Public Operation: Nightfall

[Derix Tirall]

​

As Derix Tirall's transport descended towards the surface of Onderon, the once peaceful and prosperous planet now marred by the presence of the Imperial Remnant, his thoughts drifted back to a time long past. Memories of the Final Dawn, the government he had once served, flooded his mind, juxtaposed against the current state of affairs.

He couldn't help but draw parallels between the rise of the First Order and the mistakes made by the Final Dawn. The complacency, the arrogance, the blind trust in their own power—all contributing factors to the downfall of the once mighty government. As he looked out at the planet below, now under the shadow of Imperial occupation, patriotism surged within him.

The columns of stormtroopers, the whining Tie Fighters - beautiful displays of Imperial power that Onderon had not been exposed to in nearly a millennia. The raw, unadulterated power of the Dark Side flooded the city streets, subtle yet omnipresent.

"Today will be a great day." The Regent Emeritus mused to his ever present Sovereign Protectors as the silent sentinels led the way to the War Room where he was scheduled to meet with his successor, Marlon Sularen and the enigmatic, yet intriguing Imperial Despot, Ignacious Korvan . Tirall had never met Korvan, but the stories...

In a matter of moments, the former High Regent and his entourage of Sith Sovereign Protectors arrived at the War Room. As they entered, the Sith Sovereign Protectors took up positions guarding the doors, ensuring no unauthorized entry while Tirall proceeded inside. He Sularen with a smile, and clasped the older man's shoulders.

"Happy days are here again, Marlon!"

Marlon Sularen | Ignacious Korvan | Kazian Blackwood | The Vulptex​

 

[Veylin Torque]

Objective 1
Wayward Children Privateering Company
Aboard the Dream Chaser

​

Veylin had returned to his chair at the command station on the bridge of the Dream Chaser just in time for the ship to come out of hyperspace.

Immediately, proximity alarms sounded, followed by manually-actuated alerts from the tactical officer.

"Sir!" The signals officer shouted, but Veylin cut her off, "I see it. Stars and Singularities, we jumped into quite a cluster. Can you identify these guys?"

She leaned towards her scope, deciphering the data there. "Six Triumph class Battlecruisers. Four Declaration Class Cruisers. Eight assorted Frigates, and more fighters, bombers, and interceptors than I can count. It looks like the Galactic Alliance decided to step out of their borders for this one, Captain. Should I hail them?"

"No, they might not even notice us in this soup. Don't talk to anyone unless they talk to us, first.

Keep clear of the GA, and keep clear of the Imperials, too. Wait for them to start shooting at each other. Wherever that happens, we'll go around. Once the big ships start engaging, no one's going to care about a lone corvette avoiding the battle.

...Hopefully."

He'd said just minutes ago that they needed to finish this job in the span of half-an-hour.

Some days, he thought that announcing his intentions was a good way to hear the Universe laugh.

---

Cessair Ideon
Zark San Tekka
Valut Amanya
Atin Tracinya
Race Tolsen
Jonyna Si
Akhuul Sautra
Derix Tirall
Marlon Sularen
Ignacious Korvan
Kazian Blackwood
The Vulptex

 

[Gress D'ran]

The Hellstompers
34th Walker Battalion, 1st GADF Army Divsion
Operation Sunrise
Objective: Hit back at the Imps
Engaging: Kroeger

​

The 34th had only just lost the war, but not the battle on Yavin. Normally, he'd consider that an excuse to give his men a break. Up until a couple months ago, things were quiet. He still drilled the men like a war was going on, but nothing really happened. Today, that changed. Just a day after arriving back at their home-base on Corellia, they were once again redeployed. Gress could stare out of the window of his army's deployment ship as Rocs and Skycranes hot dropped equipment down. Now it was his turn. His men loaded into the Sphinx, ready to move.

Falling from orbit in a walker was never really a pleasant experience. Especially into a warzone. He could already tell this was gonna be a chitshow as they landed, the full might of the Hellstompers ready to go, but now in the open, about 4 clicks out from their target, a supposed imperial formation that had ravaged a local village. He did a quick headcount as his comms operator went over the intel, which was sparse to begin with. They only knew rough coordinates of the formation from orbital recon.

Two Sphinx Walkers, both the size of a 10 story building. Designed to smash through any defense with extreme prejudice. Six Thundercat Walkers, designed to work in tandem. He hoped they wouldn't need yet another upgrade after this. That would be nice for once. He was sure Si Tech's head designer was gonna rip him a new one regardless. Six Wildcats alongside them, ready to make their true debut on the battlefield. Hopefully they'd make a difference. Rushing ahead along them was 5 Cougar Tanks, of which really did make a difference during the defense on Yavin. They punched holes in sith armor, now they'd be up against Imp armor. Twin Bobcats headed up the pack, and he prayed those boys would be careful. They were the nimble walkers, but that also made them the lightest armored.

In the back, Three Lynx APCs followed the formation just ahead of the Sphinxes, using the Thundercats and tanks as cover. This would be a rough battle, he knew it. 3 Cheetahs with a pair of scout snipers pushed forward, rushing a click ahead of the unit to scout. He was sure they'd be the first to find the enemy. Normally he'd have TT-48s holding up the back of the formation, but he wouldn't risk that. Any support platoons were loaded up in the Sphinxes alongside the remaining marines. He didn't trust those old airspeeders to survive this. What he did expect was the six Artillery Walkers in the back to survive, holding them at the LZ to keep them on standby. He was sure they'd get shelled, but it wouldn't matter. They were built for that.


With the scout speeders already moving out, he knew his first move. They needed more intel. The Thundercats and Arty Walkers all deployed their Ravens, the small droids quickly buzzing off in the vague direction of the enemy alongside the the speeders.

"What'dya see soldiers?" Gress asked a few minutes later, his foot incessantly tapping as he waited for something. Anything. He hated living with no knowledge of the enemy.

"I got something sir! They've got a bead on one of our other battalions coming down. Looks like they're just inside this town...I can't get a read on their armor though. Looks like they're got some sort of jammers." One of the scouts, Sergeant "Bigs" reported as he poked over a hill.

"Switch to binocular vision. They can jam your sensors all they want, can't jam yer damn eyes."

"Yessir! Relaying coordinates back. We'll have Ravens inbound for confirmation in-...Sir the town looks completely deserted outside of Imp Forces. Looks like a massacre."

That wasn't unexpected but...a tragedy. However, Gress coldly responded. He could use it to his advantage.

"Don't wait for confirmation. Coordinates received. Screaming Falcons, no civvies to worry about. Flatten 'em."

The sound of 36 turbolaser batteries shifting filled the air before...

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

A symphony of destruction. The sky rained plasma.

And with that...

The Hellstompers were on the move.

"Scouts, keep an eye out for effect. Get your snipers ready to hit any officers popping their heads up."

"Yessir!" The encrypted channel rang in chorus. Snipers set up, adaptive camo hiding their positions as they set up on hills and cliffs around the town. They'd just have to wait for the armor to arrive now...

 

[Aron Thress]

Aron Thress, Protector of Iziz
OBJ1
Location: In-Bound Shuttle to Iziz
Tags: Darth Saevius Jenn Kryze @Open any GA or Sith who want to warpost.

On a GA ship, fringes of the Onderon system.

Aron and his father spent much of the previous night together. Rann, the father he always wanted to be, and Aron, the son who always wanted a family, sat and talked for many hours. Catching up, reminiscing, planning for the future. Finally, when they did sleep, Aron couldn’t. He spent much of the night stressing about the events of tomorrow. A battle, a real battle. What was he going to do? Was he going to die? Was he going to get others killed? The fear threatened to consume him. But, as best he could, he steeled himself until morning came and he had one more conversation with his father.

”Dad…” he began, “I’m afraid. What if I mess up? What if people die because of me?” His father looked at him and offered a smile, “Trust your gut. Trust the Force.” He said, and exhaled, “People will die, son. It’s just the way it is. But…as callous as it sounds…you can’t let it affect you too much.”

