Dominion Iron Cage | Occupation of Orinackra | NIO

[Seydou of Thyrsus]

// ANOOBA //
// OBJECTIVE // GOLD BLOOM
// TAGS // Aerarii Tithe Trajan Fett Ra Vizsla Redmond Geller

"You'll know the signal to breach when you hear it." and with that simple statement Amon paced away from the infiltration team followed by Six-Six.

His idea was clear the moment he led them to where their whole view was the main entry to the Tower.

<<"All guns blazing through the front. Flush the target out through where Kurze and Ra are.">> he told the stormtrooper.

<<"Let's go.">>

Using his repulsorpack, the Mandalorian dropped down from the wall straight towards the guards at the front. The darksaber came to life with an eerie snap hiss finding its prey quickly - the heart of one of the guards.

Chaos ensued.

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

Location: Governor’s Residence, Orinackra
Objective: II - Operation: Gold Bloom
Kit: Skystas Rieve iv Tave Daboti Dvasi | Vokti Mekn iv Siarbras Naudot | Sith-Imperial Military Uniform
Assets: Alejandro Chadian
Liabilities: Amon Vizsla | Ra Vizsla | Trajan Fett | Redmond Geller | NIO
Post: II

---

The tactical holo continued to ding silently as contact was lost with more Legionnaires. The tones were less frequent than he would have expected - whoever had been dispatched the collect him were not blowing their way through the front door. Not that it made a difference to the Moff - his capture was inevitable at this point.

A call came in from Moff Alejandro Chadian , the governor of Sector Group IV. With the imprisonment of Grand Moff Madelyn Lowe both of the men were currently without a superior. Word was that the new governor of Oversector One, which encompassed both their territories, would be announced shortly.

“One last attempt to see that some good comes from this war,” Tithe explained. A serverdroid brought him a crystal goblin containing the same vintage as Alejandro was enjoying from the safety of his shuttle. Tithe raised the glass to the fellow Aargauun before taking a mouthful.

While the New Imperials had made their plans for Bastion and the Sith Empire well known, an eleventh-hour agreement was not out of the question. Tithe had negotiated deals from worst bargaining positions in the past.

 

[Gordon]

I R O N C A G E
Death Row​

Pain is all that filled Gordon's consciousness, blocking even the remote possibility of forming a coherent idea or sentence in his mind. His other senses of touch, smell, sight, and hearing were completely muted, his nerves overwhelmed and tormented with an overload of electricity. His mind was desperately screaming and agonizing for the pain to cease but mustering the strength to scream or beg was long gone.

His captors seemed to have no interest in interrogating Gordon for any information, deeming him a lowly officer that had been tossed between both sides of the war. He was simply an example, and even then, they probably didn't bother to publicize his suffering. Torture for the sake of torture, like a mindless task that needed to be completed in one fashion or another. Perhaps he was just a bored warden's past time as full-body cyborgs were rare, but at this point, it was clear that even they lost interest.

Left to succumb to pain and accept death alongside others who got in the way of the Sith, he was long forgotten and thrown on the backburner. He recalled his days desiccating on that lifeless rock many years prior, the husk of his former body barely clinging to life with the help of his Force abilities. During his time in the Sith Empire, he learned that he was able to utilize a variant form of mechu-deru, which was considered a Dark side practice but Gordon never felt any darkness or intense negative emotions when using his abilities. He felt nothing, just the simple will to survive.

But now, all he felt was pain. A sensation he was accustomed to, but the Sith had millions of years to master and perfect the art of inflicting pain. His nerves were pumped with neurotoxins to enhance his perception of pain, and he could feel the Dark side imbued in the gloomy atmosphere of the prison's inner most bowels. It festered and thrived in the collective anguish of its half-dead inhabitants, corrupting their minds and bodies. It produced despair in even the strongest of wills and Gordon was no exception.

In this moment, however, the pain ceased and the droids were gone.

Something had changed.

He took a deep breath and opened his one remaining eye. The Force swelled as parts and components began dismantling from the surrounding walls and tools around him, slowly levitating toward him.

