Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Jungle Fever [TSE Dominion of Florn]

Tabigarashu Madara

Good things come in smol packages
Hirou has seen, up close and personally, what the death cultists of Mirial had wrought in flesh and blood.

This, while not necessarily comfortable was not disturbing in the same way.

This was life. Simple biology. Sure on a grand and frankly intimidating scale, but Hirou was also used to everything being far too large to be allowed. The main part that was a touch disturbing for the Nezumi was the fact that they were INSIDE a living thing, and hadn't been eaten to get there. Honestly it was always how Hirou had expected to go. The being eaten part. It was a fairly common death for Nezumi, after all. So this was weird primarily in that sort of primal 'I am here as a guest, not as a meal' way and they were doing their best to handle that on their end.

"I would like that, please," Hirou said with a nod.

"A little. All academic I am afraid. The Force is not something I have been graced with the ability to wield." There was no chagrin there, no jealousy or sadness in the comment. It was simply reality, and Hirou did not actually consider themselves LESS for not having that conscious connection.

"I have recently been studying- with the help of some excellent authors I might add."

Hirou's library consisted of almost a dozen volumes by now, all of which they had read in detail.

[member="Cerbera"]
 
[member="Tabigarashu Madara"]

"Oh? Perhaps we can share notes then, I am an avid reader myself."

It was one of the things that had originally brought herself and [member="Darth Ophidia"] close to one another. The love for academia and the pursuit of literary knowledge. If Cerbera remembered correctly the first meeting of theirs they had shared their mutual joy over a particularly rare book on Ophi's bookcase. That had been a pleasant affair, concluded with equally pleasant tea. Mmm, that tea had been quite delicious as well. "I have been doing some experiments with Force transfer as well, darling, if you desire a connection to the Force I will keep you in mind for the next test stages?"

The offer was freely given and relaxed without much tension behind it.

Perhaps for some it might have been an astonishing feat, but for Cerbera... just another taungday, really. Another set of doors that folded in with a shiver, before letting them into her personal laboratories. These were far less... clean than the ones the alchemist had met Cassandra at.

Far closer to the heart of her skills.

It positively oozed with the darkside, but at the very least there weren't vivisected corpses lying around, no? As they stepped in, Hirou might notice that they weren't the only ones in the room. Instead it was already occupied by four smol critters. Tittering to one another, working on their own projects, but their attention diverting the moment Hirou and Cerbera stepped in. They bowed (as best as they could) and Cerbera smiled warmly at them.

"Hirou, meet my children. Children, meet Hirou. If you want you could chat with them for a bit? I will get the terminal ready so I can show you my work in the meantime."
 

Ari Zanareth

Guest
A
Objective: BYOO: Cement Relations- Secretly Acquire some business.
Location: Lamproid Counsel Structure

Later in the evening she rose from her meditative trance. Arms uncrossed, legs uncrossed and her eyes flicked open. The irises ladden with the bright yellowish orange that was typical of the darkside. From her nearby table she grabbed her lightsaber, concealing it in a holster at the small of her back and threw a cloak above her head, allowing the matte black to drown out the dark olive green fatigues.

The crept through the window, and leaped, taking momentary flight from rooftop to rooftop, using the force to slow and muffle her falls. She crept along a banister and slipped into the first window, standing still like a gargoyle, perched just on the sill.

This was the first.

The one whom had defied her offer and tried to sway the Chieftain.

Her lips curled into a nasty grin.
Not so proud and strong whilst you sleep are you now my friend....

From her back the small glimmer of metallic cylinder came forth, then burst to life a scarlet blade. The snap-hissss and the flash of light ignited the Lamproids senses, bringing him stock straight, claws outstretched, one of his arms reaching fro a blaster near his bed.

She swept it out of his grasp with the force, then snarled.

There was a thrum as the blade swished, impaling him to the wall, her body crossing the distance from sill to bed with unnatural speed.

And then the night was still once more.....
 
Objective: Obtain Nerve Implants, Survive (III)
Location: Raxus, Sith-Imperial Marshalling Station
Post No. 1
Allies: [member="Zeric Parcra"]

The Raxus system was something of a galaxy intrigue. Rich in galactic history, it had prominently been the capital of numerous empires and coalitions; the Allied Tion Empire and the Confederacy of Independent Systems. It's original inhabited planet, Raxus Prime, had succumbed to countless millennia of waste and neglect and was little more than a junk pit. The desert planet of Raxus Secundus was impressive, sure, but its days of glory had long past and the only significance to any outsider was the minor marshaling station hovering above the planet. Of course, to Captain Has Zellos of the Kaas's Pride, a Xo'Xaan II-class Star Destroyer, the system had much more to offer if you knew where to look.

In its disrepair and large ignorance by most of the galaxy, different pirate coalitions and cartels across the galaxy had taken to Raxus Prime like a fish would to shallow water; there they were protected from scrutiny and allowed to do as they please, and significant shadowports had sprouted throughout the planet over the many years, an uncontrollable disease that no faction or government wished to remedy. In other circumstances, had Zellos found out about this pirate alcove Raxus Prime would've burned with the Kaas's Pride hovering in low orbit. Yet this mission required inside intelligence, and Zellos knew that so close to Florn, Raxus Prime would have the data he needed. A few weeks earlier, he and a cadre of captains in the area had been briefed of the Florn situation: as usual, the Sith Empire had taken to the resource-rich planet and thus the planet must be contained from outside interference. Raxus, with multiple egress points to the jungle world, had become a location of prime interest and explained the shabby although powerful marshaling station in orbit and several Star Destroyers, with smaller support ships, in tow. Overkill for a bunch of pirates was Has Zellos's first thought, but on inquiring further he began to doubt his original assessment.

The cartel, apparently a group calling themselves the Lost Souls, was transferring dangerous and highly illegal nerve implants to various pirate and insurgent groups, something that High Command could simply not allow to continue. Even in the least bothersome of unfriendlies, the hyperaccelerated cranial implants could make an ace out of an untrained pilot, and pose a serious threat to the domestic security of the Empire. The Raxus fleet had been instructed to not interfere, that containing Florn was their first and foremost priority; Zellos, however, would not want such an opportunity to make him look good in front of High Command, or daresay a promotion, escape him and had taken personally to finding and tracking down the pirate scum with the cranial implants. That's what found him on the marshalling station looking at a broken down and repainted Gozanti-class cruiser.
 
Location: Florn
Allies: [member="Sebastian Thel"]
Objective: BYOO

A cough came out of the Inquisitor as he took in his first cigarette, a small cloud of smoke coming out of his mouth.

”Hell I was thinking?”

Oddly enough he didn’t toss it away after his first dissatisfaction with the bundle of tobacco. The man cradled it between his index and middle finger, taking some time before trying it again. Should have at least the courtesy to finish at least this joint, not to mention he didn’t accept defeat or failure easily. Discarding the cigarette would deem so for him, and went in for another inhale from the cigarette.