Aron stared, shocked, at his father, “Can’t let it affect me? Dad what do you mean? How can I not let it affect me?” he asked, and his father smiled again a sadness in his eyes, “People…people will count on you, depend on you. If…or when…you lose someone, you have to stay strong. You have to stay focused. You can’t save them all…

Save who you can.”*

Now, Inbound shuttle to the planet below.

Aron sat, his leg restlessly tapping against the steeled floor of the shuttle, as it broke atmosphere heading down to Iziz. The soldiers around him were silent, quietly contemplating what they were walking in to, and Aron wondered if he should say something…but the words failed him.

“Uh…guys.” He said, looking around at the soldiers who now fixed their gaze on him.

“I…I couldn’t ask for better people to be with tonight. Thank you. All of you. May the Force be with us all.” He said before standing.

All of them, Aron included, had once called themselves Onderonians before leaving to join up with the GA. Now, their home was threatened, and they felt the call to return home.

Taking a leave of absence, each and every one of them came of their own accord, and each and every one of them knew what that may mean as the shuttle came to a slow and steady halt down far enough away from the walls of Iziz to avoid detection. They were here alone, and they shouldn’t expect any help from the GA.

With a shaky exhale, Aron rose to his feet and the soldiers followed. Each of them, dressed in casual Onderonian clothing, began to make their way towards the city. Their first step was getting inside the walls, and as they grew closer they each began to separate. It was easier to spot ten men than one. Each of them would have to find their own way into the city, but for Aron, that wasn’t the hard part.

As he approached the walls, dodging out of sight of sentries and alarms, he spotted a pipe that could fit someone of his smaller stature.

With a quiet sigh and a shake of his head, Aron had…unfortunately…found his way into the city.

 

[Vulpesen]

Location: Foliage around Hill 167
Tags: Anakwor Farlorn Marlon Sularen B1-173 "Omar"
Obj: 2 The Beast Wars (Prep the ambush)
Equipment: Varos Cloak, Lightsaber, 25 Daggers, 3 EMP grenades, 2 Frag Grenades, 2 Smoke Grenades, Shadow Fox Amulet, Ravenwing pack, Fennec Pistol
Troops: Trident company (approx. 110 men serving as Vulpesen's Personal Guard)

Vulpesen couldn't help but laugh as he leaned into the fur of his mount, hidden deep within the foliage surrounding the hill. "They have no idea." When he'd heard word of the trouble on Onderon, Vulpesen had left with all haste to aid the inhabitants of the planet. He'd heard of Onderon's beast tamers, and coming from a culture of tamers himself, Vulpesen had already set his plan in motion before linking up with them. All around the hill, various groups of tamers were being familiarized with a whole new ecosystem. Onderon's Drexl were terrifying creatures. But that was a single apex predator. Now, Vulpesen was looking forward to seeing the imperials, who would be looking forward to cannoks, maalraas, and drexl larvae, suddenly deal with the dangers of carmuuths, elmury, brairlix, gairthix, pythos, zipher, and more. Vulpesen, in his defense of Onderon, had unleashed the wrath of Veradune.

"Trident company!" He started, his voice moving through the comm system to address all of his men. "The Onderanians, like us Verans, come from a culture that reveres nature. The imperials think they can conquer the wilds. They think that their technology gives them the right to conquer and trample over the freedom of others. Today we remind them, what man builds in a decade, the wilds may wipe away in moments. Hold your fire until we have eyes on the last vehicle. Then start from the ends. Stop them in their tracks, then close in. Today, we win a victory for the wilds!"

The cheer was a quiet one, his men keeping to cover and hiding in the foliage with the combined forces of civilization and feral nature. But it was strong with conviction. Verans were a people who defended others with the same ferocity that they protected their own.

 

[Maestus]

Dxun
Aboard the Praedo Mundus
Valery Noble

As the monstrous cruiser barreled through the blue and white steaks of hyperspace, the ship's mistress stood staring straight ahead. Literally, she saw the flashes of light as the ship sped closer and closer to her destination. In her mind's eye, she was somewhere else. A distant time. A distant place.

Standing on the precipice of a mountain cliff, her eyes swept down the rock face opposite her. Noting with a reminder of caution the formations that jut out from the otherwise sheer surface. It was one such formation that had, ironically enough, snapped her left femur in half.

Absently, the Twi'lek's fingertips brushed the spot on her left thigh where the bone had broken. The physical pain was awesome. She'd never truly experienced physical pain on that level prior. That day had brought many firsts upon her.

The first time she'd engaged with the Dark Side in a contest of wills. Fueled by the intense physical pain she'd been in, she lashed out into the Force. The Dark Side rose to the challenge she'd issued.

She was fueled by more than mere physical pain, however. Somewhere, deep within at that time, was a feral beast she had been conditioned to repress and deny. She had longed to break the feral's chains. Nudged by the pain in her leg. Surrounded by the very fabric of the Dark Side. Under the baleful, sulphuric gaze of her Master. Locked in the battle of wills, she would not be denied that day.

She blinked her own eyes twice, bringing herself out of her moment of nostalgia. How things have progressed since that day. Now, she stood on the bridge of her flagship, The Praedo Mundus, with innumerable minions at her command. She, the Warlord of Crakull, one of her titles within the Maw. The Maw had lost the battle, but the war raged on. She turned and regarded the crew on her bridge. Her gaze swept over them all one by one. Each, in their turn, would nervously glance in her direction. It was not uncommon for those who feel the weight of her gaze to feel little else seconds later. A soft, low chorus of exhales rolled gently through the bridge as she shifted her attention to the 2 standing at attention on either side of the bridge doors. Her Chosen Each member personally selected and trained by Maestus herself. Peak physical condition, more a swimmer's lithe and agile build than brute strength. Their eyes were in a steady of state of motion. Keen and alert. In their right hands, each gripped a long Beskar pike.

Yes, she had all the physical trappings to display strength and power and influence. The trivialities of such baubles meant little and less to her. Means to an end and whatnot. Her true strength was deeper. More intimate.

At that moment, the battlecruiser dropped from hyperspace. Dxun greeted her as they dropped into realspace once again. Maestus turned from the central viewport, and began striding from the bridge. The Mundus' captain, Capt BlahBlah (to be renamed) stepped forward towards the center of the bridge, regarding the exiting Sith.

Orders, My Lady?

Not stopping or breaking stride...

Maintain position between Dxun and the planet. Once I land, engage the Interdiction Drive. Expect resistance and aggression. All shields at maximum. Pilots ready for launch. Ensure the ECM System remains active. Full sensor data from any and all ships. Monitor coms. Most importantly, keep my ship in one piece.


Maestus made her way through the bridge doorway. The blast doors shut behind her and the lasergate activated.

With each step towards her hangar, she began to feel the anticipation rise within her. Yes, the Tomb of Freedon Nadd awaited below. A powerful Ancient Sith, to be sure. Maestus interest, however, lie in Nadd's master. Naga Sadow. Long had the powerful Sith Sorceror maintained a place of import for the Twi'lek. Maestus was highly skilled in her own right as a sorceress. Her specialty was blending science and the Force and recording the outcome. Recently, she'd ran into a wall in her research and experiments. She was missing something crucial, but try as she might, the missing element was just in the edge of her fingertips. Her entire reason for coming to the well of the Dark Side was information to bring her one step closer to Sadow.

Rounding a turn into the hangar, her shuttle was waiting and ready. She waved off the Commander of her Chosen. Apparently she was going solo today. Well, solo +1. She did allow the pilot on board. She's spent years perfecting her absolute control over the ship. She could fly, nav and arm the guns if need be. Today, she stood in the cockpit as the shuttle the relative safety of the battlecruiser and headed for the surface of Dxun...


Dxun
Surface

The pilot knew where to head. As they flew low overhead the surface of Dxun, Maestus idly thought about returning at a later date. There were some species native to Dxun she would like to have in her lab.

