Invasion Kill Them All and let God Sort them Out: AC Invasion of TSE held Ziost, Mirial, Ruuria

[Sephi Karneh]

N O V A
IMPERIAL MILITARY ASSISTANCE GROUP;
ASSIGNED TO | 1st BATTALION 506th INFANTRY REGIMENT, ASHLAN CRUSADE
NEW IMPERIAL "DOGS"
ARMOR PRIMARY MAGCANNON GRENADES MELEE

P S Y C H E
NEW ADASTA
JUDGMENT DAY​

The thunder she brought did not cease because one contingent of hostility had been made to heel. Merely, the combat engineer went through the motions, giving her cannon a moment to hiss its heat through the proper sinks as she reloaded it, slamming another canister into the lower rail. Despite the dampeners in her helmet her ears rung, sparked to outrage by the utter bellow of her weapon. There was a reason it was suited for these types of battlefields and not more compact ones. Weight fixed on her shoulder, earning her attention, and she withdrew from her silent calculations to blink at Grunge, glassy eyes fixed intently on his lips to read the words he spoke, where her ears failed to catch them in their entirety.​

<"I'm taking first section and clearing that karking building! Once its clear, we'll regroup up here and keep pushing! Hey! Keep punishing 'em!">

The crooked grin spread across her lips and she nodded once, reaching back to pat the outside of his leg briefly. Heard and acknowledged, best of luck. She tore her focus from him and went back to work, grasping the lock with both hands and racking it back toward her chest. Reports from the flanking group had brought the news of successful suppression to her, allowing her attention to move elsewhere temporarily. Temporary relief. Her head twisted, watching as Kolson posted and set to move, waiting for her intervention.

Rather than cast order for others to cover him, she took the initiative, knowing full well they were about to walk into a hornet's nest. <"Cover me!"> She bellowed, hugging the barrel of her cannon as she whirled it about, covering the movement of the clearing contingent with its hellacious mouth. Over their heads, insurgency popped from the busted windows of upper floors. <"Up top, I got 'em!"> Her voice rang out over the coms, proceeding the surging hum of her weapon's charge. The ground shuddered as another powerful blast was spat out, punching a hole clean through the building, leaving nothing but a smoking wound on its upper edge. Not even loosened debris trickled from it, as the force of her blast had been powerful enough to propel the brick and steel destroyed far from its original location, launching it far off the rear face of the structure. The blaster screech from above was silenced as quickly as it had begun without so much of a whisper in resistance.

<"It's a bad day to be in New Adasta,"> she remarked, adjusting her grip on the trigger mechanisms with a glance cast to the soldiers continuing to lay down fire from the east, where they received it back in an equal push. <"Keep on 'em, don't let it up!">

Fire licked her back as plasma splashed, dissipating against her plated torso with enough force to shove her sideways. It was a dull ache, nothing more, and later it would bruise. Regardless, it was enough to earn her attention and she whipped herself about, pivoting the cannon on its point of anchor to lay down another short burst of suppressive concussion, shredding through the resisting forces who had emerged on her left. <"Grunge, you've got 'em coming from your right, watch your ass!">

The kinetic flechettes she launched in rapid burst shredded through the soldiers who roved toward the windows of the building only just breached by the invaders, ripping them to pieces with the blink of an eye and painting the glass in whatever was left behind. A horrific way to die, though merciful in its swiftness, and effective enough in the mere psychological effect it had on those who witnessed it. And orchestrating it all, Sephi had turned cold to the carnage, watching it unravel with glazed, distant eyes.

The same remained hawkish in her vigil over the breaching soldiers.

Right up until a single shot rang out above them all, echoing from the upper reaches of the plaza, though distant.

<"Sni-"> She only managed to get out the first syllable before pain splintered her voice and shattered her train of thought. White consumed her vision, turning red hot in an instant with the struggle of her brain to register what had just happened. Liquid heat rushed down her stomach, soaking through her fatigues. Then, she was in the dust, staring up at the shadow of her cannon looming over her, <"-get down-"> the rest of the warning was squeezed out of her gasping lungs and fell out of her mouth mechanically.

<"Nova's hit!"> One of the Crusade's troopers shouted, crawling toward her as he threw himself to the earth.

<"Enemy sniper; foxtrot-two-oh!"> Another called out in warning, <"Where's the medic!?">​

ALLIES | NIO | AC | Kolson Vrask Zark San Tekka DECEASED Erskine Barran Ishida Ashina
ENEMIES | TSE | N Nyxeris Laertia Io | OPEN FOR DIRECT ENGAGEMENT

 

[DarrVack]

Allies: The Sith Empire - Darth Strosius
Enemies: AC / GA / NIO
Objective: Protect the Bastille
Location: Prison - Lower Levels

Spoiler: Equipment, Units and Ships

Equipment
Red Lightsaber
Red Light Whip
Battle Armour (Holstering: 75 Gallons of Dioxis)
Large Power Chair
Mindstone
EWR-52 'Purge' Flamethrower

Units
15x XF-72a
15x Sith-Imperial Probot
5x KS-05 Goliath Stampede
200x OMYN-series Battle Droid

Ships
1 Squadron Ajunta-class StarFortress

Darr was floating, at least it was the sensation. Inside his armour he had always felt safe, it was his home, and how he interacted with his environment. This right here felt like that but at the scope of an ocean, as if he could swim into any direction and never really meet its end. The iron giant hadn’t moved since indulging in his mediation, but it appeared to him as if he had travelled hundreds of miles. This planets darkness was so vast in nature that it almost swallowed those souls reaching out to it. Although he imagined this darkness was now growing and festering, consuming all those lost in the battle, nourishing itself in their pain, their suffering and their despair. It was difficult to imagine how many must have perished here over the millennia’s and how many more would in the onslaught to come.

In his exploration of the dark side forces nesting, he too grew in power like a sponge drawing in the essence until he was utterly saturated in it.

Another part of his fluid brain matter capsuled off from the thought invoked Ugorian was otherwise occupied listening in on radio chatter and observing report logs. There were numerous soldiers posted throughout the massive garrison and nearly as many of his own droids to assist. Yet very little actually “happened”, almost too little.

Did the Jedi have no interest in freeing those enslaved leftovers of their previous campaigns?

Having looked at some profiles of those detained here he wouldn’t think so, apprentices, lieutenants, even some upper echelon knights had fallen from grace in these halls, was really no one out for their rescue?

Well, maybe they needed some incentive. The hulking juggernaut suddenly sprung to life, his red eye sockets lighting up in a menacing shade. The Detergent Sith was not known for his patience not in warfare at least.

Let us see who is watching…

With that, he squeezed his huge frame through the corridors after having reinstated the warden to be in charge of monitoring his prison again.

A few floors deeper the Sith Overseer reached his destination, an entire holding block dedicated to force sensitives. The younglings would be re-educated and turned, others would find salvation as offerings for rituals. Some of the more experienced warriors among them had been successfully squeezed dry of valuable insights while others were yet to have this chance. Either way, he could sense their struggle, their minds slowly drifting, a few holding on tightly to their last shred of dignity and sanity.

DarrVack glow brightened as he called upon the force, he reached out with his mind, dripping, oozing tentacles that latched onto their psyche, their innards. A few began to squirm, most were noticeably panicking in their cages but no one had in them to really put up a fight.

The air around the colossus began to shutter, he seemed to vibrate as snaps and cracks of energy erupted around him before instantly disappearing again, the manifestations of his powers.

Sing for me

A choir of agony ensued, the corridors filled with screams of anguish as Darr inflicted pain upon all of them. Their thoughts twisted in angst and their bodies aching and twitching, he would release pulse after pulse of woe upon them. Their misery brought forth a swooping wave of sorrow that first washed up against the inside walls that protected the instalment but would ultimately spill over and into the surrounding vicinities.

Now was there truly no one that would answer their calls?

 

[SF-3335]

Location: New Adasta, Ziost
Allies: TSE ( The Battalion ) │ EE ( Ingrid L'lerim D Darth Malus ) │ CIS ( Laertia Io )
Enemies: AC ( Cedric Grayson ) │ NIO ( DECEASED Erskine Barran Amadeus Blackwood )
Tempest Squadron: FAE/V-07 “Atroxa” Attack Speeder Bike (10)
Unit Support: “Assagai” Sith Eternal Light AT-PW (20) │ Lanvorak-type Heavy Repulsortank (5) │ All-Terrain Heavy Artillery (AT-HA) (5) │ “Emeici” Sith-Imperial Shock Speeder Bike (100)

A race against time.

While in a vacuum, nagnol gas could remain in a given area for an indefinite period of time, in atmosphere, the substance would slowly dissipate in the air from the moment it was deployed. As such, the squads of Emeici speeder bikes spared no delay in penetrating the gas, entering along the front, the flanks, and the rear. Then, the bikes initiated a coordinated course of harassing hit-and-fade attacks, leveled against Cataphracts, Galidraani Infantry, AFVs, and other valid military targets that they could feasibly engage to some effect with the mounted twin missile launchers and primary guns. A few of the bikes were even equipped with Hellpyre flamethrowers, which were used primarily for area denial, to prevent the already-slow Cataphracts from straying outside the gas. While the lighter Emeicis could escape the cordon of fire by briefly raising their altitude limiters, it was hoped that the heavily-armored Galidraani beasts would find it more difficult to do the same, to potentially trap the tanks and heavy vehicles for some time.

All the while, as soon as Tempest Squadron ran dry of nagnol gas, Lieutenant FX-0012 delivered new orders to his pilots.

“Tempests, do not engage. RTB for resupply. We need more gas.”

“Sir, we can help the Emeicis take the Galidraanis now! They’re already blind!”

“You’re right, but someone has to keep them that way.” The Lieutenant answered, his tone firm, yet calm as he nodded to the other pilots. “RTB, now! There’s no time to waste, that gas will be gone in less than ten minutes. We can get back in five, if we hurry. Let’s move!”

Engines roared as the speeder bikes of Tempest Squadron sped back into the city, avoiding engagements to focus only on returning to base for resupply. Once they arrived at the base, the technicians scrambled to work on their machines, adding fresh gas magazines to the projectile launchers. However, an additional last minute request was made by the Lieutenant, to add nerve gas magazines as well. SF-3335 couldn’t hazard a guess regarding her commander’s intentions, but so far, he had proven to be competent, even if he was more patient than she would have liked.