This time he was a bit more successful. Less cough than his first go.

Why the sudden habit of smoking? He was curious which was Bline’s main reason why he purchased a pack of them. And his curiosity left an awful taste in his mouth with thoughts of how people had an addiction or hobby of killing their lungs with these products. He found no interest in them, but he could compare them to the taste of alcohol. Something most people enjoyed including him, though he wasn’t addict of it. He did have to keep a clean body for his commitment to the Saaraisash after all, and couldn’t afford to fail his Empire.

Djorn sat within his quarters of a secured, established outpost the Sith Empire were constructing. Safe enough to thwart off any dangerous predators of the planet Florn. Instead of helping his fellow comrades in whatever operations the Empire focused on completing he sat waiting for another Saaraisash operative that his higher ups instructed him to do so. A Sebastian Thel. Orders were given that they were to partner up and conduct discreet investigations that concerned the activity of the Rebels and the humbled state of Commenor. Theory was that those two entities had ties between them; ties that could possibly be hidden in other nations that th Sith Empire had no or limited knowledge about.

An assignment Djorn accepted without hesitation.

So he sat, trying to enjoy the cigarette and doing ‘homework’ on his fellow comrade that he’d be working with for some time.
 
Objective: 3

Acquiring: Resistance Epidermis, Skin Shears (Double Bladed Purple Lightsaber)


The guest quarters she was led to were surprisingly lavish for a hidden pirate base...these people had continuously surprised her since her arrival...they were better armed better equipped, and much smarter than she would have initially surmised.

That said, as has been mentioned before, they were pirates. They might have a more clever head on their shoulders, but they still had less discipline than an actual military, and no sooner had she gotten acclimated to a red colored luxury suite with gold sheets on the circular bed, a fresher and kitchen to the left, than the man who had sealed this Shadowport's fate walked in after the guards that had brought her here left.

He was clad in the black combat armor as the other pirates, that same ghost-under-the-bedsheet decal on the right of his chest plate. His hair was bright red and his face was freckled with brown eyes, the skin much fairer than her current form.

"We're alone..." The Amalgam assured the man, whose name was Jeffry.

The excited young man grinned ear to ear as The Amalgam rose, striding toward him as her middle aged figure melted and twisted in the dress back into her preferred state, the strikingly curvy, fair skinned woman with black hair 'growing' out of a rapidly re-arranging scalp in a moe-type cut with purple eyes and a deliberately sculpted face of bewitching beauty that had only needed to blink sweetly at Jeffry to seduce him. She hadn't slept with him...she had been stringing him along, hanging out with him, pretending to be interested in his hobbies as she hosted him aboard her yacht, slowly wrapping him around her finger with each whispered nothing in his ear, each deliberate brush of her fingers against his. Convincing him to betray his comrades had been almost too easy.

"You look beautiful, Amy."

She smiled at the name she had given for herself when meeting him for the first time. No one could say she hadn't been honest with him to a degree. Jeffry actually wasn't that stupid. The way he had smuggled her equipment aboard the shadowport had surprised and impressed her...he had actually framed another pirate for a seperate smuggling attempt, having tailed his victim to a seperate space station and planted contraband listening devices aboard his vessel, one of which was deliberately damaged by Jeffry so that the Shadowport's sensors would easily detect the leaking power signature and thus Jeffry's victim was easily flagged when he had returned to the shadowport. But in the process of sneaking aboard the man's vessel, Jeffry had also hidden the bag containing the Shapeshifter's equipment in a hidden compartment aboard the vessel that his victim often used to smuggle drugs, which was shielded from scans. Jeffry had timed it so that the man he had framed had actually been between runs for illicit substances, so when the Pirate he had framed was detained, everything on his vessel was forfeit and strip-searched. Jeffry had led the strip-searching, naturally, and easily retrieved her bag.

Jeffry was still pretty stupid, however. Especially when the subject of beautiful women was concerned.

He had served his purpose. He was of no further use and his death would be painful. But in spite of all that The Amalgam still occasionally felt a momentary twinge of that ghost of an emotion called pity for marks like this. She wasn't sure why. Jeffry had no redeeming qualities--he wore his lust for her like a beacon, desired to possess her so badly he'd kill others.

Still though, the was something endearingly pathetic in how slavishly he had obeyed her. But the Amalgam had no use for slaves. Especially not ones who had already proven the depth of their treachery to her. His obedience would gain him no mercy. But it had gained him a relatively quicker demise than most, if no less agonizing. It was as close to professional courtesy as someone like her got with a mark who had done well.

"You flatter me, Jeffry." she cooed in her standard voice, a husky but still distinctly feminine near-rasp. She drew closer, letting him slide his hand around her waist. There was nothing in her purple eyes. He was so seized by lust he did not notice this very obvious fact, and the terrible, nightmarish danger it indicated.

"You're equipment is under the bed, just like I promised."

"The Leader of the Pirates who hosted the demonstration...where is he?"

"Howard? He's in his own suite a few decks down. You'll know it by the leopard print...wait ..you're not thinking of killing him, are you?"

"You disapprove?"

"No. But...Howard is crazy as feth. He's badass. And not just a little badass either. He's Mega-Badass. Watch the feth out."

The Amalgam decided for being so helpful he would get something for his trouble.

"Very good, Jeffry. You've done me such a wonderful service...how ever shall I reward you?"

"Well I...uh..."

"Aww, poor, flustered Jeffry...going to such...lengths...all for little old me...you have risked quite a lot, haven't you?" she breathed, drawing him closer..."

"For you, beautiful...you bet..." Jeffry replied in an almost absent fashion.

"I've been such a bad girl, teasing you..." she said with a smile, running a finger up his chin. "I've got sometime before my big, important work begins...would you like a kiss?" she asked in a tone that any person thinking with their brain would have read instantly as having a malicious undercurrent to it.

Jeffry was not thinking with his brain.

"A kiss?" he stammered.

"Oh yes...a kiss...I'll need something for good luck before I send you on your way from this place." She traced the curve of his lips with her right pinky, giving that seductive smile.

"S...sure!" he said, bewitched to the very end by how gorgeous she was.

"A kiss you shall have..."

Her lips locked with his, clasping his head to draw him close...and prevent his escape...

His hands clasped the small of the shapeshifter's back, relaxing, then clenching, struggling to push her away as his scream was muffled by his lip lock. In desperation, he tried reaching for his blaster pistol, but it wasn't there, while he had been distracted by her beautiful face, tissue from her exposed thigh had formed and stretched into a fleshy tendril that had quietly lifted it out from the holster right under his nose, placing it on the ground behind him quietly.

His frantic desperate attempts to shove his false paramour away became more and more feeble, until his hands fell to the side lifelessly.

