Invasion No Quarter | NIO Invasion of TSE held Dantooine

[Kenth Ordo]

B E T T E R _ T H A N _ E X P E C T E D
NEW JEDI ORDER
OBJECTIVE II: FIELD HOSPITAL | POST II
SOMEWHERE NEAR GARANG
EQUIPMENT: LIGHTSABER
ENGAGING: TBD, OPEN

In the short time period that Kenth had been holed up in the field hospital with the wounded, he had learned so much more about the applications of the Force towards healing than he had in the weeks he had spent researching the topic in the library of the Prosperity. Perhaps there was something about failure leading to the death of a being that spurred him on to succeed despite insurmountable odds.

He was no Jedi healer, far from it - he was a man of war, born in it and moulded by it for as long as he could remember, ever since he was orphaned by the One Sith. But the army had taught him the basics of first aid, and the Force made it even easier to apply it. Washing his hands after helping a medic perform field surgery on an injured Sith-Imperial trooper, Kenth felt a small tug at the edge of his mind.

Standing near the entrance of the hospital, he reached out and sensed the hundreds of wounded individuals that still required help. He looked back into the hospital and took note of the number of medics and Jedi inside, silently considering a plan of action. Poking the shoulder of a nearby Jedi, Kenth informed him that he'd be going out to find more wounded to bring back, receiving a nod of acknowledgement.

Moving to leave, he realized it would be rather stupid of him to go into an urban warzone wearing a simple long-sleeved shirt and oil-stained trousers. Soon enough, after walked towards Garang from the outskirts he'd find a small outpost that had been set up to resupply the FOBs deeper into the city. Striding up to a harried-looking quartermaster, Kenth gave him a small grin and made sure his lightsaber was visible.

"Eh, what do you want?" The quartermaster grunted, handing-off a manifest to a nearby aide. "I'm going into Garang to help get the wounded to the field hospital, do you have anything worthwhile in the protection department?" The Jedi queried, prompting the quartermaster to size him up.

"Yeah...yeah...I might have something for you…"

Minutes later and Kenth was begrudgingly walking towards Garang in Dooku-pattern battle armour that was a little too tight and had a giant NIO emblem stamped on the shoulder.

"Should've guessed."

 

[Tavius Muuaji]

WEATHER THE STORM
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
STORM COMMANDOS
SPEARHEAD ASSAULT
Armor | Rifle | Pistol | Various Grenades

DONT_PUSH_ME​

"You're right. It's nothing like Shili." he venomously stated remarking an earlier comment made by Tavius.

Muajii raised an eyebrow beneath his helmet.

"Eyes on mortar team.."

Peering down the scope of the rifle, he pulled away from the window, leaning against the wall beside it.

"Look at what they have done..."

"What are yo... Shut up." He shook his head before lining his shot up again. He saw the mortar shells as they were being loaded. He saw the tell tale design of their Sith-Imperial Trooper helmets. Only for a moment before a two round burst into the trooper on lookout, and when the second trooper that was mindlessly loading the mortar started rising to their feet, he burst fired the bottom of the mortar stand.

The electromagnetic at the base of the tube being slagged before erupting in an explosion as the building cave in on itself.

"Mortar d-"

Before he could even get the words out, an unseen shooter started gunning at the second floor they were in. He didn't need to call out, Sinestra 's survival sense was almost as good as his, and he was about as force sensitive as a door knob. Tavius hit the wall beside the window, slugs flying through the space he had been occupying.

He peeked out, spotting the flash of the muzzle across the streets before he pulled back from the window.

From the pouch on his waist, he reached in to pull one of the explosive projectiles from its personalized pouch and he loaded it into the barrel laucher. Stepping out into the open, he was reckless, not even paying attention as to whether or not Frank Sterling was still unloading on them. He was sure his armour would be able to handle it. As if the Force itself willed him to be protected, the bullets shot past him, as he lined up his shot.

Upon pressing on the trigger, the explosive projectile flew out from its barrel, aimed for the window that the LMG was dumping lead from before he'd drop out of the line of fire.

"I get 'em?!"

He didn't realize it yet, but a few of the slugs struck him, armour pierced and numerous thermal gel cracks running through his torso, but the adrenaline neutralized that pain. For now, at least.

ALLIES | NIO | NJO | SOM | Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt | Sturit Goan | Daros Karmann | Sinestra
ENEMIES | TSE | THE ELDER COMPACT | | Joycelyn Zambrano | Darth Prazutis | Gnox the Insatiable | Frank Sterling | Luna Terrik | Alisteri Haxim | Taiia Mataan | Aiden Wolf | Aurelion Nova | Ursula Vizla
DIRECTLY ENGAGING: Frank Sterling ( Aurelion Nova & Ulrich )

 

[Ty Sibo]

Heavy Brass fell like rain from an angry god as The Granade machine guns hammered the streets below pushing enemy forces back and slaughtering those too slow to find cover. Ty's biodroids Proving their worth At keeping the enemy pinned down, one of the riflemen running between Ty The gunners, and the second rifleman as they shot at any Sob pushing through the city. The Apartment floor already seeing wear and tear as blaster bolts hammered the structure and caused crater holes in various walls. "3, I need More 40mm on the west side." Biodroid 2 shouted out as he switched to the laser battle rifle while he waited for a reload.

Ty had his own quarry to deal with as he used his anti-material rifle to pic off Medical crews coming to pick up their wounded Imperials, of course Ty wasn't directly shooting at them but he was blowing holes in their vehicles and bogging them down keeping them from getting to their boys who needed medical aid. "1 move that GMG to the westside and help support 2!" Ty shouted via telepathy as he continued to put death downrange.

Dragging could nearly be heard over the cacophony of gunfire but what caught Ty's attention was while biodroid 3 was loading the new rounds To the GMG into the weapon a blaster shot from a sniper blaster collided with the side of the Droids helmet. Things seemed to almost go into slow motion as Ty looked on. "4 get some medical for 3 now!" Ty yelled. as biodroid 1 got back on the gun chambering it before asking "Where was that sob?" 2 was able to rattle off the location as rounds flew in that direction blowing the cover and hopefully the sniper apart. As Ty moved to the com System.

"This Is Ty Sibo I'm requesting medivac I got a man down in critical condition!" While Ty Tried to raise anyone on coms He looked over to boidroid 4 was busy trying to patch up the wound on the writhing in pain soldier. "Hold still man you're going to be fine you hear me just stay calm."
While Ty continued to attempt to raise anyone in the area for help, biodroid 2 would carry his laser battle rifle to Ty's old position to keep others pinned down.

 

[Starlin Rand]

​

Location: The Enclave archives
Objective: Get curbstomped
Gear: Starlin Rand's lightsaber | Mt. Muspelheim Shoto | Upgraded Fenelar Armor
Writing With: Cotan Sar'andor

Cotan, also a Jedi, was clearly not going to attack first. He was however attempting to steal Starlin’s bag, which counted as an offensive act, right? Thieves were criminals. You could attack a thief that tried to steal your stuff.

Yeah… Yeah!

Starlin snatched the bag out of Cotan’s grasp with the telekinetic equivalent of a slap on the wrist. “Uh-uh, man. Swiper no swiping.”

He probably should’ve tossed the bag aside for the fight, but he was afraid Cotan would simply knock him aside and seize it, then run off cackling like a maniac. So the backpack stayed on his back even as he charged forward… right past Cotan and across the battlefield to somewhere safer for a Padawan learner.

No, I’m kidding. This is Starlin Rand we’re talking about.

He charged Cotan head on. The blue blade of his lightsaber set out to occupy Cotan’s own weapon, while his shoto made a shot for his gut. Even if the elder Jedi managed to evade it, there was a high likelihood he would get sprayed by flecks of lava from the smaller orange blade. Probably not enough to cause serious damage, but it might hurt a lot.

