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

[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 ; Gabriel Pryce
Equipment:
Addlehorn Armor
Aschwin Curved Lightsaber
Post Number:
Ten

"Oh? and what right does the jedi have to this world." Aschwin said in response to the boy's suggestion that this world belonged only to the New Jedi Order and by extension the Galactic Alliance instead of all force users. He could tell that Gabriel Pryce had recovered some of his energy enough to hold his own against his fencing strikes designed simply to toy with him. The curved lightsaber was the perfect weapon against those who had not fought against it. Allowing him to change the momentum of his strike with a simple and slight turn of his wrist. Bypassing the defensive guard of his opponent before they could even think. The curved handle also allowed him to keep a firm grip on the blade to avoid being disarmed in a fight.

His blade flew over the padawan and into the rock which caused a large slash to appear and small fragments to fall out. He moved his left hand from the blade and force grabbed the small fragments of rock; hurling them forward at the padawan with a simple hand gesture. Moving back into position to engage him once again in a lightsaber duel. "If you deny it, you are a fool. Why do you think they sent you here to engage me without a master's support. Clearly you are no longer of any use to them. Just another headache for the master's to deal with." Aschwin said with a harsh and mocking tone towards him.

"Now you will die down here along with your pathetic friend who couldn't beat a blind bantha in combat."

Aschwin further added insult to injury for the poor Varen Ardos who was out of commission currently.

He kept up his assault on the padawan's blade; swinging with more force behind his blows than normal to put him and keep him on the defensive. His curved blade went down to strike at the padawan's legs to slice them off apparently in a feint attack; but a swift turn of his wrist brought the blade into the interior of his lightsaber to slice at the hilt of his opponent's lightsaber to destroy it in one fell swoop. Moving the blade away from the prior attack to attack head on once again using his fencing style to finally end him.

​

 

[Aleksandr Stirsea]

Tags:
Old Man: Cale Gunderson
The Enemy: Sylus (Γ059)​

Sylus dodged Aleks' first wild swings, moving under his guard. When the dust cleared and Aleks readied his defence, Sylus moved in immediately, vibroknuckles at the ready. Enhanced speed powered his strikes and kicks, looking to sweep Aleks off his feet while his knuckles struck forward in rapid jabs, aiming for vital areas. Stepping into his guard, the Jedi would have trouble turning his blade inwards, unless he kept moving, which suited Sylus just fine as it allowed them to move into areas with untouched debris and improvised weapons.

Aleksandr had fought men like this before. The kind that smothered you with their presence, laid into you with relentless fervor. If you allowed them to crush you, to swallow you up and dominate you, then your end was a sure one. Fortunately this was not Aleks' first time doing this.

To his opponent's credit, this strategy took some adjusting to counter. On his back foot there was little the Jedi Knight could do but keep himself from falling victim to Sylus' vicious jabs. His room was limited, maneuverability strained. It took every ounce of effort in him to keep up his constant deflections, along with the accompanying footwork. Eventually, it was too much for his defense. A speedy punch caught him off guard, jamming into his liver and causing the wind to disperse from his lungs. It felt like fire. He wanted to double over to catch his breath, but there wasn't any time, not while the enemy was still pressing him.

"I don't think you know what kind of Jedi I am." Aleks choked out in ragged syllables. This man had clearly fought Jedi before, but his idea of the noble, upstanding warrior was flawed. Some Jedi were raised by the street, the sons of gunslingers and soldiers. Some Jedi had known hunger before they had ever known the Force. Some Jedi cared more about winning than about honor.

Aleks was that kind of Jedi.

In the span of a moment he deactivated his saber and pocketed it in his winter cloak. Then, he used Sylus' forward momentum against him. His constant advancement meant he was susceptible to being pulled. So Aleks swung his leg forward to get his heel hooked around the Imperial, then pulled with all his weight, hoping to dump Sylus on his ass.

 

[IVI]

THE DIRECTOR IN THE ERA OF RECLAMATION
CORUSCANT | SENATE DISTRIC | SENATE INTELLIGENCE BRIEFING ROOM

Displeasure’s glare flashed to the late arrival of the recently promoted DipServ officer. Tardiness was always unacceptable in The Director’s eyes — especially in a profession that boiled down to timing. Timing, timing, timing.

At least he had something to say, and didn’t slink into the shadows hoping to go unnoticed. She didn’t nod, however. Simply listened.

