Invasion Operation Shadowdance: TSE Invasion of NIO-held Muunilinst, Orinackra and Ord Thoden

[Sith Rebirth]

The galaxy burns, war rages from as far south as Nar Shadda to the very top of the galaxy's northern edge. An Empire besieged, battered and broken now seeks to reap swift retribution upon those who have wronged it. A rebirth, promised by a new Emperor, has lead to a reinvigoration of the Imperial war effort and a precise strike to sequester what was once the capital of the Empire, Bastion, and the end of the Baraxant Run from the rest of the New Imperial Order. This is the first strike and those who will come to define the future of the Empire, in victory or defeat, shall lead it. Following the New Imperial Order's capture of Serenno the Empire moves to strike at the jugular of any army. To sever the newly expanded supply lines of their foes with ruthless efficiency.

But vengeance is not the only ends with which the Empire seeks to upset their foes.

The Eternal Empire, long standing and trusted allies, have been without their Eternal Empress Ingrid L'lerim for far too long and to let such an important ally remain in enemies hands any longer is unacceptable. The Empire will protect that which it values and seeing the Eternal Empress free is a task the New Emperor has deemed of the utmost importance. As forces of the Empire moved with unflappable determination toward their target the Emperor would don a small device created by the ingenious Taeli Raaf for this offensive and address the Imperial Forces with a firm, resonating voice. The Dark Side of the Force pouring from him and inspiring all those who heard it with the inextinguishable will of the Sith.

"My people. We come now once again to bring vengeance, justice and swift retribution to our foes. This offensive shall be precise, efficient and focused. The bulk of our forces move instead to Vjun to intercept the reported New Imperial movements in the sector. This war, of traitors and turmoil, defiance and duty, shall test you all this day. It shall grasp at your very soul and test what it is that drives you, inspires you to the heights you dream yourself capable of achieving." The New Emperor paused and closed his eyes for a moment, going silent to those who listened, before his features contorted into a fierce, blazing scowl of righteous anger. His voice seething with fury and fire as he declared. "But we are, and shall always be, SITH! Ours is the way of grasping that turmoil, that tumult, and claiming it as our own! That as the horrors of the galaxy attempt to rend our souls asunder we in turn burn all the brighter! Our future is as we make it, our EMPIRE is as we make it, and we shall be reborn greater than before. One way, or another....." With that The Shaper turned and began to prepare his descent to Muunilinst, as he would be the very first to step foot onto the battlefield. The very first to face their enemy and the very first to look into their eyes as he showed them naught but unending defiance.

Objective I: Media Blitz (Sabotage; Ord Thoden Ground)​

Until now the war these traitors have played at has been an unrefined, blunt thing. We shall teach them that a single slash to the throat can have all the effect of a strike to the body. We will be taking their voice from them. Specialized broadcasting facilities, those that allow their forces to communicate and plan their movements. Wipe them out if you must. Leave them blind and isolated on the field of battle. In the clamor and cacophony of war, no one will hear them scream.

“For long we have known that the New Imperial Order rests its support on the image of their intractable war machine… but there is nothing that cannot be broken. The planet Ord Thoden harbors an advanced communications network, a key fact that we will use to our advantage. Rather than meeting them face to face, as they often want us to do, we will instead strike at the heart of their image, using Ord Thoden’s modernized infrastructure in order to attempt a broadcast takeover of their communication lines. If we, acting through the guise of the Eagle Network, can take control of their networks and remotely break into their databases, not only could we disable their ability to coordinate their legions, but show the rest of the galaxy the horrors they have committed beneath the cover of dark. Whether through diplomacy or direct conflict, infiltrate their radio stations, and splinter their loyalties. We will bring truth again to the galaxy, no matter the cost.”

Objective II: Rising Resistance (Prison break; Orinackra Space/Fleeting)​

To sew havoc and chaos amongst our enemies we shall be committing a task force to the freeing of Empress @Ingrid L’lerim Vandiir. A fleet of enemy Star Destroyers has been spotted in-system and one can have no doubt of an intervention by the New Imperial Order’s own Admiral Regent Carlyle Rausgeber, thus this mission requires the most skilled pilots, Captains, Admirals and infiltration specialists for success. The Empire watches, your New Emperor protects, and the Eternal Empress will soon be free by the will of the Emperor!

“Through our dealings with the Tiss’shar after we have successfully held Ziost twice over from the Galactic Alliance, we have been put in the unique position of having access to mercenary and smuggler assistance. In orbit of Orinackra is the NIV Tregessar, on which the Eternal Empress Ingrid L’lerim- Vandiir is being held, by accounts of the Tiss’shar spies. Your mission is simple: operating under the guise of the Eagle Network, a false terrorist cell, infiltrate their fleet through naval combat and boarding actions. We will not have the liberty of bringing forth a massive armada to strike at their fleet due to localized debris fields and powerful electrical storms - this is a mission of skirmish and bloody vengeance. Bring freedom to the enemies of the New Imperial Order, with utmost priority set on locating and freeing Ingrid L’lerim, and let them loose to strike in revenge against the New Imperials. Failure is not an option, and any and all mercenaries willing to assist in this matter I will personally oversee the handsome paying of.”

Objective III: Breaking the Silence (Muunilinst Ground)


A world long familiar to the intricacies of war Muunilinst stands as direct access to the territory of our foes, and will allow us an unfettered staging ground for choking out access to their northern holdings. It is here we will likely meet the stiffest resistance and it is here we will bring down the mightiest blow. Our enemies are entrenched here, ready to meet our fury with their own defiance, and we must refine our fury to a white-hot point. Our invasion of Muunilinst shall consist of three fronts.

Front Hydra: Much like slaying the mythical beast of Yavin this front shall be centered around the decapitation of Muunilinst’s governance. ‘Removing the head’ as it were. No matter how many times are necessary. Join this front if you wish to besiege the capital of Muunilinst, to wade into glorious combat for the Empire against the most trying resistance.

Front Chimera: With the recent hiring of Shuklaar Kyrdol and his Mandalorian brethren our forces dedicated to this front shall be a combined-arms affair. Intent on severing the support and retreat of enemy personnel via the elimination of their main spaceports. Join this front for sabotage, destruction and an explosive approach to warfare.

Front Fafnir: Striking at the head of our enemies is not enough, we must remove the heart and soul of their resistance as well. We shall be landing forces among Muunilinst’s most pronounced financial institutions, eliminate any influential banking clan figures loyal to the New Imperial Order. As the Empire is reborn so too shall those whose avarice and greed swell the war machine of our enemy be met with retribution.

“We are a dying Empire. We have seen this for years, that with every system we lose, this galaxy bleeds further and further into chaos. No matter how much we have fought, how much we gave, every life we have offered to bring stability, the lie that is peace has always taunted us. It is time we surrender. There is no saving the dream that your fathers and mothers have fought and died for, but we will be its bloody vengeance! We will show them the face of war and remind them that there is no truth in trying to control it: go forth, and let them know our name. Break through their supply lines, destroy their ability to fight back, and sever their abilities to bring communication and order to their armies! Become the image of terror, and leave them reeling beneath three fronts: Hydra, to cut them off at their head and destroy their warlords; Chimera, to be the beast of a thousand forms and bring hell upon their skylines; and Fafnir, to silence their song and destroy their genesis before it begins.”


OOC Thread

 

[IMPCOM]

S H A D O W D A N C E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
THIRD IMPERIAL CIVIL WAR
OPERATION ICEVEIN

OVERVIEW​

The Third Imperial War has entered its fifth year of nigh uninterrupted conflict. It had been half a decade since the New Imperial Order had seen its first major victory in the war at the schism's dawn within the military operations headed by the Imperial Force Corps on Mygeeto and the Imperial Stormtrooper Corps at Muunilinst. As an ode to this anniversary, much of the New Imperial Leadership convened in Harnaidan, the administrative capital of the world. It was a city which had seen peril following the days of the New Imperial offensive unto the world following the nuclear liquidation of the Braxant worlds under the Sith-Imperial Edict: Evacuation of the Braxant Run Decree - Transference of Treasury Decree signed into effected by then Sith Emperor Kaine Zambrano.
The New Imperial government immediately sought about rebuilding Harnaidan in tandem with Muun benefactors and within a few years, the planet had returned to working order and became a pillar of the New Imperial heartland, many of its indigenous inhabitants carrying a high support for the New Imperial Order following Sith scorched earth tactics.
In the fifth anniversary of the victory at Muunilinst, the New Imperial Leadership with Galactic Alliance and allied visitors paid their respects to those who fell in the battle as well as discuss the matters that plagued the New Order and the Galaxy as a whole. With a foreboding report from Lord Executor Rurik Fel concerning the Bryn'adul excursion into the Sev Tok system, any deliberation over it was immediately cut short.
The Sith Empire has returned.

OBJECTIVE I
EYES WIDE SHUT
ORD THODEN GROUND​

Ord Thoden has been contemporarily regarded as a backwater industrial world and in the context of the New Imperial Armed Forces, very very low on the list of preferences of where to be deployed. At Comms Base 'Echo-Aurek' a small, parcelled contingent of New Imperial military forces had been stationed there to protect the operations taking place to maintain the broadcast station sending subversive messages into Sith Imperial space with the hopes of causing an uprising in Sith space.
However, the war had come to them and the parceled together force now faced the threat of Sith Imperial infiltrators.

