, thrust their ceremonial blasters forward in salute as the diplomats stepped onto the platform.

"ABOUT FACE"

160 Alliance soldiers stomped in unison to face the open deck.

"FORWARRRRRD MARCH!"

The banners swayed in the wind of the planet as it rushed inside the ship and the entire company of marines marched outward onto the planet's surface, leaving a perfect avenue for the Alliance's ambassadors to process down the middle. Finally, the blonde-headed marine turned to the leader of the Alliance representatives and offered her salute. "Senator Chandra, a pleasure to see you again, ma'am. The planetary chieftains await your arrival... shall we?" She motioned forward down the avenue of soldiers that continued to march forward.

 

[Din Marren]

Objective: 1 - Infiltrate & Dismantle
Allies: Galactic Alliance
Enemies: Witch Coven, TBD
Equipment: See bio. (Assets)
Complement: REC-LU01 Heavy Apex Assault Transport & anyone interested in joining!

Something had been pulling the strings here.

Thracior had fallen into a state of peril as a planetary conflict escalated among the primitive tribes that dominated it. It had been chalked up as nothing more than an aggressive expansion in early intelligence reports, but apparently the SIA had recently gained intel suggesting that was not the case afterall.

With foreign powers already intervening in the escalating planetary conflict, the Galactic Alliance had initially deemed the situation to be in good hands. That was, until the Strategic Intelligence Agency received intel from an anonymous source that things were not as they seemed. The information received suggested that a nefarious force with unclear motives had taken an interest in the old, dusty world and the warlords of the Tantt Clan.

The sudden traction in their offensive has so far resulted in the slaughter of thousands of their rival clan, the Hsni, upsetting the balance that has long existed on the planet. With every minute resulting in more casualties, the Alliance was quick to organize a response fleet to be dispatched to intervene.

Inside his designated HAAT, Din leans against the frame of the opened port-side door to stare down at the shrubland below them with his rifle in-hand. Two other transports are visible in his peripheral vision, with the three flying in a V-formation; his own on the right. Despite the torrent of wind pouring in through the opened side-panel and the reverberating of the ion engines, the commando's insulated helmet surrounds him in a tranquil silence with the audio sensors toggled off. From within, only the sound of his own breathing and the occasional comms chatter interrupt his pseudo-meditation.

<<ETA 1 minute.>>​

At the co-pilots announcement, Din looks from the passing scenery to the crew aboard the transport; a mix of Defense Force Marines and Jedi that had been dispatched from the New Jedi Order. The three craft were approaching the coordinates they'd received from Defense Force Command; a particularly deep-set crag in the foothills of a mountain range near the Tannt homeland and capital city of Siyah. According to the unknown source, a coven of "witches" were hiding in the area and influencing the actions of Yug'Dab and, in turn, his people.

<<Alright team, it's almost showtime. I know we've been over it, but one last time: Once we touch down at the target location, Aurek and Besh Squads will disembark from their transports and secure the perimeter. When they give the okay, we will disembark and push forward to the caverns,>> anyone with access to an advanced HUD or datapad would receive a satellite image of the area, outlining a narrow footpath down the crag with a seemingly natural entrance into a cavern at the bottom.

<<Our scouts didn't report any activity, but it's likely that we will meet some resistance -- Tannt or otherwise -- before we finally reach these, err, witches,>> his T-visors looks between those around him, hoping the initial phase of the plan was understood <<Command wants at least one of these witches alive for questioning if possible. Do your best to oblige, but don't risk your life, okay?>>

The sound of the ion engine repositioning for touchdown catches Dare's attention. Looking back out, the scenery is dramatically different. While still kilometers from the mountains, the terrain around the foothills and crag are uneven and rocky. The marines and Jedi of Aurek and Besh Squads can be seen dropping from their HAATs a meter above the ground before quickly assuming defensive positions.

<<Aurek-1, landing zone secure.>>



<<Affirmative. This is Besh-1, landing zone secure. You're clear to advance, Cresh-1.>>​

Din pulls his rifle in and moves to the edge of the troop platform, preparing to drop to the rugged surface below. <"Alright team, we're clear. Let's get in, get out, and maybe we'll earn a medal along the way, yeah?">

At that, he drops from the HAAT and takes several quick steps forward, then drops to a knee to cover while the remaining squad members disembark.

Spoiler: Tags

Gala Geert
Astraea Tagge
Tempest Yore
Corala Gethsverg
Adhira Chandra
Din Marren
Elayne Daklana
Westenra Mina
Lon Vondon
Rik Perris
Ordon Trozky
Faith Organa
Ava Cartwright-Pryce
Cambria Zadira
Constantine Oliva
Leon Gallo
Lakura Salim
Cerys gan Ymlerith Ithlinne
A'Sura Den

 

[Gala Geert]

Objective 1 // Thracior // Team Cresh
Din Marren & else​

​

Another day, another mission. The expansion of The Galactic Alliance was in full tilt now, as a unified government, and deployments were more frequent than ever. Gala’s bank account had never been so healthy. Now she had to start thinking about how to spend her wealth.

