Invasion Hubris of Empires | The Cold War | Invasion of Ilum [Empire vs. Alliance]

[Aaran Tafo]

Location: Ilum
Equipment: Arete Talisman of Iron Fists
Opposing: Aoki-Barran Mira

The sheer, karking, audacity.

An open attack was obvious the moment the Imperials dissolved the Bastion Accords, for despite his optimistic and rather naive hopes, The Empire were just like their former masters, only backing agreements when it suited them, having no issue breaking any and all truces the moment it suited them. Ilum was a jab, a test, a taunt.

To the greater Alliance, the world wasn't that useful, it was out of the way, disconnected from the greater galaxy and had little strategic import. The main resource it could produce was not something the Jedi would be willing to let out into the market. Hell, the Imperials didn't even really need it. Kyber crystals could be found on other worlds in abundance, many of which fell under the Iron Curtain. But this was simply spite. Spite and the greed of petty men looking to pillage the sacred places of the galaxy for their short term material gains.

No. It seems this would not stand, Aldera was a warning for both sides, it should have stopped there. But it seems that like all things born of the Sith, base emotions ruled over common sense. The once proud, and some could say noble, New Imperial Order was swiftly devolving into nothing more than
rabid animals. Devouring everything in sight, lashing out at the slightest provocation

Below he felt, he could feel the planet cry out in protest. It had been a steady, quiet background noise since his feet first touched the snow. A lingering irritation at the edge of his senses, familiar but unclear. It was not until he received the rapid reports of the mining facilities across the world did he finally catch on.

His grip on the hilt of his blade tightened until the knuckles turned white as he stalked through the snow, the sheer white of his robes blending in with the background, rending him damn near invisible to the naked eye. His gaze set clearly on one of the outer mining rigs currently tearing tons upon upons of rock from deep underground, sifting through it to find the precious crystals buried within.

With a grunt, he leapt upwards from his hidden position, the Force carrying him to greater heights than his flesh would allow. Free hand grasping at the railing as he hoisted himself over and onto the platform proper.

"Jedi!"

And it seems the element of surprise was gone. Not that he really cared much for it. Part of him wanted the Imperials to know he was here. So quick they were to denote restraint as weakness, not ever considering that maybe, perhaps the reason that the Jedi held back so much was because they knew how powerful they were. And had no desire to become tyrants of the Galaxy.

He turned to gaze at the young man who was attempting to acost him. While his blindness stopped him from discerning exact details, he could tell from the sound of their voice, the eagerness and tension in their movements that they were young. Probably around the same age as the Padawans that had been sent to check out some of the caves earlier.

For a moment he wondered just how Ichika Masudo was doing, before he dismissed such concerns. His Padawan was well-trained, and surrounded by allies. Even if they did run into Imperial Patrols, they'd get out of it fine so long as they stuck together and worked as a team. It was going to be one hell of a trial by fire for Corin Trenor . But they were a sensible sort when they stopped allowing their emotions to influence them.

The Padawans would be fine. Right now he needed to focus on his own objective. Shutting down this drill and then working his way deeper behind Imperial lines.

He barely even turned to look at the Imperial Squire as they charged him, letting out a roar with their saber held high. Opening their assault with a fearsome downward slash.

Which be promptly stepped around, the pommel of his sword already moving to slam into the young man's midsection. Knocking the wind clean out of their lungs.

"Sleep." He intoned, other hand moving to grasp their face as he allowed the Force to flood their mind, guiding the various parts of his brain to shut down and drive the man into a deep slumber. Despite his somewhat more agitated state, he wasn't here to go on a slaughter. He'd rack up a bodycount by the end of the day sure. But he wasn't going to go out of his way to take the life of a kid the same age as his own students.

The Stormtroopers who were currently raising their weapons at him on the other hand......

They were trained killers, drilled to obey any order, no matter how foul, without question. Who would engage him from range as opposed to close quarters where he could knock them out quickly.

"If you want. Put your weapons down and surrender. You have my word you'll be given fair treatment by the Alliance." Basic pattern recognition told him his offer would fall on deaf ears. But basic decency demanded that he make the offer regardless.

Their response was the flicking off of safeties and the hum of blaster rifles warming up.

His thumb pressed against the guard of his blade, unsheathing it by an inch. "Have it your way then. Galidraani rules until one of you says otherwise."

---

It didn't take too terribly long. The Stormtroopers were good, but in the end they were mortal men fighting a blatantly superhuman opponent in their ideal environment of a close quarters fight. With a flick of his wrist, the blood leapt off his blade, staining the snow around him in a neat semi-circle. He pulled some of his blows, leaving painful, but non-fatal blows to a few of them when he could.

But all of those men knew what they were getting into when they decided to invade this world. He did not relish the lives he took so far today. But it was a grim necessity to hopefully convince the Imperials that perhaps they were better off seeking other avenues of conquest and not picking a fight with a power that was perfectly capable of matching them.

Idly, he stretched his senses out further, trying to see if he needed to take care of any stragglers, a frown crossing his face as the echoes of distress reached him from deeper in one of the caves. Did someone get lost in there? A technician or a trooper that stumbled and fell?

The pragmatic thing to do would be just to leave them and move on. But even as the thought crossed his mind, he was already moving deeper into the mouth of the cavern. Enemy or not, he wasnt going to let someone starve or freeze to death in a cave.

The back of his neck itched again, as the phantom sounds reached his own supernaturally attuned senses. The echoes of the Force of such a holy world allowing him to listen in on someone else's own internal turmoil. His head craned over the edge of the pit where another Imperial Knight had fallen down in.

"Why are you still with the Empire!"

"A good question." He called down, standing crouched over the edge. "You really on board with all this? You don't really seem the type."

 

[Sars Sarad]

Objective 1
Allies: The Empire
Enemies: GA; Nida Perl
Equipment: Armor; Duster; Lightsaber; Old Sin

---

The Gunship that he'd been on when the ambush had occured had crashed into the icey, snow covered surface of Ilum without any warning. Sarad, as well as several Mercenaries in the employ of the Hutt Space Consortium had been riding in the transport to assist in the Empire security detail when an explosion had rocked the interior. He remembered turning his head as a massive piece of the Gunships durasteel hull was ripped away, flames replacing it while several bodies flew out of the breach to a likely death.

It all went black soon afterwards.

The Crash would remain a blank in his memory forever. As Sarad opened his eyes he was greeted by the twisted metal of the Gunships interior and a flashing red light instructing everyone on board to prepare themselves. For whatever reason the red light remained active though the remnants of the Gunship were little more than a wreckage.

As he left the crash site of the wreckage, climbing to his feet and stumbling out into the open he'd have finally felt the cold. Ilum was a cold world and the temperature seemed to reinvigorate his senses as he moved into the open, stumbling a moment before recovering his balance.

When he moved out into the open, his feet adjusting to the snow covering thick layers of ice and permafrost which had already been crushed down by others he'd have activated the lenses fitted over his eyes so that they could begin feeding information to him via his armor. A noise, the sound of shouting voices and blasterfire became more apparent to him too. An explosion was heard somewhere nearby.

Turning his head Sarad saw that the wreckage he;d come out of was on a ridge that lead into one of the many interconnecting caves that they were told stretched out across the planets surface. More sounds were heard coming from within.