To Auteme however, the Director reacted. M’s lipline twitched to make the corners sharper, deeper. The only evidence of pure glee she felt stir within. Dirt digging on Imperials was a welcome order. They were a careful sort, but petty, and gruesome. The reports from the former rebel cells had declared there were public executions — that was certainly enough to shine a light on their regime.

"Of course, Chancellor. At once."

Her first reaction as a countermeasure to The Imperials was to blast into Bastion. That, of course, was foolhardy. The second alternative was sticking up their proverbial nose and ignoring them. Defeating them on Ilum, and not dignifying their atrocious aggression with a response. Some other methods of chokehold and exposure would be better merited.

She nodded once to the request to collect the leaders of Night Hammer, Azure Hammer, and Steel Blade. With a practiced gesture, outgoing calls would queue up. She looked to Ben, as part of Diplomatic Services, he could help triage the responses and ensure the connections manifested.

The outgoing calls added to the lights in high Command. It was lit like a theatre — dim and warm with the tactical display of a multinetworked holographic output.

“He cannot be fully present. Vice Chancellor Pryce is indisposed. En Route to Ilum’s system.” If M had emotions, her voice may have wavered. Anything that had to do with children always put her a little more on edge. “Reports indicate his son is a part of the Padawan group trapped within the caverns.”

Blue light glowed from her datapad, and she immediately projected the contents to the screen in the room, for all to see.

“A live update.” The Director explained. The tightness in her throat was the memory of Csilla. The destruction of her home.

Seconds stretched into minutes, and the display came alive with a short burst. A line of destruction that shot straight to the planet.

She frowned. She had studied the weapon that had destroyed Csilla, and the firepower that was reported from this weapon was threatening similarity. She wanted the response to be immediate — but it had previously scorched through the fleet. There were few left to create a throb of salvo to burden the weapon's existence.

The Galactic Alliance was turning out to be the only super power in the galaxy without a Supeweapon of their own.

M would have to see that changed.

“The Orbital weapon appears to have fired for a second time. Reports indicate that this,” she pointed to the amorphously shaped blue glow at the bottom of the screen. “Is the planet’s life force responding defensively.”

---

ALLIES | GA | Auteme | Forlan Norsama | Ronval Rubat | Ben Thano

 

[Iris Arani]

Iris blinked open her eyes for a moment. Surprised, at first. Then relief. Just overwhelming relief. For just a moment, anyway. As the weight lifted around them, Iris reached up with her. With Domxite. Together the three could push the chunks of Imperial machinery and earth aside, enough for the Padawan to crawl her way out. She dragged herself through the snow, laughing her relief in the process.

For just a moment, she was happy to not be buried.

"Amani..? Amani! I- The others!"

She was already scrambling to her feet, scanning around for the other two. The Imperial. No, wait, the others. "I- Ah fuck! We were just supposed to figure out a problem, not get dragged into a war zone!"

Amani Serys

 

[Driver]

Ilum
Allies: Tiric Sar'andor, Dominik Borra , Cordé Sabo
Enemies: Marcad ​

Driver didn't have much time to react to Cordé slipping into the ice. Before he could rush in to aid the fallen medic, a man bearing a purple blade had approached them.

"Imperial Knight, you are under arrest by order of the Galactic Alliance! If you do not comply, we will make you comply. And if you struggle further, we will use deadly force and leave you for the ice!"

"I suggest you listen to my friend here," Driver added, preparing his vambrance. "You don't want this."

Driver began to mentally take notes of how many thermal detonators he had on him. Unfortunately, they would have to be a last resort this time around given their orders to bring in any imperial knights warm. The clone didn't like it, but orders were orders. They hadn't encountered much in the way of targets so far, so the least they could do was secure one.

 

[Koda Fett]

​

THE RECKONING, ILUM SYSTEM

His armoured flame flailed in the air as a result of the Force-related detonation, or some variation of it. It was the Force, far be it from the Mandalorian to determine the exact details of it all - least not with one Jedi held onto and another on a collision course towards. Of all the variables to consider, the Force continued to prove itself mysterious and difficult to overcome, save for the tech that serves to nullify it completely. A kind he was rapidly running out of since Tython, with limited access to the arsenal of the once Dark Lord of the Sith.

So be it, he would make do.

Fett spun wildly, even after some brief stabilisation, and letting loose Arenais. Sent to careen off wherever that may be, into a wall or a TIE. Hardly mattered to him, long as the two were no longer connected. He barreled through Lesan and crashed into the wall of the hangar, an effort to whip the Jedi Master off of him before the saber could connect with his jetpack.

