Fly High, Die High - GR Invasion Of OS Ord Mirit

[Ellie Mors]

Objective: B (Battle the Grandmaster)
Location: Section 2
Allies: The One Sith
Enemies: The Galactic Republic, The Jedi Order, [member="Corvus Raaf"]
Gear: Lightsabers, Singlet, Cloak, Arm, Eyes
Theme: Mr. Self Destruct by Nine Inch Nails

Spoiler

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7-GjKz2DW5M[/media]

​

Sweet, delectable nectar. Sticky, irony. Blood. It dripped from her left arm, which was currently occupied being embedded in the chest of some ridiculously foolish Jedi, perhaps a padawan - perhaps not. But it did not matter, she had not been preparing for this day simply to rust her prosthetic arm with the blood of some teenager unworthy of a lightsaber duel with the lady. Her eyes gleamed red, a mild touch granted by the alteration of her appearance slightly through the force - in a far more perfect form than the use of the 'mask' ability. But, ah yes, where was she, exactly? Standing in the midst of what appeared to be the start of an invasion of a fuel station - the importance of which on a planet over its capital she had no idea - was the Sith Lord, former Voice of the Dark Lord's first and third sectors, slayer of the Dark Lord's apprentice-turned-traitor, Darth Vitium. But that name, by now, was obsolete. In place of the whorish woman that had won over the heart of the corporate titan of Titan Industries was the nightmarish Sith Lord that had been the cause of her own master's death, Darth Atrophia. Her very flesh, sickly and pale, reeked of the dark side in all its unpleasantness, the SynthFlesh covered prosthetic arm attached to her left shoulder plunged into the heart cavity of a teenage girl that had previously been a rather inexperienced and stupidly brave Jedi. Her red hair, crimson almost in color, hung straight and down, reaching below her shoulders at her back while being geometrically cut to hang above her ears and then an inch or so above her eyebrows in a rather organized hairline. She wore a black cloak customary of traditional Sith Lords that had not delved into the use of armor, and beneath that was a blood-red myriad singlet that would act as her clothing. In her right hand, her dominant one, was the unlit lightsaber that had caused countless deaths in the years leading up to her adulthood as a teenager.

"Poor child, dying a fool's death rather than surrendering to her fears."

The whisper of pity fell on dead ears, the body of which was shrugged off of her mechanical arm as to let it drop to the ground. Not a moment had been spared on removing the blood from either her cloak or her false arm as it hadn't bothered her, but instead she advanced forwards at a slow, deliberate, pace. Reaching back with that same blood-soaked hand, Atrophia pulled the hood of her cloak over her head and lowered her head slightly as a smirk formed. She may have 'retired' from being the Dark Lord's voice by her own will, but she had become anything but softer - anything but "lighter". A dark presence that symbolized her being a monstrosity, etched into her very soul, tugged at the heartstrings of those she passed, Sith and Jedi alike, and opened them to their fears. She was no possessor of super-human strength, no telekinetic 'god' of the force, but she was a sorceress, and as far as she was concerned the copy-cats in the One Sith had a long way to go before they could ever be considered equals by her in the arts of Sith magic. "Despair." No sooner had the hushed voice left her lips that an aura of unease, similar to the subtle unease given by her presence in the dark side but purposefully stronger, expanded in every direction within a reasonable distance from her. Those who had thought to confront the Sith Lord that merely strolled towards the entry point of the Republic troops began to shy away, cowering even, and though she had hardly shown any designation that she might be a Sith Lord - the simple application of force speed to impale the previous Jedi on her arm wasn't exactly impossible for a knight to perform, there was no denying it. Stopping at the point between the first and second sections of the facility three words rang out.

 

[Weiss]

Objective: Defend a canyon
Location F-8, around [member="Alva Calvarona"] position
Allies, rep and Imp remnant
Enemies: OS
Gear: Found here

NPC:

Spoiler

1x AT-FAT
2x diggers
230 storm troopers

-----------------------------------------------

The Heavy AT-FAT Walkers movement was a familiar feeling to Weiss and the men of the 337th as they sat spread out in the transports. It was his first visit to this planet. And it was most liekly to get to be confusing fighting the OS again. He had never before thought that they would end up as allies of the Galactic republic but here they were.

Politics... he thought and shook his head. But the OS had made it impossible for them to not intervene considering the brutal invasion of Crina a while back. It had litteraly destroyed any hopes for an alliance with the Imperial Remnats and its leadership had scanned the galaxy for new potential allies ever since. The Galactic republic had a very different view on how things should be governed but this alliance made sense out of a military perspective. They were large enough to resist the OS and they shown very Little interest in hindering the reconstruction of the Empire Weiss had chosen to dedicate his servitude to.

Well, come to Think of it there was more then politics to aiding the republic against the OS. There was also the thought of revenge. He still remembered the freaks attacking the Royal Palace. Weiss had lost many good men that day, sith Powers causing such massive damage to both the troops and the structure itself.

Weiss sighed and lit his ciggar. they were soon to be deployed, this was the calm Before the storm, he knew and so did most of his men. Fighting OS might mean facing siths. It would be ugly for sure. But this was no longer a unit of fresh recruits. Ever since Crina theirs was the Life of constant war fare, with whatever and whomever Imperial command decided. They were ready for whatever. Or so Weiss hoped.

"Lieutenant Weiss. Deploy your forces as Captain Hadrix instructs." [member="Alva Calvarona"] voice instructed over the command com

"Roger that m'am. Falling in under Captain [member="Ali Hadrix"] command." Weiss replied. He rolled his shoulders and turned to put out the ciggar on the wall, its heated tip hissing in protest. But within seconds it gave up and a tiny cloud of smoke started to make its way to the ceiling.

Weiss readied his weapon and swung it over his shoulder as he placed the storm trooper helmet on.

"Unit! Listen in! We are about to deploy in hostile territory! Remain put until orders are given to embark. We are being placed further up the canyon to reinforce a republic position and things will soon heat up."

"Squad leaders do count in and all units perform weapon check."

Weiss listened to the com as his squad leaders reported in full numbers. It would not be the same numbers at the end of the day. Death was a constant companion of the 337th.