The Amalgam dropped the now withered, almost mummified corpse of Jeffry, mouth open in terror.

"A little too much spit for my liking...what about you?" The Amalgam asked in a bored but clearly gloating fashion as she went under the lavish bed and retrieved her bag. The golden dress fell away, and in minutes she was suited in her off-white, skin tight segmented combat suit.

Howard had taken her pistol. She wanted her pistol back. But more than that she wanted to impersonate Howard and gain unrestricted access to the facility, and get to its main reactor and blow it up. She had a limited window of opportunity--inevitably Jeffry would be discovered, or she would be found missing...either way, the facility would go into lockdown and patrols would likely become three times as aggressive as what she had seen.

The Amalgam examined her double-bladed lightsaber, a black metal hilt lined in parts with dark jewels. She split it into its two halves, as the staff configuration would not be useful in such confined spaces and shrouded herself in the Force, becoming invisible as she exited the room as quietly as she could, going down passages of darkened steel and gun mounted cameras, everyone of which was controlled by a guard who would have blown her head off the instant they spotted her had she gone down the shadowports paths uncloaked, moving slowly, slipping by guards as she looked for a turbolift...
 

Sebastian Thel

Guest
S
Location: Outpost
Allies: [member="Djorn Bline"]
Objective: Analyze Data
fDxOoqC.png
Smoke rose from beyond the massive fort which encircled the outpost. From his window, Sebastian looked over rings of barbed wire crowning the walls. While the Sith forces battled their through the undergrowth, he pursued a more intricate operation surrounding the aftermath of the fated siege of Commenor which had ended only in recent days. The tapping of Sebastian's fingers at a typewriter contrasted with the drone of craft descending into the atmosphere.

Included in the analysis report, which had been printed using primitive means to avoid the information being sliced, was the escape of the daughter of Commenor's Queen. Since [member="Loreena Arenais"] had escaped his clutches, Sebastian began to fear for his own safety should the Saraaisash trace their history. Their meeting during his early years of university had been innocent and he had never anticipated that they would wind up on opposing sides.

"Agent Thel, Inquisitor Bline is waiting to see you." A voice called from the door. Looking up from the typewriter, Sebastian saw the figure of a female officer who held the door open for him. Raising a finger in the air, he gestured for to wait as he finished the last sentence.

The typewriter pinged and Sebastian finished the page. He placed the last sheet of the report on a neat pile and stood upright. Collecting his writing material, he carried the pile to the door and handed it to the woman, who nodded in response and walked ahead. He adjusted his pens in the pocket of his double breasted tunic and lightly smacked the top of his hand with his ruler in contemplation. The door closed with a thud and the officer lead him to the operation deck with Djorn was waiting.

"That is a horrid habit." He tried to chuckle as he fanned away cigarette smoke. "Your lungs will thank you." The ends of Sebastian's mouth dented his cheeks in awkward smile as he happily watched Djorn discard the cigarette. Sebastian disliked smoking himself and found no interest in any particular vices, with the exception of caf. He turned away from Djorn and breathed through his mouth, motioning towards the table set out between them.

The female officer handed the inquisitor Sebastian's report on his operations at Commenor and left the two of them alone. Looking over his shoulder as the door closed shut with a thud, Sebastian straightened the puffy, military britches he wore and sat down. To the side of the wall, computer terminals beeped above the empty where he would eventually take his station. He sat down and prepared a new sheet of graph paper. Setting his ruler in the center, he began to trace an axis and listed a series of events on each point.

"That reports contains information surrounding the last known whereabouts of Loreena Arenais." As he wrote, Sebastian looked over the top of his thick-rimmed glasses to Djorn, the analysis file resting in his hands. "After I directed the Sith forces to her coordinates, her comms cut out and we lost track of her." Pausing, the mathematician placed the pen between his teeth in thought. He did not know why he kept thinking about Loreena, only that guilt was not among the array of confusing emotions he was trying to decipher.

The girl knew him. She could identify him to her allies and all manner of terrorist refute she had at her disposal. Would she seek revenge? Sebastian did not suspect the girl was so vicious. He had only been doing his job and once she was older, she too would understand that the galaxy was more complicated that good or bad. While he knew that Loreena considered him a coward, Sebastian had been holding an entire mission together at the time. Risking the operation to save the life of one enemy would have been outright foolish and have flown in the face of logic.

"The rate of rebel activity within the Commenori region has risen since the siege." Sebastian said as he calculated the statistics and marked them on graph. "Of course, this is just raw data. I can't determine whether the Commenori are working with the Rebels until I patch these figures into the network." Pausing to squint at the results, he tapped his pen on the number listed beside the Mandalorian Empire illustrating their allegiance with the Sith Empire. A logarithm gently tapered downward between the two factions.

"Any reports on your end, Inquisitor?" Tilting his head to one side, Sebastian inquired as he considered the figures. He traced a new exponential illustrating the growth in the relationship between the Mandalorians and Commenor, which shot up drastically. "My statistics point towards the Mandalorian Empire." He said as he cupped his chin in thought. "I believe they may be offering aid to the Commenori." Tapping the pen on the paper, he raised one eyebrow in the direction of Djorn.
 
His Will, Among the Stars
Objective III: Dismantle "the Lost Souls"
Allies: [member="Dethroned King"]
Post Nr. I




As far as plans went, this one was not bad. Not bad at all. Nodding in agreement, the Lieutenant's eyes gleamed with interest, lips curved upwards into a slight smile. "Yes, yes. That should take care of that. It should give us all the sensor data we need to make a high precision micro-jump. Hmm, if we tinker with some variables..." A few quick gestures, bringing with them corresponding changes in the hologram before them. "... increase the size and add a network of smaller power cells ..." A thoughtful nod. "Yes, that should do it. Those degenerates will never see it coming."

The patchwork device would not be pretty, of course, but that made it all the more appropriate for the barely functional Gozanti cruiser that would house it. If everything went according to plan, it should be all but impossible to detect, it's power signature disguised by faulty systems and cosmic radiation. A devastating trap, concealed behind a time-worn exterior and manned by a crew of expendable droids.

Bidding his fellow engineers farewell, the Epicanthix quickly made his way towards the nearby observation deck, saluting sharply after making his entrance. "Captain Zellos, sir. The modifications should be complete momentarily, with the Vigilant Hound ready for its final assignment shortly thereafter." Whether through destruction in battle or facing the scrapyards, this would be the last time the vessel would fly. He could only hope the Black Javelin would be more fortunate; it would, after all, be an ignoble end indeed to perish during his first real battle. Say what you will about the importance of the Bastion Defence Grid, it was not exactly known to be a dangerous posting.

---

Knife pirouetting through the air before thudding into the wall next to the sobbing prisoner's head, Captain Mrirst laughed raucously, a hint of mania in his tone. This was a good day, the almost childlike joy that had followed his surgery having still not faded. He had brought his raider frigate into port for supplies, repairs, and a bit of "livestock trading", but had found so much more.

