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

[Scourge Harz]

Objective: Win The War
Allies: NIO | Caarlyle Rausgeber | LT-137 | Gallius Orcana | Albrecht F. Herlock | Commodore Curtis Rheardon
Enemies: TSE | Grand Moff Decimus | Moff Drybis Lyken | Seela Leini | Kuben Woods

————————————​

The Admiral began to grow more frustrated each second that his ships stayed in hyperspace.

“How long till we exit onto the battlefield?”

His stare turned downward, away from the viewport. Looking down at the command bridge crew, it seemed as if no one had an answer. Though these engagements began to dwindle down, the time of war was now, and they needed to be ready.

“Someone answer me, now!”

“We are one minute twenty-five seconds out, sir.”

Turning around, he looked down upon the man who finally spoke up. It was a young man, couldn’t be any older than early twenties. Is this what the New Imperial Order had become, a military only enlisting soldiers and workers who were barley young enough to survive on their own?

As soon as this fight was over, he would put in a request for more…skilled individuals. These ones needed more training.

Not answering the man, the Admiral turned back to the blue-white blur that was hyperspace. Soon they would be exiting and engaging the Sith, hopefully giving the Imperials one big push towards the capital.

Within a short amount of time, The Flying Dutchman, along with the rest of his large fleet, exited hyperspace and onto the battlefield. Opening up a direct comm to the rest of the fleet, he let them know his plan.

“Imperial ships, this is Admiral Des Harz. My ships have all exited hyperspace, and are here at your assistance. Let’s run the Sith into the ground.”

Placing his organic and robotic hands behind his back, he watched as the war unfolded in front of the fleet.

 

[Viers Connory]

//: Objective //: Blood Hunter //:
//: Target //: Alina Tremiru //:
//: Allies //: NIO/GA //:

​

The grip around her ankle was tight and hardened. This time around, Viers was truly surprised by the speed of the Vampire. She knew Alina was quick, but she had not been this fast before. Alina swung the girl like a rag doll, and Viers pulled the Force inward, strengthening every fiber in her body. Pain shot up through her spine as the bulkhead buckled under the kinetic force behind Viers’ body. A cracking sound brought more pain to the Corellian as she gasped for air, trying to recover from the blow.

Alina didn’t let go, and Viers prepared herself for another swing. She heard the monster’s response through the violent ringing in her head. It didn’t make sense; why would Alina need to be a monster? If she didn’t want to be with the Sith, there were ways of escape - the Jedi; anyone would have helped her. Spitting blood, Viers cleared her throat. “What happened to saving the children of the Empire?” She choked the words, spitting more blood from her throat. A part of her worried, she knew the blow against the durasteel walls must have done more damage internally than she’d like to realize. The Force once more swelling inside of her, trying to mend or detour any pain.

The pointed end of the quarterstaff jabbed forward, attempting to pierce the wrist of the hand holding her in place. Another attack like the one previously would be her end. There was so much more she needed to accomplish. She wanted to know where she came from, who her mother was, and where her mentor had gone. There were people that she had found value in, Dagon, Aeris, Kaska, Viera, even the weird girl Violet. Viers kept the fond memories close as she focused her mind on getting free and ending Alina’s life. As she sought to stab the sharp end of the quarterstaff through Alina’s wrist, her free leg would attempt to kick the woman in her knee, hoping to distract her.

“You’re just a coward, like the rest of the Empire!” ​

 

[Alina Tremiru]

Objective: Rescue Ingrid L'lerim
Location: Space
Equipment: See Sig
Allies: TSE/EE
Enemies: NIO / GA
Tags: Viers Connory (Engaging)

The grip on Viers' ankle tightened further, like a vice trying to crack bone. If it wasn't for the sharp point cutting through Alina's wrist and severing the tendons that held her, the Jedi likely would of been slammed into another wall. Instead, the Vampiress hissed, pulling her arm back as she dropped the other. Golden eyes stayed narrowed on the younger woman, but where there had been anger in their last fight, there was just pity. For the Jedi and her bliss of ignorance.

"There are things truly frightening in this galaxy." Alina didn't go into detail. Her wrist knitted itself together as Anima from her unburned guard flowed out. His last breath to protect his charge. Thank you. Her gaze turned to the figure. She flexed her fingers before taking the hilt of her saber. The blade sprang into existence, the red plasma burning bright. Coward. It was fitting. She had seen what the true monsters of the Sith could do. On what happened to Csilla. Of what Carnifex had done with those who died. They were beyond what she thought was monsters.

There wasn't a word for it. All she knew was the primal dread she felt in her core. There was no stopping them. No controlling them. They were like forces of nature, and the only option was to try and survive. Right now, surviving meant being useful to the Empire. She lifted her blade. Both hands gripped the hilt. Her legs shifted, tensed.

In the blink of an eye she was gone, closing the distance back towards Viers with a single, powerful thrust.

 

[Caarlyle Rausgeber]

Allies: Scourge Harz | Gallius Orcana | Trajan Fett | Rexus Wenck| Albrecht F. Herlock | LT-137 | Viers Connory
Enemies: Ingrid L'lerim | Darth Banshee | Alina Tremiru | Grand Moff Decimus | Moff Drybis Lyken | Seela Leini | Kuben Woods
Objective: MALICIOUS ENDEAVOUR
Location: Orinackra System, NIV Confidence, Command Deck

​

Carlyle looked at the Empress with a mix of disgust and abject confusion. "Are you daft?!" Rausgeber barked, "I'm letting you go, be free! Get out of my sight!" Carlyle spat at the wounded monarch. Her slights at him now slid off as he gazed over her hideous form, "I offer you naught but safe passage from my ship and you deny and decry it." Carlyle growled at her. Guilt was ridden within him. Clearly she was deranged. Perhaps COMPNOR or the Alliance had broken something within her. Made her snap totally and utterly. There was no reasoning with her. Were her promises of a Pa'Desh true or not was irrelevant at this point in time. She reeked of.... Of something. It was so utterly and hideously offputting, and he could not lay a finger on it. "Just... Just get out of my sight!" Carlyle snapped at her. "I won't hear any of your ravings."

Carlyle turned back to the crew, who'd been watching the debacle with some wry confusion. Upon Carlyle's gaze unto the crew they shuffled back to their work, "Oncoming!" A call from the starboard crewpit barked. "Enemy vessel! Approaching at dead ahead!" Carlyle scowled and looked in the viewport, watching the oncoming vessel. Wankers. The lot of them. And all drawn by this one here. The Empress of wankers herself.

"Engage fire!" Rausgeber barked back to the crew, "Open fire, and take evasive action, give them a taste of the portside batteries!" Rausgeber snarled to the crew. The Confidence began to engage in an emergency lurch to port, it's portside batteries opening a devastating broadside onto the oncoming Sith vessel. The command bridge's occupants began to uncontrollably swing, and fall into the consoles. Carlyle only maintained stability cliniging to a pillar, until the inertia corrected itself. This was unheard of. Was the Empress truly that critical of a prize? What value did someone who gravely underestimated their position hold? The calculations of it, were dizzying alone. He needed solace. Advice. The situation was so volatile, unpredictable. He could not understand it. Carlyle turned to the Mandalorian, and eyed him up. Listening to his pitch. "I didn't think they would gamble this much on a two bit dictator." He conceded, eyeing the Mandalorian's visor evenly. "But I certainly sense the wisdom in your plan."