OBJECTIVE II
HIGH VALUE ASSETS
ORINACKRA ORBIT​

Orinackra for generations had been utilized as a prison world by the various Imperial governments that had occupied it. After seizing it from the Sith Empire following the crucial and strategic victory at Dubrillion, the New Imperial Order hardly 'liberated' the world, carrying on the tradition to house some of the most dangerous prisoners of war.
Charged with transferring the Eternal Empress, Ingrid L'lerim , Admiral Regent Caarlyle Rausgeber has come under Sith Imperial ambush and now him and his accompanying naval task force must fight to not only defeat the Sith Imperial naval force but as well as ensure that the Eternal Empress remains in Triumvirate custody.

OBJECTIVE III
LIFELINE
MUUNILINST GROUND​

After five years of peace and a meticulous rebuilding from the hellfire the Sith Empire wrought nearly half a decade before, Muunilinst is bathed in flame once more. The Sith Imperials have assaulted the streets of Harnaidan. Although a heightened military presence due to the arrival of New Imperial leadership might have set the New Imperial Order in a more favorable position, still they must scramble and adapt to defend the city and world from the assaulting Sith Imperials.
Not only are there highly valuable economic assets in the IMP500 at risk but the planet as a whole is crucial strategic point along the Braxant Run. Losing Muunilinst could threaten to cut Bastion from the rest of the New Imperial Order and swing the tides in Sith favor for the first time in half a decade.
Harnaidan must not fall.

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

I M P E R A T O R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION
BREAKING THE SILENCE
LIFELINE | THE HEAD OF THE HYDRA
Armor | Pistol | Grenades | Melee

DARK AGE
-1:00 HOUR
HARNAIDAN '65​

Even in peace, the pale green high rises of Harnaidan was a foreboding sight, flashing between what had now been returned to pristine glory and the ashen ruins before. Half a decade since that original bold and nigh suicidal onset to the Braxant Campaign. Far fewer assets, far less territory and the New Imperial Order, hardly anything more than a group of rebels...nay...patriots, crossed the breach. While the Imperial Knights held their ground in the crystalline high rises of Jygat on Mygeeto, Irveric Tavlar led the 501st into the bloodied streets of Harnaidan in what had formulated a black cauldron of some of the harshest fighting in the Third Imperial Civil War.

Urban warfare always had that special distinction to it. Two dozen textbook ambush points around every corner, frantic confusion leading to many blue-on-blue and blue-on-green friendly fire incidents which would plague and haunt the morale of the commanding leadership on either side.

But in spite of the ghosts that lingered in his mind here, there came a time to make ode to achievement, to victory. He was a man among heroes, and those heroes deserved their just due. What was supposed to serenade a few days or so of recognition to the sacrifices that took place in these vaunted streets, the sacrifices of the likes of Sam '7empest' Deckard, Kan Belisarius and the rest of the 501st, 307th, Sons of Mandalore, Galactic Alliance Marines and Rangers who all gave their lives here.

In the wake of that heroism, business needed to be done, the New Imperial High Command convened around a harrowing message that came from the way of Rurik Fel. Describing the Bryn'adul in grisly detail, the continual threat that was the Sith Empire, got a little smaller in that moment.

<"The fighting on Sev Tok was some of the most brutal and inhuman I'd ever witnessed in my time commanding the Imperial Knights...what is said about the Bryn'adul is true. They are a threat, akin to none other. They can't be bargained with. They can't be reasoned with, they do not feel pity, remorse or fear...they will not stop until all life is brought to waste in the Galaxy. Whether or not the Silver Jedi Concord can retain its hold over Sev Tok...it is inevitable that our nation comes to clash with these marauders. We should be at the upmost readiness for what is to come. I have sent a more fully detailed debriefing of the encounter there for analysis. I recommend all southernmost worlds be given increased military presence and that the Imperial Military Assistance Group increase its allocation to the Concord...for the Empire."> The message from Rurik Fel cut off and a weight beared down over the room for a moment, Irveric looking toward the now empty holoprojector in silence.

Not only did the Sith congregate in organized states with standing militaries and a suicidal drive to continue to battle the New Imperial Order and its allies past the breaking point, so too did they convene in radical terrorist and religious extremist groups bent on sowing death and destruction across the Galaxy. And now, this alien threat compiled unto an already incredibly daunting list of foreign threats.

If they didn't attain supremacy in their existential battles, they'd reach the brink, the breaking point.

Soon enough, the enemy would come to them.

The arrival of the Sith wrought sirens of alert through the full and packed streets of Harnaidan, these were people carrying through their daily life, trusting fully in the New Imperial Order's ability to defend them from invasion.

And once more, the sun was blotted out and crimson rained over Harnaidan.

The meeting of Imperial High Command dispersed immediately, most all of them being warfighters themselves clammored to take positions of command while those non combatants were soon taken ahold of by Nova Commandos to be brought to safety.

Looking over the highrise skyline of Muunilinst, the crack and chaos of Sith invasion, a cold eye observed the action for a moment in seeming indifference before he nodded once, turning to see one of his primary confidants of the 501st waiting to address him.

<"Sith Imperials have made landfall, sir."> No warning, no notice. Military intelligence, ISB, COMPNOR, this slipped through all the cracks and with little to no preparation beyond doctrines and contingencies stored away and only ever regarded by the Imperial Army planetary defense force of Muunilinst, there was little by the means of a plan to strike back.

"Get our troops to the front immediately, we need to seize the initiative and press them back to the outskirts. All civilians, have them pull back in waves to he-"

<"Sir...if they've chosen Muunilinst...they know you're here...they want to sever the head from the snake."> Vizek interjected. Tavlar nodded once in full understanding.

"I know. I never said I was going to deny them the opportunity. The Sith want blood, results...and they'll take it by any means. The more they commit to killing off the Command...the more human cost it will demand of their force." He commented, beginning to pace toward a vertical storage hold which opened to his approach. Within, the Enigma pattern armor he'd ventured into battle with, grey and cobalt it was hardly a noble raiment fit for the Imperial head of state. It was a tool, for war. In it, the only sentimental depiction upon its metal composite plate being the depiction of the argent skull over the right half of his face, the punished.

He equipped it with a trained, methodical procedure and soon enough, he was ready for war. Ready to command.

He immediately patched through to Ravraa Vyshraal , Lord Protector of Shili

<"Ravraa, Secure avenues of retreat for the civilians, we need them hold up in the designated safe points."> Next, his commo reached Jaeger Harrsk , COMPNOR.

<"Harrsk, you have command over Point Kanos, we're going to try and funnel as many Sith here as we can and create a kill zone. If they want to go for the crown, they'll die paying for it."> Irveric commands.

He turned to his confidant.

<"Group the 'Ready-First' Brigade, 501st unto point Gamma. We'll group up and move from there.">

For the second time, Irveric Tavlar would master the battlefield on Harnaidan and make sure it was far more Sith than Imperials buried in ash beneath the ruins of this city.

ALLIES || NIO | GA | SJC | Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt | Jaeger Harrsk Lucien Dooku Ravraa Vyshraal DECEASED Erskine Barran Willan Tal
ENEMIES || TSE | OPEN

 

[Areyon]

A R E Y O N
KNIGHTS OF THE EMPIRE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
Lightsaber Pike | Armor​

The history that accompanied the scared battlegrounds of Muunilinst was sacred to the New Imperial Order. The talk of the first major victory that belonged to the faction roared through the legions of stormtroopers as new conflict sprouted in old fields. The thing that brought them together and bonded one with another.

Victory.

The connection that forges under the heat of battle is strong and tight, a relationship that no weapon can slash or shoot through. Areyon felt the same with the Omega Knights that stood at his side. Individually, they could hold their own. They were leaders, risk-takers, men who did not bat a single eye in the face of death itself. But together, they were a force to reckoned with. The Imperial Knight put faith in all of his comrades, and even more faith in the Imperia Force Corps. The Corps and the Knights that filled its ranks were among the best anyone could have the honor of working beside. It was why Areyon took the strides to become one of the few chosen.

The streets of Harnaidan were flooded with soot and ash. Smoke arose out of holes in fallen structures, structures that the New Imperial Order had fixed from the last devastating attack on the planet. Visibility was getting worse with each second that passed, and the time to defend was getting near. Stormtroopers took position behind collapsed walls and makeshift watchtowers made from debris and junk. Screaming could be heard from all directions. The battlefield always turned into a hell zone once the fighting started. And if victory was not achieved, the planet would never recover.

Areyon stood alone in waiting. Before the battle, there would be an eerie calm that would soothe and relax him. The anxiety and thoughts of danger washed away in the calm and were replaced with ambitions for victory and peace and duty to serve the Order.

The planet would not fall to the Sith once more. The time for action was now.

Allies | NIO | GA
Hostiles | Sith | OPEN

 

[DECEASED Aron Gowrie]

I
Operation: SHADOWDANCE
MUUNILINST, 865 ABY

Objective 3: BREAKING THE SILENCE

Commonwealth Forces: Amadeus Blackwood
Allies (NIO): Irveric Tavlar Rurik Fel Enlil
Kolson Vrask Areyon Jerec Yularen
Allies (NJO/GA/FO/SJC): Aerarii Tithe
Enemies (TSE/CIS): Shuklaar Kyrdol

Gowrie's Loadout

Primary: Custom Blaster-Pistol (Right-hip Holster - left-or-right hand draw)
Secondary: Basket-Hilted Vibrosword Rapier (Left-hip Sheathe - right hand wielding)
Last Ditch/Second-Blade: Fairbairn Vibroknife (Right-hip Sheathe - right-or-left hand wielding)
Pocket-Weapon: Barbershop Razor (Right-pocket - right-hand wielding)

Wildcat Battalion (Mechanized/Artillery/Infantry)
55 Cataphract Tanks
20 AFVs
5 MLVs
2 Predator Launch-Platforms
2 Guardian Tac-Teams
1 Field-Medic Platoon
1 Combat-Engineer/Logistics Squad

The Glow of Death I - Roving Through Recent History

Roving through the lightly forested, lush backdrop of Muunilinst's vastly devastated segment of it's mostly ruin-infested surface, with the troops firmly walking on the crushed, powdery remnants of the bushy, earthen topography that would otherwise cut through the leather boots of the hand-picked Tuath infantry/engineer/medic units following close behind the vehicles. With their SA-65s shouldered and sights set on the surrounding windy, swaying green trees on the hillsides, (though it wouldn't be long before the view was blighted into a reflection of the hostilities all around them and other mountainous regions in the areas around the NIO's defensive lines) the wood-chipped, gravelly mud surface beneath their feet would be safe enough to walk on for a time, knowing they'd be moving through grounds easily more level than the secluded spot their dropships had landed on.

