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

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

POST IV
THE_CLAYMORE

1ST EXILED-GALIDRAANI DIVISION
2ND GALIDRAANI ARMOURED-VOLUNTEER BRIGADE,"BLUE-HEART BRIGADE"

OBJECTIVE 3: Remnants of Dust

Taskforce LIONHEART: Willan Tal Konrad Bolter Enedina Tal

ALLIES (NIO/GA): Irveric Tavlar Noel Strasza Tulan Kor Fisk Kamer DT-0800
Cotan Sar'andor Captain Raith Suri Vullen Kal Ostan Zirell Marxon Master Zoryu

ENEMIES (TSE/CIS): Irina Volkov Valen Taeli Raaf The Amalgam Laertia Io
Maple Harte

CALLSIGN: BLUE-HEART ALPHA

Custom Blaster-Pistol | Basket-Hilted Vibrosword Claymore

A BARRAN WASTELAND - The Grand-Marshall II

Having overheard,'Good pick...', muttered as he was still pointing out the map-projections that revealed his plans to Cotan, Erskine afforded himself an appreciative nod in Cotan's direction whilst still in the full flow of his explanation. And by the time the hipflask had been pocketed, and when his quick rundown had been concluded soon after, the Grand-Marshall's bared sword-scabbard sitting at the higher-notch on his belt also revealed the rest of the lightsabre's design when he sat down to gaze on the holographics himself; the lightsabre's grip was basket-hilted, just like the Vibrosword Claymore that Lord Brennan Barran had left on Archais for his Lord-Nephew to find.

As Sar'andor leaned back on the comm-link unit behind him to get a better view for the entire field-of-battle, his hands set to work, enhancing in on their current 2km-squared vicinity and studying the wide, incomplete crescent of Gowrie's first-wave front-lines. Leaving the projection alone after leaving it set to show all the friendly/opposing blips in play, Cotan folded his arms and pondered on it for a moment before turning his gaze back to Erskine, appreciatively muttering,'Devious', with a nod as his eyes returned to the holographics lighting his eyes with all the secrets his new acquaintances daren't have revealed until the time was right. A moment later, Cotan snapped out of his immersive state of flow to make eye-contact with Erskine again as he continued,'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.', immediately switching from his endearingly-sociable exterior, then almost immediately to raw sincerity halfway through the process of expressing his views on the matter.

This realistic view on the cost of war, and just as intensely, the contrasting wish to avert it as much as humanly possible had taken the Brigadier-General by surprise; the knowing look the Grand Marshall had given him was rife with the losses he was carrying in his heart of hearts, completely lacking in the naivety of youthful self-assuredness, throwing the Woad-born for a loop he was in no real condition to be ready for. To start with, it had been a while since Erskine heard such talk from his already-extensive pool of known colleagues and allied-associates, as they all knew that Barran was still grieving the death of his Battalion 2-IC; yet everyone around him had been avoiding such talk since Bastion, both to work at their best and focus on the tasks in front of them, and to avoid the still-touchy subject of the ICBM that atomized Lord Erskine's best promotion-prospects at the time.
Not here Cotan. You'll be welcome to mention the matter again when all is said an' done the-day, though I'll no-doubt recall recent-events ruefully.

Interrupting their mutual affirmation of contrasting resolve and empathy, Sar'andor and Barran were both interrupted by the sound of new opposing blips appearing on the map-projections, then the collective rumbling of enemy-ships flying overhead towards the enemy armoured-division. It didn't take a genius to surmise what was going on, and Erskine's prediction in his looped-message to all GA units in the area was becoming true; it looked like it would turn out to be,"A Riot of Lightsabres", after all, and Cotan was not at all impressed by the Sith-Imperials' lack of unpredictability in their actions. Erskine, however, remained unfazed by the latest developments as Cotan switched his gaze back-and-forth between the Blue-Heart commander and the latest blip-additions, watching along with Sar'andor as their contents drove out to bolster the Sith-Imperials' farthest rear-flank in the east. Standing up, the Grand Marshall looked once more through the viewports as he vented with peak disdain towards his force-sensitive opponents,'Bloody hell. Really? It's like they have this sixth sense that says I'm here specifically.'

Sar'andor's gaze then found focus when his right periphery noticed the comm-link unit behind the stool he'd just stood away from, but the Grand Marshall was still trying to be polite enough to cast a quick sidelong glance back at the Lord-Commander again to say,'Care if I take your comms for a moment? Maybe it'll help make sure they listen to your relay.', already moving for a comm-device that required no permission from the Brigadier-General to use. Erskine's mind had turned back to the blips on his top-down view of the front-line from the ACV's newly-attained place among the weakened center, and he had noticed that those Sith-Imperials who were baiting him forward had finally committed beyond the point of no-return, and were pushing towards their position with the heaviest-hitting elements of their division's predominantly-mechanised roster.
Well ah'm no stoppin' ye.... But ah will be needin' t'use that soon, though.

'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.'

Turning back to the Brigadier-General, the Grand Marshall was looking at the grips to both his melee-weapons, gazing on hilt of the secondary sword, patiently waiting behind the basket-hilted grip for his lightsabre for (what the Blue-Heart Galidraani assumed was-) last-ditch offensive options in combat. Sar'andor had seemingly taken his time to register Barran's passing appreciation for the sword that accompanied the sabre, but made a point of mentioning it to conclude with insight as to what it was that Cotan's preferred mode of warfare was. 'Not a vibrosword, A bit more old school, a lot more esoteric.', the Grand Marshall muttered politely as he drew the blade a few inches from it's ornate scabbard, revealing a celestial blue glow emanating from the blade before sheathing it again and turning back to address the Brigadier-General with a mannered, though once-again light-hearted demeanour.

'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.'

The surprises were rolling out quick and fast with the Grand-Marshall, but the latest brought a wheezing fit of laughter that took time to quell with a struggling effort to keep a straight face in replying, nodding before he exclaimed,'Aye, of course I'm related to Ollis! He's my Lord-Cousin after all, and I his. He's the wildest Barran of my generation, and by a country mile too; just like his father, Lord Brennan.'. If Sar'andor ever had a moment of absolute assured-safety among the Blue-Hearts, this would probably have been the main catalyst. To meet and fight alongside one Laird of the Woads kept them from distrusting him, but meeting and fighting alongside two Lairds of the Woads assured absolute trust-and-reverence with the working-class soldiers of Galidraan 3; more-specifically meaning non-coms and Commoner-Captains alike would have time for the likes of Cotan, especially when news of his befriending two Blue-Heart lords of the same clan had spread to the ranks.

'It's a grand idea, sir.', Barran continued, pausing to offer hand-gestures that invited Sar'andor to sit by the map-holographics once more, though such was accepted with a look of begrudging-curiosity. As Cotan raised a querying eyebrow in anticipation, Erskine smirked for a moment before concluding his reply, turning his gaze towards the enhanced view of the advancing enemy-contingent on the top-down view as he pitched his idea,'An' I'll be the first to open the hatch for you on every single occasion, but only if it's done for the first time - from - here. That's less than 800 metres behind our current frontline position, an' as we're speaking, their best ordnance is currently hurtling towards us at top-speed. So, if you have time to increase your life-expectancy, an' drink s'more, ah'd like to knock your enemies down a peg or two. Choose the whiskey, choose the best time imaginable to jump out that side door o'er there.'

<"This is Scout Leader,
Watchmen are en-route to cripple their armor from the northeast.
Don't splatter us on our way there, over.">

The latest interruption on the comm-link was one that would need to be answered, Lord Erskine had recognised the callsign as a subordinate of the cyborg-woman he'd fought alongside just a short few days before. Noel's forces would be greatly needed in the impending fight, so Erskine took a brief second to walk by his ACV's esteemed guest and say,'Just a moment, it appears I have some coordinating to get done... We can pick this discussion up when I'm done rabbiting-on wi the comm-link, aw'right?', before picking up the receiver with a quick snatch from it's port. Inhaling a deep breath of air, and readying himself to begin his most-daring act as a field-commander by that point, Barran stared through the right-viewport and beyond as he drawled,'Barran to Scout Leader! Glad to have you with us, but you're gonna need to run fast if you want the best action. Push straight west, sprint south, then west again as according to the bearings we're sending you now. You'll be right behind the same people we're fighting now. Good luck! Blue-Heart Alpha out!'