A sensation, like a buzzing in the back of his mind that made the hairs on his neck stand up made him take notice. The Force was telling him something.

Moving forward, choosing his footsteps carefully Sarad would press onwards and into the mouth of the cavern that he was nearby. Blasterfire erupting again as Alliance and Imperial Soldiers engaged one another though he barely turned his head...

 

[Bex Tarring]

Friendlies: Forces of the Empire Michael Barran Hall Mannarra Lily Stevens [OPEN]
Hostiles: Forces of the Galactic Alliance [OPEN]

---^>^>^>^>^>^>---
Major General Bex Tarring
Bramber Division
Fourth Brigade Mobile HQ
1st Battalion
IMPAF Controlled Territories
ILUM

​

The horrific nature of war meant that the enlisted soldiers of the Bramber Division, numbering near ten thousand active personnel, could be deployed in any theatre of war, any military arena, in any role, at any time of their superior commander's choosing. Today was Ilum.

It was cold, the chill biting harshly as the men of the Fourth Battalion waited for deployment, and sat inside their transport vehicles like a spring, coiled with tension that could burst open at any time. Their warm uniforms were more suited to this particular work than regular infantry deployment.

The Fourth Battalion were the armoured element of the Division. They comprised the mighty Cataphract tank, backbone of the Imperial war machine, and purveyor of countless victories in the name of the Empire. Their battle honours were numerous and mighty, an impressive list of engagements that would make every Galidraan mother burst with pride.

Even those whose sons did not return.

Hundreds of lads were buried in numerous locales across Imperial space, buried with as much honour as the Empire could muster in the often hasty retreat or redeployment that followed a battle. Major General Tarring had the unenviable duty of handing out both commendations for gallantry and official grievances to the families of the dead. Many a Bramber town knew the individual suffering of losing their heroic men to some foreign field, at the hand of some foreign devil. Today was no different.

It would be harder to dig graves here, thought Captain Polegate, commanding officer of the Fourth Company, 1st Battalion, Fourth Brigade. The 'Mighty 4-4' as they were colloquially known had the unique task of manning the squadron of MLVs that had been seconded to the Division for this particular campaign. With the enormous firepower offered by the accompanying Predators, Polegate knew that their use in this field would be minimal. Unlike the Cataphracts of the standard Imperial force, these missile batteries would, as best they could strike as close to where they intended as possible; the chances, however, were up to fate. The majestic destruction that could be rendered upon the enemy forces was absolute and total. Tactical strikes were less of an anomaly, more of a near implausibility.

Polegate radioed along the line, checking each of the fifteen vehicles, the missile launchers fixed as standard to the back of the trucks, their stance set to a 'deployed' state. In short, they were now immobile.

A sublime target to any Alliance fighters that decided to make the brave descent into 'atmos' and pick them off.

Polegate has his orders from the General. Wait to receive further orders. Their role today was singularly supportive. Usually, in the first wave of any assault, the boys would sit behind the line today, ready with the necessary firepower to lay waste to any tundra that required churning up with missile support.

To ensure guaranteed success in this conflict, the Major General had authorised the delivery of the Rhypalm warheads, capable of delivering an unfriendly and devastating payload. It wasn't something anybody wanted on their person or armour. It would require DECEASED Erskine Barran 's particular authority in this instance as it would have no way of differentiating friend from foe, save the accuracy of the information given to the HQ of the fire teams.

Polegate fired back a bark through his comms.

<Bramber 4-4 to Bramber One. We are effective and ready. Standing by for orders to engage.>

The clipped and baritone voice that responded belonged to the leader of the Division, a Galidraan of some renown who had caught the eye of the famed Erskine. Major General Bex Tarring.

<Bramber One to 4-4. Good to hear. Stand by and wait for instructions. They'll come thick and fast if and when they do come. One out.>

Polegate replaced his comm handset and breathed a heavy sigh, his chest filled with the cold air of the day. He surveyed the wide plateau, the tundra beneath their concealed ridge, setting them elevated at the foot of a natural incline. It offered unobstructed views of the lake and the tundra around.

An explosion rang out.

Sooner than we thought, perhaps.

Spoiler: Fourth Brigade, First Battalion, Fourth Company

1 HQ Vehicle
3 Cataphract Tanks
15 MLV with Predator Batteries
4 APC (120 infantry assigned)

​

 

[Pa'Kar Sang]

Enemies: Ignacious Korvan | Hakon Fett
Allies: Liedran Kathause | Caltin Vanagor | Caedyn Arenais​

ANV Courageous​	Operational​
ANV Vigil​	Operational​
ANV Intrepid​	Operational​
ANV Defiance​	Operational​
ANV Aspiration​	Operational​
ANV Accordance​	Operational​
ANV Eclipse​	Operational​
ANV Archex​	Operational​
ANV Yrica​	Operational​
ANV Rosan​	Operational​

Ilum? Why Ilum? From what he understood the Imperial Knights didn't revere the Kyber crystals nearly as much as the Jedi Order. In fact, they made synthetics. Not only that, but the reported leader of the Imperial Knights, Lucien Dooku, had been absent from nearly every major Imperial battle for months. Kyber-enhanced weapons had been a source of much contention and as far as he knew they were far too temperamental and far too expensive to bother with in large numbers. Unless you held a mountain of small lightsaber crystals you couldn't do anything worthwhile. Had the Empire found a large enough crystal on Ilum? Pa'Kar's eyes narrowed into black slits as he watched the blue and white lines of hyperspace race past. Reinforcements from the Metallos system had already arrived it seemed but now the 5th was here.

The Courageous and her fleet dropped out of hyperspace, her hull sporting fresh red stripes denoting her a ship of the Crimson Command. The core battleline of the fleet was the new Courageous-Class star destroyers. Leading the attack was a formation of four Paelloeon III-Class Star Destroyers. Slower and less maneuverable than their Entralla-built cousins, they boasted an impressive assortment of powerful weapons, if not less exotic. They were the hammer of his fleet, blunt and one-note. Scattered among them were the light cruisers and corvettes for support and picket duty but until the Carrier Fleet arrived this would do. If he played his cards carefully he might be able to pull a victory despite the overwhelming firepower of the Imperial Fleet. He-

"Sir! Incoming fire!"

The shields of the Courageous took a smattering of hits. Turbolasers, mass drivers, and other exotic weapons hammered his fleet as soon as they fully decelerated into their positions out of hyperspace.

"What?!" Had the opposing admiral just fired into the egress point? Not the most reliable tactic, though if they'd dropped out a second earlier they would have faced the full brunt of the attack. The swiftness with which the barrage ended told him they'd come in right at the tail end of the attack.

"One of the frigates and two of the corvettes took heavy damage sir," Already? "but it seems the rest of the fleet is fine. The Paelleons took most of the fire." Bless those tanky Star Destroyers. Bless them.

"Return fire! I heard some Padawans are the ones that found the Imperials. They'll need our help. Push forward and make a hole in the blockade! We need to get more troops on the ground!"

​

​

 

[Varen Ardos]

​

Hallowed Scar

Location: Caverns, Ilum, Unknown Regions
Gear: Green lightsaber | Blaster pistol

Direct tags:
Zhea Nox | Aschwin Vethres

​

"Varen, to your right!"

