Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Invasion Hope Never Dies | GA Invasion of TSE held Ziost and Tiss'Sharl

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Objective: Beat up some Acolytes
Allies: Auteme Auteme | Aaran Tafo Aaran Tafo | Kisaku Oroken Kisaku Oroken
Enemies: Saket Keane Saket Keane | Darth Strosius Darth Strosius | Alina Tremiru Alina Tremiru
Items: Lightsaber, Robe, Pistol
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Honestly, he was nervous.

Multiple dark side presences could be felt around. Sure, one wouldn’t have shaken him so much. But the multiple he was feeling now? It started to make him a little worried.

Suddenly he received a telepathic message from Auteme. Thankfully he wasn’t the only Jedi onboard that would fight the invaders. It seemed that Aaran was on the ship as well. Hopefully it would be enough.

So many breaches could be felt throughout the ship. He wanted to believe that the Alliance troopers could be enough to beat them, but he knew deep down that it wouldn’t be enough.

As he ran along the corridor he felt his hood blow off of his head. The robe flew in the wind as he sped down the hallway. His new robe was a much nicer fit than his previous one, and the phrik helps it deflect lightsaber very well.

Reaching his left hand downward he shot the lightsaber out of the mechanical arm. The hilt slid into his hand as he held it tightly. Flicking the switch the lightsaber turned on.

The blue light illuminated the hallway. Man, it sure felt good to use this saber again. It had been too long.
 

Sith Dominance

Guest
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Objective: Decimate the Frontlines
Allies: TSE
Support: AT-HA Formations | Talon Class Gunship | Vindican Class Transport Squadrons | Imperial Legionnaire | SI - MCTT | Warblade Repulsortank
Enemies: NIO / GA
Tags: Valen | Cotan Sar'andor Cotan Sar'andor | DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran | Captain Raith Captain Raith | Irveric Tavlar Irveric Tavlar | Tulan Kor Tulan Kor | Maynard Treicolt Maynard Treicolt | Willan Tal Willan Tal | Zirell Marxon Zirell Marxon | Kal Ostan Kal Ostan
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A cascade of explosions erupted across the frontlines in a curtain of fire and death, all to cover the approach of the incoming reinforcements. Sprays of laser fire covered the ground to 'soften' the landing as two squadrons of Vindican Transports landed around the acolyte. Hundreds of legionnaires would flood out. Captains barking orders to their squads, sharpshooters setting up close by. The one closest to Valen had much more ornately armored (In comparison to the average troops) step out and approach him.

"Major Armtre of the 67th Legion. We're here to assist. Who's in charge here?" Only a fraction of the army had landed, and already the Transports, escorted by the Talon Gunships, were heading back to retrieve more of the forward guard. The rest of the Legion was already splitting off for their various assaults on the city. "We'll have the city surrounded within moments to prepare the siege." The masked figure grinned behind his helmet. After the assault on the Rakatan Temple, the once Sargent had been promoted. And now he wasn't going to be caught without some heavy artillery.

"At least for our front I brought some gifts. They'll lay the pain from the distance so we can punch through."
 
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Objective: Destroy the Light Side Nexus
Location: Aboard her Lumiya Class Interceptor
Equipment: See Sig
Allies: TSE
Enemies: NIO / GA
Tags: Darth Strosius Darth Strosius | Saket Keane Saket Keane | Aaran Tafo Aaran Tafo | Auteme Auteme | Okkeus Dainlei Okkeus Dainlei | Kisaku Oroken Kisaku Oroken
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"Just- Why is your foot- This was a terrible idea." Frustration leaked into Alina's voice even as the scrambler attached changed the sound entirely. Cleaner was spilled, they were forced into the tight confines of this closet. Why was it so small!? The poor janitors who had to work in a place like this. Well, it wasn't actually bad. She was just annoyed.

They spilled out one by one. The red visor stared over towards the sound of the multiplying Sithspawn. They'd serve as enough of a distraction for the Trio's mission, so long as they weren't caught. She nodded as Saket started to make his report about the west. They needed to head that direction, but before he could finish the sentence he fell.

For a moment she thought they'd been found and attacked. No, he slipped on soap. Good thing she had her mask on to hide the unamused expression below. He wasn't the only one who heard the footsteps, though. Her head snapped around at the thudding. Rapidly approaching. Certainly a Jedi. "Guess we're fighting."

Then she was gone. A blip to the human eye as the Force flooded through her body. Her limbs. Matukai had become like breathing for her. There was only that blur of movement as she rounded the corner on the footsteps. She hadn't even seen who it was as the crossguarded saber burned into existence. A single, powerful slash of her blade to overwhelm her foe and bring him down before he could tell anyone else.
 

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The Aftermath
Ziost Academy
Zaavik Perl Zaavik Perl | closed​

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Ziost Academy | The Aftermath.
Zaavik Perl Zaavik Perl | closed

The Jedi had come with purging fire.

Why?


They spoke of hate. And murder. And evil. They accused her of these things as they-- . . .

She wondered if they ever bothered to look in the mirror.


She hated them.


A noise caught in her chest as she fell to her knees, the battle scarred remains of the Academy gates in pieces around her. Dust coated the crumbled space in a thick layer, turning the once vibrant place into a wash of melancholy gray. She swallowed against her dry tongue and took in a shaky breath. There were no sparks of life within the abandoned structure.

Jedi were heartless creatures.

Her fingers coiled into the debris around her. Her vision blurred. The space became assaulted with the sudden noises of a pained animal, rickashaying off the structure in a chilling echo.

It took her a moment to recognize the noise came from her. It took another breath for her to feel the dirt press against her face. Her grief overruled her, breaking her down and curling her up.

Why did she care?

What did she expect?

Twenty-four lives had been saved that day because of her treason, and it still didn't feel like enough.


She wasn't enough.



Repulsorengines roared as three Sith-Imperial TIEs flew overhead. Zaavik dove forward, landing shoulder first against a slanted bit of war-rubble, and ideally out of sensor view of the passing aircraft. His head followed their pass with a high arc, eyes settling on the horizon as they grew smaller against the sky. Zaavik remained behind cover until he could no longer hear the bellow of their engines.

Once he was certain they hadn't noticed him, he brought one hand up and vaulted over his cover. Boots crunched into the dirt and grime beneath, the toe of the left knocking against something hard. The sensation drew his gaze; a corpse of the GADF color. The face, or what was left of it, was beyond any attempt of identification. A quick tug snapped the tags from around his neck, which Zaavik quickly pocketed.

There was a ripple in the force, a phantasmal lead that'd he'd unwittingly facilitated. Yet again he found it tugging him along, even now in almost direct opposition to what he should have been doing. Here was Golden Starbird Recipient Zaavik Dagoth, War Hero of the Alliance, and Shadow of the New Jedi Council, blatantly defying orders. Few people familiar with him beyond name would be surprised, but it certainly wasn't a good look.