 

[Lassiter]

Objective B
Location: Unremarkable shuttle - enroute to planet
Allies: [member="Ameli Trahir"]
Enemies: This could be you! (PM us)

Ord Mirit was boring, indeed, but at the very least it meant that none of the good spots on any civilized planet they liked would shut down, or worse, explode. So if you considered what they’d gain and what they’d lose from the different potential battlefields the benefits of it taking place on Ord Mirit seemed a lot greater than any other. Besides, what was there even of importance to the Republic or even the One Sith on Ord Mirit? Sena wanted to say ‘Nothing’ and call it a day.

Wiping the thought off of her mind Sena placed her hand on her chin and tried to remember exactly which tourist couple her friend had been referring to. More specifically if it was the broad daylight one or if it was the one that ended in the alleyway. Both were good memories, obviously, but if Sena would go with her gut it said that it most certainly was the dark alleyway that her friend was referring to.

“Mmmm... Not exactly.” Sena shook her head head she spoke. “Think more along the style of the frat party on Zeltros.”

Those bruises hadn’t been nice, but the rewards had most certainly been worth the scrap the boys had put up. It wasn’t long after that the authorities got on them and the lesson in not wasting too much energy had become invaluable to the two girls. The force was obviously good for speeding things up as well, but when it came to the leaving of the planet? Well, that was a story for another time.

“There will be more of a competitiveness to it.” Sena waved her hands up and down as her head swayed side to side. “You’re about to see how many of them you can end, and they’re just about doing the same to you.”

“Unless, of course, you find yourself with a ‘dance partner’ that is willing to take up the majority of your time by themselves.”

The ship slowly drifted back into realspace and the girls were handwavedly allowed access to the planet’s surface. Blockades? Hardly knew’em.

“You ready?” Sena asked as the ship touched ground. Once more there was no real space for her friend to respond. “Too bad.”

 

[Darth Timoris]

Objective: B. Defend the Supply Depot
Location: Near the Supply Depot
Allies: Strictly a 1:1 affair
Enemies: [member="Micah Talith"]
Gear: The Force and a saber – what else?
Theme: Freak like me…

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4sXoA7B5yJo

‘I’m on the train that’s pullin the sick and twisted,
Makin the most of the ride before we get arrested,
We’re all wasted,
And we’re not going home tonight.

Covered in black we lack the social graces,
Just like an animal we crawl out of our cages,
They can’t tame us,
So if you’re one of us, get on the bus

If you’re a freak like me,
Wave your flag!
If you’re a freak like me,
Get off your ass!
It’s our time now,
To let it all hang out.’


My relationship with my Master is complex. She rules me. She orders and directs me. Yet we are both Sith, and though I am still her Apprentice I share some of her power. As I have grown, so has her confidence in me. I stand by her side, but slightly behind, in her shadow.

I am content there. I still have much to learn. Not in battle, but in larger strategies. She sees weakness and exploits it. She senses anger and inflames it. Her vision takes in a galaxy, with its multitude of planets and governments. The complexity doesn't intimidate her.

Out among the stars are the Jedi. They dream of a galaxy of justice and peace. It makes me smile to think of what they are about to face.

I cannot calm my eager, racing mind. I will be called into service. Since my time with the Sith, I've trained for this. The Jedi are mine. Mine to taunt, mine to hunt and mine to destroy. I must focus my mind. The Jedi are out there. I will meet them soon. But I cannot bring the moment closer by wishing for it.

I am willing to die for my Master, of course. But she is not just a being. She is a tradition, a heritage, an ideal. Someday I will be the Master and have my own Apprentice standing here. She will be willing to die for me.

I am ready for whatever honour my fate chooses to show me. I am prepared. A slow rage begins to burn through me. It is a terrible anger. I have never felt anything like it. I know it can consume me. No. I can direct it. My rage will consume my enemy.



So Darth Timoris stood and waited. Standard black Sith robes and her twin sabers clipped to her belt, she was in battle as she was in life - a woman of simple tastes.

 

[GhostOfProtocol]

Objective: Defend the Depot while playing dirty, of course.
Location: Stood between probably four of the most scary Sith he'd ever met.
Allies: [member="Darth Venefica"], [member="Darth Ferus"], [member="Saiah"], [member="Darth Veles"]
Enemies: The Galactic Republic and anyone they allied with.
Gear: Sith Assassin Armor, Lightsaber, DL-44 Blaster, Sith Hidden Blade

He nodded lightly as he listened to Venefica explain how he was walking between them. Flicking his purple hood over his head, he twisted the hidden blade slightly, nodding yet again. He watched as Saiah came up to them, asking to join the shindig and he watched again as Ferus came up to join them. A small army to take on the Jedi, always a nice thing.

He followed the little group out of Sector Five and into Sector Eight. He wasn't sure why they'd chosen Sector Eight, maybe it was the main battle or something. Or maybe you'd get those pesky shadows that attempted to come through that way. Either way, they were in Sector Eight.

He stopped slowly, stopping with the group. Now all to do was wait.

 

[Darth Veles]

Objective: B
Location: Section 5, moved to section 8
Allies: [member="Darth Ferus"] [member="Saiah"] [member="Darth Venefica"] [member="Jardo Snow"]
Enemies: Pubs
Gear: Clothes and lightsabers.

Normally, the Sith Assassin rarely worked with another, especially in large scale battles such as this. Groups and parties attracted attention, something the amphibious Sith preferred to avoid, working alone and preying on lone targets. That wasn’t to say he failed to see the wisdom of having the numbers on their site; he just rarely found a suitable group to join. All those warriors charging into the greatest slaughter on the battlefield – that wasn’t for him. As such, when approaching the Sith Lady and the Acolyte, Avreet’s lips curled into a smile he could not hold back. It was a curious trio to say the least; one moderate Sith, one insane Sith, one Acolyte. Quite amusing; normally, he would have found it difficult to work with the Sith Lady due to her questionable mental state and the self-proclaimed title of Sith Witch. Only one woman deserved to be called like that, one certain Togruta that was suspiciously absent from the battle, tired of the machinations of the One Sith. Undoubtedly, Venefica would have deemed the Mon Calamari to be equally insufferable given his views and vastly different methods. The same went to the Acolyte; as taught by Lady Zarrah, a true Sith never bowed, and doing so anyway warranted punishment.