It had been painful, at first, but he had never been one to back down from a challenge. No, this Trandoshan was no coward, his Ma and Pa having raised him properly. His work had helped him claim many lives, earned him many points with the Scorekeeper. Now... those points would only accumulate further. He had been a great hunter, now he was greater. He lived for the hunt, and they prey would only grow bigger and more prestigious. Another round of nigh-maniacal laughter. Perhaps one day he would return to his homeworld and bring death to the Silver Jedi dogs. One day. For now, another dagger was thrown, only this time he did not see fit to miss.
 

Tabigarashu Madara

Good things come in smol packages
"I would be happy to compare notes, though I am sure yours are much longer than mine. After all, I write very smol," the Nezumi said with a straight face. What sounded at first like a put down of them selves was more clearly a joke. "I would be happy to lone you any of my books! It's not a library if people don't borrow things, is it?"

Hirou tilted their head quizzically at Cerbera, at that offer.

"Thank you, I will consider it! But I am unsure if that change in myself would be a good change. I like myself. And in truth, there are many occasions where not having that particular skill has been useful to me and my work."

Hirou knew that it was possible to cloak oneself in the force- they had read so and knew it was a skill a number of Saaraishash agents possessed. But that was still a risk yes? So many things could go wrong with that. So much of Hirou's capacities for the Saaraishash hinged on being overlooked. What better way to do that, in particular with force users, than to *not* be one? It was a bias Hirou had seen in Sith again and again. Yes, many did not strictly speaking look down on non-force users, but they did underestimate them as a general trend, and that trend did not stop with this single force tradition. No, Hirou could use that- the art of small but in *truth* rather than as a description of ability. To use that against those when needed. To be over looked.

Under estimated.

Hirou's ears swiveled, nose quivering at the appearance of the new beings. Still larger than them, but goodness so much closer! It was like looking at distant galactic cousins, and Hirou's fur rippled right before scampering to the edge of Cerbera's shoulder and then back to the middle in a small display of excitement they couldn't quite push down. With Cerbera's help, they reached the floor again.

The small group converged. Some chattered excitedly with the Nezumi, others were more reserved. They trades names, scents, body language, a hundred things lost on larger creatures. For a moment, Hirou forgot about Cerbera and why they were here, in the process of making, very clearly, new friends.

[member="Cerbera"]
 
Vestille Thumahra



World Engine Exclusion Zone, Florn
Objective II: Enter The Zone, Defuse The World Engine

As if the cage had melted away under the influence of the energies of the World Engine, he felt it begin to surface.

It had been a slog through the jungle, burning away everything before them and exposing the creatures that lay within the concealing foliage to level the playing field against the beasts that had been labeled as hyper-lethal and able to kill within split seconds. It was clear that taking their advantage away from them brought these beasts to heel like any other and, perhaps above all else, flame, slug and any other type of munitions would bring these mutants down soon enough. The Colonel knew that his forces were capable enough, suffering a man or two here or there as they strayed too far from the burnt path but these casualties were insignificant in regards to their successful taking of ground. Above that, however, was the sheer presence of the Emperor in such close proximity that had given the 12th a boost to their already excellent morale; each man seeking to prove himself in the potential recognition of their ruler and to this ideal these men would throw themselves to the death if asked; even if Vestille occasionally had to pull a man by the back of his vest to prevent them from throwing their lives into the abyss needlessly.

Death and the Colonel were like kin, after all; he knew all too well of its embrace but each visit was never permanent, simply brief brushes alongside one another.

The Emperor's retinue had indeed reached the World Engine, engineers planting their charges and preparing to engulf the rampant Sith machine in hellfire and bring the terraforming and mutation of the wildlife to a swift end. All that remained after all was said and done was the cleaning up of the last mutated creatures that no doubt felt drawn to the source of their new mutations and power but that wasn't the only one. Vestille had also felt the draw of the sheer power of the World Engine and its perverted purpose as the power fed not him but the thing that lived in tense co-existence within himself. Whilst it felt that he had control of the beast and the two sides of his mind were able to communicate and assist once another, he sometimes felt the tug of the primal and savage darkness that lurked deep within him, begging to push the logic deep beneath and allow the creature to emerge and take control, leaving a road of bodies in its wake.

It would have its desires met, perhaps simply for a lack of a better alternative as the men of the 12th linked up with the Emperor's retinue and secured the perimeter to buy the demolition teams the time they needed to set the charges properly. As the roars and screeches of the jungle became apparent in their approach, the Colonel actively shifted his men into position with flamethrowers taking a knelt line in front of the row of rifles; creating a wall of fire to be accompanied by slugs and bolts in a ceaseless field of fire. Whilst the Emperor's troops no doubt had their own battle-plan and the Emperor no doubt taking command of his contingent, the Legion shifted into a wall that would stand as the bulwark against the twisted predators that saw nothing more than a feast before them. As the creatures began to appear from the treeline at full speed, the flamethrowers opened up and spewed a wall of flame that went in all directions, burning away natural armor and foliage without mercy as the wall of guns opened up, taking down beasts big and small alike... Yet they kept coming.

Just a few more minutes.

Being so close to the World Engine, the beast bubbled and snarled as it eventually could be restrained no longer. As the twin serpent-like demons revealed themselves in the shadow of the jungle, the Colonel pushed himself beyond the line as his body became the very reaper that stories and rumors had pictured him as. A dance of death ensued, his rifle ripping apart creature after creature with the rapid succession of plasma bolt after plasma bolt as the serpents surged forward and entered a battle for dominance against the creatures that saw themselves as kings of the jungle; only to be torn asunder by the teeth as sharp as razors and the arms that began to also grow from the Colonel's back, more akin to blades as they surged fourth and skewered and tossed creatures about. Whilst the fighting remained on all sides, the immediate area around the Colonel had all but stopped shooting, simply watching in a mix of awe and horror as their Commanding Officer turned into a demon, a creature of shadow with a fight that roared louder than anything they had ever seen before.

The explosives were ready and the dropships had been called in for extraction. Soon the Legion as a whole was moved from the blast radius and the charges were detonated, basking the World Engine in a flame that could be seen for miles; a sure sign that the threat of any further mutations to the creatures that roamed the deadly jungles of Florn. The damage to the environment had no doubt been great and not all of the creatures affected had been put down but, as it stood, the World Engine was no more and the vast majority of the threat had been neutralized.

Nobody said a word of what they had witnessed.
 