Varen dove into a roll, letting a scarlet blaster bolt pass over his head and he hopped back up, emerald green lightsaber still held up in the Soresu starting position. One leg in front of the other, shoulder width apart, as he stuck his arm out in front of him, palm facing down lightsaber raised above his head parallel to his other arm. "Thanks Master!" He managed moving into a high block as a flurry of blaster bolts deflected off his saber. Back into the fight it was, claustrophobic and closed-in, the jagged stalactites that hung from the cavern roof like icy blades gave a feeling of closed offness. It was quickly sheared off by a bolt that just zoomed past his head. The brown-haired padawan advanced slowly put kept close to his master.

Step. Block. Step. Parry, he made sure to keep his footwork tight in the cavern. Pushing on toward an Imperial stormtrooper, he stared him down and saw everything he hated. It all came back, sitting in the stark, stale and sterile white classrooms of the Imperial Academy. The same helmet that he had seen commit atrocities against civilian protestors that fateful morning. It was the same helmet that represented all that he wished to fight against. And in that single moment, something seemed to flash across his facial features, anger. Hatred.

<Try not to kill them, Varen. It's not our way.> she told him telepathically as she sent a groop of Troopers flying with the Force, hopefully just knocking them out.

Master Zhea was in the habit of always giving the best advice, and keeping him on the straight and narrow. What, even if for just a second had just consumed him dissipated quickly. Despite being an avowed rebel, he did not traffic in vengeance and wanton violence. And while he had no qualms about maiming in self-defence or violence is some circumstances, he knew the limit. Whatever activities he might take up, he was a Jedi first and foremost, and he was not going to compromise those principles, or, at least try his best. Varen raised his free arm, and pushed off with the Force, sending the trooper flying into the cavern wall, likely clean out.

<Varen, will you be able to push forward and help the others stop that drill if I draw these Troopers the other way?>

"Yes Master! I'll see you later, may the force be with you." He nodded, spinning round into a slash that severed the Bozdugan blaster rifle of another foe, turning into a smouldering mess. Before his enemy had a chance to try and recover from the situation, Varen sent a powerful kick to their chest, before dashing through the cavern, artfully dodging stalactites and hopping over stalagmites, the light slowly peeking through as he dashed, halting before another stormtrooper armed with a wickedly sharp knife. Chest heaving as he panted, the two circling each other in the narrow passage, the trooper lunging and Varen performing an upward slash across their chest, hurtling forward without sparing a second. Light flooded through as he made it out, leaping up through a hole and out into the open.

His destination. The North Mining Chasm. Varen was going to stop that drill if it was the last thing he did.

 

[Osarla Ridor]

GENERAL RIDOR
222ND NOVA CORPS | 512TH LEGION | 312 ATTACK BATALLION
ILUM | DRILL SITE | NORTH POINT MINING AREA

​

In the snow trenches, officers screamed out their orders to make themselves heard above the gale-force winds. Marines hurried to carry out their commands, running through the snow with bazookaike weapons on their shoulders, and lodging death rays along the icy rims of the drill site.

Power generators near the mobile artillery’s defences were popping, buzzing, and crackling with deafening bursts of electrical power and positioning their scopes at integral points of the drill.

Osarla, her company, and her Padawan, were in the trenches. Forcing their way through the lines and progressing inch by inch with

<Get those charges planted!> Osarla bellowed above the din of the environment and warfare. Reporter and Brick gave a two-fingered salute, registering the order, and deviated from the cluster of conflict to the primary tool of The Empire.

The tool was bad, but Osarla and her company’s objective was more than the Padawans. Split from the rest of the 222nd, Tortuga Company had been instructed by their captain to pursue a rescue mission.

Sure, the Jedi were capable. But her Padawan was in there. Her nephew. The only thing that separated them from being family was blood.

“I will look after him.” Osarla remembered promising the Pryce family. It had started out as playing with a newborn, dangling colourful toy over his head and dazzling his interest. Then retelling stories to him before bed, watching his favourite episodes of TRAA and secretly teaching him to drive a speeder. Gabrielle was cute, but Gabe had always been her favourite of the twins. When Gabe had been recognized as Force-sensitive, the dynamic shifted to something more responsible. More full of expectation and responsibility.

That promise was not one she intended to break.

Mercifully, Sion hadn’t been on that Padawan adventure to Ilum too. She wasn’t sure her sensibilities would have stayed intact if both her students, both her responsibilities, were encased in ice and threatened by The Empire’s unmerciful warriors.

“Sion!” She shouted through the windstorm. It was a meagre warning.

A thin blue-white beam of light shot from one of the invaders’ blasters; its intense heat bore into the white mound and scattered gleaming snow flecks in all directions. Reflex burned in her chest and head and widened its spread to overtake the motion of her arm, wrapping around Sion’s bicep and pulling him away from the blinding splatter of fire and ice.

She let go instantly and pointed her sabre forward to the yawning mouth of the cavern she could sense Gabe within. His stress was much stronger than before. For the most part, she'd relied on Sion's empathetic skills to navigate them to his location. Doing so, she tried to offset much of the battle's emotions by leaning in on the fighting and leaving him to the feeling.

"How close are we now?"

---

ALLIES | GA | NJO | DIRECT | Sion Lorray | INDIRECT | Zhea Nox | Varen Ardos | COMING FOR BEBE Gabriel Pryce
FOES | THE EMPIRE | Enyo Typhos

 

[Julius Sedaire]

​

Location: Ilum
Equipment: Jedi Armor | Jed-Cred | Warden Cloak | Rings: 1 & 2 | Aing-Tii Arm | Green Sword Lightsaber | Bryar Pistol
Allies: Calix of Thyrsus
Opposing: The Empire Itself | Castor E-196

Julius had seen more of war than most. And had even largely backed away from much fighting other than small-scale things. So how he had found himself on an Alliance planet in an Alliance bar with an old member of his covert squad, the Green Devils, wasn't beyond him. But how he had accepted the man's offer to put him in touch with the GA brass, and how he had been signing back to the New Jedi Order and attaching to this military operation was.... Beyond him... Technically he was along the lines of a consultant, expected to function independently but under nominal Alliance command.

But at he looked at the excitement still evident in Calix, he smiled. And suddenly he remembered his first good war. The rush of adrenaline. The nerves. The eagerness to prove himself. And the spikey lattice of fear lacing through it all as the only common factor, tinging his thoughts just enough to clench his guts a bit. It was to do right by the boy, in a way the Republic had failed to do by Julius himself in his opinion. So he had trained the lad extra hard as they had burned en route, but not just at kata and drill. Education on the nature of the Force. On ethics and morality. On why Ilum was important. On why, in some ways, it wasn't. The whole picture, like Marusun had never given him as a Padawan.

Now they stood in the midst of a smoking drill unit, Alliance soldiers taking prisoners, executing resistors and evacing wounded. The Green Jedi dropped his lightsaber to a single-handed size from the pike length he had grown it to and deactivated the silvery green blade, clipping it to his belt and twisting the bryar pistol at his hip as he did, checking the ammo counter and nodding. Wiping sweat from his brow, he turned to regard Calix, who was no more than a few paces from his side.

