Invasion In The Undertow // NIO Invasion of TSE Held Jaemus and Dubrillion

[Thaelius]

Location // HMIS Chimera, DSV, Dubrillon //
Objective // It's a Trap! //
Allied Tags // Aerarii Tithe Lily Kuhn | TSE Fleeters //
Enemy Tags: Marlon Sularen Hiram Voss Tyrell Paxxus //

"Admiral, one of our Engines has been critically hit. It remains operative however it has taken in quite a bit of structural damage"

A Commander briefed Thaelius rather quickly on the stats of the engine, however that didn't concern him as much as his crew thought he would. Instead he began to bark orders once again, redeploying his formations more effectively to fight off against the various debris which separated his force and Marlon Sularens force.

Then he saw an opening. Something that he would be able to effectivly cripple the New Imperial War Effort, regardless of win or loss. "Redirect Intercessor Group. I want them to fire thier Power Crystal Cannon at that specific debris. Only one of them. The other is to target that piece"

The Chiss was very unorthodox when it came to eliminating his enemies, and this action was no different. "Fire" He ordered. He watched quietly as the two beams sliced into Debris, but they splintered off into various other beams, smashing and obliterating an entire part of the Debris Zone, leaving Sularen no projectiles to throw at Battlegroup Mith'ra'nurodo of War Fleet Black Iron.

But that was only the beginning, as the Intercessor then turned to face the now defenseless Imperial Fleet, firing thier Orbital Autocannons at the Praefect Class Star Destroyer.

Largely ignored, the Twin Autarch Class Siege Battlecruisers would begin assaulting the twin Endurance Class Fleet Carriers of thier enemy. The Arbiter Class Heavy Battlecruisers would bring it's 4 Proton Beam Cannons and all of it's Mass Driver Cannons to bear on the Predator

[See First Post for Links]

 

[Lunafreya Solidor]

O B J E C T I V E | Storm Surge
L O C A T I O N | Hoth Beach
T A G S Lark |

Spoiler: nio tags

Agrippa
Ravraa Vyshraal
Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt
Lucien Dooku
Salvor Thul
Spencer Varanin
Aerith Castiella
Ra Vizsla
Strain
Warchief Waddles
Junda
Grigory Tallis
Zsuzsa
Vilaz Munin
Warchief Waddles

T H E M E | Here.
G E A R |Armor, Gloves, Scythe,
Sword, Necklace, Lightsabers, Pistol.​

What a dreadful idea it was to rush into the front all alone. Her soldiers were probably still behind trying to climb the beach, and she was there, alone and sliding through the sand much like a hourglass. Was it just her she could move without any issues, but with her scythe, her beautiful Auksifas, it was impossible for her to swing like she was used to. She tried jumping and almost slid over the sand due to the size of her weapon, running was even worse since all those grains of sand were lifted from the ground, annoying her to the point she couldn’t move the scythe except for limited movements. ‘Damned be this beach…’, she thought to herself as her foot sank inside the sand once again, and when she raised her head to gaze upon the way in front of her, her violet eyes, sharp as they ever were noticed a glowing dark red light coming straight to her. ​

Out of survival instinct, she swirled the golden weapon in her hands and left her blade turned, just enough to absorb the full impact of the blow. Hers was the most famous singer blade in the galaxy, and certainly one of the most hungry, Auksifas drank energy as she drank water (if she drank the appropriate amount instead of alcohol), calling inside her by the name of her weapon, Lunafreya he watched silently as the blade's runes gleamed at the threat coming his way and just widened his eyes as his fingers closed more tightly around his golden hilt as the weapon trembled around his fingers with the impact of the energy launched against him she.​

For a moment, she had doubts as to whether she was really going to absorb all that energy, even when they both fell back on impact, as if pushed hard to fall on the sand. Lunafreya fell on her own ass, still holding the scythe as she rushed to get back on her feet quickly. Growling like a angry rancor, the elzeri woman she smiled irritably, but at the same time every hair on the back of her neck was raised, bristling like hay. The violet eyes immediately found the source from which that blow had come, their two orbs shone with the true hell within them, to the point that if it were possible for that energy to surface, it would surely melt durasteel. In her fingers, the scythe felt warm. ​

"Yourrr Grrrace, I'm coming to yourrr position immediately.", She heard Diabolico snarling in his big pointed ear inside the helmet. Followed by a series of hisses and growls between him and Palescales, as if they were arguing about it.​

"Enough, pawns. I do not need your assistance, Diabolico, for I am capable by myself to crush this insect in front of me.", She didn't even bother to hear the answer given by her subordinates before acting. Lunafreya adored Siths, always so full of hatred and belief in the dark, like dogs blind with rage overtaken by a flawed creed made by tantruming children. His right hand slid to his own waist, closing his fingers around the handle of his pistol, lifting Arrax like lightning. The feet began the long but fast journey, moving across the sand as it ran upward, in firm, sure steps across the sliding floor.​

Three times her finger squeezed the trigger, three times the gun's cannon drummed the music of the fire. Letting the orange balls of scorching magma shine like fireflies across the night sky, their splashes tracing the paths they came from with little sparks. The feet continued to move fast until they found their support to jump in the air, using the fallen carcass of one of the dead Sith soldiers to make the leap, swirling and rolling in the sky as it launched itself like a bullet towards the enemy, at a sufficient distance so that she was far enough away where she could swing the scythe with the force of her hands against the enemy in a clean, lethal move from her right to left. ​

The huge reptilian of dark scales rose on tiptoe and roared. A roar so sinister that it was sure to put the hair on the back of the neck of any sentient flesh-bag in its path. He did it for pleasure, always before a diabolico fight he marked himself with a symbol of his people meaning war, he did it with human blood. For him to raise the strength of his indestructible resolve in the fury necessary to kill all those who dared to stand in his way.​

"Lord-Commander are we moving up the beach now?", One of the troopers asked behind his back, with his arm still raised in front of him. Diabolico snarled at him, a snarl of scorn and pure sarcasm, as he raised the plasma rifle faithfully trapped between the claws of his right hand. When he turned around, meeting his maddened look made the soldier shake his knees so that he almost made him laugh, but he just whispered in a deliciously sinister way.​

"Move along, maggots ... now."​

And as if ordered by the lord of the seventh hell in person, the soldiers began to walk in the direction that rose above the beach. He himself began to move beside them, walking as he tipped his scaly head towards Morticon, hissing at him in that horrifying reptilian language they spoke to each other. Until the huge Saurton howled at his side, and even without understanding what it meant, his howls caused the soldiers around him to stop walking to start trotting, otherwise some even started running.​

"Forrr death and forrr glorrry, aye? All right... Now let's kill something fleshy.", He whispered and those who accompanied him, those cruel lizards, started laughing next to Diabolico. Himself lifting the gun from his fingers and starting to run even faster, to quench his anger and hunger.​

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

​

// Hellhound-Actual // 307th Legion //
// Objective II : Storm Surge : HOTH
// ALLIES : Irveric Tavlar Agrippa Lucien Dooku Strain Del Lovruc Nima Appw'rii
// ENEMY : OPEN / TSE Forces
// Gear : Armor - Hand Of God - Melee - Rifle - Side Arm - 'Void' Grenades - 'Null' Grenades - Light Saber - Gunship
// Thematic : Elective Amnesia

​

Lyra rolled from her side staring up at the night sky, her hand falling down the stock of her rifle as she checked it over; it wasn't snapped in half atleast. A cough bubbled from her chest, her ribs were bruised and she shifted-her armor digging in. The pain flitted along her joints but Lyra steeled herself. The HUD filing through a diminishing list at the corner of the screen, tracking the few of the squad left. A cluster of blue dots left along the stretch of trench, tracked by the map. All along the front line they had taken heavy hits from the S-IMP fortifications, their numbers waning.

Picking herself up from the bodies in the trench was far more difficult then it ought to have been, she was dishonoring their remains but as blaster fire still hissed overhead-there was little else to go. Her boots slid under her, slick from the gore left upon their blast plate. Throwing her hands out, Lyra steadied herself as her mind began to reel. The sand was still hot to the touch, the burning smell could not be filtered out by the ventilators and Lyra forced herself to breath through her mouth. Refusing to linger on the dead.

<"LYRA!">

Grimacing from behind the helmet, hearing her name alone was uncharacteristic- @Irveric voice live over the audio receptors. Her lip curling as she let out a hot breath of air, she knew that tone. The battle distanced and Lyra opened her mouth, scathing words resting on the tip of her tongue as she imagined the man on the other end. Realistically she could count on one hand how many times she imagined retiring..walking away from the field. None of them had ended with a child.

A child, cursing under her breath a crippling shadow of fear loomed over her.

There was no likelihood of that, and she licked her lips, one hand fell from the stock of the rifle to her gut one last time. After everything that had led them here, what kind of..Scraping her servo of the layer of tenebrae between her, she couldn’t place any stock on a flicker of life.. But he couldn’t have this either.. Maker she was scared..Eyes narrowing-raising a hand to shield herself as sand poured in from the ledge. The Troopers left along the line were holding up, blaster fire echoing from the trench line.

It was a fool’s hope really. Nothing would stop him if..

<<”I’m fine! Fine! Just..an artillery shot..Irveric. Armors landing, three o’ seven is preparing to charge-”>> Lyra bit out, patience waning as she answered Irveric Tavlar . Her chest was burning as she caught her breath, it felt the better part of a lie but she was stacking her guard. <<”Hellhound out.”>>

"This is Siege Tower. Fire mission to Sith fortifications 524m from your position is underway. Target is danger close. I repeat, target is danger close. Keep your heads down." he said before giving the gunner officer the thumbs up.

She cut the communications instantly as the Beachmaster came through, static filling the channel as she adjusted the link. Her gauntlet sliding down to the interface on her vambrace; overriding the stimulate injection. The needle pierced her neck and she inhaled deeply, counting the seconds silently. Her thoughts wandered back to the runner..her intuition told her nothing good would come of it.