Her thumb drew over her bottom lip in consideration of the upcoming threat. The reports had listed witches as the root of the Tantt problems. Hexes, spells, incantations. Things the Mirialan had no exposure to previously and there was something spooky about it. She imagined long, knotted fingers dancing above cauldrons, vapours rising up at the beckoning chants. A shudder was suppressed as she snapped back to the briefing and pulled her helmet over her emerald tresses.

As soon as she did, the space where the other operatives occupied became augmented with digital information peppered amidst their outlines. The most notable being the projection of the rock carved sanctuary the unholy had chosen to operate from.

The HAAT touched down, and those clad in pearlescent armour followed the first helmet head out the side. Gala was no exception.

<Yeah, then you can make sure Gideon doesn't make it to the stage again.> Gala chuckled into the shared comms. Sigma Squad was entering from another position, but it was likely the commandos were sharing a similar frequency.

Once everyone had set their feet on the uneven ground, the transports adjusted their positions to support the evac when it would be required - or provide cover fire should anything go extremely awry. Now out of the transport and beginning the descent to the reported site where their targets were holed up, Gala readied the viperwasp and levelled it to a useful position that still allowed her to maneuver alongside the rest of the squadron without obsucuring her vision. All the while, in the lower corner of her helm, the HUD countdown the distance in ranges of meters to their target.

 

[Adhira Chandra]

Location: Thracior, The ASV Regal
Escort: 78th Company of the Galactic Alliance Marines
Objective: Achieve lasting peace on Thracior
Theme: Dominion Over Thracior
Focus: Auteme ll Astraea Tagge

​

The people of Thracior were simple. Tribal warlords, chieftains, and soldiers dominated the planet, but they clearly understood one component of galactic politics: an overwhelming show of force. So, as the GAS Regal touched down in the forest clearing where the tribal leaders had agreed to meet, a contingent of Y-wing bombers soared overhead to demonstrate the Alliance's aerial superiority. An advantage the Thraciorian tribes utterly lacked.​

​

When the doors to the hangar bay hissed open and Adhira gazed out over the vast number of soldiers assembled, she almost lost her breath at the lengths the Alliance had gone to demonstrate their ability to dominate the planet. It was true, she'd advised the Minister of State to send a large military presence to Thracior to demonstrate - not only to the warlords who governed the planet - but also to the looming Confederacy that the Alliance was not only willing but also able to contend with their military might. "Thank you, Lieutenant," the Senator nodded respectfully to the saluting commander of the marine company.​

​

At the military officer's direction, Adhira lifted the hem of her flowing blue and gold-hemmed skirts and set off down the ramp. The sound of the boots of the Alliance marines were like drum beats and the banners swaying overheard gave her a swell of confidence in their ability to bring peace on the savage planet. With Adhira were a number of other Alliance politicians and, one, in particular, Auteme as a representative of the Chancellor's office she'd let walk in step with her. "This is a big moment for the Alliance, Ms. Denko," she smiled down at the young aide, "we are quickly on our way to reclaiming the core. And then, we shall bring peace to the galaxy once more."​

​

The military contingent came to a halt as they reached the ground of the ramp. Adhira and the others crested the edge of the ship and could see clearly that the two clans and their leaders had congregated at the bottom to greet them. One was a beautiful young warrior princess who looked as mighty as she was threatening... the other looked positively alarming. In any case, as the marines saluted once more, Adhira set forth down the ramp, smiling, to greet them with her contingent beside her.​

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

// OUTRIDER //
// OBJECTIVE // Infiltrate & Dismantle
// THEMATIC // Nonagon Infinity // Track 1 // Robot Stop
// FOCUS // Din Marren | Gala Geert | OPEN

As much as Maynard postured himself as a pilot, he'd begun to find himself at home among the grime and grit of ground combat and operations. This came only after a baptism of fire on Muunilinst. Seeing and evading death several times over he'd undergone a parabola of exhileration and adrenaline leading up to the battle, himself and Loske Treicolt being beaten to within an inch of their lives only to climb back out with a new found comfort in his capabilities and a confidence to bolster it. It certainly showed in the campaigns since returning, at least he'd hoped it reflected to Din Marren and his fellow Commandos.

Disembarking from the gunship, the Jedi donned in his full battle armor aesthetically styled to his origins on Concord Dawn. A fusing of Mandalorian enforcer and Jedi Guardian. Even if he rarely spoke Mando'a aloud anymore, or postured himself to be a Mandalorian, it was a difficult task to deny where he came from at all. At the very least, he could reflect the nature of the creed in his tenacity and persistence.

<"Takes a little bit more than snatching witches to snag a medal, Dare. But- yeah. I'd rather not tie ourselves up for too long with this. Let's get a move on."> Maynard said, he would know. drawing his own sidearm with a low rasp of metal against the leather of the holster. With a saber at the opposite hip, he didn't care to opt for a main armament, knowing full well he'd be quick to abandon it once they were in the thick of the fighting.

 

[Zahara Myneto]

Location - Thracior, Transport Landing Site
Objective - Peacekeeper
Tags - Adhira Chandra Auteme Astraea Tagge Senator's

Zahara was unexpectedly excited to meet the ambassadors and senators who would be negotiating and meeting the leaders of the planet. Why? It was dream to be a representative and the young Admiral had ultimately choose to do so, after he retired from active duty. But until then, here he was serving as part of the Alliances military presence at the insistence of the government. They believed that by having a high ranking officer present, it would help with...whatever was going on.