The young Thyrsian had fought well, and he had been pleased to see it. But that was a precision strike on an already disabled drill that was undergoing field repairs. Resistance on true targets would be stiffer, and far deadlier, and he said as much aloud as he bent and tightened the straps to his boots.

"We'll have better, but more challenging, fighting the closer to that convoy we get. Hopefully, they didn't see our strike in and we can still soften the left flank and turn them so others can strike from the right sow confusion and keep them unbalanced. Tell me, why is it key that such a small but elite pair of teams as we command keep the enemy unbalanced and misdirected, given our superiority in gear and arguably in skill, my Padawan?"

War seemed to have awoken something in the old lush, and he stood straighter than usual as he finished his question, eyes clearer and piercing in a way Calix might be unused to just yet. Others like Coren Starchaser or Jorus would recognize the shift. But not many others knew the old blademaster that far back anymore.

 

[Sharad Dhavale]

SITE THETA GEHEIM
UNTERNEHMEN KYBER STURM; Evacuation Protocol
53rd Sturmpioneer Brigade
Allies: Iseri Tanaka
Enemies: Justice Lesan | Lyann Nadnia

​

“Move it maggots!” The harsh voice of Major Leye Arturo barked over the loudspeakers, “I want movement down there!” Arturo snapped, his gravelly voice managing to crack like a whip, “We are blowing this site in t-minus five now, so get a wriggle on!” The Major punctuated his orders with the click of the intercom being turned off. Sharad rolled his eyes. As if they needed anymore warning about what was going on. Site Theta Geheim was an Imperial Navy dig site. Unlike the other kyber mines founded on Ilum, this one had been wiped from the charts. The reasoning for this was this source, seemed to be some archaic Jedi temple. A rich vein of kyber. One, Rausgeber, considered too rich to be wasted on the Inquisitors or Imperial Knights. No. It should belong to the Navy and not be wasted on force users. For the last month and a half, a series of small demountable structures had been erected before the mouth of the cave-like temple, and half a battalion of Prefbselt Auxiliary Sturmpioneers, or army engineers dispatched. Along with heavy equipment, and Naraka worksuits to take kyber from the temple.

He should’ve worn the bloody gloves. Sharad silently cursed his ineptitude as he grunted, fingers painfully seething against the heavy orange crate as hot steam escaped his nostrils. Of all the assignments, snow. Why the hell did it have to be snow? Sharad kept stumbling forward, as his partner in hauling the crate, Corporal Second Class Sunar Rishi, backed the crate up. “Sharad,” Rishi wheezed, “Can we just take a break?” Sharad gave a curt nod, and both men dropped the crate into the plush, almost fluffy snow. Rishi arced his back, as Sharad reached for his gloves and looked around the dig site. It was chaos. Dozens of Prefsbelt Auxiliaries, clad in various shades of black and grey frantically were moving around the dig site. Packing equipment away into crates, and aboard the two gargantuan juggernaut tanks. Laying explosives. And in the case of one squad, taking the research and logistics logs, and burning them, and the terminals they were on.

“We can’t stop,” Sharad mused, putting the gloves on, and flexing his fingers. He could sense the eagle eyes of NCO’s gazing at them. “Lets go.” He fixed the balaclava around his face, just under his nose and crouched on his knees. Before reaching down and clinging to the handles of the crate, and grunting as he hauled it up. He and Rishi trundled toward the juggernaut, as soldiers aboard it, frantically attached some form of antenna array on the roof. They moved to the small freight elevator, and dropped the crate, before hustling back to the collection point. There weren’t too many crates now. All bright orange, some ravaged with frost.

“This’ll be the last one,” Sergeant Rickard Vales gruffly informed them. He was a tall fellow, Dosuunian by descent. He wore a big black coat, over his grey tunic with a belt of patches around his chest and waist, “I got Lucas comin’ in, he’s just finished with the detonators.” Vales looked over the two of them, and gestured to a nearby crate. One labeled, ‘Sabers’. The Sergeant looked over the two, “But uh, take a breather.” The Sergeant mused, pulling out his ration issue, ‘Prefsbelt’ brand cigarettes. He flicked open the packaging, and offered two rolls. Sharad took the first, and Rishi a second.

“‘Ppreciate what you boys are doing here, on short notice.” Rickard mused, looking out at the cavernous temple. It was a marvel, built into a shear cliff face. Each side of the temple had gargantuan, stone Jedi sentinels, immaculately carved on either side. Even from the distance they were away from it, the cave had a glimmer to it. Glowing a mix of blue, green and purple. Almost glimmering away. “But just generally.” Vales mused eyeing both as they lit up, taking drags. Sharad for a brief moment, took off his reinforced durasteel helmet, and let his head breathe in the ice cold of the snow. He curled back the black, tightfitting bodysuit hood around his head, exposing his nasty hat hair. “But, hopefully. We beat this Alliance scum, we can fix ourselves a new posting. I’ll petition Major Arturo.” He then paused and looked to another squad moving toward him. “Double time it!” They followed, trudging through the snow at a steady sprint. “You’d think,” He gestured up to the juggernaut as the antennae was hauled into place, and began to be fixed in, “These bastards would’ve figured the Walkers,” He looked now to the Naraka suits in the distance, marching in formation. “Would’ve been best suited for this.” The group then paused, watching as the Walkers for a moment seemed to spasm, before leaning down and arming themselves. Sharad’s eyes squinted. That wasn’t normal, was it? “Right, ‘nuff of that. Get that last crate up there, and get yourselves stowed away.”

Sharad tucked the cigarette to the left of his mouth and reached down once more for the crate of kyber. He and Rishi hauled it toward the lift. Now a sense of urgency reached them. Five minutes and go was soon reaching its mark. They wordlessly grunted and wheezed as they moved to the lift, dropping the crate. “Right,” The foreman barked from the cargo hatch, “You hold on,” The senior NCO gruffly snapped, before leaning back into the tank hull. The lift began to grind its way up, groaning as it reached up to the hatch. Now Sharad and Rishi could see into the cavernous tank’s cargo hold, which was filled with stacks of the kyber crystals, magentically sealed, “Move it in, put it on that palette there!” The NCO barked, “And then get yourselves up to the crew bay.” Sharad and Rishi nodded, grunting and having to crouch as they brought the kyber crystals in. They then shuffled over to the stack of crates, listening to the whirring of the lift as it went down to pick up the last few crates.

“I reckon we should get ourselves some decent seats.” Rishi mused, moving toward the ladder to the upper deck, “Make sure we get rested.” Sharad sighed in agreement, taking another drag from his cigarette as he followed suit. Clambering up the cold, and sterile ladder to the upper level. "Chit." It was filled with his fellow Sturmpioneers. Dressed in various combat fatigues and armour, leaning against the cold and sterile walls. Heating, a luxury which wasn’t quite being pumped through. Sharad followed Rishi, as the latter soldier made his way to one of the gun ports, and slumped against it on an ammo crate. “Well, that’s that, you reck-” They were cut off, by a detonation. There was a rush inside the tank, as the soldiers inside moved to examine what had happened. Outside, the cave to the Jedi Temple, its entrance, in a series of concussive explosives, was destroyed. Rock, snow and ice cascaded down, and crumbled. The two Jedi Sentinel statues, standing watch, fell forwards. Dead. The demountable structures. The cold, often times underheated barracks and mess hall they had been forced to sit in for the last months? Destroyed.

