Faction Into the Fire [GA ft. NIO]

[Shattered_Mirror]

Mid Rim Region // Glythe Sector // Fornax System.
5th Galactic Alliance Expeditionary Fleet; Taskforce 40 - Squadron 5.
Transferred from the HomeFront to the Sith-Imperial Front.
Eidolon II, Scythe - Class Main Battle Cruiser.
Arriving In-System...​

It was an ambush. The solar radiation emanating from the Rings of Fornax masked their approach. They never saw it coming. Seventeen transports, bulk cruisers, and cargo vessels found themselves soaring right into the guns of a Sith-Imperial taskforce. It was a slaughter. Those starships didn't stand a chance. Within seconds of reverting from hyperspace, their hulls blossomed with fiery flowers of venting gases and sundered metal. They screamed into the silence of the aether as they died. Their voices were cut short as they cried for salvation. Sadly, they wouldn't live to see their salvation arrive. The last of their number perished long before a Squadron of Alliance Warships, fresh from another Front, translated into realspace with a flicker of pseudomotion.

Silence greeted them, as the Eidolon and her escorts soared across the solar tides. Their sensors sang with the remnants of a one-sided skirmish, alongside the decaying trails of cooling ionic gases. The Convoy was gone, and their Quarry had gone to ground. Likely taking cover within the Fire Rings, as the solarized radiation and magnetic anomalies played havoc with their sensor sweeps. They were playing right into the Sith-Imperial's hands, and there was nothing that could be done about it. It was the only way to draw them out, Jianna mused. Those warships could've easily remained hidden for ages, waiting for the Alliance and the New Imperial Order to consider this sector cleared - before emerging from the shadows to strike at another unsuspecting Convoy.

That wouldn't happen. Not here, and not now. The Eidolon and her Crew would avenge the lives lost here today; No matter the cost.

"Virgil," Jianna said, as her eyes devoured the newest data appearing on her tactical display's updating feed. "I want recon probes sweeping through the seventh grid allocation along this vector." Her finger swept across the hololithic projector's surface, indicating the exact path that she wanted her probes to traverse. The Shipboard Construct saw that the data was instantly delegated to the Eidolon's probes, and watched as their digital representations obeyed their Captain's command. "Aye, ma'am. Probes Seven and Ten are in compliance and are working to correct their trajectory to match your specified course. I will update your screed when new information becomes available."

It wasn't long until the Probes' data was transmitted to the Eidolon in tight-beam data packets. Once they were decrypted and uploaded to the mainframe, Jianna's hungry eyes drank in the details. As several lines of text scrolled across the screen, her face adopted a look of surprise. High Command didn't mention that there were any Active Assets in this System, let alone from their Allies. They simply said that a Convoy was headed towards Fornax before going dark and that it was their mission to investigate and recover whatever assets they could. However, as one of the Probes swept towards the Planet, their sensors picked up a faint transmission amongst the dust and echoes. It was a cry for help that carried both New Imperial and Alliance IFF transponder coding.

While the contents of the message needed digital reconstruction to reveal what was said, the message's intent was clear. Now, all that remained was pinpointing the Point of Origin and dispatch whatever reinforcements that she could muster.

As her attention shifted towards allocating assets for a ground battle, a priority alert and transmission were transferred to her station. She blinked once, before gently tapping the alert with a graceful finger. The signal transformed into a holographic representation of an armoured figure, staring into the outstretched palm of his hand. His ivory panopoly was covered with ocherous markings, each bearing a significant meaning to the wearer and acting as his personal heraldry. "Ah," Jianna began. "Lieutenant Raith. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Fornax," Gideon said, with nothing more than a subtle tilt of his head. It was hard to determine, or even get a read on the Commando as the man was rarely seen outside his armour. Something about being ever vigilant or always ready for action. An admirable trait, to be sure, but likely an uncomfortable one. Especially when it came to the downtime between missions. Sleeping in full-bodied power armour? It's a miracle they're partially pleasant to interact with. Most 'normal' people would've nothing short of grouchy bastards that would've strained her professional courtesy limits.

"What about it?" She said, tilting her head to the side and cocking an inquisitive brow.