Not like that that had ever stopped him from doing anything.

The distinct sound of a footstep suddenly overtook every other sensation as a precognitive sense of danger washed over him. Emerald plasma ignited, elbow bent, and crimson clashed over his shoulder with defensive viridescence. He whirled, sending strikes forward as he advanced. An opening presented itself, and one upwards strike sundered both the assailant's hands at the wrists. The followthrough sent the greenish blade sinking into the cest, incinerating the heart with the contained heat of a sun.

As his eyes met his assailant's, he finally actually noticed the person before him, rather than the red, glowing danger. Zeltron, female, about his age. The look on her face was unbearable as she experienced her last agonizing moment of life. Zaavik avoided her gaze and brought his foot upwards as she fell to her knees. His boot pressed against her upper breast and collar bone, forcing the now limp cadaver from his blade and slumping onto the floor with an extension of his knee.

He looked down past the wisps of smoke that rose from the hole in her chest. Like him, so very young, but unlike him, so very dead. She'd thrown any immunity their shared youth might have offered when she assumed the intent to kill. The lifeless, pinkish irises stared at him, aimless and devoid of intent, yet still staring right at him. He averted his gaze sharply, squeezing his eyes closed with a closed-mouth grimace.

It took a moment for him to muster the strength to unfreeze himself, but he eventually managed to press on. It was far from the first life he'd taken, but as if adhering to some intangible, alien logic, it had managed to affect him. Perhaps the look on her face reminded him of the Senator. Maybe it was the turbulent ripple he followed leaking some kind of secondhand aguish into his shred of empathic capability. It was morbid in the context of only just taking a life, but he wondered if he was losing his grip.

This is a real bad time to get soft, he thought to himself. Any life lost was a tragedy, but it was the unfortunate reality of war that death is callous, sudden, and brushed aside unceremoniously. At least until the battle was over. Many cried in outrage at these realities, others sought to minimize their existence entirely. Few of them were had ever been present to witness them. Fewer of them were forced to be haunted by the fact that they were the last thing some people would ever see. Those who had to live with both, fewer than Hutt's teeth they were, yet still somehow naive.

Zaavik envied them, those whose spectacles would not allow them to stare into that abyss. It had gone beyond staring, or the staring back commonly associated with it. It was now a listless drifting in that abyss, indifference as a sail. A slow and insidious usurper was apathy. Altruism's throne in Zaavik's heart had never had a legitimate claim to oppose it until now. For as long as it could last, the only thing keeping the seats as they were was spurn and stubbornness.

A noise like something dying caught his attention as he had trekked deeper. The spectral sensation reverberated the sound in a sense beyond the real. He shifted course toward it, skulking through what remained of an atrium. The sound continued, sounding more human the closer he came. Emerging from behind a shred of metal and stone now unrecognizable, he was greeted to the sight of a familiar, red-headed figure curled into the dirt.

Zaavik stood a mere two meters away, devoid of any verbal sentiment. An empathetic grimace seized his features, but he didn't say anything. What was he supposed to say? He could easily cut her down now, taking advantage of her vulnerable state. Yet, he didn't, or more accurately couldn't. Not even apathy could drive him to snuff someone out in the literal fetal position. But, truthfully, it went beyond that in its own inexplicable way. Anti-climax to their menagerie of encounter aside, it just didn't feel right.

Even with all this consideration, he said nothing.


A familiar presence washed over her, their energy burning like an inferno inside the force. She sat up with a gasp, the eyes of Zaavik Perl Zaavik Perl emerging from the wreckage that had undone her.

"What are you doing here?" She accused, her words harsh with sudden embarrassment.

She knew what her Master would have said if she had found her like this. Her peers. Her instructors-- The weakness was seeping out of her eyes and she couldn't stop it. At some point it had all just become too much.

Something in this place made the slivers of stress exploded into cracks. She could feel it-- The wild edges to her thoughts that she didn't care to reign in. Was that the darkness, or was it her? She didn't care anymore. She had had enough.


The distant sounds of the invasion echoed over to them, the ground vibrating under her hands. She hastily wiped the moisture from her face, smearing around the dirt and dust of a battle she hadn't even fought. She was painfully aware of the lit saber at his side, the vulnerability of the moment sending adrenaline pulsing through her. Sweat joined the snot on her upper lip.

"They got to you, didn't they." A set of blood shot eyes leveled on him, the sky blue swimming with betrayal. She forced in a breath, trying to relax her seizing diaphragm and maintain an ounce of dignity. She raised her chin.

"Well, go ahead then. Do it."

 
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if they're watching anyways


Auteme wondered if she had some hidden claustrophobia.

The winding passages of Prosperity seemed to choke and squeeze with every step closer to the booted footsteps and blaster fire. The war had come even to a place so sacred and safe. Perhaps no place was safe anymore. The security of the great vessel pushed against the Sith boarders; but they continued to pour in, wave after wave to erode the Prosperity's defenses.

Yet equally she found herself freed by her proximity to the other Jedi -- she fell into step with Okkeus without a word, their minds closely linked to face the battle ahead. They didn't have to search far to find it. Close to the 'edge' of the enormous ship, the hull was pierced by boarding craft. Down the hall she spotted those black-dressed legionnaires. They spotted her. She raised her hands.

Okkeus, quick as ever, launched himself forward. Auteme couldn't keep up, but her role allowed her to focus on the flow of the Force. A shield to protect the many swords raised against the Sith. With her mind focused she placed barriers to cut off some of the soldiers from attacking Okkeus while he dealt with the others.

For a moment she found herself frightened the efficiency. He struck them down, a storm of blades, calm and focused; she protected him as he did. Did that make her an accomplice, a murderer, even? She'd pushed those thoughts out so many times that it had become routine. She could protect her friends, even if they couldn't save everyone.

That blare of danger rang out in her mind. Her gaze shifted to the corridor to her left, just as three balls of thrashing meat and hunger came tearing through the hall. Rathtars -- not normal ones, either. She could sense in their hunger the touch of darkness that was so common with Sithspawn. Their tentacles lashed out towards her. She broke the meld for a moment, not wanting to split the focus of the other Jedi while she dealt with the rathtars.

Her hands rose, and a shimmering barrier of light with it. It flared up in the rathtars's path. She repeated the motion again, placing a second barrier at the other end of the hall to trap the creatures in. They roared and thrashed against the light. Their need to feed clashed with the pain they received from their attempts to break through.

She dove back into the meld, only for the scream of danger to grow louder. Not for her -- for Aaran. A corridor not far from here, a hidden attacker. She tensed up as her senses were carried to him. Yet her sight stayed. She saw, almost moving in slow motion, a legionnaire headed to attack Okkeus from behind. She didn't know if he could sense it. She needed to help.