The technicians worked with military efficiency in resupplying the bikes, even as the sounds of violence in the city pounded against their ears. Before long, SF-3335 remounted and powered her machine back on, before accelerating after her partner, knowing that time was of the essence in executing each of the constantly shifting elements of her commander’s plan. While they were bloodthirsty, this was how the strand-casts were conditioned to fight, with firm, unyielding discipline and glue-like cohesion to overcome otherwise impossible odds. For her part, SF-3335 did not intend to be the broken link in the chain, a weak element of the design. She knew her role and would fulfill it to the highest of her ability, and then beyond.

As there, along the Northern outskirts of New Adasta, the mechanical wolves of Galidraan were on the hunt.

Spoiler: Loadout

• FAE/V-07 “Atroxa” Attack Speeder Bike
  • Modular Gun Hardpoint (4)
    • FAE/W-05 “Kopa Khan” Rotary Particle Beam Cannon
    • FAE/W-05 “Kopa Khan” Rotary Particle Beam Cannon
    • FAE/W-05 “Kopa Khan” Rotary Particle Beam Cannon
    • FAE/W-05 “Kopa Khan” Rotary Particle Beam Cannon
  • Modular Launcher Hardpoint (2)
    • Izumo Man-Portable Energy Torpedo Launcher
    • Izumo Man-Portable Energy Torpedo Launcher
  • Universal Chemical Projectile Launcher (2)
    • Nerve Gas
    • Nagnol Gas
  • Pilot Gear
    • DS-101 “Venture” Multipurpose Protective Attire
      • Energy Shield
        • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
    • X8 “Gambit” Elite Disruptor Pistol

Spoiler: Summary of Actions

• Emeici Speeder Bikes begin to engage Galidraani forces
  • Some are equipped with flamethrowers, which are being used as area denial weapons
• At the same time, Tempest Squadron returns to base to restore stocks of Nagnol gas and to add Nerve gas to loadouts. By the end of the post, they are en route back to their original position along the Northern outskirts of New Adasta.

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

V
GALIDRAANI FREE-STATE
BLUE-HEART BRIGADE

KILL THEM ALL AND LET GOD SORT THEM OUT

OBJECTIVE 1: JUDGEMENT DAY
ZIOST, 865 ABY

Commonwealth Forces: Amadeus Blackwood

Allies (NIO): Noel Strasza Julian Qar Kolson Vrask

Allies (AC/GA/FO/SJC): Cedric Grayson Sephi Karneh Isla Draellix-Kobitana Zark San Tekka Dagon Kaze Mrurh'en'lase | Hel Ishida Ashina Aaran Tafo

Enemies (TSE/CIS/EE): Ingrid L'lerim N Nyxeris Laertia Io D Darth Malus SF-3335 The Battalion Eva Betrik

Lord Erskine's Loadout
Primary: Custom Blaster-Pistol (Right-hip Holster - left-or-right hand draw)
Secondary: Basket-Hilted Vibrosword Claymore (Left-hip Sheathe - right hand wielding)
Last Ditch/Second-Blade: Myles' Fairbairn Vibroknife (Right-hip Sheathe - right-or-left hand wielding)
Pocket-Weapons: Berach's Brass Knuckles (Both Trouser-Pockets - akimbo wielding)

Blue-Heart Brigade (Mechanized-Infantry)
220 Cataphract Tanks
32 AFVs
6 ACVs
1 Battalion of Riflemen
1 Company of Combat-Engineers
1 Company of Elite Combat-Medics

The Hell of New Adasta: Part 7 - BLUE-HEART ALPHA OUT!

02:38:02 Elapsed​

With every hand available either manning the walls already, or setting tanks into decent firing-positions all around the medical-compound's inner pathways, the Stormchaser was given time to patch requests through to the allies he was supposed to be meeting on the move, giving new updates on the 2nd Brigade's defensive stance and the problems they had encountered that would merit the sudden change in tactics. It wasn't going to be an easy day for the medical compound or it's defenders, but Lord Erskine knew for a fact he could carry his part of the day if he played his cards right, seeing it as a test of his wit as opposed to his usual tests of will, understanding the dynamic of his friend's besieged redoubt. With Darth Malus, the surviving passengers of the Sanctuary, and SF 3335's speeder-bike contingent working to keep them penned in, the Blue-Hearts would gladly play the collective role of archetypal matadors in the impending assault, glad to test their mettle from the back-foot for a change.

<<Hello again, Eclipse One.
Looks like I had no choice but to let you come to me after all! It would also be for the best if you moved around that gas-cloud - it doesn't kill you, it only goes after your electronics and such. Just meet us at the Carlaci Corps' medical compound in the south, but do us all a favour and approach us from the south or the southeast, at least then we can cover for units we're expecting to approach from that general direction. Good luck out there, and keep your damned heads down! That's an order.
Blue-Heart Alpha out.>>

All the Carlaci had been drawn in to defend the wounded, the compound and their esteemed commanders, so it made sense for Erskine to enact the same for all the Galidraani elements on the ground, subconsciously avoiding the repetition of the heartache experienced by the Blue-Hearts during their first deployment to Ziost; however, the solution would be a well-timed collective sallying attempt at the right time, but all the right playing pieces had to be assembled for the Lord-Commander's plan to work, so Barran was quite content dishing out defensive bombardments to his enemies' cover for as long as the need for the,"shell-shield", was still present. Much of the tech that drove the Cataphracts was considered archaic for the sort of sparks the gas could stifle, including that of the smoothbores and the impact-charges built into the shells that were fired from such turret-technology, but the Goliaths would have floundered in this scenario, both a relief and a stark reality of what awaited the hypothetically-deployed remnants of,"Ilum Brigade", so soon.
Wait a minute, someone needs modern tech to survive-

'Barran to Deader! Skipping the wholesome heartfelt stuff and saving it for later, we know what happened here and there's no use drudging that stuff up any more than we have already.... Besides, it would appear we have more-pressing matters to attend to. Our enemies in the north have made a point of deploying Nagnol gas, nasty stuff to anything resembling intricate tech, so I advise you stay well away from it until the residue-cloud dissipates. Can't be helped, mate. Further Sit-Reps impending. Blue-Heart Alpha out!'

Having Strasza around was very handy, but with her forward-operating beyond the gas-cloud, this would make coordinating difficult for a while; and yet, Erskine knew it wouldn't be needed, as Noel was well versed in harrying enemy lines and racking up confirmed-kills, quietly closing in on her foes like a violent shadow when required. Yet still, besides the ripping, tearing Deader herself, Strasza's subordinates would encounter problems of their own, even if only minor in comparison to those of the warrior-woman leading them. Though the safety of Noel's men was always kept in mind, Barran was forced to let his mind address the fact he hadn't coordinated with the 342nd Star Corps of the Galactic Alliance marines, knowing that Zark San Tekka would be of great help if the fight against the Sith became as arcane as it had in the Second Battle of Ziost; the clashing storms of light and darkness would never be forgotten, especially not when that glowing orb of light left the Stormchaser so awestruck when he saw what it was doing to damage the opposing storm to such powerful effect.

'Barran to Godfather! Good to have you with us on Ziost again, and it would be my honour if I could introduce myself formally in person.... If this sounds like fun, we can be found stirring up a hornet's nest from the comfort of Julian Qar's medical compound in the south. Be mindful of the Nagnol gas, though. Non-lethal, but your tech will be rendered useless by it. Swing around it and approach from the south, you'll be expected and well-covered on your way here from that direction. Blue-Heart Alpha out!'

The last of the Brigadier-General's backseat (gurney) plays had been made, all his tanks readied for another sustained barrage at their Lord-Commander's order, and with no more preparations left to make, Erskine had no choice but to sit back and watch his saline drip slowly emptying itself, drip by drip. Luckily for the Blue-Hearts manning the walls, and also for those placed elsewhere within the compound, the gas-cloud's edges weren't swelling much farther beyond the flickering 100m range-marker light, dissipating as the replacement wisps billowed out behind them. No real issues awaited them, but only if they kept a respectful distance away from the temporary strategic hindrance. Lifting up his comm-link device one more time, Lord Erskine just shrugged and said,'All Cataphracts, this is Barran! Time for some smoothbore distance-shooting, as I want all the ground from three to four kilometers away cleared out now. Our opponents must believe they're running out of places to hide behind, and that northern corridor is the easiest in New Adasta to exploit..... Yees Wanty know how ah know?', leaving the comm-chatter conclusion hanging with a question for the troops.


<"Proost to Blue-Heart Alpha! It's because we're set in the perfect positions to spring a collective counterattack from, we're sallying out at some point. Am I right or Am I right, Milord?">

 

[Ishida Ashina]

OBSCURING GLARE
ZIOST | NEW ADASTA | THE NEW JEDI ORDER
THERE ARE TWO KINDS OF LIGHT;
THE GLOW THAT ILLUMINES
AND THE GLARE THAT OBSCURES

HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME

​

“Help them?” Ishida spat, mostly to herself. Not really loud enough to impose on the exchange Aaran was heading.

There was absolutely no way she was in the wrong. The disorder of her mind had a sort of sacredness that made her rationale and reason untouchable. There was no flaw –– there couldn't be. She was a student of Sardun; his pedagogical methods left no room for misunderstanding. The scathing burn of the light was as incandescent as it was illuminating, and she saw their evil for what it was. Conscription was a pathetic excuse. They could just die instead. Shorten the lifelong epic of survival by mercifully choosing to off themselves.

His lightsaber retracted, fizzling out of existence. It was supposed to be an extension of himself, of his warrior’s impact –– and the moment he deferred it, he lost his imposing prowess and Ishida sank lower in her perception of the so-called Battlemaster of the New Jedi Order.

Suddenly, she felt nothing more than hollow loneliness, trapped with a body that had betrayed her and a will that couldn’t save her. Aaran’s outreach and blind altruism made it worse. Every word he spoke reaped more and more consequence. Soon, it would be beyond his control.

She thought she’d known frustration before this, like a deep-rooted hunger that couldn’t be satiated now matter how many darksided creatures she slayed. The vacancy their banter created in her world was ugly to witness. There was no way to cover her ears and block out the world the Sith’s conscript and Aaran were creating. No way to rock it gently away, to pretend she was elsewhere or hum so there was nothing left. No blankets nearby to hide beneath so she could feel hugged and comfortable with the paradoxes of her mind and all she was forced to witness. All the signals that were trying to make sense as she watched. He didn’t understand her pain, her perspective. He didn’t understand what he was doing. All the harm to come from this undoing of a fight.

They were living, wicked things. They’d be easier dealt with if they were dead. With that sash over his eyes, it was clear he couldn’t see the true intentions of the killers in armour. They weren’t even bold enough to show their faces, giving themselves mystique and protection behind a façade of their helm –––

"I am Corporal Betrik..." "Eva. I'm Eva."