There was a distinct pause, and then a cheer. A raucous cheer. Stupid Jedi. Stupid cave. No more of that. A buzz on the intercom cut them short however, “Congratulations.” Major Arturo declared. “You managed to succeed in clearing the cargo. We’re cleared to move. I am proud, of each and every one of you.” And with that, the large, gargantuan tanks began to rumble to life, along with a bevy of escorting speeders and speeder bikes, making tracks through the snow. As they left behind the smouldering Jedi Temple, Sharad could not help but think, how lucky it was for them to be leaving this Godforsaken hellhole behind. Nothing, and he meant nothing, could have been worse than there. Right?

 

[Delilah Jones]

DAGGER-6
LIEUTENANT
THE EMPIRE
OVER KYBER MOUNTAINS | ILUM

ALLIES: Liam Docherty | DECEASED Erskine Barran | Bex Tarring | Saul Vandron | Hall Mannarra | TE
ENEMIES: GA | NJO
ENGAGING: Mylo Thorne | Kaul "Joker" Emos | Addison Porte | Shar Sieu | Kelly T. Perris
GEAR: Armour | Pistol | 2x Vibroknives | TIE

EDGE OF SEVENTEEN​

Vanguards!

Yeah, boy! What an upgrade for this engagement. Seemed like Jon Kovacs could at least do something right sometimes. At least the scumbag wasn't on this flight.

Instead she was stuck with a Galidraani that could talk the hindleg of a dog straight...

<You even know how to fly this thing, Hotshot?> she asked the man in the Vanguard on her right. The wind wasn't working with them out here. Visibility was shit, draft was shit, everything was shit.

She wanted to shoot shit.

It was nice speeding over the frozen ground.....why was it always a damnable frozen planet?? Stuff always went to hell in a handbasket on frozen worlds. Krownest, Csaus...now this? And why was it always with a rookie in the Flight?

The scanner blared at her.

<There! At eleven! Strafes!> Del gunned the fighter. <Form up and keep it tight for now. Let's sink those orange wasps." she ordered the Flight. She never thought it would come to this - they've had tensions in the past with the guys from Revenant Squadron, but she'd never thought it would escalate to the point of outright war.

It sucked.

Oh well....
<Docherty, you survive this, you buying first round after this. Thanks.> Tradition. And with this engagement guaranteed to bring in a good paycheck, they could at least have a few rounds of drinks. She'll sure as shit need it.

The TIEs howled over the frozen ground, kicking up even more snowdrifts as the wind. It'd be shit to maneuver nicely in these conditions. They'll have to dot their i's and cross their t's correctly if they wanted to do this right.
<Lock and fire lasers, ladies. Burn 'em up.>

It sucked but the by the time their blips would appear on Echo-Flight's scanners in this weather....

...it'll be almost too late...

 

[Gabriel Pryce]

Allies: Varen Ardos | Osarla Ridor | Zhea Nox
Enemies: Aschwin Vethres

Gabe had a practice lightsaber. That was it. When the group of Padawans had found the Imperials and the Hallowed Scar it had been a wild experience getting back out. Some didn't make it out. Like him. He'd been hiding in the caverns for ages until he found it, or rather felt it in the Force. The Hallowed Scar. The loud clanking of machinery reminded him of the Industrial Sector on Corellia. Despite its purpose and the pain it was causing, it soothed him. Now though, he was surrounded by some strange-looking stormtroopers.

"Karabast," Gabe muttered. Why couldn't he have kept up with the others? Well, they didn't know he was using a training blade. It hummed in the screeching icy wind, its glow keeping the four troopers on their toes, their boots shifting uneasily in the snow-covered icy surface.

And then a Jedi leaped from a hole beside Gabe.

"What-?!" One of the troopers stumbled back, Gabe took the opportunity and dashed forward, his blade swinging for the neck of the stumbling trooper. The trooper screamed and jerked wildly, dropping his blaster and falling to the snow.

"Hey- Is that a training lightsaber?!" One of the other troopers asked in mocking disbelief.

 

[Veno]

Just another asset of the Empire.

Nameless, numberless; non-existent. Veno better resembled Imperial hardware more so than personnel. His stoic silence beneath the armour portrayed as much, even if somewhat uncharacteristic for the undoubtedly psychopathic. But an assassin required a certain type of mettle, especially one that existed in the shadow of the Empire. Only to be briefly allowed out into the light to play.

"I can talk." His slimy little voice reassured the crew of the Dead Maiden, "I watch, I learn. Plus, you're occupied."

Veno shifted his yellow-tinted visors across to the rumoured cannibal, "And this one is hideous to look at."

Back to Rohak.

"Sooner we blow ourselves up, the sooner we can kill some of your degenerate kind." He sauntered forwards, a clear head and then some shorter than most, and examined the interior of this pirate vessel. Disgusting, homely so. "For a culture of barbaric warriors, their dedication to democratic allies confuses me. But you? Oh, I like you."

Hakon Fett Ignacious Korvan

 

[Enyo Typhos]

Enemy: Osarla Ridor (Opponent), also there: Sion Lorray

To some naive, delusional spirits the defeaning noise caused by the drills was an abomination. An act of despoiling a hallowed, sacred world. To Enyo, there was nothing holy about any world. A kyber crystal was a tool like any other. Amidst the ungodly clammer, the noise caused by blaster fire and the hiss of lightsabres was easily drowned out. The Galactic Alliance soldiers who had managed to penetrate this part of the trenches fought valiantly. And futilely.

Blaster fire impacted upon her heavy armour, absorbed by her energy shield, though scorching her in places. A beam of purple light chopped off limbs and clove through bodies. A cybernetic fist broke bones. A brave soldier, firing his blaster pistol continuously even though his leg was broken, got his neck broken when she crushed it with her foot. A marine cried out in pain as he burst into flames from a fireball.

Then there was only the noise caused by the clammers, though there was the distant rumble of artillery and crimson discharges of laser fire. She looked upon the corpses, silent, though in truth relaying commands to droid and cyborg units through electronic communication. So much more efficient than verbal.

"That was the last of them," she heard a soft voice as a presence approached her, snow crunching beneath her boots. Enyo's companion lowered her gun, one hand still glowing from the fire that had manifested inside it. "Though I sense more presences approaching Jedi." Like her, the being had the body of an HRD...but also was not a mere machine. But whereas Enyo was a brain forever encased in a robotic body, this one's mind was housed inside a crystal, for she was a Shard.