The hairs on the nape of his neck on the rise with the low thrum of the blade behind him.

Varm Nul
Caedyn Arenais Judah Lesan Caltin Vanagor

 

[Sylus (Γ059)]

█████ - Rama-Actual
IMPERIAL SECURITY BUREAU
TASK FORCE ████
Kyber Mountains, Ilum
TAGS: Cale Gunderson Aleksandr Stirsea Kai Bamarri
Equipment: 2x REC-VKN/01 "Tekko" - Pattern Vibroknuckler, 2x BH-Specter Slicer Vibroknife, 1x Hekler'Kok Survival Machete, 1x Sonic Detonator, 1x CK-60 01x Disruptor Carbine, 1x LS-1 Angry Owl Light Sniper Rifle, Hellion-class Commando Armour Mk I

CompForce: 44/80

Under the force of Cale Gunderson 's counter-assault, even the CompForce troopers had to retreat. They moved back, regrouping back towards Sylus, firing at their Alliance pursuers as they went. They had contained this Jedi as long as they could; now they had to relent and delay. Several troopers took the ultimate sacrifice, physically trying to hold the Jedi down together through literal weight while their comrades retreated, exchanging deadly blaster shots with the few Alliance soldiers still active.

The stunning of the trooper, while successful, seemed to sap the last of Kai’s strength. The boy slumped, falling face down in the snow, unconscious and blissfully unaware of the battle still raging around him.

Kai was saved from an ignominious execution; the troopers were more focussed on halting Cale's counter-attack, which was now beginning to reach them, as well as giving scattered fire against Aleksandr.

"I don't think you know what kind of Jedi I am."

Sylus continued his assault, keeping on his toes. He followed up his assault, risking an overextension by keeping his inertia up.

In the span of a moment he deactivated his saber and pocketed it in his winter cloak. Then, he used Sylus' forward momentum against him. His constant advancement meant he was susceptible to being pulled. So Aleks swung his leg forward to get his heel hooked around the Imperial, then pulled with all his weight, hoping to dump Sylus on his ass.

Sylus almost saw the technique coming, but this time he flat out missed the counter. He reared back, but Aleksandr's leg hooked his. He grunted, his reflexes and body straining to counter the Jedi's technique. He tilted forward, and kicked the hooked leg sideways, trying to gain control of the leg lock; this was only partially successful, and he fell forward instead. He let loose with a wide swing as he rolled past Aleksandr, hoping to get one more good strike in.

Sylus returned to his feet several metres away from Aleksandr, spotting Kai's unconscious body but also the retreat of his troopers towards him. Time seemed to slow as he weighed his options; it was unlikely they would successfully neutralise all three Jedi. A shame, but Sylus knew he had to maintain focus on objective and attempt permanent neutralisation.

He drew his carbine and fired.

 

[Ichika Masudo]

♪ In the Void - Final Light ♪​

ALLIES: Ariana du Couteau
OPPOSITION: Kriegan Tavlar
EQUIPMENT: 1 x Songsteel Katana | 1 x Songsteel Wakizashi | 1 x Practise Lightsaber | 2 x Climbing Picks

Almosts - the journey of a warrior of the blade in a fight was full of these, and though the unforgiving edge of her blade made its mark, it was robbed of the chance at utterly carving into Tavlar the moment he took hold on her one wrist, the extension of his arm imprisoning her in the moment by the difference of their height, the toes of her boots grazing the cavern floor in a sway mismatched to the song of the ice and rock.

But the moment didn’t last, much like the fresh bloom of fear that sandwiched itself into the helpless seconds she was held aloft, before the tool of the Empyrean gathered a reciprocal knee into her own unarmoured body, the layers she wore against the cold barely cushioning the impact to her gut, an impact that twisted the cool tears of hope on her cheeks into something hotter; her eyes stung and squeezed shut as she gritted her teeth and swallowed a yelp of pain, and when she opened them again to a view that was so very close, her gut and wrist throbbing while her feet found more purchase on the floor… were this another time, another place, a different situation, the proximity might have been inappropriate, but such dignities fell away in the context of now.

As did the fear, leaving by-products in its wake: the anger of wounded pride, underlined by embarrassment that darkened the pink of her cheeks. She was not unassailable. Her simmering cerulean returned his steady gaze, finding the eyes that spoke of the youthful hatred which scraped against her freshly incensed and empathic mind to be nothing more than a common link. A link unbroken when her free hand shot over his, grasping and restraining the knife hand with a vise-grip, fingers curling with a strength beyond what muscle could manage alone, but the prospect of any damage was brought to a momentary pause solely by discipline… even with the short blade pressed into her layers, disconcertingly close to its goal. Scant shallow breaths filled the space of the impasse.