Eva..she..she said her name! The murderous wench delivered her name in exchange for salvation. It damned her further in Ishida’s mind. Equipped with a rank and a name, she’d never escape.

A heavy rhythm, like a thunderous heartbeat, pounded in her head. Her ears numbed to any further exchange between the ambassadors of idiocy. The exchange was dizzying, and she moved to press her palm against the nearest surface to steady herself –– but stopped. She couldn’t look weak. Not here, not now. Wounded or not, worthless in mortality, she was still a harbinger of Ashla’s will.

Cruel desire nestled deeply in the arched marrow of her being, calcifying and making itself comfortable. She was dangling on a leash of her own longing, her own yearning, and that need to end this foolery was starting to grow teeth powerful enough to gnash and bite. A sneer crawled across her thin, bloodied lips and her throat quivered with little more than a humming growl.

That leash was tightening around her throat, and it was becoming more and more of a fight to breathe. She peered forward, glaring at the assortment of humans and their posturing. Two of the SICA agents were preoccupied with either administering care, or receiving it. The third, this Eva, had her hands up and was talking to Aaran. She and Aaran posed the greatest threats to her desired outcome right now, though the one administering the med kit to the fallen massive man did have firearms within reach.

If only she had The Force. If she had The Force, she could cut them all down before they had a chance to open fire. If she only… she stretched out a hand, intent on yanking the firearm next to the SICA agent’s side into her grip. She’d close the distance between them with the plasma of their own design. Concentrating through their dialogue, she imagined it snapping to her palm, cutting through the distance. She’d aim for the neck of Eva first, then the other two, then…

The blaster stayed right where it was.

Devastation flooded through her veins, and her eyes went wide with the confirmation of her fear. Where her body used to be typhonic with supernatural currents, she felt barely a trickle. If anything, the blaster only nudged slightly. Barely perceivable.

Completely aghast, Ishida wilted. Everything that was going on within her little body burgeoned into a mess of agitations. Neurons firing against neurons, cells exploding in conflict with helpful antibodies. The man-made bio-chemical assailants and aids pumping through her bloodstream were creating an overstimulating elixir that bubbled and frothed in contest with her spiking emotions. Nausea tickled at her cheeks, soaking her throat and pushing liquid behind her teeth. Herr chest heaved up and down just before she leaned forward and dispelled all her upset, all her rage, all her fury, all her disappointment, all her conflict, all her righteous retribution ––– right on the floor in front of her.

ALLIES | ASHLAN CRUSADE | NJO | NIO| Aaran Tafo
ENEMIES | TSE | Eva Betrik

 

[Julian Qar]

Field Hospital Stats
[[CODE BLACK]]
[[FACILITY LOCKDOWN]]

Doctor	Julian Qar
Resident	Hazel
Medical Staff	??? UNKNOWN
Supplies	??? Unknown
Universal Plasma	??? Unknown
Bacta Spray	??? Unknown
Bacta Patches	??? Unknown
Wounded	INC Staff Casualties

FIELD MEDICAL REPORT
Protected Document: █ █ █ B-10070 █ █ █

Obj I: Judgement Day
- - -
Field Hospital | Triage Ready
Medical Narrative

Ready to serve NIO + Allies: DECEASED Erskine Barran | Cedric Grayson | Sephi Karneh | Dagon Kaze | Kolson Vrask | + Others

Bad Guys: Red Boys fucken showed up. Damn. D Darth Malus

☤
✚ P A L P I T A T I O N S ✚
[ + + + ]
​

Mechanized lungs heaved with exhaustion, the whir and rumble of his machine sounding off loudly as it pumped coolant throughout his veins and internal tubing to keep him from overheating. Had his systems been organic, he would have been winded and felt a different type of burn swarm through his chest cavity.

The world around him was silent now, leaving the bustling field hospital to appear more like a ghost town than anything. He relished in this moment, surprisingly enough, knowing his team had been tucked away into their pods for safety. He was next to follow, but instead decided to be a bit reckless and watch the blasts unfold overhead. Julian sights snapped upward, bringing his clanking legs to halt when he heard the roar of cannons fire their first assault. The force shook the ground beneath his feet, as one shot became two and so on. A cloud of dark smoke and flames grew from the ship's side. The doctor held his breath while he watched as the Sanctuary was blown off course from his hospital and devoured by smoke.

“Hoo-llly…frzzzzzuck.” The doctor furrowed his brow as an ungodly sound of grinding metal came from his throat. Seems the rebreather had malfunctioned due to the heavy intake of air from his sprint around the hospital. He was well aware that this body, formed of blackened titanium, was not meant to go through the hell he’d put it through those few months. Especially without some routine recalibration on his part. He shook away the sound, clearing his throat to set his chords back in place. Though he would not make the call for them to evacuate, not until the smoke had cleared and the earth stopped rumbling with agony over its new cavernous wound.

In this moment of solitude, Julian braced against a wall, turning his focus to the datapad in his hand that showcased tiny green pins tucked away into their little caves. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were a target, making a note to himself to meet with the security team to up their awareness and sweeps throughout the facility. He wasn’t unfamiliar with the cursed ground of New Adasta, how unfair and ruthless it was from the start.

<“Un--zziut...onnrr…”> He spoke out loud, groaning as he pinched at the skin below his voice box hoping to slip the vocal disks back in place with brute force. It all came out as static, as he forced a sigh and ticked the box to release a couple pods just a few feet south of where he stood.

A storm of silence blanketed the hospital, sending a shiver through the bits of organic matter left throughout his frame. He could feel it, the pain of pins forced under his nails, a rope tightening around neck siphoning fear out of him. It was a similar chaotic energy that radiated from the Lord of Ice whenever he was near the doc, it made his stomach churn and his sensitivities ramp up. Before he could even pick up the data pad to open the com link and give his team the all clear, twenty red pins turned black, flatlines and warnings infiltrated his internal HUD. The sound of explosions and screaming replaced the silence. The smell of cauterized flesh lifted into his nose. And then he heard him…that voice

Come out, come out, wherever you are!

He wasn’t alone.

He would move swiftly, forcing his hand to his side out of instinct...but he found no blaster there. He was unarmed, save for the pack that rested on his hip and the blade tucked inside of his boot. He patched into the blue hearts com link again, into the carlaci line - but what came out was the same frantic clank of scrapping metal within this throat.

<”--sssxxfff...Un...// Derr….a----t--zzzz---ack!!!!!!…”>

<”--sssxxfff...Un...// Derr….a----t--zzzz---ack!!!!!!…”>

✚ ✚ ✚​

█ █ █

 

[Zark San Tekka]

342ND STAR CORPS
NEW ADASTA RUINS
STYGIAN CALDERA
Cedric Grayson DECEASED Erskine Barran Kolson Vrask Sephi Karneh
Liedran Kathause Ishida Ashina Aaran Tafo
DarrVack SF-3335 Darth Strosius Eva Betrik D Darth Malus

​

Behind enemy lines.

Galactic Alliance drop pods were still landing across New Adasta's ruins. General San Tekka and the rest of the 181st Legion were spread out in pockets well ahead of the NIO and Ashlan advance. Most of his assembled marines were still 912th Attack Battalion. Commander Dane's Torrent Company heavies believed no problem could not be solved with the use of superior firepower. Zark's exposed ears rang from near constant repeater cannon fire.

"Blue-Heart Alpha, this is Godfather. They say the strongest stars burn with hearts of kyber. No go on the southern rendezvous. We're foot mobile north of your position. We must place our trust in the Force."

"General San Tekka!" Dane called out between cannon bursts, "We need to move!"

"Change of plans. We're heading south."

Already Zark's exposed features were covered in the same ash that marked this city as a corpse. His fingers brushed protectively against a pure aurodium locket and the ebon likeness within before tucking it back away beneath rusting combat plate. South of the Jedi General's position clouds of nagnol gas were intermittently punctured by obscured explosions or an overwhelming barrage of blaster fire. Barran's dolorous galidraani cheer over comms could only mean the Free State was under imminent threat.

"You sure about this, sir? We'll be blind in all that nagnol."

"I don't need sensors to see. What's the matter, Dane? Don't trust my magic?"

Dane snorted derisively but nodded. While he laid down a swathe of covering fire the other marines fell back into the cover of nagnol before General San Tekka used his lightsaber and the Force to cover Dane's own retreat. He could sense the Star Corps marines grow nervous when their tactical augments shut down leaving them with only comlink static, their own breath, and what each trooper could see out their visor. Zark wore only a Jedi rebreather yet he couldn't see much more. Instead he relied on the Force to guide his movements and kept his blade ready to strike.

"Sir! What's wrong?"

Zark stumbled and fell. It was not the gas. He could sense caged souls crying out in desperate agony. Their torment pierced his powerful mind like a buried dagger. He leaned against Commander Dane for support. Behind the marine's visor San Tekka glimpsed wild eyes brimming with superstitious fear. For a Thracian the Force could only be comprehended as otherworldly sorcerer tricks.

"Prisoners...trapped beneath the Bastille. We must rescue them! The Galactic Alliance doesn't leave troopers behind."

"What about the Blue-Hearts?" Dane asked.

"We'll need their help."

 

[Darth Strosius]

Objective: Guard the prisoners
Location: The Prison (dun dun duhn)
Equipment: Lightsaber
Allies: TSE
Enemies: AC / GA / NIO
Tags: DarrVack / Zark San Tekka
------------------------------------

By now Alisteri had gotten quite used to the depressing aura of the prison. As he walked down the hall between the cells, he idly glanced at the prisoners bound within. Some had acted out before the invasion began and as a result were still nursing some bruises, others were simply sitting there and awaiting whatever was to come.

He had little doubt that some of them expected his presence to mean some form of beating, that would certainly explain the dirty looks he could feel in the back of his head. Luckily enough for them he had better things to do than bother a bunch of already-beaten warriors, and he had no desire to do so even if he weren't occupied with his thoughts and orders.

There were Jedi to be defeated, but they were nowhere near here. That thought made his fingers curl into a fist again at the mere thought.

He had little time to release his angered grip before the prisoners in another area seemed to cry out all at once.

The sound reached him before the presence of it did, the sound of fear and pain heralding the arrival of a wave of utter dread and terror. A small hiss left him as he shook his head to clear his mind of the sounds of pain, but that did little to help. He quickly left the cells that he had been patrolling and only paused when the cries of agony began again.

"Who the feth is doing that?!" Alisteri growled and shook his head again to try and steel himself. Whatever power was causing such pain was also starting to wear on his mind, the combined waves giving him a rather uncomfortable headache. "Are they trying to attract attention to this accursed prison!?!" He tapped on his commlink and attemped to send out a message.