They did a low and slow pass over the Tomb area to allow Maestus a view at what awaited her. The glint from the Mandalorian Iron the tomb's structure was built with was hypnotic. A thought sprung to her mind as the pilot set the shuttle down a ways off. Finding a clearing was no easy task on Dxun. The ramp lowered

Maestus strode down the ramp. As she stepped off, she squatted down and dug her fingers into the ground. Churning the ground up between her fingers for a moment, she retrieved a small box, size if a pill contain from within her robe. She dropped a few pinches of Dxun soil into the box and it was spirited away into the folds of her robe.

She stood and set off towards the Tomb. She was dressed for utility today. Her robes were a coarsely woven, rugged fabric that moved with her body. Black, with crimson stitching. She bore no insignia or identifying factors on her clothing. As her arms swayed, a vambrace peeked out from beneath sleeve of her left arm. Bronze in color,
Maestus Shield, one of her first creations. Round her neck, the dark energy radiating from Dragon Shield Talisman and the demon trapped within added to and enhanced the already massively palpable amount of Dark Side emanations the Lethan Twi'lek Sith exuded.

She found the overgrown oath that was said to lead the way to the Tomb and began her journey. With each step, she felt a gnawing within her mind take root. The instinct that felt the Ancient Dark Side energy so embedded in the very fabric that is Dxun. The thrill of the hunt and the prospect of gaining achieving yet another goal she'd set.

She licked her lips and continued to the tomb...​

 

[Kroeger]

D R E A D N O U G H T
IRON LEGION
2nd SQUADRON, 34th ARMORED ASSAULT REGIMENT
'FEAR IMPERATOR, DREADNOUGHT!'
DARK EMPIRE - Marlon Sularen
ALLIANCE - Gress D'ran

ANTI TANK, DEAD ARMOR
​

The silhouettes of the walkers were difficult to hide on this sort of terrain. The optics of the Cataphracht Main battle tanks eventually sighting them in. The gun slewed over the Sphinx and Thundercat walkers, painting each with a targeting gate that relayed through the Battalion the positive identification and location of the vehicles. They routinely crept up and back from the defilade, painting a picture of the approaching force before soon enough an alert notification lit up in Arminius's view. It immediately drew a scowl across his expression, gritting his metallic teeth in aggravation.

"Rounds incoming on our position! All units driver back!" He commanded to the driver and immediately there was feedback as the repulsorlifts roared to life, driving the Cataphracts down the berm and into cover before soon enough thunderous turbolaser rounds beat into the earth around them. Once out of visual range of the approaching Alliance armor, the Cataphrachts flicked the siege mode into life, killing the repulsorlifts, dumping all power into the shielding of the vehicles. It was enough to scrape off one bolt and keep the vehicle sustained to brave through another but at the end of the strike, two Cataphrachts were knocked out as they flicked back to tactical mode, the repulsorlifts flicking to life as the shields dissipated to their normal conditions, the power surge loops straining to perform the function in the vehicle. A sensor wave picked up on which Cataphrachts he'd lost. Red two and Gold three. Far from ideal, but not nearly enough to put a hamper in their operation.

"Demon this is Dreadnought! We've taken hits from IDA, put Bruiser on counterbattery, fire when ready and then set them to firing point besh!" He commanded the way of the TOC who relayed it the way to the ARTa Cataphract guns. Signatures captured from orbit along with fire finding radar detection would be able to triangulate and track the trajectory of the turbolaser rounds, honing in a vicinity grid of the firing unit down to a block of earth honed in at about fifty meters. Plenty good enough to send a fire mission. In hasty reply, the Alliance guns would hear the thunderous crack of mass driver rounds being sent on a trajectory of high angle hell before soon enough, heavy mass driver rounds would burst immediately over their positions in the hopes of knocking out some of the Alliance guns before pulling themselves into tactical mode and jetting to the next position to evade the hate that they'd just laid on the enemy and evade possible counterbattery fire so that they could position themselves into a means of performing fire support unto the enemy.

The two Cataphracts that were downed were quickly abandoned, the crew booking it downslope toward the position of the mechanized infantry who bounded up to meet the tanks at their rear. The rest slowly crept up into the enfilade, only their turrets creeping over the berm where they identified their targets.

"Walkers and PCs in area, gunner index 'AP'!" He commanded to his gunner who moved his hand to flick the ammo control switch on the console board between him and Kroeger, the mass-driver cannon's autoloader thrumming to life, pulling from the ready rack of armor piercing rounds as they sighted in a Thundercat walker.

"Walker identified! Two thousand!" Gharik barked out, identifying his target and ranging it with a ping from the weapon system's LRF.

"Walker! Two thousand! Fire and adjust!" Kroeger belted out his command, his independent viewer marking more targets separately from the gunner's sight before he flicked to Gharik's crosshairs to see the rounds land on target.

"On the way!" The gunner barked out before squeezing down on the trigger.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

The mass-driver cannon pushed out its burst in quick succession, the optics tracking the vehicle's movement with a slow slew of the turret in line with it. The first couple of rounds were aimed in attempt at one of the leg joints before he centered the crosshairs on target to deliver them directly into the crew cabin of the walker.

"Target! Fire again!" Kroeger said his spotting before keying out to the rest of his tanks.

"Focus the bipeds! Slew your guns unto my target! We'll core em each one by one before we move unto the big bastards!" Kroeger commanded, several of the other Cataphrachts pulling up unto the berm to deliver similarly timed and targeted bursts of armored piercing rounds unto the same target as Kroeger until it was downed at which point he'd track the next and move on.

"Death Dealer this is Dreadnought! Move up to phase 'Bantha' and dismount." He barked out, signalling for his mechanized infantry to stretch the line into a bold flank encroaching unto the Alliance movement where they could then dismount infantry squads with anti-tank capabilities to further gun down the Alliance walkers.

"Painhammer! Fire target aurek besh one zero one zero!" He commanded to his mortar platoon who were quick to deliver the strike, a screening, quick smoke mission to mask the movement of his mounted stormtroopers with EMP disruptive smoke clouds.

 

[Joran Olan]

BEACON OF LIGHT

Tags: Allies | Liorra - Enemies | Detritus Ren Cairan Shannon

War had once again come to an innocent world.

Joran had been on his way back to Eadu after his visit to Coruscant when the distress calls began to come through. Desperate calls for help as a force from the unknown launched an attack on Onderon. The attack had barely begun and there were already reports of soldiers on the ground, and most troubling of all, as Joran read the reports, talk of Sith and other followers of the Dark Side were reported to be on the surface of Onderon, and possibly even her moon. Then, some of these transmissions began to vanish, barely registering on Joran's ships logs before being lost. They were being jammed.

Reports of activity on Dxun had Joran deeply concerned. The ancient tombs on the moon, tombs of ancient Sith Lords long dead with a legacy best left in the histories. There had been many attempts over the centuries for individuals to make their way into those tombs, and while a few had succeeded, it was speculated that the true depths of knowledge and Dark power held within were yet to be fully uncovered. Joran had been forced to make a choice; to go to the aid of the civilians on Onderon and aid in their evacuation, or go to Dxun, and do what he could to prevent the evil held on that moon from spreading to the rest of the galaxy.

It had been an agonizing choice, and only the report of other Jedi going to the aid of Onderon helped soften the blow, though the wound it left on his soul lingered as he touched down on Dxun. He could sense the low level, lingering taint of the Dark Side permeating the moon, but beyond that, he could feel the much more recent darkness that stalked through the forest. The Dark Siders had a head start on him, and Joran had little time to waste.

He set off quickly through the jungle, his pace quickened with the Force, and avoiding many of the worst dangers that tried to stop the Jedi. He would arrive at the tomb, stopping at the entrance and looking down into the depths within. Joran did not linger long, ascending the stairs and passing the statues that marked the beginning of his journey into the darkness of the past, and the dangers of the present. He followed the Dark Side energy he sensed in the Force, using that as his beacon to lead him further into the tomb. The deeper he went, the harder it was to distinguish the presence of the living from the Dark Side power that permeated almost every stone in the tombs, but he had a gut feeling he was getting closer.