"Blades out, Myrmidons! We're hittin' their back-lines! Kill everything wearing black and clear the way for the 307th-- NOW!"

<<”Watch your head Lucien Dooku ! Cliffsides getting lit up!”>> Lyra warned the bull headed man, as the communications began to bleed together over the audio and with her back to the shallow wall-she tilted her helm up to stare into the dark.

While the Myrmidons stirred up the S-IMP lines the bombardment that rained down from the skies was deafening, the green glow lighting up the horizon. She hooked one gauntlet at the top of the shelf, holding herself up to watch the explosions demolish the fortifications dotting the cliff side. Good riddance. The HUD flickering from the sudden influx of light and Lyra slid back down. They could make the push now, and her heart thrummed in her chest.

<<”Archer-actual, report!”>> Lyra demanded, feeling the onset of adrenaline as she glanced down the rows of helmets she slowly came across. Picking her way through the remains of the hollowed out line. Slinging her rifle over her shoulder, the blaster snapping against her back. Raising a bloody gauntlet, she slapped the shoulders of the troopers she passed, halting as she reached down to haul the soldier to his feet. <”Up! All of you! On me! You-on me! What squad are you, how many of you are left?”>

<”Jenth Company ma’am, from the two o’ first. You got..eight of us.”> one of the braver of their lot answered without hesitation. Stepping out into her path, they were all a little singed but walking..She could feel the blood pounding against her temples and Lyra craned her head, checked over the smoked helms in tow. It would have to do.

<<”Bronco has landed with the tank teams, I have the companies from Vindicated forming up on the Turbos now. Marking out their paths now, check your map-we’re ready to charge on your command. The small cataphract team is moving north to bypass the trench lines.”>> Daival answered, the A.I adjusting the map at his words. The cluster of their forces at their rear swelling on the cerulean screen.

<<”Archer begin the approach, AT-AT squad and supporting teams move in. Take the ridge and set up forward positions, we’ll regroup with you after,”>> she signaled. There was a lull before the roar of engines drew closure, in the wake of the aerial bombardment the resistance was dampened on the front but that wouldn't stop more S-IMP forces from mobilizing. The team of tanks stirred up a storm of their own, well out of their path-Lyra tracked their approach from the shore line across the screen. Her thoughts set on the cliff side and what lay past it, it was just time to get it over with.

<”Alright Jenth boys, get your rifles ready and fix bayonets. stand by for charge,”> Lyra said, offering them a curt nod as she produced her own blade off her belt. Lyra could turn and send them over now, and retreat to the command post..but the reality was Lyra would not tuck tail. The chin of her helmet dropped, hitting her blast plate..There was a shuffle and several clicks as the troopers prepared their own weapons, whispering among themselves. Giving the stock one firm smack, she caught the reflection of her armor on the blade and a heavy exhale escaped her.

<”Steady boys.”>

With flare and rifle in hand Lyra caught one foot on the wall of the trench. The boys around her lacked the finesse of the Genny boys but mirrored her actions, glancing down to her. She was high upon the adrenaline, the rush clouding gher judgment. Switching channel links and opening the comms to the 173rd and Lucien Dooku . The comm line blinked several times before she spoke sternly, <<”All troopers on the line, fix bayonets and prepare for the charge. Do not enter the Turbo path. Signal flare. Artillery teams and heavy repeaters provide cover fire on my mark!”>>

Each movement was harried by doubt and Lyra numbed herself to the realities as she retrieved the flare shot. The tanks passed over the lines through the gaps of the broken generators, eating up the beach. The heavier vehicle squads advancing and Lyra held the signal gun aloft, firing off the flare. A hissing filled the air as it burned through the sky like a falling star, a bright light amidst the haze-spitting and crackling before slowly arcing down in decent. She’d make a shavit mother if she really thought about it but her eyes burned nonetheless, and Lyra blinked several times ferociously. Tears slipping down her cheeks, pooling at her chin.

The troopers around her lurched forward and Lyra followed on instinct as they scrambled up and out into no man’s land. Staggering out on a few unsteady steps, the woman hauled her rifle up in her arms-bringing the sights up alongside the handful of soldiers. Her grip creaking the metal stock as she tightened her grip-clinging to it for life. Lyra sprinted out across into the night, shouting out to the soldiers-urging them all on. A pained..mournful noise building in her throat. Red bolts whizzing past them as they chased after the tracks of the tanks, sand cast in the air on impact as enemy repeater fire opened up across the lines. The trenches glowing red and the heat kissing the air around them. Mortars popping off, peppering the beach-shaking the ground under their boots as they pushed forward blindly. Nothing behind her mattered, a roar raising over the field as the Legion of the 307th charged the lines.

 

[Bernard]

​

Dubrillion,
Byss Landing Site
Actors: Bastard , Rurik Fel , Heca Foliou
Act II: Caught in Absurdity

On a cool, clear night (typical to southern Dubrillion), the rustle of sand streaming off his jacket accompanied Bernard as he heaved himself off the ground, head still spinning. Balance nearly deserted him, but he settled against a wall to keep upright. A dull ache coursed through his body, none of his limbs seemed to be broken, however. He sighed, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness.​

The gunship had made it to the beach in its final moments. Laser fire continued to shriek ferociously just beyond its metal shell. The sand had spilt in from a gruesome opening across the starboard side, settling to cover most of the passenger bay, filling it just shy of Bernard's feet. At either edge of the mound, a few seats still poked out, upside down and empty. The ship had flipped on its back before it embedded itself in the dunes, then. No sign of its occupants, either, save for one trooper who lay almost entirely covered by sand, only his helmet and shoulders left unburied two rows to Bernard's side.​

There was no life in the soldier left within the weave of the Force. Dismay came to him, but he sighed it away, too aware there was little he could have done. The battle outside still raged, there'd be a difference to be made beyond the metal cage of the gunship's wreckage. A groan escaped him as he pushed off the wall to stumble up the sandy hill.​

Red lights flashed into the passenger bay through the wound in its hull as bolts whizzed by, some far, some close. Explosions rocked the ground, sending delicate ripples of sand rustling down the slope through his fingers and around his boots as he clambered his way up. The opening at its summit was too narrow to crawl through, and the ship had buried itself too deep to shovel the sand away. Through the opening where the metal had been rent apart, he could spot several humanoid shapes half-buried far off in the distance. A trench-line, as it turned out when a white light lit up the figures within. It belonged to the sabre of an Imperial Knight whose armour glinted in that brilliant glow. It flickered in and out of sight as the warrior descended upon the legionnaires.​

Cue enough for Bernard to take action himself. He was behind enemy lines, but allies were close-by. It would be cowardly to await rescue. A Jedi forged his own path in accordance with the Force. His lightsabre detached from its maglock with a click and, with a snap, it came to life. He plunged the blade into the ship's hull, the sparks bright enough to force a squint.​

The hull offered some resistance, the smell of ozone hanging heavy in the air by the time the cut had concluded. With one vigorous push through the Force, the metal dislodged and dropped outward with a quiet spray of sand that stirred around its frame. Bernard didn't move out quite yet, wary of charging headlong into battle nonetheless. His suspicions confirmed themselves when the crest of the hill exploded in a flash of red. ​

Adrenaline rushed through Bernard as he recoiled, loosing his precarious footing, and he slid several paces down. He extinguished the sabre and made himself flat against the dune.​

The entrance was pelted with blaster fire, each bolt leaving behind a scorched stain of glass in the sand. A few whizzed past his head, bouncing against the far side of the passenger bay, while others still crashed against the exterior hull with loud clangs.​

By the time it stopped a thin layer of sand had settled on his back, chilly even through his jacket. Most of it shook off as he pulled himself towards the opening, still prone.​

The sand near the crest was still hot when his hand came down on it, but he ignored the pain. His lower half rose as he drew his legs beneath his torso and assumed solid footing, taking up a ready position similar to that of a Galactic Games sprinter.​

He really wasn't sure how good of an idea this was going to be, but there were never any certainties in times of war. The Force surged through him, mixing with adrenaline, and a dash of bravado. Then he pushed himself up, through the opening and several metres in the air in a blur of speed. His sabre came to life, and he began to soak in the battlefield.​

The Force had guided him well. Just ahead he made out a small squad of Sith troopers, caught in surprise by the sudden movement that burst from the dead gunship. Bernard came down in the sand behind one, plunging his sabre back before the trooper could even turn and quickly transitioning the motion to slice along the chest of another. Sparks burst from the man's armour and illuminated the dark as the cyan blade hummed, waiting hungrily for another trooper to feed it.​

 

[Nima Appw'rii]

​

// Genesis-Two // Genesis Rangers
// Objective II = Storm Surge : HOTH
// ALLIES = Agrippa Irveric Tavlar Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Lucien Dooku Ravraa Vyshraal
// ENEMY = OPEN / TSE Forces
// Gear = Armor - Main Hands - Melee - 'Null' Grenades

​

<<”Blondie really? That's the best you got? Don’t start thinking you can tell me what do with that tone Agrippa,”>> Nima snorted over the line, a hair of worry dogging her down as sweat beaded down her forehead. Hearing the man before she got a sight through the bleak conditions on the line. The woman weaved through the lines of troopers packed in the trenches. The platoon lagging behind as sand rained in on them, setting a steady pace-jogging through stray blast and scattering repeater shots.

The woman mindfully watched her head, they couldn’t afford to lose a head here. Slapping a gauntlet on her pauldron, she brushed off the debris. Slowing as the trench grew more chaotic, fallen beams and..Appw’rii looked away as the casualties kept mounting. Catching her breath from a hard run that had spat them out here in the thick of it.