"<What in the world is going on? Why is an entire holding area screaming?>"

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

P R O T E C T O R
PROTECTOR OF CONCORD DAWN
ARMOR | LIGHTSABER | PISTOL

STAR EATER​

They wasted no time in setting off. Not like that was a luxury afforded to them anyway. The Ashlan Crusade's march of vengeance had reached Ziost and now was far and away the most opportune time to get what they needed.

It appeared just as he expected, not far off from the Alliance intelligence descriptions of complexes like those found on Orinackra or otherwise. Grey, brutalist, intimidating. The fact it was...here, on a world that had been well acquainted with death and the immense force the Galactic powers were willing and capable of levying unto one another.

Whether it was placebo- a manifestation of Maynard's own tortured memories or a tangible offness in the air, death was heavy here.

But it was a sensation that seemed to linger everywhere he'd gone, certainly so in these past months to a year. He'd learned to live with it as haunting as the feeling of vindication to the phrase 'memento mori' seemed to be.

Even if his armor, beaten and worn as it was wasn't quite suited for the stealth operation Loske seemed to equip herself for. The days of donning the spacer jacket into every bout of danger were sadly just a burning memory now. He'd been rocked and thrust to the brink of death too many times to neglect it. But for Loske...it seemed to suit her better, in a few different ways.

“I don’t think we have any allies here that aren’t behind cell doors.”

<"Well...in all fairness, we've been pretty low on allies for a while now, love."> He remarked in reply, his voice distorted by the faint vocoding of his helmet. He flicked the visor to infrared vision so that he was able to spot the viewing trajectories of any external surveillance systems in place before extending his right arm out, aiming his arm toward an anchor point at the top of the prison complex before firing it out in a near silent whisper before the cable made purchase on the duracrete. He reached his other hand back to wrap around Loske's thigh to keep her against him before he retracted the rappel line and bring them to the top of the complex.

Ingloriously, they reached their mark and step one was conquered.

Step one of...several, at least.

“She's---Eldaah’s here.”

“The lower levels.”

A few moments after her, he could sense it to. Such was the reverberating consequence of her more innately potent intunement with The Force, at least certainly so in comparison to him.

<"I feel it too. Good."> Meant they were headed in the right direction.

And above all...meant they could take revenge. Felucia, Ziost...Generis.

She had to burn.

Then, they carefully navigated into the prison, Maynard being the eyes spotting the several elaborate surveilence devices in their way as Loske used her agility to plot the path ahead.

Their first obstacle came in the form of passing guards which they seemed to only just barely avoid. Maynard glanced around the corner in their direction, the haunting T-visor gauging their path before slowly easing back to the other side of the wall.

He then made way across the two splitting corridors of the crossway before getting to the other side, glancing back to her in kind.

<"We need a key card...and ideally- access to some terminal so we can ID who all is locked up in this place and uhh- more importantly...where anything is."> He said in a hushed voice back to Loske. For the first time in...maybe ever, he wished he'd brought Buddy along on this. That crafty astromech certainly knew how to get what he needed from scomp link terminals.

Maynard could manage himself in that regard, but certainly wasn't any cyberpunk comparable to Amea Virou . She'd probably be pretty useful here as well.

But with that realization, that they were missing components- he was on the hunt now. He needed to find a guard to incapacitate- or kill and get a node into the prison's server, a pair of eyes on the who's and what's here.

He then shifted his gaze to the names of the rooms above the doors on either side of the corridor.

<"But...no doubt the prison is in the lower levels, could just take a lift down there and see what we're dealing with but- personally. I'd like a layout of what's in-between here and there or we're gonna be out of luck real quick on our exfil."> Maynard suggested before he quietly snuffed his voice at the sound of more booted footfalls, headed down the corridor coming from their left and ahead. Two of them as he could sense from distance and frequency of their steps. He hugged the wall of the corridor before flicking his visor's vision to thermal to get a gauge on their exact location, only a few feet out.

He looked back to Loske, holding up two fingers.

Unlike their last past, he didn't seem to intend on hiding this time.

Each thud of their boots brought them closer and closer, his now visible spectrum eyes fixed on the edge of the doorway which managed to conceal them well enough from being immediately spotted. And just as they passed, he sprouted from the corridor and jumped the one farthest from him, leaving the other for her to dispose of as he wrapped a strong, armored arm around the throat of the one of the guards before pressing his temple against the back of his skull, a move which served to immediately restrict his airflow and cause his blaster to drop to his chest, fixed by the single point sling to his shoulder as he clawed at Maynard's arm for respite.

But Treicolt had none to spare.

He wrenched a vibrodagger from the small scabbard fixed to his chest before burying it into the heart of the guard, the choked breathes curdling with pooling bloodflow as he twisted the blade into him once more and soon enough, he was dead before he hit the ground.

His attention immediately shifted to Loske before he went about searching the body for a key card, anything to get them better access here.

ALLIES | AC | CD | Loske Treicolt | Djorn Bline
ENEMIES | TSE | Eldaah Aderyn

 

[The Battalion]

Ession, Gulag Plague.

Elaine Tear sat across from Rogg, the Trandoshan Jedi, while The Jedi in Black, Morris Crownwraithe, sat to the side of the small table.

Elaine poured the Tea, it's leaves grown on local farms, and passed cups to both. Rogg took a sip. The Jedi in Black simply sat, calm, quiet, looking mostly at Rogg. But never at her.

"Aren't you going to drink your tea?" Elaine asked.

"Give me a few. Stomach's curdling." Morris said.

Elaine took a sip, felt it warm her bones. This was a great honor she had been paid, her school being visited. She was skilled in the blade, and in letting the will of the Goddess flow through her body to empower herself or heal others. But there was still so much she didn't know. Only so much the Holocron had within it. It would do her students good to gain wisdom from someone other than herself.

"I was actually hoping you both might stay a week or so. My students need more ways to manifest The Goddess than I am capable of providing." Elaine mentioned as she slipped some more. "The Economic Damage from The Plague, and the Damage all the Warlords did before the Graysons came ran Ession into the ground, Master Rogg."

"I think we can spare a month or two to help your students." The Trandoshan said merrily. "Morris here is very knowledgeable...he far outstrips my own meager understanding--"

"I can't stay..." Morris said quietly.

Rogg turned to him in surprise, as did Elaine.

"But Morris! It's only a month. You're always moving around. It might do you good to get off that old Dynamic Class of yours."

"I do have other obligations elsewhere, unfortunately." Morris replied politely. "There's plenty out there who need my assistance. I only barely managed to make time for this, I'm afraid."

Elaine frowned. "That's unfortunate. The students here would love to learn from you. They have very eager minds."

"I've no doubt that they do. But I'm afraid I simply don't have the time." Morris answered, staring at his tea cup and not her.

"I see..." Elaine replied, raising an eyebrow. "Well...I thank you for sparing what time you could, Master Crownwraithe."

"Morris..." He corrected, clearing his throat, still not looking at her. "Just Morris."

Elaine nodded respectfully. "Thank you, Morris. I hope someday you come back under more favorable conditions."

"Likewise..." Morris agreed, glancing at a now very curious Rogg.

"Well, I for one have lots of free time, and would be happy to stay as long as you need me to." Rogg offered.

"Would you at least stay the night? At least one night under Ession's starlight can put anybody in a good slumber. I can have rooms cleared for both of you."

"That would be lovely, Master Tear." Rogg said agreeably.

"I'm afraid I must decline your generosity." Morris said calmly, staring at his tea as the steam left it's surface. "I don't sleep well at all on beds not my own. I'd toss and turn all night, I'm afraid."

"You must have a cozy ship. Where did you get that Dynamic Class Freighter? I'm sure there's a story to why you're running around in such an ancient Starship Model." Elaine wondered, trying to draw the quiet man into conversation.

"It...it..." Morris seemed to struggle to find the words, almost choke on them.

"It was a family heirloom. A gift from my Father." He said, composing himself. "He's dead."

"My condolences." Elaine said sincerely. "It's good you keep your Father's memory alive. Y'know, I don't actually think I've heard of the Crownwraithe family before word of your heroics reached Ession, Morris."

"You would not have. They're all dead." He answered quietly, this time staring in that Deer-in-Headlights way at Elaine while Rogg worked on his own tea.

"All of them?" Elaine asked, shocked. "How did it happen?"

Morris paused, staring at his cup of tea.

"Plunderers, and Thieves... looking to take what was ours. They got it."

There was a strange pause between the three. After a moment, Morris stood up. He hadn't even touched the tea.

"Stomach's curdling a bit more than I thought. Thank you for the opportunity to let me rest, Lady Tear. But I really must get to off loading the supplies I brought." He said respectfully before departing for downstairs.

14 Minutes later...

"Hey Morris!"

Morris looked up as he offloaded the Gold Colored Healing Stim crates from his ship, docked close to the Cathedral next to Rogg's ship, a Baudo Class Yacht. Rogg was walking up to him, the Lizard-Man's eyes narrowed in concern.

"What's up?"

"What's with you?! You been acting strange ever since you got here." Rogg said, helping him load a crate onto the repulsorlift. "First you turn down free room and board, and you're all quiet suddenly. What's bugging you?"

"Its nothing, Rogg. Don't fret over it." Morris answered, securing the crate to the lift, Ession's Sun shining in his face.

"Don't fret?! Morris, these people could use our help, and you're turning you're back on them. I know you have more free time than you know what to do with."

"These people..." Morris said firmly, "Are quacks... dangerous quacks. They have a completely improper understanding of The Light and The Force, worshipping it as a Goddess, or whatever. The only reason I'm helping them is because there 'are' people on Ession who suffer, and her people are the best means of efficiently distributing these supplies. But I'm not going to forget who they are."

"Morris... These are nice people." Rogg protested.

"Up until their faith causes them not to be. I know them better than you do. They only listen to the quacks who tell them what they wanna here now. Mark my words...they have the makings of a violent crusade...it only needs opportunity and justification. Stay with 'em a month. You'll see."

Rogg went silent. Obviously, Morris had a lot of baggage with his own people. They continued loading crates in silence...

Present.

The Battalion sawed a screaming soldier in front of his horrified comrades. Darth Xiphos was quick, efficient, relatively merciful as she beheaded them, now working in tandem with the former Essionian Priestess. Fighting side by side as they reflected bolts back at their attackers, Xiphos occasionally stealing a glance at the Battalion's beautiful, linked blade work, at how she smoothly glided and carved apart her oppositions strongest champions in a furious display of mastery.