<"McCallan to Blue-Heart Bravo! Looks like it's the northwest route after all....">

'Copy that, Cataphract One! Hold position an' find us a way through Sith lines for now, even if the only way is loud and ostentatious. Also, we don't use such terms here, not unless you're describing Captain Reed or Woads in general. No Blue-Hearts here but the Ginge himself, Wildcat One out!'

Historic moments led to the birth of the independent Free-State loyalist Tuath unit, seeing a rapid influx of recruits from all over the commonwealth once more, both Barran and Tal agreed that Gowrie would benefit greatly on his own initiative, with a growing mass of subordinates from his home region to make him fight harder for the officers, crewmen, infantry and engineers who knew much of what it meant to fight for the likes of Lord Willan and Lord Barran alike. Historic moments that led to them driving at a safe distance from one of the largest of the many craters made in the historic moments that concluded the first great battle of the Third Imperial Civil War, moments that all in the New Order looked on as the mythic beginnings to all they were still fighting for; even after the Stygian campaign, the dream of a peace treaty would be seen as a fantasy due to acts like those which left pockmarks on Muunilinst and Ziost in particular, and none would likely forget the acts which strengthened the resolve of a powerful minority element.
Aye, yees tried glassin' Barran on Bastion, mind.... Biht aw yees goat were Jorie an' Heggy instead.

'Cuimhnich air-Ravelin.... Cuimhnich air-na thuit!'

Even as the sprawling, though scarred skyline of the dying Harnaidan Megalopolis lit the skies ahead, the Wildcats would pause before descending into the outer districts of the planet's most-populated province, with Lord Aron stepping out the Thistle by the slide-door first to gaze across the one-of-a-kind backdrop in a peaceful, windswept silence that the others almost-subconsciously adhered to. As Barran fought over the scarred beauty of home, Gowrie would be fighting over the scarred remnants of a wondrous battle (one he only half-believed had transpired in the first place) he wished he could draw inspiration from; one fight would be glorious, one would be something else entirely, and the thoughts of Bastion, though the Kellas wouldn't realize for some time yet, would be discovered ringing out as frighteningly-apt as soon as their defence of the city gradually intensified. However, the serene silence of the battalion would be cut short by the sound of opposing MLVs, and the sight of their projectiles cut the quiet like a starting-pistol, kicking the Wildcats into action as they planned their first action of the battle.

While Tal's warhound would announce his own arrival, a kellas would not.... For sly are we who befriend the shadows!

The Glow of Death II - Yours? Naw, mate! Mine!

Completely unaware that the Tuaths were watching them throughout, three Sith-emblazoned MLVs were beginning their part in getting the show on the road, letting loose with their expensive payloads on flat, low-altitude ground as the Wildcats' very own tribal answer to the Blue-Hearts' Guardian concept carefully descended the jagged rocks of the southern cliff's north face to sneak up on them. Despite this, only ten minutes of downward-scaling would get in their way, and after five heavy barrages aimed at the city's populated suburbs, troops who otherwise doubled-up as tank-or-AFV crewmen would use the view-obscuring, dusty smoke to their favour as they closed the distance with bayonets and Fairbairns at the ready. The Lord-Colonel would have his subordinates' confirmation soon enough, so all Aron needed to do was smoke his cigar in silence as he waited with the others for the expected flare signals from the Guardians below, puffing away as his eyes drifted back to the city itself, noting that none of the rockets had hit the urban areas yet as he did so.

'They hit lookout towers, security checkpoints.... And what looks like - BINGO! One relatively-sturdy redoubt! There's oor would-be FOB right there, Milord!'
Pa-thetic, Sith-bois.... The NIO's ground forces would much rather invite you in to Hell instead, guerilla-warfare time!

A lot of the men who'd gotten out of their vehicles to stretch their legs would be fellow crewmen of Lord Aron's picks for the two tac-teams, so most would be watching their comrades with the thermal-optics on their rifle sights, or using the same scopes to scan the trajectories of the Sith MLVs' payloads. Some would notice two ammunition trucks that the artillery-operators had tucked away behind a jutting, broken crystalline mound, picked up on the thermals being utilized by the onlookers above and relayed accordingly; whether the smoke-obscured warriors below were aware or not at the time would be anybody's guess, but all would be self-assured in the collective assumption that those below would see to the hidden lingering issues one way or another.

Within a further minute of waiting, the expected flares by the Sith-aligned MLVs went up, and though the Wildcats atop the cliff-face were glad of their success, they had two further things to worry about in that moment; the flares would reveal the positions of other vehicles or units in the area, and though they were well covered by supremely-accurate (though susceptible to overheating) SA-65s, the units sent to the enemy ammunition trucks would need to be quick if they wanted the effectiveness of their vantage-point cover to last. The first set of flares would fall, Infrared-optics would be adapted, lookout and stragglers from the ranks of their foes would drop like flies, but still something was keeping the second set of flares from being fired, until-

About bloody time, lads. We've never been known for playin' wae oor food, we're no like the Woads.

'There we go! Bets wan o' them had a chin oan 'im! Reprimands for the wan wae sare knuckles or a sare face - should've had his Fairbairn drawn instead o' tryin' t'jump in like a mad Atrisian dafty!'​

​

 

[Kolson Vrask]

G R U N G E
TASK UNIT ALPHA
BREAKING THE SILENCE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
Storm Recon UCP | BKM-62x Battle Rifle | DSP-61x Hybrid Pistol | Savior Anti-Grav Shute | Grenades

BE SEEING YOU
HARNAIDAN '65​

Storm Commandos were always led the way. Even on a defensive footing, this circumstance wouldn't change. It was time to go to war. Muunilinst, the sight of the New Imperial Order's first great triumph over the Sith. Grunge was hardly more than political prisoner on Lothal at the time, after his father led an unsuccessful and immediately put down putsch of the planet's government following the rise of the New Imperial Order.

He was a political prisoner, escaped and became one of the best. A Storm Commando. Where the Stormtrooper Corps was the finest infantry fighting force in the Galaxy, the Storm Commandos were the best of that bunch. The training pipeline was a grueling process, designed to test the physical limits and break down the tolerances of the mind through rigorous training, drilling, academia. In the end, the Galaxy's most dangerous individuals emerged.

Embarking on immediate reaction force, Task Unit Alpha and Vrask's direct command in Vandal Squad was immediately redirected to the Muunilinst system. The presence of the Imperial Assembly was a known factor here and Grunge personally expected 'VIP' guard duty.

Instead, total war.

They were rushed into the troop bay of their TIE/RPx Reaper, the choice method of insertion for the Storm Commandos. It could take the punishment and evade enemy fire well enough.

They were immediately told to prep for 'HALO' insertion. High altitude, low opening drop. Usually intended to evade enemy scanners on clandestine ops but here, it might've been the only means to get the Commandos to the ground past a contested air and space superiority.

And it meant, landing just right, unto one of these perilous, raised cities.

No factor.

They had a job to do and they'd get it done. Because who dares, wins.

The squad and attached enabler units prepped themselves for the drop by fixing their anti-grav chutes to the backplate of their cuirass, each of them checking over the other, once, twice, three times to ensure it'd deploy properly. Then oxygen apparatuses were fitted over the helmets, to ensure a more comprehensive rebreathing in the lightness of the atmosphere. They were set to go.

The lights flashed green and it was time, Grunge led them into the void. Helljumping into whatever chaos and bloodshed awaited them beneath, in the money green stoney streets of Harnaidan.

ALLIES || NIO | GA | SJC |
ENEMIES || TSE | OPEN

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

BREAKING THE SILENCE // MUUNILINST
Guarantor | Visions of Gold | Taxman’s Embrace | Limited Liability | Attire
Darth Daiara

The streets of Harnaidan, the capital of Muunilinst, were no stranger to well-dressed bankers and their entourages hurrying between meetings with prospective clients and business partners. Indeed, Aerarii Tithe knew the streets of the Muun city as well as New Escrow, the capital of his native world of Aargau. His former life as a Sith-Imperial Banking Clan official, and earlier as a successful corporate banker has called him to the world more times than he could recall.

An auspicious occasion - the fifth anniversary of the New Imperial Order’s capture of Muunilinst and neighbouring Mygeeto and Scipio - had brought him to Muunilinst to celebrate. At the time, the NIO victory had not been a great day for Tithe. The then-Moff and governor of Sector Group II had led the Sith Empire’s defence of Mygeeto alongside Grand Moff Madelyn Lowe and had only just escaped with his life, narrowing escaping death at the hands of Gat Tambor in the vaults deep beneath the planet’s surface. He doubted that the Sith-Imperial Banking Clan had ever truly rebounded from the loss of its key banking worlds.