Enyo acknowledged her with a curt nod. "Deploy the Wasps for scouting, and tell your knights to ready themselves." A beat. "We've been here before."
By now Garnet knew Enyo well enough to not give the obvious response. "Organic history always follows the same patterns."
"The battles, the players...they all feel like reruns to me."
"Organics tend to fight over a very small number of planets in a galaxy of millions of options. A mere analytical survey would show they're not always the most strategic or populous ones."
"Maybe watching centuries of organic folly is what drove Onyx mad," Enyo muttered. Perhaps that had also driven her makers to try and usher in the Age of Steel. Now they were gone, destroyed by her hand. And her template was worse than dead...for she was trapped in a purgatory, a prisoner in her own body while a cabal of fools and knaves squabbled over her kingdom. To all intents and purposes, the clone had won...and grown weary of the galaxy.
"Perhaps I gave the corrupting influence of the Nether too much consideration when judging their madness," Garnet commented. "Perhaps the ennui of watching organics tread the same path endless times distracts one's focus. A point to consider." Whilst this philosophical discussion went on she had been reloading and blasted an enemy warrior with the weapon.
Sometimes Enyo thought about...leaving it all behind. Archangel? A tool. Unlike Siobhan, she wasn't a slave to legacy. But for now there was business to attend to. "Yes, time to hunt," Enyo stated crisply.

 

[Tiric Sar'andor]

-

​

HALLOWED_SCAR

Location: Caverns, Enroute to Mining Operation, Ilum, Unknown Regions
Unit: Task Force Ysalamiri
Equipment:

Spoiler

Light Armour [Cold Weather Variant] | Vishnu Military Shield |Assault MagRifle w/ Suppressor | Concealed Vambraces | Combat Knife | Black Bag | Jetpack

TASK FORCE Y:
IVI | Dominik Borra | Driver | Xandyr Carrick | Cordé Sabo | Phaineve Halseigh | Vyn Daldoure

​

A small part of him wondered how his opponent might be feeling at this time. Getting in the mindset of the opponent was key, and had never failed him thus far. Tiric expected force users were used to being the hunters rather than the hunted. But the tables were turning, slowly. It would take time for the Senate to warm to their actions, but he expected after the showdown on Teta, it was going to be difficult to deny that what they were doing was useful. There they were, lurking in the shadows. Tiric wanted to smoke out his prey, as per the rules of engagement.

The Director had given very explicit as to the rules of engagement. They were arrest and capture any Imperial Knights they found. M was a woman of astute optics, and he had an inkling that her hand was somewhat tied in setting these rules. But nevertheless, Tiric knew he had to take into account that these weren't the marauding Sith they had previously been sent against. But they were forcies and targets nonetheless, and Tiric was going to treat them as such.

The members of Task Force Ysalamiri skulked through the winding caverns of the sacred Jedi world. He wondered if Cotan had ever walked through these passageways looking for the Kyber crystals. He imagined his cousin had probably gotten lost on the way. "Double G, Dulcet, take point with me, the rest of you stack up and clear every single area and make sure to check you're equipment. Check every single nook and cranny, you all know the rules of engagement and remember to be careful around the forcie." He ordered.

Tiric rushed to the front of the group, carefully stepping over a stalagmite, clutching his brand-new rifle. He'd never liked brand-new weapons. This one reeked of that assembly line. It hadn't seen combat. It hadn't been baptised by war. But it would do the job and that was all he could ever ask for.

 

[Aschwin Vethres]

​

Aschwin Cassirer Vethres
Imperial Knight Templar
Heir of House Vethres
Shield of Bal Talmshaa
Commander of the 293rd

Location: World of Ilum, North Point Mining Chasm
Direct Tags: Varen Ardos , Osarla Ridor , Zhea Nox , Gabriel Pryce
Equipment:
Addlehorn Armor
Aschwin Curved Lightsaber
Post Number:
Two

"Colonel O'ren, we have reports coming in." Lieutenant Davi Harsh said coming up the ladder from the chasm entrance. "Put them through on the communication's relay." Colonel Burik O'ren said as the transmissions were forwarded to his personal datapad. "Sir, the 98th Stormtrooper Detachment assigned to our unit has been suffering heavy casualties in beta quadrant." Commander Delrado Peck said as he appeared within the traditional armor of the 293rd Heavy Shock Infantry. "Defense Force or Jedi?" Colonel O'ren asked with some hesitance. An alliance force they could handle but dealing with jedi was always troublesome. "We believe them to be jedi, Colonel. Other units within our area had confirmed similar attacks in their tunnels leading to the drill within this point." Commander Peck said without concern. They were trained to handle anything that came their way be it jedi or a full grown rancor. "Lieutenant, have units 59 to 86 withdraw back to alpha 3 along the main tunnel. Set up heavy repeater cannons and establish a clear defensive line." Colonel O'ren replied towards the lieutenant. "Yes sir, right away." Lieutenant Harsh replied going back down the ladder to communicate with those units. "Commander Peck, take your force and intercept them in a pinner move using whatever force you have remaining." The Colonel further added once the lieutenant had withdrawn from the area. "As you command, Sir." Commander Peck replied soon disappearing as the transmissions was cut between them.

"They are headed for the drill." Aschwin said in a firm tone towards the Colonel, having been present when the previous conversation took place. The Jedi Strike Team was heading to shut down operations within this area and then move on. "Affirmative commander." Colonel O'ren said having received additional reports that other units when the area were under attack. "Right then, stay here and command the forces topside. I shall proceed lower down into the chasm to protect the drill and personally take command." Aschwin said leaving no room for disagreement between them. The Alliance Vanguard Forces would be reaching this area more and more. His 293rd Heavy Shock Infantry was more than a match for whatever they threw at them. "Affirmative. Good luck down there." Colonel O'ren said as the base camp was already being fortified and defensive lines were drawn.

"I don't need luck, Colonel. My victory will be swift in the name of the empire." Aschwin said with passion clutching his fist as the living force flowed through him and leapt down into the chasm without using the ladder provided. Landing hard with a thud due to his heavy personalized Imperial Knight Armor called the 'Addlehorn'. Brushing himself off of the snow that had managed to get on his person in the meantime. The drill was loud behind him as he moved towards the defensive line established to defend it. The rush of personnel and troopers within this section was seen as everyone had been alerted doubletime that the alliance force would be on their way.

Moving towards the front of the line and reaching down to grab his personalized curved lightsaber from his belt. Although not having it ignited for now until he saw something of value to fight.

​

 

[Driver]

Ilum
Allies: IVI , Dominik Borra , Tiric Sar'andor, Xandyr Carrick , Cordé Sabo , Phaineve Halseigh , Vyn Daldoure ​

"Double G, Dulcet, take point with me, the rest of you stack up and clear every single area and make sure to check you're equipment. Check every single nook and cranny, you all know the rules of engagement and remember to be careful around the forcie."

“Roger that,” Driver replied with a half salute.

M had mentioned that these “Imperial Knights” weren’t as mindless as the Maw. She must have had her reasoning to do so, be it her own or an order from a higher up. To that degree, he wasn’t exactly looking forward to the whole ordeal. Strong or not, an animal is still an animal. It very often doesn’t take the time to strategize. It was when a tactical mind was added to the equation that someone became truly dangerous. And with lethal force being denied for this mission, things were gonna be a lot more difficult. A distant explosion took Driver out of thought.

“They’re really goin at it up there,” Driver muttered, adjusting his helmet. “Hope our exit isn’t to hot…”

Driver was very familiar with hot exits. They were common back in the Clone Wars. That didn’t mean he was fond of them.

 

[Jadwiga Drozd]

Ignacious Korvan

Jadwiga stood central at the battlemap as her ship emerged from hyperspace. Her face was always in a scowl, but right now as the volley of fire began it became more firm in that expression.