"They should have killed me when they had the chance."

 

[Redmond Geller]

// Basilisk //
// Objective //: GOLD BLOOM
// FOCUS //: Aerarii Tithe , Amon Vizsla, Ra Vizsla , Trajan Fett

Words were not spoken, when the first man cried out, they moved. Up and over the wall pulled by grapples, two of the five took up places on the wall, and brought rifles to bear, the other three came down around the saber wielding Mandalorian. There was the briefest pause as the Legionnaires they'd once fought alongside stared at their attackers. Glowing red visors, armed to the teeth, and between Redmond and his two men, a Mandalorian holding the Darksaber itself.

He could not touch the force, but he did not doubt they felt fear.

His rifle cracked twice, blaster bolts cutting down one Legionnaire, the men following suit. In a blur the courtyard became engulfed in chaos. Men dropped like flies as the sharpshooters opened up, and Redmond rushed to cover, bashing a hostile in his way across the jaw with the butt of his rife then wrenching him into the line of fire. The man was ripped apart by friendly fire in Redmond's stead.

This was what he was meant for.

 

[Trajan Fett]

// MANCATCHER //
// OBJECTIVE //: GOLD BLOOM
// FOCUS //: Aerarii Tithe | Amon Vizsla | Ra Vizsla | Redmond Geller | Alejandro Chadian
Armor x | Rifle | Pistol | Melee | Grenades

Time to go. Amon lit the fuse and started the rush. As what seemed to be tradition. All the better, meant the Sons didn't have to play this game of hiding all much too longer. It was time to hunt and once the avenue was open to the thread the needle, Trajan surged well and into the chaos. Whatever delusion he had of keeping his sniper equipped fell to the way side once the action began. As they said, once the looting starts, the shooting starts.

His disruptor carbine swung out into his hands again as he aimed down the sights and unfurled the crack of a three round pulse into the chest of a legionnaire. He never had any issues pulling the trigger on them, the Sith Legionnaires. Unlike a great deal of those he fought beside in the New Imperial Order, who had held some humanization of their former comrades, former countrymen. These fucks took his home, his life. They'd die like the rest of them standing between him and vengeance.

<"Keep moving, we're hitting the tower. Can't give our mark time to escape."> He knew Tithe well enough to know every second they gave him, he'd use. He was slick and no one was better at evading the heat than him. Slamming his shoulder behind cover he glanced up to pull one of the entrances to the tower into view before glancing the way of Redmond Geller opposite of him.

Motioning his head toward the tower, he surged out from cover into the main apex of the compound.

Time to go.

 

[IMPCOM]

// ANTON CASSEL // Stormtrooper Captain
// OBJECTIVE //: IRON CAGE
// FOCUS //: Grigory Tallis | Gordon | Salvor Thul

The baton sent a jolt of pain into his abdomen from the blow which sent him staggering back before he regained his strength enough for Anton to charge forward and pull the prisoner down to the ground of the open hallway into a full bodied tackle. That cold metallic corridor reminded it far too much of Cassel Point, the same screams, the same crack of blaster fire. When he felt that shiver of cold memory wash over him, pulled his legs on either side of the prisoner's hips before he began to concentrate all physical effort into one of his fists and proceed to punch the man into a bloodied pulp.

Anyone who might've gone through training and battle with him might've never imagined him in this light, a man typically softer spoken, comfortable more in the Combat Information Center rather than the battle proper. Yet here he was, invoking the cold embrace of death unto a man he'd never know. Taking up the baton he'd deliver a bloody coup de grace into his skull before standing back up.

It was time to leave. He'd been put in chains at Borosk, he'd not tolerate this tortured tenure in capitivity any longer.

It was time to make the Sith bleed again. Bringing the baton to another prisoner's skull he sent him down cold in the corridor of Death Row. Being an enemy officer who refused to talk, refused to defect he was t-minus eighteen hours from a blaster bolt behind the ear.