Switching channels to that of his Lord-Captain, Erskine turned to face the mass of blips following the frontline's center-segment as they beat a fighting retreat, muttering to Cotan,'I know how you feel about incurring unnecessary losses in war, mate. But trust this, one signal could save untold numbers if I time it correctly.', as he anxiously watched their approach to the marked zone to counterattack from. There was a red circle-clip at the half-way point, and before long it became the subject of his fixation, glowing a pulsating orange as Erskine clicked a hold on the receiver and said,'Barran to Guardian One! Engage the slow-retreat in the center! Keep up with the ACV and keep time with the riflemen!'

<"Rhone to Blue-Heart Alpha! Copy that, we've got QM's ready to blow the first batch of bait-charges. Just enough resistance for the Sith-Imperials to warrant advancing farther, Milord. We all trust the plan, right down to the last marksman. Guardian One out!">

A BARRAN WASTELAND - A Message for the Imperator

'Right, is the file compressed an' ready, Private Grant? Good.... Stand by-'

Rolling backward, in an aggressive fighting-retreat alongside the riflemen, APC's, Guardsmen and the re-established QM-Sharpshooter company, the Lord-Major's bait had well and truly been bitten, but Erskine hadn't the time to look through the front view-ports as the ACV engaged their fire-and-maneuver's lead in full-reverse; ACV One was backing-off ahead of the others and still applying LMG-pressure to cover against the charging enemy stormtroopers, spotted out in front of the armoured division's central push screening the Sith-Imperials' center-pushing advance. All in the faux-weakened center who were busy focusing on the unseen-threats (and hostile-contact of a more-tangible nature) were leaving the rest of the thinking to the one who was required the most-intensely to do so, and Barran was proving to be quite the active communicator in the retreat.

'Barran to Enigma Actual! Excuse my improper use of the comm-links; I'm keeping the channels private as I go, but I won't be comm-link coordinating in this op with any such aims of ingratiation or endearment, my only function here today is to provide you with the only help I have it in my power to provide.' Lord Erskine began, pausing to click his fingers at the comm-link assistant behind him before turning back to resume his previous attention-standing position. As soon as his eyes made contact with the recording-light once more, the Brigadier-General cleared his throat before exclaiming over the hostilities outside,'By now - excuse the noise, Engima-Actual! Just a momen- alright, by now you'll have received a compressed file containing every possible visual-representation of the western approach to New Adasta. All my map-holographics, and all the known enemy-positions found by my surveillance-droids, can be found in there.'

Erskine stopped a moment, considering the best conclusion to put forth with the duellist's latest circumstances in mind; their approach to the orange-blip marker between the first and second waves of Blue-Heart assault noted to still be a little distance away, so the Brigadier-Commander was glad to be using his time wisely, even though he was acting far beyond his paygrade. Deciding for the honest approach expected of his ilk, Barran decided to comment on the latest flashing blips with a curt politeness in mentioning,'The orange and white circles are markers for two different stages of a maneuver I'm currently laying dangerous groundwork towards, and by the time I reach the white circle, the overreaching center of the Sith-Imperial's frontlines will be in a nasty little bind indeed. The enemy center's commander, the one we just so happen to be baiting - is a fledgling-Sith warrior, out for the blood of one Grand-Marshall Cotan Sar'andor as it happens.... Your approach will be covered as far as the white blip, and we would be honoured if you joined us in the crucible. Blue-Heart Alpha out!'

<"Rhone to Blue-Heart Alpha! We are crossing the orange-blip threshold! Maintaining fighting-retreat for now, but we really need to pick up the pace! Guardian One out!">
Good comm-skills, Rhone. But you really need to wait a moment for this.... It is going to be glorious, my young friend.

'Barran to Blue-Heart Bravo! It's time, Gowrie! Implement movement-order: ANTIQUITY!!! TURN THEIR BACKS TO THE EAST AN' FOLD THE FLANKS ON OUR WESTERN AXIS!!!! GO - GO - GO!!!'​

 

[Tulan Kor]

WAR IS HELL, I AM IT'S DEVIL


​

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER STORMTROOPER CORPS
SPECIAL OPERATIONS BRANCH
DEMON COMPANY
ALLIES: NIO l GA l Irveric Tavlar l Willan Tal l Tiberius l Kal Ostan l Captain Raith l Cotan Sar'andor l DECEASED Erskine Barran l Tiberius
Enemies: TSE l Irina Volkov l Valen l Sith Dominance
Perspective: Private Lears

The fact that the Imperator himself embraced Commander Kor was not a small feat. Much less, the respect given by the Commander back to him. It was a solidification of our actions, our beliefs, our goals, and our cause. Our cause was nothing but total war.

And war- war came to us.

It was loud. Louder than any of my training, the simulations could emulate. The sweat on my brow underneath my helmet was new, my shaking hands never ceasing it seemed. The blaster bolts coming at us kicked up the carbon-scored Earth, shattering my perceptions that this would be anything like I imagined. But through the noise, came the steady hand of Tulan. He grabbed the back of my vest, pulling my face close to his.

"Get some return fire on those soldiers! Hit their Officers and the NCOs first!"

His staunch dedication to duty, and sheer calmness in the face of it all was awe-inspiring to someone like me. He was cold, calculating and collected. There didn't seem to be a thing bothering him. Most Commanders used their radios to broadcast their demands, what they wanted to accomplish. Tulan did it with his voice, his hands, his presence. He carried the shotgun low, moving between our positions as the Sith landed all around us.

Tulan stood up at the front, loading a fresh shell in his shotgun.

And then he said something that simultaneously struck fear into the enemy that could hear it- and anticipation, bloodlust, and rage in all of us. The things that made men do great and terrible things for their countries, their Empires. He was leading us into hell.

Suddenly- the name Demon Company clicked.


--

Tulan went between the lines, diligently making sure his men were up to the task, directing the rookies where they needed to go, where they should be aiming at. The Sith were playing a fool's game- the staging area, their LZ for dropships in the middle of the battlefield was practically an enfilade of fire waiting to take them. One of his Sergeants pointed out the fact that they were surrounded. The platoon was being enveloped, but not out-done yet.

Tulan needed to break the gap in the enemy's line, seize a foothold, and prevent the enemy from gaining too much ground. A platoon, at the right place, in the right position, could decimate an enemy unit. Tulan's grip tightened on his shotgun, looking around in circles while his men fended off the enemy attackers, firing shot after shot from their RS16 rifles. The powerful rifles cut through the untrained, unproven Legionnaires like nobody's business-

Except, in reality, war was Tulan's business.

The shotgun wasn't heavy enough- it was lacking the bayonet to balance it out.

Tulan turned and eyed an opening through the city streets. Sparsely defended, with the Legionnaires and Troopers having been thinned out by the New Imperial Forces.

He pursed his lips, reached up to his webbing, and pointed his weapon upwards, attaching the bayonet to the end of his shotgun. To win the fight- they'd have to give hope, Demon Company would have to push through the enemy's posture, and break their will to fight.

It was a singular command. On the battlefield, Demon Company only heeded the words of Satan himself, the great betrayer.

"Demon Company- fix bayonets!"

The soft clicks of the soldiers of Demon Company fixing bayonets to their rifles rang out, and the lull in fighting became silence.

A singular transmission was sent out to Tavlar from Tulan's personal channel.

"Thy will be done. We'll give you an opening."

And with that, Tulan was the first to dash between cover, screaming a horrible war cry.