“I would have your name, seeing as we’ve dispensed with any propriety or pretense,” quick, short words delivered with vitriolic heat, her eyes unwavering. It was only proper. Others might say this wasn’t the time nor the place. That said, she began to tighten her force-fuelled grip to the point of crushing, scowling in the delivery of her next demand - “Now unhand me.”

​

 

[Korvan Toldreyn]

​

Valery Noble Dagon Kaze | Rakaan Horne Sahar​

Rakaan's words were a dagger in his ribs. Yet, they were an entirely different sort of pain when the boy spoke this time. His old student had spoken with such vitriol before, such hate - it had all been a guise, anger that had lingered, that had once been directed inward now forcing its way out in a calculated and deliberate attempt to keep him affixed where he was. It was all an elaborate attempt to keep Rakaan bound by his own mind, by the will of the Empire's indoctrination that had captivated him.

Now, he had heard for the first time a voice that seemed wholly familiar. He did not hear what the Empire had made of his pupil, what his anger had done to him. He heard the frightened boy, the one who he had failed. Rakaan was resigned, convinced he could do no more, that there was no turning back from all that had happened, from all that he had done. He was scared, he was in pain - Korvan could all but feel it.

The Jedi Master was thankful for Valery's arrival, for her own words - he felt himself all but frozen by the pain with which Rakaan was speaking. How much was there that he should have done, could have done, and didn't? He had failed once, and what had happened to Rakaan because of it? How much pain had been borne from his own inability to protect and help his student as he had promised to? Valery stepped away, shifting off down a tunnel of her own to search for Rakaan further - and he was alone once more, sucking in a slow breath as he continued on.

His steps were heavy, as if weighed down by the very stars themselves with each trudging step through the caverns of ice. The voice of his old student echoed across the walls once more, and as Korvan stepped around a corner, he saw Rakaan - really saw him. The Jedi master still held his weapon, the blue blade humming in the air. There was a moment of silence, a quiet hesitance in his eyes, in his breath.

He stepped slowly towards Rakaan, he gave no response to the boy's words. What could he say? What could he have possibly said?

Another step, and another, and another - carrying him closer to the form of the Imperial Knight with his blade held in his hand still. It wasn't until he neared him, only a few feet away, that his blade deactivated, his saber fell to the ground, and Korvan's arms wrapped tight around his old student, his friend, his son.

A pained sob escaped Korvan, and the Jedi Master could not have considered for a moment any threat or risk that came with his actions. All he could feel was agony so great, so severe in its festering that had bubbled to the surface. He drew Rakaan in as close as he could, fingers clutching to robes and armour as if he could not dare to release him.

"I have missed you."​

​

 

[Dagon Kaze]

Valery Noble Korvan Toldreyn
Sahar Rakaan Horne
​

There's a thin line between love and hate. Just a few small tears between someone happy and one sad. As nascent as their relationship had been before their paths diverged, it had been forged in tribulations of fire and death. To hear her call it a distraction bit at the Jedi's heart like a poisonous sting. He ignored her blame and her threats, they felt hollow -- tactics to rattle the Knight, tactics that he'd learned to protect himself from over the course of his life as a Jedi.

Tactics befitting a Sith.

"I waited so long for this, to remove your filth from the world of the living, you'll join them in death, Dagon. I'll see to it myself if it means ripping the Jedi order apart to see you breathe your last."

"You will try." he cooly retorted.

Pain reverberated through Dagon's body as his blade met Sahar's onslaught. His moves were slower, plagued by aches that would've otherwise killed a man, and he knew time was running out for him.

He had to finish this quick.

"I seem to recall you enjoying the distraction." a shit-eating smirk pulled his lips before her sabaton slammed against his chest sending him staggering back and shoving all the air from his lungs. He violently coughed blood, struggling to get his breathing stable. "You could've been better than this, Sahar." Dagon said wiping crimson from his lips. The clock ticked and he rushed into the offensive. Every joint and every tendon screeched in agony as the Jedi double down on the acrobatics of Ataru. Deceptive feints and quick swings from all possible angles showered the Imperial before their blades and eyes locked into an intimate clinch. ​

 

[Rakaan Horne]

HALLOWED SCAR, ILLUM:-
Sahar | Korvan Toldreyn Valery Noble Dagon Kaze

In the coldest caverns embedded into a frozen, desolate ice wasteland, there was not a warmer embrace to be found. Like a vice, the arms of his once-master threatened to squeeze the life out of him but neither had Rakaan cared as his own arms dared to do the same. Lost in cloaks and robes, in the fabric of all that made them, them. He could breathe once more as muted sobs fell into his shoulder and tears welled in his own eyes, all with a heartfelt and relief-filled smile that had once seemed so foreign to the man that Korvan had created.