 

[Gat Tambor]

// GAT "SSD" TAMBOR //
// OBJECTIVE //: GOLD BLOOM | In Orbit
// FOCUS //: Aerarii Tithe

---

---

---

His position as the Director of the Trade Federation had made Gat Tambor privy to a great deal of military movements within the Braxant Run as the chain of supply demanded it.

It was no secret Orinackra was next on the radar of Imperial High Command. Emerging from hyperspace, Gat Tambor stood aboard the command bridge of his Lucrehulk IV, the Pillar of Annihilation in waiting...waiting for any sort've call of distress from his counterpart in Aerarii Tithe while he was ultimately...well he wouldn't lose a great deal of sleep if he ended up dead in New Imperial custody, he trusted that even the Order realized how much of an asset Tithe might be alive.

Regardless, the Skakoan would be assuredly present to make certain of a harmless capture.

 

[Gordon]

I R O N C A G E

Ord Mantrell​

​

Ever since he left that lifeless planet he called a home two years ago, Gordon hid his ability to use the Force, even if his life depended on it. He could of used his abilities sooner, but as a budding initiate in the grand scope of Force users, he would be of little match to the Sith Empire's rich and deep history with Sith. Even in the bowels of this prison, he felt the sinister presence of the Sith lurking within, perhaps feeding off the suffering of its inhabitants or fueling some ritual with its collective malice. He could even feel the subtle whisperings of the Dark side that goaded him toward desperation and desolation, coaxing him that accepting death would grant a painless death.

His will would not be so easily broken, and his gathered the last reserves of energy he had to hobble together roughly made cybernetics to enable him to limp around and protect his exposed nerves. He would have to search around for better replacements, perhaps a broken droid or an abandoned terminal. His former solid aurodium cybernetics were long gone, and he bemoaned the fact that they were most likely melted down and thrown in a vault. On the bright side, at least the secrets behind the technology would have been overlooked and erased.

Unhooking one of his shoulders, his body immediately crashed down and his other shoulder painfully groaned as the chain suspending it rang out and went taut. Pulling himself up and off the other hook, he collapsed onto the ground with his scrapped together legs and a short stump of an arm. Dragging himself toward the torture table, he began stripping it of its tools and parts, integrating them into his legs and arm to better hold his weight and have some utility.

Now able to limp around, he made his way toward the door and opened it, exiting the room into an equally silent hallway. At this point, he realized that his aural sensors were long gone and that he would only be able to rely on sight to make his way out.

The Prison Gang:
IMPCOM Shaze DK-03 ​

 

[Grigory Tallis]

Allies: IMPCOM | Gordon | Salvor Thul | DK-03 | Shaze | Corran Watts | Detritus Ren
Objective: The Iron Cage.

Grigory stared at the prison perimeter. No signal yet. He tapped his foot against the stony earth and scowled, grinding his teeth together. Useless imperial knights. Stupid stormtroopers. Sent to take his glory, and couldn't even get him a bloody word back. This was supposed to be the army's day! Grigory waited another minute, and then holstered the macrobinoculars with a huff. He turned back to his staff, "Load the first volley," Tallis snapped with a rancorous impatience. That was that then. No more waiting. Time for the whirlwind. "Rhyp shot. Ready to burn." The Major growled. The soldiers scrambled back to the battery, and Grigory turned his attentions back to the prison perimeter. He scowled again. Nothing on the comms line, turning on his commlink, he began to broadcast to his comrades in arms.

"Alright, given you've all gone quiet on me, I'll assume you're ready. First volley primed and ready to fire." He clicked off, and then zoomed in, and out, "Battery!" He bellowed, "Fire, approximately, five hundred meters..... Now!" The fire of the mortars was less an explosive bellow, and more of a distinct 'pop'. A series of them followed. Grigory watched the prisons guards. He grinned deviously as he watched one of the guards, on some sort of rest break above the security gate drop his water flask, and then look to the sky. He heard the distant fear, and then an explosion. Flame and fire tore over the gate. The two watch towers above the gate exploded, with Sith Imperials tumbling out of the towers, bodies engulfed with the rich and thick concoction of rhypalm.