Fast forward half a decade and the Aargauun was here as a representative the very antithesis of his old employer - the Galactic Alliance - of which he was but a heartbeat away from leading. He had shared a meeting room on Muunilinst with the NIO, not as an enemy but as an ally. The small collection of medals he wore, presented by the Lord Imperator for his role in the battles of Bastion and Ziost, spoke to his support of Tavlar’s regime, a nation that had once tried to kill him. The Sith Empire, once a sprawling galactic power, was beset on all sides from all size with enemy occupations deep within their once strong borders.

And yet, freedom remained elusive. Emerging from the galactic west, the Bryn'adûl were driving deep toward the core, consuming everything in their path. While surgical strikes had been the favoured tactic to head off their encroachment, it was quickly becoming clear that only a united front could bring the invaders to a heel. Thus will the convocation on Muunilinst had sought to celebrate the five years of victories achieved by the New Imperial Order, it also sought to devise a strategy to counter the Bryn'adûl.

The Sith had other ideas.

Despite arriving under the impression this journey could be another meeting of powerful politicians and business titans, events had taken a turn for the worst when the Sith Empire had arrived in orbit and began besieging the world.

What had promised to be a soiree of like-minded individuals and the potential to build his business contacts had become a flight to freedom. Tithe hurried toward his shuttle, surrounded by his Alliance Senate close protection team, having excused himself from the proceedings when it became clear this was not a simple hit-and-run raid. Sith Imperial starfighters swooped overhead as reports were circulating that Sith Legionnaires had landed within the city limits. While the NIO was initially caught off guard, they quickly responded and redeployed their forces to hold the city.

Come what may of Muunilinst, all Tithe needed was a few more minutes to make it to his shuttle.

 

[Decimus]

Location: Central Command Facility, Agamar
Objective: 2
Post: 1

Decimus quitely looked out over the vast series of factories and foundries scattered across the surface of Agamar before him from the safety of his personal command centre. He had invested a great amount of time, effort and money into turning the world into the centre of his production capabilities. Yet overseeing production was not why he had returned to his seat of power.

An operation to liberate an important prisoner from New Imperial custody had been planned in great detail by himself and his peer, Moff Lyken. He had given Lyken every asset he'd require to stage a sucessful rescue attempt. All they needed now was a good amount of luck and time to pull the job off. Decimus turned to face the large holo-communication device in the center of the room, sending a transmission to Lyken. "Moff Lyken. I trust everything is in place for the mission? We can afford no slip ups if we are to save Ingrid from her present situation."

Moff Drybis Lyken

 

[Caarlyle Rausgeber]

O R I N A C K R A
STRENG GEHEIM
NIV Confidence
Ingrid L'lerim

CELL BLOCK
The door to the cell unsealed dramatically with a hiss. Instantaneously after the door opened, boots and armour clattered down until her majesty was sat opposite two men in crisp plastoid armour. "On your feet, maggot." The Stossjaeger growled at the Eternal Empress, a considerably dark tone to his voice. The darkness of her quarters was immediately illuminated by the brightness of florescent lighting.

As she was marched up, about a dozen or so cocks of rifles could be heard. As her vision cleared, it became clear this was an escort. "Move it!" The voice snapped again. As she was hurtled out, and into the cool corridor, there was a jab to her back, and an immediate wooziness overtook her. The Force it was it was sapping from her. As if something was gnawing upon it continuously. "Come on, move it! Or I put my rifle butt through your 'ead!"

The Empress was curtly marched through the confines of the ship. The halls she was walked through empty, and the plentiful jabs from rifle butts to the middle of her back were ample enough to encourage a hastened pace as the plastoid clad commandos marched her through the depths of the foreign vessel.

THE COMMAND DECK
"I must say milord, that this is an... unanticipated pleasure." Commodore Hernand Damming mused, eyeing the Admiral Regent with a timid stare. An anxious lick of his upper lip followed. "But I assure you, milord, that the cargo we are hauling is very safe in our hands. And that while this visit is again, a pleasure milord, we are operating under strict instructions. And that we should not anticipate any-" Damming was cut off by the curt, condescending musings of his superior.

"Tut. Tut. Tut." Rausgeber drawled, voice rich with arrogance. "Consider Commodore," Rausgeber pridefully drawled, circling the man like a predator, "My presence here as neither a performance review, or any.... contravention of orders from some other power." Carlyle mused, grinning, "Need I remind you it is I who organise doctrine? That it is I who command the authority of the navy?" He teased wryly, but there was a dangerous edge to his tone. A sharpness which undercut his jocularity. "This is what you would consider, a more performative act. A personal indulgence, if you would Commodore." He paused, and licked his lips, "You would not say it is everyday, one has a head of state aboard your vessel, no?"

Damming politely nodded. "I-I suppose not sir. But, she is a prisoner. Under transfer. And given the reports we received regarding her.... abilities. She should be kept under lock and key. For your safety milord, and ours." He could sense the oncoming wrath, as Rausgeber seemed to become pointedly vicious in his gaze.

"Hail Rausgeber!" The Stossjaeger barked, cutting off Commodore Damming. The Stossjaeger thumped their clenched fists against their chests, and then saluted, in typical Prefsbelt fashion. Carlyle reciprocated the gesture, with not as much ferocity, and upon his finishing of it, they stood down somewhat. "Grand Admiral," The leader barked, "As per your instruction, I present the prisoner." Carlyle grinned and eyed over the Empress with a great deal of self-satisfaction.

Rausgeber gestured to a seat, vacated by one of the Confidence's crew. "Strap her into that Captain." The Grand Admiral commanded. Her majesty was immediately herded toward the seat, and then strapped into it. Bound both by her legs, and arms to it. Carlyle approached slowly, watching the display of power. "How unfortunate your majesty we did not get to meet under more.... auspicious circumstances." He began with a warm smirk, "I do apologise for rousing you from your chambers, but I just had to meet such a head of state as yourself."

"I'm unsure if you require an introduction your majesty," Carlyle mused approaching and then squatting, so himself and the royal were sitting eye to eye. "But I sit before you as Admiral Regent, Carlyle Rausgeber." He introduced himself, "I imagine your Majesty, it would be safe to assume that you know who I am at least roughly given your expansion through my former stomping grounds." He added with a sad, soft smile. Genuine forlornness bubbling through the arrogant demeanour. He brushed it aside, and glared deeply within her eyes.

"But that is an aside. I would call this a pleasure, but that would imply some sort of social call." He elaborated, "Unfortunately, such niceties can wait as you and I have some business to discuss." He paused and wagged a finger in front of her face, "Business that may be very..... Profitable. For both yourself, and myself." That wicked grin spread itself again.

"So your majesty, care to lend an ear?"

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

T h e _ R e n e g a d e
New Imperial Order // Genesis Rangers
Outer Rim Territories // Muunilinst // The Assembly
Task //: BREAKING THE SILENCE - LIFE LINE
Tenebrae Armor / Hand Of God / BH 'Durin' Charric Blaster Pistol/ Light Saber

K a m i k a z e e​

​

<“Sybila.. copy. Channel secured, relay requested.”>

Was it an inevitable end, returning here to where it all began?

<”Copy, Genesis Actual. I read you loud and clear.”> Sybila said, the rasp of her voice no louder than a whisper-the metal comm rubbed across the tender skin of her neck hidden at the collar.

The sights from the highrise were inarguably beautiful, a city of white alabaster stone, sophisticated pillars, and the center point of Muunilinst; Harnaidan. Credits bursting at its seams and a pinnacle in Law, paling only in the face of Bastion itself. You could almost see the face of the public works building she had called for rendezvous, when Genesis had jumped in the fires of hell itself. Five years ago and her memory still remained spotty at best, it passed by at times like a broken holo. It was the right building she mused-but the smoke had been scrubbed from it’s stone face.

“You lack the simplest understanding of value Sybila, and this? This is truly pathetic-”​

The woman turned sharply, the all to familiar call of migraine surfaced and her chin jutted up as firm hands adjusted the neck of the wools wordlessly. It had been hours since she had heard the voice, but it had been the monotone of a replication and not the ghost who haunted her steps. A cold sweat clung to her neck. Cinn was meticulous down to the service braids, ghosting over the old bars of rank on her cuirass-offering a final tug at the lapels of the trench coat.

“You can see some of the ink under your chin, just for your information,” Cinn warned her amidst his work, what else was she then a wolf in sheep’s clothes after all.

“Powder would have made a mess, let them wonder-I’ll keep my chin down if necessary.”

It was the only thing grounding her there, the in and out of a mission and infiltration. He was almost pale as a ghost but played his role well and she nodded to the trooper. It was a distant call-she wondered if the man felt it too. Avernus was a parasite in the end, and it was difficult alone concentrating in the presence of the Holocron-the one she struggled to smother at the forefront of her mind. She didn’t want to know the damage it could cause left unattended-it would be destroyed otherwise.

<”Check point’s ID, easy enough. Some Knights from Fel’s retinue in the mix-broadcast incoming standby,”> Nima’s voice flooded her ear, her words bordered exacerbated. Sybila listened to the faint play back of the deteriorating front, Rurik Fel's voice faint but familiar as he delivered a grave expectation. Her eyes flickered to the holo pad, the effects of a horde to her personal interests waned. She slowly tracked the progress of the teams as they spanned across the different wings, lying in wait-she wasn't foolish enough to sweep in to the Assembly herself alone. Time sensitivity did not matter, she could here as long as she needed until the crowds started to move.

<”Noted, any sights on Rurik or Friendlies?”>

<”Negative.”>

The cover didn’t fit right and the growing chatter across the link continued. The lining dug well into her forehead, bit into old scars but neither her or Cinn would comment on it, it was a borrowed uniform and the charcoal wools were too new-too starched for her tastes. It didn’t help that they didn’t reek of Starbird No. Five-cheap cigarettes. Nima had secured it, had secured half the mission.

