Let Slip the Dogs of War [Protectorate Invasion of Druckenwell]

[Kal Strife]

Xenophon
[member="Jorus Merrill"] [member="Friedrich Stahlmann"] [member="Marek Starchaser"] [member="Anesia Jy'Vun"]

The Emperor's Shield was a well designed ship, as much a beauty as a behemoth in the eyes of any student of ship design. And the fleet that followed in its wake was no mere collection of toys. Yet the Confederates were not the enemies that many people designed their weapons of war to face, and they had tricks innumerably ready to confound their foes. While laserfire seared through the squadrons, craft jinked and twisted within inhuman reactions, driven by droid brains or guided by the icy caress of battle meditation. Many died regardless, but those that lived launched missile after missile, both mundane and not, and soon buzz droids converged upon the hull of the mighty craft, their inorganic hunger driving them toward the exposed systems that were, by necessity, placed near the surface of the hull.

Across the battlefield, the Scions continuined their assault against the dropships whilst the Protectorate forces moved into position, slaying dozens more, before abruptly breaking away on pseudo-random vectors, their cloaks engaging with a ripple of twisted light as they vanished into the darkness once more.

Across the battlefield, the Butcher reached out his touch to other minds as well, brushing against the thoughts of Anesia, Marek, and countless other Confederates. The words his touch left in their work were simple enough; Amidala - Three - Keresh. He knew that each of them would know what to do in response to that command, and left them to their preparations, his awareness moving on, focusing on the shipyards, on the weapons contained within. He too knew what he had to do.

Slowly, surely, he began to gather his strength.

 

[EmKay]

= Commander Leonard Briggs =
Planetary Defence

Briggs glared at the screens and shook his head. To say that defeat was not yet reached, was a lie -- the Fleet Admiral's broadcast only proved him right -- but the Commander would be damned if he let that stop his boys from fighting.

"Alrigh' lads, looks like we've lost Druckenwell. You know what that means?" he asked openly. A few confused noises came from around him, and the silence from the other side wasn't promising. He grinned, though.

"Scorched earth." he said with a note of finality.

"Ya there!" he called out to the Comms officer behind him, "Get ANY'NE in th'sky don 'ere t'evac ar 'eavy-'itters an' wha' soldiers we go' left. Feck em droids, I wan' our men." he ordered. A distress signal was near immediately sent to the Confederate Fleet for emergency evacuation, then he turned back to the console.

"For thos'ya who dunno wha' Scorched Earth is, I'll turn it int'a simple order: Fire on th'Shipyerd's repulsors. Bring it down." he growled. Everyone around him wore shocked expressions, but they were orders, and orders to follow. The anti-air cannons redirected focus from the Protectorate ships and began blowing out the very engines that kept the Druckenwell Shipyard floating in orbit. With the first downed repulsor, the structure shook and began to crack and groan from the misaligned weight.

"Righ'. Any'ne no mannin' a gun, stay alive. I don' wan' unnecess'ry death, an' you'll live ta' figh' anoth'r day." he called over the intercom, and watched the readouts as another of the many repulsors was blasted into oblivion. This may have been his world to protect, but he failed. He may have failed, but he'd be damned if he let the enemy get the most valuable aspect of the planet.

= Obsidian Cadet Atretes Rhoujen =
Druckenwell Surface

The voice echoed his his mind and he grimaced, then his comm caught Commander Briggs' orders and he couldn't help but grin to himself. From his vantage point, he watched the battle. He'd fought his way up this building, and watched the last few minutes of goings-on in silent contemplation. Something felt wrong since then, and now he knew why. His senses flared.

He spun around, and in a sweep deflecteda blaster bolt and decapitated a Protectorate soldier in one movement. That's when the light caught his sword just right. The blood dripped into just the right grove. The insignia of Clan Verd, blazing with the reflected light of a fallen Confederate world. His eyes narrowed, and he felt the rage within him tap into Sigma's fury only slightly. Fires crept up his fingers and sunk into the metal. He shook his head, but the lingering black-blue-and-violet inferno was planted. He let out a grunt of disgust and threw the sword, aided by telekinesis, into the air before him. A stray anti-air shot caught it, but its alchemised composition made it resist the fire and launch skyward with the bolt, spinning wildly. Atretes grasped the yellow-bladed lightsaber that his master let him borrow and flicked it on, then moved out to safer ground to await evacuation.

= The Blade Drachlann =
Somewhere in Space
The sword was rattled between laser fire, starships, starfighters, waves of engine energy, and the vacuum of space. It tumbled through the void, gaining scratches but little more along the way, and finally found a resting place in the main viewscreen of the bridge of the Protectorate capital ship. Right in front of [member="Ayden Cater"]. If he chose to inspect the blade, which did little more than make the window less pretty and had no way to threaten the crew, the blazing sunlight of the system would reflect that very insignia of Clan Verd into his eyes.

