Dominion Far From Any Road | Reclamation of Concord Dawn | NIO

[Waymar Dathrohan]

T K - 1 2 7
99th STORMTROOPER LEGION
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
Storm UCP | SRK-65 Carbine | AP-25i 'SIMP' Blaster | Grenades
Noel Strasza | Loske Treicolt

The insurgent troops began to close the gap and advance on the New Imperial troopers and soon enough, it was now or never. I grasped ahold of the thermal detonator even tighter in my hand before wrenching down on the activation charge of the explosive, standing up and pointing up into the air with my flat arm before heaving the detonator in the direction of the Landspeeder.

<"Thermal out!"> I shouted, I kept great form with what we were taught in basic as the way to throw detonators, in my opinion at least before going back behind cover. I heard the initial fragmentation blast as it rattled in the bed of the landspeeder, sending it alight in the middle of the street. However, I let two of the insurgents pass me, toward Strasza's spot. Regardless, I took up my carbine again and took the first rounds down range all day, aiming down the sights and hitting center mass on one with a three round pulse, knocking him down. Dead.

 

[Grey Rusken]

I CHOOSE VIOLENCE

OBJ | RUSTY CAGE | BYOO

LET THE DEATH BEGIN

Ripped and torn, buried down in the blood and ink-like void
What is a man to do, when all semblance of life is destroyed?
Carry forward, carry on
Spill their world across your canvas, drink of their dreams and ambitions.
When all light is gone, become the dark itself.

​

"//MISSION DATA ANALYSIS - - - BREACH AND CLEAR + MURDER
VIOLENCE IS THE OPTIMAL SOLUTION!
SUGGESTION: SCATTERGUN LOADOUT + SLUG ROUNDS
TACTICAL OPTIONS: STAY INDOORS + DRAW OUT OPFOR
ADDENDUM: STOP SCREWING AROUND, GREY.//"

"Geez, you're moody today, NIC." Chaos unfurled itself around Grey as he crouched behind cover, inspecting his gear and arming himself for the situation. "There are a significant number of casualties down in the street. Did you remember the optics, Grey?"

"Yep. Fitting them now. Say, are you okay? You've been on edge lately."
"Now you ask? Every mission, Grey, every damn mission you do what YOU want. You become aloof and distance from any of your supposed squad mates. Ever since you've come back-"
"No, you listen to me. You don't understand a fucking thing about where I came back from. I've kept my mouth shut, but now you need to stop. Shut the hell up."
"Disengaging. You'll need a manual reset to reinitialize me. Don't die... again."
"NIC? You there? Fuck."

Blaster bolts peppered the other side of Grey's cover, heat dissipating through the duracrete. A multitude of footfalls resonated throughout the multistory building, all of them seemingly headed towards Grey as he stood and leveled his scattergun with the doorway opposite of him. "Hmmmm." Holding his scattergun with one hand momentarily, he produced a thermal detonator from a pouch on his rig, tossing it out of the room.

"GRENADE!" A totally unfamiliar voice shrieked, followed by a gust of flame and debris.

A slight smirk began to form underneath Grey's mask.

 

[DECEASED Aron Gowrie]

I
GALIDRAANI FREE-STATE

Objective 1: RUSTY CAGE

Location: CONCORD DAWN

Allies: Loske Treicolt Grey Rusken Noel Strasza Tavish Steiger
Don Belkora Djorn Bline Izoshi

THE WILDCAT I

'Awrite, Ginge! Let's get busy, shall we?'

<"Ready when you are, Milord. ACV Three out!">

Like a roaring crescendo of violence, the engines of all the Stormchaser's vehicles from the Stygian campaign came to life, followed by the low rumble of moving Cataphracts as they led the formation in their movement towards the outlying regions. Sith-remnants and the Monterey Circle awaited, yet Gowrie advised Barran that all they would need for this outing was an unbloodied, untested battalion of AFV and tank crews. Lord Aron had been quite annoyed that he wouldn't get to face the Mongrel again until Lord Erskine had faced him first, but had made good use of his right to put the onus of acquiescence on his Lord-Commander, so the request for limited troop-numbers on his first proper solo-command would be accepted either way, though the Woad had grumbled his clear disapproval for hours afterwards.