Objective: Obtain Nerve Implants, Survive (III)
Location: Raxus, Sith-Imperial Marshalling Station
Post No. II
Allies: [member="Zeric Parcra"]

Zellos nodded, but it took a few more seconds before he turned around to face the Epicanthix lieutenant. He'd grown used to being in command of operations, and although he took care to afford his subordinates respect that any loyal citizen or soldier of the Empire deserved, his thoughts and mind came first. Always. Pausing to gaze out of the transparisteel window of the observation deck. Yes, the Vigilant Hound would probably be serving its last mission in the upcoming hours, but Zellos couldn't help but admire the small cruiser. Despite their technological disadvantage and relative condition of disrepair, Zellos had always wished to be a commander of the ancient ships, to taste what it would feel like to be at the helm of one of them in battle. But their days of glory had past and now newer, sleeker and modern starships took to the battlefield while the ancient frames merely stood in museums as careful preservations or broken, rusting in a junkyard or some trash world.

"That is good news, in a dark time. Every second wasted gives these 'Lost Souls' more time to spread their cancerous and dangerous nerve implants. I fear if any insurgents get their hands on these implants it could mean much more trouble for the Empire than our commanding officers realize."

Zellos turned around, his hands clasped behind his powerful shoulders. The idea to sabotage the Raxus shadowport to gain knowledge of the nearby shadowport in Florn had been solely his, however he did admit credit to the bright Lieutenant for suggesting that they use a sensor device to gather enough information to allow the Kaas's Pride and the Black Javelin, a small sixty-meter long corvette, right into the pirate fleet; enough to cause pandemonium and chaos that would allow the Sith Empire to quickly and easily claim victory. The Gozanti-class cruiser was the keystone to the plan; with a renovating yet truthfully degrading paint job that paired with the rearmament with mostly illegal and patchwork weapons, the cruiser would easily fit into any insurgent or pirate fleet, and wouldn't be a dead giveaway.

"We have sources that detail a small flotilla of ships belonging to the Meridian Dynamics corporation in formation above Raxus Prime. Although they are technically legal, Lieutenant, they are not friendly to Imperial or even pirate ships, despite the number of credits they make selling to those scum. Tread lightly, and inform your captain that the Black Javelin may be seeing action sooner than expected.
 
Objective: Train the new Legion
Location: Swamps of Florn One Hundred Clicks from capital City
Gear: Jungle Warfare Gear/ Golden Armour Of Mythos

Deep in the jungle Mythos made a small area of operations running through a creek next to a small cave, close to his position was a deep and mucky swamp that made movement incredibly difficult. Across this bog was the fortress that acted as their opposition in this theater of training. His Anubian scout team had circled around a small area to keep over watch as the rest of his unit circled around him and took defensive positions. Around Mythos they set up a three hundred and sixty degree fire arc stretching over fifty meters. In the middle of this circle of concealed Anubians was Mythos with his communications officer responding to [member="Adrian Vandiir"] and [member="Darian Helsic"]. Mythos considered than he knew both kinds of Sith these two warriors represented, he considered himself more like Darian.

There was the Sith Warrior who enjoyed nothing more than blood and gore, training and killing for the time when it came down to killing the actual enemy. This Mythos understood, the desire to stand beside your own men in war and kill beside them, to these Sith Warriors nothing is more alluring, this does not mean they can't wine and dine with the best of them. On the other hand was the Sith Warrior like Adrian, the Sith who fought in ballrooms designed like chess boards, at meetings that resemble mine fields, at public displays of politics which effects are akin to an artillery barrage, this does not exclude them from clipping on a lightsaber and cutting down a horde of clones but they are more suited or prefer the finer battle field.

Both were instrumental to the grown and power of the Sith Empire. Both were crucial, both were lethal.

"This is specter, hard copy." Mythos responded from his holotransmitter, deep in the bog of his own chosen field and in his other hand seeing the overview of the terrain and the satellite images of what the stealth ships allowed him to see, that and his drones. "Major, you will flank from where you are across the bog, remain unseen and set up a firing position behind the south east hedges. Eidolon you will come here to my position and set up a support by fire, when Major opens up you open up hell with him and suppress the enemy. My team will flank left and assault the position, when I give the signal, keep firing but shift your fire to the right and pick off the enemy that runs out of the fortress, from me. Over"

As Mythos spoke he fed the intel to his fellow Sith from his datapad allowing them to see the entire bog, obstacles, ridges and machineblaster nests. The fortress was two stories tall, each corner housing a machineblaster nest surrounded by laserwire. As Mythos gave his orders he also set up to move out, his Abunians flanking and rolling in the swamp in a wedge formation keeping low and moving fast. Mythos took his battlerifle and sprung up a tall tree as they headed through the bog, set his weapon with his sights aimed at the fortress and used the C.A.R.G.S. system to analyze it. The system would feed his fellow soldiers and commanders the same intel he was seeing; distance, terrain, the patrols around it, wind, elevation and visibility.
 
His Will, Among the Stars
Objective III: Dismantle "the Lost Souls"
Allies: [member="Dethroned King"]
Post Nr. II




At Captain Zellos' statement, the Lieutenant's expression turned grim. Having served as a naval engineer for years, he knew well how important reflexes were; after all, they were one of the primary benefits of using droid brains above organic pilots. These implants allowed criminals and worse yet insurgents to get the best of both worlds, to gain advantages to compensate for the superior training and technology of the Armada and Legion alike. In short, it was the definition of dangerous, but as an engineer Lt. Parcra couldn't help but admire the cost-effectiveness with which they must be producing them. Perhaps, if they captured the men behind it and their notes, this could be turned into a solid net win for the Sith Empire. A make or break moment for his career, no doubt.

Lip momentarily curling upwards into a grimace of disdain, the Epicanthix quickly recovered his the emotionless expression so characteristic of low-ranking officers. "Corporate scum. Are you worried they might compromise our plan for a quick profit, sir?"

That was concerning, to put it mildly, but a bit of misdirection should be sufficient to make the Zygerrian scum think they were heading to Florn to recruit the locals, and that they were unaware of the Shadowport. He doubted he was the first to think of that, however; somewhere in the Kaas's Pride's command structure, there were no doubt people employed solely to handle these kinds of affairs. A bit more impressive than the Black Javelin's crew of eight, that.

"I shall inform the Commander immediately, sir." After sending a quick message on his wrist link, he saluted once more, making it clear that he was at the Captain's service. The question, of course, being whether he had further need of his services, or whether he was to return to the Dakhan-class to which he was assigned as second-in-command.

---

Eyes narrowing to slits, the Trandoshan stared at the man in the holoterminal, all the way entertaining a vague fantasy of choking the accursed Twi'lek to death. Bunch of paranoid bastards, these "Lost Souls". He had come to trade, not to receive a Scorekeeper-cursed lecture in departure procedures. Damn cowards. If he was them, he would take the fight right to those bureaucratic stoopas that called themselves Imperials, instead of hiding like a bunch of slimy Neimoidians.