 

[Eldoc Quasat]

Location: In the Fog at the entrance of the Obsidian Garrison
Objective: Defend the Garrison
Enemies: [member="Jared Ovmar"] [member="Tobias Cross"] [member="Soliael Devin Talith"]

Eldoc felt something The haunting visions, he had so long avoided. The visions of dark creatures hunting him on the sands of korriban. The were all around him. Damn it all! Eldoc put his hands to his head and tired to send them out before he lost touch with reality but it had happened, he now saw them in the fog, mocking him. They approached him. Eldoc glared out and yelled towards the visions. "You won't get me this time!" That was when he let it all out. Eldoc filled the air with a Force Scream. Taught by Velok himself to do one at will, Eldoc wailed with the force sending both a mental and physical assault on anyone near by. Letting the core of him out into the world. His scream unending as he tried to drive away the dark visions in the fog and the others. They had haunted him ever since being left alone on korriban and with that mind blast they were now loose on him again. The scream not only would hurt everyone's ears physically but it was an attack of the force too, assaulting their minds. His scream terrible and full of anger. He was no simple knight, no, but a high night and by all rights should be a damn master and yet still the visions haunted him. He let it all out, screaming letting the galaxy hear him. The force scream produced here was most likely the most powerful one he had ever sent out, fueled by his emotions due to whatever that mind blast did to him. He no longer was the cool collected Eldoc but now was in full survival mode. His mind was stuck somewhere between reality and his time alone on korriban.

Then the damn wall hit him. It hit him hard, knocking out Eldoc in a single hit. The only reason he lived was thanks to his training from Velok. The wall had hit the insane eldoc suddenly, his robes and armor and his sheer will to live and beat the damn visons haunting him was what caused him to not vaporize like the wall seemed to do. No Eldoc was out, His flesh crisp and his saber still held in his hand. He laid on the ground out cold, his mind still haunted by the visions that Ovmar seemed to have knocked loose on him.

 

[Revenchent]

There was little for Calico to think about now. The lovely warmth of unconciousness held him tight in its protective grasp. Protected against the situation happening around him, protected from making anymore hard decisions, protected from the consequences of what had happened just moments earlier. The Protectorate may have won the battle, they may have lost. Calico had no way of knowing, and he honestly wasn't sure he cared.

These thought would, of course, be forgotten as soon as he awoke. Most dreams worked that way. Still, it was lovely to pass the time, and lovelier still to look back on the past. Had he done so much wrong to end up where he was now? What was the final act that threw the galaxy so far out of balance for it to punish Calico with this? Why hadn't Galaar just put down the weapons and led his men home?

The thoughts all plagued him, but the answers never came. Hopefully, the Dreadguard would keep him safe for the moment. If not, and he was to die here and now, then so be it. The General did not stir, and likely wouldn't until he was back in the Protectorate's hands. Perhaps he wouldn't return at all.

Why had he survived and not Galaar?

That question would never have an answer, and he knew it. Still, it didn't hurt to run it through his mind over and over again. He needed to know the consequences of his actions; just how alone he truly was for any of this to matter. At least, that was what he thought now. As soon as he awoke, none of these thoughts or mental decisions would hold any weight. They would not matter, just as he and his brother's time in this galaxy had, in the very end, not mattered other than to torture them.

Not at all....

 

[Alli Vern]

[member="Atretes Rhoujen"]
"I hear by order you to cease firing upon the shipyards, as of now all shipyards over DruckenWell belong to Baktoid Industrial Systems and thus are not vaild targets for you and your crazy men. I am here by requesting [member="Salem Norongachi"] and [member="Sophia Walsh"]and[member="Kal Strife"] and others forward this at once."

 

[EmKay]

"Well y'see miss, m'orders come fa' th'C.I.S. milit'ry. No' coporate. S'ntil I get c'nf'rmation o' this from som'on o' my chain o'comman', m'men're to keep firing." Briggs replied over the channel.

[member="Alli Wren"]

 

[Atlas Kane]

Location: Atrium
Objective: Get the Hell outta thar
Allies: Peopels
Enemies: Other Peopels

With the general retreat order given, Hayato knew something had gone wrong. He didn't know what, but that didn't matter right now. He'd have to find a way off the station, and quickly, but there were about 33 armed men pointing guns at him and he didn't have enough time to check if his ship was still there or if Civilians had used it to escape. To him, the only logical option was to surrender himself to the armored men. He unbound his sword from his belt made of a simple thick clothbinding and offered it to the man in front of him, as well as his Lightsaber. ''Here, take this. I surrender myself to you.'' With that said, he would wait out any fate that would await him now.

[member="Calico Tal'Verda"] ​[member="November Sinclair"] ​@Anyone in the Atrium

 

[HK-36]

LOCATION: Aboard the Siege Tower
OBJECTIVE: Provide Tactical Orbital Bombardment Support
ALLIES: Brawlers [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"] and [member="Eyrecae Alzari"]
ENEMIES: Confederate Hypervelocity Cannon and Anti-Aircraft Emplacements ([member="Atretes Rhoujen"]), Heavy Artillery Emplacement and Flanking Tank Column ([member="Darth Kentarch"]) as requested by Eyrecae

Abregado-Rae Support Fleet

Spoiler

The Dancing Queen- Supercarrier Star Destroyer
The Siege Tower- Nebulon B7 Frigate
Beep and Boop- 2x Protectorate Blockade Runners
Frank and Cuddlyantisocial- 2x Myriad-Class Corvettes
The Knight of Eclipse- Dark Desire Prize Vessel

Eyrecae wondered who was in charge of the Protectorate troops. Presumably the Exarch Metal Demon. She wasn’t much interested in the details as she was by action. “Sio! Metal Demon! Tanks moving in on the flanks, infantry ahead. Call down some firepower to deal with the vehicles, I’ll take the infantry defences!”