"And I, you." He croaked through the fading ache.

Yet their reunion was to be cut short. Rakaan could feel it, this wound, this echo in the Force. It cried out to him, beckoned him closer. Focused lines creased across his forehead and forced his eyes to narrow over the shoulder of his former master. His arms loosened and hands rested over his shoulders instead, "There's something I must do, first."

He separated, the cold air flooded back to him. Like a wave, it washed over Rakaan. Some form of stark reminder of the truth, of the reality in which the two had both escaped from for a few brief moments. His back turned to Korvan and Rakaan fell into a short run, aimed for what was outside. Pain, suffering. Preventable, as it was. The same complex that found him here drove him out there, ever the fool to rush headlong.

Rakaan stopped and turned over his shoulder with an all too familiar smirk, "I'll come back. I promise."

Then he was gone. Back out into the battlefield that raged on.

 

[Hal Vaiken]

IMPERIAL SPECIAL FORCES
SCAR SQUADRON
Lily Stevens Margo Liaeris Castor E-196 Katja Javik Kriegan Tavlar
ENGAGING: Jand Talo Corin Trenor Iris Arani

​

"Ugh!" Sarge spat as the Nagai lashed out with his blade, slicing upwards through the trooper's chest plate leaving a thin scar running from the torso all the way up to his cheek. The soldier staggered back, one hand wildly shifting over the carved chest plate seeking to keep the bleeding at bay. The pale padawan's slash had cut open the sergeant's guard leaving him wide open for the other Jedi to deliver the payload with a powerful punch.

The momentum of the strike flung Sarge away into a gruesome tumble through rocks and glacier until he disappeared into a pit.

A sole hand grasped at the pit's edge, holding for dear life as the sensation of the rest of his body gradually disappeared.

Climb back, but every muscle of the veteran's body remained deaf to his orders. ​

 

[Corin Trenor]

HUBRIS OF EMPIRES
Iris Arani Jand Talo Hal Vaiken

The Padawan rolled forwards from the momentum of his strike, struck across the stone and snow. He climbed to his own feet from his knees once more, all with an immeasurable ache that failed to compare to much else that Corin had endured. Even the sensation of thunderbolts across his nervous system from the since slain Sith'ari was brief and allowed him to recover. Yet now with the taste of iron in his mouth and fractured bones, adrenaline was all that enabled the Jedi to push on.

To move forwards.

He stumbled forwards, closer to where the Imperial was with eyes settled over him. His life, left in the balance. To see him there, it was an experience. Even in triumph, it was not one Corin could call his own. Independent to a fault, the Padawan was often loathesome of the need to rely on another. Often more an obstacle than an ally, but not now. If not for Jand, Corin was convinced he lost that battle. His intervention allowed Corin to muster his resolve and continue forwards, to allow him to land that one final strike.

Even if wordless in the moment, there was never a more present idea in his mind.

But there was one that tied for focus. Jand offered him a breather and a chance to collect himself, but those efforts that called on him in the Force had sparked that need to push forwards. It calmed his mind, it imbued his body with strength, as if a continuation of the punch Corin had thrown into the stormtrooper. Left unaware that it was Iris, in the moment, it was time to offer thanks should the often isolated teen discover that.

Corin stared down for a second, a moment of hesitation. For a moment, his boot pleaded for the chance to stomp out the rest of those strained fingers. Kick the Imperial off into the abyss, let him die, let him rot. But like an alarm in his ear, Dagon's voice called out. As if he was there, beside him. It was not the Jedi way, not our way, not his way. Not my way. "Come on," Corin waved over Jand before he reached for the arm of the stormtrooper and made every effort to lift him up.

"We have to help him."

 

[Shai Maji]

ILUM | TELLAN LAKE
ALLIES: Enclave | GA
ENEMIES: The Empire
ENGAGING: DECEASED Erskine Barran
GEAR: In bio | Basilisk War Droid | shield

TRAUST​

What nagged in the back of her mind was Michael’s lack of emotion. Whatever seemed to possess him was beyond their galaxy. No sith or Jedi could reach this kind of peak, not without some seriously bad decisions. But the longer she watched him, the more he seemed to be impressed for some reason. She wanted to keep Erskine safe, some twisted kind of protective instinct over his corpse. But she already committed, now it was time to step back and leave Erskine to this being.