It wasn’t looking good topside, and the woman was glad to be stuffed between layers of blast plate and body weave. She was frowning, chewing on her lip when the bloody man of the hour himself emerged from the throes. They were running straight into a wall and the woman was half nerves. Taking one look over him-she knew he had gotten the brunt, the idiot..The blacken marks on his armor..Gladius always did, and it was time they ease that burden. Catching the flight of orders over the comms, Nima sighed with mute relief taking a few steps further to clap his arm when he stood before her.

Maybe a few more of them would make it out unscathed, they had come this far after all.

<<”There’s our favorite ugly mug..You got the entirety of Evil Eyes and Bird Dog Platoon beside you,”>> Nima assured, rolling her shoulders as she considered the horizon going up in green fire from the turbo lazers. Craning her helmet to glance back at the rangers in tow as Agrippa’s orders rung out over the comm links, Nima gestured to the lot of Genesis, <<”you heard the man! Fix bayonets! File down the line and prepare to ascend!”>>

Half them would've never guessed they would end up in the thick of it, sleuthing..thats what they did and the woman watched as the platoons unsheathed their blades-fixing them. Holstering her own pistol, she caught Agrippa’s last glance and watched on amidst his valiance. Crouching down, the woman claimed a rifle from those who had died too soon. She reached around the body of the trooper, taking the blade and fixing the weapon up. Slapping the powercell back in to place, the woman fell in line as her fingers drummed down the stock of the blaster-waiting for the call.

 

[Ellie Mors]

​

Location: Dunes of Byss Beachhead
Objective: Live a little longer
Allies: The Sith Empire
Enemies: New Imperial Order | Spencer Varanin
Equipment: Two Shoto Sabers
Theme: Deep Six

The walking corpse of a woman said nothing as she slowed, eventually coming to a halt to listen to her adversary speak - her bright orange eyes, like burning coals, unblinking as she stood unmoving. She could feel, without effort, the excitement in the eyes behind the woman's eyes, feel the pity in her heart as she looking into Alekto through the force. The words she spoke were lost on the Sith Lord, she had long since lost her ability to comprehend sound, the only noise she could hear was the ringing that had filled her ears when the burning heat of atmospheric reentry over Borosk had consumed her. Even as the woman opposite her pulled in on the force with a concerted effort, darkness pooling in the force - invisible to the naked eye - Alekto remained steadfast, unwavering.

Even as the spears of midnight black pierced the air and were flung as javelins towards her she was unfazed - unafraid.

Tendrils of black, visible even to the naked eye, emerged from her body as wisps of nothingness, as if all color had been drained from the world in the way of a formless cloud of smoke that rolled off of her. She did not move as they rolled off of her and lashed out against the objects unseen, spears that could be observed as long javelins of black through force-enhanced sight, the smoke-like tendrils consumed all that they touched and condemned these projectiles to a doom she desired to submit both herself and her foe to.

Annihilation.

Forwards she stepped, slowly picking up the pace until she was at a sprint, saber shoto held in each hand, their crimsons blades ablaze like two small pillars of burning light. Fire danced at her feet, conjured as the oxygen in the air excited and burst - combusting along the sand, leaving a trail of glass-like footprints in the sand in her wake. The force enhanced her speed, her reflexes, as she leaped towards her foe, her mouth welded shut, and forced combat upon her foe through an entrance in Ataru combined with the relentless, unrefined, ferocity of Juyo.

 

[Marlon Sularen]

Location | Borosk
Objective | Battle of the Shipwrecks
Focus | Thaelius | Hiram Voss | Jalter Volff

Spoiler: Wraith Squadron

• Agitator-Class Super Heavy Battlecarrier [x1] | Moderate Damage to the Shields
• Phaetra-Class Fleet Carrier [x1]
• Praefect-Class Star Destroyer [x1] | Light Damage to the Shields
• Endurance-II Class Pocket Carrier [x2] | Moderate Damage to the Shields
• Inceptus-Class Assault Ship [x2]
• Intercessor-Class Star Destroyer [x2]
• Starfighter/Bomber Compliment
  • Tie Drones [40 Squadrons | 960 Total]
  • Tie Outlanders [20 Squadrons | 320 Total]
  • Tie Slashers [10 Squadrons | 120 Total]
  • Tie Vanguards [5 Squadrons | 40 Total ]
  • Tie Bruisers [15 Squadrons | 120 Total ]
  • Tie Maulers [ 10 Squadrons | 80 Total ]

"Sir Thaelius Ordo's Fleet is almost in range of the Fleet"

"Good" Marlon replied. "Activate all Tractor Beams and pull all the Debris around Wraith Squadron to form a defensive barrier." Marlon ordered. Soon enough the Tractor Beams of every vessel in Wraith Squadron started pulling the Debris towards the front of the Fleet beginning to establish a defensive barrier. But then suddenly the Intercessors of Thaelius fired their Kyber Canons at one of the debris splintering off into smaller beams and taking out a significant amount of debris that was infront of Wraith Squadron.

Nevertheless that did nothing to prevent Wraith Squadron from completing it's objective as soon enough a barrier of debris though weaker then anticipated covered the front of the Fleet shielding it as Thaelius Ordo made his move. As he attacked , only 25% of the firepower Thaelius Ordo unleashed reached their targets lightly damaging Wraith Squadron who was nevertheless still in a fighting position.

Once Thaelius Ordo unleashed his first volley of fire against Wraith Squadron , Marlon gave the order. "All Ships advance towards Thaelius Ordo's Fleet prepare to throw those debris at his Fleet." Marlon ordered. Soon enough Wraith Squadron advanced towards Thaelius Ordo's Fleet moving the Debris Barrier forwards as they moved closer and closer to Thaelius Ordo's Forces. Then Marlon gave the signal and massive chunks of debris were thrown at the Vessels of Thaelius Ordo's Fleet primarily Ordo's Flagship and the Seige Battlecruiser in which Marlon had identified as the biggest threats to Wraith Squadron.

As the Debris sped towards Thaelius Ordo's Fleet , Marlon had all of his Fighter and Bomber Squadrons deployed and had them closely follow the Debris utilizing the debris to shield their approach towards Thaelius Ordo's Fleet. Once the Debris hit Thaelius Ordo's Fleet the Bombers unleashed their payload against Thaelius Ordo's Flagship and the Seige Battlecruisers in which was followed by all vessels within Wraith Squadron unleashing their might against Thaelius Ordo's Forces by firing every weapon on the Sith-Imperial Fleet primarily targeting Ordo's Flagship and the Seige Battlecruisers.

Hopefully this would be a deathblow for Thaelius Ordo's Fleet as Marlon expected such an attack to deal heavy damage to Thaelius Ordo's Flagship and his accompanying Seige Battlecruisers. However at this point , Marlon had allowed his Fleet to be vulnerable to further attacks from Thaelius Ordo but that did not matter , by then Thaelius Ordo's Fleet would have suffered more damage then Sularen's own Fleet giving him an advantage. Nevertheless this was a Battle to the Last Vessel as Wraith Squadron wasn't going to give Thaelius an easy fight. Here on Dubrillion , Marlon would use all means necessary to defeat Thaelius Ordo's Fleet no matter the cost.

Spoiler: Fleet Actions

• Wraith Squadron utilizes their Tractor Beams to move the Debris infront of the Fleet and create a defensive barrier that absorbs much of Thaelius Ordo's initial attack despite Thaelius Ordo's attempt to deprive Wraith Squadron from the debris.
• Wraith Squadron then proceeds to yeet the Debris towards Thaelius Ordo's Fleet deploying their fighters and Bombers who remain closely behind the Debris as they speed towards Ordo's Fleet
• Once the Debris hit Thaelius Ordo's Fleet [Primarily targeting his Flagship and the Seige Battlecruisers] the Fighters and Bombers unleash their full payload against Thaelius Ordo's Fleet [Again targeting the Flagship and Seige Battlecruisers]
• Wraith Squadron finally proceeds to fire every single weapon at their disposal against Thaelius Ordo's Fleet.

 

[Ra Vizsla]

COMMANDER VIZSLA

// IRON_FURNACE // IN SUPPORT OF // NIO DROP
// GARRISON //: Mandalorian | 403rd Stormtrooper Battalion
// OBJECTIVE //: HOTH Beach
// ALLIES | NIO | SONS OF MANDALORE | Warchief Waddles | GA
// ENEMIES | TSE

Ra didn't pause to look back as the Mandalorian Supercommandos were being hammered.

Artillery shot after artillery shot.

Fire after fire.

The Sith were certainly putting up a show.

But Ra had orders from Imperial High Command. The Imperator himself. "Take the plateau." No amount of deaths would prevent him from achieving this objective. Vizslas did not fail. At least this one did not. After an insurmountable show of force, after suffering blow after blow, they had reached the base of the plateau.

To reach the artillery positions would be absolute asinine. An atrocious affair to be sure.

Unless...

"Phoenix time, ladies." Ra growled to the 403rd Stormtrooper Legion.

Jetpacks.

Of course they all had Jetpacks.

They followed a Mandalorian.

Ra rocketed up the base of plateau, much to the chagrin of those waiting up top, and from his back sparked a red fiery comet that immediately struck the emplacements, showering the field in red and white chaos. He landed on his feet, upright, pushing forward through the smoke as it wrapped around his body.

Always forward.

"Dismantle the guns," Ra called out on comms.

 

[Stilicho Drumarch]

Objective: Take down the snipers
Allies: NIO // Open
Enemies: TSE // Ruek Tast ​

"...stay with the vanguard soldier, getting back here would be a death sentence, and I don't need anymore dead men." Salvor closed the comm channel with Lyssman, who remained pinned down as the 501st began their assault against the fortifications. Feth, he thought as more and more suits of red armour began to pile in the shallow waters around the gunship. The vanguard had begun their charge, and the Mandalorians continued to give as much hell back to the Imperials as they received. The Archon couldn't wait around much longer for his allies to be slaughtered, or worse: to claim the glory of victory without him.