Gritting his teeth, he waved his hands in annoyance, making it clear that he was done listening. He was a pirate, not a damn freighter captain, and he damn well knew how to tamper with his ship's signature.
 
Objective: Obtain Nerve Implants, Survive (III)
Location: Raxus, Sith-Imperial Marshalling Station
Post No. II
Allies: [member="Zeric [/FONT][/I][/SIZE][I][SIZE=12px][FONT='courier new']Parcra[/FONT][/SIZE][/I][FONT='courier new'][I][SIZE=12px]"]

"I expect them not to. They will not want to draw attention to themselves while so many ships of the Armada are in system."

It was true, rarely did corporations and cartels such as Meridian try and provoke other ships while they were under close scrutiny, the allegiance of the said starship notwithstanding. It was cowardly and evasive, but it worked and Meridian like all others had at least survived under the heels of the Sith Empire. One day Zellos would've loved to take his Xo'Xaan II straight to Zygerria, but bureaucratic laws and mounds of regulations prevented him from taking a torch to the world. For now, he'd have to be content with the mere 'You don't hit me, I don't hit you' mantra and secretly wish for a reason to engage. Besides, in several hours or so he expected the Kaas's Pride to be at the edge of the Florn System, raining fire on shadowports and criminal starships. His bloodlust would be satisfied for now.

"Lieutenant, you shall be promoted to commanding officer of the Vigilant Hound for this operation. A small detachment of crew from the marshaling station will accompany you to Raxus Prime."

The 'big reveal' that Zellos had held up the sleeve, he had noticed the Epicanthix routinely pining for a promotion. Not at loud of course, every good subordinate knew that to ask for promotion was a basic sentence to ten more years as an ensign. Yet after serving so long with the Armada, Zellos had intuitively begun to notice the traits of those seeking a higher position; the ambition in their eyes, the yearning for power. He'd dismissed most he'd come across who'd exhibited those qualities, most often in his own crew. But this Epicanthix lieutenant seemed competent enough, and with the right ambition and tactical strategy could be promoted after this very mission. The Lieutenant in a commanding position could ever-more-likely herald that new rank, and Zellos thought of it as a benevolent nod towards the direction of High Command.

"Do you have any other questions, Lieutenant?"
 
His Will, Among the Stars
Objective III: Dismantle "the Lost Souls"
Allies: [member="Dethroned King"]
Post Nr. III




Eyes widening in surprise, Lt. Parcra nodded respectfully, eyes glimmering with excitement. "Thank you, sir. I will do my utmost to ensure the success of this assignment."

Just like that, he had his first command, albeit a temporary one. It would be dangerous, both for his career and his life, but this was what he had wanted. The chance to prove himself, to climb the ranks of the Armada until he had the power to make a difference. To play a greater part in enforcing the rule of law upon a galaxy plagued by crime and corruption.

Of course, his first command would be anything but simple. He would command a crew he did not know, on an ancient ship filled with patchwork technology, all the while dealing with a plan that required him and his crew to be at their best. It would be anything but simple, but he was sure he could do it better than most; after all, he had some lesser command experience and his theoretical knowledge of the ship and its modifications were extensive.

"Only one, Captain. Will the Vigilant Hound have similarily lawless-looking starfighters assigned, or will it be initially unaccompanied?"

Whatever the case, his next action would be the same: He had a crew and ship to acquaint himself with, and quickly. In the heat of battle, cohesion was utterly essential, and that took time to establish.
 
Objective: 3

Post: 4

The Amalgam creapt through the corridors in Force Stealth, barely avoiding a number of patrols as she made her way slowly to the turbolift, waiting until one of the pirates had stepped in the lift before she did so.

The helmeted, bored pirate stepped onto the turbolift, only to feel the hilt of one of her lightsabers press against his back.

"The floor of your boss. Take me to it." came the cold rasp of the Dark Adept.

"Wait...you're picking a fight...with Howard?" the guard asked incredulously.

"C'mon, he can't be that badass." the shapeshifter grumbled in annoyance.

"Heh. Your funeral, schutta. Nice knowin' 'ya." The guard snorted, knowing his death was imminent as he punched the floor she wanted. "Howard's gonna tear you a new one."

"Funny, considering some 'tearing' is about to happen to you..." came the reply.

The screaming was muffled in the turbolift, like the sound of the lightsaber that had traveled immediately before it.

The Shapeshifter walked out of the turbolift, still invisble, trailed by the smoke of cooked flesh as she headed down.

Taking down this shadowport would not be easy. Not unless she got rid of Howard and assumed his identity. She hadn't spotted the complicated biometric security devices there were on military bases. Apparently the resources of The Lost Souls only extended so far. They could foot the bill for the implants, as well as for maintaining this shadowport in the Oort Cloud near Florn, but she suspected she had seen the limits of their security capabilities. Howard was her route to the deeper parts of the facility. Raiding his quarters was also essential from the standpoint of intel collection. As she traveled through dark metal compartments, hearing the mechanisms on gun mounted cameras in the halls constantly swiveling. They had placed them expertly, covered their blind spots with a fanatical precision. She found herself strangely admiring these people again, and genuinely began to believe it a shame that she had to kill all of them. It was an even bigger shame they had never considered working for The Empire.

She found the leopard print door at last, and heard music playing on the other side. It was a slow beat, sung by a woman. Curious, she waited until she saw another pirate walk up to the door and followed him in while still invisible.

Apparently Howard was getting his jam on. He was in red pajamas with tons of little pink hearts all over it, using a knife as a microphone and lip-synching with the song playing on a stereo mounted on the wall in a gaudy, glitzy suite with the leopard print pattern everywhere. Three women were asleep on his bed, all gorgeous by any standard, all three human. He was an older gentleman, with his hair in a military cut, a salt gray color and a short, curly beard that was just as gray. His eyes were a striking green that reminded her of Uri's eyes, but without that desperate, wild insanity fluttering around behind it...but there still seemed to be a strange sadness to it, even though he was pretending to sing with the combat knife. He was tall, well built, clearly exercised regularly. His skin was a weathered, leathery tan.

"Sir!" The other pirate said, saluting. "We found Jeffry dead!"

Howard stopped singing. He took out a remote from his pocket and turned off the music.

"That's great! How'd he go?" Howard asked with a big smile. "It was Tookren, wasn't it? He spaced him out the airlock like he always said he was gonna?"

"Uh, no sir. He was found mummified in Miss Lister's suite."

Howard frowned, scratched his butt in front the pirate.

"Huh. Well that's not great. Ah, hell we probably got an infiltrator aboard. Tell everyone to triple patrols, sound general alert, and shoot Miss Lister on sight. She's 'probably' something horrifically deadly to all of us. My money's on Sith, personally. At least Jeffry's dead. Feth that guy."

"You should arm yourself, sir. If its a Sith..."

"I got my winnin' jammies on, Son. I am armed."