Carlyle approached the man, straining against the feeling of the shifting deck plating, "I concede to your reasoning," The Admiral Regent mused. He felt a distinct pit of emptiness well within him. Here he was. Willingly surrendering a vessel to a Mandalorian. His vessel. As head of the navy. Unheard of years ago, and yet these were the times he lived in, "But, a full evacuation at this stage would be..." he turned to the crew, "Perhaps a little... Too discerning of our capabilities and intention." He paused, and eyed Commodore Damming, "Commodore." He addressed the man as he straightened himself, and stood to attention. "You are to the bait of this new stratagem, and the crux of it." Rausgeber barked, "Prepare an executive pod to the Grimace." Carlyle barked, before pausing, "Until such a time as the good Mr Kurze will be in command. Follow his lead."

Carlyle's attentions turned to Kurze, "Mr Kurze, do not deviate. Do not dither." He then paused, looked at Damming and then leaned in, "And don't feel the need to keep him around if he fails." Carlyle added, before moving toward the edge of the command deck. His gaze caught on that of the Empress. "Your Majesty," He addressed one final time, "I think you've gone mad." Carlyle mused, before departing the deck for one of the adjacent escape pod bays. He left a trail of the monarchs blood underfoot. Before keying in the coordinates for the Grimace. With Rausgeber's departure, the confidence of the Confidence's mission now lay in one mans hand. Trajan Kurze.


NIV Confidence | Cuirassier Cruiser [Now in Trajan Kurze's hands]

NIV Grimace | Cuirassier Cruiser

NIV Engagement | Curassier Cruiser

1x Staltwalt Cruiser

4x Escolta Class Frigates

8x Warrior-II Class Corvettes

5x Cacadore Class Corvettes

Sorry for no fighter compliment. It's a post work post. And I am very tired. Will provide later. Promise.

 

[Shuklaar Kyrdol]

HYDRA​

Shuklaar Kyrdol, Harnaidan City Spaceport Tower​

Friendly Units:​

• Vuhyr'galaar-class Heavy Gunship squadron Beroya
• Jaig'alaar Fighter-bomber squadron Asmulr
• Kyr'galaar Multi-role Fighter squadron Kalikir
• Vornskr Mirshir-Jurkad Rammikade company Kyramud
• "Netra b' Sivkiryav" Jurkad Verde Mechanized Infantry Battalion, Aran Netra's HQ Company "Sivkirayav 6" (en route)
• "Ori'beskaryc" Jurkad Verde Tank Battalion, "Ori'beskaryc Aurek" (en route)

Ally Tag(s): Arctus Silmar | Eva Betrik ​

Enemy Tag(s): DECEASED Aron Gowrie | Kar Bakar | Vilaz Munin ​

Neutral Tag(s): Kiara Ayres | Bright4 | Varn Barakis ​

​

Spoiler: Equipment

• Armor:​
  • Beskar'gam
    • Shoulder mounts:
      • NML-02VTB Nano missile Launcher​
    • Back mounts:
      • A-03S Verpine Shatter Autocannon​
      • MML-02S Miniaturized Missile Launcher
        • 8x Cretanr'ika-lcass Guided Plasma Micro-missile​
        • 8x Striilir'ika-class Brilliant Micro-missile​
    • Left Vambrace:
      • CP-03V CryoBan Projector​
      • PC-05V Plasma Caster​
      • TBP-01V Tractor-Pressor Beam Projector​
    • Right Vambrace:
      • METL-02V Micro Energy Torpedo Launcher​
      • MML-01V Miniaturized Missile Launcher
        • 2x Cretanr'ika-lcass Guided Plasma Micro-missile​
        • 2x Striilir'ika-class Brilliant Micro-missile​
• Implant:​
  • 'Rammikad' Enhancement Package​
  • 'Gar Tkiriyr' Neural Interface
• Weapons:​
  • 2x M-06S 'Skirata' Mra'jitr​
  • Bes'phatir​
  • DP-02 Class-D Heavy Disruptor Pistol w/ 'Kyrayc Sur'haai' 1-4x Short Range Optics System​
  • FL-01 Verpine Shatter Flechette Launcher w/ 'Kyrayc Sur'haai' 1-12x Medium Range Optics System and UPC-06 Underbarrel Plasma Caster​

​

​

"Buy'ce gal, buy'ce tal​

Verbor'ad ures aliit​

Mhi draar baat'i meg'parjii'se​

Kote lo'shebs'ul narit."​

​

The coppery stench of blood and ozone filled the air. Corpses of New Imperial Order Stormtroopers and local law enforcement both littered the entrance to the building's main security room. The blaster cannon turret that once defended the approach lay barely attached to it's ceiling mount, sparking for effect. There was one working holocam in the room, it'd been left intact on purpose. Theatrics weren't his specialty, but Shuklaar knew the benefit of a demonstration. Sometimes, however, people were just too shabla stupid for their own good, and the technician on the other end was either confident that the few remaining shabuire left inside would save him, or he thought the blast door was going to hold. Either way, he was dead wrong. ​

​

Shuklaar glanced at the squad's technician as he worked on getting the blast door that stood between them and the security room. "Din'kartay." The man see-sawed his hand left to right and then held up five fingers. "See if you cut that down." The man nodded. Sighing, Shuklaar decided to try talking the di'kute inside down again. He clicked the transmit button on the intercom and took a breath. "You know, ad'ika, my offer of surrender doesn't stand if we have to open this shabla door ourselves," he sighed before letting go of the intercom switch. "We're coming into that room one way or another." ​

​

"We don't have a lot of time. Ukran's reporting that we might have incoming before long, and we don't even have the recon droids up so who the shab knows what else's is out there. No time to get soft in your old age, alor," chided Ragar, impatiently standing by his technician, his RR-03 Repeating Ripper held at alert carry. Shuklaar could see the what Ragar was telling him over the Manda tactical interface, and he'd heard Besh platoon's ver'alor's report over the comms as well. Ragar was right, they didn't have time to waste dealing with di'kute. ​

​

"Well, that's what I get for trying to be nice," he sighed. He nodded at the blast door. Ragar nodded. Both men warmed up their plasma casters, and switching them to 'precision' mode, they began cutting. The hiss of displaced air and of metal being cut drowned out all other sounds, the orange glow from the plasma weapons bathing the room and everyone in it. The bodies were given a sort of surreal light, reminding him of why he'd even bothered to offer surrender in the first place. Enough people had died, no more had to. They weren't butchers, they had a job to do, they only killed if someone got in their way. Why this di'kute insisted on being in their way bewildered him. ​

​

The cutout their made groaned, but still held firm in place. Ragar gave it that one last stimulus it needed with a quick pulse of his shatter beam projector. The cutout flew inward with a screech of metal on metal before it impacted against something inside with a resounding dull thud. Just like that, stimulants, augmented reflexes, instinct and decades of experience driving them, they stormed in. The throaty staccato of Ragar's ripper was the first sound that really occurred to him out of the cacophony. That and the snap crackle of a Class-D disruptor bolt snuffing the life out of the unfortunate soul it hit. ​

​

By the time Shuk was in, most of the shabuire were already dead. His scanner easily picked out the technician hiding behind his console with the vain hope that'd provide adequate cover or concealment. It did neither. He vaulted over the first row of consoles effortlessly, and he was on the cowering man in short order. Shuklaar wasn't a particularly tall man, even in armor, nor was the technician short or slight. Cowering as he was, it wasn't hard for Shuk to literally hoist him to his feet, bringing him face to buy'ce, "You know the problem with you aruetii? Everything's always got to be difficult."​