It should have been Syd at my side for this. Xiphos mourned in private, The Battalion's light red blade dancing through the defense of three separate Imperial Knights, in a seemingly effortless one handed combination of offense and defense, whipping through throat and limb, the grin of bloodshed never leaving her face as she butchered her former people.

As she saw Xiphos conjure a cold blue flame in her hands, The Battalion smirked, and built dark power within herself.

The deep purple flame that erupted from her throat bathed out in the battlefield in front of her, drowning a vast swathe of victims in flames that sapped their morale and caused despair, but couldn't harm them physically. That's what the flames of Xiphos were for, freezing them solid as they lost all hope and the will to fight.

Xiphos turned to her in surprise. The Battalion stared right into her visor.

"Didn't know I could do that huh?" The Witch asked seductively as the Crusade soldiers writhed in the Psychological pain the purple flames caused.

"What were you promised by this cult, Battalion?" Xiphos asked.

"I wasn't promised anything. They opened my eyes to how blind my prior life was. They gave me the gift of Darkness. They could do the same for you. That's all The Amalgam wants really: to enlighten you, so you can finally be happy like she is. Happy the way I am." The Battalion answered, getting closer to her, smiling as she caught a Model 2 break a dude's back Bane-Style in the purple flames.

Xiphos only moved to casually deflect a bolt as The Battalion slid closer.

"There's no future with the Light Side, Xiphos. You may twist it, but sooner or later you will come to a hurdle that is impossible to pass without acquiring more power. All your actions say to the Sith, to the Galaxy, that you don't care about a future where the Light Side is calling the shots. Even your very argument for uniting is coached in the language of simply having the power necessary to crush your enemies. When the Jedi wouldn't bend to reality, you did. What's so bad about taking that final plunge, Julia?" The Battalion asked, right next to her, staring in raw hunger for the Black Knight.

"Your Cult butchered my parents."

"We helped make you one of the single deadliest warriors in The Galaxy. What would you be, if not for us? What would you have?!" The Battalion complained, rolling her eyes. "I hate to break it to you, Julia, but your parents? They weren't saints."

"I'm not some power hungry psychopath." Xiphos retorted, teleporting to behead an Imperial Knight from behind them back.

"Julia, y'know what real sacrifice is? Giving up everything that made you happy to do what you feel is right." The Battalion asserted, Force Choking a Knight until she felt his neck break.

"So much hate...such rage!" She said, shivering in delight as she felt Xiphos's inner turmoil. "If you gave in, truly utilized it...you could be one of the most powerful champions The Sith Empire has ever known. You would instantly gain the full support and resources you need. Plus, allies who genuinely want to kill The Bryn'adul, something we both know the Jedi will never have the stomach for. Allies who won't desert you like those who you cared for did. When I look at you, I see another Tulak Hord in the making." The Battalion said fiercely.

"But it will give The Amalgam what she truly wants." Xiphos said. "And I would never do that."

Xiphos turned back to the fight. The Battalion sighed.

"Patience, patience...souls aren't saved in a day..." The Witch reminded herself, rejoining the fray.

Meanwhile...

As SF-3335 ravaged the forces of DECEASED Erskine Barran with Speeder Bike attacks, a terrible chant signaling the arrival of a vicious, deadly enemy of the Blue Hearts began to make itself known.

It was the Nuetralizers, Marching in 007 columns of fifty units apiece, spreading out to surround all his armored units, Tri-Droids at their side like attack dogs. They sang an ancient Galidraan War Chant in the language of their enemies, playing it up on hidden loudspeakers everywhere around his units as a type of Psychological Warfare tactic, and staying out of range of the gas, soon began shelling his Cataphracts positions with mortars and rockets, raining their Laser Fire in a suppressive manner, to prevent retaliation from individual soldiers.

One Model 2 raised a battle standard, a large pole to which a human, still alive, was lashed to with wires. Lance Corporal Dale McConnell, a survivor of Guardian Company from Vjun.

"HEEEEEELLLLLPPPP MEEEEEEE!!!!" He screamed as he was merilly waved around like a simple Flag.

"HOWDY, BLUE HEARTS! ITS YOUR OLD BUDDIES THE NUETRALIZERS! WE MISSED YOU!" One of them called out over Loud speaker.

"ATTACK!"

The Model 2's began firing their Disruptors...

 

[Amadeus Blackwood]

Eclipse Actual

Location: Asteroid field above Ziost

Engaging: Lilanna Kelamvor

Loadout: Double-bladed lightsaber, blaster pistol, vibroknife

Allies: Isla Draellix-Kobitana , DECEASED Erskine Barran , Cedric Grayson , Julian Qar , Noel Strasza , Zark San Tekka

Enemies: D Darth Malus , TSE

Mene

Amadeus continued pushing forward, despite the growing attention to his activities within the asteroid field. Troops continued to pour into the halls as he made his way toward the source of the energy... toward her. He still couldn't wrap his head around her reasons for being here. Was she a prisoner? Deep cover perhaps? There had to be something... he couldn't imagine her actually choosing to defend a Sith outpost. Whatever the reason, he would likely find out shortly.

Another squad of troopers turned the corner as he pushed for the center of the facility, training their weapons on him. As they fired, Amadeus sent the bolts right back at them, dropping several of them in the process. Amadeus could keep this up for hours, if need be. His years of training had taught him to reserve his energy, allowing him to keep fighting longer than the average combatant. The truth, however, was that he didn't have hours...

He had to make a move.

Amadeus began to pick up the pace, closing the gap between himself and the remaining troopers. The hail of blasterfire continued as he ran through the hall. Calling out to the Force, Amadeus leapt forward, diving through the air and over the heads of the troopers, landing behind them before dealing the killing blow.

The closer he got to her, the more he felt a certain, strange level of calmness wash over him; a more clarified sense of focus that he often lacked. It was the single strongest driving force for him, allowing him to continue the dance of death through the station halls. By the end, there would be a long, bloody trail behind him, but he paid no mind. Every Sith trooper felled was another notch on his belt of atonement. Every Sith-sympathizing breath cut short put him closer to redemption in the eyes of his people.

And yet... none of that was at the forefront of his mind...

He only thought about her.

Roland Thorne: Eclipse One

Location: New Adasta

Objective: Rendezvous with the Blue Hearts

The initial movement out was relatively smooth; Eclipse Company was built for quick maneuvers and lightning-fast attacks. They pushed forward with swift ferocity, advancing toward the enemy lines of New Adasta as a singular, cohesive machine of war. Roland lead the advance personally, keeping an eye out for the first signs of enemy fire. The endless number of fallen comrades that had previously walked this same ground was not lost on the man. After all, the Sith were a clever enemy, and twice as merciless. If they were to win the day, they would likely have to be twice as ruthless as any Sith...

Luckily, that was Eclipse Company's MO.

Roland signaled for the rest of the troops to hold position as he received the transmission from DECEASED Erskine Barran . He quickly activated the comlink in his helmet, sending a coded transmission back to Lord Barran.

<<Eclipse One to Blue Heart Alpha. Message received, altering our path now. Appreciate the heads up about the gas, that certainly would have put a wrench in the gears. Eclipse Company will sweep around and approach from the South. We are currently on foot, but no worries, we'll be there before you can say "Lord Imperator". Will be in touch once we begin the counterattack. You and yours just keep the eyes of those Sithies on you, and off of us. Eclipse One out!>>

Roland turned to one of the troopers, a Corellian man named Tycho Vosk. He was a recent addition to Eclipse Company, but had already done more than enough to prove himself. A man of a cold, composed nature, Vosk had come under Roland's radar while putting down a Sith mining operation on the Outer Rim. The man was a former Sith sniper, and had put down several of Roland's companions before they were able to stop him. Usually Roland would have executed the man, but he found himself hesitant to turn away such talent. Giving him the opportunity to defect was met with apprehension from the others within Eclipse Company, but those worries had long been put to rest. After all, in the end, all of them were once working for the Sith, and all of them had a shift in loyalty.

He quickly motioned toward the general direction of the medical facility as he spoke.

"Lord Barran and his armor are held up at the med center. We are to advance from the South for a counterattack. Problem is, we have a whole bunch of Nagnol gas between us and the med center, so we'll have to go around. I'm gonna need you to take a few men and move ahead of us. You should be able to find a path around that accommodates a smaller group. Once you're there, you're gonna be on overwatch. I wanna know if anything is coming our way before its too late."

Vosk gave a quick nod.

"Good thing I brought my slugthrower."

From behind his helmet, Roland smiled.

"Lookin' forward to the rendezvous. Lets move."

Vosk started to turn when Roland grabbed his arm.

"And Vosk, do me a favor... don't get yourself killed."

 

[Julian Qar]

Field Hospital Stats
[[CODE BLACK]]
[[FACILITY LOCKDOWN]]

Doctor	Julian Qar
Resident	Hazel
Medical Staff	??? UNKNOWN
Supplies	??? Unknown
Universal Plasma	??? Unknown
Bacta Spray	??? Unknown
Bacta Patches	??? Unknown
Wounded	INC Staff Casualties

FIELD MEDICAL REPORT
Protected Document: █ █ █ B-10070 █ █ █

Obj I: Judgement Day
- - -
Field Hospital | Triage Ready
Medical Narrative

Ready to serve NIO + Allies: DECEASED Erskine Barran | Cedric Grayson | Sephi Karneh | Dagon Kaze | Kolson Vrask | + Others

Bad Guys: Red Boys fucken showed up. Damn. D Darth Malus

☤
✚ T H E _ L A R Y N X ✚
[ + + + ]
​

The price of war was always paid for with blood in the soil. It was a balancing act he understood and teetered on: to give or to take. To choose who was more deserving, who would be an asset and would carry a black tag around their ankle signifying loss for the greater good. And even now, as the smoke lifted, exposing the demon to this sole audience the doctor would have to choose, who lived and who died.

In the end, he would always choose himself.

“Nnnnnnzzz….zzz..nnnnn—nn—nnn!” He sputtered out a relay of broken sounds, jamming his thumb and index under his chin until he could hear the disks pop and hiss under the force. Bloods oozed down those metal onyx tips, covering his attire in a vibrant green and red hue that would separate as it kissed the air around him.

“NO!”

Finally, two letters tied together with hopes to distract the Sith from destroying the facility and killing anymore of his people. He snapped his mouth shut, the taste of iron overwhelmed his taste buds as a split second passed when he input that death riddled command line into his HUD.