 

[Luna Terrik]

F I R S T - I N

Location: Dantooine, Garang City, Libra Gold
Time: 1110 Hours
Equipment: Personal XIPHOS armor, BAW-89 Carbine Rifle, Tactical Recon Handgun (2), G-20 Glop Grenade (3), Thermal Detonator (2)
Objective: (1) Establish communications, (2) Create barrier range, (3) Get reinforcements on planet, (4) Push back the attackers.
Ally Tags: | Cara Dorniarn | Darth Prazutis | Aurelion Nova | Taiia Mataan | Kyyrk | Kiff Brayde |
Enemy tags: | Jaeger Harrsk | Djorn Bline | Tyrell Paxxus | Irveric Tavlar | @NIO or GA attacking the garrison |

Thoughts of doubt began to float within the grand marshal’s mind the longer she walked through the sith’s garrison, headed toward the vehicle garage. The way this base was constructed didn’t exactly lend to a long term defense. Wide open hallways with little to no chokeoff points meant that fighting within the confines of the base itself was going to be the ultimate last resort, and only one they’d resort to if completely necessary. She longed to be back on scarif in this situation, or to have least had a hand in building the base that she was now tasked with defending.

Camp Phoenix was built to survive a siege like this. It was larger than this garrison, obviously, and meant for training as much as a BOO. Yet everything was built with the mind that they could be attacked at the slightest moment’s notice. With the majority of the base below the ground level, that meant that the enemy would be fighting on their terms the entire time. Without the home field advantage, so to speak, that Phoenix offered, Luna had a much harder time believing any sort of defense would be worth it in the end.

Especially when there was civilians involved.

She counted at least six, maybe seven families of civvies on her way to the garage, each raising her blood pressure and anger at the sight. Eventually, just as the squad was making it to their destination, an younger officer dashing out found himself being grabbed and gripped by the collar by the fuming commando. “You mind telling me why there are civvies here?” Her grip tightened on the young officers collar, and even with her voice distorted by the helmet’s comm, the absolute anger in her voice was evident.

The kid, as he could be described as little more than that, visibly gulped at the outburst from the armor clad woman. Speaking with a shake in his voice, his eyes began to dart down the hall from the people back to Luna. “I’m..I’m not sure! They must’ve been in the gym when the attack star-.” He wasn’t given the chance to answer, Luna practically tossing him toward the people who should very much not be in this situation.

“Honestly, I don’t care why they are here. All I do care about it that they don’t need to be! Get dropships here, and get them out of here, now!” Honestly, she didn’t even wait to see what the officer would say or how he would react. Instead, the moment the words slipped past her lips, she turned on her heel and practically stormed into the garage, and the rest of the omega’s flanked her the whole way in.

The flurry of activity within the massive room did give Luna a slightly better idea that these people had an idea of what they were doing. Vehicle crews were getting to their vehicles, no doubt to start making their way across the bridge and into the streets, while pilots were doing final checks on gunships. Maybe there was a chance they would walk out of this after all.

It wasn’t hard to find the other dauntless squad once they entered into the garage, as the purple accents on their armor stood our starkly in contract to the other soldiers in the room. Swiftly the two squads came together, and there was a sigh of relief on Luna’s end upon seeing that both squads had their entire twelve man units. Especially the CO of alpha, being one of the few master sergeants that had Luna’s complete and utter trust, Q’aria Tvenes.

The sniper rifle strapped tightly to the Zabrak’s back shook just slightly as the pair of cos clasped their forearms together in a quick moment of solidarity, before they began to walk as a group to the entrance of the garage. Q’aria’s voice was just loud enough to be heard over the sounds of the walkers storming past them, close enough that Luna almost felt like a old woman shaking her fist to tell them to get off her lawn. “I made sure to get a comm to Rebellious Hawk about the situation we’re in. Tau and Delta are suiting up and jumping from low orbit within the next ten. As for these…soldiers, they’ve begun to set up a defense in the courtyard ahead, but have also started to expand the defensive perimeter into the street beyond. I’m honesty not sure where most of vehicles are going, but I did see them send out at least two of those repulsertanks and park them just outside the wall.”

The start of a defense, at least. The two groups of commandos were just beginning to pass over the bridge to the courtyward at this point, where Luna could indeed see multiple what looked to be troop transports set up. Not much good for crowd control, but at least they’d be useful for anti-air. The rest of the courtyard had been set up with various EWeb and durosteel barrier cover spots. If the imperials did make it this far, at least they’d have a good chance of the defending the courtyard.

Before the two squads moved to take positions up on the wall at the end of the open space, Luna stopped Q’aria for a moment, jerking her thumb back behind them towards the base. “Take your spotter, tix, and duo with you and find a spot to set up. Overwatch and target spotting. Get the High Marshall ( Kiff Brayde ) on the comm as well. We need air support, target spotting, anything he can spare.” Without another word, the master sergeant gave her a nod, motioned to the subsequent commandos, and started sprinting back across the bridge with the three commandos following quickly in step.

Turning back to what was left of the two squads, she took a deep breath then nodded toward the wall. “Lets head up and set up. Make sure you pair off and are at least somewhat near their droids that can take fire for you. Lets do it.” Much like Q’aria, there wasn’t much of a conversation from the commandos beyond the few words it took to pair up before they started up the ladders to take their place. The time for joking, playing around was far gone. And as Luna climbed the ladder herself, Bones taking his place by her side, and the humm of the repulsertanks filling the quiet air just outside the walls, one thing was very clear.

It was time to go to work.

 

[Cotan Sar'andor]

​

Location: Enclave
Allies: NIO | NJO | GA
Frenemies: SJC | Starlin Rand
Enemies: TSE | CIS

What was it with kids and strange crystals in their lightsabers doing strange things, like lava crystals? Did nobody appreciate normal, elegant blade-work anymore, that they had to always have some sort of fresh and fancy new combat ability added to their weapon? Or turning them into blasters? Cotan couldn't understand it even if he tried. Regardless, it added an extra complication for him to deal with in fighting this kid, alongside not breaking whatever was in his bag or outright killing him.

As Starlin rushed forward, both blades extended, Cotan stepped backwards and to his right, voiding both Starlin's attempt to constrain his lightsaber and the spray of lava droplets from the boy's secondary weapon, though one or two did sear holes through the left side of his shirt. In the same movement he whirled his blade around clockwise, angling it such that the tip, if unopposed, would cut up and through the emitter of the shoto. For better or for worse, he was still trying to avoid harming Starlin directly—worried as he was that it would soon prove required to end the fight.

 

[Starlin Rand]

​

Location: The Enclave archives
Objective: Get curbstomped
Gear: Starlin Rand's lightsaber | Mt. Muspelheim Shoto | Upgraded Fenelar Armor
Writing With: Cotan Sar'andor

Oh.

He moved.

Ripples in the Force signified the change in motion. Starlin felt the world (or at least, his perception of it) slow down as Cotan stepped out of the way, evading both his strikes. The master’s saber was headed for the emitter of his shoto, a blow that would break the weapon, rendering it unusable.

Come on, man! That shoto was a gift from Syd! Not to mention it’s fething awesome!

Starlin was not yet skilled enough to adequately evade the blow without leaving an opening in the process. So he did the only thing he could to avoid the shoto’s destruction and his own injury.

He dropped it.

The weapon fell to the ground in front of Cotan while Starlin spun away from the master, still clutching his lightsaber in his right hand. He reached out with his left—and suddenly the shoto reappeared in his palm, though he almost dropped it again, being unused to the teleportation effect it had.

“I didn’t know whether or not that would work,” Starlin said, grinning in relief. “But I’m willing to bet you didn’t expect it!”

With that, he leaped at Cotan, this time going for a fake slash with his lightsaber that revealed itself to be a punch to the nose, followed by a chop with the shoto aimed at the master’s sword arm and a sweeping martial arts kick to his ankles. All these moves were intended to either disarm him or knock him off his feet, either would work.

 

[Rurik Fel]

M A N _ O F _ I R O N
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
LORD EXECUTOR
KNIGHTS OF THE EMPIRE
Iron Skin | Lightsaber

I AM NOT ALONE
​

That same shock of the frighteningly swift end of his host that overcame him at the Eternal Empire's excursion into the Sith Empire came again once the former Dark Lord and his Dawnguard ally surged from the void into the field of battle around them. He watched as the Sith sorcery cut a bloodied swath through his stormtroopers, his knights. He watched with his forthright placidity steeling the waryness he felt of those valiant souls, beating with their defiance snuffed out in an instant, each of them.