"Senator's, may I be the first to welcome you to Thracior. I'm Admiral Myneto and I'll be serving as a member of your guard" he put emphasis on member as if any fighting broke our he was not qualified to lead any type of ground force. Starfighters? Maybe.

After sating that he moved to their side where he held a standard salute to each one of them as a sign of respect.

 

[Republic Engineering]

Objective // One - Infiltrate & Dismantle
Allies // Galactic Alliance.
Enemies // Witch Coven.
Equipment // See Signature.
Complement // Sigma Squad.

​

Gideon’s eyes narrowed as they peered through the viewing ports of his Quadnoculars. The Base was rudimentary by his exacting standards and housed several possible ingress points that their Unit could exploit. While he was confident that these Witches, of some Unknown Coven, believed themselves to be safe within their walls - Sigma Squad would ensure such an illusion would be dispelled. There was a faint smile that peeled across his lips as the quip speared through his thoughts, but soon faded as none but his Comrades in arms would ever hear something so glorious. It was a shame, too, He thought to himself as his Quadnoculars were directed to another target that needed to be marked. If only Gala were here - she might’ve appreciated such a witty remark. Alas. She was elsewhere, and the Lieutenant was stuck here atop the foothills of Thracior - marking out targets for their Strike Force.

While the others, most notably a contingent of Marines, Judicials, and Jedi, moved in to engage the Witches - either arresting those that didn’t want to fight or forcibly subduing those that did - Sigma’s mission was far more detached. It seemed that Command was wary about sending Gideon back into the field after sustaining a significant concussion during a combat drop. They didn’t want him to strain his slowly-recovering mind with the problematic aspects of fighting suspected Force-wielders. If Sigma was permitted to advance into combat, it might’ve been too much for his mind to handle. His failure to act could’ve easily endangered not only the success of the mission but the lives of his Comrades as well.

So, as the Alliance Gunships began arriving - Gideon continued marking targets alongside the other Commandos of Sigma. When, as there was no if, in this scenario, the enemy was engaged, His squad would offer up what support they could by utilizing their weapon’s sniper configuration. They’d take out targets from afar - or cripple those that didn’t provide clean shots. With their attention likely placed on the various infiltrators and combatants before them, much of their kills would be clean sweeps. It was likely they wouldn’t or couldn’t react in time. Such carnage wouldn’t last, however, as some would inevitably get wise and start sticking to cover - but that mattered little. They’d simply be picked off by the Alliance’s boots on the ground.

As the Gunships finally arrived at the appointed landing zone, Gideon shifted his Quadnoculars in that direction. When the blast doors slammed back to reveal the ad-hoc Unit within, the Commando was surprised to see Dare there. Usually, the man would’ve been deployed with the rest of Sigma - but it seems Command decided to assign him to another portion of the mission. He was glad that the man was back in fighting shape after their expedition on Muunilinst, and even more so that Din was taking the fight to this insidious Coven on the frontlines. Several other figures of note disembarked behind the distant Commando, but they didn’t catch the Lieutenant’s interest. Instead, Gideon turned his gaze back towards the rudimentary settlement.

Several targets were out in the open - likely drawn from their hovels due to a disturbance rippling through the enigmatic Force. They were too far away for even the mighty magnification methods of the Quadnoculars to determine the details of their outfits. Still, Gideon assumed that they were adorned in various tribal effigies and smeared with pungent oils or pastes that supposedly enhanced their powers. Such coverings wouldn’t matter much, however, as it was doubtful that they’d be able to stop a magnetically-accelerated round from turning them into an arterial mist.

Thus, as more and more targets were marked and digitally transferred to the Alliance Vanguard, Gideon began assembling his Sniper rifle and readying himself to engage the enemy from afar.

| Din Marren | Maynard Treicolt | Gala Geert | @ Others​

 

[Bernard]

\\ Objective 1, LORD OF LIGHTNING SHIFTS HIS GAZE
\\ Thracior, rendezvous with the Witches
\\ Thematic ~ Nonagon Infinity ~ Track 02 ~ Big Fig Wasp
\\ Team Cresh Maynard Treicolt , Gala Geert , Din Marren , Republic Engineering , @Others

​

The clacking of duraplast armour against the backdrop of a whining engine as a soundscape that conjured uncomfortable memories, compounded by the inescapable proximity to other sentients in the HAAT, it made his otherwise focused demeanour uncertain. All of it reminded him too much of Kuat and the Embrace. Both had been military operations, both ended in disaster for the young arkanian. He'd mostly been avoiding working with other people ever since. The life of an investigator suited him just fine. Crime and corruption were an insidious poison that was far too often left to fester without a proper antidote.

Yet, despite his best efforts, he found himself working with the military again, on behalf of the NJO. A powerful faction of malignant entities had taken root within the spine of Thracior's rulers and turned them into little more than vicious beasts out for Hsni blood.

Another poison that required a remedy, another opportunity to fail. Bernard sighed to expel the thought the moment the HAAT's doors opened. His eyes had to adjust to the conditions outside. While he wasn't afforded the preternatural sight that technology brought, he was still naturally disposed to see quite adeptly under various lighting conditions most humans would find impossible.