[cmd:/ zero-sequence :: Julian_Qar_AX-919-000]

His eyes soon shifted, casting their ghostly white luminance across his brown skin. He no longer responded to fear, to the anxious tremors brought about by his humanity. He would embody the machine that encased him. Quickly he would lower, pulling the blade from his boot and clanking it on his chest, taunting the bull headed beast from his position. “Come’ere you stupid fuck!” He yelled, curling his lip while he took calculated steps forward, beating away at his cavity with the cadence of a war drum.

[00:15:00]

As he walked the line, he would bring up his com links once more : <"Blue heart alpha! ANYONE! There's a Sith in the facility, I'm unarmed, HELP!">

And in those moments, spared only by the chips embedded in his mind, he could only think of one thing, one message he needed cast through the encrypted lines. If this would be his final stand, if this was the moment in which a choice was made he sent those words into the void. He knew she'd get it, always understanding the silence with a smile of acceptance.

Noel Strasza
<“Ni'm Ni ceta, cyar'ika”>
I'm sorry, darlin’.

✚ ✚ ✚​

█ █ █

 

[Isla Draellix-Kobitana]

Location: asteroid field
Allies: Amadeus Blackwood
enemies: N Nyxeris D Darth Malus

There was an almighty flash as one of the Legacy of Ruusan's meteor cannons impacted the turbolaser position closest to the corvettes that it was currently holding at bay. The energy reactor inside the small asteroid exploded, sending a burst of plasma in all directions. Several Ashlan fighters, and more sith fighters using the defensive position as an anchor were sent to a firey death. Moments later, the other turbolaser emplacement asteroid suffered a similar fate as the Hope's Wrath evened the score.

“Threats neutralised, corvettes advance to support fighter wings” came the order over the comm to the attacking forces. The two principalities slid forward into range, one of them still struggling from the surprise hit it had taken when the batteries first revealed themselves. The two corvette's point defence batteries, predictably started to turn the tide of the battle against the defenders of the base and they began to bombard the guardian base with turbolaser and concussion missiles fire of their own, looking for weakpoints in the bases defences.

“This is flight leader, fighter squadrons 3 through 7 press the attack to quadrant four, it looks like they are making a break for it” The Ashlan fighter squadron chased down the fleeing sith, straight into an ambush, more fighters and a small escort corvette, bristling with laser cannons appeared from behind a nearby rock and turned on the pursuit, quickly thinning the numbers of the Ashlans and routing them back toward the main, swirling melee of opposing fighters.

Isla watched the live holofeed of the combat, the Ashlans still had the advantage but the stubborn sith were making them pay heavily for the victory, it would not be long though before her star destroyers had cut through the asteroids and were able to put barrages into both the guardian base and the main repository base. She looked up and out of her main view port, watching as the light from the two turbolaser batteries exploding several minutes ago arrived at the Divine Purpose.

Several more ships had come in and out of the system claiming humanitarian protection. The Ashlan fleet had been performing in depth scans and had been forced to board several ship, so far though, no further incidents like the Sanctuary had occurred. Reports from the ground were not good and there had been numerous casualties.

There was another distant flash, looking back at the holo she was happy to see that the corvette that had had the audacity to ambush her fighters had now been neutralised, energy signature indicated a main reactor breach, one of her own corvettes had taken damage in the blast, she wondered if there had been an attempt at a ram. Both of the lead corvettes were damaged and were probably in a position where they should pull back, but her captains were pressing their advantage hard. “Captain, send a couple of patrol frigates in after those corvettes, the asteroid field looks thinned enough that their shields can handle the last bits of debris, I dont want to lose those corvettes after their excellent performance today”

“Right away admiral”

Very soon the guardian base would fall and the way would be open to support the assault on the main base, if the Imperials could take down the shields on that repository, this part of the mission could be over quickly.​

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

VI
GALIDRAANI FREE-STATE
BLUE-HEART BRIGADE

KILL THEM ALL AND LET GOD SORT THEM OUT

OBJECTIVE 1: JUDGEMENT DAY
ZIOST, 865 ABY

Commonwealth Forces: Amadeus Blackwood

Allies (NIO): Noel Strasza Julian Qar Kolson Vrask

Allies (AC/GA/FO/SJC): Cedric Grayson Sephi Karneh Isla Draellix-Kobitana Zark San Tekka Dagon Kaze Mrurh'en'lase | Hel Ishida Ashina Aaran Tafo

Enemies (TSE/CIS/EE): Ingrid L'lerim N Nyxeris Laertia Io D Darth Malus SF-3335 The Battalion Eva Betrik

Lord Erskine's Loadout (Wielded By Lance-Corporal Yorunarr)
Primary: Custom Blaster-Pistol (Right-hip Holster - left-or-right hand draw)
Secondary: Basket-Hilted Vibrosword Claymore (Left-hip Sheathe - right hand wielding)
Last Ditch/Second-Blade: Myles' Fairbairn Vibroknife (Right-hip Sheathe - right-or-left hand wielding)
Pocket-Weapons: Berach's Brass Knuckles (Both Trouser-Pockets - akimbo wielding)

Blue-Heart Brigade (Mechanized-Infantry)
220 Cataphract Tanks
32 AFVs
6 ACVs
1 Battalion of Riflemen
1 Company of Combat-Engineers
1 Company of Elite Combat-Medics

The Hell of New Adasta: Part 8 - STAND TO, MEN!!!

02:48:02 Elapsed​

Roaring engines in the distance, Emeici speeder-bikes coordinated by one of SF-3335's most-trusted subordinates, were telling Barran all he needed to know of the intellect of his opponent; anti-Ion/EMP tech speeders would find it easy to operate within the Nagnol gas without fault, and in the moment he made this inner-monologuing assumption, the Lord-Commander couldn't help but laugh with appreciation for the intuitive tactics on display. What Erskine didn't know however, was that the Nagnol gas only affected aiming sensors and lock-on features for the fancier tech in the Blue-Heart array, and that the Emeici speeders had no need of such due to the more-nuanced aspects in the way they fought; the Stormchaser was soon to be very impressed, and would soon plan to spring out to what looked set to be a mechanized cavalry-battle.

'They want us out there brawling with 'em, but I'm no stranger to ancient nomadic tactics! Not yet, buddy. Not yet.... We need all our playing-pieces on my board before we can get this shindig underway, and the same rules of our wee game would go for those trying to harry the walls as well.'

Then, out of nowhere, a deep male voice rang out from the northeastern side of medical-compound, approaching the wall with a childlike brazen demeanour as he exclaimed,'Come out, come out, wherever you are!', with every confidence he had already won. It could only have been a Darth, as other, lesser Sith knights would be much quieter about their presence within the walls, and knowing the dark magic that cost his PMC a lot of lives on Hast was similar to that which was at work behind their defensive line; the enemy was inside the redoubt, and Lord Erskine knew then that he needed to act fast, realizing the severity of the situation was mounting with increasing desperation. Though the main threat had been kept outside the walls, the Sith, and all their endless cunning, managed to get a Darth inside the walls without being noticed, though every conceivable pair of eyes were covering the 100m approach to the compound.

<”--sssxxfff...Un...// Derr….a----t--zzzz---ack!!!!!!…”>

'I can fight, Milord. Novanians always were a bit too much for the average Sith-Imperial contingents to handle, so this is why your predecessors used real, steely barbarism to oust us from our lands. This is also why the New Imperial Order chose high-strategy as their method, knowing what our people can achieve when we fight for what we believe in. Let me draw this freak away from the wounded, let me assist Dr. Qar in his fight for survival!'

In times like this, Erskine's warfighting ways would have him roll eyes ruefully, but this was something much more wrathful brewing in the Woad's soul, but the Lord-Commander still calmed his rage for a second before turning to Yorunarr. Barran was moments away from responding when the sound of a war-chant could be heard rising over the fading roar of the regrouping Emeici speeder, joined by more in a rather rousing entrance of their longest-standing rivals. The Nuetralizers had arrived, offering strong reinforcement for the force of 100 light-cavalry speeders, and stepping out fearlessly with a POW shackled in their possession, screaming for help as his captors flaunted him in plain view of his comrades. 'HOWDY, BLUE HEARTS! ITS YOUR OLD BUDDIES THE NUETRALIZERS! WE MISSED YOU!', one roared out defiantly, stating their presence as if it wasn't known to the 2nd Brigade already, and giving the men behind the walls a good look at their brother-in-arms as the real attack neared the moment of outbreak.

<”--sssxxfff...Un...// Derr….a----t--zzzz---ack!!!!!!…”>

'Fine then.... ALL OFFICERS!!!! DRAW VIBROSWORDS, AND FOLLOW YORUNARR TO WHATEVER FIGHT AWAITS YOU WITHIN!!! GOOD LUCK, LADS!!! LEAVE THIS LOT WAE ME!!! MOVE IT!!!!'

As the Nuetralizers' order to,"ATTACK!!!", was roared by the same Model 2, Barran made a choice to go out and meet the problem head-on, but deciding on the spot to take an SA-65 from a Guardian nearby, shooting the POW with a heavy, vengeful heart before moving down towards the guarded postern-gate beneath. Already stepping aside obediently as his glaring approach presented itself to their powerless eyes, the guards at the gate made their promises to lock it up behind him and provide cover on his solo advance for parley. Honouring his opponents and (their fearlessness) with a defiant demeanour of his own, Barran walked out to meet his rivals head on, still firing on the walls until his presence was noted by the compound's attackers; handheld rocket-projectiles would screech over the battlements as he went, but as the Model 2s knew all too well, destruction never made a Stormchaser flinch. This was a man who would stop at nothing to prevail, a man who gazed on his mercy-killing results with gritted teeth, with mood ever-darkening as he passed the corpse of Guard-Corporal Dale McConnell.

'HELLO AGAIN, BOYS!!! WE MISSED THE NUETRALIZERS AN'AW, BUT AH WOULD RATHER WE GOT DOWN TI THE REAL BUSINESS THE-DAY!!! Yes, lads. It's time for a wee parley wae yer mither! Lead the way, boys! We haven't got all day! An' besides, it's BEST WE LEFT THE MECHANISED LOVEBIRDS TO THEIR LITTLE WALTZ!!!'

By God, I sincerely hope you dafties can hear me back there.

The Hell of New Adasta: Part 9 - NOVANIAN INSANITY

​

'Show us what you can do, lad. And may God's eternal light guide your sword-arm to victory! Lead the way, Yorunarr.'