"I failed you, my brothers. I am sorry..."

"I am the will of your vengeance."​

He couldn't help to muster the fiber to mutter the same here and now if he ever wished too. Instead, he only ordered to those still living in the wake of the rapid devestation.

"Press the advantage, no quarter." Rurik commanded to his knights, those that were left of his retinue flooding toward the exposed entrance of the temple.

Leaving this crucible of light, dark and all in between to the fate they would conjure.

That great, burgeoning darkness threatened to break the self contained bulwark embracing his psyche as he turned up hill to face him. An entity, a miasma in darkness enough to rival the Demon and the Devil themselves. Vornskr...Carnifex.

But that stark and ever present darkness was wrought into a faltering malaise at the presence of the man at Carnifex’s flank. Thurion Heavenshield, the Sovereign of Midvinter. One of the brightest lights, an ever reliable beacon of hope, wisdom and salvation from darkness which continued to ever presently shine in the Galaxy. A true and genuine hero of his order, his people. And here he was standing as the comrade to the darkness, the doom made manifest. It was a sickening, absurd sight to behold and Oceiros was the first to evoke the hope of speaking reason into Thurion.

Rurik would speak to this man but if he was so willing to lay to rest the demented machinations of Kaine in favor of...what? Making certain Dantooine was never a home to the Jedi again? Beholding to a political alignment? And one faltering at best? No. Only one thing could’ve evoked this lunacy, this unnatural bond of the brightest light and darkest shadow. In spite of the Jedi Code scorning all attachments, it had to be Midvinter. His people, his family. He well and truly doubted a genuine fall to the darkness, that lionhearted stature and light in his eyes had yet to fade or falter.

So too, retaining 'Sith'ari' or not did Carnifex weld the vantablack darkness, an overpowering aura of the sickening dread.

But none of it could piece the heavy metal veil of Rurik. His resolve tempered, his battle to nigh destruction against the Devil Kascalion Giedfield and the Demon Darth Prazutis had all but made certain that he would not be forced to capitulation by any measure of ease. Even if it took this once Sith'ari and the Grandmaster to break the iron.

But it would not bend.

Rurik would do what must be done.

"Do not falter, control yourself. Discipline will win the day here, Sunstrider. They will seek to bend what you believe, they will seek to control your emotions. Remain resolute. " Rurik said beneath his breath to the Jedi as he began his approach, what was remaining of his host flooding toward the Temple. All the while, he honed in on each muscle, ligament and segmented part of his mortal shell, his false guise of living flesh.

He approached up the hill toward the scions of Dark and Light, the starkly contrasting dyad, the argent blade snuffed out from the open air with its characteristic rip, with the hilt still held in his cybernetic limb he

"The Dark Lord and the Lion King march in unison...but I see no Bryn'adul here, master Jedi. And yet...you fight to make certain...that the Jedi never return to Dantooine...that darkness continues to corrupt in this seemlessly endless night. But I would not be so brazen as to raise my blade to you, your grace." Rurik says, glancing warily toward the Sith before looking to Thurion again.

"You fight for your home...of that I can only deduce being the only sane reason why you could home here to make certain this Sith terror remains rooted in the Galaxy even longer...but you do not have to live in fear, brother. My people, the New Order can protect Midvinter. From the Sith, the Bryn'adul...anything that'd ever dare threaten your sovereign realm and its people...all you need to do..." Rurik says, leaving his thought unconcluded, peerign to the amber grasses beneath before looking back up toward the Jedi and then with an instant snap of his gaze toward Carnifex, his eyes narrowing and welling with focus.

"Is do what you know is right." ​

He says before the argent blade cracks to life again, the Imperial Knight wielding the elegant weapon surges toward Carnifex with a leap into the air he readies his saber to plunge into the abdomen of the great beast, the Galactic marauder. The final devil of his broken path. With his metal hand, he wields his blade and in his other, he beckons The Force to his command.

Coalescing a surge of energy into his closed hand he makes due on the short build up by letting his fingers splay out once more, letting the telekinetic energy surge out in a short but concentrated 'blast' toward Carnifex.

"I will make sure of it that you meet your end, demon." Rurik says, venom tainting the inflection of his voice.

THE UNTHINKABLE
Darth Carnifex | Thurion Heavenshield

THE WILLING
Oceiros Sunstrider
​

ALLIES | NIO | NJO | SOM | Jin Kyrel | Hans Rennagen
ENEMIES | TSE | THE ELDER COMPACT | Arctus Silmar | Other Space Kaiden

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Equipment​

Armor Taralraiskaz Battle Plate Helm of Malignant Anima Fist of Moridin the Great Weapons Derriphan the Devourer Other Empyrean Gland

Power radiated out from the once-Emperor, lashing the dogs which howled so incessantly at their gates. Lightning raked the ground, the earth vitrifying into broken shards of glass from the intense heat generated by the Sith Lord's unbridled fury. But despite the intensity of his attacks against the New Imperial Order's foot soldiers, the nexus which churned and broiled around Carnifex himself was cold, frigid even. The land around his feet withered with permafrost with every step, the vitality leached from the very soil that his blackened greaves tread upon.​

​

The Dark Side seethed with triumphant mirth, relishing in the destruction its chosen champion was unleashing. Carnifex held nothing back from every attack, his every display of power utterly vulgar. The Dark Side flowed through him freely, there were no barricades or stopgaps to keep it restrained. Like water bursting from a ruptured pipe, it suffused every atom that comprised his physical being.​

​

But the Force alone did not rend and destroy, for his diabolical blade scythed through the air like a howling phantom. Each rotation of its eternally sharp edge cleaved another soldier in twain, cutting through betaplast and durasteel as if it were tissue paper. Blood slickened the rune-carved blade, each inscription pulsating with malevolent hunger. For every creature it cut down in its path, that soul, their consciousness, was absorbed by the power of the sword. There they joined thousands of others, all victims of the once-Emperor's bloodthirst.​

​

Derriphan slammed into the chest of an enemy soldier, burying itself up until the hilt guard as the body crumbled and fell to the side. The blade wiggled once then twisted violently to the side, rupturing the torso and freeing itself to fly back up into the air. But instead of continuing on its ravenous path, the blade idles in the air as the confrontation between its master, his unlikely ally, and their enemies began to unfold.​

​

Baleful eyes fell on the two individuals which approached him, recognizing one but not the other. ​

​

"Sunstrider," he spoke, the single solitary word reverberating with such force that all other sounds appeared muted in the wake of its uttering. "As expected." His eyes briefly flicked over to the other, his nostrils widening under his helm as he caught a whiff of the blood coursing through the iron-masked man's veins. It was a familiar odor, one that he recognized locked within the confines of his memory. He had spilled such blood before, in copious amounts. That man was dead, so this had to be one of his kin. No doubt hungry for vengeance.​

​

"The Fel whelp, however, was not. Though it makes little difference." A slow methodical turn of his head from enemy to Thurion brought his gaze upon the Lion King, "Someone for you to slake your blade's thirst with, Heavenshield. Not a Jedi, not a Sith. A nothing."​

​

The Fel Knight rushed forward at that moment, having finished his impassioned plea for Heavenshield to see reason, to see logic. As if they had any right to speak of such things, possessing neither themselves. He spread his arms mockingly as if embracing the Imperial Knight to come at him with everything he could muster, though his face remained the ever grim mask it was since this entire ordeal began. He crossed his arms in front of his chest in the shape of an X the moment before the wave of Force energy collided with him, a visible pulse-wave of air cascading up and around him from the impact, his boots digging into the fetid soil until the stone beneath cracked under the weight.​

​

A split second later, the tell-tale sound of the once-Emperor's sword moving through the air could be heard above the racket. Having started moving the moment the Fel Knight had, it soared through the air, straight and true, towards the leaping Knight's back with the intent to skewer him from back to front. ​

​

Thurion Heavenshield | Rurik Fel | Oceiros Sunstrider ​

 

[Cotan Sar'andor]

​

Location: Enclave
Allies: NIO | NJO | GA
Frenemies: SJC | Starlin Rand
Enemies: TSE | CIS

Dropping the lightsaber wasn't a tactic Cotan entirely expected, but at least it worked. It left the Padawan well open to a quick thrust, but loathe as he was to harm the younger Jedi, he didn't lunge forward to do it. No, he settled back into his own defensive stance, waiting to see what happened. As expected, the teleportation wasn't entirely expected; the banter, though, was.