"Watch out!" She thrust her hands forward, telekinetically shoving the legionnaire against the wall to Okkeus's left.
 
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Objective: Beat up some Acolytes
Allies: Auteme Auteme | Aaran Tafo Aaran Tafo | Kisaku Oroken Kisaku Oroken
Enemies: Saket Keane Saket Keane | Darth Strosius Darth Strosius | Alina Tremiru Alina Tremiru
Items: Lightsaber, Robe, Pistol
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The blue blade struck the legionnaire, slamming him into the ground. A red slash mark rested on the attacker’s chest as he lied on the ground, motionless.

Pointing his lightsaber downward he caught his breath for a second. His deep breathing wasn’t really helping calm him down, but he wasn’t sure anything would. Adrenaline coursed through his veins with intense speed.

Still trying to catch his breath, he turned towards Auteme. She helped warn him of the legionnaire, right after the Rathtar attack. Without her, he would probably be dead.

“Hey, thanks for the help right there.”

He noticed something wasn’t right. It looked as if Auteme was almost on the verge of tears. Did she get injured?

“Auteme, are you alright?”

She simply nodded her head, must meaning she didn’t want to talk about it. Fair enough with him. Turning his head he looked down the hallway to where Aaran was more than likely beating up the Sith boarders.

“C’mon, let’s go help Aaran.”

He started to run down the hallway. Who knows how Aaran was holding up. Plus, he really wanted to beat up some more people.
 
Handsome blindfolded hyper-religious whackjob
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Kisaku Oroken Kisaku Oroken Okkeus Dainlei Okkeus Dainlei Auteme Auteme

Darth Strosius Darth Strosius Alina Tremiru Alina Tremiru Saket Keane Saket Keane

The issue of course with Alina's tactic was that she applied the Force to her body before she struck. With the Taozin amulet in place. Her presence was but the barest murmur at the edge of his senses. So minor he could have ignored it. But as she activated her Makutai technique. She might as well shouted in his ear that he was going to be struck. He was already on edge with everything going on, so the element of surprise was long gone. His reaction only enhanced by the warning that he felt through the link with Auteme. His response a simple wave of reassurance.

He would be alright.

As he rounded the corner. He ready for the oncoming blow. Simply allowing his body to drop, using his forward momentum to simply slide underneath the strike. Allowing himself to roll right back to his feet, not behind the Sith invader.

A low groan of annoyance came from Aaran's mouth. Now that the cloaking amulet had been discarded. He could recognize the person that stood before him. "You again?" He asked, tone almost bored as his eyes focused on Alina. "I'm not at death's door this time. So you don't have a handicap." He offered. "So I will accept your surrender now. Hand over your blade before you make a mess of things please."

Inwardly he allowed his senses to be transmitted through the link with his comrades. Giving them all a vision of who stood before him. Warning them of the danger that lay ahead. Telling them to prepare themselves for battle.
 
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TEMPLE ENGINEERING CORE, THE PROSPERITY
NEW JEDI ORDER
TO ENGAGE: Chasianna Chasianna
THE GREAT MISCONCEPTIONS OF ME

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Dagon's pacing in the direction of the hangars came to a halt at the sight of Alliance soldiers lying dead on the cold durasteel floor. He crouched to inspect one of the bodies, their armor indicating marine patrols aboard the mobile temple and their cause of death - CryoBan. The weaponized chemical reminded him of Keri Valtz, a notorious Coruscanti crimelord known for employing the carbon-freezing agent in his hit operations. The Force tugged him to move.

Guided by the Light on the trail of the lingering darkness and the corpses left in its wake, the Jedi followed the 'scent' like a loth-wolf stalking its prey. He passed through another patrol, their bodies staggered on the deck; some bleeding from their ears suggesting the use of sonic weaponry and others with smoldering blaster holes in their chest. The entry wounds still radiating familiar heath of plasma. He was getting closer.

The Jedi doubled his haste, opening himself to the Force allowing it, rather than his investigative mind, to find the assailant before another stack of bodies littered the sacred temple. Only to arrive too little, too late. A turn left, a turn right and he hit the brakes. A midget-sized Sith standing between him and the engineering core, piles of corpses of good men and women lying cold in her feet. The trail of death and darkness stopped here.

Snap-hiss.

The blue blade hissed to life illuminating the shadows of his scowl. He felt Aeric Kaze Aeric Kaze 's gaze upon him, his sulfuric eyes piercing his soul reminding Dagon of his failure.

No more brothers should suffer the same fate.

The embers of conviction within lit ablaze, the hallowed flame of the Light traversing through the fabric of the Force and the Jedi charged straight at the Sith. His free hand wielding the Force sending various panels and tiles at the enemy as a distraction as he pushed his back into a violet overhead strike.

ALLIES: GA | NIO | Kaska Arden Kaska Arden | Michael Sardun Michael Sardun
ENEMY: TSE
 

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I M P E R A T O R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
TASK FORCE IMPERATOR | BATTLE GROUP 'ENIGMA'
501st LEGION | GLADIUS COMPANY | DEMON COMPANY
ZIOST

Armor | Rifle | Pistol | Void | Melee | Grenades
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THE MOB RULES
They were killers, each and all of them. Though that was the universal, binding trait to the Stormtrooper Corps, Demon Company wore the frigid brutality on their sleeves. The frigid gaze shield beneath the frigid eyes. It was almost difficult to piece together that at one point, these men were in service to the Silver Jedi, a government who'd tied its own hands behind its back time and time again when facing its existential enemy. They still squatted on conquered ground and they did nothing to stem the tide but align in a pact with the Sith led manipulators.

He couldn't imagine anything more vindicating to the Antarian defector than to see the prophets of false virtue fight alongside the Sith on Dantooine. Even if it was in a morbid, corrupt fashion.

<"Today we have the opportunity to make the Sith bleed for one of their coveted holy worlds...it couldn't be better."> Irveric stated in agreement to the Commando.

The battle was taking shape soon enough. There was always a stage of planning prior to each large scale engagement, extensive and well thought with the New Imperial military minds being among the best in the Galaxy by now. Otherwise, they would've snapped the short end of the stick they had through the Braxant Campaign. Instead, they turned water into wine and turned the Sith war machine into a nation on the run.

But this was a different battle, a scrambled run to relieve in the wake of a strategic failure at the hands of the Galactic Alliance. It was to little fault of their own. Deep reaching strikes into Sith territory were costly for the New Order who had neutral space lanes to cut through where as the Galactic Alliance's means of resupply was snatched in their shadow, Korriban and Felucia.

As the New Imperial 'Lionhearts' cut through narrow corridors to reinforce and relieve the heart of New Adasta, Enigma would ensure that the encirclement stay broken, that the Sith forces be cut off from one another and made into disarray. If they could establish this, the Sith attacks unto the 7th would be separate, sporadic, ineffective and undisciplined.