"Roger that, targeting enemy positions based on your coordinates, keep spotting for me."
HK responded, watching over the battlefield from his ship, the sensors and targeting modules of the gunships he has sent into the High Orbit of the planet working tirelessly to keep locating targets,
"Sir, targets acquired, we are receiving notifications about enemy heavy artillery positions."

The droid turned slightly to his Yeoman who brought it to his attention,
"Send in the Knight of the Eclipse on it, we do not have time to wait for gunships to acquire their targets again."
Yeoman nodded, relaying his orders, HK looked back to the holo-map, sending out another order to his gunships

Fire

The High Orbit Kinetic Bombardment systems proved efficient in just one shot so far, it was time to check their efficiency once more. On a grander scale.

It seemed very much so that the Confederacy was more interested in Scorched Earth policy and attacking the Emperor's Shield rather than maintain the air superiority of their own planet, it was something that brought consequences they will have to deal with, such as the presence of multiple Inimica gunships with the HOKB-1 systems, for now that the Shipyard fell to Protectorate another layer of defense was taken from Confederacy.

Briggs would suddenly find his job much more difficult to do.
Ground shook as with an earthquake and somewhere in the distance a pillar of dust rose, how soon he would receive news that another Hyper-Velocity cannon has collapsed it's unknown, but it was not the first one, nor it would be the last. The gunships kept sending their payloads from the High-Orbit to the targets they took so long to acquire, two metal spikes was all they needed to take a Hyper-Velocity cannon out of the action, and each carried 12 of those spikes, giving them 6 viable hits a head.

Cannon after cannon they begun to fell to the Orbital Bombardment called in by the droid, how many Hyper-Velocity Canons the Confederacy had is unknown, but they would have either none after this operation or just a couple. The Kinetic Bombardment weapons wrecked their structure, piercing their foundations and unleashing kinetic energy that shook the soil and pushed deep craters, high initial velocity and addition through acceleration tended to do that.

Smaller anti-air emplacements were hit as well, debris thrown aside like shrapnel, cracking and splintering in the strikes, ammunition exploding from the impact, but that is just the sort of thing that happens when one leaves a war droid to his own devices.

Somewhere in high orbit a stealth ship has uncloaked itself as its HOKB-1 fired, two metal rods propelled onto the surface of the planet, this specific ship had the pleasure of messing with Kentarch's schemes as cloaked it could hang in the air to acquire its target while other gunships fired. The bombardment this one sent was upon Kentarch's artillery position, it was a job the HOKB-1 was initially designed for, actually, after the trouble Mandalorians faced from Sith artillery on Dromund Kaas. Either way, two deep craters would erupt on the positions of his heavy artillery as the two-meter spikes met their target at hyper-velocity, vehicles cracking and shattering, exploding as they were tossed aside by the energy or stuck deep in the crater that formed.

The stealth ship reloaded, cloaking itself once more in the high-orbit, beginning to acquire its target on his tank column as well, so that they may share similar fate.

So, once more, to bring down the buildings it took HK telling them to begin acquiring targets eight hours Real-Life time ago, making this an action over multiple posts, and for tanks and artillery Eyrecae calling in support from HK's orbital guns, also multiple posts and no buildings were taken down in this action.

 

[Kyrana Gould]

SPACE TIME
Objective: Defeat the Cursed Cannibal Confederates!
Noble Allies: Knight | Ayden Cater | Jorus Merrill | Hecate
Foul Enemy: Kal Strife

Admiral Stahlmann had encountered many surprises in his long life. Some were just being revealed now, at this point. Some were especially surprising as they seemed counter-intuitively impractical.
For one, the fact the Scions were continuing to attack dropships which by rights should have already landed, and even if not, were well escorted with Protectorate fighters. The casualties sustained by the Protectorate were likely roughly proportional to those of the Confederates, especially as their speed and agility was much less favourable than the escorting Protectorate attack craft.
Next the attack by the fighters had seemingly committed a vast amount of the Confederate attack craft on a single target. This was unwise were the attack to fail. The swarm droid fighters the Confederates used were mass produced, able to perform organic breaking movements, but less able to adapt, whilst the piloted Confederate ships were guided by Battle Meditation, but generally seemed less well armed than Protectorate ships. The battle would be even, and bloody.
To deal with the swarming buzz droids Stahlmann had a novel idea. He powered down his ion cannons to the lowest possible setting and fired on the Emperor's Shield. This would not effect the massive ship's shields or systems at such low power, but it would help fry the buzz droids on the hull of the ship.

With this accomplished Stahlmann sent in 50% of his fighters into the attack to help crush the enemy fighters.