​

The man futilely struggled in his grasp, the look of a man who very much knew what awaited him, but was going to fight it out of sheer desperation. Sighing, he dropped the man, and knowing the room to be clear, turned his attention to the main console, testing a few keys. No response. It was locked. Without seeking his permission, he dragged the technician's ID card, uniform, man and all to the reader and scanned it. The display came to life. "Was that so shabla hard?" he asked, annoyance edging into his voice. "If the two squads outside didn't stop us, why the shabla haran would the one in here do anything different?"​

​

Naturally, there was no answer. Shaking his head, he found the controls for the exterior doors, and engaged the lockdown. Holocams showed blast doors lowering into place. He then looked for the exterior address system controls, and finding it a moment later, he took the headset off the technician and held the mic up to his helmet, "Attention aruetii! The spaceport's closed, there will be no evacuations today! Return to your homes and re-think your life choices. Preferably with a good glass of tihaar."​

​

"Nice speech, to shabla bad the di'kute don't have any tihaar. Corellian whiskey just doesn't have the punch," deadpanned Ragar, picking up the terrified technician and shoving him off to one of his men. ​

​

Shuk chuckled, "Well too shabla bad for them, they're going to need a stiff drink." He glanced at the holocam feeds and then added, "Get our droids out and looking. I want to know when something so much as thinks of approaching the space port." He had no idea who the haran was out there, but one thing was for sure, he was not in the mood for any nasty surprises. He was fully expecting to face an armored battalion or an elite commando company, but only a complete mir'sheb di'kute made any assumptions about hostile force compositions. ​

​

"Just don't be surprised when all we see's a bunch of di'kute wanting their tickets refunded," snorted Ragar before turning off to go carry out his orders. ​

​

Shuk just shook his head and raised Silmar on the frequency he'd been given, "Silmar, this is Kyrdol, spaceport tower's ours."​

​

​

Aran Netra, approximately thirty minutes from spaceport tower​

​

Rolling through the city, expecting an ambush around every corner, was not the most invigorating thing he'd ever done. That said, this wasn't nearly the first time he'd done this. It never changed, though, every time it was still a nerve wracking experience. Experience, it turned out, never lessened the creeping sense of dread that your death was waiting around the corner, and that there was nothing you could do about. For as well protected as they were, protection and weapon systems were in a constant war to surpass the other, and only an or'dini of Mythosaurical proportions ever assumed themselves to be invulnerable. ​

​

The key was to always hope for the best and plan for the worst. So that was when scanners picked up an incoming beskar-clad target wielding a lightsaber no less, Aran's response wasn't surprise, but exasperation. "Shabla really? Not one of these dini'la chaakre. Do his buir know that he's running around pretending to be a shabla jetii?" This got a few chuckles out of his command squad. "Sivkiryav 6 to Sivkiryav 6 Rayshe'a, please tell me you see this osik."​

​

"'Lek, alor. You want us to go deal with it?" came the mostly amused, somewhat incredulous response from his headquarter platoon's reconnaissance platoon leader. Aran glanced at the holotable and decided that the didn't quite have the time to lose even part of their recon unit even temporarily. He'd handle this another way. ​

​

"Nayc, carry on, we'll take an altered route," he responded, terminating the connecting and raising third platoon's leader. "6 to 6 Cuir, we've got a bit of a situation I'm going to need you to handle. Think you can handle a, and I can't believe I'm going to say this, Mando'adjetii?" Translated to basic, it probably sounded like it was an affirmation that one could follow the resol'nare wholeheartedly while espousing either of the main force traditions. Aran sure as haran didn't believe so. He didn't need the squad to kill the poor di'kut either, just ward him off or buy enough time for them not to have to deal with him. ​

​

As the convoy made another turn, a squad of Jurkad Verde mecahnized infantry disembarked from their IFV. Their CMD-01 'Gar Cayatr Baar'ur' Combat Medical Droid stayed in formation with them, while their R/IS-01 'Nuhaatyc' Reconnaissance/Infantry Support Droid attempted to stay hidden with it's optical camouflage suite, waiting to see if its assistance was required on order of the squad leader. Said squad leader barked at Kar Bakar to drop his weapon, "Drop the jetii'kad and walk away, ad'ika! No more Mandalorian blood has to be spilled!" ​

 

[Mrurh'en'lase | Hel]

Equipment and NPCs: Hel's Lightclub | The Shroud | The Halo
Objective: Engage the Emperor and Emperor's Apprentice
Targets: Arctus Silmar | Kesran Opadal
Allies: Allyson Locke ​

Muunilist was as much a place of chaos as the legends of the first battle told. It was...chaos incarnate, truly. First that hit her senses was the history of it, the countless deaths of souls that cried out as their former bodies crumbled underfoot and blaster-fire, left as minced meat for the carrion birds. It spoke to her through the Shroud's voice, the shape of that thing nothing more than a distant face in a black cloud in the sky, smiling at her for all time. Next was the...emotions of it. The sadness, anger, frustration, victory...loss. So much loss. If not for the Halo standing nearby atop a clump of ruined metal and flame, clad in its silvered armor with its sword of justice pointed at the face in the sky, Mrurh'en'lase likely would have succumbed to that overwhelming emotion within the first few minutes of stepping out of her shuttle. Especially so when her Master, the cryptic and obscure Allyson Locke, vanished into the void of the Force.

She had yet to understand the workings of Master Locke, even after being deployed with her onto Nar Shaddaa to take down a bunch of scumbag gangsters. To be able to work through the light within the shadows of the darkness was a concept so lost to the mind of the hybrid that it appeared to be magic instead of the Force. She could understand the Force, at least in her own way - or the way that the Shroud and the Halo allowed her to. But, like the she-wolf, Io, transportation from sight from one place to another eluded her comprehension and she avoided even attempting it.

Thusly, she kept to her own form of the shadows, sliding where she could behind cover some ways away from her Master, using her massive frame to take large leaps and steps to remain hidden. The chaos around her helped in that regard, as did her relative obscurity in the grand scale of things. Her presence in the Force - while developing - could not have been that strong to be sensed through the waves of death and carnage. Her skills - while developing - were nothing compared to the true champions of Good and Evil here, the ones who would make a difference in the outcome of this battle. But she had to try, and try she would, if for no one else than herself and Master Locke.

This is what she had to remind herself of each time she took a step closer through the ruins of life and self, taking careful strides towards her target in the distance who gave his orders about in a commanding voice. He was like everything she had feared from a Dark Lord in the tales she wished she read more during her free time. His aegis was blackened metal, tempered by hate and tempting to all those who would seek to don it. As if driving them to...attack the man without his own beckoning for it. His power was undisputed, and his voice carried with it the tenor of a Demon, risen from the deepest reaches of the Netherworld. It would be foolish to fight him where Master Locke would have a much better time, The face in the sky said so in spite of the threats from the warrior of justice below.

But then, her red gaze fell upon the man standing beside him, spoken to in the manner of an apprentice. He was far, but not so far as to make a charge completely useless. And while intimidating as most Sith were, he did not radiate the same aura of "you will never even touch this man as you are today" as the Emperor did. And that was certainly why he was the man she would have to fight, a certainty that was confirmed when her Master, hidden from sight yet calling through the Force, commanded her to strike forth.

And so, she did - albeit hesitantly - moving as gracefully through the rubble of war as her body's massive stature would allow, igniting her lightsaber. The blue blade, of such measures that it carved through the ground beneath her feet, hissed is its movements with the charge, now raised and poised to strike down upon Mrurh'en'lase's target with a powerful swing.