Moving forward with the rest of the security team, the rangers blended in amongst the crowd of the Assembly building, carving their way in and a way out as they moved to the open lobby, trading floor for floor; it was to clean-sterile this high above the metropolis. Nima passed in to sight ahead, the blonde was the first to exit the main hall followed by the likes of Ban. Sybila veered toward the glass wall, far from the woman as as they revolved around one another admidst the business; refusing to acknowledge each other to maintain the low profile. What a reunion clouded so deeply in mistrust-Nima Appw’rii had gone on to seize the rank of Major, and it had come with all the disappointment the woman expected. She should have gotten out, but here she was willing, aiding her despite the risk-but Sybila didn’t care enough to regale them with excuses. A man took his orders without argument, Ban knew this-and a friend didn’t ask too many questions.

She wondered if Nima still considered her anything of the sort, Sybila could taste her hurt.

“You’re quiet Cinn,” she uttered over the murmur of the crowds, seeking distraction. The Assembly was for the most part tame-their reflection of the day was a sobering one it seemed.

“Just..taking it all in ma’am. Quite the gathering, five years after all that I mean..You sure the dress coat was the right idea..?”

“I was never that popular, only a handful will recognize me if they went looking,” Sybila supplied, walking into the building in full tenebrae was a difficult sell. Though buried well beneath the lays of cloth, she could press two fingers into the side of a saber and arm if she sought their comfort. “-they won’t make a scene here, they can’t afford to if someone catches on.”

At the corner of her eye the holo pad’s cerulean screen flashed in hand, somewhere far remote across the city the splicing operation requested more time. The woman smiled to herself, shoulders dropping as she turned her gaze back to the spanning windows. The slim square disk was handed off to Cinn in a single motion as he hefted the metallic briefcase in to her waiting hand. She had a terrible feeling, one that gnawed at her stomach and she could not shake it. Whatever it was that reflected through the Force-it had long before they had hit the system or stepped foot on the planet.

It cautioned her, and urged her to turn tail-the woman might of mistaken it for her consciousness if she wasn't careful. Her servo replacement hissed and clicked painfully in response to the agitation-the whole of her arm was still confined to the sling. Her eyes drooped and studied the infernal contraption, it was practically barbaric but they could manage on short notice.

It was the last shot on a clip, if it came to that.

If she could have seen her whole life from start to finish..it was in the wires of the foreign contraption and the curl of the digits; something stolen out right beneath her. How fitting, it was almost natural to her now, where flesh met cybernetic. Darth Maledictus had run the whetstone down the length of her mind, down her hand until it was sharper than any blade and molded that part of her since the day he tracked her down.

This place brought too much to surface that boiled, forced to confront these painful memories and their serrated edges in clarity.

The men shifted around her, breezing naturally around her as her mind continued to wander. It was nice to simply stand and watch after so many months of not-the taste of the caffe they had offered at one of the tables, still savored on her tongue. She would have to rouse herself and keep pushing forward until it came to confrontation.

It made her feel no less delicate. Sybila hadn’t been casted aside haphazardly in the wake of the greatest military engagement. Her brows knitted together against her better judgment.

Darth Avernus had told her to let go of the persona of the soldier, but she almost recognized the woman in the reflection of the glass, the contacts did wonders for her ashen complexion. She looked like who the Major General could have been or should have..That woman had been easier to kill however. It was too soon, too late. What stage of psychosis had to devolved to, or was it recovering-she wasn’t hallucinating. Sybila sucked in a sore breath, they still had another level of clearance checks to pass and she nodded to the small retinue.

Irveric Tavlar wouldn’t refuse her, the trade off was too personal-he was a fool and flame all the same.

<”Eyes on the prize, anyone?”> Sybila questioned-her voice filtering across the low frequency.

A dozen negatives rolled across until the words were no more than static. There was a map of the building they had been agonized over for hours until it had become days. She had memorized the halls of Credence in less time, it’s ash still lined her lungs and it’s fires had long eaten away at her on the open ramparts-she had almost escaped but it was Sybila who had emerged in her place; who was free. Lyra was the one who had hit the ground running here though, dying down there in the streets as monstrosities-even if that was elementary descriptions of the flesh that was twisted into something breathing; the living darkness. The Colossus had no issue with bursting through the cement barricade, or rendering limb from limb until simple men were nothing more than gore. It stirred a skin crawling sensation that threatened to consume her, if she looked hard enough she’d find the regret gnashing behind her clenched teeth.

Some wounds simply would never heal.

<”Enigma spotted-”> Ban's voice caught her attention.

Tension flooded her body and Sybila turned away from the view, eyes flickering up the long hall in search of the Zabrak. She knew the look the illustrious Imperator would wear, the innocence snatched away-disbelief wrapped in the shell of a man..though she considered his hard look the set of his jaw; angry. Whatever would come, she weighed her worth in hand, and the case swung at her side in hand.

Belisarius the name was plastered across the wall by some projection, she ghosted through the crowd; her feet leading her to the curiosity. The face of the hardened criminal and soldier. Whatever track record the Task Force had, Hellhound was long gone but in white aurebesh it flitted across the wall far above their heads. Her head fell back as she scoured the words, she had never noticed before-but it was just another memorial. She was familiar with the name and the failure behind the man-the myth and a thousand other soldiers here. Hold the hotel front, he was supposed to do the job she had been compromised on-and something else had died down there beside those men.

She would never have the word for it, she didn’t understand it.

“I’m..sorry,” distress hung off the simple two words and escaped her in one breath-one she couldn’t control. Sybila froze then, her eyes burned-hearing her voice before recognizing what she said.

“Pardon me..Ma’am?”

There was another noise half formed and whispered, Sybila shook her head as a gauntlet touched her arm. It rooted her there before she slipped back in to the maw-

Cinn’s dark eyes stared intently and she wished she did have the answers, the ones he was waiting for-she felt it like a tidal wave in his head; begging. They were stuck once again in the middle of hundreds of bodies and Sybila glanced past her shoulder as she weighed her words. It didn’t help to mutter in front of them needlessly. She thought too much and felt too little on a good day, today was supposed to be a good day.

The monsters weren’t down there any more, the bombs buried under the roads, the entrails of chemical gases-they were scrambling behind tables of horderves, in a thousand shades of silk, and behind podiums making speeches here all around her. Those battles weren’t ones she was prepared to win, no one here had the moral high ground-least of all her.

Sybilla swallowed the anger burgeoning in her throat, two short breaths were drawn through her nose and exhaled through the mouth. She did that again until her mind swarmed and she rationalized until she faced the truth, it wouldn't work.

“All attention on the task at hand Captain, I’ll worry about the rest,” Sybila said though clearly each word was dredged from her unwillingly. She looked like she had swallowed something bitter. The shined boots she wore dragged across the floor as she forced herself to move down the wall of projections; weighed down by the fingers digging in to her arm.

The man refused to let go.

The mission wouldn’t matter when the first alarm trilled, even Cinn’s own contacts went off and the woman came to a halt wordlessly while he retrieved his link from his belt. Sybila eye'd the communicator in his hand, watching in wait as sea of alarms surrounded them. What had stilled a thousand men and command in the same room. It was the first general warning, an Invasion. She wanted to laugh as the crisis state came through the line and the shadows flooded the skies, then the first shellings that rocked the city beyond their sights. They had come, drop ships reported across the line.

She had almost buried it, if she refused to die-somewhere in her bones refused to give it up and Kascalion couldn't rip that out of her truly. It revealed worse things about her, and her eyes screwed shut. It wasn't the time for that though. Sybila looked up from the communicator staring at the emblazoned wall-at the faces of Gladius.

A humorless laugh escaped her, something that died as quickly as it sounded. A single hiccup until she was choking on the ugly sound-how couldn’t it be funny? Theses simple memoirs. The sound caught the eye of the bystander, of the Captain, and more. The longer she stared at the visage of dead men, some of those men dead because because her orders.

It was an auspicious date to wage war, if there was one thing she hated more in the galaxy second to the Devil himself.. The screech ties shook the windows, and Sybila's body whipped around as the Assembly awoke with a fury. Men raced around them and Sybila moved through the gap, of bodies to look beyond the windows. It wouldn’t be long now before the smoke engulfed the horizon as the air grew heavy. The steel of ships reflected the day's light, their presence was endless as they descended-the first Sith Imperial boots had landed someone reported. She slipped from behind the wall, the servo clicking as she undid the buckle of the sling-letting it fall away at her feet.

The Empire had come back.

The pit in her gut grew and drove a valley down her chest, and she touched the edge of the pool-of the abyss and rage that lingered near her heart. She didn’t care about the rest, or who she had to step on to reach Kascalion, but she was growing tired of the endless climb; of being interrupted.

Not-for driving her commander, the man she had loved mad enough to strike-to wagethis whole fucking war from the start, for massacring planets and stealing their youth, sundering a million men at arms and their families, for bleeding hundreds of more systems dry, for coming back.

The past that had started here, lined every crack of her façade with a searing hot white rage still but it wasn’t her anymore. That was the past, she wanted to seize it with both hands and strangle it but a long old grudge never failed to pierce her. Sybila’s jaw ached as she hissed under her breath. Denial rang through her mind but it proved to once again be too personal. The woman hung her head, dragging the cover off her head with her servo.