 

[Hira Mitsae]

Click.

It was a sound which carried itself through the whole cantina, echoing in it’s clicking holiness. In its wake men were left breathless, some fell to their knees and others gasped in shock. A soft yelp came from the man sitting across Hoath, he knew it was his turn and on his face was painted the doubt and horror. The Caveman on the other hand was grinning like a madman, his eyes alight with a fury of a thousand burning worlds and in ‘em was no pity.

“Remember what I said about that bullet, Rye?”

Them words were whispered, romantic whispers destined for an unfaithful lover. Rye tried to fight his destiny, try to escape the hole he dug himself, but in the end it was a fight hopeless.

Serock stood up from his chair, suppressing a groan, as his knees had to carry his weight again. Two steps and he stood by Rye’s side, revolver in his hand. “Take it.” he told him, knowing that Rye was too much a puss in a boot to accept his own destiny.

Our anti-hero did the only thing a man in his position could do. Honor was at stake, and Serock had to save Rye from himself. This was as clear as day to every man present in the bar. Again the revolved was aimed at a temple, but this time the targeted man could not help but whimper and plead.

“You disgust me.” our fearless leader said, before spitting and pulling the trigger.

click.

“Seems you are in luck, Archibald.”

Right around that time a couple of things happened at once. One, Rye Archibald fainted and pissed himself. Two, a squad of army personnel entered the cantina and three, the cantina emptied out faster than Church after the session.

Hoath took another bottle and a swig, waiting for one of the men to tell ‘im what the feck is happening. Which happened sooner rather than later, it seemed an invasion was going on and help was needed.

The Grand Marshal, Serock Hoath started laughing his ass off and finally walked out to get a transport to the battlefield. I would describe the situation and actions more thoroughly, but I ain’t got a lot of paper here to write on. My apologies.

***​

It took a long while before Serock Hoath arrived on the field of battle. The ceasefire had ended long before, and the men of the Confederacy were losing ground fast. A grim prospect, and Hoath was taken aback by the amount of losses they had sustained.

Somehow he found himself standing next to Briggs, a few moments after that man gave the orders to punch out the Orbital Shipyards. Which in truth was a good idea, but the man lacked perspective. Or at least, that’s what our Caveman clearly thought with that scowl chiseled on his face.

“Delay that order.”

Back straight, feet firmly planted on the floor Hoath projected a calm and self-assured aura. Men and women alike saluted him, when they witnessed his arrival. Some seemed to be at ease by his mere presence, others were muttering behind their breaths. Wondering where he had been this entire time.

“Hail the Lord Protector or whoever is in charge, and if that ain’t possible then sent 'em a message.”

Before setting out to speak, he took another swig from his ever-present flask. Which seemed to have an endless supply of alcohol, curious thing. Hoath didn’t have a speech prepared, but the commander had the right of it.

This war wouldn’t be won by playing nice, and giving out freebies. The OP had come to this world and tried to take it by force, well.. they would find out why he was called the Caveman.

“Lord Protector Cater or whoever is in charge, my apologies for this late welcome. I was.. otherwise occupied. I see you have made yourself comfortable in lands which aren’t your own. I commend you on fabricating a casus belli based on the vague-maybe existence of a possible Sith Lord in our midst, and then act like an intergalactic peacekeep agency. Truly.. inspiring, I wouldn’t have been able to come up with a better lie myself. You put yourself on the moral high ground.. let’s see how far you are willing to go to keep it. My fleet is currently positioned to take out the shipyards which orbit the planet. Retreat from my lands and I won’t rain fire upon the remaining innocent population and your own troops. Stay? and I won’t be able to stop my slipping hand. You have thirty minutes to retreat, give me reason to believe you are trying to stop me and I will scorch the planet ahead of schedule. Hoath out.”

And now.. the waiting begins.

[member="HK-36"] [member="Atretes Rhoujen"] [member="Kal Strife"] [member="Ayden Cater"] [member="Jorus Merrill"]

 

[Eyrecae Alzari]

Location: Capital City
Objective: Capture the City
Allies: [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"] | [member="HK-36"] | OP Peoples
Enemies: [member="Darth Kentarch"] | [member="Morna Imura"] | [member="Tricia"] | [member="Ermac Laith"]

As the bombardment came down the Confederate troops left their entrenchments and counter charged the Protectorate troops. Bolters and blasters blazed at each other, and amidst the ruins the two armies met in an apocalyptic showdown.

Eyrecae leapt into the air and smashed an organic Confederate soldier, then cut down two droids. She was just about to press on when she saw an enemy raising a gun...and then.

BANG

The blast, unlike anything she'd felt before, hit her dead on in the chest. Knocked back, Eyrecae hit the ground, letting out a mechanical howl of pain. Agony...her armour had deflected much of the impact, but it was still formidable and painful.
Getting to her feet she pointed her hammer at her enemy. "You! I'm gonna smash you!" she shouted. Stumbling forward she dived into cover to avoid the next shots. She needed time to regenerate, but then she'd be ready.

To spice things up she pulled a grenade from her belt and hurled it right at her enemy with the sonic gun, aiming to give him something to remember her by before she closed in for hammer time!