Spotting a unit of Sith Imperials moving to bolster the encirclement, Irveric's scope of command ranged in on them immediately. If he could establish that any new Sith unit into the fray would be immediately put to the torch, he'd hope the result would be a short sighted adjustment, a greater commitment of forces or the abandonment of the assault all together.

<"Enigma Actual to Gladius Company, you have your drop zone, pinging coordinates momentarily."> Air space was contested, but that hardly hindered them.

But to unsheath the Gladius, he first had to throw the pilum.

The tAT-SB walkers and Cataphracts moving behind the 501st spearhead in their lumbering approach received the word of command.

<"Enigma Actual to Halberd.">

<"Copy, Enigma.">

<"You see their reinforcements, bearing west, northwest?">

<"Affirmative, Imperator.">

<"I don't wish to anymore.">

<"Understood.">
The commander replied and in the lower howl of the lumbering metallic joints, the walkers twisted to aim the siege cannons toward the landing transports and gunships. Bearing their weight into the broken earth beneath for stability, silence snapped at the air before they began a punishing volley of turbolaser fire bearing down over them.

<"Commander Kor. Take your men along with the 4th Company, 501st and aim for the head. Find who their on field commanders are and eliminate."> Irveric commanded the way of Demon Company.

Thy will be done. All the while, the remaining bulk of the infantry and armor accompanying Tavlar continued to make way in carving their corridor into New Adasta, to break the Sith encirclement in the hopes of driving them in or away from the city. Either which way, they'd be led into the hands of Alliance or Imperial fury.

ALLIES | NIO | GA | Tulan Kor Tulan Kor | Tiberius | DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran | Willan Tal Willan Tal | Kal Ostan Kal Ostan | Cotan Sar'andor Cotan Sar'andor | Captain Raith Captain Raith
ENEMIES | TSE | ENGAGING Sith Dominance | Valen | Irina Volkov | OPEN
 

Jorus Fel

Guest
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G L A D I U S
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION
TASK FORCE IMPERATOR
NIO // ALIES // Tulan Kor Tulan Kor | Irveric Tavlar Irveric Tavlar | DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran | Willan Tal Willan Tal | Kal Ostan Kal Ostan | Cotan Sar'andor Cotan Sar'andor | Captain Raith Captain Raith
TSE // ENEMIES // ENGAGING: Sith Dominance | Valen | Irina Volkov

F A L L S C H I R M
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T H E _ R E T U R N _ O F _ G L A D I U S _ C O M P A N Y

Etched upon our breastplates the names or designations of our fallen comrades. The Imperator's way. The Captain - Belisarius Belisarius , who defied the Sith one last time on the streets of Harnaidan; the Lieutenant who became our next Captain - Agrippa Agrippa . Our valiant sergeants - Hooks, Krayt, Hawkeye, Bingo, Faceless. They all perished, along with the rest of the Company, in what became known as the Gladius Charge of Fortress Carnifex. There where we planted our standard atop to be seen by all.

I had shamefully survived. Me, then the standard-bearer of the Company.

On Helgard I paid only a portion of my humiliating debt back, there was still much more to pay. Bastion was to be the end of it all, we once believed; only for the menace of the Serpent to flash its fangs back at us. When the olive branch was poisoned and withered away under the ruins of Dantooine, we acknowledged our purpose and sealed our fates. From here to Kaas there would be no remorse, no respite, no quarter given. Every breath we took, every inch of flesh we shed, every drop of blood we gave served one goal and one goal only - the extermination of the Sith.

And here we were, aboard multiple dropships piercing through the red clouds of Ziost soaring above the corpse-littered battlefield around and within New Adasta. Nestled in the city were the forces of the Alliance fighting tooth and nail against the encroaching darkness.

"Never seen you so lost in thought, Captain." Espada snickered almost silently behind him.

"You will never let go, will ya?" the mantle of Captain never sat right with me. I never was a quarter the man Belisarius or Agrippa were, not even a fraction. And I would never be.

"Let go of what?" she feigned ignorance.

"You know damn well, 'spada."

The sergeant shrugged, "It is who you are now, Tiberius. Whether you want it or not. Law of the Company dictates the standard-"

"I. Know."

"So fethin' act like it already."

A smile curved my lips, my eyes narrowing sideways at her. She was a sarcastic schutta, hardly had anything good to say unless its a dig at you. The rare instances of inspiration always warmed my gut.

"Or I will." she gave me a sly grin. "I'd do a better job, that's for sure."

"Go ahead then." I snorted and my ribs received a nasty elbow. "Ow."

<"Enigma Actual to Gladius Company, you have your drop zone, pinging coordinates momentarily."> the Imperator's commanding voice cracked through the comms and I hastily slammed my helmet on. Everyone immediately followed suit. The HUD stuttered, then flashed to life revealing the tactmap of the battle. A real-time live feed of enemy and allied positions.

<"Roger that, Impera--Enigma Actual.">

<"Looks like Sith reinforcements moving to encircle."> Dumdum stated the obvious through the comms.

<"Looks like it."> Bigfoot agreed.

<"Ah, chit, here we go again - he's sending us straight into the chitter, ain't he?"> Rebel muttered.

<"Bitchin' already, Rebel?"> Espada came in sharply. <"We're not even down yet, man!">

<"Alright, cut it."> I intervened putting the usual, short squabble between my sergeants to rest. <"Check jetpacks, gear and equipment real quick. Airborne insertion point's coming close real fast.">

Series of green lights flickered on my HUD. We were ready.

<"You're a go, Captain."> the flight officer called. <"Hatches open, give them hell, Gladius.">

Sure will.

There was no inspirational talk, no shining poetry to lift the hearts of heroes.

For we neither have hearts and we sure as hell are no heroes.

We are degenerates.

We are traitors.

We are Gladius Company.

And one by one from the open hatches of the squadron of dropships, we began our airborne descent upon our nemesis.
 

Kaska Arden

black holes, solid ground



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T H EㅤD A R K E RㅤT H EㅤW E A T H E R
T E M P L EㅤE N G I N E E R I N GㅤC O R E
P R O S P E R I T Y

Lightsaber | Belmont's Resolve | JSTP Armour
Uproar Blaster | Pamarthen Honor Blade

A L L I E SㅤG Aㅤ/ㅤN I O
Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze


E N E M I E SㅤT S E
Chasianna Chasianna


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Death had arrived on Prosperity.

Corpses filled the corridors. Familiar faces, Marines she had encountered in passing during her stays on the mobile battlestation, stared back at her accusingly as she passed. Their expressions contorted and frozen in approximations of the shock, pain and terror that had dominated their final moments. Though it was beginning to dissipate, the sickly bittersweet aroma of CryoBan lingering on their bodies was unmistakable.