Her form quaked, the weight of the shrouded armor half pieced together pressed deeply into her shoulders. Teeth were clenched so tightly as she seethed. Sybila remembered all too well what it was like to carry the full weight of the suit, faceless and a machine for a heart. The servo wove it's way in to her hair and clawed at her skull until pinpricks of pain overwhelmed her. A cough racked her body and she gulped for air from behind dried lips.

She would only ever help perpetuate the war effort sadly and coming here was..a mistake. She was reduced to the simplistic urges of want and envy that tangled with loyalties, and how she loathed the word where it incapacitated her. She refused lose sight of the task at hand yet, she could handle it. Sybila reveled in the challenge.

<”Genesis-Actual.."> Sybila struggled to speak in between each breath, letting her servo drag through the length of her locks-to the loop of her belt where her thumb caught; planning. <"Confirm target’s location..recall all teams and regroup on ground levels. You have a fight to finish elsewhere..I will join you shortly..”>

NIO // GA // ALLIES : Irveric Tavlar Jaeger Harrsk Caarlyle Rausgeber DECEASED Erskine Barran Willan Tal Lucien Dooku Ravraa Vyshraal

​

 

[Vesta]

BORN FOR THIS​

Muunilist

Breaking the Silence: Front Hydra​

Location: Air over Muunilist Capital​

Equipment: Talon of Typhojem, Lightsaber​

Allies: The Sith Empire​

Enemies: New Imperial Order | Noel Strasza ​

The world that saw her mother realized as the serpent-garbed Darth Alekto, Muunilist was a thorn that would forever remain in her side. It was where the Empire began its slide into failure, it was where traitors came to roost, and it was where she now came to make sure that they died. Puppet governments, social farces, the New Imperial-led machine was everything that the Shi'ido had come to hate - everything they were was all that they had taken from others, from the symbols emblazoned on their flag to the generals that filled their ranks, few had been born in their fledgling empire. Certainly they had put the Sith Empire on the ropes, and surely it was clear that the unity of an empire with the sith idealism was as fleeting as it had been in the age of the Galactic Empire from the speed at which they began to sink soon thereafter, but there was still the same fatal flaw in their mode d'etre as there was in all the rest of these secular groups.

Greed.

She followed no leader, heralded no Emperor, but Darth Mori wasn't above falling in with the status quo when it meant achieving something she desired - cut down the leadership installed on Muunilist in exchange for exacting some degree of revenge on the New Imperial Order for their part in keeping her from ever knowing her mother's face? A drop pod descended like a meteorite, streaking across the atmosphere with its payload held tightly, securely, inside. Darth Mori was, of course, the child of Braith and Braxus Zambrano, the shapeshifter that had been born as Vesta Zambrano, but she'd shed that persona for its vulnerabilities and its ties to the fragile lives of the ones she'd been close to in favor of a Sith title.

Certainly the Sith would have taken part in a number of offensives against the New Imperials, but her attention had been drawn to Muunilist from more than an emotional perspective - the banking world had not been taken by them without good reason. It had been a crippling blow to the Sith's financial abilities at the time, uncertainty had brewed almost immediately among the top brass, and, as she fell to the banking world below, Mori was determined to see the New Imperial Order share that pain. Red-on-obsidian eyes glanced to her right, to the container that held her blade and saber both, and then closed as she counted the seconds until the inevitable collision and her arrival.

'Twelve..'

 

[Kuben Woods]

Equpment: Combat Harness | Lightsaber | Disruptor Rifle | Sawn Off Shotgun | Body

Objective: Serve the Empire by rescuing the Empress

Tag: Alina Tremiru , Caarlyle Rausgeber
​

To say that Damian was back into the thick of things once more, and happy to be there, was the understatement of the millennia. He'd patiently waited to serve his Master, the Empire, and all her people after his rebirth at the Emperor's hand. His body was relaxed, and yet tense. He was calm, yet excited. He could taste the copper in his mouth from all the blood that would soon be flying through the air between him and the enemy. This however was to be a different mission for him, as he'd been prepared to drop and fight side by side with his master, his emperor, his god, it would seem he'd had other plans for him. And while this mission wasn't what Damian would have hoped for as his first return to form, he was certainly used to the operation set. Shock Troopers routinely were the elite hand picked troopers sent out on suicide missions, with few friendlies, many enemies, and nothing stopping them from murdering aside from your own grit, determination, and battlefield ingenuity. Something these traitors severely lacked since they thought it better to hide behind civilian populations and cry wolf to the rest of the galaxy. Because they lacked the spine to face the Sith head on, and more importantly, then boasted about how they were superior in every way.

Damian knew better, and today he'd show them all why the Sith were still here.

He stepped up to the pod that had been set for his specific boarding party. Several other boarding pods were all set up to hit the vessel in a wave. Other pods had several missions, disabling the ship's reactor, gaining control over engineering and then life support, crippling the ship's ability to launch any counter attack by destroying it's primary link for the fire control systems and killing any gunners that resisted. Only his pod was selected for the specific mission of rescuing the Empress. He'd remembered his orders from Shaper, and would follow them to the letter.

He was to protect and serve her like she was Shaper himself, and ensure she was returned entirely unharmed.

Various other shock troopers would board other pods as they all did last minute weapons and gear checks. Seals were checked, weapons were inspected, blades sheathed, and troopers strapped into their pods as they would wait for the launch directive. Damian would eye his own lightsaber, a new construction that Shaper had him complete before moving onto this new mission. It was simple, being made with cast Phrik-B but otherwise unremarkable in its construction or red hue. Damian had chosen the metal for its absolute raw strength and durability, a symbol of something he considered he'd need in the coming years. His will would have to be as unbreakable as it had ever been, and his body doubly so. The Shaper would not be a forgiving master, especially considering he was the Emperor of the Sith. Damian did not want to disappoint, especially in the face of having received gifts such as his.

Damian himself would strap into the pod as the vessel readied for launch, noting the passengers as they boarded and soon the ship would seal its launch bay doors. And in seconds the pods would launch into space, maneuvering through the debris field as though ballet dancers across a stage. They would soon be en-route to the vessel, firing initial bursts from thrusters before resorting to only correctional jets to avoid oncoming debris. They would let momentum carry them and hopefully the star fighter jockies would keep them covered from any would be imperial trying to earn a name for themselves. Thankfully the accelerations for now were minimal, meaning the passengers wouldn't be jostled so much by the maneuvers.

Damian knew that would change very, very soon.

 

[Lady Marrow]

​

Tag: Areyon
Objective: III - Front Hydra
Equipment: The Marrow Blade
Themes: Here

Drop-ships were never Lady Marrow's favorite mode of transportation, cramped, uncomfortable noisy things that roared like some gargantuan beast as they came under fire. Chaos would ensue as Sith Empire Fighter and bomber craft would begin their attempt at harrying the ground, softening its defense with bombardment to create a safe place to land, all the while the batteries and vehicles below would desperately fire at the incoming ships to prevent their coming. Sith Empire ships were blown out of the air, barely a third of them would make their successful runs while the flaming carcasses of the others would unceremoniously slam into the earth as little more than shrapnel or the occasional fireball which would erupt taking the better part of a building or part of an open road with it.

Lady Marrow hadn't seen the streets of Muunilist before, yet alone from above. It was a bizarre thing, a planet rife with history painted into the walls of its capitols' buildings. The city seemed, sad. It didn't want to be part of this, so it seemed only right that they liberate such a place from creatures who would attack temples, seeing them burned underfoot, people slain in droves on forgettable desert planets. The memory of pain would well up in Lady Marrow's chest at the thought of her time on Malachor... but today was going to be different. This time she had trained, and this time... she was ready for what the galaxy had to offer.

No sooner than she let out a sigh, she could hear the pilot saying that they were clear to make a landing, allowing the contingent of Sith Dropships that had been circling beyond defensive weapon range to begin their descent. Weapons would boom around them, the occasional bolt slamming on one of their shields as they careened towards the surface, still under fire, but light enough to make the drop possible... Until alarms started bleating. "They have missile lock!" - "Shit! Scramble!" The Dropship would heave as a hidden battery would unleash a payload, slamming into several drop-ships erupting them into little more than pseudomatter until finally, one of them would slam into the wing of her own ship...

Lady Marrow would grip the side of the ship with a death like hold, the ground racing up to meet her through the transpirasteel outer shell as she knew that should they land like this, it wasn't going to be fun for her. Hauling herself towards the exit, she would draw her marrow blade, focus, and allow the blade to extend. The ephemeral read blade of pure darkside energy would tear from its socket causing her to gasp at the pain, it sucked at her force energy against her will, tearing it from her until she could begin to give it willingly, soothing the rabid weapon as its beam would become a radioactive green. Raising an arm against the pull and spin of the ship, she would slice into the lock that held the door closed, and her, along with twenty other creatures would be sucked from the ship with the pressure change as the dropship would plummet to the streets below.

The men and women with her would operate jump packs to route their freefall, Lady Marrow, did no such thing, simply tucking into a ball as she would spin and roll, curling her tails around herself as she would ensure no shrapnel or stray things would hit her. Unfurling the moment before she landed on all fours, a large gash through her right shoulder... "Ow..." she exclaimed, unsure of when something had caught her, it would begin to mend, but it was a painful gash, reducing the strength in that arm significantly.

It was clear among those that landed, they were nowhere near their landing zone, knocked off course, bailing at the whim of the wind as fifteen of the surviving crew from the ship landed around her. What had intended to be a battalion, was little more than a squad. But they would make do. Lady Marrow would begin to make her way towards the capitol buildings with haste... They needed to end the leadership to stop the death. Taking the back-roads and alleys as they would sleuth their way towards some of the inner city, only to step out onto a street facing what appeared to be a soldier donned in silver armour. 'Mandalorian?' Lady Marrow would think to herself, knowing little about the nuances between armours and their types.