His men followed.

And soon, the war cry of angry, vengeful men overtook the bombs, the rockets, the rifles, the screams. Like a mountain cascading, they leapt from cover to cover, drawing closer to the Sith's positions.

Tulan lead the charge, a true leader- a natural born soldier, leading from the front, charging to the enemy.

 

[Zark San Tekka]

They would follow any man who would turn the wheels; now the wheels are spinning out of control
What would they do if we held them still?
If you destroy the working parts, you get a broken machine
A beacon of light from a burning screen

​

Ziost was on fire.

Deep in the heart of a Galactic Alliance controlled People's Tower Master San Tekka could feel New Adasta choke and burn. Taking the city had been a costly affair. His ancient Jedi armor bore those scars while he still bore the scars from Sorzus Academy. Trust in the Force saw him through. Even while the beleaguered command presence all around him slowly descended into chaos he relied on that unbreakable faith to center his calm.

Particle fire charged the atmosphere causing the voice of Master Zoryu to crackle with static while the old man relayed his status overseeing the contested city's crumbling outer perimeter.

"I sense a disturbance in the Force. There is something wrong among the population... I have been unable to pinpoint it, but I will continue searching. I advise you do the same."

"We're getting unusual reports of Sith irregulars in the Central District," Zark replied, "I sense a possible connection. Cotan Sar'andor was out on patrol in that sector. Asmundr and I will attempt to make contact."

Asmundr Varobalder might have been the most gifted farseer he'd ever met. They shared a natural connection with the Force. While Asmundr had dedicated a lifetime to perfecting his sight beyond sight San Tekka manipulated the flow of battle around him. Shared experiences on Korriban tempered an unusual kind of friendship. Despite knowing one another only a short time he could see the Force move darkly across the oracle's stern features.

"What is it?" he asked shortly before Zoryu's com signal interrupted.

"Zark, things just became more complicated."

Now he sensed it too. A coming doom. Master San Tekka heard the Force cry out in disharmony. It did not shake his resolve. He was not a fool. He knew this could very well mean New Adasta's complete annihilation. Still he trusted that he was here for a reason. He trusted the Jedi Code and its principles. He trusted in the Force. They would see another dawn on free Ziost.

"I have to take care of something beyond the city, it should not take long."

"Be careful, Master Zoryu. May the Force be with you."

 

[Darth Ahriman]

Inventory: Apparel | Lightsaber.
Support: Sigma-Five Squadron, Specialized Infantry Unit.
Allies: Sith Dominance & Taeli Raaf
Opposition: Cotan Sar'andor | DECEASED Erskine Barran | Captain Raith | Irveric Tavlar | Tulan Kor | Maynard Treicolt | Willan Tal | Zirell Marxon | Kal Ostan | Tiberius | A.I.M | Zark San Tekka

"Major Armtre of the 67th Legion.
We're here to assist. Who's in charge here?".
​

Valen had never held any sense of authority over anyone else, yet within the chaos of the frontlines, it seemed that there was no one else he could call on of a higher rank than he was. As part of the Sith Order, his Master Zeptepi Zambrano would have held rank over Military Personnel, yet she was not here.

"You are now, Major!" He called atop the sounds of heavy blaster fire as the AT-AE's opened up upon the hostile armada, targeting the armored vehicles as Valen had called for, seeking to draw immobilize them and draw out the Force User Cotan Sar'andor .

He hadn't been fighting with the mind to command an army, he had been pursuing his own orders, yet here and now he had the opportunity to make amends and relinquish the majority of responsibility over to Major Armtre (Sith Dominance).

"Assume command of our troops, Sigma-Five is with me" he reiterated, turning back to look skyward and noting the coming storm being summoned through the Lady Taeli Raaf's dark magic. "There's a storm coming. Keep them busy long enough till it's overhead. Master Raaf will take care of the rest" Valen concluded, an assumption made out of the knowledge that Taeli Raaf was among the more powerful of Sith within their Order.

Moving to step ahead of Sigma-Five, Valen looked upon the Enemy from behind the cover of debris. Slugs and Blaster Bolts zipped passed, while the earth and cover around them was hounded by stray shots forcing the Acolyte to squint as dirt, stone and dust was kicked up by their suppressing fire.

Despite being held down within New Adasta for weeks without reinforcements, their numbers seemed to grow and their fortitude ceased to show any sign of battle fatigue the likes Valen had expected. However, the low rumbling of the Repulsortanks sounded their converging on the frontlines, having reached their position and started to open fire upon the ACV's and surrounding infantry, adding to the heavy assault of the AT-AE's.

Using one of the Repulsortanks for cover, Valen followed a short distance behind as the Sith-Imperial Armor continued to push on ahead, unaware of the explosives the enemy forces had laid down prior, in preparation of the battle that had since erupted on the outskirts of New Adasta.

 

[Chasianna]

Location: Temple Engineering Core, Prosperity
Allies: TSE ( Alina Tremiru Darth Strosius Saket Keane )
Enemies: GA ( Kaska Arden Dagon Kaze ) │ NIO

No words were exchanged between the lone Sith and the Jedi. The message had already been conveyed to quite a thorough extent and the Sister was prepared to meet the two approaching Paladins of the Light in combat, in spite of the odds arrayed against her. Even so, the tiny electromancer had done a few things to push them more in her favor. She had chosen the arena, set the stage, and primed herself for success in every way feasible. The Qilin might have set the foundations of her own grave, but her fear of that outcome could be translated into a font of power, as was the way of the Dark Side. Somewhere on Korriban, a mysterious teacher had taught her, or an individual who’s memories she had inherited, to be the master of their (her) own emotions. While the memory was faint, the knowledge was retained.

Upon sensing the arrival of the first Jedi, a dark-haired male, the Sister ignited her lightsaber in her left hand, the coruscating magenta blade flaring to life as the Jedi made his move. A flurry of tiles and panels, strewn about the room from the wreckage produced by the sonic weapons wielded by the members of the security squad, came for her. The Sister answered the threat via the repulsor weapon on her wrist, discharging a burst of gravitic energy towards the incoming tiles in order to cease their momentum. The recoil from the weapon threw her backwards, which given her size, did not require much in the way of force to accomplish. However, the Sister did not let it force her to the ground, instead launching into a spontaneous backflip that carried her two meters back from her original position. The additional separation granted her enough time to sense the charging form of the dark-haired Jedi, the primary threat to the secondary one presented by the explosion of tiles and panels. He was answered with a mental command, one that manifested a conformal energy barrier into life around her form. His lightsaber met the shield, the blade’s intense heat bleeding through to produce a painful searing sensation on her right shoulder, cooking the pale flesh in a manner that elicited a shrill, ear-splitting scream from her lips. Enraged, the Sister immediately answered the strike with her own, committing her blade and body into a diagonal slash from her right to left, aimed for the Jedi’s left knee in an attempt to take the leg off wholesale.

Regardless of the outcome, the Sister's momentum would carry her body three meters behind the male Jedi’s position, placing both of the Jedi in front of her for the time being...

Spoiler: Loadout

• First Sister’s Sith Uniform
  • Undersuit
    • UL-14 “Virtus” Class Underlay
  • Energy Shield(s)
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
  • Alchemical Talisman(s)
    • Jin'Wodasir - Pins of Protection (2)
    • Talisman of Concentration
  • Left Wrist
    • ACS-207 Cryo-Ban Gun
    • Wide-Beam Sonic Stunner
    • Universal Gas Launcher
      • Pink Vapor
  • Right Wrist
    • ACS-208 Wrist Tensor
    • Wide-Beam Sonic Stunner
    • Universal Gas Launcher
      • Vertigon Gas
  • Utility Belt
    • FAE/U-01 "Serenity" Anti-Signal Field System
    • Empyrean Infusion
• Miniaturized Double-Bladed Spinning Lightsaber
• Whimsy Knife
• DL-13 Holdout Blaster

 

[Arcturus Tal]

Return of the Prodigal Sun

Location: The Prodigal Sun (commodore's office)​

Arcturus busied himself with logistical work, trying to keep his mind distracted. He knew that there was a fight on Ziost, and he knew his uncle was in the thick of it. The desire to be there burned deep within the young commodore, but he had been sent to garner more support for the Galidraani movement. His mission was to locate more ships to bolster their fleet for the coming days, and he meant to see it done. His second in command, Quintus Corbray, could sense the restlessness within the young man as he approached.