Others still had met their end with sonics, sabers and blasters. The way they were arrayed was informative as it was gut wrenching. The ruthless efficiency in which they had been cut down painting a clear and concise picture of their attacker. A single assailant; smaller than the humanoid norm judging from the angle of attacks, yet fast enough that the disadvantage of reach hadn't even played a factor as they cut a swath through the marines. The cuts were clean and concise, designed to kill a target in the shortest time possible.
That meant they were well trained, disciplined and fought with a very clear sense of purpose that went beyond the normal Sith desire for sowing fear, chaos and suffering.

That didn't bode well.

"Fair winds until the tide welcomes you home," she intoned softly as she left the corpses all in her wake. The hollow words of a Pamarthen prayer for the departed would be of little comfort to their lost souls, but there was nothing else she could offer them now beyond the prospect of bringing their murderer to justice.

The doors of the Engineering Core lay in disarray as she arrived. The thick durasteel shutters rent and destroyed from an unseen attack. Caution slowed her advance, the tremors within the current of the Force giving her a split second of warning before a set of panels and tiles went whistling through the air she would have occupied had she maintained her course and speed. The familiar presence of Dagon, now a flaring beacon of Light, radiated from beyond The shear magnitude of his righteous indignation catching her off guard.

Michael Sardun Michael Sardun 's gift had already taken root.

She gritted her teeth and ducked through the wreckage, coming into the Core through the opposite side from Dagon, placing the shadow that had drawn them both here between them. Her saber brought up in a guard as she sought to close off the possibility escape route while assessing the scene.

 
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Allies: DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran Irveric Tavlar Irveric Tavlar Tulan Kor Tulan Kor
Enemies: At least Valen


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Cotan took the offered flask with a nod of thanks, slugging back a decent amount. As Erskine continued talking he let the whiskey sit, sloshing it back and forth a bit before swallowing with an appreciative glance back at the flask. "Good pick," he said approvingly, before passing back the flask and following the Brigadier-General's gesture to the map, running over the situation quickly. While he'd never much been one for this sort of work, tactics and strategy didn't outright escape his understanding either...and the Galidraani strategy was relatively easy to pick up on.

"Devious," he observed. "I like it. Hope it doesn't cost you too many people, though—I'd rather they all get to go home, rather than be remembered as heroes." It was inevitable that people would die—especially those who ultimately didn't deserve it—but his opinion on such was always the same. As much as it was a fact of war, the role of the tactician to use their men as tools, he still didn't enjoy it.

But hopefully General Barran's strategy would minimize the loss, especially in the face of what else they were about to deal with. As the holomap started to show new blips coming in from one side, Cotan glanced back out the viewports just to see a host of Sith-Imperial transports coming in to disgorge their contents near where the acolyte he'd seen was in the middle of fighting.

"Bloody hell. Really? It's like they have this sixth sense that says I'm here specifically." He glanced over at Erskine, then over at the comm equipment. "Care if I take your comms for a moment? Maybe it'll help make sure they listen to your relay." Polite request aside, he didn't really wait before doing exactly what he asked if he could do, taking over the microphone on the wider joint-force comm frequencies.


"All Galactic Alliance forces and Jedi within range of the Blue-Heart Brigade, this is Grand Marshal and Circle Councilor Cotan Sar'andor confirming the looped transmission. We've got Sith forces landing groundside trying to surround the city; they're caught in the middle, but they've got actual saber-jockeys with them, and I'm going to need all the help I can get dealing with that side of things. All the rest of you, follow along the Blue-Heart's strategy as best you can until the situation dictates otherwise, and may the Force be with you."

Giving a mildly-apologetic shrug to the Brigadier-General for not waiting for a response, Cotan glanced back out at the front lines of the battle. "Not a vibrosword," he said somewhat absent-mindedly, pulling the blade out slightly to show the icy blue aura it emanated. "A bit more old school, a lot more esoteric." He turned back to Erskine.

"Once you're in as close as you're comfortable with the ACV getting, just pop the hatch open again and watch your heads. I'll jump out and try to distract that Sith as much as possible—maybe even draw any more of them to me that I can, give all your boys the best possible chance. The tactics are your forte, not mine, after all. I'm just good at swinging a swo—hey, wait, did you say Barran? You aren't related to the Ollis that's been raiding Sith border worlds for a few years, are you? He helped me get out of there once, I got stuck in a bad spot between two fleets trying to hunt me down, and he launched a big distraction to get me out of there. Absolutely massive lad."
 
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[Location: Orbit of Ziost - Peacemaker{Negotiator-class Light Cruiser} - Bridge]
[Captain Giraan reporting in]
[Interacting with: Maijan Paisea Maijan Paisea ]

“They’re not real,” The new arrival had spoken, not muffled by the continuous clicking that filled the room, and the sounds of impacts resonating throughout a battered hull, “Once they’re fired on, I can try and make it look like the hit was absorbed by shields, but I can’t affect the enemy’s radars.”

"That's all I need, Miss...?"

“My name’s Maijan. Don’t need to worrrrry about how I got herrre –– the Agency has its wayze.” Maijan shrugged, “But they care enough to trry and give you all another chance to surrvive. I’m usually a last-measures kinda agent. Desperate times and stuff.”

"And none of that's classified?" Teica gave a much-needed laugh and let her finger dance along the display.

The captain's finger stopped only a centimeter away from an assortment of Sith Imperial ships, concentrated dead ahead. They could batter the small flotilla until they ran for cover, leaving a window of opportunity to break through.

The smell of smoke refused to die down, and the flurry of sparks could only fade a little. Booom. Booooom. The hull continued to play a deep percussion, while bridge officers joined in with rapid taps, and loud reports.

"Maijan, I need you to draw fire around..." Teica made wide circles about the mid-point, "..here. If everyone else focuses fire on these ships, we can break through and send in transports."

She wiped the sweat from her forehead as she turned to the rest of the bridge staff.

"Concentrate turbolasers Bearing 12 Mark 30!" The captain began along the blood-soaked walkway, gesturing for her guest to follow.

The final step had Teica pausing in her tracks. One step, and she'd be back where she started, standing before the viewscreen in the opening moments of the battle. The foot came down, and the room grew silent. Her breathing became apparent, and began to slow. May the darkness find light once more.

Turbolasers rotated about a dented hull, stained with varying degrees of black. Within cold and dark gun barrels, a tinge of red light grew in each. One second. Two. Three-

All at once, plasma bolts escaped the barrels, screaming, charging, and eventually dispersing along the shields of an enemy cruiser in a bright show of illumination.
 
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Objective III - Eviction
Equipment - In signature
Allies: TSE Sith Dominance Valen
Opponents: GA NIO Master Zoryu Master Zoryu
The chanting continued, weaving the strands of the spell together, sending pulses of darkness through the focii and into the storm above. Taeli herself was not among the sorcerers chanting, but they all knew the will of the Lady of Secrets shaped their work. Power surged, the dark clouds were rumbling with unnatural lightning, wanting to be unleashed... but not quite yet. Dark strings of energy formed around her fingers... and then she tilted her head, pausing...