The other pirate saluted. "Yes Sir! Uh, what about the women?"

"Oh, them! Ladies!" He called out to all three buxom women, who woke up quickly.

"Gotta clear out ladies, sorry. Security threat. Gotta get my ass-kickin' on." he said.

The three women dressed. One blew him a kiss as she walked by. Howard made an "air guitar" gesture at her in response. "Look me up on social media! My handle is Moonraker! 'Cause I rake in stacks of money that can reach a moon an average distance from a planet!" he said excitedly as they left.

"Make sure they get off the station safely..." Howard told the pirate. "And lock down this deck."

"At once sir." The pirate nodded, leaving.

And the two were alone. Howard turned the music back on and went back to lip-sinching the song, shimmying now and then in tune with the beat. His back was turned. The Amalgam creapt forward, not hearing the door lock behind her. Disable him first, rip all relevant information from his head and then carve him to pieces...

She looked on with a dark amusement as Howard began pulling dance moves as he moved closer to his desk. She spotted her laser pistol on his cherry red and gold desk, as gaudy as everything else in his suite.

She was posed to strike at his legs as he began wiggling suggestively, his back still turned...and then he moved so fast she was only able to move her neck out of the way from being impaled due to the fact that the heavy knife blade that was spring ejected from Howard's hilt was traveling at three quarters the speed of an arrow. But it still cut open the side of her neck, spilling alien blood on the floor, forcing her out of cloak as she clamped on her neck out of instinct, dropping one of her lightsabers as Howard The Pirate dived behind his desk, grabbing her own laser pistol and firing rapidly at her, and she barely managed to fend off the thin but deadly laser streaks with her other blade, leaping behind the cover of a gem-encrusted couch as Howard pelted her cover with laser fire from her own gun.

"May I ask what gave me away?" she called out politely.

"Door took a little longer closing than usual after Benny walked in." Howard replied, keeping his foe's pistol trained on her cover.

"Very good, Howard. I see now why they put you in charge."

"Got a name, Miss Sexy-Sexiness?" Howard asked, waiting for the momentary lull.

"They call me The Amalgam. I'll be your executioner today. Be a good boy and drop dead for me would you?" she asked with a faux-sweetness.

"I heard 'a' you!" Howard replied with a chuckle, though he kept a rock-steady aim on the couch she hid behind. "You were a fething pain in the neck--what was it, twenty, thirty years ago? I thought somebody made you eat a saber. So...'Sup? What, retirement got boring?"

"Retirement?" The Amalgam asked, mildly irritated at the pun he'd made at how he had injured her. watching her free hand arc with purple electricity. "I never quit. So where'd The Lost Souls dig you up? Those moves...ballistic knife...I'm guessing Special Operations Executive of Commenor, Seventh Field Platoon."

"Close. Sixth."

"Ah. Damn." the Shi'ido snapped, keeping pressure applied to her neck.

The Amalgam leapt up and let off a stream of lightning--only to blink in surprise as he charged forward. He was wearing a capacitance belt, firing so fast she was forced to break off the lightning and Force jump behind him to prevent him from hitting her, barely getting her blade up as his barrage from her own weapon came fast and relentless. She swiped a purple blade of plasma at his arm but he dodged fast, cartwheeling to the side, firing.

Wow, he IS badass. The Shi'ido thought, force jumping to avoid being downed by her pistol, deflecting the thin beams as she landed. Her eyes widened as Howard slammed a button on his desk and an automatic shotgun popped out of a hidden panel next to him.

"Time to retire your sexy hide fer' reals... Howard snapped, firing...
 
[member="Mythos"] [member="Adrian Vandiir"]

"It will be done."

He grinned under his helmet, yeah. He could do that, he had always considered going into the Empire's commandos but he still enjoyed that nice blunt feeling of crushing the enemy under an organized tank squadron or eliminating them with with the thundering stomp of metal boots, but still. Just marching along with that pinpoint accuracy needed for Black Ops was such an adrenaline rush that few things could revival.

Darian simply repeated the commands to his little teams and they moved off. He'd make sure to report any and all screw ups to their leader, but he expected much from these soldiers while at the same time expecting them to live up to his expectations. They were something to a proud of, shame they weren't his own parade drilled men and women. And all the various others that popped up from the more exotic races...

It was a well executed maneuver, Darian of course wanting to take up most of the front of the front with the whole thing. He enjoyed the buck of his weapon in his hand, he wasn't some coward who lead from the back. Once satisfied with the placement of his teams, scattered around to provide multiple targets and never let them be truly focused down he shouted his command into the comms.

"Fire!"

And with that, they unleashed about as much hell as they could muster without 10 meter tall walkers.
 
Objective I: Add more cogs to the Sith-Imperial war machine.
Allies: [member="Mythos"] & [member="Darian Helsic"] | Major Vobrot (NPC)
Post Nr. VI





As the last message was relayed and Adrian's force began to reposition themselves, he leaned back in his chair. Allowing himself a moment of thought, he quickly flipped over to a private frequency available only to him and Major Vobrot.

"Major. Let's cut to the chase: You know what you're supposed to do, probably more so than me." A slight pause. "So do your thing, lead your men, and I..." A hearty chuckle. "... will watch the fireworks." Of course, the Major said what was to be expected of him, but the tone of relief in his voice was evident beyond a doubt to the young Knight's sensitive ears.

Switching back to the command frequency, Adrian allowed the battle to play out, a slight grin as the good Major and the men under his command executed the plan with unerring efficiency. Even so, there were "casualties" on all sides; after all, the defenders were not some common rabble, but legionnaires assigned to serve as opposition. Even legionnaires, however, were not immune to being caught by surprise, could not maintain full alertness for hours upon hours.

Curious. He had expected Mythos' prediction to fail, but it would seem the other man knew the Legion mentality better than himself. One by one, it seemed like a disorganised retreat. When one saw the big picture, however, another pattern began to unveil itself. A cleverly hidden flanking action, intended to catch their forces in a pincher behind those that "retreated" and the machineblasters on the walls. Clever, that. Could have posed a serious risk to their success, had the far more militarily experienced Sith not predicted the move, or at least something like it.
 
Objective I: Finish the Exercise/Something like it
Location: The Swamp

The execution of the maneuver was flawless, as flawless as moving through a swamp with heavy weaponry and gear in toe. Mythos patrolled the area with his troops in the wedge formation, deep behind and low to the ground in contract to their target. They were not to move until the fire had begun, it began only half way through their movement. They took advantage of the initial blast of the friendly barrage dealing and taking casualties to move forward with his own squad more stealthily to the target. These Anubians were part of a special group of soldiers Mythos wanted to train in this specific terrain: The Molok Legion. Mythos approached the left side of the compound behind the woodline as the bigger guns shot back at his own troops. It was not long before the second friendly began to join the fire, the sheer power of both [member="Darian Helsic"] and his forces and [member="Adrian Vandiir"] was enough to suppress the place fully.