But this was war, not a debate in safe confines of one of their massive Temples. Their differences mattered little here and now, when they stood against an army of Jedi and Republic soldiers. Given they stood as defenders, Avreet did not care for whatever brutality the Sith employed to destroy their enemies. He did not care for prisoners and honourable battle. The swamp Sith Lady’s insanity did not matter, same as the Acolyte’s bow earned the young man nothing but a momentary frown. While most Sith usually wanted to kill each other, the majority of them saw the wisdom in working together once attacked. This was one such moment. If the Sith Assassin joined his forces with the Sith Sorceress, utilizing their favourite and most practiced powers… nothing stood a chance!

“Thank you, Lady Venefica,” the amphibious Sith turned his gaze towards the woman clad in bones, “I had a great master.” His words were humbly, yet proud at the same time.

The smirk that spread over his face revealed little and vanished as soon as the Mon Cal cast his sight upon the Acolyte, observing him. It was admirable of the man to join something this large – and Veles sincerely hoped the Acolyte listened to the Sith Lady’s wise words and lived through the invasion. The Sith Lord himself had left his apprentice to her studies; Kendrix was still too inexperienced to join something like this. She was a thief, a pickpocket. Not an assassin. Not yet. She would, too, taste battle soon enough though.

“May your attacks strike true, Acolyte.”

Veles spun on his heel, turning around and gazing into distance with those amber eyes of his, the dark cloak momentarily revealing the twin lightsabers hanging on his hip; both curved and beautifully crafted, pieces of art and instruments of death alike. After Venefica’s words, Darth Veles set off at swift pace and so the trio marched towards whatever awaited them in the neighbouring section. One of the curved hilts found its way into the Mon Cal’s left hand, waiting to be ignited yet. The crystal within filled the Sith Lord with strength; Zarrah’s gift, his most treasured possession. The old Togruta did not have to personally join the battle to be there with him and slay Jedi.

Surprisingly enough, Veles met a familiar face as they set foot into the desired area; one certain Rattataki Sith Knight, his fellow assassin, the same woman he had trained and worked alongside with. Ruthlessly competent, strikingly beautiful, very powerful, highly intelligent; a deadly combination and one he heartily welcomed. The fact the young woman wished to join them was greatly appreciated by the amphibian, as she would definitely not disappoint with her results, adding a great portion of strength to their already powerful party.

“Lady Ophidia, it is a surprise finding you here. A particularly pleasant one though. Working alongside you will be a pleasure,” he smiled at the pale assassin, probably his favourite Sith Knight as of late.

One again, his head gazed up to see the enemy ships in space above them. They all looked so small, insignificant, but such was the Republic’s foolish attempt to steal from the One Sith. Some of these “liberating heroes” were about to encounter the Mon Cal’s Sith side; one far less tolerant and merciful than his Imperial side that’s been usually displayed by him. This attack called for brutality, not words, and so was the Sith diplomat forced to forego his relaxed and calm attitude in order to grant his enemies a rare glimpse of Darth Veles, the Sith Lord.

 

[Corvus Raaf]

Objective: B. Take the Supply Depot
Location: Landing
Allies: Strictly a 1:1 affair
Enemies: [member="Darth Atrophia"]
Gear: The Force and a saber...
Theme: I won't be your paper doll

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b5GvVszrvK8

‘Who's right, who's wrong?
Who cares?
Life's short, life's long
It's everywhere

I won't waste my time with you
Unless you give me truth
I won't waste my time on proving
Time is wasting you

I'm not here to break your fall
I won't be your paper doll
I'm not the kind to control
What you're trying to well
You'll never get to my soul
Though you're trying to, you never will

I'm not here to break your fall
I won't be your paper doll

Who's hurt, who's healed?
Who cares?
We fall, we break our tone and scare
When you think I've made
A million tears from now
You'll be on your knees
Wishing you could go back, back somehow

I'm not here to break your fall
I won't be your paper doll.’

Balance to the Force. It was every Jedi’s aim yet – at the same time was perceived as a holy grail. Did it mean a perfect balance of light and dark – or the eradication of the Sith? As she sat on the shuttle and meditated – despite the warning that touchdown was imminent and so many around her seemed to be fiddling with their equipment and strapping on various toys.

And as she emptied her mind, thoughts of balance came unheeded into her mind – and inevitably to Obi-Wan. Images started to surface unbidden of Theed. The black-clad warrior, the yellow-eyed face that bore jagged red and black tattoos.

The duel lasted several brutal minutes, taking the Jedi and their deadly foe from the Theed hangar to the city's immense power generator. And then the creature drove his lightsaber straight through Qui-Gon's chest. Obi-Wan shouted as he saw his Master's body crumple. None of Obi-Wan's training had prepared him to deal with an opponent like this. They hammered and spun at each other relentlessly, moving back and forth.

Of course his foe used the Force to push at Obi-Wan, striking him with such an impact that he released his lightsaber as he tumbled over the edge and into the core.

Obi-Wan dangled, his arms straining to maintain a grip. Above him, the demonic figure chopped at the air with his red-bladed lightsaber, taunting and daring Obi-Wan to make one final, desperate move. And then Obi-Wan remembered Qui-Gon's position and the lightsaber by his side.

Corvus knew that Jedi were not immortal, that life was unpredictable, and that death was inevitable. Yet Master Kenobi endured and Maul died – in a manner of speaking – that day. The Sith should have prevailed but did not – could not. Obi-Wan found a way.

Of course this was not the first time she’d reviewed that combat in her head. The first time was over two decades ago. She was four and while her friends played scorch, she re-enacted famous saber battles – seeing how the outcome could have changed but for a pivotal mistake. Old habits died hard – she still did the same today – adding in her own fights. She now had more scars that a woman of her age ought to rightly have. Too many to count and way too many to remember how she got them. Some were memorable however. The cuts above her eye and below her lip for example. Courtesy of Balaya. Ossus and Zeltros respectively. Her upper left arm a mass of scar tissue from…Alderaan? Possibly. A broken ankle – what...three times?

A dull thud indicated they’d landed and Corvus stood gracefully. Her standard issue Jedi robes neatly pressed. Her saber and shoto attached to her belt. She had the Force…what else was required?

The words echoed in her ears as she stepped onto the planet that was – in essence little more than an ordnance depot. The voice was barely recognisable but there was something about it that triggered a memory. Prakith? Perhaps. Did it truly matter in the scheme of things? Perhaps.