 

[B1-883331]

Location: Capital City (City Outskirts)
Objective: Capture the City
Allies: The CIS
Enemies: The Protectorate


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LtP5lSQgll8



A massive engagement raged on violently at the outskirts of the Capital between a portion of the Count's droid army and Protectorate Forces. Seemingly limitless swarms of B1 Battle Droids pressed an offensive against enemy landing zones nearby, led by a OOM-series Battle Droid Commander designated B1-883331 from the safety of his large AAT tank. The Protectorate forces they were facing were being easily cut down in swathes due to a lack of cover on the open plains by the numerically superior droid force. ''Keep pushing! We've got these Protectorate dogs right where we want 'em!'', the Commander unit yelled with confidence. Several droids surrounding his tank responded with their iconic response. ''Roger roger!''

 

[Jorus Merrill]

Location: With OP Fleet
Allies: [member="Knight"] @Freidrich Stahlmann [member="Ayden Cater"] etc.
Enemies: [member="Kal Strife"] [member="Atretes Rhoujen"] [member="Serock Hoath"]

The buzz droids took the brunt of Stahlmann's low-powered ion barrage and then, and only then, slammed into planetary-grade shielding. This was not conducive to their health. Buzz droids were wonderful against unshielded or ray-shielded targets, but not shields designed to resist everything from proton torpedos to meteorites to DOKAWs. There were no shortcuts around that sort of thing, no clever tricks that could circumvent the shields of the most well-defended starship in existence.

Not from Confederate technology, anyway. The plain truth was, from their swarm fighters to their adegan cloaks, Confederate technology was, by and large, obsolete or well on its way.

If the Confederacy wanted to take down the Shield, they would have to do it honestly.

"Shield A at eighty percent, Captain."

"Crystal Gravfield Trap data finalized, Captain."

"Relay it to the Lord Protector, Admiral Stahlmann, and the rest."

The Scion-class vessels were operating low, in the fringes of the planet's grav well, and thus it had taken the Shield this long to lock them down on the CGT. They had no gravitic modulators, no gravitic tech of any kind. In the rock-paper-scissors game of military superiority, the Confederacy's greatest advances were things that other navies had compensated for years ago. Force help them when their swarms ran into the massed anti-fighter guns of a Belsar or a Fringe fleet -- or the Shield itself.

He could respect the effort, he could respect the bravery of the tactics, but the technological edge just wasn't there. And then two separate Confederate commanders decided to bring down the shipyards.

"Target [member="Serock Hoath"]'s command ship with the main battery. Fire."

One hundred twenty-eight heavy long-range barrels fired as one, each with the power of ten turbolasers. You do the math.

 

[Arage Bao]

Location: Some random forest
Objective: Laying down the law part two
Allies: a God and the Force
Enemies: Mr. Cross and Sniper Girl ( [member="Tobias Cross"])
[member="Soliael Devin Talith"]

A lot of events transpired at once, for one Eldoc seemed to have transpired. But not evaporated, probably an effect of his training or something. Plausible, in his last moments of consciousness his mouth formed itself into an eternal scream which vibrated the very.. well.. fiber of Ovmar’s being, by then the Force Barrier was already gone so no protection was to be had by it.

Jared braced himself against the agony and horror which tried to creep up to him, visages made by the pain of a now unconscious man. It subsided of course, but a clear high-pitched ring continued to do its.. ringing inside of Ovmar’s ear. He probably would have to get that checked-out when this was all over.

The Crusader of the Holy Light descended upon them with righteous anger and fury then, in the form of more Emerald Lightning. It seemed his battle precognition had served him well in avoiding the wall of destruction, which Sol had sent against ‘em. Lucky guy.

As the Lightning forced its way to Jared Ovmar, it found that it was being redirected towards.. Soliael. As some sort of.. lightning rod apparatus? Of course it was hardly efficient, so some of the Judgement was still casted upon the sinner otherwise known as Ovmar. In turn, his hand was extended palm forward, and the lightning crackled over his skin.

Pain flashed before his eyes in a miasma of red and yellow colors, which made it even harder for Jared to see. The energy was absorbed, but not without a price. His hand was blackened from the contact, scorched clean of the vile wicked energies surrounding it.

Amber eyes almost seemed to penetrate the deep fog, as Ovmar looked at his opponent. Then two things happened.

First, he gave a measure of his strength to Sol, the False God hardly needed it. But after a show such as he had displayed before, with the wall.. well a man needs all the power he could get. At the same time Ovmar launched another mental attack, this time against Cross.

Just a few moments ago he made a man go insane, using only a small measure of his power. What would happen if he used more of it? Let’s find out.

“Your watch has ended, Warden of Light. You serve a civilization which has been controlled by Sith from it’s inception. A traitor to your cause, I call you. You averted yourself from the path of righteousness, by following the commands of the Dread Lord.”

And while the message was spoken, Ovmar commanded Cross to.. rest. To sleep, for his vigil was over. To accept that his battle was unjust and misguided. Would it work? Perhaps.

But the goal here was to distract him, give Sol an opening. While at the same time attacking Cross’ concentration.