 

[Tranquility]

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

The stealth vessel kept on course dodging the dangers of this system They had almost been caught by a pesky scout but they had avoided them. It was a perk that everything on this ship was a machine. There was no force signature for the pesky organic force users to pick up on. She had to do this quick. Well if they wanted to get away with it that is. Suddenly the void of space was full of Drones, 216 - Taera Class Swarm Drones suddenly swarmed the sky and clouded the area with their presence as they dropped out of the Vison's Might with ease. Spewing out of the cleaver designed ports of the Visions Might. While this happened the more dangerous move 6 drop pods shot across space aiming to drill into the NIV Confidence. This was the risky move this weakened their stealth for the time the hanger bay was open. The machines worked as quick as possible but she couldn't count on not being detected. This would hopefully give Caarlyle Rausgeber something to think about. The Drones waited for targets to present themselves swirling around in evasive patterns as the two ships that dropped them made their move to get away from the area. The focus was to quickly and silently get away from the commotion and approach once the empress needed evac. Their existence was confirmed but hopefully they could stay away from the big guns as the Drones and drop pods stole the show.

ENEMIES | NIO | GA | SoM | SJC | NJO |
Caarlyle Rausgeber |@Trajan Kurze | Jivim Vaak | Rexus Wenck | Commodore Curtis Rheardon | Gallius Orcana | @Delvrarus Sanders| Albrecht F. Herlock

​

ALLIES | TSE | CIS | EE | Grand Moff Decimus | Kuben Woods | Alina Tremiru | Errix Feh'room | Seela Leini | Moff Drybis Lyken | Ingrid L'lerim | Calruss Shiman | Darth Banshee | The Amalgam

 

[DECEASED Aron Gowrie]

IV
Operation: SHADOWDANCE
MUUNILINST, 865 ABY

Objective 3: BREAKING THE SILENCE
FRONT CHIMERA

Commonwealth Forces: Willan Tal Enedina Tal Tyrell Lockhart Amadeus Blackwood

Allies (NIO): Irveric Tavlar Rurik Fel Enlil Jaeger Harrsk
Kolson Vrask Areyon Detritus Ren
Ravraa Vyshraal Zakaria Black Hâwmâr Lurais

Allies (NJO/GA/FO/SJC/): Aerarii Tithe Ishida Ashina Bernard
Allies (RGO/OTHER): Aurelian Sigismund Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt

Enemies (TSE/CIS): Shuklaar Kyrdol Darth Mori Arctus Silmar Darth Empyrean Darth Carnifex
Adrian L'lerim-Vandiir Eva Betrik Lady Marrow Bastian Briareos

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
Other Vehicles
4 Stolen MLVs
2 Stolen Ammo-Transports

The Glow of Death VII - Fly, My Little Ginger Magpies!​

'Incredible find, Leftenant Scott. Honestly! Ah've nae idea how ye found this beauty of a place, but it suits very much for that kindae op we're settin' out to endeavour. An' speakin' of that, you can lead another rustlin' action against any Sith expectin' a carbon-copy o' Barran oot here, sound good?'

Shaking hands with the Guard-Leftenant by the spacious room's only (but hulking in size to compensate for the size of the lounge itself) hearth, the cozy FOB they'd taken for their own uses would gleam with light from the crystal chandelier above them, all whilst the comm-link units, map-holographic plinths and all the technological aids they'd need were being installed all around them. Though the Laird-in-disguise did not know it yet, his actions from that moment onwards would reap rewards of the likes his clan had never experienced during the Warring-Clans era, or in their perpetual war on the crime-addled Westcape province; Scott was injecting a whole new lease of life into the Wildcats, and to do so at such an early stage in the battalion's journey was a blessing in ways that the guardsman would never know, so the Kellas had all the reason in the world to consider promoting the Minnonraer-clansman to retain the vacant,"2-IC's Adjutant", role.

'Sounds like a plan to me, Milord. Also, thank you for the opportunity, I'm only setting standards that the boys are more than likely to exceed down the line. Slow-and-steady for some, but that's genuinely fine by me.... Gives me more time to get the best out of myself and to set some battalion-bests whilst I'm still around to achieve them. I know what I signed up for, and I've never once minded that this is a one-way ticket - best make that one hell of a journey before I get the gank, am I right?'

Like a shot in the dark, the look of calmly approval changed to one of wide-eyed surprise, though still expressed with appreciation of the unwitting sort; the more this man appeared to open his mouth, the more he appeared to belong, and every second of it was knocking the Lord-Commander for a loop. No Woad would be able to comprehend what it was that the Kellas was slowly beginning to understand, nor would they ever wish to, but Scott would, casting a knowing wink, telling of alliances from centuries before their births. Confirming all with a single, jesting act of affirmation, more than just a clansman after all, and in quite the overqualified position within the battalion; they both knew that Lord Aron had so many questions for Lord Byron, but the command-centre's hi-tech array had finally come alive with comm-chatter and top-down blip activity. Whatever they had to discuss, it would need to wait, and they would need to see if either Lord would live to make history for the Tuath clans or not.

'Indeed you are, but as you can see - our duties await.... Survive this, Byron, and perhaps we might have a little chat about history. So keep sharp oot there, aw'right? Remember the Generis Warning,"I will leave you to rot unburied, unreported, unremembered!", an' I absolutely will if you die here today! Dismissed!'

The Glow of Death VIII - BURN IT ALL DOWN

Well, well, well.... These are gawn online awfy quick noo! Quick oan their feet, ey'ways a gid sign.​

Watching the process from the lounge, Colonel Gowrie would drink whiskey with Captain Reed as each and every spy-cam went live, and though the quality of the footage would be middling at best, the process gave Wildcat-Command (and all the on-duty staffers along with them) a perfect view of the hidden redoubt's surrounding inner-city districts. The only audible sounds disturbing the oddly-therapeutic technological whirrs, and the humming of machine-activity, were the not-so-distant roars and clunks of tools working on the hidden fortifications within the well-protected underground complex itself, though the occasional sightings of Tuaths,"Tripping up in the wild!", would induce laughter that would seemingly cut through all the auditory contrasts with ease. This was obviously becoming child's play for WIldcat Battalion, and it looked as if every last one of Lord Aron's subordinates was aware of this fact, seemingly making quick work of whoever (or whatever) they found along the way.

If they couldn't be captured, and if it couldn't be stolen, the Tuaths didn't want any part of it; quickly becoming an unspoken rule after seeing the Guardian fire-teams' successes with their own eyes from the moment the flares first went up, so it wouldn't be long before all the would-be magpies starting bringing back more plundered ordnance for their Lord-Colonel's still-undeclared reasons. The leisurely viewing-session, however, would be halted for what looked set to be a while when the sounds of an approaching kerfuffle broke Gowrie's serenity; a few AFV-riflemen had found a Sith-trooper wandering too far from his post, beaten and carried their captive back behind friendly lines, and were bringing the captive to dump him at Gowrie's feet for,"The Laird's final say".

'Captain Reed, bring me the Sith-scum!'
​

​

 

[Djorn Bline]

V E N O M _ S N A K E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
ORD THODEN
ARMOR | PRIMARY | SECONDARY | MELEE | GRENADES​

<"Sir, I am setting 'Echo Aurek' to lockdown status, we have an unidentified warship in orbit expelling drop pods to the surface.">

<"Looks like the Sith have shown their hand to us, Colonel. I shouldn't have to tell you what comes next,"> a quick response to the Imperial officer that served in one of the Order's prestigious armored units. The garrison and population would be alerted from the invasion of the unauthorized carrier with drop pods falling from orbit. Imperial assets would have tighter security with the sudden attack from the carrier and the raised alarm would have civilians retreating for any form of shelter.