"We need you to bring the Eidolon closer to the Planet, so Sigma Squad can-"​

'Wait." Jianna interrupted. It was then that the realization struck. Not only had an Alliance Convoy been destroyed, but there was also an active operation transpiring on the Planet's surface. Why wasn't she notified? Did High Command figure that she wouldn't care? There were too many questions that went unanswered. "How did you get aboard my ship?"

"That's classified, Captain. All the same, we'll need you to bring the Eidolon closer to the Planet for us to expedite our departure."​

"Do you realize what you're asking?" Jianna asked, her brow furrowing. "We know little of what happened to our Convoy in the System, and with the Fire Rings playing merry havoc on our Ship's systems? You're asking us to spear into the heart of the unknown, with likely a hostile presence waiting for us to spring the trap. No offence… Lieutenant, I'm not interested in potentially sacrificing my Ship to act as your Chauffeur." With her lips curling into an imperious sneer, Jianna tilted her head backwards and looked down at the projection from the bridge of her nose. "Now, as the Captain of the Eidolon, I highly suggest you take one of our Gunships and proceed towards the Planet on your own. We'll cover your approach as we make our way, but I will not blindly advance into an obvious trap."

Forcing the transmission to terminate with a curt wave of a hand, Jianna let out a seething sigh of frustration. "The nerve…" ​

"Captain," Virgil said, softly as Jianna started to turn away from the tactical hololith. "One of our Gunships has been commandeered by Sigma Squad and One of our Pilots."

"Yes-yes. I told them that they could take it. Feel free to post-humorously authorize its departure, and make sure the paper trail's in order. I don't want the Brass to think I was non-compliant, and ungrateful for being their Chauffeur. Let alone throw my Ship into danger."

As if bidden forth by the winds of comedic timing, the warning klaxons started to wail. The lights dimmed to an arterial crimson, bathing the command deck in the dark hues. Jianna's eyes rolled into the back of her head before she moved towards the Command dias. The others, who were standing near their stations, or were waiting for the results of whatever monotonous task they sought to complete, dashed to their action stations. Virgil's regal avatar manifested beside Jianna, with his digitized arms folded neatly behind his back.

"It seems," Virgil began with a wry smile, "That danger's decided to throw itself at you."​

 

[Zahara Myneto]

Y U N G _ C O R E L L I A N _ H E R O


// LOCATION //: Fornax System, Glythe Sector, Mid Rim
// COMMAND //: Admiral Zahara Myneto, ASV "Resolute"
// UNIT //: 5th Galactic Alliance Expeditionary Fleet | Battlegroup
// OBJECTIVE //:
// ALLIES //: | Shattered_Mirror | GA & NIO
// ENEMIES //: | TSE


The Resolute exited hyperspace shortky after the Fifth Expeditionary Fleet, separate from the main force, yet imposing on it's own. And as Zahara stepped onto the bridge platform of the massive Star Destoyer, he couldn't help but frown at the sheer amount of debris found in system.

"Admiral, we didn't get a chance to meet-" The Captain of the Resolute was immediately cut off by his superior, whose focus remained solely on the enemy fleet ahead of them.

"Pleasantries after war, Captain. What is the status of the enemy fleet?" Intuitive as ever, Zahara stared at the holo-table which showed the status of the Fifth Fleet, yet no statistics of the enemy fleet were shown. The Captain gestured outwards, towards the system which was known for it's gravermetric horrors n

"The distortion from the Fire Rings are blocking our sensor sweeps. We simply can't tell how many ships they have and what class they are". Before Zahara could reply however, he noticed a blip in the Holo-Tables display seeming to leave away from a warship named Eidolon II.

"Sir, the Eidolon has just launched a gunship. It's seemingly moving towards the planet's surface. The Eidolon has confirmed that the Gunship is being operated by a Commando Unit"

Zahara nodded before seating himself into the command chair at the center of the bridge, abruptly ending his conversation with the Captain by walking away. His hands gripped the armrests tighter as a looming shadow began to appear across the main view screen.