“I am coming,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, intended for no ears but her own. The Sith and Jedi had been fighting for millennia. What difference would another five minutes make?

 

[Irys Arist'lar]

Objective: A
Location: TUS Objects in the Rear View Mirror Tambor-class Star Destroyer
Allies: [member="Thanith Gumara"] [member="Nulgath Zardai"]
Enemies: [member="Taeli Raaf"] [member="Gir Quee"]

Space:

Spoiler

Note: Gunships in 6’s
Bombers in 12’s
Fighters in 48’s
Interceptors in 48’s

Status:

Spoiler

Ship name	Location	Orders	Shields	Hull	Speed(hexes)
Ship name	Loc	Orders	Shields	Hull	Speed(hexes)
1xWyyrlock	1019	Scan	1560	1430	3
1xTambor	0518	Scan	1155	1155	4
1xScythe	1419	Scan	613	613	5
1xMaladi	0918	Scan	552	506	6
1xMaladi	1118	Scan	552	506	6
Sev’rance A	0419	Picket	300	300	7
Sev’rance B	0619	Picket	300	300	7
Sev’rance C	1518	Picket	300	300	7
1xDirk		1418	Picket	205	205	5
Fighters:

Fleet:

Spoiler

1xWyyrlok Holding Position – Launching fighters 1019
1xTambor Holding Position – Launching fighters 0518
1xScythe Holding Position – Launching fighters 1419
2xMaladi Holding Position – Launching fighters 0918, 1118
3xSev'rance Holding Position – Launching fighters 0419, 0619, 1518
1xDirk Holding Position – Launching fighters 1418
Fighters:
Droid Fighters: 249
Droid Interceptors: 166
Droid Bombers: 83

One Sith Fighters: 96
One Sith Bombers: 12
One Sith Elite Fighters: 12

Bolo-class Gunships: 18

Irys prowled across the bridge of the TUS Objects There was a palpable tension, which only elevated as Irys neared each station. This wasn’t her ship; the Majesty was still in dry dock to be repaired following the surprise attack near Doldur. Her reputation for having a short temper and a low tolerance for stupidity seemed to have proceeded her. Hyperspace sensors had already been triggered, and the coalition fleet had been formed up.

The bulk of the One Sith fleet was engaged elsewhere, fortunately the Techno Union fleet had been engaging in joint exercises with the Sith nearby. Time to nail that flag to the mast it seemed. The exercises had been carried out under the utmost secrecy, but it seemed the secret was about to come out.

Geonosis had been the last straw. Attempting to bring their world back under their influence, they had been ambushed by a number of vessels. Several of which were know Republic vessels. Sponsoring politically extreme terrorists on their doorstep was not an act that could go unnoticed.

Unfortunately they’d been having some teething problems. Functioning under a joint command was tricky, but integrating their secure comms systems had been even harder. Two completely different manufacturers had meant it had been a week before they could even set up a secure battle network. Not the most impressive start. The One Sith also used piloted starships, something the Techno Union shied away from. Getting organic pilots to work closely with droid vessels – which had an intimate understanding of situational awareness, and could fly formations at exceedingly close proximity – had been a little difficult. The speed at which droid wings changed direction and unnerved the One Sith piliots, who then took evasive actions the droids did not expect. They’d suffered two training causalities without even entering live fire exercises. Not something either side like to report back to the media.

Still, if they hadn’t been ironing out the kinks over the last month, today would have been an embarrassment. Talking in the clear, crashing into each other…it would have been a slaughter.

“Cronau radiation!”

“Destroyers entering realspace!”

Irys turned away from the sensor station she’d been passing, looking to the holo-display of the situation.

“Form up in three formations. Launch fighters! Hold position!” she called out, before hearing a snigger behind her.

She turned to find one of the ensigns annotating an image of the sensor readout.

“Ensign, you’re dismissed,” she said curtly. There was no argument. Another creman took the station quickly.

“We’ve got the edge on them ma’am. Analytics have run the sims, they’ve not got much of a chance,” called another bridge officer.

Irys took a moment to look over the results. It was true. Even though the One Sith didn’t use defensive stations for some unfathomable reason, the enemy was well out-gunned. Perhaps today would be a very short encounter.

“Full active scans. I want broad area sweeps, and a focussed scan on their fleet. Hold position and see if they have the stomach for this,” she said. There was no ruffle of her fur to indicate any emotional reaction. She was calm and focussed on the moment. She continued to cast her eyes over the summary of analysis so far.

 

[Sanya Val Lerium]

Location: En route Ord Mirit
Objective: C [J-7]
Allies: Galactic Republic
Enemies: One sith

Npc's - (200)

Spoiler

http://starwarsrp.net/topic/49663-yoma-ab/
Yoma-Abx6 (x2 B9, X4 J-7)
http://starwarsrp.net/topic/51570-penumbra-unit
PenumbraUnit (B9)
Equipment -
http://starwarsrp.net/topic/61694-acs-004-titan-assault-armor/
http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Camo_scout_armor
Http://starwars.wiki.com/wiki/PLX-M2_portable_missile_launcher

The series of dropships had set into formation on it's way down to the planets surface. Sanya sat closest to the exit of the ship. on the way down Sanya prepared a briefed to troop she had command of over the comlink. "Okay people, once we hit surface the artillery will be split into two groups on the ground. Two of the yoma bases will split off from the main group to stop anything coming out the valley opposite them, Commander Carlton you will oversee the defence and orders of this group."

"Yes mam, they won't get past us."

Sanya held onto the harness as they entered the atmosphere, the ship started shaking erratically until they broke free of the clouds. "The other group will be referred by allied forces 'under my control'." The drop ships separated heading to there landing zones. "Good luck everyone, and don't take risks you don't need too."

As they set down Sanya open up a channel to Taneas. "Hey old man you think you still got it in you?" Sanya waited for the reply. "Well then show me how you did it in you day's" she laughed to herself for a moment. The green light light up the interior signaling it was time to move out. "Okay old man gotta run."