Sal grabbed a loosed panel above him and slowly pulled himself to his feet. Bacta was fast acting, as even with a piece of metal embedded in his leg he was able to walk without excruciating pain, though not without difficulty. He looked down at the large crack in the armour plates of his leg, his skin was exposed to the cool tropical breeze. The blood spilled from his wound had been washed away in the cool, dark water and the bacta had sealed the cut. He'd be lucky to receive a minor infection when this was all over. With the amount of dirt and blood in the tide he could easily be looking at something worse.

Sal grabbed his rifle out of the water and shook it as dry as possible. A futile effort. Regardless of the state of his weapon, now was the time to advance. No snipers could focus on a frontal assault by Salvor and his soldiers, not while they had to contend with the Mandos ascending the plateau. Now was the time to divide and conquer.

Patching his comms into the chapter-wide channel, he broadcasted his orders to every soldier left standing under his command.
"Men and women of the 3rd, this is Death Knell Actual! Now is the hour of our victory! Our new objective is to deal with those snipers, get them off our allies! Some of us will fall, but the Empire will not forget our names any time soon!" he yelled into his comms over the intense concert of battle. He could hear the cheers of his comrades over the gunfire. They might not make it out of this, but their goals would be met at any cost.

Salvor rounded the corner of the gunship and jogged to the next piece of cover as fast as his wound would let him. He signaled for his soldiers to follow him into the nearby brush, under the cover of a thick canopy of tropical trees. They rode the thin strip of vegetation, covering themselves from the continued barrage of sniper fire, all the way to the Sith-Imperial fortifications. The terrain began to get steep as they mounted the increasingly large escarpments, which got more and more thick with vegetation as they advanced. Perfect terrain for the enemy snipers. He crouched down low to the bushes and took every step with caution, signalling for his followers to do the same.

As his troopers dispersed as quietly as possible around the area and Sal pushed his way through the bushes, he spotted his first sniper. A woman, it appeared she was wearing extensive camouflage ( Ruek Tast ). Sadly for her, not enough to hide her now that Sal was withing blaster range. He leveled his rifle in silence and pulled the trigger. The weapon gave a hiss and a piercing shriek as it began to steam from its barrel with no blast leaving it. "Damn it." He had certainly alerted the enemy to his position now. He drew the short vibrosword hanging at his side and charged the sniper.

 

[Darth Argentum]

Operation Storm Surge: Hoth Beach
Allies: Ra Vizsla Warchief Waddles Lunafreya Solidor Agrippa Irveric Tavlar Ezra D. Tavlar Salvor Thul NIO & GA
Enemies: TSE, anyone up for a duel?

The Muun scowled as mortar round whistled past his head. He'd taken cover behind the remains of a building when a platoon of Sith legionaries had moved up. There were simply too many of them for him alone. A quick incantation had hidden him as they passed close enough for Maro to touch.

Far too close for comfort. He'd decided battles were a fool's errand. Even if you survived one, it was only a matter of time before an errant blaster bolt or artillery round did you in on another field. Speaking of which, it was time for him to move again.

Moving forward did bring him into the teeth of the enemy. But staying here made it it more likely a stray shell would rip him apart. His mind calculated the probabilities as he darted forward. To the untrained eye he would be a black blur as he called upon the Force to bolster his speed.

Ahead and into the tumult....

 

[Loske Treicolt]

DUBRILLION // BATTLE OF THE SHIPWRECKS // VANGUARD
X-02 // FLIGHT SUIT // FRANK
GA // Maynard Treicolt // Olen Halcorr
NIO // Cheapshot // Jalter Volff // Tyrell Paxxus
TSE // Melia Siari // Nica Dakkar // Aerarii Tithe -- DOGFIGHTING OPPOSITION: OPEN
EYES WITHOUT A FACE
​

​

Their allied Outlander TIEs single-filed into a string of eyeballs, searing through a clear cut pathway in the DSZ. Loske craned her neck inside the cockpit, straining to see the outcome other than blossoms of fire erupting from their targets –– only to be quickly snuffed out and consumed by the vacuum of space.

Admiring their organization, she arched her brows with a short nod to herself within the cockpit. Her contentions with TIEs usually meant they were spiraling and spinning around with superheated maliciousness toward her and her squadron; her chances to appreciate or witness them being effective beyond a dogfight had been limited. When this was over, they’d have to shake hands.

<"If only...">

Maynard’s muttered response etched a smirk on her lips, but it was sacrificed to the necessity of concentration.

<Good work on the defensive line!> She cheered through the comms, the starfighter string defending the TSE fleet rendered incapable rather quickly through the onslaught of NIO and GA’s joint forces. This was the exhilaration she needed after Borosk. To see the effectiveness of talent and teamwork make short work of the fighting.

Back behind the sticks, the adrenaline and fast-pacedness of their environment meant that the troublesome residue of Ryv and Allyson Locke 's disastrous outcomes had to take the backseat.

<"We'll stay back, set the pick and roll for them to move in and take out the gun. This is a green squad, gotta let them build their confidence. Plus...means we get to watch the fireworks.">

While she understood the necessity of the command, she slumped in her seat. She was good at taking out enemy fighters, but being tasked with protecting someone again brought back the residual flicker of the responsibility she'd felt with Ryv's pain on Borosk. She couldn't let her teammates down like that again. At least here she wasn't so effected by mental links between herself and everyone around her. Only with Maynard.

Everyone else was faceless.

The Vanguard team deployed on the CO’s command. Ion bomb after ion bomb closed the distance between the bellies of the X-Wings against the artillery cruiser’s coilgun.

Overseeing the collective of Vanguards, the representatives of Saber Squadron set their sights on the foolhardy pilots screaming in to engage them. The target in her sights was as stable as she could expect in a zone so littered with remnants of two battles afore. Bolts flew from her blaster cannons, the synced fire compounded with the target lock made short work of the incoming attacker. Its shields were penetrated and mercilessly ripped through by the onslaught of plasma. It spun, twisting toward her and out of control before it was fully engulfed in its own explosion. An unfortunate circumstance for its flight partner, who twisted the wrong way and accidentally fatally collided with the screaming trajectory of the incapacitated vessel created. Loske hadn’t been expecting combustion of that magnitude and was still pushing her throttle forward aggressively.

She couldn’t veer her craft in time to avoid passing through the fireball of unknown composition. Despite the commands to shift course, the automatic pressors wouldn’t allow the necessary centrifugal force. Her fighter plunged into the expanding ball of superheated gases.

Then she was through and clear, on the other side. A rapid check of her controls and she relaxed. Passage through the intense head has been insufficient to damage anything vital –– though all four wings bore streaks of black, carbonized testimony to the nearness of her escape. She cussed hotly, scolding herself to remember to bake lead time into her movements; having a distracted mind was no excuse for rookie mistakes.

Surprisingly, Frank reserved any commentary –– only passively-aggressively flashing the temperature reports on the hull in a brief overtake of her targeting view.

Hell flowers bloomed outside her ship as she swung it up and around in a sharp curve, instantly on an advantageous TIE looking to snuff out Vanguard-3. <Vanguard-3, on your return, you’ve picked one up.>

<Where? Three can’t see it in the scope?!> The panic was crisp, cutting through the heaviness of the pilot’s accent.

The greener pilot shot away from the route back to the Sabers, breaking formation and into clear space. Closely followed by the enemy starfighter, The enemy vessel fired steadily at Vanguard-3, each successive bolt seeming to pass a little closer to the X-Wing’s hull.

<It’s tight on three! Three can’t shake it!> Twisting, spinning, the devaronian pilot looped back toward the battle, but the pilot trailing him was persistent and showed no signs of relinquishing pursuit; even through the minefield of debris.

So absorbed in the pursuit, Three didn’t see Loske, who rotated her own ship and dropped in behind him. Electronic crosshairs lined up according to the computer-readout instructions, and she fired repeatedly. A smaller explosion than the one she’d just cut through, but an important one nevertheless ––– especially in Vanguard-3’s eyes.

It sounded like he was panting. The relief so clear that he was no longer faceless to her, she could almost see the soft adjustment of his devil-like features. <Three thanks you, Saber-5.>

She was relieved too. She'd been able to help this time.

<You got it.> She paused for a moment, squinting at her readouts. <Looks like they’re tightening their formation.> Loske announced over the wider communications.

<Good move to make a more effective wedge through the debris.>

<What’s that mean for their shields?>

<Not sure. They could extend the stamina of their defenses if they stay close enough.>

<I guess there’s really only one way to find out.> The XO murmured, a grin manifesting as she felt the shift of intentions from her partner in the cockpit none too far from her. As if privy to the conversation between herself and the astromech onboard her X0-2, Maynard was making the conscious decision to swap to bombs for another run. He announced it shortly thereafter.

<"I'm loading up Shadow in case we're next up.">

She thumbed the weapon swap over her controls, feeling the slight shift beneath her feet with the exchange.

<Copy and done.>

Corvettes emerged from behind the battlecruiser, filing into order and initiating their sweeps in NIO’s direction. Unlike their escorts, they were less concerned with dodging and weaving through the debris in the hot zone, letting the twisted remnants of steel bounce off their shields instead.

<More fighter escorts incoming.> Frank announced.

Around them, tractor beams started to pluck debris from their space. Using one’s environment to advantage in a fight wasn’t unheard of in the realm of sparring, why would it be any different when gravity wasn’t an option?

<Yeah, I think we’re up. > Saber-5 encouraged. <They can’t keep pulling resources out for their support. Vanguard –– you’re on cover duty this time. Those new escorts are yours.>

 

[Ruek Tast]

Allies: TSE | Open
Combatants: NIO | Agrippa | Salvor Thul | Open
​

As quickly as they had struck the snake hunter disappeared amidst the bodies teeming on the shore. Yet still she waited… and waited… She waited until she was sure.