"Sir, here's the updated report of the fleet," he said as he handed Arcturus a datadisk. Arcturus seemed to ignore the man's words as he spoke.

"Sir?"

Arcturus shook himself from his daze.

"Yes, of course. Thank you, commander."

He set the datadisk aside, continuing to pour over the constant streams of information before him. Quintus continued to linger at his side, ever watchful of the mindset of his leader.

"Your uncle is a capable man, Arcturus, as are those around him. They will see to it that we win the day."

Arcturus slammed his fist onto the desk with a resounding thud.

"I am aware of my uncle's abilities, commander. I just wish we were there to support the effort."

He hadn't been brought into the fold until recently, and had been eager to prove himself worthy of the Tal name. Many years had been spent away from his family, and he had only reconnected with them in the name of liberating their home. After his defeat at the hands of the treacherous Sith, Arcturus had a burning desire to get some payback. He wasn't accustomed to avoiding a fight, and he hated to start now.

But this is where he was needed. This is where he could serve the cause.

"Apologies, commander. I am... not myself right now. I am not used to being on the sideline. It... takes some getting used to."

Quintus placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, instigating a deep breath from Arcturus. Quintus had known the Tals for a long time, and was well aware of the pressure they were all under. Arcturus was just glad to have a family friend in this trying time.

He was about to look at the report when their head of security, Alistair Trask, came barging through the door.

"Sir, sorry for the interruption, but we've received a transmission from Ziost."

Arcturus shot a hurried look over to Alistair.

"And?" The word was spattered with anxious haste.

"Things are not going well, sir. They have deployed every ship they could possibly muster, but the Sith are still outnumbering us. They need reinforcements immediately."

Arcturus snapped out of daze, straightening his back and turning toward Quintus.

"How many ships are ready to make a jump?"

"Sir, most of the ships aren't ready for combat. We are still refitting many of them and making repairs to more than a few. There's no way that we could launch in full force at this time."

"I didn't ask how many weren't ready, commander. How many can make the jump?"

Quintus took a moment to think over the numbers before replying.

"As it stands, we can afford to take two cruisers and two frigates. That's including us."

Arcturus had to go over it in his mind, playing out the different scenarios as best as he could. In the end, none of them looked ideal. In the end, it didn't matter.

"Ready the ships. We jump to Ziost."

"But sir, I must point out that we don't know the Sith's numbers, nor their positioning. We will be going in blind."

"Commander, our people need us. My uncle needs us. And I don't intend to let them down."

Quintus gave a nod before leaving the room. He knew better than to argue with Arcturus, especially when it came to family. Arcturus left his office, making way for the bridge, closely followed by Trask. Upon reaching the bridge, Arcturus turned to him, the fires of battle raging in his eyes. Trask already knew what was to be done. He opened a channel to all ships that were to accompany the Prodigal Sun. Arcturus took a second to gather himself before he addressed the crews.

"All ships, this is Commodore Tal. I know that we weren't expecting a fight today, but we all knew that it was over the horizon. It looks like Ziost must have a fast rotation, because that horizon is already here. Our people are fighting the Sith, and they need our support. To those of you who are from Galidraan, this means this is finally your chance to fight for your people and your home. To those of you who aren't, well, I suppose you'll have to settle for me, as well as killing a few Sith along the way. Whatever reason you have for being here, let it be known that I am proud to embark on this journey with you. Today, we will show the Sith what it means to fear our might. Today, we will show them what a real fleet looks like."

You could hear the cheers of the crews through the speakers as he continued.

"All ships, prepare for jump, and stay on high alert. All hands to battle stations. We jump to Ziost, relieve our comrades, and take the fight to the Sith. For victory! For honor! And remember, Galidraan awaits!"

The crew of the Prodigal Sun snapped into action, preparing them for the jump to hyperspace. Arcturus closed his eyes, taking in this last calm moment before the storm...

 

[Zaavik Perl]

ZIOST ACADEMY
Aradia Pavanos

「I GAVE LABOR TO THE GRIEF」​

"What are you doing here?"​

A good question. One Zaavik wouldn't be able to truthfully answer himself, even if he took the time to consider it. He stared blankly down at Aradia, dour and unblinking. The only sound apart from the distant fighting was the undulating hum of the emerald death he held in his left hand. Neck twisting one side to the other, he looked around with a sharp ejection of air from his nostrils.

Another group of aircraft soared overhead, kicking up dirt and dust with an accompanying gust of wind. Stray hairs that had escaped his tie and the unzipped brim of his jacket over the strike suit all fluttered in tow. Several steps closed to distance, deliberate pace conflicted between assault and concern. Plasmatic blade crackled against dust particles in the air.

"Well, go ahead then. Do it."​

The surging green at his side was now close enough to project its glow across the diminished Sith's face. If ever there was a time to strike, it would be now. A loud, sudden droning of the saber in motion reverberated through the space around them. A sudden fizzle and the sound went silent as the blade disappeared, leaving only empty, dusty air before an unactivated hilt.

A harsh click followed, the apparatus returned to his belt coupling. Before her eyes manifested a cortosine, aluminiferous hand, fingers outstretched in offer. "Get up," he said with sincere, yet somehow still begrudging empathy. The source of the mysterious despair he'd picked up on was now clear. Aradia's sullen display was far too similar to a reflection.

Sith or not, enough exposure had proven to him that she was human, all too human. In some respect, they all were. Few had chosen alternatives to malice when put before him. Time after time she had opted not to kill him, as he'd done for her. Zaavik had lost track of the score by this point. This was either breaking even or giving her a debt. Assuming they hadn't yet gotten past the murderous friction, that was.

"Come on, get up," he repeated.

 

[Viers Connory]

//: 'Partner - in - Crime' //: Marcis Sorr //:
//: Allies //: GA & Friends //:
//: Alliance One //:

​

The moment was beautiful. The way that everything was in sync, the bed rising, the light show pulsating, and the room’s light lowering slightly. Whoever was the owner of this room was quite the showman. Viers nodded with her arms crossing in front of her chest, face showing her appreciation for the theatrics. “Swanky.” The words slipped from her lips quietly. Before she was able to dive a little deeper into the contents of the room, a voice echoed behind her. ​

Goosebumps crawled over her skin as she nearly jumped out of her little spacer boots. Turning to face the source of the voice, a hand clutched her chest as she sighed softly, seeing it was just an echani boy. Her head leaned back slightly as she forced a bit of laughter. “Oh Force, it’s just a pale kid.” From what she gathered, he was close to her age, a bit on the creepy side with how pale he was, but not someone she felt immediately threatened by. Even if he was holding some sort of weapon at her. ​

Whatever metaphorical coin drop happened, Viers realized that the boy with the wrist weapon was not an ally or a Jedi. She stepped back, forgetting the heart-shaped bed was behind her, and fell back onto her bottom. Doing her best to recover, she crossed her legs and leaned back slightly on her hands- sticking her landing with a flick of her hair. ​

“Uh, me? I’m just a small-town girl - living in a lonely galaxy? Who might you be, um stud?” Yes, flirting - the key to getting out of this or at least getting him to put his guard down. If she got the upper hand, she could draw her weapon and strike before he decided to shoot her. ​