(Npc- commander T.Carlton) (B9)

His men flooded out the drop ship standing into formation, Tarvace walking to stand infront. "OKAY MEN, ONCE WE HIT THE RIDGE LINE I NEED ARTILLERY SET UP READY TO FIRE. LOCATED INSIDE THE YOMA YOU WILL FIND AMMUNITION, SURFACE TO AIR LAUNCHERS AND THE REST OF THE EQUIPMENT. SNIPERS YOU WILL SET UP POSITIONS FEEDING THE ARTILLERY WHERE TO SHOOT. IF THE AREA BECOMES DENSE SHOOT TO KILL. UNDERSTOOD!"

the men shouted back in reply. "YES SIR!"

"Then LET'S MOVE OUT!"

Spoiler

All sniper shots will be dice rolled on 20 sided dice
even number = hit
Odd = miss
10 or 20 = critical

 

[Taneas Haring]

Location: En route to ord mirit
Objective: C (B9)
Allies: The Republic
enemy: one sith

Equipment that's not listed in bio:
Camo scout Armor
http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/camo_scout_armor
TMW-M1 Lance sniper rifle



Npc's

Spoiler

X6 Arachnid-AT (x2 B9, X2 K7, x2 G7)
ACS-403 Electromagnetic Shielding
ACS-405 Enhanced Vehicle Sensor suite
(cost 20)

E56-C2 Repair Droids (X50 C7, X50 I6)

Taneas stood there securing the camo scout armor to his body, making sure nothing was loose, and worked correctly. he had gotten into one of the dropships with the penumbra unit [member="Sanya Val Lerium"]'s elite squad.

he wasn't familiar with anyone around him, so he doesn't know how everything will play out. although taneas was certain about one thing. war has changed, over the past few year the one sith have became over powered, but they hide behind freaks and experiments gone wrong. this is why he came out of retirement, to fight the not so good fight but take it back to the sith. make them run like in the good days.

the drop ship soon came into land splitting his force into several groups, he would be commanding the force in the Arachnid-AT or via comlink when set up into position. as the green light filled the back of the ship the thud of the walker could be heard inside. the back ramp opened before touching down, taneas leaped of the ramp falling a few meters onto the walker.

moments after Sanya had opened a com channel open. "HAHAHA Kiddo you wouldn't believe how much fight ive still got in me, after all I'm a damn good shot." taneas move his way to the top of the walker dropping in through the top hatch while the girl talked more. "Hey watch it there, that sounded like a challenge." the sound of shuffling could be heard through the com. "okay, see you on the battlefield kid."

 

[H3xle]

PC Template
Objective: B
Location: Near Fuel Depot -> Section 2
Allies: Republic
Enemies: One Sith. [member="lucianus adair"]
Gear: Winter, Jedi Guardian Armor


Dair surveyed the grounds around the fuel depot. He could hear the beginnings of some fighting off on the other side of the depot, but the area directly ahead of him appeared to be fairly quiet. Quiet in a war zone was always suspect, and Dair wasn't here to smell the fuel tainted flowers. He strode forward cautiously, moving with a subtle grace that belied the weight of the armor he wore. He'd spent time among the people of his parents and they utilized armor all the time. When he returned and had found that Guardians were provided a suit of lightsaber resistant armor, Dair couldn't resist. He knew that his former master, [member="corvus raaf"], would frown on it. She was definitively in the crowd of Jedi that believed that the force was enough to defend you. Dair believed that as well, but only to a certain point. When the enemy was also using the force, added protection wasn't a bad thing, in his mind.

Dair pulled Winter off of his belt and ignited it. He could feel through the force that something was nearby. Something, or someone, strong in the force. Upon entering section 2 of the fuel depot, Dair spotted [member="lucianus adair"]. Dair paused and turned his body to look at the man.

"I don't suppose that you'd be willing to just walk away..." The Valkyri Knight spoke, his deep voice slightly muffled by his helmet.

 

[Andras Garon]

Objective:B, Sector 4
Locationrop Pod descending towards Fuel Depot
Allies:The Republic
Enemies:The One Sith/[member="Tes Dralyn"] soon....
Gear:

Spoiler

Andras Neo Crusader Armor
Beskad
Fett Kel Trenchknife
E-17 Assault Rifle
AT-1 Wrist Slugthrower
Force Breaker Grenades x3
Smoke Grenades x3

​

...the descent of the Drop Pod was slowed by the activation of the thrusters which slow velocity after the craft had pierced the atmosphere and wreathed itself in flame upon entry. The rumbling that accompanied the thrusters, shaking the interior of the Drop Pod, ensured that Andras was awake and aware during the descent. A Terminal to one side of where he sat tracked the distance to planetside in the kilometers and was dropping rapidly. Watching the numbers count down on the terminal Andras would eventually reach up and unclip his safety harness so that he wasn't confined to his seat then he stretched his arm across to the terminal and activated emergency evacuation protocols. Almost as though in anticipation his body had tensed in response to his actions....

...the metallic siding of the Drop Pod broke away shortly thereafter, blowing outwards to reveal the open air behind the designated seating in the pod, then Andras leaned back before his seat was ejected as he entered a free fall. The HUD in his helm activated several independent systems including his rangefinder allowing the Mandalorian to track his distance from the target as he fell from the sky. The Drop Pod would veer away and in the corner of his eye Andras would watch as it continued to fall towards the surface of Ord Mirit. Tucking his arms close to his side so that he offered less wind resistance Andras shot from the heavens in a literal fashion as he descended towards the fuel depot...

...the fall was spectacular in its own way however insertions like this were hat in hand for the Mandalorians many of whom had been performing them since they were able to go to war for the clans. As the rangefinder flashed in the corner of his hud indicating a minimum safe distance that Andras had to safely deploy the Mandalorian would respond by widening arms and legs to create more wind resistance and slow his descent in contrast to the previous. The Jet Pack integrated into his armor activated moments later. Andras turned vertical, upright, in response to the activation of the Jet Pack and coasted relatively easily towards the surface as he inserted himself into the Fuel Depot which was designated danger close according to his mission intel...

...feet landed on a metal grate, Andras took a knee, the E-17 Assault Rifle in his right hand tucked close to his hip while the left came across to disengage the safety and prime it for combat. Andras waited momentarily, taking a quick survey of this sector of the fuel depot which was open area mingled with various pump stations, piping, staircases, catwalks and a control booth located on an upper tier. Once he'd taken a close look he would ease up onto his feet proper and begin to move, using the piping to cover his left side and letting it act as cover for him...​

 

[Kaiden Rohn]

Objective: B
Location: Sector 1
Allies: The Galactic Republic
Enemies: None
Gear: Havoc Squad Armor, STA wrist MRLs, One PDW-M1, Lancer Mark III, a knife. Like, it's a knife, and it's nothing crazy, but you know, it's still a knife. And like, one frag grenade.