"And so begins, the war of Earth and Heaven"

 

[Seydou of Thyrsus]

The boldness, near stupidity, of the Alliance soldier was high even by Mandalorian standards. Let alone aruetii's. The fearsome warriors did not believe in miracles, nor luck. A man made his choices and forged his fate with his own two hands. Sith-Imperial Legionnaires saw the man as an easy target and fired back.. They were out for blood, their discipline was wavering but their morale - they would fight to the last man. Amon noted it. Something was going on.

Something big was brewing.

He picked up the kit from the Captain and went to work, not the most exemplary rigging specialist out there but ego prevented him from shifting the task at hand back to the NIO officer. A terrible idea. The starfighter would explode prematurely.

"I take the pliers off the wiring and we explode." Amon stated grimly to Captain Azumi. Behind the T-visor lied a worried and angry face.

The Legionnaires were quickly approaching. Time was running out.

Vitani Azumi Trevin Neros
Kolson Vrask Simon Meinrad
Iryss
Kir Dantos Gala Geert
Shattered_Mirror Zahara Myneto

 

[Iryss]

IMPERIAL SECURITY BUREAU

C O V E R T
O P E R A T I O N S​

Surface of Fornax

The Battlegrounds​

Weaving through sniper fire was not a particularly pleasant task, but it seemed that the Sith forces were waning as Alliance and New Imperial forces struck at strategic weaknesses. But the battle would continue to rage on, and even in the space outside of the planet, Sith battlecruisers would be silently lining up as more and more assets came to the planet. Who knew what the Sith were waiting for, perhaps this group of Alliance and New Imperial commandos were specifically targeted. Or perhaps there was a bigger secret on Fornax than anyone else had yet to discover.

As she reached the II Doppelsöldner, she had her battle droids cover her retreat and comm'ed her Communications Officer.

"How are comms looking?"

A disgruntled, negatory grunt sounded out in response and Iryss chuckled lightheartedly in response. Her inner conscious was cold and wary on the contrary and so, she sounded off to her squadron leader.

"Get the Interceptors in the air. I need high altitude reconnaissance only, do not engage and evasive actions only. We do not know what the Sith are planning and I need every asset at full strength."

Looking back her destroyed armor, she motioned for one of the droids to fetch and replace the back plate. Iryss contemplated her next course of action and ultimately decided to scout farther out.

"Bring me a MPT."

Stepping inside the AT-MPT 01x, she ventured away from the battlefield and began searching the perimeter and outskirts for a glimpse at what was approaching.

The Cast of Misfits
The Storm Commandos:
Kolson Vrask Simon Meinrad

The Mandalorian:
Amon Vizsla

The Pilot Without a Ship:
Vitani Azumi

The Commandos:
Trevin Neros Bayaz

Green Jedi:
Gala Geert Kir Dantos

BIIIIG Ship:
Shattered_Mirror

Yung Admiral
Zahara Myneto

(I thought people didn't like the notifications, re-added and let me know if you don't!)
​

 

[Simon Meinrad]

“Fuck,” was all he could mutter when the Sith were alerted of their presence and squads of Legionnaires moving in to close on their position. Probably a whole platoon or so. Regular infantry against special forces, and outnumbering the latter? There would be casualties amongst their squad...all for some Mandalorians and terrible intel.

What a waste, truly.

“On it,” he replied without hesitating to think to his lieutenant. Survival was the game now if they were to accomplish their objective. At this rate that objective might be futile with these odds against them. If their presence was well aware by this unit, it was most likely it was announced to all other platoons. It was delicate for a lack of a better word.

Mounting on the E-Web turret, Crik pivoted and turned the aim of the turret towards the wave of Legionnaires approaching. Blasters and fires came from the enemy. It made sense why the flame troopers, a means of destroying their environment and limit them in blending in with their environment. On top of that, entrap them in a circle of fire. He trusted his comrades would take care of the others while he gave all hell to the flame troopers. Relentlessly he fired on to them, careful not overheating the instrument.

“Get some!”

Another burst.

“Get some!”

Eventually he would get the attention of several Legionnaires with them concentrating their aim on Crik, suppressing fire in hopes to suspend his barrage. But he wouldn’t. Doing so would just bring the death to him and his squad. A lucky shot hit him in the shoulder, the armor absorbing the hit but it would leave him sore and slightly bruised.