With a quiet click, the lightsabre at his side unhooked from his belt. The metal felt good in his hands. It may not have been of his own construction, but he'd bonded with the weapon over the last years. He'd reached a level of comfort with the familiarity of its weight that he at times forgot it was a separate entity entirely. At least he'd have a little reassurance on this mission.

For a few moments, he dwelled on a worthy addition to Maynard and the soldiers' sentiments at the dawn of their mission, if only to better integrate himself into their company, but nothing came to mind. He remained silent as he locked pace with the group, shadowing Maynard's path.

 

[Auteme]

P E A C E K E E P E R S
Adhira Chandra | Astraea Tagge Zahara Myneto ​

Thracior was a curious planet. Ruled by tribes -- human ones, too -- despite being so close to the core. Their culture was crude and barbaric. Their technology was comparatively nonexistent. They'd even been visited by full spacefaring vessels numerous times in the past. Yet still they stayed closed-minded, warring with each other, and basically never leaving the planet.

Was it an adherence tradition, or an inability to adapt? Stoicism, or stubbornness? Were they protecting their culture, or shielding it from change that might hurt the status quo?

The only thing that was sure was that the change had arrived. Of course Auteme felt that the show of force was unnecessary. The Alliance was no empire, nor did it deeply rely on its military to keep away dissenters or fight many active conflicts. The Confederacy surely wouldn't attack the Alliance. If that did happen, well, she wouldn't know what to feel. She wondered if she'd be fired for potential conflict of interest...

Auteme focused instead on the matter at hand, walking alongside and listening to Senator Chandra. Obviously the older woman meant what she said about bringing peace and taking the Core. "This is certainly a sort of peace," she said, watching as Alliance starfighters soared overhead. It simply didn't feel right to bully a society so underdeveloped. Couldn't the Alliance instead spare resources to improve the lives of these people? Then again, planet-wide peace would be a good first step in building a better future. Galactic politics was still not yet her area of expertise; she'd leave the grand planning to the senator.

With the ramp lowered and the stage set, Auteme walked a half-step behind Adhira, stopping when she did. With a formal bow Auteme spoke first, as they'd agreed. "Thank you, Warlord Yag'Dub, for your hospitality. This is Senator Adhira Chandra of the Galactic Alliance, and I am Padawan Auteme."

The warlord sniffed his awfully disproportionate nose. "Wah," he said. Auteme assumed it was some common tongue, but she couldn't entirely be sure.

"I am Wahlord Yag'Dub of the Great Tantt Clan, ordained by the moon and stars and sun and sky." He raised his hands to the heavens to further illustrate his point. Another wing of starfighters flew overhead. Several of his escort seemed to see it as a sign of his power. "We welcome your great power and great machines in hope that they will destroy our enemies and bring peace to our lands." Yag'Dub turned and started towards the settlement behind him, presumably headed to the large hut at the center of it.

Auteme glanced at Adhira, giving a little 'yikes' before following the great Wahlord.

 

[Din Marren]

Objective: 1 - Infiltrate & Dismantle
Allies: Galactic Alliance
Enemies: Witch Coven, TBD
Equipment: See bio. (Assets)
Complement: Maynard Treicolt | Gala Geert | OPEN

Dare can't help but chuckle as Gala's comment takes his thoughts back to the Unity Day celebration. Null had already been a lost cause by the time the Chancellor had announced his name at the ceremony. All Din and the rest of Sigma could do was laugh and toast among themselves to their intoxicated XO's recognition.

<"It earned us some free drinks, at least,"> he answers with a grin. Though, he also can't help but think that it might have been for the best. The very mission he was being awarded for was the one that had him long-faced in the Outlander. One of his men had died.

The Jedi Knight's straight response to his joke straightens the commando a bit, reminding him that not everyone was as casual in combat as the Commandos he was used to serving alongside, or the Caridans he had grown up with. Commander Treicolt had received a Golden Starbird from the Chancellor himself -- the Jedi had apparently gone toe-to-toe with the chieftan of the strange hordes said to be ravaging the south-east of the Galaxy, and he'd even survived the Chaos incursion in the Brentaal system.

Despite hearing about him and seeing him on the viewscreens during the celebration, the Battle of Botor had been the fist time the Caridan met him in person. As far as he was concerned, the Jedi were admirable soldiers who'd earned his respect that day. At least, this new breed of them had. The New Jedi Order. Following behind Maynard on their approach to the pathway down, it felt just like the old war stories they told back home.

<"You really think it'll be as easy as the brass says it'll be, Commander?"> he quips again, eyeing the horizon as the rock faces grow taller <"Call me a pessimist, but I got a feelin' these witches don't wanna be snatched.">

As the team grows closer to the small ravine they'd have to descend at the foot of the the crag, a sudden rumble shakes Dare's footing. He stabilizes himself by quickly widening his stance, and snaps his viperwasp to his shoulder in anticipation of an ambush -- but one doesn't come.

<"The hell was that?"> he asks out loud, keeping his eyes on the 360 FOV feed on his HUD to watch the small group's surroundings.

 

[Shattered_Mirror]

BYOO - Botor Aftermath.