While the Padawan spoke he stepped back slightly, raising his left hand; when Starlin lept, before he could even contact Cotan at all, the elder lashed out with a quick Force Push. It wasn't enough to specifically harm the kid—but hitting him like a punch to the gut while he was in the air, it should be enough to knock him down, and definitely enough to distract him and keep him from making whatever attack he was leaping in for.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

​

GEAR: This and That
CIS: Lavria Xedrim | Redd
SITH: Darth Prazutis
NIO: N/A

FEAR.​

​

His sister Redd was right about one thing. Gerwald was not afraid often. Fear was a mind killer, and he rarely gave into it. The Lupine did not understand why so many gave in to it, or how it held its power over weaker beings. Yet, knowing what Darth Prazutis was attempting, what he intended to unleash on those which were attacking the planet, Gerwald was very afraid. He had seen what just one creature was capable of. A tear in the veil had allowed things which should not have been. Eyes watched as the rift opened. The only thing which managed to tear his focus away from the sight were the words which filled his mind.​

​

Redd was speaking to her thoughts to him, through their link, their bond.​

​

<<"The NIO doesn't matter, not if Prazutis succeeds in releasing that demon.">>​

​

In an instant Gerwald filled his sister's mind with the images and memories of Naalol. She would see the choice he had been forced to make, one he had yet to share with her. Even now as the ring which had refused to break hung from his neck, Redd would know Gerwald had been willing to sacrifice the one he loved for the sake of saving lives and keeping the demon at bay. She would see his failure, his sorrow, and feel his guilt as lives had been lost. All of it rest on his shoulders. The pain and burden he still carried from that mission weighed heavily on him. How Gerwald pushed forward, even he did not know. Such a burden had crushed stronger men than he, and yet Gerwald stood.​

​

All of it was cursory. It was the backdrop for the truth. Redd would see the destruction the Nocna Mora had caused. She would hear its voice as the words it spewed from its maw taunted the Lupine. Redd would feel the darkness which it fed off of. She would know the evil it was, and the death it would bring.​

​

Most importantly, Redd would know it did not discriminate.​

​

<<"The Mountain is arrogant enough to think he can control it. He is mistaken. The beast will turn on him just the same as it does not know friend or foe. It knows only hunger. And it will feed.>>​

​

He glanced to his sister, his words aloud this time as his eyes fell to her midsection. Gerwald knew. Had he not before, he could feel the small lives now.​

​

"Your duty is to those pups, your loyalty is to them. If ever you must choose their safety over mine, you will choose theirs."​

​

Lavria Xedrim would be the next to speak. Her hatred for Prazutis, and the Sith in general, was loud and plain. She did not hide her feelings, the disdain or the disgust which coursed out of her toward the other dark side users. He grinned at her words.​

​

"In due time. One day he will enter my circle, his power will not outmatch mine. Now... it is more important that we stop him from releasing the Nocna Mora. No matter the cost."​

​

She too would be given the same images, the same memories Gerwald had experienced. The wolf expected that she would understand why it was imperative the stopped the demon. If it meant killing Prazutis, Gerwald was prepared to do it. He would risk the entire defense pact on this one action.​

​

Why?​

​

He knew what the Nocna Mora would do. Lives were at stake, an entire world. He would stand whatever consequences came his way, and he would face the Vicelord himself if he had to. One thing was certain. The Nocna Mora would not be freed.​

​

Once he was certain the women with him understood what was at stake he began to move toward Prazutis once more. This time his voice rang out to the one who had once left him for dead.​

​

"I know what you are trying to do, Prazutis. I cannot let you do this!! You would risk the lives of your followers, the innocents on this planet to do what? Is retaining one planet worth the lives this thing will devour? This is foolishness... it is either an act of pure madness, or insanity. You cannot unleash this evil upon this planet!"​

​

Gerwald looked the Mountain in the eyes.​

​

You MUST not!​

 

[Daedalos Solidor]

O B J E C T I V E | Garaug.
G E A R | Armor, necklace,
pistols, lightsaber.
T A G S | Lavria Xedrim
T H E M E | Here.
V O I C E | Here.​

This place sucked. All he could see as far as those two gorgeous sapphire blue eyes of his could catch was grass, like an endless sea of green, tedious, and the perfect place for banthas to graze until they died. He heard the others talking on the gunship of beautiful rivers, and he actually saw a few lakes, but one thing was certain for Daedalos Solidor: he had no love for the country. Wasn’t the bugs, nor the food, neither was the smell of manure or the slow grunts of the natives, it was just not his thing, not like his sisters, those two crazy bugsluts, both of them liked gardens, gazebos and whatever green stuff nature had to offer. He wasn’t made for this, his shoes were too expensive for stepping on mud, they were made for fancy casinos, nightclubs, and bars, for the gods said to take care of yourself, to be happy, to find pleasure in this life, not hopping on bantha’s fezes.​

His life wasn’t turning as he expected, Daedalos joined the imperials hoping to do some meaningful stuff, like saving planets, fighting Sith lords, spreading the New Order, whatever that was, but things were odd, to say the least. His sister was weirder than a rancor in a dress, besides not joining the imperials on their assemblies, she wasn’t up for fighting, avoided him as much as she could, and when they met for dinning she was smiling, being very polite and even tender to him, which creeped the frell out of him, even Leliana found that odd, and went on to investigate, leaving him alone for this assignment. Oddly, he would give the jewel of Harkaan itself for having some company such as Mesosog to do this, but the lizard was holding back something, both he and Lunafreya thought they could keep this up forever, but he would find out the truth behind all this ktah.​

All around him, Fredo could feel Atar screaming. The Cosmos seemed dark, damp, and cold, he could feel all sorts of negative emotions running through the grass in this planet, almost as if Dantooine itself became the dark heart of this galaxy, evil deeds were going to take place today, he was certain of that. Worse of all, his heart was in turmoil, all this energy was unbalancing him, making him edgy, irritated, anxious. “Seven Hells... when was the last time I felt this way?”, he couldn’t say, not even on Bastion did he felt that way, such thoughts and feelings never stuck for too long in his mind, his master used to say that he was like the wind; uncertain, free, light. He wasn’t entirely sure about being ‘light’, nor if that was a compliment.​

“Captain, possible enemy signal up ahead!”, the lieutenant shouted behind him, and Fredo could hear the reptile captain growling beneath his helmet, his breath was too heavy for his taste.​

“How many troops?”, the lizard asked without showing much emotion.​

“They were two, but one is leaving, going west down the Sith’s hole.”​

“Sith Lords?”, he asked.​

“Possibly.”​

“Already? Myra’s Tentacles...”, the captain said out loud and Fredo almost could hear Leliana screaming in his ears to take this chance and get the hell out of, well, hell.​

“Captain... May I offer a suggestion?”, he promptly asked turning to face the armored male, that stood still in silence waiting for him to speak. He didn’t like Daedalos, he didn’t say anything about it, nor was he rude, but Fredo could tell. “What if... your squadron follows the second signal and grants me this chance to taking care of this one? I’m sure I can deal with it if it’s a Sith, if not, well, I will find you, boys, in no time.” He took some time to give him any answer, enough for Fredo to expect him to reject his offer.​

“All right, prince Daedalos. Do as you wish.” He didn’t give a second to think this through, Daedalos immediately started to walk faster towards the signal, and when he was far enough from them, he could have sworn that his pointed big ears heard the captain grumbling behind his back. “Coward.”

Still, he kept walking, faster at first, but when he was getting closer, Fredo slowed down a notch or two, sliding his hand towards his pistols, drawing both of them, and raising them high in his head. He gave a little kiss on each of its handles, and sighed deeply, calming himself and muttering in an almost deranged tone of voice.