Now the alarms began to blare and scream, as the fire began to spread up and across the perimeter gate, around and around. The Iron Cage was about to be encircled, in a ring of fire. "Give them another round." Grigory cackled with devious glee, "See how they cook."

 

[Corran Watts]

Operation Iron Cage
Location: Just Outside Prison Facility
Allies: Grigory Tallis IMPCOM Shaze Salvor Thul Detritus Ren

The reception from Grigory Tallis was less than receptive but Corran was growing more and more accustomed to things like this. He did not understand the disdain for the Imperial Knights, they were simply trying to help, and yet they were met with the ire of the troops. As if it was his fault he was born with the ability to influence the force. What more could he do to curb their sentiments? He had been nothing but loyal to the group since his joining and he was always willing to help, and yet, they still turned a cold shoulder to him. He hoped that by standing out on this day things would change, but deep down, he knew it was not something that would be overcome so easily.

"Move out," Corran said to his squad as they followed the Major and positioned themselves adjacent to his group. Another Imperial Knight appeared alongside Corran and asked what the plan of attack was. He recognized him, only barely, but then again he was just now beginning to integrate within the ranks of the Knights. Corran peered out beyond the hill at the Prison and let out a sigh. "Plan of attack is fight alongside the Army. No use in trying to shake things up." He spoke to Detritus Ren respectfully but not in a suck up kind of way. More like, hey, we are from the same order why not get along?

His thoughts distracted him and an explosion rang out and Corran whipped his head to see they had started the assault. Corran shook his head and looked over to the Major and then down at his comms and realized that his comm feed had been jammed up. He looked back at the Sargent Major who stared straight ahead without making a motion and he realized that his squad had sabotaged his comms to make him look bad. His immediate response was anger, it flooded him, but he quickly quelled that feeling. It was no use at this point. Now they were to strike.

"Lets go!" Corran motioned for them to follow and over the hilltop he and his Stormtroopers charged down towards the prison. Explosions rang out in front of them as blaster fire began to ring as the groups approached the prison. The explosions had taken out the bulk majority of the guards but some were scrambling to their feet and returning fire back at them. It was no use, however, as the chaos and confusion created by the explosions was more than enough to help them approach remaining untouched. Once inside the prison gates, Corran would allow his stormtroopers to set up a perimeter around the prison and make sure there was no one hiding around there and he would take a small fire team inside. He figured the Army would send the bulk of the soldiers to help clear out the inside and he would keep the stormtroopers outside so that they could clear the inside of the prison.

As he approached the screams of dying men flooded his ears but it did not stop him. Navigating his men through the gates they were now on the inside of the prison walls and Corran quickly got to putting his men into place. They would set up along the walls that were not on fire and they quickly battled it out with the few men left alive. "Major Tallis, we will set up a perimeter out here while your men evacuate the prison," Corran said through his comms. "I will join with a small fireteam but we will follow your lead." Well, maybe if he gave him command over Corran he would be a bit more receptive to him.

 

[Stilicho Drumarch]

// Death Knell Actual //
// Operation: Iron Cage //
// Allies: Grigory Tallis @Coran Watts Detritus Ren

As the 3rd approached the prison the air above them whirred with the sound of the first mortar shot. Whizzing over them from behind, it torched the gate. Red emergency lights began to light up the night ahead of them and even more screaming was audible as the sounds of burning men drowned out the sounds of the riot further in. That strike was a good enough signal to go as any.

"Charge!" was his only order to his men as they stood watching the explosion unfold. The assault team broke into a sprint towards the baffled survivors of the first rhypalm strike and there was nothing they could do about the incoming onslaught of infantry and stormtroopers. Another strike landed not far from the burning gate sending more guards to their fiery demise and ensuring that there would be little to no wall to spare when the New Order finished here.

The path into the prison was a relentless hellscape. For the guards at least. For Sal and his people this was a necessary part of the war. Was it brutal? Absolutely. No soldier in red stopped to think before unloading his weapon on the hapless guards begging for mercy or already screaming in fiery pain. It was a crusade. Every loyalist they killed was one man closer to the Emperor and every soldier they rescued from here was a soldier who'd get them closer to Bastion. It was a worthy trade in Salvor's eyes.