​

There wasn’t much that could’ve been said about the Battle of Botor. While the Navy was stretched thin in that theatre, the Eidolon II found itself beset on all sides by a greater number of hostile warships. However, through shrewd tactics and no small amount of luck - the Heavy Cruiser was able to defeat the numerically superior foe. The Alliance Warship gunned down three of the twelve vessels that sought to sink the Eidolon II, and scattered the rest to the solar winds. Jianna was praised for her part in the battle - having directed her Warship and Crew towards a successful future. However, their duty wasn’t done. With the Pirate fleet scattered at Botor, there was a significant chance they’d regroup in another sector. To that end, the Eidolon II was tasked - with several other Veterans of that Battle - to hunt down any survivors and force them to submit to the Alliance’s authority.

It wasn’t the glamorous duty that she expected, but Jianna was grateful that she’d have something to do - instead of forcing herself to endure yet another bloody wargame. She was raised by warriors and was the daughter of a supposed legend! She didn’t need to learn, nor train herself to be better - when she was already at the top of her game. It was a shame, in her eyes, that Defence Force Command believed she was too prideful and arrogant to earn herself a promotion. Who cared if you peacocked on the battlefield? With a majestic warship like the Eidolon II - the negative impact of emotions were all but meaningless. It was like she said once to an Admiral whose name she subsequently forgot - You can’t fight the tides of Imperialism with cupped hands and harsh language. His reaction was a mixture of shock and acceptance, for the man knew it to be true.

So long as a Commander could keep their thoughts rational, their emotions did little else but flavour their words with some excitement. Naturally, others disagreed with her point of view - but that was of little consequence. She got results, in the end, and that was enough to keep Command happy with her unorthodox style of leadership.

It was with such thoughts racing around her mind that Captain Jianna returned to the Warship’s command deck. She was dressed in her combat uniform and held a steaming cup of ReCaf betwixt her delicate fingers. Sadly, it wasn’t any exotic blend that tingled the senses or inspired any fond memories of home - but the container was filled with steamed caffeine, which would be enough to keep her senses alert. As she was about to take her second sip of the bitter brew, Jianna was accosted by several officers seeking to issue their shift reports. For several long seconds, the Hapan hybrid stared at them with venom in her eyes - showcasing the irritation she felt by being distracted from her steamed energy tonic.

“There are Captains who’ve killed their subordinates for less,” She said seriously at first before taking a sip of her ReCaf. When the Officers recoiled, Jianna burst into a small fit of laughter.

“I’m kidding! Lighten up, will you? We’re hunting Pirates and Malcontents. There’s little need to be so serious and uptight.”​

Some of the Officers saluted after handing off their datapads, whilst the others weren’t so sure how to react. It was likely because they dealt with more battle-hardened Commanders who ran tight ships. They’d adjust, she mused as she took another sip of the rejuvenating potion. When she finally had all of the datapads from her subordinates, Jianna dumped the stack of metallic slates onto the tactical display - and slowly began rifling through their contents.

 

[Gala Geert]

Objective 1 // Thracior // Cresh
Din Marren // Maynard Treicolt // Bernard
Distance: Republic Engineering ​

​

Unlike on Botor, Gala was at least a little appreciative of the Jedi presence this time around. If they were going to be fighting against witches, it'd help to have some wizards on their side. They could cast spells at one another while the soldiers from the different squadrons flanked and fired.

Din eagerly engaged the Force soaked Commander, filling their audio with chatter that wasn't directly related to the mission. It was above her paygrade to grumble about it, so she dialled the volume down and kept her focus strained elsewhere.

It wasn't until a startled question filled her ears did she start paying attention once again. Behind the visor, her gaze darted about their immediate surroundings but saw nothing but nature and random binary summaries about distances and threat levels reported from her HUD.

She was about to reply when an amethyst coloured vapour rose around their feet. The smoke spiralling upward as the first and only indicator that the steep ground beneath them was about to no longer exist.

<Wha--!> was all she managed before barking out in surprise as the solidness gave way to nothingness, accelerating the team's descent to the ravine's waters below. Any rock they'd been standing on evaporated by the incantations whispered from a concealed distance and rolled down or no longer existed as mass. Gravity took over from there, and Gala started to tumble down the remaining cliffside with little foreseeable opportunity to stop.

Except she had a jetpack as part of her armour.

Frantically, she slapped her hand against the wrist-mounted device that would activate the turbines that repelled the dust and dirst against her beck. Within seconds, she was jolted upwards and exhaled an uncomfortable hurk! at the impact.

 

[Elani Demaris]

T H E . R U I N S . O F . V A N G T A P A L
S U R F A C E . O F . T H R A C I O R
O B J E C T I V E . T H R E E
​

The air was as cold as a tauntaun's balls. It seemed at some point in the distant past, the ceiling had caved in, exposing the cavern to the elemental ravages of Thracior's frozen north. Allowing the once daunting domed City of Vangtapal to become little more than a frozen wasteland. Piled over by generation upon generation's worth of snow, it was almost indistinguishable from the surrounding broken mountain reaches. It was kind of beautiful in a desolate sort of way. Untamed, wild and...

Uncharted.