Mythos awaited behind the woodline with the Anubians, they had with them a breaker with the acid launcher, two riflemen with lightning rifles. This was the first line of attack once they breached inside, then would come the commander of the squad followed by the rear element with the Emiritus rifle as the rear flank with the G-35 as the heavy weapon. The Communications officer would stay with Mythos coming in at the rear armed with his infernos rifle and blaster pistol. Before they could assault Mythos needed to let one minute of fire roll between the two allied forces into the fortress, he needed to let them kill as much as they could. Knowing that they had fire superiority he let the mad minute rage uninterrupted taking account of the amount of firepower used and estimating the casualties.

Once that had passed he gave the signal for his allies to shift their fire through the CARGS system.

His plan was simple and textbook, of course it was going to work. As his allies shot slightly to the right they cleared Mythos from friendly fire but his enemies still heard the blasterfire and destruction, they did not know it was not aimed at them, they kept their heads down. As the fire rained down by the allied forces on the enemy Mythos could see first hand as the sectors of fire being a few degrees from also being victim to it. He had already seen the casualties head down and the sound of hits, he made his order to assault through.

Heading the charge and anticipating the attack of the machine blaster possitions he gave command for the G-35 gunner and a rifleman to lay behind their position still and lay down fire to their left. The apex directly in front of him with the furthermost machinebaster nest, he took on personally, igniting his black lightsaber and using his lightsaber skills to deflect the fire of the enemy position. Several thermal detonators in precise places took care of the laser wire all the while Mythos protected the throwers by deflecting the fire from the towers with his lightsaber and in more extreme cases with his armor.

Now was what he was waiting for, he had the enemy suppressed in all sides, with a single wave of his hand and the power of Telekinesis he turned the guns on each other, 'killing' the two gunners. Slightly before that, the breaching team took a section of the bottom of the tower and used the Acid thrower to punch a hole through the wall where the rifleman, the communications officer and the rest of the team would flow in all the while opening fire to whatever else was inside the small fortress. From the time the first Anubian entered the molten hole in the tower from the time the first entry room was cleared with every soldier inside including Mythos in position was roughly two seconds. There was the good, then there were the Elite.

The breacher having done his function placed the large weapon on his back and took the blasterpistol from the C.O. They reloaded, checked their weapon systems, oriented the mission with hand signals and moved in, clearing room by room to the sound of non-lethal electric blasts and plasma. First door on the left, two enemies, Mythos took the right with the MK, the rifleman took the man to the left with the lightning rifle. A room slightly forward, while Mythos cleared that one, the second team moved in to eliminate the targets inside with quick and precise shots from the infernos and the blaster pistol, the breaker suffered a shot to the leg and his armor clamped down on the limb, the squad was now slower.

The next floor was no different but most of the opposition had been eliminated by their allies fire still raging outside or fled possibly gunned down by his allies as well, but Mythos noticed that even a tactical retreat would have left more bodies, slightly more. Through the HUD on his helmet he could see what others under his command could also see, a tactical bait retreat to pull them from the fortress and into the open and put them between the gun nest and the woodline where no doubt they now were bogged down in. Tactical maneuvers like this required a swift decision and Mythos had one, with one hand he ordered his riflemen to take point and when that was done he hoisted the breaker with the 'wounded' leg on his back, while giving the acid launcher to the commander.

They moved through the compound eliminating three more enemies that had been 'wounded' and left behind, at the end of the hallway was the top of the fortress and a straight open shot to the last gun nest, Mythos planned on taking it as his own, as the one closest to them had been disabled by his allies. "Open fire on the ridge-line, call in the mortar fire" He commanded, both to his men to triangulate their position and feed them to the Sith Warriors, but to the other command to put those coordinates in and call in the fire. Within seconds the G-35 was racking off rounds into the woodline as the team joined soon after, Mythos on the other hand was carrying a full grown Anubian on his back, his armor, his weapons all the while flying through with repulsor boots and a lightsaber in his hand.

He only got half way before the enemy gun team began firing on him, they could not turn the fixed big gun on him but instead opened on him with their blaster rifles. Mythos let go of his warrior at a decent height for a safe landing and while falling down into the position deflected the shots aimed at him with the black blade of his songsteel lightsaber, the whistle of it's steel singing as he swung the legendary blade. His Anubian breaker hit the ground rolling, angling himself to avoid hurting his clamped leg and coming to a halt on one knee, brandishing the HPX-7 blaster pistol and letting off a single shot that took out the trooper closest to him, while Mythos destroyed the other trooper's rifle by stabbing it through with his lightsaber and then with the power of Telekinesis flung him from the tower.

A painful but hopefully harmless fall.

He wasted no time in turning his attention to his right noting that now the enemy fire was picking up as a kind of final desperate salvo and retreating into the woodline. As his Anubian squad fired all guns into the woods his breaker manned the machine blaster and turned it on the woodline defense positions. Gathering the force inside him and raising his black lightsaber high Mythos let go a wide and powerful lash of sith lightning aimed at the top of the trees, igniting the top branches of fire making them fall down in flames and smoke flushing the troopers from their positions with natural weapons.

The scene unfolded before him as he took it in all the while on the top of the fortress with a black lightsaber in one hand as fire rained from below and beside him. His command now rained hell on his burning forest, there was nowhere left to retreat to now. The mortars would be electronically fired, taking effect in the system and not visible to anyone not overseeing the entire operation, Mythos knew his execution had finished, he called the end to the exercise.

"End EX. You have preformed to satisfaction of the empire. Head over to debriefing and prepare for some well earned rest and recovery."

 
Darian was a dog, a vicious attack hound. The closest thing he could be described as, he had been given a command and he would fulfill it (almost) to the letter. Such was how a good soldier was, in his own eyes that had been aflame by the chaos and disorder of the Underworld for far too long. He didn't think much, he just fired, combat instinct took over for the Major.

His LFG bucked in his hands as Darian unloaded out a stream of fire, nothing new to him. Just the work being done, slowly having his small teams advance up as time progressed. Yes, he was indeed impressed with these force's performance: commendable training. But this began to mean less and less to him as time went on, they were good and that was fine. The shooting started and they were doing fine. No screw ups, no shocking changes in the way the training went.

When the comm came in, Darian didn't respond but gave a hardy yell to the forces under his command that their work as done. No "good jobs" or "fine work" from him, he just let his LFG cool and shouted out orders for the trek back: exercise may have been done but he wasn't just yet. Once they went back the way they came, then it was done with him.

An uneventful march with a few more beasts killed.

By the time Helsic was entirely back, he had taken off to his own minor seclusion. Deep into thought, his own forces could use some more training (as if he didn't drill them enough.)

@Mythos @Adrian Vandiir
 

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