"By the Original Light, Fredo, keep it together. It's probably just another dumb civvie that forgot to go home thinking he would see some fireworks, if not, just deal with it. What is the worst thing it could happen, am I right? You are Daedalos Manfredo van Solidor, what is the thing Luna used to say?", he took the gun to his head and scratched it using the pistol. "Yours is the blood of kings, yours is the will of Destiny, you are a prince of the Star Children, you are immortal, so I can do this, I'm a tough elz, I will just get over there and blast it to its final jump!"

He bent his knees forward and jumped, a single huge leap down the street by using what the others called the Force. Falling upright, swinging his entire body towards the direction of the signal and pointing both guns towards the enemy, shouting with all the strength of his lungs.
"Hold still, Sith kung, or I will blast you all the way to hel...", the words stuck in his mouth as soon as the two eyes in his head caught the image of the zabrak female standing there where his villain should be, he froze on sight, and for a mere moment, he wasn’t entirely sure if he shot her or tried inviting her for a drink.

 

[Aiden Wolf]

Location: In the city moving towards the ritual
Equipment: Body/Suit/Sword, M-107 Anti-Material Rifle, M-18 Pit Viper, SYC Grenades, Ion Grenades, Flashbangs, DEX Satchel charges, EBFAK
Tags: Darth Prazutis Aurelion Nova Gerwald Lechner Lavria Xedrim Redd Open
Objective: Locate Darth Prazutis, save lives
​

Aiden watched the trio down below when he heard wing beats coming from overhead. The cyborg would raise his head from the scope and look around. What was that? A large dragon looking creature swooping down as he took a slight step back from the window to get some more concealment. When it landed, Aiden would watch the thing as it looked towards Prazutis, and then the smaller figure down below. That was something Aiden had definitely not accounted for. This thing was massive, and judging from the size it was no slouch in combat. He could only wager a guess at its abilities and made a mental to try and do some research on it. That would be something that could make future interactions quite complicated. He would continue watching though from his vantage as the smaller figure would wander off, and the dragon looking thing essentially following him. He made a mental note to gather more intel on who that might be, or if he was just going to have note that might be a variable. But what held his attention next, was when Darth Prazutis began to have a much larger impact on the wall before him. Heat waves coming from it, fire, even more discharges on the electromagnetic spectrum that he could see through his sensor suite on his helmet. This was it. It had to be. His grip would tighten on his rifle as he watched the ritual happen. He had to get whatever he could from this encounter while he could. Because he knew at any moment this could all be over. And he had to find out exactly how much control this being had over them. Because if he knew how to control them, then he definitely would know how to kill them. He would watch from his vantage point as this thing was being summoned.

And then he saw Mr. Lechner bolt towards the Darth.

He could tell from his posture that he wasn't exactly happy about what was happening either. That stupid old man was going to ruin everything. Aiden grit his teeth as he moved the rifle between the two. He couldn't let him intervene and stop the ritual, but if he did something to stop him that would definitely be revealing his position. And more importantly taking away his element of surprise. This was a really serious problem, and to top it all off.

Aiden didn't want to kill him. He didn't want to simply put a bullet in him and be done with it. More importantly he didn't want to have to kill any of them. This however might force him to. He weighed his options. If he sat there and did nothing, Gerwald would taint his information. He'd probably get hurt in the process, maybe even killed, and Aiden didn't exactly want that either.

Blast it all.

If Gerwald held this course of action he'd leave him no choice. He would have to stop this idiot from getting himself possibly killed. If that meant he had to break his legs and sedate him then so be it, he'd recover from that. Death wasn't something one simply walked off. And if this fool wasn't going to stop himself he'd have to be stopped. Aiden prepared his approach, looking for a quick descent and then approach of where he was. He'd need to be as fast as possible for this intercept to try and keep himself out of the Darth's sight. He waited for the Lupine to try and stop, and then hesitated before putting his rifle away. He wasn't going to. Then it was done. Aiden would step forward towards the window, vaulting over the edge and using his claws to slow himself down as he fell down the side of the building.

He would release himself at ten meters above the ground, somersaulting as he hit the ground to push forward and begin running. His cybernetic legs would spring him forward as he ran as fast as he could towards Gerwald and now Prazutis. He didn't have a choice now. He would have to reveal himself to the Darth to stop Gerwald from getting himself killed. As he ran he did a mental check over his weapons, his sword, dagger, and pistol especially. In the next however long this would take, it would be these that he relied on. When he finally got within earshot he did a small jump to the top of a speeder before leaping across a gap to land opposite of Gerwald Lechner and Darth Prazutis . His voice would be carried over the short distance separating them now with speakers as he addressed the Lord Marshal.

"GERWALD! You stupid old man, you just couldn't stay away could you? You want to die so badly you'd fight him again!?!? Think for a blasted singular minute! If I'd have known you'd be this foolish I'd have broken your legs on Stewjon so you wouldn't get in the way. I have to know, and I refuse to let someone get in the way because they are afraid of what it will cost them. Either stand down or I will make you," The cyborg didn't bother hiding his intentions behind a veil. They were out with the first, second, third, even fourth plans. Aiden was officially flying by the seat of his pants now, and knew that he was in extremely dangerous territory. But he couldn't back down, not when his objective was so close.

 

[Syd Celsius]

Syd slashed and butchered through the NIO, breathing fire on some right from her mouth, forcing the flames down their throat and burning them from the inside out, cremating some on the spot, doing everything she could to prevent the forces of Enlil , Ryv , Shaka Sunstar, Rurik Fel , and others. But another, and quite powerful sensitive started smothering her flames.

It shamed her beyond words what she was doing. All that work of trying to redeem herself, and it was for nothing.

It was made worse when, in the distance she saw Starlin Rand do something he hadn't intended, and killed a Jedi. In that instant, Syd's heart broke.

The failure wasn't his. It was hers. She felt deep conflict as he tried to fight Cotan Sar'andor and argue at the same time, only absentmindedly beheading two imperial Knights and killing seven more soldiers with gouts of flame.

What did you expect? the dead Darth Phyre within sneered. That you could have your cake and eat it too?

Syd clamped down on the shreds of the Sith inside her, barely avoiding a panicked filled breakdown. She had meant to train a good Jedi, one who would avoid the mistakes she had made. One who could take the good parts of her knowledge and do more good with it than she could ever hope to. And now he had his first dead Padawan.

Not just his...it was her dead Padawan also. It wasn't his fault. He may have made the choice to be here...but that was only because she believed in the greater good of fighting the Bryn'adul.

As she sent more flames from her throat into NIO soldiers, burning vast swaths of them alive, she saw a powerful Jedi dampening and smothering the flames she sent out.

One, Creuat charged the hole that Enlil had made. Syd held out her hand.

"Ashla, send a flock to harrass my foes."

Fiery purple bird constructs leapt out of her hand toward him. They wouldn't be able to hurt him directly, but they could try and harrass and distract him, fly around and obscure his vision. This would, of course, leave him possibly open for an attack elsewhere...

The Powerful Jedi that was trying to stop her beautiful Laertia, a Jedi named T The End Narrator , stepped forward, trying to reason with Laertia

Syd looked at her with a sad expression, not just for what her student, who was the closest she had ever really had to a son had done just by believing in her cause, but for what she had to continue doing to achieve victory.

"I'm sorry..." she said to the woman with a miserable expression, even though Aaralyn's pleas were not directed at her, mourning her failures this day...

"But no one here today is getting what they want that easily..."

Syd's flesh shuddered horrifically as she opened her mouth, green lightning fueled by the Light Side racing out of her throat as a set of narrow streams to stun her enough for a follow up attack, trying to keep Aaralyn from interfering...

Meanwhile, the butchery Laertia Io inflicted, going through NIO lethally by punching heads apart or bisecting them, and doing her absolute best to go as less lethal on any Jedi in her way as possible, resorting to the more surefire solution of arms and legs getting removed where Jedi were concerned, having shut out the pain of what she was doing, going to a cold place so she could function without guilt as she cut her way closer and closer and closer to the ones trying to lead these revenge addled fools to victory...