He was finally met with a physical sight of his foe. There were not too many in the gathering, but Joran was most assuredly outnumbered. That did not halt his progress towards them though, his white robes shifting as he reached down to withdraw his lightsaber. He felt no fear in his soul as he faced those gathered here, the ones who had come to take the knowledge of this tomb, and in doing so, bring further pain and destruction to the lives of the innocent across the galaxy. Joran felt no fear, no hesitation or lingering thought of his own fate, only the cool determination and resolve to do what he must to protect the innocent from a fate worse than death if these Dark Siders were allowed to succeed in their mission.

He ignited his lightsaber, the emerald blade thrumming with power as Joran emerged from the shadows of the tunnel. He held the blade in both hands in a defensive pose; his body turned to present a smaller target, and the blade held up, the hilt near his cheek. "You shall not progress further," Joran said, his voice echoing in the depths of the tomb as he stared down the Knights of Ren, his gaze falling on two among them in particular.

"Leave this place, and I shall not strike you down."

 

[Alexander Garrick]

DT-2186
EMPIREWAVE​

Location: IZIZ, ONDERON
Status: ONBOARD TIE/rp REAPER ATTACK LANDER
Mission: SEARCH AND DESTROY
Tag: -TBD



In the heart of the bustling capital of Iziz, tension hung heavy in the air like a palpable force. The crude order that had come to form in the unholy union of the Imperial Remnant and the Mawite Survivors had meticulously planned and executed Operation: Nightfall. Marked by strategic maneuvers and overwhelming force, Onderon was quickly consumed by the forces of the Dark Empire to-be. The planet's strategic importance, coupled with its history of resistance movements, made it a prime target for Imperial expansion, among other things..

The Demon Moon of Dxun, and the dark nature of Onderon's past, rumors of a gathering in some tomb revered by the Sith. The dark faithful murmured, whispering of something to come. It all harkoned back to Alexander, to a time decades ago.. were the Dark Times returning?

In a coordinated assault, Imperial forces launched a full-scale invasion of Onderon, overwhelming planetary defenses and swiftly establishing control over key strategic locations. Their superior firepower and technological advantage proved insurmountable for the Onderonian Resistance, despite their valiant efforts to repel the invaders. With the planet firmly under Imperial control, dissent was swiftly quashed through a combination of military force and propaganda. As tensions escalated, the Empire orchestrated a series of targeted strikes against known rebel strongholds and sympathizers, crippling their ability to organize and resist. Specialized units like the Death Troopers, including Alexander Garrick (DT-2186), were instrumental in these operations, carrying out precision strikes and neutralizing high-value targets with ruthless efficiency.

For Alexander, this operation was just another mission in service of the Empire Ascendant. Stepping off the landing ramp of the TIE/rp Reaper attack lander, he felt the familiar weight of his armor and blaster rifle, a comforting presence amidst the chaos. The streets were alive with activity, but Alexander's focus was singular: neutralize any threats to Imperial authority. The Onderonian Resistance, backed by the Galactic Alliance, posed a significant challenge, but it was a challenge he was prepared to meet head-on. With silent determination, he moved swiftly, his footsteps echoing against the pavement as he followed closely with his team. As they navigated through the maze of alleys and thoroughfares, Alexander's senses were heightened, attuned to the slightest hint of rebellion. His helmeted gaze swept over the crowd, analyzing every face for signs of defiance. Rioters clashed with Imperial forces in the distance, but his attention remained fixed on his immediate surroundings.

​

​

 

[Ibaris Varanin]

DEEP IN THE ONDERONIAN JUNGLES
BYOO: THE TAMING OF THE BEAST (NOW)
↓
OBJ 2: THE BEAST WARS (SOON™)

Who is to say who is the villain and who is the hero? Probably the dictionary.
- Joss Whedon​

In the days leading up to the occasion of the Imperial Occupation, Ibaris Varanin had been trekking through the Onderonian wilderness, accompanied by Beast Riders that she had gained the assistance of - rather easily, as a matter of respect for her position as a former protege of a previous Beastia, it must be said - to track down a Great One. Though her purpose in doing so was twofold, she had only let on about the one: a flex of her more esoteric capabilities. She could admit to a little hubris. The other reason, the subtle dark call which had pulled her into the attempt in the first place, that this was a proof and a requirement, was none of their kriffing business.

A Great One in the common parlance was a terrifyingly large drexl, far greater in length, breadth, and mass than average, a matriarch of the Onderon-Dxun airspace; one that survived and resisted enslavement by the Beast Riders through sheer size and ferocity alone. They came about rarely, but legendary tales of hunts for these feared yet prized mounts were rampant throughout the clans, and the reaving, if not destruction, of rival clans featured heavily in those same tales. Taming a regular drexl - a team effort - was something of a rite of passage, as it was. Bringing a Great One to heel, however, was for either the brave or foolish.

Or powerful.

It is said that their overwhelming build had something to do with the Naddist ‘taint’ present on Dxun. The thread of darkness woven into the place, anchored by the ancient Sith Lord’s tomb. Whether that was true or not was inconsequential; they had Ataane - the name the Riders stuck to this female - almost completely restrained. The chase and attempting to force her landing, a dangerous mid-air task, had lost them a couple riders to the earth’s rising up to greet them. And those riders’ mounts to fleeing in terror.

“Tighten up on those lines!” Her sharp interjection when she was almost clobbered by a flick of the end of its near-immobilised tail. “I prefer my head where it is, as I’m sure you all do for yours!”

That wasn’t a threat. Currently. They all wore a filter in their ears that reduced things down to manageable decibels - a drexl’s roar this close could feel as if it rattled the brain - so she did have to raise her voice and enunciate clearly when speaking, along with the hand signals.

She made her way back towards the ugly snout of the massive creature, picking past riggers as they secured the female to anchors wound into the rock. Anchors she had alchemically strengthened as part of the preparations for this work, as well as firming up the Riders’ newly woven rope. This was an old altar of sorts, the stains of old blood from cut palms - or when necessary, animal sacrifices - mottled the surface of this stony plateau. There were also old bones claimed into the earth where it met the plateau stone, from unfortunate riders that had been sent tumbling off by one reptavian or another, spatial unawareness, idiotic drunkenness, or some melange of the three.

She had already been thrown off of this creature once, for which there would be bruises, but Ibaris was long-accustomed to the aches and pains of dealing with beasts, and the burn of muscle - never let it be said that it wasn’t a workout. Peering up at Ataane’s snout, the beast's visage writ with animalistic fear as the lines were redone to muzzle it, Varanin's brow knit faintly. She frowned.

“You struggle needlessly, Great One."

Then the lines that were around the beast’s snout slacked and whipped, shouts and signals flying to convey that a roar was coming. Ibaris walked herself back, hands slipping over her ears and pressing into the soft filters. She gritted her teeth and cringed reflexively.

Ataane let loose a prodigious roar, and the air shook in a way that the... mostly Echani blonde had few comparisons for. All manner of avian life fled the trees for kilometres. Vaguely, it might even be heard in the city, a thought that drew her eyes skyward, to where she knew Imperial vessels orbited as the roar ceased. As the Great One's maw snapped shut, the Beast Riders resumed their work. Riders were quick to pick up and re-establish their lines, and quick to return to chatting amongst themselves about how they were going to wreak havoc on the ‘interlopers’. A change in her plans, they had told her, but they’d welcomed her to join them for the ride, even so.

All she had done was smile in response, for it was a useless gesture. They needed her, and she needed them until she wouldn’t. Ibaris resumed preparing for her second attempt at subjugating the overly massive beast to her will; she knew the fortress of the drexl’s mind better after the first go.

Ataane would not refuse her a second time.

WARNING
DARK EMPIRE: Marlon Sularen • Keilara Kala'myr • Thomas Barran • Kroeger
SNACKS: Silas Westgard • Vulpesen • B1-173 "Omar" • Anakwor Farlorn • Brak'rra 'Red Scar'​

 

[The Vulptex]

Objective: Secure the Queen
Names: Sam, Alex, Lyra, Beatrix
OOC Music: Run With Us
Equipment: Check bio
Tag: Kazian Blackwood ​

Once we doubled the defenses of the palace I was sure our plan would be sufficient, but I had spent the day so far observing the streets of Iziz, and the fighting spirit of the insurgency far outweighed the morale of the Stormtroopers, After all, they were fighting for their home.