When the Death Knell Chapter had joined the fight back on Dubrillion, Sal had wondered if the Sith-Imperial lives he took would belong to people he knew and once fought beside. He was certain then that he wasn't only the one with that thought but now that thought was small, relegated to the back of his mind. Yet, as the NIO seemed to tolerate his crusade a little more every day, he was starting to see that the lines in this war were clear cut...

 

[Aldritch Kaal]

// FN-138 'LAW' //
// Operation: Iron Cage //
// Focus: Grigory Tallis //
// ONE FINAL EFFORT //

I wasn't certain if inciting such a riot would lead to anything other than my death. Though, in truth, I didn't entirely care. If I was going to die, it wouldn't be on my knees with a blaster pressed the to back of my head. Succumbing prematurely to death didn't concern me at all, but dying as a helpless coward did. Until my heart stops beating, I'll never stop resisting; the only promise I can still keep to my Zur'reli'sabash. If something comes after this life, I wouldn't be able to face her. Her own mother, a coward, the portent of her demise.

The riot, which had started as a haphazard escape attempt eventually devolved into a series of turf skirmishes between us and the guards. What turned into a struggle between escaping and containment was now a constant struggle just to retain ground. No matter how hard we tried, we could not breach their perimeter, but nor could they regain hold of their vital facilities. Medical, communication, cafeteria, it all belonged to us now. Despite our best attempts, attempting to contact New-Imperial rescue on an encrypted S-IMP line was difficult when none of us knew anything beyond the bare minimum for communications.

They only kept Kolto in the Iron Cage, and keeping focused through the immense pain of my wounds had been inordinately challenging. I can't recall how many times I'd lost consciousness or vomited while fighting and moving. Regardless, I pressed on despite my body's protests. The comms tower had been our makeshift command center, the verticality making it much easier to hold. It also gave us an early alert that the New-Imperial forces were coming. Although every attempt to contact them flew right under their radar as unimportant chatter.

It took hours of tweaking and fidgeting with the communications consoles before we could finally hear them.

"This is Major Grigory Tallis, of fifty seventh platoon, my men and myself are currently positioned opposite the prisons secondary gate, about.... About four hundred and fifty meters from the the prison perimeter. We have a few surprises that may be able to get the jump our Sith friends down there. But, for any assault to be successful, we hit them at once. Once your boys are ready, signal us, and we'll light a fire under their arses."

I wasn't sure if they would be able to hear me, but a hit the button and gave it a shot. "Major Tallis, this is First Lieutenant Zur'Shaze'Alorn of the PURGE corps. We have a fortified position within the Iron Cage's comms tower, can you read me?" I waited, trying to stifle any sense of hope that might breed further stress if an answer didn't come. And, as I expected, it didn't. Frantically I began flicking switches and changing values on the holoscreen. I only had the vaguest of inclinations about what I was doing, but I felt determined nonetheless. I shouted into the receiver over and over with every change trying to get through.

"Alright, given you've all gone quiet on me, I'll assume you're ready. First volley primed and ready to fire."

Again I shouted into the receiver, "Major Tallis th-" I was suddenly rocked by the force of an explosion. Glassteel viewports on the comms tower cracked and bowed, and my feet were swept out from underneath me. The pain in my abdomen made my vision blur, and the hair that had fallen into my face wasn't doing my vision any favors either. I managed to hobble my way back to the comms console, this time as I shouter several indicators lit up brightly. They could finally hear me.

"Major Tallis watch your FUCKING fire!" I screamed, my composure succumbing to my pain and stress. I would worry about repercussions later, for now, I had to keep myself and the several dozen New-Imperials counting on me alive.

 

[DK-03]

Operation : Iron Cage

Explosions erupted outside as the old man stood up, staring at the wall in the direction of the sounds. "Young blood-" he stammered, looking over to the Darktrooper who had been kneeled and sobbing. There was clearly an aura of riot in the air, as the prison itself seemed to churn to life, and prisoners who had escaped from their cells were beginning to run around unchecked outside their cells.