The men behind and around her would take up defensive positions, as she-herself would remain somewhat exposed. Her tails swaying behind her in excitement at the sight of someone unknown. An opportunity to learn new things as her Lavender plum skin bristled. Her usual dress shorder breaking around her shins and into the replication of some form of bodysuit to cover her slender dancerlike form. Her weapon in her hand, not engaged as she would smile warmly and sincerely at the silverclad man and his fellows.

"Uhm, hi! I'm sorry but we have to get past here, you see, I don't want many people to be hurt. But if we could just get to that building over there, this fight will end. And we can get to being friends!" And who knows... This could be fun

 

[Darth Strosius]

Objective: Sabotage the communications, Blind the enemy
Location: Landing on Ord Thoden
Allies: TSE
Enemies: NIO
Tags: Aurelion Nova / Valen Arenais
----------------------------------------------

Ord Thoden.

Surprisingly enough, it wasn't the frontline of their newest attack where Alisteri had found himself. Rather it was on a...sabotage mission. Throughout the war with the New Imperial Order, their regimented command and communications had meant that they could go up against the Legionnaires with a startling efficiency. Their communication had kept them alive and in the fight, and now they were going to sever that lifeline. Cutting off the heathens from one another wouldn't be easy by any means.

Thankfully though, he wouldn't be alone in laying waste to the broadcasting arrays.

"We're landing in two minutes. The ship will stay in stealth while we're gone, but there is no telling how long we'll be able to stay undetected. Seeing as this is the traitors that we're talking about, probably not long." Alisteri looked up from the holodisplay of the broadcasting facility at the other two Sith that would be undertaking this assignment with him. Valen Arenais and Aurelion Nova , two Sith that he had never worked with before.

Hopefully their reputations were right about them. "Unfortunately we're not supposed to attract too much attention, so we should try to handle whatever guards there are quietly. Personally I have no qualms with fighting each and every heathen on this planet, but that's not what we're here to do."

Next time, perhaps.

The ship slowed as it began its descent, ready to let its passengers embark on their mission. He idly glanced back at the several bags packed with explosives and various sorts of emp equipment and weaponry. Each had one purpose, to sabotage this facility.

 

[Alina Tremiru]

Objective: Rescue Ingrid L'lerim
Location: Space
Equipment: See Sig
Allies: TSE/EE
Enemies: NIO / GA
Tags: Kuben Woods | Caarlyle Rausgeber

Once more into the fire.

War reared it's ugly head all over again. The temporary cease fire had been pushed aside. All across the galaxy fires ignited all over again, all wanting to consume the Empire. But this time the Empire was setting it's own. The nameless of the rank and file passed by the young Lord as she made her way to one of the many drop pods. Their mission was simple. Find the Eternal Empress and get her out. The Eternals had always been good allies of the Sith, so it was only natural to try and save one of theirs.

Armed with just her lightsaber she took a seat, one leg folding over the other. Arms crossed over her chest. Eyes closed. She could feel it all around her. The rapid heartbeat of soldiers preparing to fight. Of those knowingly walking into hell. Fear, perhaps, but determination to get the job done always won out within these ranks. Her own ranks. It only seemed fitting with their objective she bring along her own House Guard. A strike force good at protecting VIPs.

Beside her one of the commanders of this unit took his own seat. A large, imposing figure. Wookie, once. Sangnir now. Her guard was calm. No racing heartbeat. This was another day for them. Her glowing golden eyes opened after a moment, focused on another that had boarded this particular pod. A Sith, by all appearances. Damien Frost. An apprentice of the new Emperor, as it were. She flashed a kind, fanged smile.

"You know the plan, correct?"

 

[Tranquility]

Fleet
1 - Sentience
1-Vison's Might
6 NZ HASS-1A Drop Pods
9 squadrons of Taera Class Swarm Drones
Objective:

It was time to rescue the empress, and the former head of the Zweihander Union's Intelligence was ready to pull off a prison break. Through various intelligence it was believed that the Empress was on board the NIV Tregessar. So that was their target. The two vessals moved in stealth towards the enemy, so that they could get into range to launch their boarding pods. Then it would be time to create chaos but for now the vessals embraced the silence of space flying carefully and stealth fully towards their target. It was time to show the NIO that they could not just have the Empress of the Eternal Empire. The perks of a Corporate Defense Force is that they didn't fall in the perview of the Empire Military and thus were free to venture towards the Empress and rescue here. Ingrid L'lerim would be free if Tranquility had anything to say about it. Perhaps she would respect A.I Rights if one rescued her.

 

[Hâwmâr Lurais]

Muunilinst Ground - Trenchline Hellgate
---
New Imperial Strike Force
All-Massassi Cohort
865 ABY

​

Hâwmâr brought the cigarette up to his lips. He breathed in deep, letting the smoke settle into his lungs before letting it escape through his nose. The chilling sensation of the nicotine wracked it’s way through his body, earning an involuntary shiver as his eyes scanned the sightline in front of him. Even now, he could make out the distant silhouettes of Sith Imperial forces milling about as they began to properly mass for their assault. He wondered many things about this operation. Who the enemy commander was, what ordinance were they bringing, could they expect any air resistance, so on and so forth. He had many questions, but not one of them he could properly answer.

The only one he knew he had any say in was if the trench would hold, and frankly, it would hold only as well as the guard did. The batteries hadn’t started pounding away at their position yet, New Imperial or Sith Imperial, so he figured that was a small victory in the mid-day sun. It was a clear day, an awful type to muddy with war. Another drag from the smoke and he let his sight lean wide, catching the golden rays of the sun and the sound of winds whipping over the outskirts of the city.

He hadn’t served during the initial New Imperial occupation of the world, but he had heard the stories. That of Gladius Company and the brave 501st, the lives lost, the brotherhoods formed. He hadn’t served on the right side of history back then, at the very least. He was proud he could say that has changed. A scant few years ago and he would have been on the otherside of this lineup, viewing members of the stormtrooper corps through the sightlines of a Judicator, just as he was sure there were Legionaries sighting up the Cohort from across the way, just the same. Time made strangers of us all, however. He was glad to be the Hâwmâr he was now. He was glad to be calling his shots for the New Imperial Order.

He was propped up on the firestep, just overlooking the soon to be killing grounds, leaning up on his toes with his chest resting against the dirt wall in front of him. He ashed the cigarette out on the elbow rest in front of him, watching the embers burn out and die, before picking his bucket helmet from the floor and putting it on his head. He pulled the straps on tight under his chin before slinging his blaster rifle over his shoulder. He walked, rather calmly, down the trenchline as he passed plethora of other Sith Purebloods. They were doing all sorts of things. Checking their weapons, fiddling with power packs, and setting up emplacement guns. He even caught sight of a couple playing games of cards and chance between one another. Some of them were reading off news reports to their squads from their datapads, and still others were getting in what they were sure would be their last meals in. Through it all, nothing but the chitter of the Sith language rambling up and down. From the lowest private to the most decorated officer. Mixed blood of human, rodian, tweek, and many others, but the heritage of the people of Korriban, Vjun, and Yavin is what bound them all together.

As he walked, peeking his eyes again and again over the edge of the trench, as if waiting to find a position that he liked. As if the glints of their rifles on the otherside weren’t quite threatening enough from the angle he was previously. He reached up and took the small icon around his neck into his hand, rubbing his thumb across it’s ridges.

May Yavin preserve us.

There was a sudden intensity to the entire trenchline, as if the reality of the situation had suddenly set in. Men were moving from their games and entertainment to the edges of the trench, pulling themselves up and settling their rifles and machine blasters. Training them down the firing lane. Shouts were echoing down the line of “make ready!”, and Hâwmâr followed suit.

He wedged himself between two other troopers, armored and equipped very similarly to himself, and brought his SFR blaster rifle to his shoulder, peering down the sights at the distant gleams of Sith Imperial Legionaries making their way across the city leadup. Supported by armored columns and various other implements of war.

He waited for the call to fire.

And then, the chorus of blaster artillery began to boom out.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

M U U N I L I N S T​

BEFORE THE BATTLE

"On final approach," intoned the shuttle pilot. His hand moved to flip several switches on the console as the New Imperial shuttle he piloted jettisoned out of hyperspace above the idyllic world of Muunilinst, blue ion engines flaring brightly as he increased sublight speed. As they drew near, the vague shapes of other vessels became less abstract against the blue and green of the planet, the distinct silhouettes of New Imperial destroyers projecting a vision of strength and security. Smaller shapes, starfighters, buzzed about the larger vessels like flies around a corpse, a squadron breaking patrol formation on an intercept course with the shuttle.​

​

The squadron leader, his voice as gruff as his fighter, hailed the shuttle with a commanding tone; "We have you in our sights now, please identify." The co-pilot leaned over and pressed a button below the comm receiver, securing the connection and opening their side of the line. "This is Shuttle 4787, transmitting clearance codes and manifest log." The co-pilot pressed another series of buttons, which began the transference. After several seconds of waiting, the squadron leader replied, "Shuttle 4787, you've been indicated on our arrival schedule, please continue on your present course to Harnaidan spaceport."​

​

"Acknowledged, acquiring flight path now." At first, the pilot input the coordinates relayed to him by the intercepting squadron, which had now flown back onto their patrol path, but those coordinates were soon keyed out and replaced by a new set from a remote source planetside. Neither pilot seemed concerned by this and simply adjusted their ship to align with this new trajectory, bypassing the ships in orbit and descending down through Muunilinst's atmosphere.​