Darth Carnifex

Darth Prazutis

Thurion Heavenshield

Other Space Kaiden

 

[Starlin Rand]

​

Location: The Enclave archives
Objective: Get curbstomped
Gear: Starlin Rand's lightsaber | Mt. Muspelheim Shoto | Upgraded Fenelar Armor
Writing With: Cotan Sar'andor

Starlin folded like a cheap lawn chair at Cotan’s telekinetic punch to the gut. He fell on the ground, eating dirt, then struggled to get up, groaning and spitting out dust.

“Oh, so we’re gonna do a Force fight?” he sputtered. “Like Yoda versus Dooku?” He coughed, then spat again, finally on his own two feet again.

He really should’ve used Force Resistance, an ability which he had been taught, but for some reason hadn’t thought to use in time. Damned quick time events...

As he continued to feel the dirt in his mouth, he was struck by an idea. Potentially a very bad one, given that he was fighting a Master, but certainly unique enough that it would at least be bad with style. Reaching down, he took a handful of dust, threw it in the air, and then held the grains of sand in the air as he swung his blade at them. The sand turned into glass upon contact with the hot plasma, which Starlin then flung at Cotan in a broad scattering of jagged shards.

 

[Ryv]

S W O R D _ O F _ T H E _ J E D I
GALACTIC ALLIANCE
NEW JEDI ORDER
JEDI-IMPERIAL JOINT STRIKE TEAM
ARMOR | LIGHTSABER

I AM FUELED BY ALL FORMS OF FAILURE
​

Beads of sweat built up on Ryv's brow, and the back of his neck as Enlil's great inferno increased in size overtop their position. Its orange glow engulfed them all as waves of heat rolled forward, not unlike a chaotic sea. The power pulsed and shifted as the caster imparted his will on the flame and further molded it. Being so close was far from comfortable. Ryv could feel a layer of sweat form across his body in answer to the scorcher above. Part of him wanted to complain, maybe question the King on why exactly it took so long. Such complaints died long before they could take shape on his lips.

He felt his attention drawn overhead as Enlil's fireball floated towards the Sith Enclave. From behind their wall, the King did not bow. The Knights upon the board, Jedi and Imperial like, did not even consider failure. The golden-haired monarch exuded an infectious sense of purpose. Ryv found that surge of confidence only heighten as the superheated flame erupted and bathed the Sith's loyalists in a hellish rain. Some dropped in an attempt to fight the fires, while others panicked and screamed for an end. The luckiest of them died outright.

In the King's purifying flame, Ryv bore witness to merciful absolution. An end these heretics didn't deserve.

"We bleed together!"

Ryv dropped his segment of the barrier and stepped forward.

"And should we die, know that we die together! Forward Jedi, Knights- restore Order!"

"There is no better end," Ryv declared. He lifted his saber and crashed into a wave of red armored soldiers. His verdant blade lashed out indiscriminately, it's master unafraid of harming his allies while surrounded by the enemy. One stumbled back as the Sword practically appeared before him, nothing more than a blur. Ryv fell upon him without mercy. His blade sliced through the stranger's neck in one horizontal swipe that saw a second forced to backpedal out of the Jedi's reach.

As more Jedi advanced, the legionnaires found themselves broken up into smaller segments. The line fell away to isolated bubbles of defenders as more and more Jedi pierced the defensive line. If not for the sudden turn of flame that now fell over them, they may have broken into the Enclave right there and then. But that would've been too easy.

"Fall back! Don't let that fire touch you!" Ryv shouted to the others. He watched the very same fire that blasted them an opening turn back onto his men. Jedi and Imperial Knights alike fell beneath the flames as another pyromancer appeared. He dropped back and threw his hands forward. He wasn't much for crazy force powers, but he knew the basics well enough. As his fingers splayed out towards the Sith Enclave, telekinetic energy pulsed forward. It batted away flames and battled the Witch as she tried to cook his men alive. Somewhere nearby, a familiar form raced elsewhere. Death and ruin followed close behind her, devastation unmatched thus far performed by a Jedi Ryv only briefly encountered weeks prior.

"You know what?" Ryv pivoted. "You wanna go, queen? Let's go then."

Ryv turned to Enlil and shouted to get his attention. "We need to tame these flames so our men can push forward! I'm moving to engage one of the Concord's dogs. Loske! Maynard! Push that breach and get us inside, would ye? I'll be right behind you."

He broke into a jog as he followed Laertia's Force signature. He could see the dark-skinned woman as she threw her fist forward and caved an Imperial's chest inward, armor, and all. His eyes bugged up in shock at the almost comical display. Still, he pressed forward. He lifted his saber and denied a Sith-Imperial's bolt with an arching swipe that sent it screeching back into their faceplate. Ryv's eyes remained locked on the Marksmen as her saber sheared through Jedi. His Jedi! Their hands thumped into the dirt as they collapsed in her passing. Behind the Compact's attack dog, Sith soldiers lowered their blasters and executed who she left alive, their maimed, broken bodies unable to stop the inevitable.

"You made a mistake looking for this fight!" Ryv roared as another Jedi's light blinked out, their flame snuffed by loyalists. "What?! You think you're some kinda hero cause you follow your government so blindly! Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

He lifted his lightsaber and charged towards Laertia. He readied himself for their clash, hands tightening around Resolve's shining hilt. Though he hadn't expected this turn of events, he would not back down. If a Jedi would strike his family, then he would strike back. Only, he'd hit twice as hard. The Force coalesced around him as he covered the distance between them, his strength and speed far higher than what his body could produce naturally. Resolve roared in Ryv's mind, the two in sync as he raised his weapon overhead and prepared to strike her down.

Aaralyn's sudden arrival threw a wrench in that plan.

He pressed both feet into the dirt and slid a dozen feet before finally stopping. The lightsaber turned within his hand as he slowly rolled it over. His gaze jumped to Aaralyn briefly, only to fall on Laertia beyond her.

"This is what your Compact calls for!" Ryv growled. "Look behind you, dog. See what your masters have done now that they've tricked you into believing you've shaken free of your leash. Jedi lay dead! Dead at the hands of the very Sith you protect. You considered your maiming mercy, yet you failed to consider your surroundings."

Ryv spit at her feet.

"I cannot expect those indoctrinated by cowards and traitors to think beyond their next step. Lay down your weapon, and you will be tried for your treachery. If you refuse, you forfeit your life and will know justice here and now."

ALLIES | NIO | NJO Enlil | Loske Treicolt | Maynard Treicolt | Zaavik Perl | T The End Narrator (?)
ENEMIES | TSE | ELDER COMPACT | Syd Celsius

 

[Enlil]

A_R_B_I_T_E_R

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER

NEW JEDI ORDER

JEDI IMPERIAL STRIKE TEAM

The King watched as Brother pitted themselves against Brother. This lesser creature dared to twist holy flames into perversions that impeded justice. His features twisted to show visible disdain as the others scrambled to avoid lethal, spiraling energies. In that moment, he took action.

"These men and women are under my protection," he proclaimed as the draconic woman belched flame and spewed it toward Jedi and Imperial Knight alike. With a snap of his fingers, the heat dispersed, countermanded by the will of the King. "Where you are their sword, I promise you, I will be the light that guides them safely toward fate. I leave this to you, Knight Ryv."

Enlil turned his hand slowly over and the flickering sparks writhed, twisted, and fell to the dirt. Ashes mixed mingled with dirt and dust, but a memory of flame.

Transluscent energies swarmed and converged behind the Sword of the Jedi, creating an invisible, impregnable wall that would safeguard the rest of them while they made their way into the Temple. Whatever happened within, they would be the architects of their own destiny.

Enlil spared one last glance toward Ryv, a bittersweet smile on his face. He knew whatever future this man faced, he would face it with conviction. That absolved any misgivings that he had about leaving him there.

"May the Force be with you," he said the foreign words of the Jedi to speed the man on his way in good faith.

That was when he felt the invitation manifest. Unseen eyes rippled over him and molested his form. The King turned his gaze skyward, toward the clouds stained black and red. Fire and smoke from the downed fighters now loomed over the battlefield, a haunting backdrop to the carnage unfolding.

I feel you there, creature of the dark. I will not make you wait long.

Imperial Knights flooded into the breached Temple ahead of them, ready to secure the position and push the enemy back so that the Jedi could gain ground. Enlil held his barrier for the other members of the Strike team, waiting for them to filter into the building. He would do so right behind them.