Funny thing, life. One minute you're hunting down criminals, the next, you're in a war zone. Such was life for Kaiden Rohn, Commander of Havoc Squad. Or at least, the idea of Havoc Squad. He had friends, family in it. Now, they were dead and buried, or off on their own- leaving the aging warrior to fend for himself on the battlefield. He wouldn't guilt trip them to coming to fight with him, they'd fought enough to earn whatever respite they wanted. Besides, it was a volunteer unit anyway.

Orange and white armor streaked off the dropship, landing with a heavy thud to the ground of Ord Mirit. He'd never been to the planet. He let his Lancer rifle fall to his side, after charging a round. He glanced around, feeling the wind on his face. The Havoc Squad commander never bothered with a helmet- felt more like a distraction than a beneficial article to lug around. Besides- it was just one more thing from the quartermaster.

So Kaiden advanced, hoping to remain unchallenged until he could at least get somewhat close to the depot. Maybe then he could do some damage.

 

[Keira Priest]

Objective: B
Location: Sector 5, transitioning to 6
Allies: Sith
Enemies: Galactic Republic, eventually [member="Turin Val Kur"]
Gear: Personal lightsaber

This is taking too long. That was the one prevalent thought in Keira's mind as the dropships began to land. It seemed that the Jedi were content in taking their time, despite being the ones who had initiated this conflict. The fact that they had chosen to invade a Sith-controlled planet by itself was surprising enough. This was a different side of the warriors of light that she had yet to see until this moment, the facet that wouldn't hesitate to fight for all that they believed in and held dear. Perhaps if they had taken the offensive in a number of other scenarios, events wouldn't have occurred in the order they did to lead up to this moment. Perhaps Ord Mirit would have already been under Republic control before any thoughts of an invasion could be mustered. All they had were those maybes.

Briefly she glanced to those Sith that had been present as they departed, their next destination not garnering any immediate interest. To fight in a group was boring, and in some cases a waste of energy and resources. It had always been easier and more practical, in her opinion, to work alone. But if they were moving, then she supposed she should do the same as well, if just to speed up the process of finding an opponent. Staying in one place and waiting for an adversary to come to her wouldn't reap any immediate rewards. After all, she wasn't a Jedi. Watching and waiting were two words that were hardly in her vocabulary when it came to any sort of violent scenario. It was far more profitable to take the initiative. Or maybe that was just what she had been taught over the years.

Without comment she glanced once more to the dropships before beginning to walk, heading towards the doorway at the far end of the room. If the Jedi weren't going to attack first, then she wouldn't hesitate to bring the fight to them. One way or another, they would be leaving the planet, and unsuccessful if she had any say in it. Taking her lightsaber in her left hand the weapon remained silent, unignited of yet. There were Jedi nearby, that much she could sense, but none of them were close enough of yet to warrant any sort of conflict. That would come later, hopefully soon, or she would find her own excuse to engage. For the moment she was content with merely waiting near one of the entrances into the fuel depot, waiting for her opponent to step through.

There were already duels springing up in other areas of the base, which meant things were nearly coming to a head. Come on, Jedi. Don't keep me waiting.

 

[Alan]

Objective: Bravo
Location: Section 2, moving to three.
Allies: [member="Corvus Raaf"] (sorta)
Enemies: Nobody...yet.
Gear: Tracyn's Lightsaber, Tracyn's armor (save for the chestplate)
Theme: Nerve - The Story So Far

​

​

Tracyn whirled in the fight, passing by engaging troops, Sith and Jedi flinging at each other, and the swirl of hate, fear, and rage swirling around him, avoiding the temptation to tap into it. He knew the lure, and understood also, how to resist said lure. He felt his old student, Corvus Raaf, nearby. He stopped for a moment, holding the orange blade in his hands, as the battle raged on around him. He turned, seeing her in the distance, and smiled. For just a fraction of a second, at least. He didn't need to help her, he felt. Whatever she was about to face here, it would be on her own, and he only hoped that the lessons he taught her all thos years ago would be worth it. He advanced, utilizing no tricks, and he didn't empower himself with the force (yet). He didn't see a need to. He was waiting, waiting for something to come at him- or for him to find someone.

He only hoped that it would end well for all of the Jedi, for a better outcome than their recent excursions.

 

[Yurzhoc Shai]

PC Template:

Spoiler

Objective: Objective C, rallying the troops and rakamats
Location: J-13, in flight for scouting on Nuhlrokka
Allies: One Sith, [member="Vrag"], [member="Sage Bane"], [member="Cryax Bane"], [member="Anja Aj'Rou"], [member="Nerius"], [member="Sabik Dhami"], [member="Darth Raven"], [member="Reverance"]
Enemies: Jedi heretics
Engaging: [member="Weiss"], [member="Alva Calvarona"]
Gear: Vonduun Skerr Kyrric, Chom-Huun, Chitin Carbine, Amphistaff, Magma Pebbles, Plasma Eel, Thud Bugs

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dDgSUA3jD-w​

A sharp piece of coral drug across the cheek, Yurzhoc looked up towards the grey sky and smiled. The blood would consecrate this ground for their purpose, the drip drop of life was but a meager offering to Yun-Yammka. Soon, the blood would flow faster than any flooding riptide through this canyon, the life force tearing at the very world beneath it's presence. Hoc couldn't wait, a thirst overwhelming him as he looked about the vessels that exited from the Yorik-trema. Modified and grown to extra lengths, they carried Rakamats towards the opening of the space in between the rocky outcroppings that would serve as their battle arena.

The Vonduun Skerr Kyrric swelled with hunger against his chest as Yurzhoc rubbed it emphatically, Stebbles clinging to his right arm in anticipation. The Rakamat, just like any beast of the Legion Yun'Do, found shaping with Tall-Yor, in order to lead them into battle with purpose and mission. Beast Masters sat upon their back, no different from the Elite Warriors except that part of their training had been partitioned towards communication with the war beasts of the Yuuzhan Vong. As they moved forward, the Mern Kane began their drone like defenses at the neck of the canal, beastless vong setting up commbuzzers and lumpen and Tohklor Tallow.