'First, he arises in a haze.... Then I bring his agony - and I need you ready for his agony.'
'First, he arises in a haze.... Then I bring his agony - and I need you ready for his agony.'

'Your fire is your salvation - but agony heals, so do not DARE interfere.... He must suffer to live again.'
'Your fire is your salvation - but agony heals, so do not DARE interfere.... He must suffer to live again.'

She didn’t even have time to process what the being said before he was mere inches from her face. In the blink of an eye her vambrace was pressed against his jaw as she glared at him, fearless as she stared into the eyes of an entity beyond her comprehension. Light began to pulse from the tattoos along his arm as he glared into her soul for what seemed like an eternity.

She was interfering with something far from her control.

The vambrace lowered and Shai scooted out from underneath the Woad, gently resting him in the snow as she watched the being literally work his magic. At first she thought it was her imagination, but with the second beat of his heart she knew that it was no trick. His eyes fluttered open for only a brief second as the being brought life back into him.

And then he began to groan. Shai was on him in the blink of an eye, holding him down with inhuman strength as he tried to claw and writhe around in the bloodied snow. She wasn’t sure how long that went on, listening to him scream in agony as the wound she inflicted started to glow. But eventually it subsided and Erskine relaxed. He laid back, with a faint heartbeat and a gentle face, like a bad nightmare passed. Her hand reached out to check for a pulse, a final reassurance despite the heartbeat she heard in his chest. Shai sniffed and wiped at her eyes, a huge relief washing over her.

She had failed her mission. She was supposed to cut off the head of the snake. Perhaps she was too weak. Too spineless to take this life after the thousands of bodies she left in her destructive wake. That was fine with her. A revelation dawned on her as she stared down at him. This was selfish. If her people didn’t want her anymore, if the Alliance wanted to brand her a war criminal and a terrorist…

So be it.

THE MARK HAS BEEN MADE​

She looked back at the druid with a renewed determination as he picked up his mask. Erskine would live. That was all she cared about. Her gaze returned to Erskine as he laid in the snow.

It was time to go.

She patted him down until she found his commlink and brought it to her lips.

:: This is Wardog. I need an immediate emergency evacuation on Erskine’s position. ::

She pinged the location to whoever was on the channel, but as she continued to stare at him, she needed to add more. They needed to understand the gravity of the situation.

:: And one more thing. A warning to his officers, his superiors, the ISB listening to this channel, everyone. If he gets in the turret of a tank, if he is allowed into a command tent, if he is allowed to even look at a map… I’ll karkin’ butcher every single person in this legion, this kriffin’ army… I’ll kill you all. ::

The snarl on her face subsided as she laid the commlink on his chest along with his sword, before she holstered her pistol and picked up her helmet. ”Stay out of trouble, Erskine.” She muttered as she slid her helmet on, before she took off into the air.

She had been through enough on this frozen rock.

/Exit Thread

 

[Jand Talo]

HUBRIS OF EMPIRES
Equipment

The slash from Jand connected, as it cut a mono-molecular slash up the trooper's armor, sparks flying as the blade sung.

Jand gritted his teeth, as he watched his opponent stumble backward, and prepared to move in should it be needed - but Corin was there, his timing accurate and his punch even more so. The resounding smack was almost felt as much as it was heard, and the Imperial was sent toppling across the unsteady and cracked rock, and over the edge of a pit.

"Good. A solid strike."

From where the effects of the tech-glove had left him, Jand took that moment to prod at his shoulder, though the touch resulted in a jolt of pain through his left arm. It was likely broken. Still, the fight wasn't done, the trooper had been knocked aside, not killed. The pale Padawan stood and looked toward Corin.

Corin seemed to be positioned above - what appeared to be - grasping gloved fingers, on the edge.

The trooper had managed to maintain grip.

With a grunt, Jand stood, and listened as Corin said they needed to help the Imperial up, the latter offering a wave for assistance. The Nagai began to walk that way, toward the dark hole the trooper found himself dangling in, and regarded his fellow Padawan...

"No," Jand said, his dark eyes narrowed, as he dismissed Corin's words. "The Imperial dies."

Jand went to close the distance, as he lifted his longsword and prepared for a slash across the trooper's fingers...