Despite the begrudging acceptance, Gowrie would be left alone to his devices, forging his own path as a Free-State commander whilst Barran headed off to Ilum to have his duel with the Mongrel. Concord Dawn was always going to end up in New Imperial hands, and to have the power to assume such and to act on said assumptions, was a promising sign that fortune was finally smiling on Tavlar's budding Felist empire, a sign that instilled enough self-confidence in the Tuath that he felt he could let his ambition ascend his military career to the next level. Left to his own devices, left to achieve deeds that would become his own to retell, Lord Aron was finally in the same position Barran had been in, almost two years, to the day, after the Stormchaser himself first stepped up to achieve New-Imperial excellence.

"If the light shines on your ascent, illuminating astride and beyond you with equal intensity, there is no discernible need to stare right intae it. No sensible warrior would be blinded by their own empowerment, nor would any friend of mine". Aye, that'll keep the ego in check anyways. Fair play, Thrast. Fair play....
​

​

 

[Lucien Dooku]

HARLAN // CONCORD DAWN
Vibes | Maynard Treicolt | Drip

---

---

"I get that feelin', brother." He chimed back, sauntering across to a nearby boulder and sitting down on it lazily. With his eyes focused towards the horizon, Lucien rested a fist against his cheek, watching the occasional squadron of fighters cut across the Concordian skies.

He turned an eye towards Maynard for a moment, listening to his words as a friend should and not the Imperial delegate that he should've been. "You know-- the Order isn't all that different from the Alliance." He spoke up after a good while of listening, leaning back against the boulder with shut eyes and a relaxed expression. "You'll probably find more stiffnecked assholes than you'll like within the echelons of the Order, but it's not all that bad as the anti-Imperial groups try to make out."

He shrugged, coming to a pause. "The galaxy is a messed up place regardless of who runs the show. At least the old man gives us the authority to govern our worlds how we please-- however that may be."
​

​

 

[Iago Zacarias]

H U N T E R
​

He switched out his scattergun for his rifle, one that with particle beams that posed as a threat to even the well armored soldiers. Including Mandalorians. Even a Jedi and their lightsaber were no match to such deadly and amazing technology. Both the Mandalorian and Dagorn fired their shots at each other, Dagorn steadying himself for an accurate shot while moving around to avoid the fire from his prey.

And there, a direct hit.

The Mandalorian lost control his maneuvers, landing into the ground with the jetpack scrapping him through the dirt.

"At least you fell in sssssstle, unlike the decline of your culture," talking to himself as he mused, approaching the Mandalorian.

"I'll be sssssure to mount your head on my wall without your helmet."

There was still fight left in the Mandalorian as the grass was ablaze in fire, fire from the flamethrower on the Mandalorian's vambrace.

"Only delaying the inevitable," although it was a nuisance as the fire grew and grew.

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

T H E _ W O L F
PROTECTOR OF CONCORD DAWN
ARMOR | LIGHTSABER | PISTOL
Lucien Dooku ​

---

---

---

"That's what I hear. I took a trip to Bastion, after ya'll took it. There was definitely that... air of authority but...life was fine, for most all the people I saw. And its not like the Alliance doesn't have its share of folk with sticks up their ass either. People are the same most anywhere." Maynard admitted.

"I won't create problems with them so long as they do the same by me." Maynard offered in return to Lucien. And that was true. Imperialism wasn't the life Maynard ever sought to subscribe to, but hell, they seemed to protect their people here, unlike whatever the Sith did.

"But there's still a lot of fixing...and a lot of fighting that needs to be done on Dawn. None of this comes easy, nothing here does. I don't want to ask for New Imperial lives to do the job for me but...if we don't do what needs to be done soon enough, this planet is lost for a long while." Maynard admitted.

 

[Djonas Val]

OBJ 1

Without so much as a glance, he stepped over the body with the gaping wound that had cleaved down through the shoulder.

As soon as his boot touched the ground, he propelled himself forwards with the Force. The minute enhancement pushing him to speeds greater than the Monterey Circles could process.

A stab here, a Force push there. Bodies crumpled wherever he stepped.

Flourishing with his blade, a bolt that drew too close to his features was batted away, right back to where it came. With fewer and fewer opponents, the storm of fire quickly began to die down. The invasive scent of charred flesh and tibanna filled the warehouse. Save for the groans of pain of the few survivors, it was all but silent.