As they did, the General of this effort sat upon his Nuhlrokka and prepared for the fight. With a pat of the old insect and a laugh, with the battle soon upon them, the insect lifted from the ground and began to hover. Such was it's way, giddy with anticipation. And with a fleeting glance, the monster took off into the sky, looking to scout and relay information back to the cognition throne. Glowbugs on the ground would instantly translate what Hoc viewed into something palpable, something touchable, as the strategy began to unfold. Below, commbuzzers began to vibrate with a sense that non legion members had suddenly increased in the canyon and in generalist directions. Given the initial fly over, it would be simple to deduce location - but with everything else at their disposal, that task was at hand with the ease of the commbuzzer, cognition throne, and Nuhlrokka contingent under command of the Supreme Commander. Tohklor tallow insects would begin to be deployed, leaping from the top of the canyon on command, as they slicked the entrance with near frictionless secretion. Behind that line, nested in the canyon, Yuuzhan Vong hunters would don their cloaks as they began to feed the rakamat and warkeepers, preparing for artillery strikes on the coordination with the Cognition Throne. Behind the neck of the canyon, the now powered off Yorik-Trema would begin to belch forward grutchinya, prepared for deployment.

And then it would happen, Rakamats would begin their initial volley of engorged and enlarged Yaret-Kor. Their aim: F8, F7, and E8. There, they had a clear line of fire but even so, the Yaret-Kor could work with the aid of gravity. From the massive turrets upon Rakamat back, 900 mm molten stone would be projected with the power often considered equivalent or greater than the counterpart laser beams, plasma, or turbo lasers, at a rate of 1 per thirty seconds, from each rakamat, staggered in timing to give the illusion of continuous bombardment. With an optimum range of 5 km, the enemy or scouting parties would be well within reach of the kinetic and splash damage. And the sounds of the explosions would echo across the canyon to the musical symphony of the booming laughter of Yurzhoc Shain.


NPC Modified Template:

Spoiler

Units:
30 Yuuzhan Vong Elite Warriors (Hunters)/Beast Tamers
20 Mern Kane
4 Rakamat
2 Warkeepers
1 Nuhlrokka

Objective: Crush the enemies, see them driven before us, hear the lamentations of their women
Location: J13
What's Happening: Forces are accumulating at canyon canal. Yurzhoc Shai, current group commander, is scouting at safe distance on Nuhlrokka and communication is occurring between warmaster and legion infantry, responsive with cognition hoods, glowbugs, and villips. Firing upon F8, F7, and E8 with powerful Yaret-Kor magma projectiles.

Yuuzhan Vong Equipment and Munitions:

Singularity Mines, Plasma Eel, Grutch Nul, Chitin Carbines, Blorash Jelly, Amphistaff, Thud Bugs and Variants, Huun, Firejelly, Blazebug (maps), Lumpen (ident), Tohklor Tallow, Grutchinya, Hermetically sealed Vonduun Skerr Kyrric, Vonduun Skerr Kraetos, Magma pebbles, Cloak of Nuun

 

[Disciple]

Objective: B
Location: Section 1
Allies: Me!
Enemies: Me! Also, [member="Norrin Fulk"]
Gear: Body, Sabers


In the interim, the rest of the Sith squad that had been hanging around with him had been... handled. Quite violently and suddenly, judging by the sprays of blood that had coated the walls and ceiling. Pools were on the floor but that was to be expected. Sitting in one of the puddles, slapping his hands down for momentary splash, Disciple frowned and his face darkened accordingly.

"Childish." He proclaims, though no one was here but him. "So very childish."

It was as much a self judgement as it was one against the Sith who had sought to attack him. Looking down at his blaster scorched body, he huffed in annoyance even as it melted before his eyes only to reshape as though nothing had happened. "To think they thought to save themselves. But they're a part of me now, yessssss." Hissing the last syllable of the elongated word, he reached out with his prodigious mind for anyone near.

Ah, he recognized the Grandmaster in the adjacent area. And someone else. Probably someone who thought themself the Master's equal. They might be, they might not. Let the two of them play; there was no fun in a tag team anyway.

Huffing again, a finger trailed through the hardening liquid, creating a gentle wake through its passage. "I'm so alone."

"Ah well," he begins, dragging the nearest body over for uh... parts gathering, "...it's time to get to work." Humming quietly to himself, he began gathering various limbs, dragging bodies to him with the Force, oblivious to anyone and anything around him.

"The hip bone's connected to the... shoulder bone!" That wasn't how it normally worked, but, well, Disciple didn't allow himself to be constrained by the bounds of 'logic.' What a nonsense word. Really quite useless. "And a little bit of alchemy in my life."

"A little bit of zombies by my side." Tinker, tailor, soldier, corpse.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]Objective B[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]Location: Sitting on a ledge[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]Enemies: [member="Kana Truden"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]Allies: N/A[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]Boredom.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]It was the singular experience that the Sith Lord was feeling these days, boredom and that tiredness that seeped into the bones and didn’t want to leave it again. The war was trundling on and there did not seem to be any progress in it, they were fighting because that’s what they did - Carach couldn’t even bring himself to [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6666666666667px]hate[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6666666666667px] the other side, how could he? They were just another side, all trying to survive in an endless war that had been going on for years now.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]How many years? Six? Seven? It was hard to keep track now.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]But Carach still went on, ever the faithful and loyal soldier, the Voice of the Dark Lord himself and he was tired of this endless campaigning that did not seem to bring any changes to the Galaxy. Just another war, just another field of battle seeped with blood and despair.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]Was this the vision of the Dark Lord? Surely not. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]Carach sighed and waited for the battle to begin, hopefully it would be over soon so he could go back to doing something that was [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6666666666667px]worthwhile.[/SIZE]

 

[Ellie Mors]

Objective: B (Battle the Grandmaster)
Location: Section 2 > Section 1
Allies: The Dark Side
Enemies: [member="Corvus Raaf"]
Gear: Lightsabers, Singlet, Cloak, Arm, Eyes
Theme: Zombie by The Cranberries

Spoiler

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Ejga4kJUts[/media]