When the old man's eyes scanned, he did not see the Darktrooper at the position he last left him. No, DK-03 was gone completely from sight. Was the old man mad? Had he finally lost his senses, or was his mind finally taking it's leave?

Upside down, the large domed helmet of DK-03 began to slowly lower outside the prison door and into view. It rotated 360 degrees, defying all physiology and gravity as the bulky trooper just sat there for a while as if from a horror movie, spinning his head.

"You're safe in here," the Darktrooper rumbled.

The old man began to relieve himself in his pants, out of fear.

"Actually you're probably not safe in here, you should leave."

The domed helmet of the Darktrooper started raising back out of view, the rest of his body never seen.

The old man looked from the gate to the wall, then back to the gate.

What in the fu-

 

[Ra Vizsla]

// MANCATCHER //
// OBJECTIVE //: GOLD BLOOM
// FOCUS //: Aerarii Tithe | Amon Vizsla | Ra Vizsla | Redmond Geller | Alejandro Chadian

<<C R A S H>>

Ra erupted through the uppermost window of the tower, gashing one guard with a cut of his now drawn darksaber as a beskad was thrown through the air to plunge in the chest of another guard. Their cover blown, it was time to move swift - the pincer movement would blow their cover entirely and the alarms would begin sounding. But it was too late - the Commandos were in place, and the execution was underway.

Ra began marching up the steps and towards the inner halls of the Governor's mansion. Their target was somewhere in here, but none of the Special Forces had identified exactly where yet. His duty was to currently clear the rooms and and begin identifying subjects. The Vice Governorship was also likely about in here, as was the family and close friends of the Governor.

"First hallway clear," Ra uttered, assured that alarms had now been sounded.

"Clearing way to comms, cover the exits."

Ra threw down another guard.

"Moving," Ra moved into the comms room.

 

[Volgin Alto]

// VIDAGE //
// OBJECTIVE //: IRON CAGE
// FOCUS //: Grigory Tallis | Gordon | Salvor Thul | Shaze

"C'mere you buckethead fuck!" A brazen inmate barked out in anger to Cassel before a blade sliced through his arm. Makeshift, cobbled together from sharpened duraplast likely peeled off of some container. It stung but it was a shallow laceration, one easily subdued by the rush of adrenaline that flowed through the Stormtrooper's veins.

It was fitting that in spite of the chaos, even the most apathetic of the inmates turned on the Stormtroopers captured from Borosk and along the front of the war with the Sith Empire. The guards stationed here did well at shifting the sights on the New Imperial prisoners of war. Anytime a food shipment was late, it was their comrades trying to break them out. Anytime the ration portions were stingy, it was their fault for eating it all up. Anytime the curfew was made earlier, it was because they'd taken away the privileges from everyone else. Anything to stirr up the rabble into antagonizing another group that wasn't these watchmen.

A beaming blow of the baton to the side of the man's skull sent him faltering to the ground unconscious. The brief respite from the chaos shifted Cassel's attention to the man who'd just emerged from his cell into the corridor. He looked like death. Being mostly cyborg as he seemed to be there was no doubt the Sith picked, prodded and damaged the cybernetics as a means of some sadistic torture to dehumanize him.

He rushed to his side. He'd be there for this one, even if he'd been captured, forced to abandon what was left of his men.

Granted the chance of a feint redemption, he'd take it. Moving an arm up under the man's shoulder to keep him stable he'd proceed to lead the pair along out of this corridor.

"Cmon...stay with me. Looks like we're getting out." Anton said, his words falling on deaf ears. Or deaf aural implants at this rate.

 

[Rurik Fel]

// PARABOL //
// OBJECTIVE //: IRON CAGE
// FOCUS //: Corran Watts | Detritus Ren

The fire rises. The night broke out into the whirlwind of chaos set out by the prisoners within the Iron Cage. It was a spectacle to behold in certainty. But he was not here to lead the charge through the breach, silver saber in hand to cut through the marauding prisoners within this facility to free his comrades.