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

Location: The Garrison
Objective: Take the Obsidian Knight Garrison
Allies: [member="Jared Ovmar"]
Enemies: [member="Eldoc Quasat"], [member="Tobias Cross"], [member="Seanna Vel"]

As the lightning surge through his upraised arm Soliael concentrated.

He let out a whimper of pain as green electricity rushed through his very bones. It seared and burned his flesh, pain rushing through him like a tidal wave as green energy began to form in the palm of his hand. Slowly the lightning dissipated, surging into his metal palm and forming into a tiny ball. Then Soliael crushed the energy, dissipating it as his teeth snapped shut.

“Pathetic.” Soliael said as suddenly his entire body shook.

Vibrations ran over and through him, his entire body shaking slightly as the force scream caught him. A slight sheen covered his skin, a miniscule force barrier as the scream tore at his clothes, ripping apart his shirt, his pants, and chipping away a part of his mask. The Scream dissipated, and the power of his friend surged through him.

Soliael felt strength anew, Jareds power added to his own. He smirked slightly, and then stepped forward, dust erupted from his boot, and suddenly the mist dissipated instantly. The wall of fog rushed away from in front of them, and Tobias was revealed. A direct tunnel between the two masters, and their opponent.

The False god stepped forward, and once again snapped his fingers.

A net of sorts lashed out from Soliaels palm, strings of red and black light dashing out and surging towards Tobias, moving to ensnare and entrap him within their grasp.

 

[Dicer]

Location: Al Avari outskirts. FOB – to be clear I am with the ODF amassing forces some 10km from the main battle in the centre of the city (this is a damn big battlefield people). This posts responds to actions and counter actions to attack our positions that happened last night (apologies for being on GMT )
Objective: Hold the city
Allies: OP, [member=HK-36]
Enemies: CIS, [member="Darth Kentarch"]


Dicer clung for dear life to the soil. He tried to steady his nerves as chaos reigned all around him. The Confederate forces had launched a counter attack on their position. They had expected to come under artillery fire, but had expected the main CIS defence forces to be dealing with the drop ships ten clicks from their position in the centre of the city.

The armored and mechanised infantry divisions had already made inroads into the city to join the assault on the central financial districts. That didn’t leave their positions defenceless. The noise of the Manticore’s unleashing a stream of barrages on targets within the city was constant.

Dicer placed one hand under himself and started to bring himself to his knees, but his SL – Sergeant Jonas – grabbed him by his shoulders and hoisted him to his feet. He turned Curtis to face him. The pair of them stood face-to-face in the midst of hell.

“Get a damn hold of yourself Private!” Jonas shouted. He forcefully pushed Dicer’s rifle to his shoulder. “Eye’s up, man the line!”

Dicer nodded meekly. As soon as he felt the CC13 shouldered in its customary position, muscle memory kicked in and overrode his fear. He rushed to the defences, kneeling to a comfortable shooting position.

“Good to have you with us!” shouted Corporal Stich over the blaster fire. Confederate soldiers and droids had abandoned their stone barricade and were advancing on their position.

Dicer took a calming breath and squeezed the trigger. A unleashed a few bolts on a squad a few hundred metres ahead. He missed his target, but the squad dove for cover – pinned. A moment later a mortar round landed on their position, and Dicer fired into the debris. He thought he might just have made his first kill, but couldn’t be sure.

As his reflexively took a new aim and continued firing he tried to think what that meant to him. He couldn’t emotionally process it right now. Seeing someone drop two hundred metres away felt like nothing more than watching a holovid.

“Good lad Charles!” Haden, his ASL congratulated.

The Protectorate forces had solidified their position with repeater nests and heavy weapons. Streams of bolts leapt out towards the advancing Confederates. Hot death rained down upon their enemies as heavy bolts that could cut through light vehicles as easily as men found their targets.



“Get down!” someone shouted. Dicer saw the streak high in the distance as a formation of CIS aircraft headed towards their position. He dropped to the ground.

To his left the ground erupted as airstrikes cut a swathe of destruction a hundred metres long through the Protectorate lines. Ducking wouldn’t have helped him if he’d been in the centre of that. As he reassumed his position a blaster bolt lanced out of the CIS lines directly towards him.

For just a moment, he thought it must have. The flashing red light on his HUD indicated a fellow squad mate was down. He turned to his right to see Private Jenkins fall to the ground, a smoking black hole in his chest. Dicer rushed to his aid, but he was pushed aside by the squad medic Corporal “Stitch.”

Jenkins’ helmet was pulled off, but Dicer could see that his eyes had no signs of life. It was horrific. A moment before his friend had been next to him, now just a bloody mess.

“Keep firing!” Jonas shouted.

He did as he was told, taking him his place in the ruins that made up the outer line of their defences. A click or so to his left, across an expansion of open ground, he could see an enemy formation of armor emerge from the city and begin firing on their flank. Several rockets left the Protectorate lines, damaging a few of their aggressors.

A mighty roar began to sound behind them. “That noise people,” Jonas began, “Is the sound of ‘get your s*** together because we’re going to move soon!”