"Commodore, the fighters are preparing to launch." a junior officer reported. She nodded without looking, and waved him away as she pondered the positioning of her ship in relation with the rest of the fleet and that of the Empire's. The ANV Wildfire could take a hell of a punch but there was a feeling about this battle that put the hair on the back of her neck upright. There were things in play here that were wrong. While she could not put her finger on it, it nagged at her mind.

"Deploy the full compliment." Jadwiga said in a very calm voice to the next junior officer at her side. She walked away from the map and to the communicaations relay, "The flagship of the Imperial fleet, try to hail them." she whispered to the communications officer, before leaving back to the map to observe the proceedings. She was but one ship in the multitudes, but she was going to ensure that she did all that she could and more. Her crew was ready for this, they were trained for this, and now they had to put that training into practice.

Expressionless as the fighters began to scramble from the bay, she merely watched but felt a rush of euphoria in witnessing her commands followed. The classics always suited her better, so there was a slight creeping of a smile as she watched the Z-95D Headhunters and X-Wings emerge first, followed shortly by the Y-wing bombers. Each complimented the other in one way or another. She preferred to see this type of symbiosis of action.

As she awaited whether or not the opposing commander would speak to her, she paused for consideration of just what to do next. Jadwiga leaned toward another one of the junior staff to act on a strange feeling she was getting, "Mobilize the F-29 Fortresses. I want to send a message. Engage their support ships to try and open the pathway so that our bombers can make runs on the engines of their capital vessels. Disabled ships make easier targets. Signal the Headhunters to run escort formations on the Y-Wings and the X-Wings to screen for the F-29's. Redirect power to our forward and starboard shields and try to present a tough pivot in the middle of the fleet here. Prepare the flak cannons for close engagement and keep ourselves ready to block for smaller ships. We are going to use our bulk and defense to create a rotation area that our peers can use to reposition should they require it. Keep our communications open to the rest of the Alliance fleet. I might be the commodore of this ship but I am not the highest ranking officer here."

Jadwiga paced around the map. Things were in place now, actions were being taken, and even though she was new to this scale of command, she was not going to run away from the challenge.

ANV Wildfire
Shields 100/100
Hull 100/100
Z-95D Headhunters 120/120
X-Wings 120/120
Y-Wing 60/60
F-29 Fortress Bomber 20/20

 

[Calix of Thyrsus]

I L U M
Equipment: Armor | Lightsaber | Blaster
Allies: Julius Sedaire
Opposing: The Empire | Castor E-196

The blue blade twirled in the youth's hand.

His heart was racing. White puffs of warm air appeared in front of his face, as his excited breathing was made manifest. The thrill of battle stirred his Echani blood, while the weight of the armor the boy wore supplied a certain kind of comfort. This was what it meant to be Thyrsian.

"We'll have better, but more challenging, fighting the closer to that convoy we get," the Corellian master noted, his words prompting the boy to stop scanning for his next opponent.

Their fight had been short and bloody. A sound strategy for a first strike.

Unlikely a strategy that they could maintain indefinitely.

"Tell me, why is it key that such a small but elite pair of teams as we command keep the enemy unbalanced and misdirected, given our superiority in gear and arguably in skill, my Padawan?"

An excellent question. Were Calix in command of the operation, not one he would have considered. A straight fight was his preferred tactic. If they had a superior force, then engaging the Imperials directly seemed the most direct means of ending the conflict.

Frowning, the afro-headed youth tried to mull the question over in his mind. His master was not Echani, but neither was he stupid. When they had first met, Calix had sensed the old master was far more capable than he let on. Now he was seeing that unfold in the icy trenches.

Still, Calix was better at hitting things with lightsabers than he was at thinking. Small strikes, hitting at the flank. Like a.... like a suckerpunch!

Wait, was that right? "It's hard to defend against a suckerpunch, Master?" the boy opined aloud, his silvery-blue eyes glancing over at the Corellian.

Yes, it was a question.

No, he wasn't certain.

 

[Iseri Tanaka]

SITE THETA GEHEIM
ISB Supervision of Evacuation
Operative: Field Agent Iseri Tanaka

Allies: Sharad Dhavale
Opponents: Justice Lesan Lyann Nadnia

It was a mesmerizing sight, that was to be sure. So why was it that it left a bitter taste in the mouth all the same? Those were the thoughts drifting through Iseri’s mind as, just as every other eye of every trooper's attention was, directed to the gullet of flame erupting from the demolished entrance of the relic of a temple.

What fully enraptured him however was the sight of those monoliths of stone, their foundations crumbling beneath the force of Imperial explosives, toppling to the ground to explode in a cloud of dust, not but rubble left of the former sculptures.

What was it about this moment that struck such a cord with an agent of the Imperial Security Bureau? It should have been jubilance, at such a display of Imperial power against their bitter rivals and their zealots. Yet, deep down, biting even deeper than the cold that penetrated the layers of borrowed plastoid armor and clothing, was the knife of dread that so nimbly found its mark in the pit of his stomach.

This Cold War, as seemed, was heating up.

“Let’s get out of here, come on!” The backhanded slap against the arm from the trooper to his flank, the both of them sitting atop identical speedier bikes, was what shook Iseri back to the present. The convoy was moving,the sight of the afterburners of speeders and tanks illuminating an unmistakable trail for those in the rearguard to follow. As it so happened, Iseri was in the REAR of the rearguard. Either the most dangerous, or perhaps the safest, place to be, depending on if their way were to be impeded.

Yet why was Iseri, an agent of the ISB taking upon the persona of a trooper, freezing his bantha off at the risk of both life and limb? The Bureau often saw to it that their personnel enjoyed the relative comfort of not being target practice for any waiting sharpshooter with a blaster rifle. They were too…’valuable’, to not enjoy the comfort of a cozy swat inside a speeder behind blaster proof glass.

Why, it was at Iseri’s insistence of course. Subtlety, even against their own compatriots came with the territory. For all intents and purposes Iseri had decided to keep his presence to an absolute minimum for the duration of this assignment, which was to survey the response of the brass and rank and file alike for their conduct in the pursuit of their own objectives. What better a way was there to blend in than to, truly, appear one of the rank and file?

“Yer right, let’s get out of this refrigerator.” Iseri called back, kicking the speeder bike into ignition and fell back into position, hovering around the furthest back speeder in the column, ready for…well, whatever awaited them.

 

[Cale Gunderson]

Objective I
Allies: GA, Aleksandr Stirsea
Enemies: Faceless Imps until suitable dance partner presents themselves.
_________________________________________________________​

This was not how this was supposed to have gone. He wasn't supposed to be on the battlefield, and if he was, he was meant to be over it, snug in a cockpit with Aleks on his wing, not standing at his side. Yet, there they were. Aleks refused to stay at the rear this time, not again, not ever again, and he was getting too old for Cale to stop him, now he just had to stand with him, and lead.

Still, as much as he'd wanted to avoid a place at the head of a platoon, it still felt right.

"Keep tight and watch your sectors, don't give them time to think!" Cale's lightsaber thrummed in his hand, his knuckles white around it as he twisted to and from, batting back streaks of crimson across the distance between him and the enemy. He breathed heat into the bitter cold and found his center, war was no stranger, as much as he pretended it was. The force called and he answered, Cale's mind was called to a single point, one it knew before he did.