​

The proponents of the Dark Side that emphasized the importance of emotions used in synchronicity with the force often related two very different feelings as one and the same. Hatred, Love, the two sides of the same coin. At some point the two feelings become so strong that they blend together, a mental blur that belies insanity, and it is at that point that the darkness and dangers of emotional ties becomes truly prevalent, it was why the Jedi strayed from love in the Old Republic, why they fell. There was no pandering to love ones that offered bias in saving one child over many, it was the quickened fall to the dark side that made love so dangerous, that morphed it into hate. All around her, all around them, there were Sith and Jedi that fought for many reasons, many purposes, some for hatred of the other - a feeling she knew that some Jedi were guilty of harboring - and some for love of their families - something that even Sith could not shy from. But the irony of this invasion, to quell the Sith and their expansionist goals, was that even fighting the dark side was still just that - fighting. It bred hatred, for those that aligned themselves with the Sith, it bred angst and sorrow, for those that lost their loved ones in this war, and it would never end. No machination was present in this galaxy that could ever truly remove the Sith from the galaxy, even for the shortest of times. But these philosophical arguments did not bother Atrophia, she fought a much different battle than that of attrition, of petty personal beliefs. The Sith Lord that had lorded over the likes of Coruscant and Empress Teta approached the front lines of war with no further vested interest than to exchange blows with the grand master once again.

Had she sought out the woman to kill her? Perhaps not, but it could very well happen - though the reverse could also be true. Indeed the duel between [member="Corvus Raaf"], [member="Connor Harrison"], and herself had left a lasting impression on the Sith Lord, though at the time she hadn't known either of the other two. In time the two had arrived at various leadership roles, while Atrophia had fell into obscurity. Perhaps it had been meant to be that way, perhaps the two never would have met again if not for today. But it was that very machination that she rebelled against, that she fought. Fate. All those who were to love or to hate inevitably came to do both, and it was no flaw of organic design, no over-arching mistake, it was that incessant need for some high-handed power to alter the lives of those ignorant to its presence. But she was no fool, she was not blind to the way the galaxy worked, how it operated, she saw the way that things changed, drastically, simply to suit the arrival of a new power or the demise of an old one. If there was ever to truly be a destruction of either Sith or Jedi then it must be through the rebellion against that incorporeal governing body. For if there was no fate, what was she to tell herself? That her hatred for these Jedi turned into fascination, to admiration, to something other than the cold, dark, maniacal pain that had otherwise wracked her mind, heart, and body? Was she to admit that she could feel such trivial feelings such as love?

No.

Hatred flowed through her, it permeated her every fiber, and as warriors, soldiers, leaders and peons fell and killed around her she could feel it multiply. She consumed their grief, their rage, their sorrow and became a symbolical amalgam of all of their hate, such was the burden of a being born with the natural 'gift' of consume essence. There was a short list of Sith that had this curse throughout history, such as Vitiate and Scourge. Like them, she not only utilized the powers of the dark side, but she fed on its terror. That was more than the pretenders that rallied behind her could say for themselves, those puppets of a Dark Lord that carried the same gift. They paraded through the halls, the streets, swinging their lightsabers to a tune not their own, with an aim they did not believe, with a hate that was not of their creation. Mindless slaughter, robotic wars, this war had devolved into a simple game of chess, and she refused to play a part in this massive mockery of the Sith. So she sought out the Grand Master of the Jedi Order, [member="Corvus Raaf"]. They were the antithesis to the other, such polarizing forces steeped in their respective sides of the force. Two sides of the same coin. Where Atrophia felt at home with the hatred, Corvus was the doer of good, and the clash may have seemed inevitable, but it was anything but.

Her approach to the front lines appeared to be slowed further by the arrival of these Jedi, a very weak representation for what was once a veritable army of light. Soon she would find the woman that she sought, soon they would duel, but though her words had fallen on the ears of the Grand Master it had also been heard by many - many who had realized that if she was crazed enough to seek out their arguably most powerful leader then she must be just as grave a threat to their entire order. It was for this reason her approach was slowed, not by the stampeding run of cowards from the approaching darkness that blotted out their pathetic light, but by the foolish bravery of the dozens that sought to bide their Order's leadership time to arrive prepared and to give that Jedi just enough of an edge to succeed. But Atrophia was not to be hindered long by their wall of bodies, rushing at her with their waving lightsabers, and with the flick of her organic wrist she lit her lightsaber, a bright red glow illuminating her pale face, black make-up underlining her ruby-red eyes and curled, black, lips. One by one they fell, the Makashi duelist cutting through the wall with defined grace and speed, agility unrivaled by these amateurs.

"Flee."

 

[Kamon's OOC]

Objective: B
Location: Section 6
Allies: Um?
Enemies: Probably close to everyone.
Gear: Standard Force user combat armor (robes, light body armor on the chest, no helmet as he's not wearing his typical garb), lightsaber, datapad

Elian approached the depot's communications station, which was frantic with activity, and let himself in. A quick glance around showed him utter chaos. It was a madhouse. A small sigh passed between his lips as he tapped a single finger against his thigh. This wouldn't happen if I was in command of this place. All of these people would be fired. Except for... yes, there's one that seems in control of herself. He'd picked out a young woman, probably early thirties by human standards, who seemed in complete control as she manned her station. Her movements were fluid and crisp and she seemed unaffected by the rest of the stations staff. Yes, this was exactly who he was looking for.

He tapped a few commands on his datapad before careful steps weaved him through the room to the young woman. There, he reached out a hand to gently tap her on the shoulder. She looked up at him and blinked.

"A Chiss-" she said, surprised, but thoughtful.

"Quite so," Elian replied, producing his datapad. "I have a task for you. This datapad needs to be connected to our communications network so I can facilitate the organization of our forces. Can you do that for me?"

"I don't see why not, sir. It'll take a few moments."

"Very good."

The datapad was transferred to her, and he stood back. Arms crossed over his chest as he stood, looking somewhat pensive. That was, of course, a rouse, as it were. The datapad was running a hidden program. When she connected to their planetary network, it would seed itself within. No big deal at the moment, as it would just linger, inactive, but it would be useful in the future. In the meantime, the connection to the communications networks was what he really needed. Then he could begin tapping into the Republic network. Everything was going according to his hastily construed plan, and no one would be the wiser.