At least, that was what the half-crazed merchant had told her whilst he conned her out of her credits. His eyes wild, unfocused and the same yellow as his teeth as he ranted and raved about the lost wonders and ancient relics the fabled city of Vangtapal were purported to have contained. Scriptures of the Dai Bendu, treasures from Xim's Empire, even a supposed false ark of Baron Auletphant. His fingers, gnarled and twisted from exposure from the addictive narrag root, clutching at her arm with one hand, all but thrusting the map into her hands with a needy greed.

She hadn't brought his lies for a second, yet she couldn't say the same about the map. Even if it had proved to be false, and up until a few moments ago she truly had thought that was the case, the young Jedi could smell a tale to be told. Of an adventure to be had off the beaten path. Warriors needed war, politicians needed adoration, while explorers like herself...

This, this right here, this was why she had become a Jedi.

Flush with newfound excitement, Danae breathed new life into her cupped hands and stamped her boots, trying to work a little warmth back into her extremities now that her destination was insight. Her little probe droid wheedled a song in binary as it floated around her in a loose semi-circle before darting off across the rocky tundra. Eagerly blazing a path as it attempted to find an entrance into the city. The song changing pitch and tune as it attempted to hurry her along in its wake. She snorted dismissively, pulling her scarf up to protect against the icy winds.

"Aye, ye daft bugger. Ah'ma comin', ah'ma comin'. Jus' ye worry about findin' me a way in, eh?"

 

[Republic Engineering]

Objective // One - Infiltrate & Dismantle
Allies // Galactic Alliance.
Enemies // Witch Coven.
Equipment // See Signature.
Complement // Sigma Squad.

​

As the magnetic accelerator was fitted into place, Gideon felt a small measure of pride echo through his core. It had been quite some time since he utilized his weapon’s sniper configuration. Hell, the man preferred it’s standard loadout because of its adaptability on the battlefield. Not only could the particle beams tear through armoured infantry, but it could effectively shoot down saber-jockey’s too. That was a welcome addition to Gideon’s armoury, especially with the high concentration of Force-wielders populating the Galaxy. Now, all he needed to worry about was their mastery over that enigmatic energy field, rather than the stick of molten plasma being thrown his way.

However, all of that went out the window when the Viperwasp was modified with its magnetic accelerator. The Sniper configuration held little use inside the ever-shifting throes of combat, especially within the confines of an urban environment, and relied heavily on advantageous positions to eliminate any opposition. Sure, the weapon was powerful enough to turn lightly armoured targets into crimson mist - but the weapon became entirely precision-based and would heavily lean on someone’s luck if it was used in close-quarters.

Thankfully, none of that mattered here. Sigma Squad held the high ground and was entrenched at a location that offered them a commanding view of the battlefield. Thus, they’d be free to utilize the extreme lethality of their precision-based weapons without encountering any of the drawbacks that came from urban combat.

When the weapon was complete, it thrummed with whisper-quiet energies and greedily accepted the cartridge of quarrels that the Commando slammed into the auxiliary housing module. These were standard ferromagnetic rounds. Nothing fancy, by any means, but it would be enough to get the job done. Gideon scoffed at the idea of bringing anything more substantial to this engagement. It wouldn’t matter what he shot these Witches with, as anything that was magnetically accelerated to speeds that threatened to break the sound barrier would turn anyone to jelly.

Hell, for all he cared - Sigma Squad could’ve loaded his weapon with Utensils stolen from the Ship’s Mess Hall, and it would’ve still resulted in the same outcome.

Such thoughts were thrown aside as the voices of the taskforce filtered in through his Helmet. It seemed like the Green-skinned woman was assigned to this mission. Which meant there was a possibility of him momentarily entertaining her with his witty commentary. But, that fond moment of opportunity was soon drowned out by the sudden alarm racing through the ad-hoc Group. They were advancing towards a steep ravine that was shrouded by violet mist. Even so far away from where the action was taking place - that convincing illusion affected Gideon’s addled mind. However, he let out a small sigh of relief as the Group marginally recovered in their own way.

Perhaps, he mused, there would be another time to trade witty banter with the warrior woman. Until then? The man had a job to do, and he needed to focus. What made matters worse, however, was that he couldn’t activate his armour’s integrated defences against mentalism - thus, Gideon was far more susceptible to illusions than ever before. For all he knew - those blasted Witches could’ve played on the secret notion of affection he held for that woman and sought to play games with his head.

They could’ve even been warping his thoughts - which were initially nothing more than admiration and respect for Gala - into something more than they should’ve been.

It was starting to become challenging to discern what was what now...​

| Din Marren | Maynard Treicolt | Gala Geert | Bernard |​

 

[Aston Jacobs]

Objective: Peacekeeping
Auteme Adhira Chandra Astraea Tagge Zahara Myneto

Attempting to find a peaceful solution was something that the senators were handling here. Aston was simply along for the ride as he opted to assist in escorting Senator Adhira to the location of the meeting with Warlord Yag'dub. While he wasn't necessarily needed here, as the company had plenty of protection that Lieutenant Astraea, Padawan Auteme and Admiral Myneto offered as well as the escort of the marines under Astraea's command. However one more person couldn't hurt and it wasn't like Aston was doing anything of any particular importance anyway. Aston chuckled as he kicked the dirt a bit once his feet touched the ground.