Four shadows. Breaking into a palace like this was practically child's play, especially when you can avoid sensors. Thank the gods for their new custom suits. The plan was simple. Wait till dusk. That didn't take long, the invasion started well into the afternoon. By then, the guards would be ready to change shifts. It would give them a two minute window to get in. Grapple onto the roof of the palace proper, past the outer walls. Grapple gun made it easy. Dashing across a wire was just another day of training. Stepping silently was natural as the wind flowing through the fields of Naboo. Maybe it was too easy. A shadow paused, spotting an approaching guard. They considered firing on them, but...no.

A small firecracker went off about 50 feet away, a decent throw. It was enough to distract. Next was scaling the wall. Climbing claws, hidden from view, made that a simple task. They needed to get to the throne room, but never it be said the shadow doesn't do their research.

Finally, they looked in. Four foxes. Four shadows.

All they needed to do was infiltrate...

Silently cutting open the window, the first thing to do was simple.

Throw in a smoke bomb.

 

[Liorra]

​

Lio had been on the way home to Monastery, when the Force reached out to her calling her to a world in danger. Without hesitation she turned her ship around and headed toward Dxun. When she arrived the battle was under way. Lio knew not who gathered in the masses, what she did know was that destruction had come to a world without provocation. As a Jedi and a Mandalorian Protector she could not allow it to go unanswered. She left her training saber aboard her ship along with her droid and cat, she did however, take her beskar'gam, beskad and a host of other Mandalorian weapons.

She had read enough lore of the world to know that Dxun was something of a treasure hunt for those inclined to the dark side. Whatever trinkets they sought were, in her opinion, better off destroyed or at the very least the pursuers could and perhaps should perish. While the Jedi teachings called for mercy, her Mandalorian culture refuted such a call. Liorra bore no agonizing choice as she cut her way through the jungles of Dxun. She knew that the only choice was the one that meant ensuring that these invaders returned to wherever they came from. Liorra followed the call of the Force, going where it would direct her where to go.

Ahead of her she sensed the dark side, and a small beacon of light. With haste she pressed onward until she came across Joran Olan and the dark siders, Detritus Ren and Cairan Shannon among others. An emerald blade had already been activated, the modulator on her helmet activated as she spoke, "you will not stand alone." Beskad at the ready, Liorra began to take in her surroundings the jungles of Dxun would prove useful in two ways the ability to use chlorokinesis and if necessary, pyrokinesis. The group of dark siders did not bother her, while only a padawan Liorra was confident that with the help of the Jedi in front of her they would be more than enough to stop the group.

 

[Gress D'ran]

The Hellstompers
34th Walker Battalion, 1st GADF Army Divsion
Operation Sunrise
Objective: Hit back at the Imps
Tag: Kroeger

​

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

"Autocannons incoming!" The radioman called to his officer.

"Shields up! Wildcats, move up, they can spot the walkers, they don't have eyes on our armor yet. Get the snipers to hit those nerf herders with everything they got!"

The shields went up on the Thundercats, all their power dedicated to tanking those shots. AP rounds disappeared into energy shields, some pinging off. That's when the mortars hit, smoke rounds blinding both the snipers and the walker battalion. Gress frowned, taking a drag of his cigar. "Arty, hit 'em again. Blow their smoke away with plasma, then reposition. Counterbattery is gonna be inbound any minute, deploy heavy deflector shields if you need to."

Another thunderous roar of artillery rang through the air, another 36 rounds of thunder singing through the air.

But Gress wouldn't let up. "Do we still have their rough positioning?"

"...yessir. Why?"

"Fire the ions."

"Yessir! Ion Batteries coming up!"

The Sphinxes didn't need the actual positioning, just a rough estimate. Two Ion blasts, from cannons taken off capital ships, rang through the air. They wouldn't waste any time. Knock out the enemy, then advance.

Elsewhere in the air, the Ravens could finally see the enemy. Even if the EMP smoke disrupted the LIDAR and sensors, it wouldn't block the simple camera. Now they saw everything.

"Sir! We have eyes on enemy mechanized."

"Have the Cougars flank around and intercept. Lynxes behind them. Thundercats, start firing mortars at the enemy armor. Even if the AP doesn't pierce, six autoloading mortars will keep their heads down. Use Ravens to triangulate shots."

"Yessir!"

Mortar rounds started shooting off as the Wildcats moved forward, immediately ranging out Composite beam cannons, while the Cougars shifted to the sides, Lynx APCs following behind. They could hide behind the tanks, waiting for the right moment to unload their infantry.

 

[Darth Saevius]

Objective: I - Subjugation of Iziz
Location: Iziz - City Streets
Tags: Alexander Garrick | [OPEN]
Engaging: Jenn Kryze | Aron Thress

Even from Onderon, Saevius could feel the call of the darkness within Dxun. He wished to join the other members of the New Sith Order as they ventured onto the forest moon and investigate the tomb of Freedon Nadd. There was no telling what secrets lie within...

But alas, his presence was... requested by the Imperial Regent, who claimed he needed to provide additional support for the garrison of Iziz; who in turn appeared wholly inept to the task of quashing the insurgency within the city. It grated upon the former Sith noble to take orders from an outsider to their brotherhood - but even still, Saevius was no stranger to the reputation of House Korvan.

He actually knew of Ignacious before the Imperial civil war - or more accurately, Ignacious the first, who himself was a Sith Lord within the Empire. Even though Saevius was himself a young man at the time - younger than Korvan, he knew of the ‘poorly kept secret’ that Ignacious the senior was disappointed in his son’s lack of force sensitivity. It was rumored that the Sith Lord had attempted to kill his son on more than one occasion - a trait that Saevius had actually come to respect.

It would seem that survival was more than just a virtue in Ignacious the younger’s case, as he not only outlived his father, but had presided over his execution. Since then, Korvan had forged his own legacy in blood and fire; establishing a reputation that demanded respect even among those who wielded the force, notwithstanding even the favor of Solipsis himself.

So despite the small pricks to his pride, Saevius honored the Imperial Despot’s “request” and accompanied the Imperial reinforcements that landed within the city. Saevius exited the dropship, and called out to the soldiers around him: “Begin rounding up as many civilians as you can find within the occupied quarter, and gather them in the courtyard of the Royal palace.” His face was deadpan given its mechanical nature, but his voice seemingly dripped with the malevolence behind the plan that seemed all but obvious.

If they could not break the will of this city by killing its insurgents, then they would kill the city itself.

 

[Kurineth Cull]

LOCATION: Onderon
EQUIPMENT: Grave Bastion, Shades Refuge
WEAPONS: Souls Reflection, Phase-knife
MOUNT: Gore Wasp
LEADING: Skitterwing Horde
FRIENDLY TAGS: Ignacious Korvan | Kazian Blackwood | Marlon Sularen | Ibaris Varanin | Keilara Kala'myr | Thomas Barran | Hex
ENEMY TAGS: Brak'rra 'Red Scar' | Ayhan | B1-173 "Omar" | Mahsa | Aveline Cuiléin | Anakwor Farlorn | Zark San Tekka | The Vulptex

The horde had awakened.​

The careful planning of those within the Dark Empire had constructed a careful net of information gathering, spies infiltrating the planet they had wished to subjugate and filtering back the needed information to those that had the mind for it. Further filtering that information as needed to draw up the course of action for everyone within the Dark Empire to proceed forward as needed. Raiding groups organized and dispatched to establish footholds and attempt to bring the defenders to their knees.

And the majority of that part of the plan had gone relatively smoothly. Save for the resisting parties involved.

There had been murmurs of some group that proclaimed themselves beast riders, astride the creatures of their planet and striking at those they deemed desirable targets of opportunity. And had done so against their imperial raiding parties. Drawing the attention of the Kurineth to the operation as a whole.

Having initially been absent during the planning stages forging her gear, she arrived in time to be assigned a task at the very least. One that she looked forward to with great gusto. Even if she did end up a smelly mess in the end. The Scent Gland of the Skitterwings had been rubbed against her thoroughly, making sure that she didn't become an enticing target as she eyed the gland once more before eyeing the small horde that had been amassed for her use.