Depressing the ignition button of his saber, Djonas' ready stance straightened as the saber vanished into his hilt. Glancing down at himself, he eyed the scorch marks, tugging his black cloak from its place hanging behind him, he eyed the seared holes in the fabric before releasing the tattered cloak.

"Mm," he hummed as he eyed the scene around him. Raising his wrist up to his mouth, the wrist display came to life as his comm opened. "Warehouse in Quadrant 15-F clear. Send in clean up crew." Dropping his arm, Djonas walked towards blown open doorway. Twisting his head to the side, he eyed one one of the stirring bodies on the ground.

A Mandalorian. One of Moxla's from the looks of it.

Unclipping his hilt from his belt, he pointed the emitter down at the head of the struggling man. His gaze flickered to the severed arm, and then the silver beam shot downwards to meet the helmeted warrior. With an unwavering gaze, he watched, and as soon as the beskar gave, the blade dissipated, retreating back into the home provided by its blade emitters.

They may have been enemies, but once they had fought on the side of the Order. A warriors death is what they sought, and so they would receive it.

Outside, he could already hear the repulsorlifts activating as the dropships came in for their landings. On to the next sector.

 

[Wallace Paxxus]

RUSTY CAGE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
STEAMBREATHER

Super-condensed tibanna ate through the atmosphere, colliding with plasteel and reducing insurgent grey matter heated gelatin. Wallace's gloved hand pulled the bolt handle toward him and replaced the tibanna canister. Metal chimed harshly into place once pressed forward.

A lone cigarra was flicked into a patch of sand, fumes liberating themselves from his lungs as an eye came back up toward the scope. Digital receptacle relayed the aftermath of a thermal detonator splayed across the dirt. At the rhythm of a marching song, Wallace's index finger tapped against the side of the trigger guard as he scanned around the field.

Rangefinder numbers shifted, ticking up and down rapidly as the crosshair passed over objects, terrain, and corpses. The sun glaring of something upon a high ledge caught his attention. Some nebulous, precognitive sense of danger twinged at his fight or flight instincts. Wallace ducked down, tucking a hand over the back of his head just in time to hear, feel, and smell a single shot pass right over him.

Adrenaline sped his breathing. After a moment gathering spatial recollection on where he'd seen the glare, he began a slow scoot toward his left. Several feet later he sucked in a big breath, popped up with his rife, aimed, fired. A half-second later, the glare disappeared and overwatch chattered a kill confirm into his ear.

Another cigarra wouldn't hurt right about now.

 

[Hans Rennagen]

Dark as a Dungeon
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
IMPERIAL KNIGHTS
|OPEN|

​

As the two sides fought in the close quarters, with the gunfight quickly devolving into a melee, Hans rushed after the Unionist leader. As he neared, her gauntlets lit up with a burst of flame directed at him. His shield covered him and parted the flames as he continued to move in on her. As the stream of fire subsided, she lunged forward to meet him with beskar wrist blades, holding them above her as he slashed his saber down.

Their blades locked, one pushing down and one pushing up. He looked into her t-visor, and sensed anger behind it. A zealous anger, not unlike the same he often felt fighting against the Sith. To think that the New Imperial Order who shared the same age old enemy with the Mandalorians could now be treated the same way.

As Hans pushed the lightsaber inches away from her helmet, she delivered a quick kick to his ankle, releasing the pressure on her. Hans delivered a hard push through the force in return as he stumbled. The women was flung backwards into crates and fell to the floor. Before she could get up, Hans rushed over and pointed his saber down at her.

"You're under arrest. Call off your men. This Beskar belongs to the New Imperial Order."

 

[Lucien Dooku]

HARLAN // CONCORD DAWN
Vibes | Maynard Treicolt | Drip

---

---

"Not askin' for help when you need it is just that Jedi hubris still radiatin' off your ass. It's partially why I avoided Jedi from the Core like the plague." Luc slammed back, interjecting just long enough to get what he wanted to say out before his friend continued on.

"I don't care what the brass has to say about Concord Dawn and its problems. Just like Ryv, you're one of the few people I consider a friend. A brother even, that I regret not being able to chill with more often like this."