Patience made the successful marksman.

Patience ensured survival.

Those games of tag were more tedious than mere warfare. One did not charge blindly into it relying on the determination of spirit to carry them. You could not allow anger to bolster your attacks. Impassioned melee was reckless. Emotion was a hindrance, desperation a death sentence. So this game was one of detachment from yourself and that around you, your senses focused solely on the destruction of another who sought the same fate for you. Nothing less was expected during these relentless trials of will.

Sometimes droids were enviable.

Did your knees find the sand, ki diwsia? The lenses of her helmet zoomed in to give a quick scan before she reclined on the dune at her back. With the opposition's disappearance her attention returned to the writhing masses swarming the beach, her search for another red helmet resumed.

The purpose of the New Imperial's war confused Ruek. Of course Tast had all the answers before, but none of his perfect platitudes and philosophic insights held logic to his other half. Though free to go where they pleased, to separate themselves from the Empire and make a place for their future, the broken beasts returned to their masters to die instead. Their true freedom then, she mused, must lie in death. Why else come here?


Agrippa
A trooper burdened with ammunition tread the wet sand as he rushed to feed the guns of disobedience. The barrel of her rifle lowered in a final salute as she tracked a bead on the belt of grenades on his shoulder. Steady hand, steady eye, trigger pulled. The blossom of fire illuminated the night sky in a glorious array of orange and yellow that her lenses constricted to take in.

"What animal flees only to return to its captor and beg to be slaughtered? No matter, the Empire is generous," the rifle cooled as she tracked another target, this time the leader of a charge shouting nonsense about affixing bayonets. Ruek watched as rotary cannon fire belched out from the Empire's forces toward those storming up the beach to issue them their advancement fee.

Pay in blood, heathens. The rifle gave its customary wail as it spat its hot venom.

Salvor Thul
A scathing heat ruptured in the back of her mind punctuated by anger, sorrow, and an echo of disappointment. Recoiling in pain she dropped the rifle to clutch her armored head and shake it--him--away, "S--stop! Stop it you demon! Not this time... not this time!" She grit her teeth and reached forward to retrieve her weapon before hearing a sharp whine.

Her attention snapped toward sounds of a choked blaster. Lenses constricted to glowing pinpricks as the Sith trooper charged forward brandishing a vibrosword.

Ruek leapt forward to meet him with vibro-hatchet in hand and active. She'd meet his slash with her own and push forward attempting to grasp his forearm with the grip of her power glove.

"Your helmet is mine, bastard!"

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

Location: Bridge, HIMS Venality, within the Debris Shoal Zone (DSZ)
Objective: I - Battle of the Shipwrecks
Kit: Skystas Rieve iv Tave Daboti Dvasi | Sith-Imperial Military Uniform
Assets: Thaelius | TSE
Liabilities: Marlon Sularen | Loske Treicolt | NIO
Post: V

---

31st Blockade Group Holding within the Debris Shoal Zone Venality, Preventor II-class Interdictor Battlecruiser Provocation, Tormentor-class Star Destroyer Spoliate, Harrower-class Cruiser Destroyed by debris Arbalest, Longbow-class Heavy Artillery Cruiser Disabled by Sabre Squadron Pavise, Athena-class Shield Frigate Lucid, Vigil II-class Corvette Daze, Vigil II-class Corvette 185/208 Dominance-class Fighters 55/64 Tuk'ata-class Interceptors 6/8 Jurgoran-class Bombers Fusillade Line Aurek Bombarding the Predator Temerarious, Audax-class Cruiser 20/24 Jurgoran-class Bombers 13/16 Tuk'ata-class Interceptors 12/16 Banshee-class Shadow Droids 7/12 Chariot-class Missile Boats Consignment Section One Fleeing toward Braxant Run hyperlane Accrual, Usury-class Treasury Ship Reassigned to Superiority Force Chimera Trance, Vigil II-class Corvette

While a familiar nervousness in the face of battle sat ever-present in his stomach, Tithe could feel his rational mind taking back over. If he ignored the fact that there was a fierce battle raging around him and instead looked at it as an economics problem, he found a clarity that had previously escaped him. Economics, after all, wasn’t the study of money but rather the study of people and their behaviours. If he could understand his enemies and think about them in concepts he was familiar with, the Moff stood a much better chance of surviving this encounter.

All the fighters and bombers of Wraith Squadron hurried in the wake of the debris which they launched using tractor beams toward Superiority Force Chimera. In doing so, Commodore Marlon Sularen had left Wraith Squadron vulnerable to attack by Fusillade Line Aurek, which emerged from the debris field dove into the midst of the enemy formation. While Tithe couldn’t comprehend why his forces had been overlooked, he could see the opportunity that was being presented to him. The NIO fleet were so firmly fixated on their aggressive take-over of Navarch Princeps Thaelius that they had lost sight of the other market forces that were at play.


Trance, the Vigil II-class Corvette reassigned to Superiority Force Chimera, used it’s proximity to Wraith Squadron to relay the starfighters of the Fusillade Line with bombing run data. Two squadrons of Banshee-class Shadow Droids were the first to strafe the Predator, firing their electromagnetic pulse cannons at the five-kilometre long vessel. Three squadrons each of Chariot-class Missile Boats and Jurgoran-class Bombers followed in the wake of the Shadow Droids, pounding away at the Wraith Squadron flagship with their advanced warheads and powerful bombs.

A squadron of Tuk’ata-class Interceptors flew cover for the bombers, drawing enemy point-defence fire and doing what they could to damage the Predator. The Temerarious, an Audax-class Cruiser, acted as a defensive support ship, using its powerful shields and strong hull to provide a moving piece of cover for starfighters needing a moment to recharge their shields.

The Banking Clan bureaucrat then turned his attention to the next challenge facing him. Tithe took a moment to study the small formation of X-02 starfighters. While Wraith Squadron was a market entrant with deep pockets and plenty of infrastructure, Sabre Squadron was an agile disruptor. They moved fast and exploited slow-moving corporate giants. Maynard Treicolt and Loske Treicolt were able to dive in and out of investments, picking their battles and never being caught flat-footed when economic conditions changed. They couldn’t be regulated - they moved too quickly, they would be one step ahead of Tithe no matter what he did. They never invested where they couldn’t see a guaranteed return. For every move, they had a counter.

If you couldn’t beat a disruptor, you joined them - or rather, you had them join you.

“Have the Accural head toward a nearest safe hyperlane,” the Moff ordered. The lightly armed but heavily armoured Usury-class Treasury Ship was packed with credits, precious metals and priceless artefacts being evacuated from Drubrillion for safekeeping.

He composed a short data burst - ’136 million credits - my gift to you’ - and ordered the communications officer to fire off the message on known Galactic Alliance bands, but to keep it off Sith-Imperial channels - the last thing he needed was his superiors knowing he was trying to bribe the enemy. “And order the Principales in charge to drop their treasury pods should the enemy give pursuit.” Whether the X-Wing pilots would take the bait or not he could not say, but it was a tempting offer - military pay levels were always woefully low.

 

[Mordred B'Haran]

Objective 1 - Battle of the Shipwrecks
Dubrillion Far Orbit, at the edge of the Debris Shoal Zone
ANV Never To Yield - Liberty Kai type Star Cruiser
Commander, Combined Task Force Bright Arrow
​

---

Allies: Tyrell Paxxus | Marlon Sularen | Del Lovruc | Hiram Voss | Jalter Volff | Arten Jinn | Maynard Treicolt | Olen Halcorr | Loske Treicolt

Enemies: Nica Dakkar | Aerarii Tithe | Melia Siari | Thaelius ​

---

​

Combined Task Force 'Bright Arrow''Bright Arrow'

21st Carrier Division - Carrier Strike Group 21 Escort Group 211 Attack Squadron 212 35th Battle Division 36th Battle Division Escort Group 171 Escort Carrier Squadron 172 Attack Squadron 173 Strikecraft

• 
  
  • ANV Intrepid, Endurance II-class Fleet Carrier
  • ANV Stalwart, Endurance II-class Fleet Carrier
  • ANV Escutcheon, Defender II-class Assault Carrier
• 
  
  • ANV Partisan, Liberator II-class Cruiser
  • 3 x Avalon-class Corvette
  • 2 x Negotiator-class Light Cruiser
  • 1 x Sacheen II-class Escort Frigate
  • 2 x MCv110 Mon Calamari Corvette
• 
  
  • ANV Tyrena, Correl-class Destroyer
  • 5 x Warrior II-class Gunships
• 
  
  • ANV Never To Yield, MC81k Liberty Kai-class Star Cruiser
  • ANV Voice of Remembrance, Nebula II-class Star Destroyer
  • ANV Binding of Arms, Leviathan-class Star Destroyer
• 
  
  • ANV All Under Sky, Strident-class Star Defender
  • ANV Sunrise & Silver Glass, Majestic II-class Heavy Cruiser
  • 2 x MC140c Scythe-class Battle Cruiser
• 
  
  • ANV Deliverance, Liberator II-class Cruiser
  • 1 x Sacheen II-class Escort Frigate
  • 1 x EF96 Nebulon-A Escort Frigate
  • 2 x Vandal-class Corvette
  • 3 x MCv110 Mon Calamari Corvette
• 
  
  • 2 x CR-37 FarStar Escort Carrier
• 
  
  • 3 x Cutlass-class Assault Frigates
  • 4 x Warrior II-class Gunships
• 
  
  • Defender II Starfighters
  • X-Wings
  • A-Wings
  • E-Wings
  • B-Wings
  • Y-Wings

The Sith had a marked edge in larger ships, but thus far they had focused their efforts on their New Imperial rebels, and damage to CTF Bright Arrow was light. One of the CR-37's had been struck by several long-range solar ionization cannons in sequence, and was effectively out of action, having limped back behind the formation for emergency repairs and evac. One Warrior II had been sunk, another two were disabled, and several larger ships reported serious damage. But those were acceptable losses, well in line with expectations. Small consolation to the families of the dead and dying, no doubt.