<"No doubt this is all related to the attacks on Muunilinst and Orinackra, no way this all just some coincidence from an unknown hostile.">

<"Sir, we're operating with a garrison that were fething lucky to graduate from training and are bottoms of the barrel.">

<"Then I hope they are capable of adapting to their surroundings. I'm sure Bolter will have them reborn for war.">

They had to make whatever use from their defenses available to them. Luckily, it was just one warship that entered the system, but that was an omen more would be on the way. No one would dedicate a task force of that size to capture an entire system, even if it was a backwater world such as Ord Thoden. It wasn't prioritized as other appealing worlds within the New Order, but there was some investment in its defenses and infrastructure after its annexation.

<"That's not all, Snake. Apparently, there is an unauthorized shuttle with no clearance codes, but they were from some school. An Imperial Knight sent us this information who is now in pursuit of its passengers.">

<"Its location?">

<"Not too far from Echo-Aurek.">

<"Then we're its defenses, I want tight patrols and lethal force is authorized,"> his vambrace was raised to his face a line patched through to Bolter. <"Colonel, I know you know how to do your damn job, but my only request is to no bother aiding any hapless civilians. We'll help the needy once we're through with this battle. We have to work with whatever scraps and bones we got, and it ain't much. Snake out.">

They had a duty to fight for the security and interests of the New Order, but he believed diverting assets to help non-combatants would only compromise their defenses. Not everyone could be saved in a warzone and he wasn't going to pretend to be a savior to those in need of shelter. Only through victory here would they be able to aid the wounded and restore order on Ord Thoden.

ALLIES | NIO | GA | Konrad Bolter | Djonas Val | Hakon Fett
ENEMIES | TSE | Alisteri Haxim | Valen Arenais | Aurelion Nova | Laertia Io

 

[Trajan Fett]

S U P E R C O M M A N D O
SONS OF MANDALORE
NIV 'CONFIDENCE' COMMAND DECK
Beskar'gam | Main Weapon | Side-Arm | Melee | Grenades
Cradle | RUUSAN Injector + Chernil'borg | Ravenous Grenades

SPIDERS
ORINACKRA '65
In Command of NIV 'Confidence'

​

He was admittedly surprised to see the Admiral Regent submit to his reasoning and within moments, it all became vindicated. The sole focus of the Sith fleet was now charged unto the NIV Confidence. How they reasoned the Eternal Empress was aboard or how violently they would come to retrieve her, he did not know.

Good. He knew a fight was coming his way.

He would be outgunned, outnumbered, no means of escape, isolated from any means of support. If Carlyle was smart which- Kurze certainly anticipated he was...he wouldn't dare clamor back to rescue the Confidence. It was a strategic sacrifice, whatever he could get out of Ingrid was an expended end and now one that'd come loose. One he'd have to cut. Trajan would just be unfortunate collateral.

Not that he cared. Living the life he did, a man and gun for hire, it was an eventual fate. Regardless, it was the Sith before him, the eternal foe.

He knew what the figures added up to and he was here to force his answer. Activating the Ysilamiri cradle secured to his chest, its force nullifying aura now raked its talons into the bridge. In the aims of making her powers useless, with the small beast secured in the artificial habitat strung to consciousness.

Now that he had command of the ship, he immediately snapped toward one of the Death troopers with a finger levied in his direction.

<"Put her back exactly how she was."> He commanded in his low, stern voice, throwing a pair of force restraining metal binds in the direction of one of the Death Troopers who followed through in setting her back into place in her seat.

<"Get her situated. If she doesn't want to leave, we certainly won't make her. Looks like you're my problem now, your highness. You got one last call to make for your freedom in case you're deciding to change your mind."> The Mandalorian said to her, throwing a comms unit into her lap, patched through to the Admiral Regent in transit himself. But this was hardly a sympathy from the Mandalorian. This was to get her talking, get her distracted.

<"Commodore."> Trajan said, looking across the command bridge toward the man as he approached him with the characteristic rattle of his steps.

"Erm- sir...we have been made aware of a boarding party on the vessel and our shields will not sustain this level of firepower any further." It was grim picture of the situation, appraising the future of the NIV Confidence. If any New Imperial vessel was due to be knocked out today, it was certainly this very cruiser.

Trajan nodded once, fully understanding the gravity of the circumstances.

Looking to the Death Troopers, he motioned them off with a wordless 'deal with it'. They obliged, ever eager to gun down Sith.

<"Lock down the command bridge, this area."> Trajan commanded, there was no room for negotiation in his tone.

"Sir- I most certainly advise we follow the lead of the Admiral Reg-"

<"I am not asking you, I am commanding you. Lock down the bridge."> Trajan iterated again.

On that, the order was followed through, Trajan left alone with the Commodore, a lions share of what was needed to operate the vessel Trajan sent off with the Admiral Regent. On Trajan's command, the next was followed through. They were confined in here.

"Deed is done, the Command bridge is locked down as per your command, Mandalorian."

<"Launch the escape pods...all of them, whatever is left."> The command was left with a follow up of silence from the Commodore.

"Wh-what?!" He asked in disbelief.

<"Won't take me long to figure it out...and it gives our Admiral Regent his best chance at a safe escape."> If he was going to stand in Trajan's way, he'd be moved. The Commodore very reluctantly obliged and soon enough both racks of unlaunched escape pods were ejected into the blackness.

<"Get the Petards in the launch bays armed to explode since-...well there it is."> And with that, the Harrower-class vessel came into view, evidently full throttle toward the NIV Confidence.

<"Shields to front, put as much juice to the engines as you can manage...if they wanna scrap, we'll oblige.">

"Are you- are you suggesting we ram...them, now?! Sir- what you suggest is...suicide!" The Commodore piped up in defiance. As if providing his insight would say Kurze in the slightest.

<"No...it's vengeance."> Trajan uttered in reply. The Sith had slain his wife and child in the scourging of Mandalore and Concordia. There was no sympathy he'd ever have for them. And he was a man nothing to gain, nothing to lose.

With half a section of Death Troopers headed down to intercept the boarding party, he had time to prepare on the bridge. Waiting for the prey to come to him, the

He sat into the captain's chair, leaning back into it with his disruptor rifle resting on his knee as the ship reared itself to full acceleration toward Darth Banshee 's vessel.

The clock was ticking. For everyone but more than anyone else...for him.

ALLIES | NIO | Caarlyle Rausgeber | Gallius Orcana | Jivim Vaak
ENEMIES | TSE | Ingrid L'lerim | Alina Tremiru | Kuben Woods | Moff Drybis Lyken | Errix Feh'room | Tranquility | Seela Leini

[/QUOTE]

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group​

Location: Orinackra System, NIV Confidence, Command Deck
Objective II.: Surviving
Equipment: Military uniform || Empyrean gland
Writing with: Caarlyle Rausgeber | Trajan Fett

[ Requiem for a Dream ] ​

Being far away, she didn't know what the two men were talking about, but the Mandalorian didn't stop her. At least she might didn’t consider it dangerous, which would have been suicide in any other situation. Not today. Ingrid did everything she agreed with Hans, the Triumvirate was the same. She would probably have undertaken death for peace as well. For the peace that everyone misunderstood; she did it not for the sake of the The Sith Empire, the Eternal Empire has always been important to her. She supported the TSE in the interests of the Eternal Empire because she considered them the last bastion in the East. The last point, along with the SJC, is to keep the horde of Bryn’adûl in check.

In the shadows she was who toyed with the Sith Empire, and not they played with her…

She concentrated and the injuries disappeared from her face. No, they didn't heal, just disappeared due the shape-shifting to look at Rausgeber again without visible damage. She may have looked perfect and beautiful now, but she was just as damaged, “bleed,” behind the perfect look. In fact, it took a lot of energy out of her. Her head hurts and throbs, so couldn't shake it.