"Love the place already, nice and peaceful." Aston said in a joking manner as he moved past the marines to catch up with the main party. It reminded him of Tatooine just a bit, perhaps worse.....then again maybe not. He'd only been here for a few minutes so he couldn't exactly pass judgment yet. Given what he had heard of the situation and of the planet thus far it was a close one.

He caught up to the senator and her party and gave a respectful bow of his head. "Forgive my tardiness Senator, I'm here to assist in anyway I can. The name is Aston Jacobs." He said easily enough as he nodded to the rest of the group. Aston felt more formal introductions could come later, right now it seemed there was business to attend to as he stood of to the side just in time for the greeting with the warlord. He preformed his little dance to the heavens and Aston glanced up slowly before casting a glance at the rest of them. "That's interesting." Aston whispered as the delegation proceeded.

 

[Astraea Tagge]

Location: Thracior, The ASV Regal
Objective: Peacekeepers - Protect the GA Diplomats
Focus: Adhira Chandra ll Auteme ll Zahara Myneto ll Aston Jacobs

When the marines finally came to a halt at the bottom of the ramp, the lieutenant gave a respectful distance to the diplomatic envoys without losing her threatening presence. Her dark eyes gave the newly appeared admiral a once over before she respectfully gave him a salute and stepped forward to shake his hand. As far as she knew, the Alliance had put her in command of this mission. "Admiral, sir, I have been placed in command of this mission, but I thank you for your assistance," her tone was dry and absent of any genuine thanks.

Immediately after explaining the circumstances she fell in behind Adhira who was being introduced to the... unsettlingly spindly chieftain of the Tantt Tribe. She noted his shootable face and grimaced. His name was Yug'Dab and he had recently replaced the leader of the Tantt, Iola Ecin, though according to the mission brief this had happened under mysterious circumstances. Nearby were two women in dark garb who hid their faces. They gave Astraea an eery feeling.

It was about that time the final member of the protective entourage arrived... Aston Jacobs . Astraea glared at him over her shoulder. "You're late," her tone may have been mistaken for a jibe if she weren't glaring so seriously, "fall in." She returned her attention forward as the warlord led them toward the clearing where the diplomatic negotiations were to take place. A smaller squad of troops departed from the ceremonial company to escort them.

 

[Adhira Chandra]

Location: Thracior
Escort: 78th Company of the Galactic Alliance Marines
Objective: Achieve lasting peace on Thracior
Theme: Dominion Over Thracior
Focus: Auteme ll Astraea Tagge ll Zahara Myneto ll Aston Jacobs

​

Adhira smiled mildly at the warlord as she was introduced by the representative of the Chancellor's office. Auteme had grown into a clever young woman with a nose for politics as it turned out. The old stateswoman was quite happy she'd advised the girl so long ago on how to behave while in the limelight. As the warlord stepped forward to introduce himself dramatically to her, she politely ignored those around her, gently clasping her hands in front of her.​

​

"We thank you for your hospitality, Chieftain," Adhira cast an uncertain glance around the faces of the Tantt tribe, "It was my understanding that Hsni Chieftainess, Hem Ydal would be meeting us here?" It would not have made for very effective peace talks if the leader of the second largest clan was not present. The warlord looked taken aback by the question and gently "waaaaahed" at her.​

​

"WAAAH! Yes, Chietaness Ydal will meet us in the clearing... we do not fraternize with the...waaah.... Hsni" ​

​

Adhira glanced over her shoulder at Auteme, uncertain of what to make of the man and his explanation, but she supposed they had no choice. Her escort gave a signal and roughly 10 soldiers detached from the regiment to form up around her and began to walk in step with the group. A few feet away from the landing sight a massive hut loomed in a clearing. As they approached, the Senator of Balmorra noticed that the other tribe had indeed gathered to greet them, but when they were almost within range the warlord stopped and turned abruptly to face her which alarmed her guards.​

​

But, he was not turning to pose a threat... instead he broke out in an elaborate dance and was joined by several of his own clansmen.​

The dance, coupled with a series of loud "wahhhs" lasted for several minutes before the tall man stopped suddenly. There was a moment of hesitation, but Adhira began to clap politely, nudging the others in her company to do the same. When enough polite claps had been given to sate the ego of the purple-clad warlord, Adhira cleared her throat. "Again, thank you for such a... delightful display of your planet's unique culture... now... ah... Chieftainess Ydal, it is good to see you," she was relieved that the other tribe had approached to greet her and prayed quietly that they too had not prepared a performance.​

​

"Your most regal excellency. Hsni thanks you for your audience."​

​

"Yes, well... shall we proceed? We have prepared the terms for this peace agreement and would like to review them with you both," Adhira glanced at Auteme who held the plans and held her hand out to the large hut before them. The two warlords walked with Adhira and her escort inside and sat at a central table that had been prepared for discussions. Suspiciously, Adhira noted that none of the warlord's guards followed him inside but two dark-clad women did. She wondered if these were the witches that Galactic Intelligence had discovered and soon began to consider when to confront them with that evidence.​

 

[Warchief Waddles]

Nar Shaddaa
Isaiah’s Dwelling
BYOO​

The sound of static filled the air, bolts of violet illuminated the darkness. In its glow stood two figures, one a white-haired man who held a weapon the color of a summer sky. The other an Atrisian who lay on the floor. From their hands spat the force with venom and hatred that sought to eat away at the figure that stood above them. Strain was evident on both their faces, wounds littered both of their bodies. The scene shifted, now the Jedi was missing an arm yet was baring down on his seemingly defeated foe. Raising the blade of judgment the Jedi stared down, hair wild, eyes alight with the fires of a righteous fury he brought down the blade, but was stopped as another sprouted from his chest.