On the other side of the room, Decoy, the monkey droid, played with a control panel. His hands moved along the several buttons while his tail moved a sliding gizmo up and down. Almost on queue and with perfect timing, the heart bed started to spin, and the lights lowered slightly more, and a deep baritone voice echoed, talking over a jovial and romantic tune - building up to the chorus of the song. ​

//: B A R R Y _ W H I T E //: ​

“What the kark? Did you do this?!” She looked at the Echani boy, her face turning a deep crimson color, hands hovering for her lightsabers. The bed rotated, and she turned along with it as she waited for his answer - her face only getting redder. "Do. Not. Want. Stop! I was kidding!" ​

She knew what happened with this kind of music. Viers instantly regretted her choice of actions that lead up to this moment. She screamed internally, trying to keep up with the rotation of the bed, not letting the Echani out of her sights.​

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Valeria Ragal / The Red Witch
Bounty Hunter, Intelligence Agent, Spy and Assassin​

Location: Aboard the Alliance One
Objective II.: Preservation of Liberty
Equipment: 2x PV-16 "Sunfury" Pulse Pistol | 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | BCR-X10 Sniper Rifle | Heilagr MK. I ssassin Armour | Kaldrweave Coat | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland
Writing with: Aerarii Tithe

[ You ran away and I'm wondering why… ] ​

It really seemed like there was a Nite, or Blackwatch agent, pretty close to Tithe because Ingrid got very accurate and live data. If she had known first that someone was so close to him, she would have acted earlier. Although it may only be because of the situation. This plan she was made for really fit her late husband better. She wanted to think Adrian would be proud of her for that; it was a pleasant thought, if only because the amulet responded to it all and really pride was the feeling she got.

She’s been hallucinating more and more lately, it hasn’t affected her work yet and no one has noticed it, but it’s worrisome. She didn't care because she saw Adrian; wished it was because of the soulshards, but it wasn’t, she knew it wasn’t. Only her mind was playing with her and her with her broken heart. A broken heart and soul.

Returning to the enemy ship, she left behind a significant portion of the Sith forces and hurried down the corridors toward the bridge. Invisibly, it was all very easy; there was no one to stop her. Although she thus killed some NIO and GA members who would have caused TSE members trouble. The invisible and silent death that one cannot see or hear. To see only a flashing shadow or a blade, but then it was too late and the target could not escape. Or in this case, the flashing estuary fire and the laser beam.

When she was just using a sniper rifle or blaster pistols and not melee weapons. Ingrid was well known by now to be an excellent melee assassin because that was the way many times she could be seen during the war. Fewer know that she was a great sniper as well. So after a shot or a cut/strike, there was a death which bordered the woman's trail. Like the good old days. Along the way, she received no other report than who else was on the ship’s bridge. So she had time to prepare.

She finally arrived at the bridge after long minutes, now all she had to do was find a way to get there.

 

[DT-0800]

Objective: 3
Location: Ziost outside the city
Enemies/marked for termination: The Amalgam
Allies: DECEASED Erskine Barran


The Uneasy quiet only continued, the forces continued to march towards the city. Accessing NIO Feed through the Imperial Database, he could see troop movements, such as The Blue Hearts were closing in on the city. Still no sign of any primary targets. The machine cloathed in flesh still kept moving at a slow, but brisk pace. As from what sources and reports he could read through. Was the likes of the Sith using the people against the Alliance. A tactic that had been used to a ridiculous degree during the NIO's invasion of the once Sith capital known as Bastion. Now as reports would suggest through the feed a similar tactic would once more be tried on the Alliance.

But while destroying much of the fighting forces that the Sith had amassed was one of the objectives of the Dark Trooper. The reason he was here was to terminate any Force Using trouble maker that dared to be a thorn in the side of both the Alliance and the Imperials. The march of footsteps and armoured vehecials kept on going through, as they slowly started to make way into the city. DT-0800 was not at the front, but with much of the force that was following from behind. Much of the chatter and banter of the Galidranni registering through his comms, but like before saw no reason to reply. Like the others he seemed to be a normal Stormtrooper.

The marching only continued, until next to him, and zooming in he located what looked to be a shot heading towards one of the men. His primary directive went against what he did next. But some quick thinking had compelled him to grab the trooper with his free hand. Moving him off the ground as if he was nothing. "Move!" He said as he launched the man out of the way from the coming shot, instead of hitting the trooper, the shot instead came directly athis face piercing through the helmet, and causing his head to jolt back a bit. Recovering momentarily, he slowly took his helmet off, his black shades now missing a lens as he dropped those as well. Looking towards one of the buildings. His vision zoomed in and what came next was a series of information.

Scanning.....

Zooming in on firing residue.....

Target Identified... The Amalgam

Objective: Terminate

A subtle smirk came to his face. The Amalgam had been a thorn in the side of the Alliance and the New Imperial Order for far too long. So much so that she was one of his primary targets.

Scanning probability of hitting target.... 50%
Odds of drawing target out in the open.. 80%

He raised the chainblaster towards the building. While the men seemed shocked or stunned by the sudden sniper. The Dark Trooper only looked to them. “Get moving... now!!”

He said as he started to pull the trigger, and in an instant blaster fire in large volleys started to hit towards the direction of his target. While he was trying to hit her, his intentions were to draw her out of hiding. As he did so. His boots planted into the mud. The soldiers kept marching, and he stood his ground only wishing to flush her out of wherever hole she was hiding in.

 

[Kinoan]

Objective: Duel with some peeps
Allies: Fisk Kamer
Enemies: Laertia Io | Maple Harte
Items: Lightsaber, Lightsaber

———
​

A presence of two people could still be felt, but instead him and Fisk were greeted with two blaster bolts instead. The first bolt screamed out from the smoke and dust, torching part of his hood. Brining up his blade he prepared to block anymore oncoming attack.

"Damn Kino, that was too close for comfort. You good?"

Once the Jedi gave a nod to him, the Mon Calamari turned back towards the smoke. If he would have been a second slower, that blaster bolt would have gone straight through his chest. Thankfully his saber was there to deflect it.

"Hey! Not cool! At least get out here and fight us for real, not hidden behind this smoke."

With the taunting out of the way he now settled in a defensive position. Lightsaber sticking outward, both hands on the hilt. He watched as Fisk did the same. Even if the attacker did appear from the smoke, they would still need to be ready.

"Be ready, I have an idea."

Taking one hand off of his hilt, Fisk slowly raised his hand outward. With a burst of the force he pushed forward the smoke, hopefully sending it into the attacker's faces. Though this would hopefully blind them for a second or two, him and Kino still held their ground. Right now they were just as blind as their enemy. No need to make any dumb decisions.

Well...at least for now anyways. No promises.

​

 

[Darth Ananta]

Objective III
Location: New Adasta, Ziost
Equipment: Lightsaber, Armor
Directly Engaging: Jyoti Nooran

AS ABOVE, SO BELOW​

War wasn't for her.

Perhaps it was the battlefield, the general chaos that made impossible the efforts of the individual to overcome the many, or maybe it was her predilection for the intimacy of murder over the sterility of a fight for survival out of necessity, but in the end Irina had few ways to lend much meaning in the way of a war effort on a personal level. Certainly she was a capable leader in the right circumstances, she'd eviscerated the combined might of five Jedi-aligned navies as a favor to the late Galactic Empire some decade or two back, which Graf had hardly paid her back for, and there were certain abilities of hers that could disrupt the enemy morale, but a soldier she was not.

She hadn't been around to see the steady decline of the Sith Empire, nor the rise of the New Imperial Order and this new Galactic Alliance that followed the fall of its predecessor by a number of years, but she could tell - having arrived on the Sith homeworld of Ziost - that they were far more suited to this sort of atmosphere than she. Not the bloodshed or the apathy towards it, she quite enjoyed causing that, but rather the direction of faceless soldiers and some degree of care for their well-being. Irina? Well, she killed the people who might've called themselves 'friends' and those they cared about. Certainly the only reason she'd remained as relatively unknown as she was now was to avoid Darth Prazutis ' immortal ire for her slaying of his lover, though she'd recently learned that Braith had gone and expired for good this time around after creating some sort of child with the Sith Lord.