A makeshift burrow ensuring the growing horde had a chance to remain hidden while growing in numbers given their rate of consumption and reproduction. Little more than a gore bath in that late stages of the plan, the numbers inside the growing cavern would help with their task today.

Now she just needed to get them onto the field of battle. The hum of wings in the air announced her mounts displeasure at being made to wait.

Even with a pair of eyes missing, it seemed to stare at her. Her own eyes set upon the Gore Wasp with a glittering joy at the idea of flying in to battle to meet their foes. A thought tainted by the memory of trying to mount one the first time around and earning her a near death experience in the process. Angered so that she had nearly tore the stinger off the beast in the heat of the moment before reason overcame pettiness.

The beast was still not quite hers, made clear by the struggle to set it upon a desired path, but not entirely unmanageable in her eyes. Not when she could overpower the beast and endure such means longer than the Gore Wasp could outlast the pain. The remains of some natural fauna wriggled before disappearing from view as she came back to her senses.

Watching the remains be devoured with a slight grin about her, thinking of the defenders in it's place.

"Time for some fun." The words hissed along the ground, hand waving the scent gland to entice the Skitterwings attention before stepping away and onto the Gore Wasp that gave a slight start at her arrival. Either a subdued buck, or merely surprise in her eyes as the wings beat slowly before gaining in speed that lifted them just above the trees.

The Scent Gland held low against the side of the Gore Wasp and tied off to further spread the scent as the Skitterwings began to filter out of the nest like a cockroach nest exposed to brilliant light. Following the trail left behind as the Gore Wasp was pointed in the direction of the convoy moving through the area. The buzz of hungry life growing into a malicious din of noise behind her as the Gore Wasps wings buzzed loud and angry in the wind.

 

[Ignacious Korvan]

The Imperial Despot​

Location: The Royal Palace of Iziz - Onderon
Objective: BYOO - Oversee Planetary Operations
Tags: Marlon Sularen | Derix Tirall | Kazian Blackwood

Within a few minutes of the audience held between Agent Blackwood and the Queen of Onderon, the entourage both parties were expecting came into view at the end of the hallway leading into the throne room. The doors had remained open, which added to the gravitas of the Imperial Despot’s arrival as the sound of thirteen boots reverberated in the hallway; only to grow louder as they reached the double doors and proceeded to the edge of the throne without breaking stride.

The Despot’s escorts branched off from his side, adding to the perimeter formed by the CompForce soldiers in the chamber. Korvan appraised the head of state with an impassive, unbreakable expression akin to a thick sheet of ice. “Your Majesty.” He spoke without so much as a fractional incline of his head, with his tone suggesting that the form of address was merely a factual detail as opposed to a vaunted honorific.

The woman hesitated, but to her credit showed no clear sign of intimidation.

Yet.

"Despot." she returned flatly.

Korvan granted her a rare smile, which came surprisingly easy. It seemed to Ignacious that she meant the title as more of a descriptor for the nature of the Imperial occupation as opposed to stating his title - a convenient turn of wording to be sure, but one he was content to allow her to have. It was good that she knew the current order of things.

The Despot turned and acknowledged Agent Blackwood with a courteous nod, but then returned his attention to the Queen. “I must thank you for your decisive acceptance of our presence here. You have indeed spared many of the lives of your people from what would have been a rather... destructive confrontation otherwise.” His tone took on a slightly softer tone, which in and of itself was unsettling. He took a few paces closer and glanced around the throne room - as if noticing the setting of their conversation for the first time. “Heavy indeed is the head that wears the crown. Particularly so as I’ve become aware of a rather well organized armed resistance to our occupation. I’m sure that also weighs heavily upon your sense of duty to your people, what with the rather needless violence occurring in the outskirts of your city.”

Korvan’s intention behind his words remained elusive to the Queen, but again to her credit, it seemed she was not simply a queen by virtue of her bloodline; she appeared rather quick to the nuance of political discourse. Ignacious had worded his statement rather carefully, with his brown eyes taking in every detail so as to gauge her reaction; both verbal and otherwise.

After a moment’s pause, she spoke again, clearly choosing her words carefully. "Indeed... I take my duty to my people very seriously, Lord Korvan. I have done all that I can to comply with your demands, but as I’m sure you are aware... I cannot truly force anyone to comply with my wishes if they intend to do you and your men harm. These insurgents do not act with my consent."


‘Liar.’ Korvan thought to himself.

“I understand...” His voice carried slightly too much regret within it as he strode over to the reinforced transparisteel windows to the side of the throne, which overlooked the Royal Courtyard. “...while I’m glad to hear that you are not involved in this insurgency... it saddens me to contemplate what must happen considering the alternative.”

He peered out the window down into the courtyard. Curiosity overtook the Queen as she stepped over to join him - with a pair of Deathtroopers standing behind them both. The Queen and Korvan both observed a platoon of stormtroopers leading a group of cowed civilians into the courtyard, amassing them much like bantha cattle into a corralled mass. “Proceed.” Korvan placed a hand up to his ear, which was reciprocated and acknowledged by an Imperial officer down below. He walked along the mass, and singled out ten of those gathered. They were then forced out of the group and made to stand in a line against the far wall of the courtyard.

Realization began to dawn upon the Queen. "W-what are you doing?! Those appear to be normal civilians - how can you be sure they are insur--"

“They are indeed average civilians.” Korvan interrupted, without breaking his attention on the developing scene below. “But unfortunately, this is the only viable alternative if you truly are not behind this extremely well supplied and organized insurgency. The alternative is that your people are supporting it. An insurgency cannot survive if the people its fighting for stop feeding, hiding, and supplying them. If they cease in their support, then the movement starves and dies out. Plus, my men have died trying to maintain order in this city. Too many of them...”

A firing squad of stormtroopers lined up opposite the civilians, who all reacted in their own, predictable ways to the inevitable end they were all about to encounter.

“I have therefore ordered that ten citizens be killed for every single soldier that has died. To my understanding, we have lost over one hundred since the occupation began. They will fear us more than they love these insurgents.” He finally turned to observe the Queen, who stared in disbelief below. “Unless of course... you were lying.” Her gaze tore away slowly to meet his, with her movement slowed from the shock beginning to set in. He continued:

“Your people do not need to pay for your indiscretions, Majesty - but you need to be honest with us - and now. I want the names of everyone who is behind this insurgency, as well as the names of whatever Alliance personnel you may have spoken with to aid in the prosecution of this unrest. Otherwise -”

The sound of blaster fire echoed softly through the transparisteel, along with the sounds of screaming from the citizens amassed below as they looked on in horror.

“This will continue until Every. Single. One of my men have been avenged upon your people.”

 

[Nathan Bloodscrawl]

Wearing: Dooku Pattern Armor (Blue and Black)

Armed With: Nathan's Lightsaber


Objective: Iziz:


He had been here to pick up rare metals and materials for the Jakku Enclave when the invasion started.

The streets had erupted in chaos, and Nathan, caught off guard, had been armed only with a Lightsaber he didn't like using in front of Jedi.

It felt like he was surrounded on all sides as he deflected blaster fire, moving forward, trying to get as many civilians as he could find out of imperial hands and behind, some kind, any kind, of safety.

His dark blue blade sang through the air as he redirected deflected blaster fire at stormtroopers's head, being deftly manipulated and whipped about in his hands as he swatted bolts back into faces and weapons, only moving slowly and as much as necessary. The Cruel Boss whispered the direction of incoming bolts as he defended a crowd of fleeing civilians, teleporting thrown grenades back to their throwers, heavy strength deflecting slashes barely turning aside the odd Maser Bolt.

Such was the Soresu taught by his father. A style that had served him well all throughout the plague, only to fail him at the end.

Wide slashes deflected bolts back into grenades hanging from belts, and the explosion caught five others.

Nathan was not playing around. His blade whipped about his body in a sphere as he executed the circle of Shelter, batting aside swarms and swarms of blaster fire from every direction except directly behind him as he moved backward in the streets, enhancing the rotations of his movements with Force speed.