"No! You would send me to death, without antidote, crushing my honour and dignity, pushing the Eternal Empire to destruction, due my escaping. No, I stand by my principles, Admiral Regent, even if it costs my life."

The red-haired woman gave her word she would cooperate, if she escaped, would do exactly the opposite. Didn't care about the spitting or being disturbed by the man. Would he have felt guilty? Shh wasn't entirely sure. When the man turned away, Ingrid spoke again.

"I can give you Pa’desh and make you a hero. The Grand Admiral, who rescued the prisoner of war from the traitor Commodore’s hands who tried to kill her, and from her allies, was not least able to negotiate with her, which puts Pa’desh back under the influence of the Rausgeber bloodline. No one would ever doubt your loyalty again, Admiral Regent. Therefore, I am just asking for your loyalty, the feelings you feel towards the NIO, your masters and the Imperator, and sometimes some information. Nothing that would endanger you or your position, as it would not benefit to anyone."

She was able to steal emotions from others, so if Rausgeber really felt loyal, she could take that away from him and later give it back if she had to. During her words, conveyed through the Force that she was telling the truth. Ingrid was ready to do this, and in this case she says nothing to Tavlar. Otherwise, well, unpleasant explanations await the Admiral Regent.

The shape-shifting and Force Using took quite a bit out of her, otherwise it would have been nothing, but it was burdensome due to the beating and poisoning. Everything hurt, ached, throbbed, she could still see vaguely. Her regeneration dealt with microbes instead of injuries, and all of this has so far proved ineffective against the creatures. She had to hold on, in the nearest panel, looking at Rausgeber as the man addressed her.

"Of the two of us, you're the one who's mad. And you still have the opportunity to accept my offer and become a hero or fail as a result of your betrayal, Admiral Regent. You have a chance to give an answer until the TSE reach the bridge, after which I can do nothing for you."

As in all situations, she now showed herself to be strong, a winner, as if she were dictating the conditions. She always did. After the man left, she trembled and fell to her knees. Because of her high pain threshold, she may have underestimated her injuries again, and they are more severe than she thought.

"What are your plans with me after this, Mr. Kurze?" She asked the Mandalorian.

Within moments she got an answer to her question, this time she couldn't get up alone anymore, so she was dragged off the ground. Saw that the chair she was sitting in was also being set up. Within moments, found herself bound up again, at least not having to bother being able to stand or sit. Eventually, even a pair of force restraining metal binds were added, although this had no effect due to the gland. True, she was no longer in a position to use the Force. For a moment she looked down to the comlink.

"You still don't understand Mr. Kurze, even though as a Mandalorian you would die the se way for your people and your principles…"

Last but not least, what would have been the point of leaving if she hadn't lived until she saw her sons or Tubrok again?

 

[Laertia Io]

Xiphos, still pining for Syd's presence, barely sensed the incoming grenades, and even when she did, it was only enough to teleport them away just enough so they didn't do completely incapacitating damage, but she was still knocked down by the sonic blasts, and while her armor was rated for sonic attacks,her ears still run. Her Son's were knocked down, their chassis suffering mild damage and stunning their processors. The smoke grenades bust around the same time

She saw the blade before it's wielder as she stood and barely deflected it.

"There's a contract in your soul, Io, and I'm here to collect." Hakon Fett said grimly with typically fatalistic NIO-ness.

"The only thing you are collecting is an asskicking." Xiphos spat at her would be Assassin coldly, raising her blade to guard, the teal flames dancing on its green aura.

"You're no ferryman..." The Light Sith growled, ordering her son's to with draw via technopathy and keep heading for the initial objective.

She launched into a deadly, flowing assault with Form 1, directed in sweeping, unpredictable arcs aimed at his wrists and head, trying to either severe his wrists, or his head.

"YOU'RE JUST ANOTHER PASSENGER ON HIS BOAT!" Xiphos shouted, striking with maximum speed and her extreme Strength.

Meanwhile...

(Nuetralizer Theme Song Power Up)

(Theme: "For What It's Worth." By Buffalo Springfield)

Objective: 3 (Fafnir)

Following: Martin The Nuetralizer

Model 1's Present: 007

Model One Team Configuration

Standard Assault Models (3) (Stevenson, Bernthal, Lundgren)

Assault Model Service Rifle: DC-17 Commando Blaster, Grenades

Comms (Hudson) (All Weapons except sonic Disruptor swapped out for sensor and communication equipment)

Demolition (Kabuto) (All weapons except Cryonic Laser and Sonic Disruptor swapped out for EXP Sensors and Disarmament/Armament Equipment, Mines, and Det Charges)

Designated Marksman (Martin.) (All onboard weapons removed to allow for increased Speed and spare ammo storage. Given Nightstinger Sporting Blaster And enhanced targeting optics.)

Model 2's Present: 007

Model 2 Equipment:

Hockey Mask

30 Caliber LMG

Vibromachete

Pump Action Grenade Launcher

Acid Sprayer

Muunilists Financial district was like nothing Martin had ever seen.

The wealth of Muun was legendary. He had fought in jungles, killed in urban warfare, survived Sev Tok. But the financial district was really something.

And they were here to gut it.

Mother had gradually grown to utterly despise the NIO, having been on the defensive fighting them and their dogged, foolish and shortsighted attempts to destroy the Sith for months.

Today, The Empire Strikes Back.

Xiphos knew the only real way to hurt them was their pocket book. That was why they had direct orders from Mother herself to kill not just any banking clan officials, but to directly destroy precious metals and gemstone deposits.

Martin had chosen to hit one of their largest banks, which stored bullion, gems from thousands of different worlds. They were going to utterly destroy it. Officials, after all, could be replaced. But render a supply of bullion and gems worthless? That would hurt.

They weren't even going to take any of it to fund themselves. It wasn't about the money. It was about sending a message from Mother.

Her message was this:

Everything burns.

They just had to meet up with Team 2. Their newer, larger brothers.

Martin was deployed in drop pods with his brothers as close to the site of the bank as possible quite deep in enemy territory. Just the way the Nuetralizers liked it.

He took out his Nightstinger Sporting Blaster with an enhanced scope attached as he exited the pod, wearing his typical red bandana around a scratched chrome skull. Stevenson, Lundgren, and Bernthal from Serenno were present, as well as Hudson who had drawn three red streaks of stormtrooper blood on his skeletal face. A new member was present as Demolitions, Kabuto, who wore a dark red Atrisian Kabuto for a helmet.

"I dunno boss, it doesn't feel right, not having most of my weapons..." Hudson complained as he initiated scans and encrypted pings for the street they were in.

"Today requires soft, gentle, possibly lover like treatment." Martin muttered, directing them to follow him via hand signals.

"So we're gonna ask the Bankers out on a date before we blast them?" Stevenson asked as they moved through the streets from cover to cover.

"We should take bets on how many would accept to avoid getting blasted." Lundgren chuckled, shooting a Stormtrooper that poked his head from a roof.

"But would we have to live up to our end of the deal?" Bernthal the Nuetralizer asked.

"Of course not! Why would we?!" Stevenson laughed casually about the massive war crime they were about to commit. "It's more of a thought experiment."

"Anata wa subete ikarikuruu bakadesu." Kabuto complained in an old Atrisian dialect.

"I resent that!" Hudson bemoaned. "Your helmet completely clashes with our whole vibe!"

"Watashi no herumetto wa sekushīdesu." Kabuto replied haughtily, blowing up a hidden det charge.

"Only in very specific circumstances is such a helmet sexy, Kabuto. The rest of the time, you're a walking period piece." Bernthal argued.