The circumstances weren't ideal, but it was a cool breezy day from where the two of them were located. With the wind against his face and a relatively comfortable rock against his back, it was lining up to be one of the easiest missions he'd undergone in a very long time. Well, he was still supposed to bring the former Jedi General to their side, but Luc wasn't about to grease him up too much, on account of the brotherhood the two shared.

"This whole sector where the Mandalorians call their home is... screwed, to put it bluntly. Has been for a while. For whatever reason it's within our interest to stabilize it if possible, so, I wouldn't worry about seeking our aid. You've fought alongside us more than enough to have a few favors to cash in on, y'know?"

He opened one eye, shifting his gaze across to the Concordian with a smirk. "And I wouldn't be a half-decent friend if I didn't offer my aid to the Concordians in their time of need."


​

​

 

[DECEASED Aron Gowrie]

II
GALIDRAANI FREE-STATE

Objective 1: RUSTY CAGE

Location: CONCORD DAWN

Allies: Loske Treicolt Grey Rusken Noel Strasza @Taviish Steiger
Wallace Paxxus Djorn Bline Don Belkora Izoshi

<"Reed to Blue-Heart Bravo! We've got multiple choke-points giving stiff-resistance with obsolete rocket from within the 3km mark. Time for smoothbore sniping by chance, Milord?">

'Aye, time it is! Spread the static-line out! You know how this song an' dance goes! Blue-Heart Bravo out!'

moving into once-populated territories, it didn't take long for the Blue-Heart column to find opposition as they churned up the mud beneath with their tank tracks and giant tyres alike, and when the first rockets began careening towards their positions, the Cataphracts to the front had sent up what looked like a wall of flares to throw the enemy ordnance, and the trajectory their engineers had sent them on, into complete, swirling disarray. Obsolete didn't come close to describing the ineptitude of the enemy rockets, but the Tuath-born Major had no time for such distracting trains of thought, and would actively keep his eyes glued to the ACV's map-holographic display in an effort to keep such useless thought-diversions firmly in the back of his mind.
​

​

 

[Izoshi]

M A L W A R E
W I D O W M A K E R
// BLOW-IT-UP \\
Don Belkora

"Mmm," as she hummed the note of consideration the familiar holographic cyan painted itself across her left eye, flicking from one pane to the next as she swept through her information, "beyond the- wait." The chiss paused, shuffling back out of the line of sight from the street and produced her datapad directly, swiping her finger across the screen, "Someone did the heavy lifting for us actually, yes. How delightful. Should be, let's see, we're here..." she thought aloud as she repositioned the screen's view of their overhead position, "four buildings down and on the right. Walls- damaged but standing, still. The shipments were gathered and distributed out from there- breadcrumb trailhead."

She tucked her tech away and dusted off the blaster in her hands, moving right back into stride and down the street- slinking along the periphery of the path to avoid any stray fire screeching from mere blocks away.

"I suspect we may just be able to sneak through the back door, given the absolute chaos just over the way."​

​

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

T H E _ W O L F
PROTECTOR OF CONCORD DAWN
ARMOR | LIGHTSABER | PISTOL
Lucien Dooku ​

---

---

---

"I know what you mean. I didn’t much fit with the Jedi the first time, or the second time. Whatever there is here, I know I fit. But hell- that’s a lot of what these Imps are, huh. Lotta people exiled and kicked out of everywhere else. I guess I fit in better than I’d ever wanted to.” Maynard remarks, offering out a low sigh.

“You ever run into my cousin, Waylon? He served in the New Imperial Army...loved every second of it, he told me. Died on Bastion, last words he wanted to be buried beneath a Concord Sunset. He was fighting for home, figured the Imps were a good bet in doing that. So- I won’t do wrong by him. If the New Order will help us, I’ll oblige. But- you’re gonna have to help me get some of the ropes down of all this, good to have someone I trust backing me up out here, that's for sure." Maynard admitted, offering the fellow wayward spacer a smile. Not much longer and he might be able to call himself Protector of Concord Dawn and its people, beneath the Iron Sun or not, this was a far better option than his people being left to the sharks of the Galaxy, left to the carrions to be feasted on as the Mandalorians and their adjacent subjects had been for the better part of a decade now.