The besalisk watched another volley of the Never To Yield's long range main battery score several hits on a distant Star Destroyer which had been under fire for some time now. It listed heavily, a common side effect of critical internal damage causing stabilizing thrusters to fail or fire off randomly, and Mordred was about to call it a kill and order his ship to switch targets when the bulky ship shifted, back to something like a normal axis, fired off another volley of turbolasers at nearby ships, asteroids, and anything else moving, and re-powered up its primary propulsion for the fourth time. You had to admire the tenacity of its crew, and the skill of its damage control teams.

Small consolation for the families of the soon to be dead. He couldn't help but think to himself.

After a quick re-iteration of orders to BatDiv35 to finish off the dying destroyer, he turned his attention to large strategic holo-display, trying to make sense of the chaos all around. There were two distinct organized groups of Sith warships, not to mention dozens of scattered vessels presumably the survivors and disordered remnants of the fleets that had been savaged by the NIO in the first two waves, and given as good as they'd got. The first Sith fleet, a larger unit with a core of several large battlecruisers that had been designated 'Force Chimera' was engaged with a NIO fleet, 'Wraith Squadron' under the command of one Commodore Sularen. A second NIO force, mostly fast attack ships, was participating in hit and run strikes on Force Chimera, though there was too much feedback to get a clear picture of the damage.

The second Sith fleet was smaller, and had only recently moved into the DSZ. They seemed to be suffering the worst of the attention of the NIO and GADF strikecraft, and at a glance their commander faced annihilation by piecemeal if they didn't do something. With a practiced eye, Mordred scanned the formation and saw the beginning of... Well, it was something, but it was too far off and the incoming data too spotty to do anything but guess. He figured the Imperials would have better things to do than listen to wild speculation from an Alliance veteran, and moved on.

Beyond the individual battles waged around those two fleets, the Alliance strikecraft squadrons appeared to making good progress in isolating and destroying to disabling individual Sith ships, but the larger formations had proven stubbornly resistant to disruption. Furthermore the DSZ was proving to be an insanely hazardous battlespace. Though reports continued to be spotty and infrequent, initial casualty numbers showed as many losses to collisions, accidents, or other mishaps as there were to enemy fire. It was hard to blame the N-IMPs for their reliance on fighters at the moment though, given the destruction arrayed around them.

The Binding of Arms scored a pair of hits with its primary HVC's on the crippled Star Destroyer and a moment after the initial impact they were rewarded with a sudden, massive explosion that started in the bowels of the ship and rapidly consumed its aft section. As the imagery updated at the speed of light, the target now showed a large chunk just... missing, and power output had dropped to almost nothing. A moment later the combat systems computer updated the track from 'hostile' to 'hulk.' Now it was just another navigational hazard.

So a lot of wrecked ships, and neither side with a clear advantage. That gave him two options. He could sit back and keep waiting for something to change, or he could make some change.

If there was ever a creed that Mordred B'Haran lived by, it was shoot first, ask for forgiveness later.

Battle Group, form in twin-delta and advance. We'll clear a hole for the attack ships, and make a corridor for friendly strikecraft to fall back and resupply. Our objective is to drive a wedge between the Sith fleets, and give our allies a chance to isolate and destroy them. Let our fighters know their heavy support is going to be backing off, I need all my ships for this, but the bombers and gunships are still with them."

A comms officer gave a verbal 'aye aye' and passed the message on to the various squadron commanders like Maynard Treicolt , Olen Halcorr , and Loske Treicolt .

The Binding of Arms and the All Under Sky led their respective divisions, with escorts filling in the gaps and the attack ships waiting like vultures to swoop in on injured prey. The Carriers stayed back behind the DSZ, which would increase travel time for strikecraft but leave them largely guarded against heavy fire. The first clue that anyone on the Sith side would have to the GADF advance was a sudden barrage of short-ranged turbolaser fire obliterating asteroids and debris in a small arc around the force, gradually carving a bubble of mostly clear space around the half dozen destroyers and heavy cruisers as they moved forward. As the mists of debris faded and drifted apart, carried on the inertia of the blasts that had ripped them apart, the Warrior gunships and Cutlass frigates that had ranged out earlier linked back up with the fleet and filled in their places.

Progress was slow but steady, Mordred was unwilling to risk a loss of a warship via collision, but it didn't take long before incoming fire kicked up a notch, though largely from the scattered disorganized Sith ships throughout the DSZ. Outgoing fire ratcheted up a degree too, as the destroyers and crusiers brought the majority of their weapon banks into range and began to select targets.

The stalemate would be broken, one way or another.

 

[Aerith Krayt]

Post: 3
Location: TARGET BEACH HOTH
Task: Battle for Dubrillion - Storm Surge
RP Partners: Ravraa Vyshraal
Opponents: Orion Darkstar
Faction: New Imperial Order

Not finding the target, Aerith merely disregarded the unknown shooter. Her helmet had a nice blaster mark across the side of it. Bastard snipers, doing what they did best; ruin everyone's day. There wasn't time for that however, they had a job to do. She was the toughest hunk of metal on this beach right now, so if they wanted to see the next day she had best get to work. Ravraa gave a command, suppress those gun positions was the order, so follow it Aerith did. Hefting her REC with a relative ease, she unloaded into the gun positions, showering them with high impact munitions from the barrel of her rail gun; it was good to get the real toys. Her combat implants kicked in, adrenaline was moderated, her heart beat found a steady pulse of 194 BPM, and she felt at home.

Her boots dug into the bloody soaked sands, feeling shards of glass breaking under her metal heels. The recoil of the gun was hardly noticeable at all, mostly due to the fact that her implants cut sensation in her prosthetics off. 'Remember the mission?' She felt a voice say at the back of her mind, making time seem to stop as she found herself caught in a memory.

"Subject is responding well. Shall we test the code words?" The unseen man inquired, as another voice responded. "Ah, yes. That would be perfect. I'll increase the restraint levels." She was back on Drommand Kaas, the dungeon where she had been molded into this machine. She needed to have her hardware checked out again she got back. Her memory implant had to be damaged, this had to be some sort of corruption; she shouldn't be seeing this now. "Windigo. Nighthowler. Kath Hound. Seven. Kessel. Dagobah. Krayt...." The pain certainly felt real. Her old master had programed these words into her, a way to inflict pain and remind her who was in control, but also to strip her of her will. She had believed those codes were lost forever, but in nightmares like this they served to torment her. The words began to fade away, as all there was, was an overwhelming pain. On instinct, she struggled on the table, the pain serving as a tool to drive her into a frenzy, and it worked. It felt as if they had thrown her brain in a blender, as a sharp pain punctured in and out of her skull like clockwork. She had experienced this moment several times over, to the point that it had become mundane. She knew every word they were going to say, every jab they would take at her. It was like living in the worlds worst series of rerun sitcoms; and suffering through it all the while. "Look how resilient it is. Remarkable." "Well don't stop there, keep going. We have to make sure everything integrated properly." "Ah, quite right. Now, where was I...." She had these nightmares often since the incident on Borosk, but never like this. She always woke up at this part, but this time she didn't. A woman stood over her this time, the pain seemed to stop briefly as they locked eyes. She looked familiar, yet Aerith couldn't place why. "Do you remember your mission? Bury it deep down. For me. Don't let it go." If only Aerith knew what the woman was talking about.

She snapped back into the real world, finding that she had faltered in the advance, but had no clue on as to how long she had lost her head. She doubled down, quickening her pace, trying to keep pace with Ravraa, spraying what little was left in her gun at the defenses. She couldn't afford another malfunction. Not here. Not now. It had to be that hit to the head, that had to be what triggered it; if not, the alternative was far more terrifying. This wasn't the time or place for it though. No. She had a mission, knock out the AA guns and keep her squad alive. She could sort out her memory problems later.

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

// IMPERATOR //: 501st Legion | 12th Armored Assault | Sons of Mandalore
// OBJECTIVE //: Operation Storm Surge | Target Beach HOTH
// ALLIES | NIO //: Agrippa | Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt | Del Lovruc | Ravraa Vyshraal

Spoiler: Target Beach HOTH | NIO

Agrippa
Ravraa Vyshraal
Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt
Lucien Dooku
Salvor Thul
Spencer Varanin
Aerith Castiella
Lunafreya Solidor
Ra Vizsla
Strain
Warchief Waddles
Junda
Grigory Tallis
Zsuzsa
Vilaz Munin
Warchief Waddles

// ENEMIES | TSE //: Ruek Tast | Lark | Tykar Valkroin | Orion Darkstar | The Sith Empire | OPEN
Armor [Shore/Tropic Climate Adjustments] | Rifle | Pistol | Melee | Grenades

​

I R V E R I C _ T A V L A R
S P I D E R S

That order given down the ladder of command by Gladius-Actual surged adrenaline through his form as he witnessed the rapid beams of blaster bolts illuminate the duraplast plating of the stormtroopers as they made the charge. Maybe it was because of the closeness of her on the field for the first time in so long. Maybe it was her voice over the comms. Maybe it was just the sights and sounds of it all but he felt the sights and vision of naked reality narrow and tunnel before a blackness enveloped his gaze. Again.

There he was again. It was only a few short hours following the explosion which left Lyra permanently marred along the left side of her body. And here he was at the tip of the spear again. To his left...his right. The troopers of the One Sith. They each looked back to him, much as the Stormtroopers of the New Imperial Order do now with that foreboding blackness in the duraplast visage of their helmets. Terrifying to the enemy but to him...endearing, looking to him for the command, guidance. Young men and women ripped from lives they'd never knew they'd miss and thrown into the fray again. Scared children with guns in their hands.