He was here to observe.

As Rurik had been a Jedi once he was able to hone his patience as a teacher in the force. Even if the Imperial Knights had shed its otherworldly properties and secrets down to the pure utility it could offer. Standing atop a jagged peak to which the Iron Cage facility was nestled in the shadow of, the son of two lineages crossed precariously watched intently.

Two of the Order's own, born into muddied legacies themselves were the focus of Rurik's shadowy presence here as he looked to see how they would endure the fires of war, the manic chaos.

Now was a far better time to test their mettle than let the full might of the Sith do it for them in Ravelin.

 

[Gordon]

I R O N C A G E

Prison Break​

​

As Gordon stumbled out into the corridor, his remaining eye swept sluggishly around the various details of his new environment. Looking down the hall toward the deeper parts of the prison, it seemed that prisoners had been mass-executed as blood oozed out from beneath their cell doors, with less and less blood appearing as he looked out of his immediate cell. Bloody footprints and droplets of blood became fainter and fresher as they approached from farther down the hallway, leading to the conclusion that their Sith wardens probably kept at their perversely violent ways until time was running out, opting for less messy and faster executions. He could only assume that he was left alone as he seemed dead enough for the Sith to move onto other prisoners.

As he looked down the other way toward the exit, he spotted the first inmate who was alive, blood dripping from his arm and fresh, bloodied bruises spotted all over his body. He felt a bit awkward as he was scooped into a half carry out of the corridor, passing by another unconscious inmate knocked out cold. The assistance was more than welcomed, easing the strain on his hastily constructed legs, but his ego was nicked at the reality that Gordon was only a few blows away from being re-dismantled into a pile of scrap.

Looking at the man as he spoke to him, he could not quite make out what he was saying by reading his lips, but his general demeanor suggested firm resolution and a tinge of pity mixed with concern. He could take that as a sign he was a friendly and most likely an Imperial. Maybe a Jedi though. Gordon didn't have any understanding about the prison population as he was isolation since his arrival, so relying on this other inmate seemed to be the best course of action.

He introduced himself, leaking out a glitched and wildly inconsistent garble in response.

"...M...nAm...E...iiiii...G-o-R/////Do-N...N...V...7777777...Re----...l...eEEee..."

The Prison Gang:
Anton Cassel​

 

[Avernus]

// DEEP SPACE - SOMEWHERE //
// ABOARD THE TURBO L.O.V.E.R //
// OPERATION: GOLD BLOOM //
// Aerarii Tithe //

Now now, Billy, not really.
​

The holographic image of Orinackra rotated idly before Avernus' throne within the TURBO L.O.V.E.R's bridge. With a leisurely roll of the wrist, he swirled the vermillion liquor within the crystalline glass that rested within his left hand. The right tossed a Korribanian Bloodfruit up and down, fidgeting with a subtle impatience as his thralls employees performed their operations. Tipping and tapping away at their consoles, they made every attempt they could to crack the encryption for the frequency which the comms and PA systems of Tithe's compound operated.

"My Lord, we believe we've acquired the frequency," came news from an AvCorp™ uniformed Sephi. Her surly intonation mirroring military discipline rather than the expected corporate flattery.

"Believe?"

"The only way to be certain is to send our tramission and observe the results."

"Very well, Commodore Schleetus. Send it."

"My Lord, if I may interject-?"

Avernus turned his head to peer half-way over his shoulder. A stocky Togruta loomed overhead, face awash with displeasure skepticism. Only a raise of the brow was offered from the Avernus in response.

"I don't believe this method has any merit. If I may be so bold, I recommend we make our capabilities more useful and hijack the- "

The Torgurta's naysaying was cut short as Avernus merely lifted a finger in his direction. Body entirely limp, lifeless, his frame collapsed to the floor with a thud. Avernus sighed, catching the bloodfruit with that same hand just in time as it plummeted back towards the arm of the chair. He turned to look ahead at the hologram once again, seeming entirely apathetic to the macabre display.