Encircling the position where both Malus and Julian Qar had been tracked to, Captain Brand would be going in with Yorunarr, who was already smiling maniacally at the chance of fighting an actual Darth on his first deployment; pairing off only as far as was needed, the Novanian had every intention of going in on his own, and without any of the other officers involved. This was made all the more obvious when the building had been reached, as when the sword-drawn officers arrived, Yorunarr shouted,'HELLO THERE, JULIAN!!!!! IT'S YOUR NOVANIAN FRIEND, YORUNARR!!!!! CAN YOU HEAR ME IN THERE?!?! A LITTLE BIRDY TOLD ME HAVE STRONG PSYCHEDELICS - AND I NEED SOME IN MY SYSTEM, COMRADE!!! I NEED IT SO I CAN HELP YOU FIGHT THAT SITH IN THERE!!!!!', before rounding on the nearest officers to his position.Calming his tone, knowing that the others would pass the word down the line so the others would be informed on the other side of the building, Yorunarr smiled as he concluded,'Stand down and return to the real fight, good sirs. We can't let a sneaky Sith ruin all the fun now, can we? In any case, I want this fight! And with Julian, I know I can win....'

'As long as you know you can handle it, I genuinely wish you all the best. Just don't let us down by dying, alright? It's not your time yet - trust me, God would've told me if it was. So take one last Heavenly blessing for your sword-arm and get stuck in, Yorunarr!'

With fist-over-heart salute, the Novanian nodded sincere thanks with a smile, letting the Rooster reciprocate the gesture with equalling sincerity, before turning back to boot the nearest door in and shout,'SO WHAT'S THE DEAL THEN, DR. QAR?!?!? WILL YOU PRESCRIBE ME STIMS OR NOT?!?!?!'. Swaggering as he stepped inside with all the vigor of his youth, all the officers returned to their vehicles, (or to lead their men at the battlements) leaving Yorunarr to his fun-and-games as he began to laugh with the most sickeningly malicious cackle, relishing the thought that his true potential as a warrior was close to being realized, seeing it only as an auspicious beginning to his life's true journey. The Novanian could feel the spirits of his ancestors smiling from behind dead skulls in his mind, and though the feeling almost horrified him, something else took Yorunarr's uncertainty away, as if the spirits were dragging off all that doubt and disbelief by their feet.

 

[Lilanna Kelamvor]

.​

O B J E C T I V E: PROTECT THE FACILITY​

Tags: Amadeus Blackwood​

Equipment: Lilanna's Lightsaber, Lilanna's Armor, BG-400 Blaster Pistol.​

​

Amadeus. She halted her approach, the force rippling out towards her. The face coming to her mind, as her foot steps slowed. He was nearing her now, and she stood before his onslaught. He had come here, not knowing she was here. Not knowing they'd have to fight for the sake of some petulant alliance. She felt ill. The blast door before her was now the last defense between the pair encountering one another, though she could hear and sense the slaughter on the other side.​

​

He probably sensed her here as well.​

​

He had no idea why she was here, did he?​

​

Sensing him ahead, she remained standing, her saber at the ready, though not ignited. The Sith could go to hell for all she cared for, but given she was being observed, to not follow through would put the Empire at risk. Put Nyxie at risk. If she was exposed as a traitor, slandered for failing in her duties, the consequences could be dire.​

​

Damn the Sith for putting here in this situation. She swallowed, standing five meters away from the blast door, waiting as she could feel Amadeus approach, and feeling her heart sink as the door began to his open.​

​

She had thought about him several times since Ilum, at times, it comforted her knowing someone else was like her and out there fighting for their identity. It reminded her that she wasn't alone. That perhaps someone understood her.​

​

Now, she was standing opposite of this very person, fighting for an organization that had done them hideous wrongs.​

​

There was no good way for this to turn out. She turned her head to the side, spotting a security camera angled her direction, a reminder that she was being watched.​

​

All about her, signs of battle blared, as it seemed the enemy had found them and was intended reducing this place to rubble.​

​

She shoudn't have come here. She should have stood up for herself.​

​

As Amadeus stepped through the door, Lilanna looked to him, sorrow held captive in her one visible eye. "You weren't supposed to be here."​

​

It was an excuse, something she was trying to tell herself; that the Sith didn't still control her life, but they did. Her she was, still allowing them to chain her, and turn against her ally.​

​

All for their own benefit.​

​

Her yellow blade ignited, though she couldn't bare to raise it towards him. Why in all the hell did he have to come here of all places?​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Red clashed against green, a kaleidoscopic spectacle that showered the amphitheater in dazzling light. Emotionless and without pause, Carnifex effortlessly countered Elle's strikes and retaliated with his own. Conscious thought was not required for this duel, the Dark Lord's every move a product of rapidly firing synapses working solely off of his hyper-reflexive instinct. Beyond that, the Dark Side of the Force gave unnatural speed to his movements, his weapon lashing out faster than even mechanically-assisted eyes could comprehend.​

​

But that was the power of the Force, and Elle dutifully kept pace with him.​

​

He was not concerned with this Jedi Knight, nor was he concerned with the Light that seemed to well upon on the margins of her eyes. The Light could not reach him, not as he dwelled in the benthic enormity of the Dark. Like the deepest abysses of the ocean, Light could not pierce the murky gloom which hid the most ferocious of monsters. And if there were ever a great multitude of beasts lurking deep below the waves, then he was undoubtedly the king of all beasts.​

​

Simultaneously, Carnifex only wielded his weapon with one hand; his right hand specifically. That was his dominant hand, though he could easily wield his weapon in his left, and thus allowed him greater strength, dexterity, and skill when grasping his preferred instrument of violence. His left did not contribute to this fight, not at the moment anyway. It was held behind his back, fingers curled into a fist, as the rest of his body swayed and danced to the rhythm of their duel.​

​

For an individual as large as Carnifex, he was expertly nimble in his footwork. It had taken more than half a lifetime to overcome that biological handicap, training himself rigorously for days on end to bypass the limitations of his corporeal form and break those chains that bound him to the stereotype of a slow thuggish brute. Oh, he was not above playing up that stereotype to lure his opponent into underestimating his capabilities, but he found that Elle was sharp enough to see through such a ruse had he employed it.​

​

Besides, Carnifex didn't want to hold back as much as he had on Csilla, not when the decrepit aura of Ziost seeped into his lungs with each breath; every particle saturated with the Dark Side. He stepped forward and sharply lunged into a deep thrust, skewering the air where Elle had been a moment before, his blade slashing to intercept her response aimed at his throat. ​

​

"In time," he breathed huskily, not out of exhaustion but of the thrill of the battle and the brief euphoria it brought him, "You will learn, my young Jedi."​

​

As the fight progressed, a small electronic device slipped into Carnifex's left hand from somewhere within the sleeve of his robe. It was a simple enough device, cylindrical with a single momentary switch in the form of a depressable button at its end. With his thumb pushed against that button, he squeezed it down as far as it would go.​

​

Elsewhere in the galaxy, in a hidden lightless dungeon, electricity was run through the restraints keeping Sylvia Virtos locked away. There was enough voltage unleashed at that moment to kill any ordinary being, though the constitution of a Jedi allowed them to withstand a greater degree of electrical energy. It would be sufficiently painful regardless, perhaps enough to force the body into shock as a coping mechanism. Regardless, Carnifex held the button down for several seconds before removing his thumb, the electrical current stopping immediately as he did.​

​

"That there is nothing you have that I cannot take away."​

​

Elle Mors ​

 

[Kolson Vrask]

G R U N G E
IMPERIAL MILITARY ASSISTANCE GROUP
EMBEDDED WITH | 1st BATTALION 506th INFANTRY REGIMENT
JUDGEMENT DAY
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
Defiant Pattern APCU (Ashla Armed Forces) | SRK-65 Service Rifle | DSP-61x Hybrid Pistol | Cradle | Grenades

SNIPER
ZIOST '65​

He was able to hear her voice above the violent carnage and chaos. Her beckon to cover her. Part of him wanted to grind his teeth at her insubordination. But in his gut, he felt better with her backing him up. After all...they were alone, out here. Certainly, there were other New Imperials deployed to New Adasta, but among these troopers, they were well and truly...alone. Certainly, these Ashlan soldiers were trained, their intent could certainly be trusted...but they were different, unavoidably so.

Sephi and Kolson had been smoked by the same drill instructors, seen the same grueling training and now, were side by side in the carnage. It was a level of trust that was incomparable to anything else. Immediately after he kicked the door and Grunge's squad began to enter the building, Kolson himself eating a burst of three blaster bolts in his chestplate as they moved to secure the points of domination of the bottom level before proceeding with violence to the other rooms.

They went through the trained and tempered procedures as Grunge stayed back to assess, only to hear that horrid slam of a heavy sniper round with an echoing crack that snapped at the air.

<"Sni-"><"-get down-"> the rest of the warning was squeezed out of

<"Nova's hit!">

<"Enemy sniper; foxtrot-two-oh!">

He immediately bolted for the doorway he'd just cleared the room from before making his way back out. Nova was hit and downed. She was not in a good state. The next few minutes were vital and Grunge immediately took command.

<"Medic! Here! Now!"> He barked out, motioning a flat hand to the nearest medic, visible from the red armband and marking on his helmet. He rushed to Nova's side, immediately moving to inject bacta into her before him and another trooper began to pull her back into a bombed out building being held by another section of Ashlan troopers.

She was seemingly handled but the event threatened to rattle Grunge's composure. His anchor of stability and security in this hellscape here, shattered. If they couldn't stabilize her...he'd be well and truly alone among the rebar graves and duracrete tombs of his long fallen comrades in New Adasta. He'd be just another.

But no- they were the difference.

He took up a BKM-62 from slain arms of an Ashlan trooper. A battle rifle. A model which had been outdated by the New Imperial Armed Forces and thus- perfect to be distributed to their allies. There was nothing inherently at fault with the design, it merely failed to meet the needs of the Stormtrooper Corps.

But to Grunge, this was the weapon he was all but raised on in his time as Storm Commando and thus, he took ahold of it, firing a burst in the direction of the designated building holding the sniper.

He charged toward it before diving forward and down into the blast crater left by an errant artillery round.

He slowly crawled to the edge of the crater. He could feel the adrenaline pulsing through his system, his heart rate accelerating for the hunt.

In this, he moved to throw the helmet from his head, pulling in what was the closest he could get to 'fresh' air in New Adasta.

He trained his sights on the upper levels of the building again before he heard the violent crack of the rifle and round thud into the urban earth but inches from his right elbow.

"Sh*t..." He muttered to himself before firing a single shot in return, the particle beam bursting against the metallic surface of the building. In return, the sniper fired again, the shot landing into his right shoulder, sending him back down the crater as he ground his teeth in response to the punishing round hammering into his armor.

But that wasn't enough to take him out for good.

He was able to pin the location of the scope's reflection and muzzle flash in his mind. He just had to execute. He clutched the rifle tightly in his hands once more before crawling to the edge of the crater again before aiming down the scope of his rifle. He eased his breathing, slow, smooth inhales and exhales. Deep breathes.