“Get some!”

And again with his barrage.

Amon Vizsla | Kolson Vrask ​

 

[Vitani Azumi]

"I take the pliers off the wiring and we explode." Amon stated grimly to Captain Azumi. Behind the T-visor lied a worried and angry face.

Azumi gritted her teeth as she peeped up from cover. She saw more Sith on the approach. They were unending, what the kriff were they trying so hard to defend out here? She shot a blaster bolt in their direction, hoping to offer a distraction while The Viszla rigged the starfighter.
Azumi ducked down behind cover as Trevin Neros and his men approached. He was hit.

"The Mando took the last of my bacta," she said. Her voice was wavering behind the vocabulator.

Again, she poked her head out and fired. Every effort felt utterly futile. She slumped behind cover again. Her fear quickly devolved into anger. This was a disaster and an avoidable one.

"You've dug your own grave," she hissed, "Alliance sculag! You have wasted the lives of dozens of Imperial men and women. I doubt anybody within your weak, childish Alliance will see you held accountable for your actions!"

 

[Gala Geert]

FORNAX // GLYTHE SECTOR // MIDNIGHT SQUAD - TWILIGHT? STARS AT NIGHT IDK
Combat Armour // Rifle // Vibroblade // Vibrosword
OH NO​

Drawing in a final gasp and rectifying her grip on the environment, the Mirialan resumed an active stance. Digging her heels into the muck, and flexing her legs to withstand the eruption of the earth that exploded dirt, muck, flesh, and armour skyward. Her teeth gnashed in frustration at the dismality of the situation.

And it got worse.

The thunder behind her breastbone rivalled the waning ache in her stomach, and she quickly looked around at the silver glints that rolled in on her position. Grip tightened around the hilts of both her blades.
They were for nought now. These opponents were brutality in it's most finessed form. Quickly they may their intentions know with furious plasma streaks.

"Watch it Gala!"

Disorienting their aim was their best bet. With the glowsticks bucko at her side, she used the distraction of his whirling rod and activated her pack to launch herself upward. Automatic and precise shots sliced through the shin and tricep plates of her armour, stunting the grace of her ascension to something more jittery and bit with angry and pained yelps. She had to get the height.

Up above the gossamer blue orb that surrounded the quadripedal death machines with impenetrable protection, Gala hovered. Her Jetpack sputtered and sparked against the onslaught, and her meagre arm shield did little to deter the shots. Her armour was smoking and smouldering, the white plating cracked and bore streaks of black carbonized testimony to the retribution delivered by the droids.

From her vantage point, she was able to navigate, left-right-left-up-down in erratic patterns that disoriented some the droids the Jedi missed disabling. At a measured pace, enough to penetrate the shields from above, those electromagnetic vibroswords pierced the dome of the shields. Cutting through the protection and into the tops of the droidekas. Metal through metal, sparks, and other machine-centric spurts evidenced. One collapsed. She hovered, reorienting.

"The heads. They're vulnerable at their HEADS!" She shouted above the merciless salvo of the droids between herself and Kir Dantos . As soon as the weakness was exploited and communicated, an all too perfect shot connected with the jetpack attached to her shoulders and combusted the helpful back accessory, and sent the sergeant spiralling into the mud on a collision course at the feet of her adversaries. Flames licked up her back, singing her emerald cropped hair and the nape of her neck while she wildly attempted to make use of the weapons on her hands, whipping, cutting, slicing at the pointed peds of the droids that had serendipitously rolled into their position.

All the while thinking how un-karking real this was.

On her back, she wriggled and squirmed until the fire-consumed repulsorpack was disconnected from her armour and she was able to roll to her stomach, pressing the pack forward and sending it spiralling into the belly of one of the bots; the speed not so accelerated that the shield would reject it. Engulfed in flames, the second droid by her hand whirled erratically before the superheated discharge consumed its cannons and it was rendered useless.

"This is bad, Jedi. Real bad. You got a plan?"

Plans were above Gala's paygrade.