"On me! Up!"

He heard his own voice yell out in his ears, as if it was from someone else. He was still strained from the obligation of command. From the weight he felt but he still had the energy of a man yet to be beaten down and struck low to his knees from the toil, the emotional pain and calcification. He could only wonder in that brief moment what that Sith Major would think if he was told all that was waiting for him. Cather. Kintan. Mandalore. The Order. Muunilinst. Lyra.

He could only imagine the reaction. Confusion. Bewilderment. Humility. Pain. He could've never anticipated nor could he ever have wanted this. To the Sovereign Imperator...to set about the undoing of the Sith Empire. Maybe that's why he was here, on the field, on the ground amidsts the blood and gore. His more complex thoughts of strategic necessities across the front of this existential war drowned out by the noise and chaos of everything around him. Each decision he made was based on compounded instinct or easily drawn experience, not any complex deliberation.

Then it broke again, to make way to the flood of sensory envelopment of true and naked reality in all its ugliness. He could feel a cold sweat settle on his skin as he placed himself into perspective again. He had gotten good at aligning himself again. It took too many times to realize nothing waited for him.

Nothing.

<501st...into the breach."> The Sovereign Imperator ordered to his legion in wait. His will be done, they obeyed. Stormtroopers true, this was exactly what they were molded for. Outnumbered, outgunned as they might be this infantry wasn't bred to fight from the shadows and harass these Sith. They were made so that they'd charge into the fray and descend into their death throes pulling a chain of twelve fold of the enemy superior behind them. They were the will of defiance. The foundation of this Order.

<"You heard the Imperator! We're up! On the move! Go go go!"> A captain of the 501st shouted out to his men as they charged no man's land alongside the armor brought ashore by an element of the 12th Armored Assault, the most frequent companion to the 501st and the Sovereign Imperator. Both units being either formed or reconstituted on his will alone.

With heavier battle droids leading the charge, the troopers jumped into the trenches alongside the Dark Trooper battle droids. Then it all began again. The carnage. Though these were ideal conditions, Sith present or not, they were the storm.

The pound of scatterguns thumping against the duraplast of Sith Troopers culminated a morbidly beautiful symphony alongside the deafening scream of grenades and explosives rupturing the Sith dug into the trenches and other defensive positions. It was within venues like this that the troopers could at least take respite in not having to shoulder the load of stratagem.

It was pure base level instinct hammered into their psyche by the bruising training they'd endured to get to this point before. The breakthrough had been made and Target Beach Hoth was now in the full throes of the assault. The Sith would be spared no room to consolidate their superior numbers and firepower as the tendrils of the New Imperial assault manifested itself in infernal chaos in the defensive lines.

<"Sir! Sir! Imperator!"> The trooper sounded out to Irveric, his helmeted gaze mirroring hers if not for the cobalt markings of his Legion and the crimson display of what could only be regarded as his personal sigil in a snake with its fangs drawn springing from the eye of a shattered skull. Foreboding, but no other symbolism best encapsulated his nature.

<"Speak."> Was all he could muster, the unit markings of the 307th drew a faint alarm. Lyra certainly seemed content to follow her orders, being the good soldier she always espoused herself to be even if it was with any lack of endearment in defiance to him. His patience with her was waring, after he was all but ready to approach with forgiveness after the rhetoric spouted by Kascalion Giedfield and she shunned him in frigid silence. He couldn't care. His sights were back on this war, this order, this struggle to exist, to remain alive and snuff out the darkness.

<"Its- Ly- The Legion Commander, she's...hurt. She's clutching at her stomach but she refused attention."> The female trooper, the runner sent by Voi'kryt motioned a hand over her own abdomen in mimicking of Lyra's own manneurism.

<"Sir..."> She said, she pleaded. Something was wrong beyond any conventional wound. She seemed to have a gauge of what it might be but she wouldn't dare mouth any assumption, imply and accusation into open air.

She could only hope Tavlar knew.

<"Where is she?"> He seemed to snap back at her. She, the runner didn't feel offended or alarmed, she knew why.

<"She's- she's in the charge with the 307th."> She sounded out in quick reply to the Imperator.

<"You- NO!"> His armor cracked again. Not now, not here. He tried to recenter himself again. He wouldn't dare let his troopers see him ill at ease within the chaos. They had to be well aware that he was as in control of himself as he was the battle around him.

But he wasn't.

<"Enigma! On me, now!"> He sounded out to his command squad, his constant retinue on the field. Drawing his sidearm from the holster at his waist. They could tell immediately by the nature of their commander this was no rational excursion but regardless. They followed.

He started to walk at first, the residual pain from his encounter on Borosk threatening to seize his body with each aching step before soon enough he began to run. He assumed which in this moment, could only be the worst. Surging into the front taken up by the 307th, he let out a strained shout of her name again.

<"LYRA!"> He barked out, eventually delving into the trench himself as he sought her out, glancing blows and the death-clad orchestra around him be damned. He had to find her.

// NOMAD //: Waylon Treicolt | 12th Armored Assault
// OBJECTIVE //: Operation Storm Surge | Target Beach HOTH
Tank | Armor | Pistol

​

Being next down the ladder, Waylon assumed command.

The Cataphracts had now gained a foothold and from there, dug the stabilizing legs into the sands beneath, allowing for the repulsorlifts to flick off as the hum of the internal power generators routed to the shields before siphoning any and everything else into the Megacaliber Six mounted to the main turret of the gun. From there, that thundering screech of the turbolasers screeched out in electric death with each volley unto the heightened defenses of the Sith lines along the beach head.

<"Target in priority descending."> Waylon sounded out, his gaze continously peering down the redundant sight of the main gun.

<"Acknowledged."> The gunner sounded in reply to Waylon, following the structures, vehicles and guns painted by the spotters from Gladius.

<"Gunner, M6, AT gun."> Waylon commanded to follow up, eyeing down one of the several anti-armor emplacements along the fortifications. Each passing moment it fired out another golden bolt of death in the direction of one of their own, sending that horrific 'crack' which punished the shielding of a nearby Cataphract.

<"Identified."> The gunner sounded out, the night sights and the ping from Treicolt certainly helped.

<"Up."> Time to charge up the gun, with the extra juice from the killed repulsorlifts, it took a second longer but the payout was all the more worth it. Even if the urgency heightened when a burst of sand clotted the sights as a rocket landed in the beach head near them.

<"Fire."> Stabilized or not, the Megacaliber Six still had a rediculous kick to it. Luckily Waylon had been through hell with this crew enough times to know each of them was expecting it to the point where it wasn't anything they were jostled with lack of anticipation over. Down the sights he could see those shrieking red bolts of death land on target, a volley of three was all it took before he manned the targeting sights to pin the next target.

 

[Hiram Voss]

Location: DSZ, NIV Carnivore
Command: Force Escort ‘Pride’, Ad Hoc Formation ‘Spear’
Allies: Mordred B'Haran | Cheapshot | Marlon Sularen
Enemies: Thaelius | Aerarii Tithe
Targeted Vessel: Aurtach-Class Siege Breakers
Objective: Operation Harpoon

​

Spoiler: Ad Hoc Battle Formation 'Spear'

Squadron One:

• 9x Caçadore-class Assault Corvette [x]​

Squadron Two:

• 13x Gurkha-Class Attack Corvettes [x]

Squadron Three:

• 9x Warrior-II Class Corvettes [x]
• 7x Vandal-Class Corvettes [x]

Remnant of Escort Force 'Pride'

• 2x Stalwart-Class Carrier [x]
• 2x Valiant-Class 'Star Destroyer' [x]
• 4x Nebulon-A Class Frigate [x]
• 6x Warrior-II Class Corvettes [x]

Strikecraft

• 16x TIE Outlander Squaadrons [x]
• 10x TIE Slasher Squadrons [x]
• 6x TIE Bruiser Squadrons [x]

​

​

Hiram's aged and wrinkled hands gripped the back of the helmsman's chair. Knuckles went white with tension as bolts from proton beam batteries slammed into the debris field, fragmenting the carcasses of both New and Sith Imperial vessels and splintering them into smaller fragments. "Faster!" Hiram bellowed, "Faster lieutenant," Hiram snarled into his ear, "Give her all she's got!" The captain snarled, as a mass driver detonated on the starboard side of the Predator. The crew was rocked, some sent sprawling.

"Hold steady men!" Lieutenant Hadrian Boars roared with the ferocity of a rancor, "Hold steady and have courage!" The Carnivore along with the rest of the corvettes furiously sprinted through the debris, until the fire from the gargantuan battlecruisers faded. The battle still raged below, but formation 'Spear' was now largely out of range. Hiram breathed in deeply, and out with a huff. He leaned against the helmsmans seat, and gave the younger officer a reassuring pat on the back. Boars however was first man to take charge, "Comms, do we have orders from commodore Sularen?"

There was a pause. "Nothing sir. No reply." The signals officer reported. Hiram snarled. Just his luck. He and his men go out of the way to try and work the fleet, get given orders by no acknowledgement. Typical of those who were far more absorbed with the work of their fancy cruisers and star destroyers. Not that he would tell or even acknowledge that to Sularen. Not yet anyway. Hiram's attentions turned to the battle display on the datapad upon his seat. He could see Ordo's fleet closing and bombarding the fleet heavily. Perhaps that was Sularen's reasoning. Or perhaps the commodore did not care for the charges initiated by Hiram's pack.

"It is immaterial," Hiram eventually drawled, "Reorganise our formation," The captain commanded, "Another charge into the breach, this time," He approached Boars, pad in hand and gestured to the gargantuan artillery vessels now slamming heavy loads into the fleet. "Here, lieutenant is where we strike." He gestured to the two aurtach-siege breakers in play. "We overwhelm their command decks with fire and brimstone. They're crushed, and we swoop out, and flee the scene." Hiram paused, and gave a nod to the signals officer, "Relay that. That is in fact the plan."