So it was without great numbers that the small enigma found herself trudging through the streets as aimlessly as she had during her ill-fated excursion over Mirial, an incident that had weakened her sufficiently for Prazutis to have managed to put her down for as long as she had been. There was a grudge there, perhaps the sole reason she'd deigned to take part in this meaningless war for territory, that she held against Jedi of a more zealous breed - and she'd been assured, rather angrily as she might recall, that they had established a strong foothold among the Galactic Alliance and their New Imperial friends.

For her part she wore her armor and carried a single saber as she always had. Bright amber eyes glanced up towards the sky as she came to a momentary pause, feeling the will of another through the force to stimulate change in the weather - a trick she'd taught another, once, in an era she'd nearly forgotten. The change in her line of sight had, perhaps purely by chance, sent another sensation through her - familiarity. Not with the progenitor of the building storm, but rather with someone or something far removed that was growing ever closer, almost as if by premonition. Her eyes narrowed as she lowered her gaze and continued on, keeping herself to the shadows, hidden from man and machine alike as she let her feet carry her to where fate had decided to rear its ugly head.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

WE RISE
ZIOST ORBIT | ASV UNNAMED
THE SINGULARITY

​

Her hand dragged along the wall, dark sinews collecting and consuming what had been Loske’s form, coating her entirely. Her earliest memories were brief but brilliant flashes that blinded her from seeing the connections to one another. To her, who she was.

It was like smooth rocks, skipping across the murky waters of her mind. Ripples rolled from instances, not connecting with anything and disappearing into horizons she couldn’t see.

Whispers, shouts, commands, pleads, they all bled into one another.

”LOSKE!"
“LOSKE!”

“No,”
“And you’re not taking her with you!”

"Rayiai,"

"Eldaah did warn you that you would change forever if you came into her mind... what she didn't warn you about was that it would ripple to everyone else you love too. Zami dzana iw ri Nimyi."

Somewhere in amidst it all, Loske Treicolt was lost in the crossfire.

Ragged breaths puffed through her teeth. Canines that felt longer, sharper and glistening. Her mouth stretched closer to her ears than ever before in a malicious smile, but it wasn’t her mouth. Hers had been swallowed by something unholy and unclean, hidden beneath corruption. The same corruption that had slain the crew.

Between her exhaustion and confusion, it blossomed. Finding links between their mutual history as experiments and growing so large there was no room for the little Jedi. On this ship, it was a freshly-made monster.

And it was ripe for anarchy.

​

In the command centre, one of the personnel never took their eyes off the security screens that showed the entirety of the ship. The black silhouette that had ravaged their comrades staggered through the halls, gripping the walls as if to steady itself. And the officer, Lorn Pelles, never looked away. Waiting for it to make its way to the corridor that leads to the communications centre. He didn’t realize it, but he was shaking. And had been for a long time.

Nobody told him –– nobody noticed. The rest of the survivors were fixated on the blaster door, waiting for it to tremble. Or be ripped apart.

One of the screens linking to the main hangar flashed with activity, and Lorn honed in on it with bewildered disbelief. Hope warmed his chest, and he zoomed in on the image. The markings on the ship were unknown, but it didn’t matter. It was someone else. Someone had heard their hail.

“Someone’s here.”

Slowly, one of the technicians looked over their shoulder back at Lorn. They looked tired and afraid.

“Who is it?”

“Does it matter?”

Nobody spoke. They didn’t know at this point.

​

ALLIES | TSE |
ENEMIES | GA | NJO | NIO | Elpsis Kerrigan

 

[Asmundr Varobalder]

THE_WARDEN
THERE IS NO CHAOS, THERE IS HARMONY
THE NEW JEDI ORDER | ZIOST | PEOPLE'S TOWER
URUZ

​

He’d never felt so out of sorts in his life. On Jakku, he’d been robbed of his iconic armour with no time to replace it. His current dress was much less glamorous but allowed him to be a bit more nimble. The largest worry of his exposure, however, was his head. The helmet he’d donned for the rest of the Stygian campaign protected him from external influence or intrusion; without it, he was..vulnerable.

Perhaps the greater loss was the distance he was from his ship. His home. The Prosperity. While his armour might have given him personal protection, that glorious sanctuary gave him spiritual harmony and connection. His concern for The Prosperity in hands other than his own was his ultimate trust in the gleaming Shield of the Jedi –– Auteme .

For a naive moment, he found himself lost. Wandering through the happenstances of should-haves and would-be’s. It might have only been the sound of his own name, his corporeal name, that drew his focus back to the mortal world. Even if it was just in the passing of comms –– but it was enough for him to hear the question meant for him.

“What is it?”

He didn’t reply straight away–– giving time for the conversation to continue between the other Jedi. He was still coming to the realization of how strange it felt to be facing these two losses all at once.

He hadn’t realized he’d become so reliant on materialistic protection. A fool’s mistake. Perhaps the robbery on Jakku, and the decision to leave Prosperity forced him into a realm of discomfort that pushed beyond his usual boundaries and revealed an opportunity for him to grow and learn. Not to rest on his laurels. And in this consideration, he felt an inkling less vulnerable, and something more akin to available.

"I have to take care of something beyond the city, it should not take long."

"Be careful, Master Zoryu. May the Force be with you."

“It will take him considerable time.” Asmundr spoke forebodingly but didn’t look at his companion. His sights were set on things not of this timeline but beheld a great collision of light and dark in the future. Sparks of amber danced in his golden eyes, making them luminescent along the threads of the horizon. Master Zoryu’s sense of timing was optimistic but painted a false hope for the two he was supposed to be working alongside.

“Without him, then. Until he needs us.”

His metaphysical hands navigated through the threads beyond the collision he saw ahead of Zoryu, occupying himself with the miasmic current that flowed through and controlled the city.

“The deception here is deeper than in the mind.” He finally explained, answering the earlier question Zark had asked when Asmundr’s face darkened with realization. “It’s in their hearts. And some of these hearts are stirred by dark whispers.

Can you hear them, Master San Tekka?”

With a vague gesture that looked like a J, the colossal hand of the Viking scooped through an invisible cauldron to stir up the heralds of the citizen army. A symphony of varying pitches and volumes briefly filled the space between them, murmurs of: Watch the sky

Watch the sky​

Watch the sky​

“We must assist in countering the coming storm. The Sith’s roots run deep, but those conscious might stretch toward our light. We may yet save some of these people and weed out corruption.”

The glow of his eyes faded, withdrawing from reading the ever-living Force. It let him go, taking to an inactive connection. Its constant chatter to him never stopped though. It might have faded, but since his Oneness, it was omnipresent in The Warden's awareness. For better or worse.

"We might have the ability to outshine evil."

FORCE HARMONY: INACTIVE​

ALLIES | NJO | GA | NIO | Zark San Tekka | Master Zoryu
ENEMIES | TSE | THE DARKSIDE | RED TOPS

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

ZIOST ORBIT | ASV UNNAMED
Equipment: Armour, Rifle, Grenades, Sidearm, Sabre, Ion Paddle Beamer, Cryo-Ban Gun.
Loske Treicolt

It was dark in the corridor. Flashlights provided a measure of illumination, but nonetheless it was rather dark. Elpsis used the Force to see, so the darkness was not really a problem for her. Shadows flickered across the walls. Here and there, red emergency lights flickered. Klaxxons howled, but nobody seemed to answer the call. With Shikoba as their guide, the soldiers moved methodically. Rifle or pistols in hand, they checked every corridor or room they passed. One downside of the flashlights was that it illuminated the corpses.