"Should've aimed for the head-" He said before breathing in and squeezing the trigger, firing out his own punishing round in return.

And that was all there was from the sniper.

ALLIES | AC | NIO | Sephi Karneh | DECEASED Erskine Barran | Julian Qar | Dagon Kaze
ENEMIES | TSE | OPEN FOR SMOKE | N Nyxeris | Laertia Io

 

[Pietro Demici]

Pietro Demici: Ashlan Cardinal, Commander of the Holy Guard

Location: New Adasta

Loadout: lightsaber, armorweave priest's vestments

Allies: Cedric Grayson , DECEASED Erskine Barran , Geiseric , Dagon Kaze , Ishida Ashina , Julian Qar , Noel Strasza , Kolson Vrask , Sephi Karneh , Zark San Tekka , Mrurh'en'lase | Hel

Enemies: SF-3335 , Eva Betrik , The Battalion , Ingrid L'lerim , Laertia Io , N Nyxeris , Ulrich

Crusaders

The Holy Guard and the soldiers with them had begun pressing forward, pushing their way forward to the Sith lines. The ruins of New Adasta would prove to be a treacherous terrain to cross; the previous battles fought had left many shadowy corners for potential threats to hide in. Pietro knew that they would have to be mindful at every turn if they were to truly uproot the Sith from the planet.

The cardinal turned to Geiseric as they approached the borders of the city.

"Take your troops along our right flank. I'll take the rest and sweep left. If we time it correctly, we can catch any would be defenders in a pincer movement. If you run into the Eternal Empire, well... Lord Grayson has contacted the Empress, and is working to get them out of the fight. Should you come across them, you are not to attack unless fired upon. We will not be responsible for a breakdown of negotiations."

Pietro had no love for the Eternal Empire. His spies had told him of individuals tainted by the Bogan that operated under their banner; a fact that made his stomach turn. He couldn't imagine sparing any of them, regardless of their apparent neutrality. Despite these reservations, Pietro had faith that Cedric was doing what was best for the Crusade, and therefore Pietro would trust in his judgment.

As he began to order his troops to move alter their path, Pietro felt something within the Force. With a quick flick of the wrist, Pietro deflected a blaster bolt right as it was about to strike one of his Holy Guard.

"Snipers. We'll hold them hear, Geiseric, get your men into position! Do not stop the advance. We must push forward. We will see you in the center. Fear not the darkness, brother, for Ashla is with us!"

With those words, Pietro charged toward the ruined streets of New Adasta, with the Holy Guard close behind. As they pushed forward, Pietro continued to deflect several more bolts, searching for the source of the incoming enemy fire. The Holy Guard laid down covering fire until they made it beyond the first layer of ruins, taking cover in what was left of a nearby building. Pietro motioned for his Guard to take positions throughout the ruins, placing them at key points on both the first and second floors.

They would clear the entire city building by building if need be, but one way or another, the city would be liberated.

 

[Ulrich]

Objective : 1 Judgement Day

Equipment : Plattenpanzer , Kriegertod

Opponent : Mrurh'en'lase | Hel

I declare my challenge, let the violet hued primate scoop up the lightsaber of her fallen colleague. Then she comes at me, all muscle and sinew. There is a beauty to her movements. A trait shared among humanoids that we larger species appreciate. Compared to the vast corpulence of a Hutt the lithe motions of a mammal body must appear delicate as the finest ballerina in the troupes of Coruscant. That must be why the abhorrent gastropods are known to take human and twi'lek woman captive. There is more of the feline in my kind , not such a great disparity in acrobatic prowess but still witnessing such verve serves to explain why hominid legends tell of my kind kidnapping the most graceful of feminine specimens.

Of course I make no claim to being a great athlete. Fate among her many curses has decided to bless me with physical potency enough to prey upon rancor but I am never to be a duelist true. No doubt there would be others among my kind in days past whose claws could eviscerate with precision equal to that of the soaring raptor , whose tails were limber and prehensile enough to skewer as a heron might. But I am not these specimens. My mind is sharp and keen with my predilections that of the academic but my body is a brute force instrument. A demolition machine that may only plow forth heedless of the destruction wrought by my passage.

So it is that when this Penthesilea advances on me I continue moving forward, the momentum of my sheer mass dragging me inexorably towards my destination. She darts to the side and even as the darkside screams in my mind that this is but a feint my body acts out, sending the Kriegertodd out to smash down and through the concrete in the place whereupon she had been standing but half a second before. A bad move and were I a regular Sith a fatal one.

Her lightsaber licks out for me. A miniature sun concentrated into the form of a blade. My armor is not designed to resist such weapons. The ancestral enemies of my kind, the Mandalorians are not wont to avail themselves of such armaments save for the infamous dark saber. So the blade cuts through the metal of my plate, vaporizing the interior gel coating and then painfully biting through scale to the more tender flesh beneath. To another this would be a killing blow. Certain disembowelment , but the blade lacks the length for such. Nature or mayhap the ancient gods knew that my primeval grandsires would contest amongst themselves for the affections of maidens. To prevent the end of a species at its own claws, thick layers of fat and muscle were grown beneath the skin to save vital organs from such damage.

What I am left with is painful to be sure. A scar that will trail across my gut already cauterized by the sheer heat of the blade. Something for either the bacta tanks or the restorative powers of sorcery to deal with later on, but far from debilitating with the adrenaline flowing in my veins. Of course if such a blow had struck my neck or face this might be another story. One can have no delusions of immortality when faced with the captivity and genocide of one's entire species. So hand still fixed on the hilt of the Kriegertod I used the concrete embedded weapon as a fulcrum to pull myself across the ground clockwise to the right of the indigo Jedi till I have my face turned towards her direction. As I do I quietly mouth the words to a spell, one of the most common and iconic pieces of magic favored for its unerring reliability.

The spell finished I let loose a gushing torrent of flame from my jaws towards the young jedi. Basiliskans lack the natural ability to breathe fire unlike our more numerous cousins the Duinuogwuin, but a little sorcery is all that is required to remedy this deficiency. Even as the flames pour from my mouth I call out to the ignited revenants that I previously raised to come and join our battle. Should my opponent manage to elude the breath weapon she will have the vengeful dead to worry about.

 

[Sephi Karneh]

N O V A
IMPERIAL MILITARY ASSISTANCE GROUP;
ASSIGNED TO | 1st BATTALION 506th INFANTRY REGIMENT, ASHLAN CRUSADE
NEW IMPERIAL "DOGS"
ARMOR PRIMARY MAGCANNON GRENADES MELEE

S U R V I V E
NEW ADASTA
JUDGMENT DAY​

The mirialan lay on the ground, gasping audibly as shock shook her systems, mind unable to process the speed that it seemed everything had gone wrong at. Out of reflex, she attempted to sit upright, only to be shoved right back down by the Crusader who crawled over her, bracing his hands against her armored shoulders to keep her from doing as she mechanically would have. "Don't move too much," the man urged, shaking his helmeted head. She stared at him, brows pinching together failing to understand the severity of the situation. She was fine, wasn't she? Turning her head down, the bulk of her armored chest kept her wound from her sight, though it did very little to obscure the rapidly growing pool of crimson eating away at the dirt by her right side, spewing into the cracked duracrete and stone to serve as the mortar that would pave the path for those to come.

Her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out the crashing armies, smothering the weak, rasping breaths that clawed their way from her throat to parch her lips. Her emerald eyes turned back to the shadow of the hissing cannon poised over her, and despite what the soldier had instructed her to do, she struck out with her heel, relieving the forward leg of the tripod from its burden, and sending the weapon down upon its hydraulics. Out of sight; it was an asset they could not afford to lose.​

<"Medic! Here! Now!">

Sephi blinked rapidly, struggling to find the source of his voice. It felt far as if he had called from down a lengthy corridor, the sound was faint. And then, he was there, fist curled around an injector. He slammed it into her ribs, releasing the trigger to flood her veins with the miraculous meds. His intentions were good, but good intentions did not prevent pain. Losing her composure for a moment, Nova yowled in pain, snapping a bloody hand up to grab his upper arm, squeezing it tightly to anchor herself to this reality, rather than the one the threat of unconsciousness attempted to drag her off to. She held onto him by his arm, while he dug beneath hers to find purchase. The medic who had rushed to aid grasped her other side, the wounded one, and together the two dragged her through the dust and debris to a temporary shelter.

Once inside, the Crusader medic took over, unstrapping and pulling her helmet from her head. Dirt and blood alike clung to her green skin, pasted there by the sweat bubbling up from beneath the surface and trailing down her temples. "Nova, breathe, you gotta breathe." The unfamiliar man stated, grasping her face between his hands to pull her focus from Grunge, who she hadn't even registered she had been staring at the entire endeavor.

He was the only sense of stability she knew. The only familiar, friendly face, in a sea of endless grey Imperial motifs and uniforms. Nothing changed that, especially here.

Now, she stared at the very definition of unfamiliarity, glassy, bloodshot eyes fixed on the visor of the medic commanding her attention. "Can you hear me?" He asked of her, shaking her faintly.

"Th-the cannon..." she rasped finally, gulping air into her screaming lungs, "d-don't let them take it, or we're all ff-fucked."

Kolson took off, unable to sit still any longer. He never was the type to sit when things got tense, it was a quality she admired in him. There was nothing he could do here, for her, but there was something he could do for himself. She understood it. Understood him.

"Sit tight, don't move around too much. I need to check you out."

All she could muster in response was a weak nod of her head as it was planted back gently to the floor of the structure. And then, more pain came. "Help me get her on her side, I need to find the exit wound." Another Crusader knelt by, taking up her shoulder and drawing it toward him, turning her over to expose the mangled wound spewing her rubies all over the floor. "Got the entry there, just under her ribs-"

She could barely hear him.

"Oh sh*t..."

"What?"

"There's no exit wound."

"And what's that mean exactly?" The man whose boots she stared at asked, glancing down at her profile briefly.

"It means," the combat medic started as he produced a pair of gloves from the bag on his hip, "we've got to go fishing."

That was enough for her adrenaline-addled brain to pick up on. Nova lifted her head, twisting it about to look over her shoulder at the medic, then. "Then g-give me somethin' to bite... let's get this s-hit over with..." her voice left her as a strained growl. ​

ALLIES | NIO | AC | Kolson Vrask Zark San Tekka DECEASED Erskine Barran Ishida Ashina
ENEMIES | TSE | N Nyxeris Laertia Io | OPEN FOR DIRECT ENGAGEMENT