Heavy weapon emplacement.

Cale reached out and yanked the troopers to his right into the snow just as a torrent of blasterfire cut through the air where they stood, then honed in on him. The blue of his blade danced against the rush of red. Each blast came in stronger than the last, and as he called on the all surrounding energy of the force to parry away each blow, he knew the truth of the matter, they were getting him to stay exposed, that way they could cut him down in the ice. It was a good plan, one that would've worked in most scenarios, but Cale wasn't alone, and the bold Imperials were seconds from death.

"Any fething time now kid!"

 

[FN-999]

Overall Theme

908th Legion - 38th Flametrooper Company​

Manpower: 92/100
Orders: Cook padawans Secure the tunnels, assist Imperial Knights
Allies: Empire | Aoki-Barran Mira | Castor E-196 | Hal Vaiken | Kriegan Tavlar | Margo Liaeris | Nuruodo'kal'brast | Zoraya Ives-Ayres
Enemies: GA | Aaran Tafo | Amani Serys | Ariana du Couteau | Corin Trenor | Ichika Masudo
Engaging: Zeke Dystra & co. | Open to small groups

“What if we turned this hallowed mine into a trench?”

“If the Alliance jumps the blockade, they’re landing right on top of us, idiot.”​

“Jeez, I don’t mean that seriously. I’m just trying to pass time. We’re in the middle of a massive mine on an icy world carrying around flamethrowers the size of our arms while on patrol duty. Unless a Jedi pops up around the corner, we have nothing better to do.”

“Fine, I suppose you’re right. So, how do you think we could make a trench out of this mine?”

A pair of privates walked near the front of a large column of flametroopers, consisting in all of twenty rows of five. The company had been marching for over an hour, and so such conversation was necessary to keep themselves alert. Otherwise, their focus began to fade inside their oddly comfortable armor.

At first, the flametrooper armor of the 908th Legion’s specialist pyros had seemed an ill fit for an icy world. However, underneath the flame armor of each trooper was a thin coat, augmenting their armor to provide the necessary cold protection. Furthermore, the extended canister for the Purge flamethrowers built into the flametrooper armor provided nearly twenty minutes of constant fire, giving them a huge offensive boost. Consequently, boredom outstripped temperature as a concern for the squad.

Near the center of the formation, Lieutenant Colonel FN-999 assessed the situation.

The company was in the process of a long sweep through every outlying maintenance tunnel of the kyber mines, ensuring that no saboteurs or special forces had breached the area. So far, there had been no notable encounters in their patrol zone, and they were nearing the end of their sweep.

Secretly, FN-999 was relieved that there had been no hostile contact.

The kyber mining operation was both extensive and delicate, and a single act of destruction could be enough to render parts of the mine completely inoperable. The collection of kyber crystals was especially essential due to the nature of the secret weapons project currently in progress. Even more ambitious than the superweapon deployed by the flagship of the current Imperial blockade fleet in orbit, the top-secret project could give the Empire the possibility of reasserting galactic heregomy for the first time in eight centuries. Despite his initial objections, he had come to respect the Imperial top brass’s decision to begin construction on the project. Still, he understood that it could very easily go wrong. A setback on Ilum might delay its completion by months, if not years. Among the 908th, FN-999 alone was burdened with such knowledge.

“Entering Tunnel A-23.” called a lieutenant near the front rows.

“Understood.” replied FN-999.

Here, the hall widened slightly before opening into a vast steel bridge crossing the seemingly bottomless chasm of the mine. Another hall continued at the other end, about one hundred meters away. A stream of sunlight shot down from the cloudy sky above, while a light sprinkling of snowflakes covered the steel in a thin layer of snow and ice.

Immediately, FN-999 was on edge.

The space was far too large and open for his liking. If anyone or anything came above, there was almost no chance of stopping its descent. A sniper could strike from almost any angle and then disappear into the fog of the snow, destroying the chain of command. A powerful Jedi could send hordes of stormtroopers over the guard rails and into the chasm below, never to return. It could just be his excessive paranoia acting up, but FN-999 was now far from the calm he had just minutes earlier.

[On guard.] ordered FN-999 to the entire company via his comms. [Clear the bridge as quickly as possible.]

Each trooper raised their flamethrower, spreading out from their previous formation to avoid burning their allies. At the same time, they accelerated into a power walk, the tension rising and chatter ceasing as the flametroopers rushed across the bridge.

About halfway down, FN-999’s worst fears were confirmed.

Several flametroopers suddenly fell over dead or wounded, plasma bolts rocketing towards their bodies.

[Hostiles, we’ve got hostiles!] yelled FN-999. [All friendly units, this is FN-999. Hostile raid on the bridge by Hall A-23. Requesting assistance!]

Dozens of flamethrowers came to life, giving the battlefield an orange hue as the company collectively moved to identify the location of its assailants.

FN-999 pulled out his carbine and aimed, desperately searching for a target down the view of his iron sight.

908th Legion - 4th Flametrooper Battalion​

Manpower: 1442/1500
Orders: Secure the mountain pass
Allies: Empire | Aschwin Vethres | Hall Mannarra | Orik Dakari | Saul Vandron | Wolfram Triko
Enemies: GA | Bernard | Ishida Ashina | Dagon Kaze | Mylo Thorne | Shar Sieu | Kelly T. Perris | Sara Roche | Rakaan Horne
Engaging: Sara Roche & co. | Open

EASTERN KYBER MOUNTAINS - PASS OF THE PALADINS

For what seemed like the hundredth time this week, the 908th Legion built a trench.
​

Under the command of Colonel Silvertongue, a close companion to Lieutenant Colonel FN-999, the battalion had moved out from a deployment zone in a small plateau in the middle of the mountains, beginning a short but arduous climb to entrench themselves in a key pass.

Known as the Pass of the Paladins, the pass was roughly a kilometer wide and a kilometer shorter than the surrounding peaks, whose towering masses loomed above on all sides. On one end, the elevation of the mountains dropped off considerably, the path descending down to approach the cave networks in which the kyber mines resided. On the other end of the pass, a glacial trail created a winding road through the Eastern Kyber Mountains, whose jagged peaks were spread out over dozens of kilometers before merging with its western counterpart. Already, a considerable Imperial force was being mobilized near the Western Kyber Mountain passes. However, at the moment, only the 908th Legion defended the east. Unless forces were reallocated from other regions of the planet, they would likely stand alone against a numerically superior foe.

And so, the 908th Legion built a trench.

It was a slow and monotonous process, made especially laborious by the permafrost barely a meter below the ground. Eventually, many troopers resorted to firing their flamethrowers directly into exposed pockets of permafrost, melting large chunks of it at the cost of their ammunition.

Ultimately, the ground proved no match for the 908th, and as they had on almost every other planet they had fought on, a trench was built.

Unlike the rowdy Galdranni generals, the 908th prioritized a culture of efficiency and order above all else. There was little redundant chatter and no distractions as they cleared out the gunk from their flamethrowers, preparing for the assault headed their way.

Surely enough, the Alliance's army arrived in droves. From atop their fortified pass, the 908th's losses were relatively light. Still, limited by the range of their flamethrowers and their secondary firearms, the battle was quite literally a firery affair.