Dicer knew what the sergeant meant, but he failed to mirror he commander’s enthusiasm. Far behind them the Peregrines, LAACs and M47s were being warmed up for an assault on the city.

Theres would not be a rapid advance. There would be working from building to building, clearing out all Confederate forces and completing the conquest. It wouldn’t be over until every CIS rifle was down.

Dicer and the whole of the Protectorate lines of thousands of men continued exchanging fire with the advancing enemy. Before the gunships could even get off the ground to try and counter the armor that was rolling their left flank, the skies lit up as an orbital bombardment commenced. The attacking column of armor vanished under a blossoming cloud of debris. Great streaks could be seen as further bombardment hit targets deep within the city.

There was a lot of cheering and shouting from the Protectorate lines. A single round of bombardment could never quash an enemy, but for now the enemy’s advance had stalled and the artillery fire coming their way had reduced.

“Get ready men, we’re going to hit those walls. We’re going on foot with the light walkers, some of the other Company’s are taking the shuttles to get behind those walls!” explained the Platoon Commander, Lieutenant JP. As if to accentuate his orders the stone walls were lit up by further rounds of artillery fire in the distance. He chuckled over the comms, "Seriously who builds city walls? No one has bothered for about a hundred thousand years!"

Dicer moved forward with his squad, exchanging fire with the enemy, but for now they had the impetus. His body went through the motions, but his mind was fixated on the death of his squad mate. That could happen to him at any moment. He was just another face in an army of millions. When a stray shot, shell or mine tore him from existence the army would just drag his corpse to one side and carry on marching.

Not today though! he thought to himself. Today wasn’t going to be his turn to die.

“Keep your head down Charles!” shouted his squad leader disapprovingly. “By the Force I’m a soldier not a babysitter.”

“Sorry sarge,” Dicer mumbled, realising that as he had made that promise to himself he'd left himself hopelessly exposed.

---

OOC: The Protectorate ODF repels the strikes on their position and starts to advance. Reminder: we are over 10km from the centre of the city. It is going to take us hours to days to reach to fighting in the centre of the city if we’re opposed.

 

[Disciple]

Hurtling through space in the Escape Pod of Justice
Allies: Little Girl, CIS
Enemies: Parents, OP

So here he was, flying past shipyard being blown up, escape pod hoping to reach atmosphere and then crash somewhat safely - a hilarious thought - so that the passengers could survive. Humming an old tune for the amusement of his charge, he tapped a booted foot gently, the shaking of his body sloshing the liquid in the vials on his chest.

Music to his old ears.

He still couldn't see Protectorate ships, but maybe they'd swapped places with the CIS ones? It would explain the shipyards. But his view was gone now, replaced by orange as he passed into the atmosphere.

"Wanna play a game?" He asks the girl seated next to him.

She emphatically shook her head no.

"I knew you would." He says, sounding pleased with himself.

 

[Aeron Kreelan]

Location: Garrison
Objective: Take control of the Garrison
Allies: Sol and Jared
Enemies: None yet

While the two men locked heads with Tobias, Aeron along with her contingent of droids and Omega Pyre Spec ops went into the garrison. So far, that had been no opposition.

A sudden volley of red bolts of blaster fire from droids came at their direction.

Spoke too soon!

The droid guards of the garrison stood their ground to defend the area. But the Pyre was prepared for such a fight against droids. E-gel rifles along with ion weapons would tear at the droids, while the Shadow Guard Forcers of the Pyre sent arcs of ionize energy to disable them.

This was only the beginning.

Aeron in the meantime, immersed herself into the Force. She’d been training on a new technique that would allow her to bend light around her, cloaking her from few from organic and inorganic alike.

She wasn’t too experienced with it, but she would try. She only needed a few seconds with it. Running at full speed, she went into a jump before spinning, bending the light around her as she disappeared for a scant few seconds.

Seconds were all she needed as she suddenly reappeared behind a droid. With a grunt, she cocked her rifle as she appeared sliding under him, sending a volley of blaster fire right under his body, to the vulnerable area under his belly.

Electric sparks would fly all over as the droid was destroyed, prompting Aeron to roll to the right to avoid it.

 

[Raziel]

Objective: Defend the Capital – specifically slow the advance of OP reinforcements
Allies: CIS
Enemies: OP
Location: Several km away from the main battle, but between the centre and the OP reinforcements.

Raziel kept his grip tight on the garrotte as the soldier struggled. The man kicked and wriggled, but it was no good. When it came to murder, Raziel knew his profession well. The struggling subsided and Raziel felt the man’s life-force slowly slip away. Another blood stain on his hands. Another powerful burst of horrific emotions forever etched on his mind.

One day the killing would end.

Raziel had lured the man’s squad into his building using mind tricks and illusions. He had them proceeded to pick them off slowly, one by one. He had been repeating this trick for a while now. Along with the special forces he was working alongside, they had turned a kilometre square of the city into a death trap. Their mines were all used now, but they had ambushed every platoon that had attempted to cross this territory. The Protectorate would have to force them out slowly, building-by-building.