She felt the touch of someone's sight, attempting to pierce through the protections she had woven around herself to stop beings from scrying her. It had been done to keep her activities hidden from even the great Seers that served Carnifex, an old spell of Darth Zannah's she had adapted for a modern age. It wasn't the dark touch of a Sith Seer trying though, it was... a Jedi.

And she smiled ever so slightly.

The dark strings around her hands vanished and she stepped outside of the ritual lattice's outer ring. A touch of the Force and the runes turned a navy blue, encircling the sorcerers weaving the spell. With that done, the layers of protection activated in case of certain actions taken by the coming Jedi or lurking enemies, she settled herself into a meditative state and entered the currents of the Force amidst the apparently scattered armor of warriors past. The Jedi coming was not one she remembered feeling before, but that was true of many of the Jedi that populated this second iteration of the New Jedi Order. She would know the presence of Coren or Cotan or Korr or any of the others. But this being seemed... older than other New Jedi she had encountered thus far. Interesting.

She would beckon for them to come, that he would have safe passage through the soldiers guarding the site for a time. She was curious at who this mysterious Master could be, but not so much that the work would be ignored. The focii behind her pulsed again, and the storm answered with a deeper rumble than before.

"Spread it," she ordered, not turning around or opening her eyes yet. The chanting of the sorcerers would change, adding a new layer to the spell weaving of Sith magic... and the storm would react. Dark clouds grew larger, the lightning intensified, and a fell wind would rise up. Slowly, oh so very slowly for now but not for long, the clouds would begin moving towards the city and defenders and besiegers alike would start to see evidence of the encroaching storm.

She idly wondered, as the working continued, if the Jedi would be able to figure out how to stop it before it was too late. It would be an interesting confrontation or conversation.

OOC:
For anyone at New Adasta, dark clouds are visible a couple klicks out from the city and are slowly coming towards the city
Captain Raith Captain Raith Irveric Tavlar Irveric Tavlar DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran Cotan Sar'andor Cotan Sar'andor Zark San Tekka Zark San Tekka
 
Enemy: Vaylin Vaylin
Objective: Cleanse.

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Shadows rose to challenge the Light.

The Light met it in kind.

Once he felt that presence nothing else mattered anymore. Sardun was a mere buoy, drifting on the tide of the Lightside, as it ushered him forward towards his target. It felt right and that was all that mattered. He vaulted out of a starship, he marched through hallways burnished with alarm lights, fellow soldiers fighting against boarders.

Until his footsteps took him into a specific set of rooms.

"I have heard your call, Sith." Sardun murmured softly as he entered the room. His wrist twisted and the doors sealed shut behind him. Only then did Sardun raise his hammer in the air.

A pulse of bright white light flared through the room.

"Time to be cleansed."

In this moment Michael Sardun was completely at peace. Deeply in tune with the Lightside of the Force. Those close to him like Kaska Arden Kaska Arden or those who had only recently experienced his touch such as Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze would feel it. The way his presence sung, challenging, invigorating those attuned to the Lightside of the Force.

A vergence was being shaped.
 
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Objective: Blow up some Sith starfighters
Allies: Siloh Riain | Leon Gallo Leon Gallo
Enemies: Seela Leini Seela Leini
Flying: X-Wing

———
The orange flight suit made him look fat.

Or maybe it was the few beers he had yesterday that did, but he was confident it was the flight suit. But I didn’t matter now. What mattered was his new squadron he was apart of went out there and blew up some Sith.

As he hopped into his X-Wing he heard a curious beep behind him. Turning around he saw a red and white Astromech sitting in the droid slot.

“Well hello there friend! What’s your name?

After a few beeps in reply came from the Astromech, he spoke back.

“R0-WD? You telling me you don’t have a nickname? Well, let me come up with one real quick...how does Rowdy sound?”

Excited beeps and chirps must’ve meant the droid liked it. With a happy bid he turned back to the control panel, starting the ship up.

The quad engines all fired up In unison, echoing slightly throughout the cockpit. The sound never got old. Opening up his comms he let them know he was all set.


“Phantom Squadron, this is Len er...Phantom Four and Rowdy the Astromech ready to rock and roll.”

This was going to be a good day.

 


// Ziost’s Surface // New Adasta // Central District Interior; Starport Outskirts //
// 7th Mechanized Regiment // Second Company - Trooper Milo Harnan //
Shattered Faith; Fallen Preachers.

It began slowly at first. There was the odd civilian who threw off their coverings and addressed their fellow kinsmen. They preached of the coming salvation that they should look to the skies for the blessings of their once and future masters. The Sith Empire was coming, and they should rejoice! But, within the Central District, where most of the disaffected population of New Adasta resided - there was no rejoicing. Thousands of eyes glared down upon these would-be preachers with disgust. While it was true that if the Alliance hadn’t come to liberate Ziost from the Sith Empire, the tragedies that followed would’ve never transpired.

However, the Alliance wasn’t the one’s to pull the trigger that began the orbital bombardment, nor were they the ones to unleash the Graug upon the population. The people of Ziost were loyal to the distant throne-world of Dromund Kaas, but after the hellfire rained from the heavens, obliterating entire households in the blink of an eye, and the abominations that were supposed to protect them - slaughtered them like livestock? Even the most devout worshippers of the Sith would begin to question their faith. And, as these would-be preachers continued to spread their message - they were met with grief-stricken opposition.

What did these preachers expect? The Sith Empire bombed their own people, going back on one of their Imperialist mandate’s founding principles. They stated that they would do everything they could to protect their own citizens but cared naught for those outside their borders. It seemed that they abandoned that principle when their backs were against the wall, and defeat loomed upon the horizon. How convenient for them. But to those that were deeply affected, much like the people of New Adasta? Those inflicted scars would run deep. The Empire may not have abandoned them, that much was true - but they cared little for their survival.

If that was true, why did they order the City’s destruction through the combined efforts of the orbital guns and the Graug?

As those preachers continued to attempt to incite an outright uprising, seeking to pave the way for their Sith-Imperial masters - they gained a following. Sadly, it wasn’t the following they expected or hoped for. Instead, it was a gaggle of disenfranchised citizens that lost their families or bore witness to the slaughter. Their red-rimmed eyes were fixated on these political instigators; palpable hatred oozed from their every pore. The Alliance sought to safeguard them from the horrors transpiring outside of the Central District, which meant that their vengeance was denied. Yet, these preachers were well within their reach.