​

Instead of landing at Harnaidan's spaceport, the shuttle was instead rerouted to land on a platform adjacent to the IMP500 Stock Exchange. Both of the pilots disengaged from their flight harnesses and moved from the cockpit and into the passenger cabin. They silently passed two cloaked individuals, one of which was vastly larger than any of them, and pressed the button to disengage the boarding ramp. The ramp swung down to thud against the ground, pressurized air hissing in obscuring white clouds. Waiting for the shuttle was a small contingent of security personnel, the commander of which moved ahead of the group to speak with the pilots as they departed.​

​

"All is well," spoke the pilot, "They did not suspect." The commander nodded knowingly, "Then all is as planned, they should be arriving soon." Just at that moment, the warning klaxons began to wail as the Sith invasion force poured into the system, exactly as predicted.​

​

BATTLE IS JOINED

In the chaotic scramble to meet the Sith incursion, all eyes were fixated on the danger that pressed in from above. The security team about-faced and hustled back towards the platform entrance, the commander and the pilots staying behind for a moment as the two hooded figures emerged from the shuttle's interior. A great burst of white smoke rushed out behind them, blanketing the entire platform and obscuring the vision of prying eyes if but for a brief moment. When the smoke cleared, only the commander and the pilots remained.​

​

"It seems everything is moving as I predicted," spoke the larger of the two hooded figures under the awning of the platform entrance, the security team opening the door with their clearance codes and cylinders. The team marched inside, followed by the two individuals. Now that they were inside, the larger drew back his hood to reveal the face of Darth Carnifex; former Dark Lord and Emperor of the very same Empire that was laying siege to Muunilinst at that very moment.​

​

"We will not have long, I suspect the window for our surprise has closed." Carnifex cast his glance sidelong to the other at his side, a man he had known under a very different name in the past.​

​

Darth Empyrean ​

 

[Zakaria Black]

Zakaria Black
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
B A S T I O N

​

R A V E L I N , B A S T I O N

Zakaria sat at his desk in his office on Ravelin, having been stationed there following the Sith Empire's failed attempt to retake Bastion from the New Imperial Order years prior. Since then it had been a busy past few years, maintaining and bolstering Bastion's defenses as well as continuing restoration efforts to the capital city. He let out a sigh as he leaned back in his seat briefly closing his eyes as he raised a hand up to gently rub his temples, lowering his hand back down as he opened up an eye to eye a picture on his desk - his godchild Ava who had lost her mother during the invasion of Bastion standing beside him as he was knelt down, still smiling despite all that she had to experience. Two invasions of her home, the loss of her mother - such adversities for a child to be forced to endure, and yet there she was, doing her best to keep her head held high, his motivation to continue working hard to atone for his past crimes as a soldier. He huffed quietly as he leaned forward, finishing up a report as he reached over to hit a button on his desk. Just as he was about to hit it, a robotic voice would crackle to life.​

​

Bzzzt... General Black. Your presence at the command center is required immediately. A situation has come up. ​

​

A situation? That was unsettling news to the man who hadn't heard a situation come up since Bastion was being attacked. The general would push off his seat as he stood up, scooping his helmet off his desk as he tucked it underneath one arm and made his way to the command center. Officers and staff were rushing through the hallways as the general towered over everyone rushing past him as he finally reached his destination. The door would slide open as Zakaria stepped in, a hologram of Muunilist being projected. At a glance, Zakaria already assumed what was happening with the Imperator being on the planet already. Command staff were already discussing amongst themselves the nature of the situation as Zakaria grit his teeth, already recognizing that the loss of Muunilist would cut off a critical line along the Braxant Run to Bastion, meaning if it were to be lost, everything they worked for and put forth blood, sweat, and tears over would be for naught. That could not be allowed to happen.​

​

Zakaria's grip on his helmet would tighten out of reflex before relaxing as he stepped forward, listening in on the chatter as they formally declared that intelligence had been received that the Sith Empire had indeed made landfall on Muunilist. While some of the other generals were hesitant to offer up their troops to lend aid, having grown comfortable with their positions and posts, Zakaria stepped forward as he spoke, " I will be taking the Forty-Ninth Legion to Muunilist as reinforcements. We cannot afford to waste any further time here discussing who will be going if you have not resolved to deploy immediately " The other generals glanced at each other before looking at the grizzled man before simply remaining silent as a sign of agreement. The rest of the present staff would acknowledge as an encrypted message was directed to Muunilist, letting them know that reinforcements were being scrambled to aid.​

​

Zakaria lifted his helmet up from underneath his arm and settled it on his head, turning it left and right till it fit snug and turned to leave the room, activating his comms to his troops as he relayed immediate orders for deployment along with a naval detachment. His troops began the necessary preparations as the general made his way to the hangar, accompanied by a squad as he stepped onto a transport that promptly took off for the nearest vessel cleared to depart with his troops. ​

​

He raised his arm up to his chest as he tapped a few buttons on his gauntlet, making a call - the sound of a young girl would be heard on the other line, " Uncle Black! I was beginning to wonder where your call was. " The general chuckled a bit as he responded, " I'm sorry Ava, was just sidetracked with work. I just wanted to call and let you know that I'll be leaving Ravelin for a little bit. Is your father home? " The sound of the young girl scrambling to her feet and carrying her commlink with her through hallways was heard as she shouted for her father. A man's voice was soon heard as they soon answered, " Zakaria? What is it? " ​

​

The general's voice lowered a bit as he spoke in a more concerned tone, " I'm being deployed to Muunilist. The Sith Empire has been reported attacking there... I suggest you take Ava and move to Nirauan instead. If Muunilist falls, there is a high chance that the Sith Empire takes back Bastion. I need you both to be safe, especially in the event that I don't make it back. " A lengthy silence followed before the voice on the other end spoke back up, " I understand. I'll keep it quiet so Ava doesn't have to worry, but try your best to come back in one piece. Thanks for the heads up Zakaria. " A shuffling of hands and voices was heard before Ava's voice came back, " You said you were going somewhere Uncle Black, and papa said we were going to go somewhere too. " Zakaria gave a light laugh as he spoke, " I recommended to your father to take you somewhere nice as a vacation. As for me, just a work trip. Just promise to be a good girl alright? " " I will! " ​

​

The two would exchange their farewells before the line finally shut off and the general sighed. All he could do was half faith in the Imperial Order to stand strong and hold fast till he arrived. The transport would finally arrive at the ship as it flew into the hangar, the vessel soon taking off into orbit slowly as it was rendezvousing with the rest of the battle group. ​

[ Theme ]

 

[Bernard]

Drawing no dividend from time's to-morrows.
In the great hour of destiny they stand,
Each with his feuds, and jealousies, and sorrows.
----
Blackest Hand​

Harnaidan, Muunilinst
+0:43 h after First Contact
Damask Plaza, Southern Cultural Centre

BLUFOR: GA, NIO, Ishida Ashina
OPFOR: TSE, Open

Rain prattled against the tan canvas stretching over the peddler's stall. Hundreds of other tents joined in the soft cacophony of sounds. They'd remained as remnants of a bazaar held in honour of the ongoing reparations. Most occupants had long fled, leaving it deserted and the tents empty. They now stood in chaotic rows, covering the entire plaza and turning it into a maze. What little colour they introduced drowned beneath the rain and dark skies into faded shades. Surrounding the plaza on all sides, black skycutters loomed to wall the bazaar in, their windows darkened. The sight set an unsettling scene, not unlike that of a ghost town.

Bernard had taken shelter under the tent of a small stall on the northern edge of the plaza. He sat with his back to the narrow corridor between the stalls, just out of view of anyone passing, head resting against dark wood. One of his arms lay limp at his side, clutched by the other where a bacta patch covered a fresh blast mark.

He wasn't alone, however. A Muun child huddled next to him. The kid was one of the survivors of the initial attack. Dropships had descended on the skycutter of a major banking clan and the battle quickly erupted thereafter. New Imperial Stormtroopers clashed with the crimson legionnaires on multiple stories, trapping civilians in the middle. Bernard had been preparing for battle, and, at first, he'd joined in the 'cutters defence. Yet, as the situation grew increasingly dire, he made the choice to save lives and let the Imperials handle the fighting instead. He was a Marshal at heart, after all.

Together with another Padawan, he'd organized a handful of the bureau's occupants and made for Harnaidan's civilian centres. When the Sith descended on the city, they'd prioritized strategic locations for their assault. The banking clans and Muunilinst's political seat of power were hit first. The spaceports came second. Sith forces were concentrated around logistical and military targets, leaving places like a festival bazaar largely empty, which meant they presented the safest route to Harnaidan's bunkers.

The Muun kid tugged at Bernard's poncho to get his attention.

Bernard grunted and acquiesced to the kid's demand.

"What is it?" His voice was low, barely above a whisper.

The kid pointed towards the wall opposite them. Bernard trailed the finger's path to a mirror. In it, his eyes locked with a black visor, set into a crimson helmet.

He drew a sharp breath, a sudden rush of adrenaline jump-starting his system. The wound faded into the background in a heartbeat, and he scrambled to his feet, snatching his blaster off the ground. He slammed his hand onto the stall, smashing the vegetables arrayed there, with the blaster's barrel trained on the Legionnaire and fired. The legionnaire had enough time to raise his own blaster but dropped with a distorted cry before he could return fire. His body clattered onto the street.

The blaster's echo reverberated across the plaza. Footsteps erupted in the distance, plasteel against wet stone. A nautolan poked her head out of the stall opposite Bernard's. She looked at the Marshal with uncertainty.

"Ishida, we've got to move!" Bernard yelled, already clambering over the counter to get out into the street.