Such as a disembowelled Twi'lek. Her insides had been torn out and half of her lekku was lying two metres away. Her face was frozen in an expression of naked terror. There were more bodies like this. Dried blood clung to the floor and walls. Shikoba bent down, touching the blood. Her head shook slightly. "The horror, the horror," she muttered to herself. It was as if she was lost in some sort of trance.
Elpsis grabbed her by the shoulder. "Shikoba," she growled. "Focus.
"Canines slick with blood. Body of a demon. And in that demon, a woman trapped. The phoenix rages, and the void devours her.."
"You got a vision? Get to the point."

Red lights flickered on Vagt's lifeform scanner. "Listen," he barked. "We got contact!" Slithering noise could be heard coming from ahead of them and he instinctively levelled his bolter in the direction of the disturbance. Nyssa's shotgun had already belched flaming hot shards, tearing through a vaguely arachnid creature and causing it to fall through a hole in the ceiling before it could pounce Elpsis or the Vashyada.

Then they came. Driven by primal hunger and pure ferocity. The abominations saw a corridor filled with good meat and they would not let the buffet go to waste. "Open fire! Keep an eye on the rear." The hallway erupted in a fussilade of bolter fire, joined by scarlet salvoes from Reverence's repeating blaster. The Bothan Sergeant belched out explosive rounds in rapid succession, sweeping the semi-automatic grenade launcher across the corridor in a methodical pass. If the rounds did not kill, they would maim and slow at least. Body parts flew and smoke rose up into the air.

More came.

And were met with a hailstorm. The soldiers formed a circle of sorts, having been forced to cover multiple sides. Blinding, burning light rippled from Elpsis's hands, both to burn and blind the creatures and illuminate them for her comrades. A burst from her assault rifle followed. Nyssa's shotgun belched hot shards and when creatures started to get close and claw at her, she used the big weapon as an improvised club until she had the breathing space to ignite her lightsabre. Tahoka and Nuroch added to the mayhem with blade or illusions respectively.

"Kashara, cast your light upon us!" Zhaleh called out, summoning ice to immobilise or freeze. Amidst the explosions and salvoes, Rhea vanished in a cloak of the Force, reappearing as she propelled herself from the wall amidst the fire and the ice to cut down or telekinetically slam abominations. Diona wrapped a tight shield around her comrades when some abominations suddenly spat acidic volleys. Then she swung her Force imbued blade, cutting down bodies that clawed, bit or beat her. Shikoba, having seemingly regained her focus on the situation at hand, kept to the rear to wield her bowcaster and telepathically broadcast to her comrades when a threat was leaping towards them.

But there were still more, even as corpses piled up and the soldiers were showered in blood and gore. Screeches from all sides could be heard. "Move. Throw some grenades on these things. Nyssa, with me!" It was Elpsis' voice, though she did not remember saying it. She remembered summoning scalding flames meant to clear a path for her comrades and keep beasts at bay. She smelt charred flesh. She remembered wrapping her will around a beast that had pounced Rhea and was viciously clawing at her, throwing it against a wall with enough force its blood was splattered all over it.

And then she remembered seeing her.

 

[Sith Dominance]

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 | DECEASED Erskine Barran | Captain Raith | Irveric Tavlar | Tulan Kor | Maynard Treicolt | Willan Tal | Zirell Marxon | Kal Ostan | Taeli Raaf

"You are now, Major!"

"I- Well alright then." It wasn't often a Sith decided to just pass off command, but there was no way the Major would complain. If anything, it just made this that much easier. He was about to issue more commands when enemy fire opened up on the already retreating gunships and transports. The earlier artillery fire was more than enough to cover their landing.

Not so much the retreat.

Several of the vehicles fell from the sky, crashing. Exploding. Debris quickly lined around the camp. "Where's that deflector shield!?" He shouted over his shoulder just as it finally came online. Nothing too impressive, but enough to save what was left of the squadron. There was a light grumble before his gaze shifted back to Valen.

Only for the kid to be already gone.

"That's too impatient kid.." Well, hopefully he'd succeed with his own goal. Just in case though. "Get me one of those Transports, send them after the Sith. If he needs a ride, see he gets it." A swift salute from a nearby legionnaire was all the confirmation he needed. Good thing too, as more reports started flooding in.

"Sir! Enemy airborne units descending!"

"There's an enemy unit charging from the south! Bayonets? They have Bayonets!"

There was a groan from the major. Then a laugh. All they had to do was hold off for the sorceress's spell to do it's work. Had he not seen the effect of such spells with his own eyes, he wouldn't be so confident.

"Are the plans in place?"

Another figure stepped over. An Imperial Agent. The Chiss woman nodded once. "Good. Rain fire."

From a much safer distance away the heavy shells of the AT-HA once more rang through the air. A barrage of mortar fire was all these 'Demons' would meet on their charge forward.

The death of the preachers was enough proof for them. The city wasn't safe. Not for anyone. These damned invaders thought that because they held the city and 'protected' them. These angry individuals that felt the hopelessness. It was all too clear what had happened. No citizen killed one of their neighbors to protect these invaders. Propaganda would say they valiantly defended their town from a bunch of terrorists.

The reality though, was so vastly different. The alliance troopers would have no choice but to open fire. No one would do their work for them. Not these citizens of the Sith Empire.

And with those blasters, they sealed in the mind of every single citizen within New Adasta that these 'New Imperials' were even worse butchers than the Sith. The Sith didn't expect them to kill each other. For thousands of years the Sith had taken care of them. These troopers had no loyalty to the New Imperials. And no desire to fight.

The Starport was startlingly empty. The reason why was easy enough. Formerly unknown ways out of the city had been utilized. They, proud citizens of a nation known for war, had their ways out. And the Empire knew it. The Artillery shelling didn't just end at the edge of the city. There were no friendlies or civilians left within to be worried about.

Fire rained down from the Sith on a town only filled with the New Imperial traitors.

 

[Aelys]

ZIOST | New Adasta
Equipment: Saberstaff, New Jedi Order Jacket

Outside, the battle raged on.

There were lulls of silence where no one died. Unspoken ceasefires as the soldiers reformed and prepared for the next bout. He had seen it from the start, had been in New Adasta from the start.

Aelys moved from the place he had been standing in the cafeteria to look out the window.

He had been there when the Empire's own civilians remained in hiding when the Alliance forces bore down on the city. Silent, it had been then. They hadn't tried to stop the Empire then. Had they known what was coming? Had they not cared? The screams of terror, of pain that exploded in the Force were almost too much to handle at some points. All because the Sith didn't want to relinquish their hold on a dead world. The fight for the city had seemed pointless when the Sith reinforcements surrounded them.

"Why are we fighting for this place?" Aelys muttered in his musing. The window in the cafeteria was blown out, destroyed, but still he leaned on the window sill, ignoring the glasteel that tore through the sleeves of his jacket. Now tattered after weeks of wear and tear.

"They don't even want it," he answered himself, some moments later.

Laser cannon fire lanced through the city. Explosions rocking through the still streets in their wake. The death of a city. From the skies, fire fell upon the civilians that hid, or stood in the streets. It mattered little in the end where they had been. As rocks fell on the interior of Aelys, so too did they rain on the cowering civilians.

The death of the Sith's own city that they themselves burned, and destroyed.

"Why are we here?"

Turning to the sole occupant in the room with him, Aelys eyed the corpse on the ground. Calin Harr, the Sith acolyte scoundrel that he had slain. The path where his saberstaff had carved through his chest dark. But in his minds eye, Aelys could still see the burning glow and the acrid stench of burning clothing and flesh.

 

[Noel Strasza]

K I N G S L A Y E R
W A R M A C H I N E
2ND DOOM DIVISION | Julian Qar | THE WATCHMEN | 8/8
T A S K F O R C E I M P E R A T O R
ENGAGEMENT | OPEN - COME ONE, COME ALL!
"If God wanted you to live, he would not have made me!"

'Barran to Scout Leader! Glad to have you with us, but you're gonna need to run fast if you want the best action. Push straight west, sprint south, then west again as according to the bearings we're sending you now. You'll be right behind the same people we're fighting now. Good luck! Blue-Heart Alpha out!'