"Plus- if Auteme herself can handle your Imp ways I think we should be just fine around here. Concord Dawn is back." Maynard says, proudly.

 

[Noel Strasza]

O B S C E N I T Y
W A R M A C H I N E
OBJ | RUSTY CAGE
// Tavish Steiger \\

Pinned down, Strasza cursed beneath her breath, keeping a close watch for signs of movement. She knew the tactic well enough and it would only be a matter of time before roamers came to finish the job. Of course, what they didn't know was in close-quarters, she had every advantage possible- that's what she was built for, after all. A tilt of her boxy helmet caught a better glimpse of the shuffle on the roof quite the distance away. She had a narrow window to move and it would be a hefty price to pay should she miss it. The cyborg hugged her rifle close to her chest and launched herself to her feet, dashing across the plaza to slide around the corner, changing her position.

And it was about that time the droid socketed into her shoulder whirred in alarm to the approaching soldiers scattered by her comrade's explosive counteroffensive. The Major slung her rifle onto her shoulder and poised to strike, shoving back the damaged cloak half-draped over her body to expose the unarmored, cybernetic limb beneath. Quietly, machinery shuffled and rearranged itself, making room for the lengthy blade hidden within the confines of her forearm to slide from its nest and lock into place. Electricity crackled through it, charging the air with an eerie stillness.

Three paces. Two. One.

With a grunt, she thrust herself from her position and slammed into the foe closest, smashing the armored frame to the ground with her unnatural strength alone- thrashing him with a heavy vice grip around the arm. She lunged for the second, still holding the first, stabbing at him with the wicked blade until she felt armor part and flesh pierce beneath the pressure. Blood crackled along the edge of the weapon as it was torn outward, severing sinew from bone and fraying muscle apart with surgical precision. This, she paid little mind to, and thrust the blade downward, puncturing through the grappled enemy's collar and straight into his ribcage.

By the time she was done, their foe was two lesser.

<"Still with me?"> her voice crackled across the link and she retracted her blade, darting to rendezvous with her squad once more.​

 

[Don Belkora]

CONCORD_DAWN_
DON 'BANDIT' BELKORA
COMPNOR
Tags: Izoshi

"Beats running in the front, I suppose," he remarked back, following the Chiss's lead as the pair once more descended down the Concord Dawn streets. Being careful as to not trip over any debris or corpses as he ran, the pair passed several charred corpses that doted the streets, whose corpses they were was anyone's guess, but he was glad he wasn't one of them.

Eventually, they found their way to the back exit, seemingly unguarded like the front but far less damaged than the rest of the complex. Maybe they left in a hurry? It was anyone's guess, really. He would be glad if it was a simple grab and dash.


"Ladies first, try and not get us caught when you enter?"​

​

 

[Waymar Dathrohan]

T K - 1 2 7
99th STORMTROOPER LEGION
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
Storm UCP | SRK-65 Carbine | AP-25i 'SIMP' Blaster | Grenades
Noel Strasza | Loske Treicolt

The gruesome sounds of Strasza's slaying were audible even through the chaos of this street corner. With interlocking fields of fire and the Stormtroopers able to clear out the enveloping buildings, the blaster fire within the local vicinity of this district of Harvest waned into nothing. They'd cleared it. Steiger looked the way of the cybernetic woman, offering a nod before letting his rifle hang over his chest attached to its sling.

With the New Imperial Army's take, hold and build approach, the city wouldn't take much longer to clear, even if it meant stormtroopers occupying the streets for sometime, but this was a helluva first step.

<"We're good. Section Echo is clear."> Tavish said, hit by the blaster but still upright. He'd see a corpsman soon enough to evaluate damages but mostly, he was just glad to sustain a wound and stand up afterward. It was the first of his short career in the Corps to this point.

Hopefully, if he was hit again, he'd stand up.

 

[Izoshi]

M A L W A R E
W I D O W M A K E R
// BLOW-IT-UP \\
Don Belkora

The chiss slithered over the debris, fluttering gloved fingers over the screen and keypad planted next to the door. She glanced about, spotting a window situated a few feet down the wall, on the left side. "I can get us inside, don't you worry," she looked over her shoulder, smiling at the man briefly before turning a scowl back towards the keypad. Standard numerical pad sporting ten digits. There were 1,023 combinations if all ten digits were utilized, which was highly unlikely. She estimated there were likely only four to six digits in the combination required to unlock the door and whatever it was, the guards were obviously content enough with its security to desert their posts in favor of fighting on the front. A roadblock, but a minor one. Rubbing her chin, Izoshi trotted around Don and peeped into the window, standing on her toes to reach.