Without hesitation, the gathered mob surged forward - shrieking with unearthly rage - and dragged these Sith-Imperial loyalists to the ground. With their fists and feet, they brutally savaged the preachers, beating them within an inch of their collective lives. Some even took it a step further and took hold of some nearby debris and began painting the street a vibrant shade of red. It wasn’t a pretty sight to bear witness to, but in a way - Milo supposed it was cathartic. They couldn’t take their rage out on the Sith Empire, as their armies would’ve likely trampled them flat, then later proclaim their efforts were meant to save them from the Devils of the Core Worlds. So, they had to go after something else.

When the crowds were slowly gathering, several Squads of the 7th’s Second Company were mustered in an attempt to keep the peace. They initially feared that these people were crawling back to the Sith Empire’s graces - despite everything they endured. Thus, those Marines were ready to act when the first signs of hostility were displayed. Instead, those Alliance Soldiers watched on with vague disbelief as the Citizens of New Adasta killed these would-be Instigators with their own bare hands. Or with whatever items they could get their hands on. They didn’t bother intervening, as there would’ve been no point. These people were butchered by the Sith Empire, and their distant Imperial masters wanted them to spit in the faces of those going out of their way to help New Adasta recover?

Madness. Absolute Insanity.

Trooper Harnan couldn’t even fathom the cognitive dissonance that went through their minds to justify such actions. But, the man supposed that when an Empire got desperate, they began to grasp whatever straws they could in the hopings of drawing victory. It was only a matter of time before news of the Massacre of New Adasta began to spread across the Empire entire. As their propaganda machines couldn’t hide the widespread slaughter of so many of their own people. Would the foundations of their Empire rot ever-further? Would this blasted Campaign end with the dissolution of the Sith-Imperial throne? There were far too many questions that begged for answers that only the future held, and through the speculative pursuit, Milo would’ve been lost in his own thoughts for years to come.

He had better things to do than question the ever-changing state of the future, like ushering the blood-caked mob away from the twitching corpses of these failed instigators. Shaking his head and falling in step with his Sergeant, Milo’s squad began directing the disenfranchised people back towards the relative safety of the Starport.

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// Ziost’s Surface // New Adasta // People’s Tower - Strategy Centre //
// 7th Mechanized Regiment // Command - Major Tycho Dune //

Hope, Rekindled.

The Sith Empire seemingly manifested from no-where. Which wasn’t entirely unexpected, as the Sith had done so many times before. Nor was their sudden arrival unprepared for either. The City may lay in ruins, but that didn’t mean it was wholly defenceless. When the first of the Sith Dropships arrived, they drove towards the Central District’s outskirts, seeking to claim a foothold within New Adasta. Sadly, they wouldn’t make it to their destination. They were intercepted by surface emplacements as soon as they broke through the partially-swirling cloud cover. Their shields flared under the plasmatic cannonade, only to burst as their capacitors overloaded and collapsed. It was only moments after the defensive barriers fell that the transports turned into blossoms of fiery shrapnel.

Those Dropships might’ve been the first that the Sith Empire brought to bear, but they were far - far from the last. As the smouldering ashes of their comrades scattered themselves over the ruined City, dozens more punched through the cascading debris. This time, however, they veered away from the ruined surface of New Adasta. It seemed that their strategy shifted in the face of opposition, and they did what they could to adapt. Which was expected, as there were two potential paths for the Sith to have taken. They could’ve thrown everything they had at the Central District and reaped a bloody toll amongst their own numbers - making it near impossible to take and hold the City.

But, if they battered the defences from the outskirts as they pushed inwards? Well, that’d make their hold on New Adasta more tenable. Not only would they have the support of the local populace, a small portion of what was left, but they’d also have less inflicted casualties. A benefit due to the lack of Sith transports being blown out of the sky. Plus, with the Outriders and the smaller number of Marines on the outskirts of the City - it wouldn’t be hard to punch through the defences and reach the inner Districts. Yet, that was precisely what the Alliance hoped for. They spent weeks preparing for the Sith Empire’s counter-attack. Everything was so far was proceeding per the Major’s design.

Tycho watched as countless Sith-Imperial transponders blinked to life, bathing a significant portion of the holo-table in a proverbial sea of red. There were walkers, tanks, and artillery pieces, coupled with companies of Legionnaires. His forces were outnumbered, but that didn’t mean they were outfought. A majority of the City was theirs, and they reshaped the ruins to suit their needs - thus, the advantage of terrain was firmly in the Alliance’s hands. But that advantage wouldn’t last for long. All of their carefully laid preparations would count for nothing when the crumbling Empire’s resources were seemingly infinite. The 7th Regiment couldn’t win the war of attrition, let alone the Alliance thereafter.

However, the very least they could do was made them bleed for every inch that was taken.

Yet, it seemed that they wouldn’t fight alone. A transmission was sent out into the darkness some time ago and was answered in kind. The New Imperial Order had come, alongside a portion of the Silver Jedi. He smiled then. A small measure of hope was rekindled within his breast, followed by an ironic realization. This was what the Sith must’ve felt during the Battle of Dantooine, as the Galaxy converged to fight for what they respectively believed was right. With a subtle shake of his head, the Major turned his gaze towards his nearby Adjutant. They busied themselves with updating the holo-table with all of the data they collated from the various units deployed in the field.

“Sir,” the Adjutant stated as they took notice of their Commander’s sole eye gazing in their direction. “The New Imperial reinforcements are landing outside the City, not far away from the Sith currently marched towards the defensive curtain. We’re doing our best to establish comms with their command echelons to better co-ordinate our defence. But, uh, it’ll be a few moments before we can make that happen. These Sith Imperial transmitters are shot, and our Combat Engineers haven’t been able to get around to fixing them. Once your Juggernaut gets back to base, we’ll patch them through.”

Tycho nodded. “Very well, the Seventh knows what to do while we’re experiencing long-range comms issues. With the New Imperials landing behind the enemy forces - they’ll draw the Sith into the City and trap them between our detachments.” The man laughed then. “I’m sure the General and his Wolfpack would relish running down pinned Sith troopers, with the New Imperials driving the Sith into his fangs.”

“Sir, there’s also something else that needs your attention. The Second Company’s Captain has issued a report detailing some… disturbing events in the Central District. Seems the Sith Empire had some sleeper agents in the population. They must’ve slipped in a transmission while we were evacuating their people from the shelters, likely detailing when the attack would begin.”

The Major rolled his eye then. “That’s unsurprising. Have they armed the civilians and started an uprising yet?”

There was a short, almost menacing pause before the Adjutant dropped their gaze back towards the holo-table. “That’s the disturbing thing. Sir, the people, killed them.”

Tycho stared in disbelief. “I’m sorry, they killed them?”

“Yes, Sir, we managed to pull Trooper Harnan’s vid-feed and watched these so-called preachers get savaged by their neighbours. It was disturbing… to say the least.”