“Noooooo!” Jerking awake in the darkness, a sheen of sweat coating his body, Isaiah took in his surroundings. The room he rested in little more than a hovel, a one-bedroom apartment that was barely furnished. The faint scent of mold lingered in the air, a musky scent that had permeated the place since Isaiah had moved in.

Resting next to the man was a togrutan woman that retained what bit of modesty she had using a quilt. Looking over and past the woman, the one-time Mandalorian looked out the window and across the cityscape that was Nar Shaddaa. A planet that was the cesspit of the galaxy, where only the most hated, vilest, insidious individuals came to live. There was always work to be found, whether for the Hutts or other rising criminal cartels. Groaning, the warrior rose up slowly from his bed.

The sound of clinking bottles could be heard as the exiles feet touched the ground knocking over a few larger ones, and even a few smaller vials that still had trace amounts of crimson and emerald liquids. Pain radiated through Isaiah’s skull as though someone had cleaved into it with an axe meant for a mythosaur. Rubbing at his temples the man stumbled away and into the small bathroom, having to turn himself sideways to fit through the doorway.

First looking down into the sink, Isaiah fought against the weight of his body to raise his head up and stare into the mirror. His face unshaven for what seemed like months, what had once been a neat haircut, now messed, bloodshot eyes stared back.

Before he could do anything else there was a faint thudding coming from the door. Head jerking, now fully alert the man crept through his abode. As he passed his nightstand, Isaiah picked up a slugthrower pistol. Flipping the weapon, and ejecting the magazine, he checked the ammo. Only three bullets, it would have to work.

Walking up to the door, Isaiah opened it. Standing nearly a head shorter than Isaiah was a twi’lek woman who held a package in her arms. The woman’s eyes widened as she looked at the behemoth that filled the doorway, the result of years of a warriors lifestyle. Seemingly stunned into silence she said nothing.

“Well, what the fuck is it?” Isaiah asked in a clipped Corascanti accent that didn’t seem to fit the man at all.

“I-I’ve. No, you’ve got a delivery sir. It arrived a week ago, but no one could find you.”

Despite it being Nar Shaddaa, Isaiah had no intentions on displaying his weapon. Shoving it into the waistband of his underwear, he stretched out to take the box. “Yea, I'll be sure to leave a note next time.”

With that the exile slammed the door in the woman’s face walking to a nearby table. “What the fuck?! No tip?!” The twi’lek screamed from the hall before slamming against the door one last time. The sound of her footsteps audible.

Standing in his kitchen, Isaiah felt something he hadn’t felt in years since he’d left the Jedi, since he’d been exiled from the Mandalorians. He felt a presence on the package, one almost like a brother.

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

// OUTRIDER //
// OBJECTIVE // Infiltrate & Dismantle
// THEMATIC // Nonagon Infinity // Track 3 // Gamma Knife
// FOCUS // Din Marren | Gala Geert | Republic Engineering | Bernard

<"Well- in all fairness, Dare. No one ever wants to be snatched. Shouldn't be too bad though. These round up expeditionary campaigns are rarely too much trouble."> The Commander replied. It was odd that his own tone was dipped in shades more serious than the commandos and operatives at his side. It was a far cry from the Mandalorian spacer who appeared at Peace. Easy going, light hearted. But he'd also seen his fair share of troubles that wore that side of him down. Life hadn't been easy then, but it hadn't gotten easier since. Though, for much different reasons. He had most everything he could ask for even if it was coupled with a score more responsibilities to tangle with.

Then he felt that disturbance. There wasn't much of an advantage he had over Gala and Din when he felt it. Perhaps he wasn't the man to bank on for 'wizard' abilities. Of all the Jedi within the Alliance's order, force mastery was not Maynard's strong suit. Matter of fact, it was easily one of his weakest. He'd proven adept in learning some abilities, honing some sense of them. But he still struggled with the foundational principles of it all, only willing the force to his aid when he absolutely needed it and was rarely able to hold it as a reliable ally otherwise. He'd cut himself off from it for nearly a decade after all.

Gala and Din were hopefully primed to be disappointed.

It had caught him by surprise as well, except if the force helped him at all here, it was to keep note of his position relative to anything else and save his footing when the ground trembled and the group began their descent into the ravine beneath. Letting his body flow with the fall he dug his fingers into the rock face, using the enhanced strength and grip of his crushgaunts to control the speed of his descent by clawing his digits into the rock until finally they hit even ground again.

<"How we looking? We alright?"> Maynard said, instantly moving to appraise the status of his comrades.

<"We might not have the drop on them anymore..."> The Knight remarked, more to himself than anyone else. Patching through to Republic Engineering he transmitted through the comms once more.

<"Null - eyes on what might've caused that? We clear to proceed?"> Maynard inquired, seeking out Sigma's position on his visual scanners.