"Damn right!" Hudson exclaimed.

"You secure that chit, Hudson!" Martin barked.

"Yeah, Boss." Hudson complained.

"Teki wa watashi no herumetto o osorete imasu." Kabuto claimed as Martin bid them to stop, finally spotting the Model 2's having secured a minor defense perimeter, all wearing Hockey Masks and armed with vibro machetes or machine guns.

Martin approached the lead Model 2, wearing a Darker hockey Mask than the others.

"Found any horny teenagers to chop up?" Martin joked.

"Several, but they were designated non-combatants so we let 'em go." Tom The Model 2 replied in a distinct yet grating Coruscant accent muffled by the mask. He stared at Kabuto.

"Dammit, why didn't I think of wearing Atrisian today?" Tom asked himself before focusing on Martin.

"Mother has decreed that the NIO's punishment must be more severe."

"So...why Hockey Masks?" Hudson asked.

"These Slasher Flicks are most fascinating..." Tom answered. "And nobody cared who I was until I put on the Mask."

"Just remember, I'm in charge..." Martin told him.

"Do you feel in charge?" Tom asked in a super creepy low voice.

"Is that a trick question, Little Brother?" Martin asked.

"Ahhhh, just screwing with you!" Tom chuckled. "Let's go destroy this bank with no survivors!"

Martin nodded and the fully united team proceeded in the direction of the bank, alert for all threats...

 

[Tyrell Lockhart]

1st Dunwall Irregulars (The Devils of Dunwall)

Call Sign: Devil One

Location: Muunilinst Ground

Personal Loadout: DC-17m Interchangeable Weapon System, Vibroknife, Brass Knuckles

Part One: Back in Business

Galidraan: 4 days ago...

The Dunwall Irregulars had been taking some much need time away from the endless violence of war after the brutal engagement on Csilla. It had been the toughest fight they had seen to date, and had lost more men in one day than they had since the formation of their organization. Not one among them had returned unscathed, having seen brutality unparalleled in scope. Tyrell himself had felt particularly effected by the fight. The loss of the young messenger had stuck with him since, as if he were carrying the lad's body through the snow. On this night, Tyrell had found himself taking to the bottle more than usual. It seemed that his ability to unwind had lessened with each progressing day. He chose to sit alone, in his usual dark corner of the bar on the outskirts of Dunwall. He expected his only company to be the thoughts in his head...

Then he showed up.

Zed... the same agent that had been the liaison between the DI and the greater Galidraani movement, came sauntering up to Tyrell's table with his usually sly, slithering demeanor. Tyrell didn't even bother looking at the man, opting instead to continue staring into the bottle in front of him.

"Tell me, Zed, why is it that ya always end up findin' me 'ere?"

He poured himself another drink as Zed took a seat.

"Perhaps it's because you always find yourself here, Lockhart."

It took all Tyrell had to not smash the bottle over Zed's head.

"Right, well, I suppose ya got some bad news. Best be out with it then."

Zed pulled out a small holo-projector, revealing a document concerning the planet of Muunilinst. Tyrell took a moment to attempt to read it, but his blurred vision made it rather difficult to make out.

"You know I can't read worth a chite right now. So, you tell me, Zed, what am I lookin' at?"

Zed closed the file, letting out a disgruntled sigh.

"The Empire is making a move on Muunilinst. You and yours have been requested by Lord Tal himself."

Tyrell felt a bit of disbelief at the man's words.

"Heh, good one Zed. Yer tellin' me that Lord Willan fethin' Tal himself requested us? Just what did we do to deserve such consideration?"

Zed's stone cold face showed that it wasn't a joke.

"The DI did some great work on Csilla, even if the planet was lost. You held your ground with the best of them. Lord Barran himself passed word along. Besides, this will likely require your unit's unique skills. Sabotage, ambushes, unconventional warfare... right in your wheelhouse."

Tyrell took a moment to haphazardly straighten his tie, in some small, intoxicated effort to appear like he deserved such a charge.

"Right, well then... when do we move out?"

"Immediately."

Part Two: A Harnaidan Day's Night

Theme

The streets of Harnaidan were quiet, for the most part. The city had seen plenty of devastation through the war, and the ruins of past battles could still be seen strewn across the shadowy streets. The DI had been scattered through the streets, preparing everything from gun emplacements to explosives throughout the city. They were going to be spread thin, but it didn't trouble Tyrell. The rugged ground of bombed buildings and twisting, shrapnel-ridden alleys were the sort of environment that made the DI famous. A perfect place for an ambush. A perfect place for a Devil.

Tyrell had been moving to each emplacement, checking in with the lads one last time. Once the shooting started, there would be no telling when he'd see any of them again. Furthermore, they would have to be silent and quick, not unlike the shadows that danced along the streets. Radio silence would be a must until the chit hit the fan.

The Madman sent an encoded, silent message to DECEASED Aron Gowrie , stating the following:

<This is Devil One. Comms going dark for now. Will reach out via silent transmission till surprise is compromised. The DI have taken positions throughout the city. If you would oblige us, allow us to draw 'em in just a hair. Lord Tal has ordered us in the vanguard, and a vanguard he shall have. Just gonna be playing on our terms this time around. Got surprises lined up all along the city. Will be in touch soon. Devil One out!>

Once the message was sent, Tyrell checked his blaster one last time. With weapons at the ready, the remainder of the Devils of Dunwall shot forward, moving toward the last known position of the Sith.

Tyrell finally felt the itch in his trigger finger again. It was as if all else had faded, and the dead left on Csilla finally seemed buried...

The madman felt at home.

Willan Tal Enedina Tal Irveric Tavlar Kolson Vrask Jerec Yularen​

 

[Darth Banshee]

Allies: Grand Moff Decimus Kuben Woods Alina Tremiru Errix Feh'room Seela Leini Moff Drybis Lyken Ingrid L'lerim

Enemies: Caarlyle Rausgeber Trajan Fett Albrecht F. Herlock Gallius Orcana

Spoiler

Hull/Shields Name
Fleet: 1x Harrower-class Cruiser 750/600 Decimator
1x Tammar Class Corvettes destroyed Exar Kun, Self-destruction
1x Tammar Class Corvettes 112/ 68 Jurak Uln
1x Squadron of Caedus-class Superiority Fighter (8) Deployed, to intercept, enemy fighters (3 destroyed, by debris field)
3x Squadron of Scorpio-class Sith-Imperial Droid Starfighter (48) Deployed, to intercept, enemy fighters (24 destroyed in debris field)
1x Squadron of Caldoth-class Bomber (12) Prepped for quick Launch
2x Squadron of Vindican-class Troop Transport (24) fully loaded, with one space free For Darth Banshee

As her ships got closer, they began maneuvering, she was puzzled by the lack of return fire. She got closer and closer, she was expecting her fleet to have sustained crippling fire by now, but nothing. She moved closer, her weapons were having little effect at long range, then she realized, what they were doing, maybe a little too late. They turned their tractor beams into a wall, making it like a cheese grater, and her ships were the cheese. Her fighters began landing, back in the hanger, as they were murdered out there. She thought about ordering the corvette Exar Kun to jump to light space and to ram them at light speed, that would have been far too dangerous and could risk killing Ingrid L'lerim , so she decides against it, but she needed to get through that wall. She pondered for a split second. Then raised Commander Palmera, of the Exar Kun. "Commander Palmera, abandon ship, and self destruct" her plan was simple, to blow the debris away, and allow her to get close without much more issues. Commander Palmera replied "Very well, it has been an honour" She didn't understand why it had been an honour, but she cared not, as long as he did as he was told. She then told Captain Teramo, "Get between me and Commander Palmera ship, and when the hole is made, dart straight to the Pride of the Emperor, criple its hanger bays, to allow me to board, stay as long as you can, then get out if you can, if not self destruct." He simply nodded in response, it was crunch time.