Heading toward: Lark
Covering Advance: Loske Treicolt , Maynard Treicolt , Zaavik Perl
Disengaging: Syd Celsius , Ryv , T The End Narrator​

 

[Redd]

LOCATION: Garang City
GEAR: Beskar’gam | KO Lightsaber
ALLIES: Gerwald Lechner | Lavria Xedrim | Darth Prazutis | Aiden Wolf | Ulrich | Aurelion Nova
ENEMIES: NIO

While Redd waited for a response, her gaze shifted to the other female present and her lips turned downwards as she listened to the over eagerness of the other female’s voice. She refrained from growling at her and turned her golden gaze away from the female almost in disgust. Redd was eager, but she also knew of the values of patience. There was a time and place for killing certain people, yet the red wolf did not think that now was the time to openly express such an opinion. A true hunter knew when to strike and when to hold back. A true hunter also knew when their prey was not yet within their reach. The thing was, Redd just didn’t know who their prey was and she felt a slight irritation by the fact that the true purpose had been withheld.

A low growl rumbled from the wolf as both of her hands gripped the buy’ce of her Beskar’gam and slowly slid it over her head so then her red locks would be hidden from those around her. Her HUD flashed on and she glanced over towards the dragon just as she made note of a familiar scent. A boy of whom she still didn’t know if she regretted helping or not. Survival of the fittest, she had thought at the time and wondered if she should have left the boy to die or not. Redd even watched as the boy seemed to address a dragon and withdrew from the area. To the wolf, it seemed as if he was abandoning those he had considered friendly and leaving the Mountain to others whose stance that even she wasn’t quite aware of herself.

That boy is a coward, thought the wolf just as her brother’s voice seemed to project into her mind.

His words seemed to carry the fear that she could smell and just as she was about to say something, Gerwald filled her mind with memories. Memories that were not her own and she closed her eyes for the briefest of moments. She knew of Gerwald’s long lost love, of Sergei and even of a fox that Redd didn’t know. Other people seemed to occupy Gerwald’s time and it seemed as if her brother just didn’t have time for the woman who was more beast than human. He only seemed to call upon her when he needed her and so she in turn tried not to call upon him unless she had to. For she found it hard to ask for help. A trait that could be attributed to the fact that she herself was used to working out things on her own. That she had never in her life asked for help, but rather learned through the many fights that had born the beast that was known as Redd.

Gerwald had always seemed powered by revenge or by the pain of his lost love and instead of saying anything, she simply listened. She could have said a great deal and yet, when he spoke to her of her pups, the woman growled again. Anger flared as did her nostrils and she very much wanted to show her brother that she was more than he thought she was. That she was strong. She just didn’t have the right foothold when it came to the human world, for her wolf was her strength and she drew upon that strength when Gerwald addressed Praz.

Another man had different ideas and seemed to step in between Gerwald and that of the Mountain. Such an interruption was not ideal. There were too many people. Too many individual goals that were splitting and soon they would all be buried under the weight of such individualistic thinking. There had to be only one goal, otherwise if the beast that would step through the rift now were to make it through, then everyone would pay the price for such emotional turmoil. Even the wolf knew that emotions were not to be felt upon a battlefield and she let rip a snarl. ”Brother enough! Your grief taints your thinking,” She said as she shifted slightly and lifted her left hand up as if to halt the man who stood between the Mountain and that of Gerwald. However, the dark energies that she had been channeling seemed to give rise to the fact that she didn’t want another person interfering in matters that was not his own and the force gave way to that will unknowingly as a force push was aimed towards that of Aiden Wolf .

Her golden gaze, on the other hand, was directed towards her lupine brother. ”I know what you’re going through Gerwald and interfering now when the rift is already open seems far more dangerous. You taught me beast language, a language that basically forces the will of a force user upon that of a beast. Who is to say that this Prazutis cannot handle a beast such as this demon? What if you break his connection to that of this demon and it only does more harm than good? You cannot let your grief grip you like this in the middle of a war, for there can be no room for doubt and fear brother.” She growled as her fingers curled and then dropped to her sides. Even a dark wolf had to be smart and think about all of the angles before making a critical decision, as she could feel the darkness that seemed to radiate from the rift that had been opened. A darkness that seemed to sing to the blood within her veins. Blood that had been spilled many times before during combat.​

 

[Daros Karmann]

// BLACKJACK THREE // SPECIAL AGENT/MASTER SGT Daros Karmann
// OBJECTIVE // ASSAULT ON GARANG CITY // SPEARHEAD
// FOCUS // Lyra, Tavius Muuaji , Vostok Grauv, Sturit Goan , Hayek, Sinestra , Meko Sorrin, Lucien Dooku, Dhuzgnar, DT-2319, DT-7343, Gedeon Rath, Rexus Wenck // NIO GROUNDPOUNDERS // SITH OPPRESSORS // Sanguine Nocturnal
// EQUIPMENT // Storm Armor MKIV, REC-CBS/01 'Doombringer' Pattern Combat Scattergun, REC-DC/04 "Feverwasp" Pattern Particle Blaster Pistol, Sonic Concussion Grenades, Ion Grenades, KXA ABDG-01x 'Null' Grenades, IL-62G Smart Grenades, STRND series 'Oscillation Point' Hunter-Seeker Utility Droid, Revealer, REC-ACS/01 “Batillum” - Pattern Entrenching Tool
// BATTALION // 8TH MECHANIZED BATTALION “FERAL BATTALION” // x1 Command Unit, x5 Armor Companies, ~56 TXV XT-60b Cataphract-class Repulsor Main Battle Tanks, ~14 All-Terrain Armoured Shield Generators, Miscellaneous Support Vehicles // SAPPER SUPPORT COMPANY 'BLACKJACK' // Daros Karmann , TXT XV-60a Armored Personnel Carriers, Engineers //
// THEMES // AUGUST; INTELLIGENCY// Ya Soldat; 5'nizza // Do the Evolution; Black Pearl Jam//

It was strange to Daros that something so familiar felt so distant to him. Even after all his time working under COMPNOR's shadow, he never once worked as part of an actual combat unit, if you discounted the non-existence of TF-66. There was something to be said about being able to rely on the person right next to you that he found oddly artificial- perhaps he had been away for far too long doing what he did best, with people he trusted; he could count them all on one hand, and the rest were buried under 6 feet of soil.

If they were given the decency to by the Sith, that was. When he first heard who they were going to be deployed, his stumps felt cold and hot- he could feel the coursing of blood through his ghostly legs, yet the cold steel of prosthetic reality only tore apart that delusion. There wasn't much to say at that point- they took his legs with dirty tricks, taught him that no one was going to play by the book. He took that lesson, and had been applying it for as long as he could remember.

They would look at him, several years from his eventual, imminent death, and the people who would see his name would point at his long list of deeds- some too horrid to describe in polite society. They would point and whisper about his name like the boogeyman in a child's fables, tut about the ignominy of his actions and degrade him for his actions. And from the uncertain veil of death, all Daros could say to them, in a small addendum beneath his stories, was that he learned everything he did from the Sith.

The vehicle bumped as it passed through a crater. He thumped the roof of the APC twice. "Watch the holes." he chastised the driver by radio. The reply was an angry statement about Daros' mother and an impossibly large cucumber, followed with a suggestion as to what she could do with it.

Still, at least there wasn't any more bumps along the debris-laced holes. Each time they approached a suspiciously looking pile of debris, Daros' stomach leaped into his mouth. He wasn't the only one- the whole roof of Hitman Three was packed with his fellow white-armoured Imperials. Sappers and engineers who had seen what an IED could do to trapped infantry within an APC lauded to be 'blast resistant'. Everyone knew 'blast resistant' just meant the vehicle itself could be scrapped and recycled for dishware. It was the fear of being stuck inside a burning wreck, surrounded by death and fire, unable to do anything about it, that brought them up on top of their vehicle. Even after all that, there simply wasn't enough space to fit the thirty sappers of 2nd platoon's Hotel squad. 15 troopers drew the short straw and were packed into the vehicle, cursing their luck, and Daros, by sheer authority of being a senior military detachment, didn't have to participate with the rock-paper-scissors game the unit played. He claimed his seat on top of Hitman Three, and there was nothing the squad could do. Field command would have a stroke, watching all 6 TXTs of 8th Battalion's support company, trudge through Garang City with half their passengers on the roofs of their vehicles.