"Wh-what happened!?" Commodore Schleetus inquired frantically.

Her words were met with the crunching and subsequent squishing of the fruit beneath the clamp of Avernus' jaw. "Hm?" Cerulean irises lead his head back to the sight of the now lifeless bridge officer. "Oh- He died," the Sith clarified, speaking obnoxiously with his mouth full.

"J-just like that!?"

"Just like that."

"You didn't even-? There was nothing, he just-?" Schleetus was visibly sweating at the sight of Avernus.

"Are you going to send the transmission, Commodore?"

"Y-yes my lord."

The order was given, and with only a few touches of a holoconsole, the infinite looping transmission was sent BLASTING through space. Should it find purchase, the entire complex would be subject to an ever-looping blast of campy, pre-Yavin mid-rim dance music. "You can't hide in there forever," Avernus hissed under his breath.

"I-I do not wish to question your methods, my Lord. I only wish to know wh-what we do if Tithe likes it?"

"He won't."

 

[Volgin Alto]

// VIDAGE //
// OBJECTIVE //: IRON CAGE
// FOCUS //: Gordon

GoR-DON it was then. But there was no time to piece anything else together. The two could make their acquaintance once they weren’t confined within the cold walls of this horrid cage. Maybe if it was New Imperials after all breaching the front to try and stir chaos behind enemy lines they'd be able to get a word in on the ride home. Or at the very least, on the ride far away from here, likely to new assignments.

"Gotcha..." Anton said to fill the gap in the silence left by his pained screech of syllables vaguely resembling basic speech. They had a moment's respite as they continued through the corridor, the Stormtrooper setting Gordon aside if only to swipe the keycard from a fallen sentry.

The next door lit green only to make room for chaos to swell in his sights once more.

Another Sith sentry was baring the brunt of the collected rage instilled into two of the inmates, each of them beating the man to a bloodied pulp. He had to leave Gordon aside again before moving forward warily.

His foot slammed into the back of one of their knees to send him off his footing and forward into the floor in pain before the harsh smack of the baton against his brain pan sent him unconscious. The other turned to try for his gut with a shiv only for Anton to manage to grasp that wrist just as the duraplast punctured his abdomen.

A pained groan marked the beginning of his retort before his chin was bruised in the immediate wake of the baton charging up and slamming into his jaw. Knocked out cold, all that was left was the bloodied guard who whimpered in mercy.

Though unfortunately, he might prove far too familiar to Gordon, being one of the few who took particular interest in his suffering.

 

[Trajan Fett]

// MANCATCHER //
// OBJECTIVE //: GOLD BLOOM
// FOCUS //: Aerarii Tithe | Amon Vizsla | Ra Vizsla | Redmond Geller | Alejandro Chadian
Armor x | Rifle | Pistol | Melee | Grenades

Ra let his entrance be known, as he had the tendency to do. And so began the clear, the ascent. Each pitiful guard in their path a momentary barrier between the New Imperial Mandalorians and their mark. With his disruptor carbine in hand, they dropped dead all too easy. Three or five round pulse for each as the golden particle beams of flesh disentegrating power always seemed enough to do the trick of eating through the black duraplast and into the flesh beneath.

<"Copy."> Trajan responded to Ra's assurance of a cleared corridor as Trajan took point down another.

<"Hey!-"> One of the Sith-Imperial sentries shouted out before another pulse of disruptor rounds scraped clean any sign of his existence, the mere ashes piling in the black and crimson plated steel beneath.

He'd found a lift, to bring the Mandalorians upward where without a doubt, Tithe would be waiting.

<"Found our way up, let's move. Can't let the Moff slip away...but...what music is that?"> Kurze spoke through the comms before once the others had joined him he slammed the button to take them upwards to whatever floor might indicate his office, suite, anything.

While Imperial High Command stressed alive and unharmed, the Sons of Mandalore had done all they could to uphold their end of the deal. It was up to Tithe not to ruin his. The lift doors slowly opened to reveal whatever lay next.