There were no signs of anyone in the direct room, in fact it was completely dark. Storage, perhaps? Or a neglected, makeshift office? Whatever the case was, she wasted no further time and flipped the firearm in her hand, slinging the grip forward to smash a hole in the glass and send the shards scattering to the floor beyond. She cleared it with her stolen gauntlet, grasped the sill and promptly hoisted herself up, catching the edge with her toes and gracefully landing on the other side. There was silence in the stillness beyond and she waited a few seconds before creeping over to the door and opening it from within. "See?"​

​

 

[Noel Strasza]

O B S C E N I T Y
W A R M A C H I N E
OBJ | RUSTY CAGE
// Tavish Steiger \\

"Good work," she said, allowing her rifle to hang across her abdomen with her hands resting over it. She turned, glancing down the street and those fanning beyond she could see as the silence settled, forcing a flare of her nostrils with annoyance. It was her first endeavor off Carlac in a little while and it was over so quickly. All the same, it seemed as though everyone was in one piece, and she was thankful for that. "I'll call it in, let 'em know it's clear to bring the others in to start establishing a greater hold. And, we'll get the medics to take a look at that shoulder."

The Major strolled through, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the rank in her black armor, to the end of the street.

<"This is Major Strasza, Echo is clean. Drop North of the smoke, should be happy trails from here, out.">

The cyborg plucked a smoke grenade from her belt and yanked the ring from its lock, tossing it soon after to a relatively clear space amongst all the debris left in the wake of conflict.

As the pillar of green smoke rose into the sky she couldn't help but hope it would not be so long in the quiet until her next battle.​

 

[DECEASED Aron Gowrie]

III
GALIDRAANI FREE-STATE

Objective 1: RUSTY CAGE

Location: CONCORD DAWN

Allies: Loske Treicolt Grey Rusken Noel Strasza Tavish Steiger
Wallace Paxxus Djorn Bline Don Belkora Izoshi

<"Reed to Blue-Heart Bravo! Free to move up by at least a few blocks or so, we got rifles in the area scouring the suburbs, as asked.">

'No need, Ginge! Op's complete, word came through from HQ. Pack up your supplies, we're going back to the dropships. Blue-Heart Bravo out!'

Getting a head-start on their subordinate-vehicles, the ACVs would leave the Cataphracts and AFVs behind them as they returned to the Free-State emblazoned dropships that would return them to Archais without so much as a man or vehicle lost in the process, and only two vehicles would be towed behind due to cosmetic damage in traversing rubble and the likes. As far as first unsupervised outings went, Lord Aron could not have asked for better, and would be well-rewarded for aiding the New Order's expansion efforts in Lord Erskine's absence for as long as he maintained his part in the continuation of the good run of luck. One part of the Free-State's many acts of collaboration that Erskine would have fewer concerns of fulfilling, as there was much and more to be done before the next flareup of hostilities with the Sith Empire.

'Whiskey, cigars, sun and sand.... A perfect reward!'
At least until the next deployment, that is.
​

​

 

[Don Belkora]

CONCORD_DAWN_
DON 'BANDIT' BELKORA
COMPNOR
Tags: Izoshi

Belkora let the Chiss do her work as he sat himself down on a nearby overturned pillar, lighting up another cigarra, his ninth one of the day. The Tetan put the cigarra to his lips and took a deep inhale, covering his mouth as he coughed and exhaled a cloud of smoke. Moments later, the door opened, revealing the familiar sight of the blue woman standing in the doorway looking smug as ever. Belkora pulled himself up and joined Izoshi, an impressed look on his face.

"Impressive."

Gun in hand, he entered the complex, switching his flashlight on to see around. Something heavy bounced against his foot; he looks down confused to see a Mandalorian helmet. Something smelt bad, he tips the helmet over with his boot to reveal a severed head inside.

"Fething hell."​

​