One of his deflected bolts hit a street light and severed it from it's lamp post, smashing down and killing a stormtrooper instantly.

Only when more than three dozen had fallen did he sense another presence, one that ordered them to pull back.

Nathan scowled as an armored Sith Knight stepped forward.

"Why do you even bother?" The Sith Knight called out. "There is nowhere to run. Iziz will fall. Even now, Ignacious Korvan makes an example of all who resist us."

"Well that's good for Ignacious." Nathan grunted. "How about you stop boasting of his achievements and make an example of me?"

"I'm about to." The Sith sneered in contempt and sprinted at him in a Force Rage induced flurry of chops.

Nathan responded by switching to Niman and then Force Speed as their blades met, crashing for three strikes, before the Sith Knight's head toppled from his shoulders after Nathan parried a blow and followed up with a surprise heavy deflecting slash.

"About to what?" Nathan muttered at the severed head as he watched the stormtroopers aim their rifles at him

A flick of his hand and the remaining twelve were put into a stasis field. Time to go. He scooped up the fallen Sith's Lightsaber, and sliced it in half horizontally.

He then began running as rescuing what civilians he could was much more important than killing every single last enemy.

The crowd he led had gathered weapons but those were only to be used in self defense. But there was no where safe. Absolutely nowhere.

He really was outnumbered, and he really was outgunned. There was no way he could possibly protect all of them...

Nathan scrambled for an idea as he led the small crowd. No buildings that could not be easily destroyed, no underground routes to access--

A Civilian was felled by a bolt he sensed too late and he teleported to intercept the next bolt fired, deflecting it back into the storm trooper that had fired.

He checked the civilian. Shot in the head. He sensed more...way more.

"Run..." He told them.

They were all running from the platoons of storm troopers that soon showed. When the Blasterfire got too intense, he ordered them into the ruins of a building for cover and now he was in real trouble.

The bolts came relentlessly. Still in Niman, but barrowing from Form 3's Circle of Shelter to swat away the torrent of bolts.

He withdrew deeper into the Force, sinking deeper and deeper, blade moving faster and faster.

He moved where his Cruel Boss told him to move, a hand stretched out, teleporting a speeder above a squad, crushing them, swatted bolts into weapons that caused explosions.

His blade swiped three bolts, and one of them hit the fuel tank of the speeder he had just used.

It exploded violently, and Nathan controlled the fire, turning it into a twister that swept through the remainder, burning them alive.

Nathan shut the blade off, retrieved the civilians and continued leading them, looking for any signs of friendlies...


Tags: Open.

 

[Thomas Barran]

1st Post

-A SECOND PRELUDE TO TERROR-

THE_BLOODHOUND
GREAT KHAN OF THE SCAR HOUNDS
WARLORD OF RHIGAR & MAR'ZAMBUL
DIVINE CHAMPION OF MOTHER REBIRTH

Tags(Friend): Keilara Kala'myr Kurineth Cull Marlon Sularen Kroeger

Tags(Foe): Brak'rra 'Red Scar' Anakwor Farlorn Gress D'ran Vulpesen

AT THE PRECIPICE II: DISTANT SHOCKWAVES - PART 1

BYABBA VILLAGE OUTSKIRTS, BADLANDS FRONTIER,
40-KM NORTH OF BATTLFRONT: IZIZ, ONDERON (901 ABY)

<"Dreamer to Bloodhound! Raider-band inbound to your location, likely rerouting back to Iziz">
<"How long d'ye reckon we've got t'wait now?">
<"They're roughly three minutes out. Turning northbound on Byabba Turnpike as we speak.">
<"Good work, Dreamer.... We'll report back soon. Bloodhound - out!">
​

It was just one little backwater town, split in half by a wide and dusty speeder trail that ran from the southern entryway to it's bleak, formerly crime-infested northern exit, and just that one deserted, forgotten village would be needed to take the weight off the Dark Empire's many burdens of occupation; and with that, a much-greater impact on the morale of all the local Beastrider clans in turn, and by means that would reverberate far and wide, and spread like an explosive shockwave beyond the meagre, hilly boundaries of the local district. Their statement of intent was needed to be loud in their even-louder embrace of the next century, as Barran wished more than ever to leave his lasting mark on it, just as his family had in the previous century, for better or worse.

​

'You heard the man! Look lively! Hands-on for detonator-standby, you know this song and dance!'

​

The plan was simpler than most of which Thomas had penned, but in the simplicity offered in donning the shock-armour support role on the grand-strategy table, the foundational bedrock on which the tribe's new strategies would be built would be solidly set with creative solutions in mind. Thus making his wilder-than-disruptive nature all the easier to humour, and in planning for an operation as disgustingly simple as that which the Bloodhound had discussed with his Darkhans and Magnar Clique, many had agreed it felt more like childish tomfoolery than tactical irreverence at the time, but in the process of implementation - it felt altogether more enthralling for the Marauders awaiting their leader's final order.

<"Nail to Bloodhound! Comm-Link traffic seems to be lighting up.">
<"Shoot.">
<"Alright, allied warbeasts are being deployed in coordinates somewhere east. Southbound.">
<"Zipping right past us an' right into the thick of it.... I miss it, so I do.... Bloodhound - out!">
​

Little did Thomas know, however, that it was more than mere warbeasts of the local counter-used variety - as the truth of Drexl-deployment may have excited the Bloodhound all the more.

'Once this lot's done, I'll put out the call to the allied relay-station.... Reroute the active convoy through here, the rest is just another run o' spur-of-the-moment actions.'

But in light of the circumstances, Barran was trapped in a laser-like focus that would continue until the task was complete, and for as long as IED's, zeroed strike-zones and ambush spots remained in play, this was unlikely to change any time soon. With complete strategic control and reach over all the surrounding areas, the elevation overlooking the entire scene seemingly offered panoramas that made it impossible for OPFOR elements to sneak up on the deployed Scar Hounds in the area, keeping Thomas firmly in place for as long as was needed, even for the actions impending. After all, it wasn't just focus keeping the Khan in place, not while the Galactic powers (among other surviving foes from years bygone) were still seeking to take the One-Eyed Fugitive into custody, making Barran quite the coveted target for all the Galaxy's opposing major powers.

'Works for me.... None escape to warn their comrades, and not even at any different stage can they even imagine it's possible, so we use the same trap for as long as it persists in ensnaring the unwary. Nothing new there anyways-'

<"-Dreamer to Rook! Standby to detonate.">​

Much like many of his comrades and allies who found their way onto the same Most-Wanted lists.

Many would find themselves safe within the embrace of the Dark Empire, but in the higher-reaching horde's infancy, no such assurances could be afforded so early, with the Coruscantine Prison Riots shining a light on the very reason why it had become so easy to apprehend the Bloodhound almost two years before his escape from Galactic City. However, bringing constant solace was the fact his tribe and growing Khanate alike were ironically safer in battle than they were in the Unknown Region, feeding into their need for combat, conquest and freedom from incarceration most of all - as there was nothing more soul-destroying to zealots than the chains of decadent rivals.

A story almost as old as time itself.

'Be right back - got some rigging to deal with.... Look to the south for the fireworks.'

​

Though this never stopped the Scar Hounds from returning home, nor had it ever stopped them from making loud and visible statements of intent with their actions in combat, but it certainly made their hypervigilance all the more intense in the heat of their resurgence. Much to the Galaxy's eventual misfortune, as the last thing any Galactic power would ever want or need was a wary, paranoid nemesis in wartime, and especially not in addition to the already-superstitious attributes of the archetypal Mawite Marauder of the era; as paranoid, self-preservationist people of Barran's sort were nigh-on impossible to outsmart on the run, and the Most-Wanted Lists only served to intensify that steely observance to Coruscant's great detriment.

Inadvertently rewarding behaviours that would be the death of many opposing operators, and in futures near and distant alike.