But there wasn't any time for that. Hitman Convoy of 8th Battalion's 'Blackjack' did as it pleased, because it knew how to stay alive in these trying times. Daros had to make a noise of disgust, hearing the Imperial BattleNet as thousands of troopers report encountering armed civilian militias throughout the city. Many of the men in the 8th were professionals- they didn't sign up to kill civies. Most of them had civilian lives.

Daros kept silent as the squad chattered amongst themselves quietly, discussing the events of the day. Most concerned what they were going to do if they got shot, or died. Many of them laughed it off- black comedy was an armed force's trademark show of hiding one's nerves. One of the men even talked about how it must feel to be inside the transports with an air of smug satisfaction- the irritated-yet-light hearted reply from one of the vehicle's internal passengers told him to shut up, and the whole unit laughed. Even Daros chuckled by himself.

It felt good. Even if they were rolling down the highway and into the jaws of death. Mortality- what a joke!

A joke clarified as the convoy stopped. They didn't have to wait long to find out what was the hold up- it came like a slow, rolling thunder that erupted into a terrifying roar of superheated plasma that destroyed whatever was in front of the column. Captain Theron, Blacjack Actual, didn't even need to give the order for the troops to dismount. For the briefest of dull moments, the battalion stopped. Then one horrible blast, and they were moving like clockwork.

They passed by the wreckage of the tank, their thick-barreled APCs brushing aside the wreckage and debris. "See that?" one of the troopers pointed out.

One of the more burlier looking soldiers nodded nonchalantly at the question. "Yeah, shoddy pile of junk. What about it?"

"You think that's what we're gonna look like? Y'know, if we get it?"

There was a pregnant silent before he replied, not after an exasperated sigh that sounded like a scattergun blast. Whoever was asking the question only made a noncommittal noise in response. Only after they had passed by a junction did the reply come out. "I don't know- maybe if we get hit by some real heavy firepower, bombers or even collapse under the sheer gravitational weight of the stupidity of your question."

"I'm going to ignore that. You're lucky I'm so nice, lancecorporal. If it were Gunny, you'd be on the ground licking up our fume trails all week." Cheerful laughter erupted from the back. With the wind rushing past them, Daros couldn't help but feel like he was on a road trip with a group of rambunctious college mates. All that was missing was a bucket of chilled beer bottles by his side.

Instead, there was only the staccato of rapid blaster fire, and the odd dull thumps of a heavier cannon firing in response for music. There wasn't any chilled beer, only slightly salty mineral water from his canteen, and there weren't any bikini'd chicks- only gruff and tough female chicks who'd kill before letting any one of them see them sporting a bikini.

"Hey, can you two quiet it down?"

"Aw, what's the matter private, scared?"

"Momma's little boy gonna wet his pants?"

"Just shut up! Shut up about it, okay!? I ain't in no rush to die 'cus of you two chuckfekks. "

"Now come on private, what's the matter? Thought you liked family trips."

Daros peeked over his shoulder and leaned back to eavesdrop on the conversation behind him. He took of his helmet and rested it on his lap for a quick cigarette break. Force save him if there was a sniper, but he desperately wanted nicotine in his system.

"I'm just saying, we're rolling down death's highway in an armoured convoy loud enough to wake the devil through a city block. I- I mean it's a death trap! Any one of these buildings could be hiding a fekkin' farming yokel with an RPG or a sniper, and that guy over there's not even wearing his helmet in a combat zone!" He turned his head around to see a lanky trooper pointing an accusatory finger at him, as if Daros had committed a grievous crime against him and his clan.

"Hey, watch it." Karmann growled back threateningly. The trooper didn't reply back, and continued on with his rant. In any other situation, it was like watching a very small, neurotic dog bark at a piece of newspaper. "It's like I'm the only one who's actually worried that something's gonna happen to us, and the two of you brickheads aren't even taking this seriously."

"Easy on the pipe there, bud. Geez, now look what you just did. Went on an' killed the mood for everyone."

There was a murmured chorus of vocal disagreement that rippled through the squad- someone even piped up from the radio. "Yeah Golan, nice going, idiot!"

"C'mere- no I'm not gonna bite you. Listen man, we get it; it's your first time outside of the wire and you're nervous. We get it, we've all been through that. But you can't let this kinda thing get to you man- this stuff affects the whole squad. It's gonna haunt your life. So chill, relax. If you die, the state pays for your funeral." The NCO ended his pep talk with a hard thump on Golan's back, who winced and nearly slid off the roof of the APC.

"Gee, thanks Corporal." he replied, sarcastically.

"Just doing my job, private. You can thank me later."

"Hah. Yeah, if we make it, I'll suck your-"

Just then, an explosion rumbled as a rocket splashed across the convoy's dome shield. Chatter turned urgent across the BattleNet, and Daros heard the unit's commander order the tanks to mark them. As he dropped his half-finished cigarette onto the street and put on his helmet, he saw the multiple convergent hostile markers on their local map.

There were quite a few, but he watched as the blips spread back out, as if fearing retaliation. That meant professional troops, not armed militia looking for a fight and not fearing death.

Then again, that also just described everyone fighting for the Sith Empire. He frowned- guess the road trip dream was coming to an end now.

"Look what happened 'cusa you."

"Nice going Golan."

"Oh come on that wasn't me!"

"Alright, don't pick on the little guy now. It stopped being funny a while back-"

"Hey who the hell you calling little- brother, I am average for my-"

Daros tuned out the argument going on and opened up a private channel to the 8th Battalion's commander, Lt Colonel Sturit Goan . Trying his best to ignore the fact that one of the sappers behind him may or may not be trying to kill another man behind him, he spoke up on their private channel.

"Feral-Actual, this is Blackjack Three; mind telling me where we're heade-" A boot kicked the back of Daros' helmet. He paused to turn around and bark out a few choice insults that only made the rowdy troops laugh even harder. Shaking his head in irritation, he returned back to the channel.

"And what's the ETA of our arrival?"

 

[Runi Verin]

LOCATION: SAFE HOUSE NEAR THE SITH ENCLAVE
OBJECTIVE: STEAL SOME DUDE’S OSIK SURVIVE
GEAR: Vornskr Mk8 Scattergun, Tal Oya’karir, Muun'bajir, Terentatek Duster, Asheran Armorweave, Taak’tabi, Nwûl
ALLIES: Amea Virou
ENEMIES: AMCO | TSE
FOLKS MESSING UP A PERFECTLY GOOD HEIST: NIO | GA | ETC

“I guess that ends the introductions.” Runi remarked with an unusual amount of glibness as Amea snapped off a shot, surprise registering on her face even with the force bond between the pair. And here she was normally the shoot first, talk later type. Amea had definitely changed, although the jury was still out on if it was for the better or not.

She supposed she'd best keep her alive until then.

She shoved Amea with her elbow before diving in the opposite direction, shoulder tucking as she rolled and came up unslinging her vornsk. The upside of having a cybernetic arm was that it certainly easier to fire a scattergun one handed. She leveled it at Adrian as she rose, letting fly a blast before attempting to move again, wary of remaining stationary while racking the slide lest the ghosts closed the distance.

Amea's slugthrower and her vornskr certainly wasn't going to cut it when it came to them.

In theory, alchemised objects should have at least some effect on the creature's incorporeal bodies, but given that her equipment was... Ah, somewhat limited in range, the Kiffar was understandably reluctant to test out theory out unless she absolutely had to. Which definitely seemed might be in the cards.

She let her oya'karir hang loosely from her index as she brought her hand up to the slide, racking another shell and sending another blast off. A second, third and fourth following in quick succession before the scattergun was abandoned completely. No point in reloading. She doubted Adrian would give her the time...

She gritted her teeth, readied her blade and moved forward. A curse rattling through her head with each and every footfall. The force rippling through her body as she prepared herself both for a beating and to (hopefully) dish one out.