Allies: Corin Trenor | Iris Arani
Engaging: Hal Vaiken​

 

[Hal Vaiken]

IMPERIAL SPECIAL FORCES
SCAR SQUADRON
Lily Stevens Margo Liaeris Castor E-196 Kriegan Tavlar Katja Javik
ENGAGING: Jand Talo Corin Trenor Iris Arani

Death of the Celts​

Bloodied digits slipped away, forfeiting the soldier's life, before a foreign hand wrapped around his own. Dead legs lazily dangled in the void that awaited the stormtrooper below. A plunge to certain death.

He blinked against the sweat and blood matting his eyes and looked at the raven-haired boy without a single hint of emotion. An Imperial does or dies, there was no in-between when it came to serving the Empire.

"No," Jand said, his dark eyes narrowed, as he dismissed Corin's words. "The Imperial dies."

Sarge barely heard the Nagai's words. An executioner's will. A half-groan, half-chuckle escaped the battered soldier's lips: "There's a hundred thousand Imperials... out there to replace me... I am expendable... but your Jedi girl... irreplaceable." blood veiled the soldier's grin.

His other hand twitched to heed the stormtrooper's last command.

A stiletto materialized in its grasp. Simple and raw. Just as his life had been.

He stabbed the raven-haired boy's hand.

"Long live the Empire."
​

Released from the Jedi's grasp, Sarge fell into the black void below. ​

 

[Corin Trenor]

HUBRIS OF EMPIRES
Iris Arani Jand Talo Hal Vaiken

Help.

It was hard to come by. Sometimes even harder to offer out, let alone to that of a foe. It was often that Corin let himself feed on that embittered poison in his mind, in his soul, the type born on the streets of Denon and allowed to fester in a war and surrounded by others considered superior to yourself. Of better morals, of better nature, of a kinder soul. Nature and nurture, as it were; some more succeptible than others, Corin was too stubborn to allow himself to learn. Too stuck in his ways, no matter how callous and cruel those methods sometimes were. But there was one voice, one person, the kind that never surrendered Corin to his own self-determined fate - certain the Padawan could be better, learn to be better. Fixed up.

Kaze never quit. Unyielding. Good to be found in everyone. It drove Corin to the ledge, it urged Corin to reach out with his own hands, demanded that Corin allow what little energy the Padawan had left to be thrown into saving a man that tried to kill him and his peers for no reason other than that this was a man, someone alive, and all life was precious. It all deserved to be saved, even as hint of regret voiced itself in the pit of his stomach.

"Jand, no!" Corin called with Dagon's words, and weary eyes reared over his shoulder. Unfocused on the soldier, on the threat, the one that Corin made every effort to pry from an all too fatal fall. He settled his vision on Jand, left in a stare, even as the Imperial allowed his final words to be uttered - the mention of a murdered Iris ate at him, reaffirmed the instinctive first thoughts that came to him mere moments ago, yet those thoughts were not what Dagon envisioned for him. Even if for a fraction of a second, the Padawan wished to let him fall. "It's not our way."

He pleaded once more in the words of another, only ever half-convinced that Corin believed in them. The effort alone, it said something. He told himself that much, at least.

But for all his efforts to halt Jand and aid the stormtrooper, Corin was burned for it; stabbed for it. His attention was stolen by the sharp and sudden sting that seemed to have taken all control from his own hand - a knife embedded in it, from one side to the other, the muscles twitched in inaction as crimson leaked from other side across his hand and down onto the snow. His other hand, once on the Imperial, rushed across to his wrist as Corin could do little else than mutter incoherent and violent words at his own hand behind gritted teeth. His eyes settled over his attacker's as those last few words made themselves known, sung out into the silent cave, all before the man slipped into the blood black nothingness.

Corin keeled over, slumped over onto his back. He felt the cold touch of the snow and ice, how it felt across his torn clothes, seeped into the fabric, into the holes and across his broken flesh, into the cuts, across the bruises, impacted on the broken bones. He was not cold, there was no cold to be felt. Not as his body burned, and leaked.

"You fought well," Corin muttered with exhaustion, even as those final few intended acts came at a cost. He understood it too well, maybe that's what ensured Corin felt no bitter fury towards the other Padawan. Or maybe he was simply tired, too tired. "Thank you."

His head rolled over, his sweat-matted brow collected flakes of snow in his hair with his hot breath on the air ahead of him. "You never answered me before." He breathed, afraid of the answer and afraid to ask. "Iris... Is she dead?"