There he was. She loved him. His response earned a wicked grin from the Major, as hidden as it was, and she swiped the bearings he sent from her tacpad to her HUD, swiftly uploading them to share with the rest of her squadron. Quickly, their course was illuminated across her sight, painted in holographic hues defining markers and a path, one best coordinated with the efforts of the Lord-Major, as well as input from the other ground forces currently knocking on the gates of The Sith Empire. ​

<"Major, you seein' this chit?"> To her left, Tyco jerked his head skyward. ​

The cyborg twisted her gaze upward, squinting at the encroaching clouds. She hadn't noticed the rumbling thunder over the distant sounds of warfare. That seemed awfully unnatural. <"Looks like Sith fuckery to me."> she remarked, turning her attention back to the golden path carved through her vision. <"Leave that bit to the SJO to tackle. Those Jedi freaks can have fun handling that. We got bigger problems."> ​

<"Can't do anything about it, might as well not worry for now, yeah?"> Rogue sighed, sounding less than enthused about his commander's words. ​

<"Ever perceptive."> She retorted, glancing over her shoulder at the only other scout donning heavy augmented armor nearly rivaling hers. <"Crabs, you good?">​

<"Eh. I'll be better when I get all these warheads off my back."> The chiss sighed almost dreamily, lifting a hand from the bars of his bike to flash a plated thumbs up.​

After flanking around westward, The Watchmen had a much, much better angle on the formations of walkers. Safe distance was really a relative term, wasn't it? It was a fine concept in theory, but in practice... the New Imperials always had an answer for it. They could stay out of range of the forward ground forces, that Iron fist The Imperator sent to crash into them directly. But no one, it seemed, had taken note of the handful of dark riders closing from the west. They didn't need to get close. 40km was the maximum range on their launcher with automated assistance and the little hand provided by the scopes fixated along the barrel. That wouldn't be necessary, however, as even at this range, those towering AT-HAs were beacons of their own right.​

Strasza twisted herself about, torquing the accelerator of her bike to curve steeply, dragging it to a stop. The formation followed suit. ​

<"We got eight between us, no?"> Briggs was the first to dismount and raise his rifle, peering through the scope in the place of proper binoculars. ​

<"Before we gotta rally back and resup, aye."> Major slid from her seat and approached his side, one hand on the rifle kept slung across her chest and the other hidden beneath the drape of her hooded scattercloak. ​

<"Figure we'll get two off before they start noticing and follow the vapor trails back to where we are,"> Crabs remarked as he lumbered over, adjusting the lay of the missile launcher socketed into his shoulder-guard. ​

The Watchmen stood on a precipice some 20km away from the direct confrontation, mere specks of dust on the lenses of those who may have taken notice of them for some reason or another. ​

<"Looks like Kor's boys are charging."> Briggs shared with the class, raising a brow beneath his helmet. ​

<"'course they are. They're the Demons, it's what they do-">​

<"-walkers are about to lay some hurt on 'em."> ​

<"Well now, that just ain't polite. Let's give 'em a New Imperial salute."> Strasza pivoted, ushering Crabs forward. Together, the two of them hunkered down, Major bracing at the heavy trooper's flank to assist in keeping the recoil from his heavy weapon from toppling him over. She grabbed the warheads he passed off, unclasping them from the array of straps anchoring them to his back, and held them close, admiring the compact payload with a fiendish glint welling in her eyes. ​

<"On your order, Major."> Crabs stated through grit teeth, bracing himself for the blastback this particularly nasty launcher always struck him with. ​

<"Everyone else fan out and take positions. Knock holes in the heads of the supporting ground troopers."> The dar'manda ordered, nodding towards the idling scouts. ​

The little affirming responses came scattered when the scouts fanned out, dropping into prone amongst the debris and landscape, concealing their forms along the fringes of the AO.​

<"Alright Crabs, give it to 'em."> She hunkered down, bracing herself.​

The towering trooper locked on the first target, the AT-HA closest to their position, aided in his efforts by the guidance systems built into the lethal weapon. <"Locked."> His finger compressed the guard mechanism laid over the trigger housing. <"Firing one!">​

Without a second to spare, the heavy pulled the trigger, launching the first of many warheads to come. ​

That high-impact hatred zipped across the field, arcing around the outer edge of the defensive line from the squadron's undiscovered position. It closed distance rapidly until piercing into the side of the walker, detonating a mere fraction of a second after impact, filling the cracked interior of the armor with hellfire. Any of the 10-man crew who survived the initial blast would've been scorched alive, trapped inside of the armor that was meant to protect them. A grim fate, worthy of a bothersome foe. A pillar of black, hissing smoke erupted into the air, announcing the attack, unfurling choking tendrils into the darkening skies.​

<"That's a hit!"> Rogue relayed from his position closeby, spotting for the demoman. ​

<"Firing two!"> ​

A second warhead was well on its way, aimed for the next walker in the formation. ​

And all the while, the scouts singled out troopers on the ground, ripping them to shreds with rapid-fire lain down by deft hands and even keener eyes.​

Light called.​

Iron answered.​

ALLIES | NIO | GA | SJO| DECEASED Erskine Barran Willan Tal Maynard Treicolt Captain Raith Cotan Sar'andor Zirell Marxon Tulan Kor Irveric Tavlar
FOES | TSE | S-IMPS AND OTHER UNSAVORY FOLKS | Valen Sith Dominance

 

[Dagon Kaze]

TEMPLE ENGINEERING CORE, THE PROSPERITY
NEW JEDI ORDER
TO ENGAGE: Chasianna
THE GREAT MISCONCEPTIONS OF ME

Dagon's blade struck heavy at the Sith's shoulder only to be met by the shimmering response of an energy shield. The strength behind his swing both allowed the lightsaber to breach the shield's resistance and open his own defense to an opportune counter which she followed through with. He groaned aloud, wincing as the Sith's saber scalped his leggings and knee gruesomely blackening his flesh.

The Jedi spun around to face his adversary, catching a peripheral glimpse of Kaska arriving from his side. Her appearance left him rooted to his place with his guard up and a solemn look on his face. Words of concern were left unsaid, mired down by Dagon's dive into the Light, instead, "I will deal with her - help the rest."

Reckoning spurred him forward into another intimate lunge at the Sith; this time, a feign before seeking to disarm with a measured strike at her wrist. Her small stature turning precision into an ordeal.

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

 

[Marcis Sorr]

Objective: Find and eliminate high-value targets.
Equipment: Sorr's Shatterbracers | Close-Fitting Combat Suit
Writing With: Viers Connory

Blinking in confusion as the girl stumbled backwards onto the heart-shaped bed only to attempt some strange kind of flirting straight out of human holoseries, Marcis was at a loss for words. Was this some strange distraction tactic or truly how humans approached each other? Lunatics the lot of them, every young Echani knew the best way to flirt with someone was a moderately relaxed fistfight, preferably one without too much bruising.​

"I, ah, what?" Shaking his head, he was trying to figure the situation out when the bed suddenly started spinning, music playing, lights dimming.​

"Do. Not. Want. Stop! I was kidding!"​

"This is your doing, not mine," Came his indignant reply, even as his quick eyes noted the lightsabers on her hip. A Jedi. Perfect. The reasonable thing would be to just shoot her, but she wasn't a target, she was just some stranger. He wasn't entirely sure he was comfortable with that.​

"Screw this, I'm tying you up-" Freezing for a moment, his pale cheeks blushed to match hers as he began to shake his head aggressively. "Not like that, though. Not, agh, you know. You'll be a prisoner! A quiet one! I'll, I don't know, stuff you in a closet or something."​

Goodness knew she couldn't be out in the open - he needed the element of surprise for an ambush to work.​

Assuming this was even the Chancellor's suite, he was beginning to have his doubts.​