To know they were hunted was enough, but to know who would hunt them granted the Bloodhound everything he needed to read the very minds who would knowingly dare to approach the Scar Hounds, regardless of whether it would be in the field, in transit or on home soil at the time; and enough perhaps to let the tribes embody that erratic desperation the Galaxy was trying to instil in their minds, but with that volatility in mind, it would only reflect on their warfighting behaviours in the most explosive ways. Mar'Zambul was always a world of deathly zealots, much like Rhigar had become in the years following the Flayed Lion's resurrection, but in the wake of the prison escape the Marauders were only given greater reasons to embrace the Path of Martyrdom, and with them more justifications for engaging in the greatest extremes their fanaticism had to offer.

<"Ready.">
<"Good.... Now hold - five, four, three.... NOW!">
​

'SNATCH IT, BOYS!!!!'

'It must be said - that delay is much better than negligible.... I expected a smaller mushroom-cloud too! Not bad, fellas. Not bad at all!'

Every Magnar and Darkhan in the fight had known, and from the very offset of the planning process at that, their ultimate goal in the Badlands would amount to more than the meagre act of,"Getting the locals' attention.", in and of itself, though their ostentatious message to the Beastriders would draw the Horde much closer to the mark than the planning-process had dared to predict. As any great flash of light in any suchlike wide, and far-reaching valley basins would be seen with ease, even to the oldest, blindest of sentient gazes, made all the more obvious to the local elements in the likely-impending shockwave as it knocked them off their feet, thus there would be no way to deny such explosives were deployed in the region after the fact.

'Alright.... Time t'hold up my end o' the bargain.'

<"Bloodhound to Ghoul! Patch me through to the DI-Relay, they can get my message wherever it needs t'go.">
<"One moment, please stand by.... Patching in three, two, one-">
​

The Onderonian raider caste would doubtlessly make their attack on the village, this the Scar Hounds knew from the beginning, though Thomas was fortunate enough in his guess to estimate the mores that would be needed, especially if he was to have so much as a hope of forcing a collective hand into rash abandon. Wiping out an entire warband of active, committed Beastriders was no small thing, but it was never enough to instigate a unified response, but in the event that two or more of their mobs perished in the same day, perhaps then the right eyebrows would rise and furrow with the slaughter's due concern.

<"Relay-Command speaking, stenographer readied.">
<"This is Bloodound! I have an urgent message here, for whoever the kark is coordinating the Convoy-Defence Contingents, can it be done?">
<"Affirmative, Bloodhound. Convoy Defence is a high-priority line, but you have the clearance. Stenographer is waiting.">​

'Just when I thought this day couldn't get any better.... YUUUUSSSS!!!!!'

​

And if hundreds (or even thousands-) more of their Beastriders' fighting-aged population had to perish before the operation's final phase could be implemented, then Thomas would have no qualms whatsoever with bleeding the Wildlands a little longer - not while the message of dread was needed to find it's way to Coruscant.

<"Alright.... Instruct a southerly reroute at Shanty Turnpike, and to drive through Byabba with as much haste as the resource-hauling vehicles can muster. Scar Hounds can cover from the moment the convoy turns south, standing by and ready to counter all pursuing Beastriders.">

 

[B1-173 "Omar"]

Objective: Objective 1 - The Beast War (Ambushing Imperials)
Location: Onderon, Hill 167

Back at it once again, B1-173 is currently being deployed to yet another planet however this time it was Onderon, a planet he remembers quite well albeit with a more sentimental value. The droid fought on Onderon during the Clone Wars and wouldn't be surprised if the locals gave him rather scornful looks, if they even remember the events that transpired on the planet. Despite Onderon being a Separatist world it had many guerrilla fighters which were affiliated with the Galactic Republic. However now, the Separatists hundreds of years later are now saving the people of Onderon from the tyrannical rule of the New Imperial Order.

"Onderon? Wow... That's just greaaaattt..."

B1-173 remarked sarcastically, he didn't really like this world but it wasn't in his control to do anything about it. The transport vessel now descended towards a clear opening for a landing to deliver more troops and supplies to the defending forces on Hill 167. As he climbed the hill, B1-173 scanned the surrounding area with his integrated sensors in order to analyse the landscape for potential threats. Despite the steep incline him and the others faced, B1-173 continued his ascent without hesitation, although during his ascent some close calls almost happened where he nearly slipped back down, however the droid decided to use his detached vibrobayonet as a improvised climbing tool, although it had little effect onto the hardened rock. However unlike organics, B1-173 can put his limbs anywhere without the risk of it being impacted by pain. The droid continued to move up the hill until he finally reached the top where the defenders were, already present and rushing to their battle stations.

After witnessing this, the battle droid would rush down the hill into a recently made dug out by soldiers of the First-And-Only Caria "Forlorn" Ranger Regiment. He was surprised to see that virtually all soldiers apart of the regiment were organic, because when B1-173 fought for the Confederacy of Independent Systems several hundred years ago, the majority of the forces consisted of droid forces like himself, however times change, and as such B1-173 was more fixated on keeping his head down so it wouldn't get spotted by an oncoming adversaries despite being located above the dirt road. As he did, he noticed the Colonel looking through his micro-binoculars, reminding him of the prior encounter they had near the planet of Wroona. He would take out his E-5 blaster rifle and attached the vibrobayonet on the rifle. Staying put along with the other soldiers, although he was still confused on what the plan was.

"So what's the plan here, exactly?"

B1-173 continued to maintain his defensive position as he asked the question out of curiosity. As he did so, the droid continued to keep watch from his position, searching below and grabbing out his electrobinoculars and searching around for enemy targets whilst he placed his E-5 blaster rifle down close to him to quickly use if the enemy were to appear. As the minutes slowly passed, and as suspense filled the air, B1-173 remained vigilant, scanning the horizon for any signs of activity. Occasionally, a gust of wind rustled the foliage, but everyone remain still and ready to confront the enemy forces. Once they pass that road the order to attack would be sounded, as time went on B1-173 was catching on the general gist of the whole thing without being notified on what his objective was. But as he waited longer, he realised they were going to ambush something for sure.

Tags: Anakwor Farlorn Vulpesen

 

[Khaostra Devoid]

Back In Black​

Post: 1
Location: Iziz, Onderon near the entrance to the city
Equipment: Red Midnight Duster | Red Sith Armor | Sith Mask | Grav Boots | CrushGaunts | x2 White lightsabers | Forearm Lanvorak | Wrist Laser | Variety of Explosives | RSKF-44 heavy blaster | X-21 shock glove
Tags: Atin Tracinya | Anna Carden

​

A hand touched the mask on her face, holy chit. She was alive how the hell did that happen, last thing she remembered she was going to pull her mother out of a god damn situation on Exegol and then all went dark. She looked up in the sky then spun around to see a large looming wall with large blast doors as a gate. Well that was new, she was on Exegol a moment ago then black and now here she was. She knew this place long ago, she had been here it hadn't changed too much. It was Iziz City on Onderon but last time she was here she had come with a delegation from Empress Teta as one of the guards they hired. All part of her mother's grand plan way back when to bring the Galaxy to it's knees.

Those plans always changed and involved and the long road led to Rhand and then Exegol in the end. For moment of time, she had thought she was free from the madness but like always she got dragged into it. This time was no different, she had no damn clue why she was here or how she got here. Why was she here was the bigger question, was this some kind of Cosmic joke. As she stood there confused trying to figure it all out all hell began to break loose rioters and imperials or what looked like imperials come to suppress the activity.

Right, she remembered the last thing she knew Imperials controlled Onderon, enemies of the Maw. Had the Maw survived, had they come for Onderon? Had her mother brought her back but for what purpose? So many questions and no answers as chaos erupted all around her. She found herself starting to get pushed and shoved by people rush past her. She heard commands for the crowd to halt by soldiers. God damn her luck to be brought back in the middle of a god damn war. This had to be her mother's doing only she would be mad enough to do something like this.

Khaos found herself moving with the crowd of people so not to get trampled. She had to break away, had to find a quiet corner where she could think for just a second. She moved with the crowd as she tried to find an exit anyway out of this mad house. Maybe find an ally but more likely she would run into enemies. A rat in a cage just clawing for a way out.