The idea of it. His responsibility, his soldier. His... friend. Dead. Lost. It hurt worse than the thirteen shattered bones that tore across his beaten frame or the knife that breached his hand and severed tendons.

 

[Leto Venau]

Hal Vaiken Lily Stevens Castor E-196 Kriegan Tavlar Katja Javik
​

The crash.

It made a mess, an awful mess. Layers of caverns shattered, what remained of the ice melted from the flames that burned in the wreck, of the thrusters that still idly flared, and the stone found itself less than able to stand against the sheer mass of the collision. SCAR battled the Jedi children, scattered into their own segregated sections and closed-in battlefields. Some may have had reservations about the idea, to find a child on the battlefield and commit themselves to a skirmish. Not Leto, not the rest of SCAR either. In the bottom levels, in the pits, he stalked them like an animal in his onyx armour.

In the end, Leto earned scorched stained scuffs across his armour as well as a blaster severed in two. But his blade was still bloodied, he had his scalps.

The stormtrooper roamed the endless black nothingness of the caverns underneath Ilum, underneath the mine and all. A familiar beacon flared, alarmed the shadowy soldier of distress, the flash of red provided light from the white armoured gauntlet of Hal. Leto tilted his helmeted head as he examined the sprawled out sergeant.

"Come on, Sarge." He lowered himself to a knee and lifted his superior up and over his shoulder, "Let's get you fixed up."

His idle hand reached to the side of his helmet, :: Spectre. Sarge is down. Enroute to you. ::

 

[Saul Vandron]

F I S T _ O F _ T H E _ E M P I R E
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION
HUBRIS OF EMPIRES
BLACK ICE
Kragr Krayt Wolfram Triko

If I had a Heart​

The eerie steps of the steel titan grew louder and louder as the behemoth approached the warrior's position. Each step -- like the tick of a clock's hand counting down Saul's life. The taunts of the soldier piloting the siegebreaker fell on deaf ears, ignored by the general, as he reluctantly plucked for the last remaining orb hanging from his utility belt. A powerful gravity charge that could splatter everything in the surrounding area into a mere puddle of blood, steel, and bones.

A dead man's weapon.

A coward's death.

The gates to the halls where his Amaxine brethren drank and feasted -- forever shut.

Saul clenched teeth and fists in anger before discarding the charge away with a furious yell.

The bastard's life was not worth it.

He shredded the anti-tank rifle away and drew the songsteel sword.

If he was to die, then it would be with blade in hand.

The general climbed up over the trench facing the iron colossus spewing ominous streams of fire from its armored limb. A lone warrior standing tall against a titan of war. Saul Ironside, Fist of the Empire -- defiant until his very last breath.

And then fire engulfed the icy landscape, torching everything in sight. White-hot flames danced across the general's visor as a wicked smirk tugged at his lips. For a moment, the satisfied smirk abated as it seemed the titan remained unfazed until it suddenly collapsed on its knees. Silence reigned across the battlefield, drowning the rampage of combat as if the air itself held its breath in anticipation.

A loud hiss broke the unsettling quiteness, followed by the clang of the siegebreaker's dome opening to reveal the man that had tamed such beast of war and Saul's eyes widened behind the scorched half-black, half-orange helmet.

Few things could surprise the veteran of a thousand wars.

"Ha!" the bewilderment lasted for only so long before Saul's whole body began to rattle and shake.

​

"A Mandalorian?!?... How.. the mighty... have fallen..." Saul shook his head in disbelief. "To have spilled Imperial blood in the liberation of your worlds... to witness this?" tsk, tsk, tsk. "I know some of your people... Men that marched in the ranks of the Empire against the Sith -- Trajan Kurze, Kestus Bralor, Amon Vizsla, Koda Fett and many more..."

He pointed his blade at the Mandalorian, steel heavy with blame. "Where were you when these men bled for your ilk?" ​

 

[Amani Serys]

Objective II
Allies: Iris Arani
Equipment: In bio + EMP grenade

Amani had hardly even registered the result of her efforts at first, too focused on not slipping up right until the padawan's voice hit her ears. "Iris!" She beamed at the sound, immediately letting the rubble drop to pull the girl in close, "Holy shit. Don't- Don't ever scare me like that again." She said, unable to help a few tired laughs despite it all.

"I know. I'm sorry-" As if it were her fault to begin with. Amani bit her lip in worry, giving the surrounding area a scan of her own. "We're getting out of here. Can you show me where they are?"