The corvettes quickly manoeuvred themselves into formation. The Carnivore again taking the lead. "Alright, this is it. No time for sharpshooting or accuracy. This here gentlemen and ladies," Voss announced, "Is it. Is a quick flyby bombing, like we're a bunch of TIE jockeys. Split into two groups, choose your targets, and we’re going to try and sink both of these big fellas at once." He offered with wry jocularity, only observable by his own staff. "We go on my mark. Three. Two. One....." He paused, "Run." The flight of cacadore-class corvettes sprinted from the edge of the battle and into the fray. They approached like dive bombers, sinking closer and closer until they hit within range. "All vessels, split, choose a target, fire and crush their command bridge. Overwhelm them." The cacadores flew closer and closer, their speed out running the batteries of the Sith guns, speeding lower and lower, until at near point blank range, the all too familiar barrage. The cacadores then skillfully adjusted their vector, and slipped down and under the Sith imperial fleet once again. A pest in their side.

Then came the second wave of gurkha-class who provided the same gargantuan and vicious deployment of hellfire upon the top of the siege-breakers command tower. But it was the third wave which suffered horrific casualties. Caught in the crossfire of the larger vessels, one of the vandal-class corvettes, hit in the engines, overshot the maneuver point and instead, slammed head first into the command bridge of one of the siege-breakers. Hiram watched from his seat, wincing at the casualties. He knew it was a high risk game. But now, now he was doubting whether his men would be remembered by their enemies.

 

[Thaelius]

Location // HMIS "Chimera", DSV Permiter //
Objective // Multi Task //
Focus // Aerarii Tithe Hiram Voss Marlon Sularen //

"How crudely efficient"

The Chiss Admiral had to admit the last strategy to eliminate part of the Debris Zone was rather unartistic. It saddened him to an extent but he accepted it. It worked and it was as simple as that. But as victory seemed to be within his grasp, it seemed as though the New Imperial Captain, was continuing to prove himself a component commander. Worthy of recognition in the Prefsbelt IV archives maybe?

"The Crimson Sun isn't looking to good. Corvette slammed directly into her bridge. Now, the ranking officer is the Engineer" Reported the Commodore, her eyes drifting from Thaelius' face in shame.

"None the matter. Have the warship pull back and redeploy TF Crusader in it's stead. In addition, have our Intercessor Class Star Destroyer's move in to engage that Task Force. Tell the Arbiter Class Battlecruiser to bring all it's cannon to bear on those corvettes, here"

He pointed to the proverbial vanguard of the New Imperial Task Force, knowing full well the Arbiter Class Heavy Battlecruiser with it's vast collection of Mass Driver Cannons should be able to defeat the smaller force of corvettes. "Send some fighter squadrons as well. Tell them to begin bombing runs on that set of Destroyer's"

Within minutes, the Chiss' orders were carried out. He watched as the Crimson Sun, an Autarch Class Siege Breaker broke from the enemy assault and replaced with twin Intercessor Class Destroyer's. He only watched as thousands of fast, bright light began pushing towards the Corvette dominant Task Force.

"Now what do we do about Mr. Sularen?"

For a moment he thought, his forces were indeed spread thin but he could make several strategic descions which could eventually lead to the Commodores downfall. "Have TF Crusader fire all thier Coliguns. One target each, from Sularens Force. Seven rounds, each target. It's time to end this."

The Commodore raised her eyebrows as she watched massive rounds spiral through space and crash into New Imperial Warships. She smiled at the fire and destruction.

 

[Marlon Sularen]

Location | Dubrillion
Objective | Battle of the Shipwrecks
Focus | Thaelius | Hiram Voss | Aerarii Tithe

Spoiler: Wraith Squadron

• Agitator-Class Super Heavy Battlecarrier [x1] | Heavy Damage to the Shields
• Phaetra-Class Fleet Carrier [x1] | Light Damage to the Shields
• Praefect-Class Star Destroyer [x1] | Moderate Damage to the Shields
• Endurance-II Class Pocket Carrier [x2] | Considerable Damage to the Shields
• Inceptus-Class Assault Ship [x2] | Moderate Damage to the Shields
• Intercessor-Class Star Destroyer [x2] | Light Damage to the Shields
• Starfighter/Bomber Compliment
  • Tie Drones [40 Squadrons | 960 Total]
  • Tie Outlanders [20 Squadrons | 320 Total]
  • Tie Slashers [10 Squadrons | 120 Total]
  • Tie Vanguards [5 Squadrons | 40 Total ]
  • Tie Bruisers [15 Squadrons | 120 Total ]
  • Tie Maulers [ 10 Squadrons | 80 Total ]

The Battle was somewhat progressing well. Given at Marlon Sularen and Hiram Voss sudden counter-attack , Thaelius Ordo's Fleet was at it's knees overstretched. What was even better for Marlon Sularen and Wraith Squadron is that Thaelius Ordo diverted much of his focus on Hiram Voss and his Task Force. Given at how they were faster and more maneuverable heavy hitters such as the Arbiter and the Seige Breakers would be unable to hit those Corvettes with their special weapons as they were just to fast.

Meanwhile the only force opposing Wraith Squadron as a meager 7 Longbow-Class Artillery Cruisers. However just before Marlon Sularen was about to make a decision regarding his counter-attack against the Longbows the Predator was hampered by a group of mixed fighters and bombers shaking the bridge of the Predator. Surprised of this Marlon turned to the Captain of the Predator. "What just happened?" Marlon asked. "Sir it appears that a small strike group composed of 52 Fighters and Bombers just struck the Predator. Through such an attack our shields are down to 15% sir and won't last against another bombing run" the Captain Replied.

"Karabast" Marlon replied. "All of our fighters and bombers are busy with the Thaelius Ordo's Fleet. Recall 5 Tie Drone Squadrons and have them get rid of that annoyance. Meanwhile have all of our fighters punish those Artillery Cruisers annoying us while also having the Fleet target them. We better get rid of those Artillery Cruisers if we are going to help Captain Voss." Marlon ordered. The Captain simply nodded and headed out to relay those orders to the rest of Wraith Squadron. This was a surprising turn of events but if Captain Voss could hold on for long enough then Marlon could finish off those Artillery Cruisers and deal with Thaelius Ordo's Flagship itself.

"Get me Captain Voss on the line , i have new orders for him" Marlon said to his officers. Soon he was in contact with Hiram Voss. "Captain Voss i need you to further distract those vessels pursuing you and try to target their weak spots. With the maneuverability of your corvettes you should be able to evade the main weapons of those ships. If everything goes according to planned. This Sith-Imperial Task Force won't last for long." and with that Marlon ended the transmission and as the Battle progressed he hoped that he was right hoping that if his strategy worked the Sith-Imperial Fleet of Thaelius Ordo would not be a concern for the rest of the Third Imperial Civil War. But that had yet to be determined for the Battle was not yet over.

Spoiler: Fleet Action

• The Vessels of Wraith Squadron take some minimal damage from the Artillery Cruisers while the Predator takes a beating from Tithe's Attack
• 5 Tie Drone Squadrons are sent to deal with the Fighters and Bombers of Fusillade Line Aurek while the Predator opens fire on the Temerarious
• All remaining Fighter and Bomber Squadrons attack all 10 of the Longbow Artillery Cruisers assisted by the rest of Wraith Squadron [Excluding the Predator] who return fire on the Longbows
• Marlon Sularen orders Hiram Voss to continue distracting Thaelius Ordo's Main Vessels and to target their weak points [Target Ships include : Autarch-Class Seige Breaker and Arbiter-Class Heavy Battlecruiser]

 

[Lark]

​

Allies: TSE
Enemies: NIO and Lunafreya Solidor
Objective: Defend the Beach

This is wrong, this isn't the right way to do this, the young voice said, as a few dozen bodies hit the scarlet sand. His tempest of energy eventually struck the woman with the scythe, but she didn't fall in the same manner the others did. No, she seemed to absorb the attack with her weapon. A powerful opponent indeed. After slipping, the woman quickly rose once more and smiled with the ferocity of an exploding sun. At times that same ferocity resided within him, although he kept that side of him hidden, masked behind a slew of different personas. Instead of a feral growl, his anger took the form of a gentle smile. And no one would ever know until it was too late.

Perhaps you'd like to politely ask them to leave? I truly am sorry, Lark thought softly. But if we want to spend time with our brother and sister in peace, this is the only way. Each and every soldier here wants to rip away our dreams of a tranquil sunset.

For a mere moment, Lark only heard silence. The woman charged and lept into the air, identifying that Lark was the one who initiated the prior attack. Soldiers continued to die, years spent training only to end up a sandy corpse. And then that child spoke once more. You're lying. This means nothing to you. The killing. The beach. MY siblings-

A wave crashed as Lark's rage grew. As the torrential stream of water slammed against the beach, dragging corpses into that pitch black horizon, the child within him was silenced. How dare he? How dare he claim that Lark cared naught for his brother and sister? For years now he had sought them out, and as the days went by he grew closer and closer to finally learning of where his dear sister was sold to. It was he who fought so desperately to find them, not that child who burned away so long ago.

Only the deafening rush of the crashing wave filled his ears, as he slowly gazed up at the descending NIO woman. He smiled kindly at her with soft eyes as she began to arc her long scythe towards him, careful not to strike her own soldiers. The woman was fast, but Lark recalled a lesson he once learned while spectating a sparring match between another apprentice and his old Master Krest.

The air was a risky place to be.

With the eruptions of the ocean echoing within him, he lashed out violently with the Force. The sand at his feet pulsed and went soaring away from him, and he focused his energy on the woman. He sent a wave of invisible strength towards her, hoping to send her flying backwards before she hit the ground.

A drop of water caressed his cheek, he knew not whether it was a tear or water from the ocean. I do this ALL for them...