“Well,” Tycho said with a small sigh of relief. “At least that means the people we’ve pulled into the Central District aren’t our enemies. Naturally, we can’t speak to those that haven’t been recovered yet, as the preacher’s likely got to them. Do what you can to inform the Outriders of this development. I don’t want our soldiers ambushed by unmarked civilian militia in an active warzone.”

“We’ll do what we can, Sir.”

It was then that something began building upon the horizon. Barely seen through the polarized viewport, the ashen tundra was soon dominated by rolling storm - seemingly conjured from nothing. Tycho sighed, then. Another Ritual? Seriously? Did these Sith not punish the people of Ziost enough with their bombardment and the Graug? Were they so assured that their defeat was nigh they had to pull out the oldest and dirtiest tricks in the book to ensure victory? His fingers tightened into a fist and slammed down on the holo-table. This raging storm changed things. They could strip a few power sources from a few artillery pieces and repower the Twoer’s shield generator, but that’d do little to aid the people trapped inside.

Plus, with the Silver Jedi having arrived to render aid - that shield would make their journey to the surface all the more difficult.

While it wasn’t moving fast, the storm was building speed. There was still some time for them to prepare, even though it was starting to dwindle with every passing moment. All was not lost, not when there were Jedi nearby - and when the spark of hope was rekindled by the arrival of reinforcements.

“Get that damned transmitter back up and running,” Tycho growled. “We’ve got very little time to get these people out of the Starport before that Storm gets here.”

 
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Y O U N G _ C O N Q U E R O R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
LEGATE ACTUAL
KNIGHT OF THE EMPIRE
Armour | Lightsaber
Open For Interaction
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"Kainan. You and I will make way for the bridge."

A curt nod was given in response.

Stepping forwards into Alliance One, Kainan turned away from the brightly flashing lights of Alliance One to look behind him. The sanctity of the connected shuttle and his comrades stood behind him, and before them, the Lord Executor. A being whose presence beyond the physical seemed to encompass the entirety of the corridor. He clenched tightly on the silver hilt of the Imperial, making way for the front of the ship where it was suspected that the likes of Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe and the other Alliance officials remained.

Escape pods had obviously been launched. As they progressed through the ship, he could see the scarlet lights on the consoles beside the blast doors, noting them as deployed.

From an intersection, Sith-Imperial marines emerged, and blaster fire hailed upon the duo.

Inhuman reaction brought the resplendent blade to bare and ignited in the instant his danger sense rose. The scent of ozone reached his nose with each bolt that drew near to him before being knocked aside. In moments, their first obstacle was cleared, and their journey to the position of the Vice Chancellor continued.

"I sense the presence of a Sith Lord," Kainan uttered later. Closer to their objective. "We should move to intercept." The Youthful Knight suggested, already diverging and turning down the nearest side corridor. Through the Force, he looked, beyond what his physical gaze allowed him to see. Beyond doors, walls, across the ship his mind searched until he saw the path. Blinking once, then twice, he abandoned the Force Sight and shot a glance to Rurik.

His anticipation rose. The oncoming fight with the Crimson Shadow continued to give him purpose. To give them, purpose. For what was the purpose of a weapon, if it didn't see use?

"There doesn't exist a Sith that can withstand the both of us."


Allies | NIO | NJO | Nearby | Rurik Fel Rurik Fel | Areyon Areyon | Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe
Enemies | TSE | Arctus Silmar Arctus Silmar

 
Armed Intelligent Machine
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Objective: Kill the Sith
Allies: DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran | Cotan Sar'andor Cotan Sar'andor | Captain Raith Captain Raith
Enemies: T.S.E.

———

1600 meters and closing.

A.I.M calculated the estimated time of arrival for the group would be five minutes and twenty-seven seconds. That was with an extra thirty seconds calculated in for any Sith forces interfering.

Over the horizon, the group could see the battle taking place. A.I.M had already alerted alerted Barran that the group would be arriving soon, and should he noted of their arrival.

From the city, the Imperial and Alliance forces would see eleven AT-AT walkers slowly appearing over the horizon, the sun making them look like midnight-black beasts.

//:A.I.M. units, prepare you weapons for fire. We will enter into attack range here in nineteen seconds, and we shall await the General’s orders:\\

With various replies, the group of intelligent walkers continued forward. They were an unstoppable force that the Sith would soon
very much get to know.

A.I.M. units were the next step in warfare, and they would decimate the Sith and their empire. It was all a matter of time for them to become victorious.
 


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L O R D P R O T E C T O R
Major General Willan Tal

1st Galidraani armoured infantry division

'Fighting first' 1st brigade
Task Force Imperator 'Lionheart force.'

ZIOST
Allies: Arcturus Tal Arcturus Tal Enedina Tal Enedina Tal DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran Konrad Bolter Konrad Bolter Adhira Chandra Adhira Chandra Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe Rurik Fel Rurik Fel Tiberius Cotan Sar'andor Cotan Sar'andor


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"What's the situation on the field, lieutenant?"

"Sir, it seems that the Sith forces have levied additional reinforcements across the frontlines in addition to bolstering current standing armoured formations."

So it seemed that they did indeed have a bit of spirit left in them; one had to admire it after the weak wristed resistance they gave on Helgard that relegated his forces to clean up operations across the planets frozen wastes. The once-fabled Sith legions reduced to nought but a gang of tired conscripts and poorly armed teenagers. It beggared belief, but when half of the Emperors military brightest turned coat and the others were gradually wiped out in the Braxant run's meatgrinder campaign. It didn't surprise Willan at all. Militaries built on past laurels and nepotism often turned out to be quite a paper tiger when truly tested. Both the alliance and Imperials had taken the sons of Zambrano to heel on countless worlds and systems. Truly one could say it personified the Sith mantra of the strong eat the weak, and in the Siths case, it was a simple outcome of that harsh philosophy.

"Get me a line through to Brigadier General Barran and make quick on patching a line to Captain Tals unit."

Tal turned from studying the map and all it's markers detailing troop movements that were updated by the hour with every bit of info fed through from the developing battlefield. Occasionally, the room's cold studious quietness was interrupted by a loud alarm and logistics staff rushing around to intercept radio comms and updates. He had to admit he was proud of Enedina, but a deep and unrelenting side of him feared for his daughters every waking moment in the military, but Tal knew he couldn't stop a scion of house Tal from pursuing the families old tradition of the military. So he relented in the end and let her join the armed forces; he just prayed to god it wouldn't hurt him nor the family in the end.


<<"Lionheart one to Brigadier General Barran, I want a sitrep and if possible coordinates on enemy positions, will wire through artillery support and further reinforcements if needed over.">>


Willan knew he could rely on the tough old goat, Barran was made of sterner stuff than many, and the mad man relished combat just as much as a man younger than him might do. He just hoped the man would pull through and claim the day on the honour of their homeland and the Imperial order. One had all the utmost confidence in his subordinate and his own troops, they hadn't failed Tal nor Galidraan yet.










 

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