Raziel turned to the windows. He could sense another group of solders advancing down the street below. He closed his eyes and expanded his senses. The physical world was shades of muted grey to his mind’s eye, he could sense it, but it didn’t draw his attention. As his influence expanded, the life forms below were brilliant points of light. As tendrils of influece reached out towards them, those lights changed colour to reflect the emotions of the men.

Raziel’s eyes snapped open and he moved to the window. Three squads of soldiers and a light tank were making their way down the road. The gunner on the vehicle was swinging his gun back and forth as he scanned the buildings around them. Raziel used the connections he had established to play on their emotions. He enhanced their fear and started creating small illusions. Just sounds for now, but enough to keep the soldiers tracking back and forth.

Of course, he could also sense the special forces fire teams in the building opposite him. Three teams occupying the third, sixth and eighth floors. A moment later a rocket streaked down and hit the vehicle’s canopy. Raziel sensed the gunner’s life extinguished.

There was a crack as a sniper picked off the only officer in sight. A tinkle of glass accompanied his death as the shattered remains of his visor landed around him. Repeater fire followed the platoon as they tried to fall back. The flaming vehicle reverse wildly. Raziel touched the pilot’s mind, just enough to make him forget the….pothole from an exploded mine.

The vehicles rear half dropped a foot, leaving it stuck. The Protectorate soldiers still alive fell back to the side streets, some took cover behind the stuck vehicle.



Raziel decided that it was time for him to enter the fray. If the troops held their ground reinforcements would follow shortly, and the same trick wouldn’t work again. He allowed the Force to guide him as he rushed through his building. He wove a path between rooms as he darted along. He reached out and pulled open a window ahead of him and leapt as he reached the threshold.

Raziel went through the air like a dark, crossing the ten metre gap and going through the opening on the other side of the street. He rolled to his feet and made for a stairwell, kicking the door open before him. Raziel was four feet up, but he simply dropped, allowing the Force to slow his descent.

He was armed now, one of his dual-phase sabers in one hand and a fletchette pistol in the other. With such speed, stealth and senses, outmanoeuvring a few soldiers was all too easy. It was also essential. Just a single organised squad of men with a few heavy weapons could output a fearsome amount of firepower. Too much for any personal armour, and too much for him to deflect with sabers. No, his skill and wits allowed him to avoid head-to-head confrontations when he knew it was futile.

The squad he stalked had taken cover in an alleyway between two buildings. The small maintenance door behind them burst open and Raziel emerged. There was a “snap-hiss” as his turquoise blade came to life. The soldier nearest him managed a shot, but the Force guided his actions and he turned the bolt away with a stroke. He responded by firing his pistol, deadly at this close range. The next soldier managed to fire, but Raziel simply ducked, knowing where that bolt was headed. He gunned down that man too. The alley was so narrow they could only stand two abreast. Behind them a stream of repeater fire blocked their retreat.

Before they could make any more resistance Raziel was amongst them. His pistol discarded for his second blade. They stood no chance. They died one by one. Soon he would return to the shadows and prepare for the next ambush.

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Location: Several hundred yards in front of the Garrison
Objective: Defend the Garrison
Enemies: [member="Jared Ovmar"] [member="Soliael Devin Talith"]

The Defender of Virtue felt lidded eyes grow heavy. Legs lost their strength and he fell to his knees even as the fog was blown away, revealing the denizens of darkness who sought to defeat him. Sleep, yes, weary thews didst need repose, but in sleep he would hear the gnashing of a thousand jaws in anguish. Oh how would the tender caress of dreams turn at once to a grip of horrid nightmare, when he didst awake and find the object of the defense in ashes? Slaves could dream in earnest, sleep untroubled by pressing duty, but for this Knight came no such simplicity.

Struggling 'gainst the vile weakness of mortal flesh that did bid him to rest, the earnest Knight dropped the lightwhip and reached for the gleaming blade at his hip. He drew it forth with a rasp that sounded as a hungry scrape of vicious beast's claws upon stone. Triumphant might surged through him, the power of a Force Nexus instilled in this unholy blade, Murmegil, who he'd dared not draw forth 'til he had need of it. And now the need was so very great.

Bolts of electricity burst to life in those eyes of coruscating blue and he rose up on one foot, denying the pressure that bade him to hay and health.

"Wouldst thou seek to so easily defeat this personage? I am the Knight who bears in him the avenging fire of light. I wilst not sleep 'til I cleave thy heads from shoulders and hear the refreshing thumps upon the floor, then will I use thy bloodied crowns as pillows for my rest."

But lo, there came a rushing sound as a humming net burst from the hands of the taller foe and wrapped red tendrils about the Defender of Virture. At once, he felt his connection to the vast and powerful energy of the Force vanish into nothing. The sword Murmegil slipped from numbing fingers and thumped upon the ground, then did the net of red energy wrap about him and press ever closer, sapping will from sinew and returning him to his knees.

"I am a knight of the holy order," he thought, "I will not scream."

The lattice of energy snapped closed, cutting through cloth, armor and bone.

Tobias screamed.

The scream ended as the net severed his body into a hundred pieces that lay scattered in bloody chunks upon the floor.