As she began to turn to her deck officers, she saw all escape pods from Exar Kun, popping out of the ship, she hoped this worked. "May the force be with you all" Actually she didn't care if they lived or died, as long as she got on board the enemy ship. Then she continued "I am about to board a transport, to try and capture that ship, keep fighting until you have to fall back, or self destruct." There were the same orders given to the Captain of Jurak Uln, as she moved down towards the hanger bay, the whole ship vibrated with the destruction of the Corvette, Exar Kun. The plan was successful, they had a hole in the wall. She moved quickly down to hanger bay, as she did the fighters and bombers launched, to swarm, the enemies flagship. She boarded the transport, and she was soon on her way with the fighter escort. There was a strange smell in the air, in her transport, that was not her honestly.

The transport took off without a hitch, they were being flanked by fighters, and droid ships would intercept anything that would destroy her transport, others not so much.

 

[Kiara Ayres]

Objective: III - Breaking the Silence | Lifeline
Allies: NIO | GA | SJC
Hostiles: TSE | Open
Tags: Bright4 Varn Barakis​

Kiara's gaze flickered between the two Jedi for a moment before she nodded at Varn, showing understanding and appreciation. "Okay. Secure the area. I'll try and move some of the rubble. Maybe there's another way out of this place." She told the two before they left to assess the overhead battle that left some of the trapped people cowering in fear, some of the children with their hands over their ears to try and block out the sound of blaster fire which echoed into the tomb.

She hopped down from the platform, onto the train track and set to work using the Force to move the large pieces of rubble which bisected the tunnel. Slowly but surely, the road to escape became clearer. However, before long, her efforts were disrupted by the sudden warning pang through the Force which caused her to immediately whip around and hold a hand out towards the platform where a piece of the ceiling had loosened and plummeted towards the ground.

The large piece of ceiling hovered in the air, above a group of awe-struck civilians, as the Jedi Master grasped the rock through the Force and gently moved it aside before placing it safely on the ground. She climbed back up onto the platform, her eyes fixated on the ceiling as it rumbled and shuddered. The ceiling began to crack and through the crack came plumes of dust from the ground above. Without hesitation, she held her hands skywards, calling upon the Force to prevent the ceiling from caving.

There was no doubt within her mind that this was no accident.

They were trying to crush those trapped beneath them.

 

[Albrecht F. Herlock]

Objective II : Rising Resistance
Location: On board of the Pride of Anaxes, Orinackra's debris field​

Equipment: uniform, custom-made blaster pistol, ceremonial sword, telescope



ALLIES | NIO | GA | SoM | SJC | NJO | Caarlyle Rausgeber | Trajan Fett | Jivim Vaak | Rexus Wenck | Commodore Curtis Rheardon | Gallius Orcana | Delvrarus Sanders | LT-137
ENEMIES | TSE | CIS | EE | Grand Moff Decimus | Kuben Woods | Alina Tremiru | Tranquility | Errix Feh'room | Seela Leini | Moff Drybis Lyken | Ingrid L'lerim | Calruss Shiman | Darth Banshee | The Amalgam

Anaxes Navy Task Force 58 composition:​

Name​	Class​	Status​	Commanding Officer​
X101 Pride of Anaxes (flagship)​	X100-class escort frigate​	Fully crewed, operationnal​	Captain Albrecht Herlock​
X102 Audacious​	X100-class escort frigate​	Fully crewed, operationnal​	Lieutenant Commander Julius E. Mannerheim​
X103 Courageous​	X100-class escort frigate​	Fully crewed, operationnal​	Lieutenant Commander James Halsey​
CV-1 Foudroyant​	Foudroyant-class fleet carrier​	Fully crewed, operationnal​	Commander Erika Richthofen​
Silencieux​	Stealth Corvette Silencieux​	Fully crewed, operationnal​	Lieutenant Lucas Traumen​

Legend: comm in, comm out, ship's intercom and broadcast system, crew

"Captain Herlock, this is Commodore Orcana. Authorisation to hunt whatever you find. We have spotted an enemy flotilla and are engaging. Orcana over."

Those were the words Herlock was waiting for. As the excitation gained him, he gave his orders, calmly.

"To all Task Force 58 ships, this is the Pride of Anaxes. Stay in battle line formation. We will soon begin the hunt for ennemy ships. Pride of Anaxes, over."

He seemed calm, but he was excited, very excited. He was able to witness the efficiency of the Silencieux and the idea to hunt other ships was a charming one according to him. After all, that was one of the reason he created his small fleet.

"Turn to starboard, fifteen degrees. Full speed ahead. Bring us into that field and search the area for ennemy ships. I want all weapon systems to be ready."

"Aye Sir!"

And as his ship started to turn, all the task force's ships did so, in a synchronized move, and were headed towards the field. All the starfighters that were launched earlierstarted to inspect the area, getting back to their ships when needed.

On board of the stealth corvette Silencieux
Corvette status: Cloaking device engaged
Commanding officer: Lieutenant Lucas Traumen


"To all Task Force 58 ships, this is the Pride of Anaxes. Stay in battle line formation. We will soon begin the hunt for ennemy ships. Pride of Anaxes, over."

As the words from Herlock came, the Executive Officer went to Lucas' room and relayed the orders. Lucas was still a bit nervous. Then he remembered the name of his ship and thought with a smile that the corvette was showing why it was named Silencieux. He returned to the bridge and then, declared to the crew memebers that were present.

"Gentlemen, we will now do what this ship was made for. Let the hunt begin."

 

[Adrian L'lerim-Vandiir]

Adrian L’lerim Terassi Vandiir
Prince of the Eternal Empire, Disciple/Acolyte, assassin, sorcerer and alchemist
Uncrowned King of the Pocket Sand, Heir of the House L’lerim, Member of the Primyn Group​

Location: ???, Definitely not Kalidan
Objective II.: Braking the Silence; Survive
Equipment: Mnami Mirsûra, The Crow Cane | Deck of the Pocket Sand | Estran Attire | G1 OmniLink || Empyrean gland
Tag: Jax Thio (planning) | Open

[ Supreme ] ​

As the soldiers began to run open fire on him, they didn't seem to want to let anyone go, but feth! He didn’t even know what was going on here, why there was an attack. Hh didn’t know that the TSE was trying to free his mother somewhere else because she was still a prisoner of war, just as he didn’t know that the woman was dying, or that her mother didn’t know that her son had never reached Kalidan. He was in bigger trouble at that moment.

Two shots flew past him, one slammed into the ground at his feet, and a fourth hit him on the back. Fortunately, his attire protected him from such attacks, yet Adrian fell. The landslide hurt his ego more than the hit itself. He found the situation very humiliating. Why can't they just let him go? If someone escapes, they probably don’t want to fight. Of course, he was an easy prey in a situation like this, for the soldiers.

His head hurt due to being punched, he heard them as they said to him to surrender from behind, and someone mentioned a Sith too.

"I’m not a Sith!" he growled.

It wasn’t even a lie because he had never received such an upbringing, education, he had completely neutral lessons without a codex. He wasn't even Darksider!

"Hey, man! I don't even know what's going on here, which planet it is - I just got here! I just want to go home!" he defended himself as he sat up. It sounded pretty unbelievable, but it was true.

Home. But where was that? He wasn't sure. For a moment he ran his fingers through his hair and swept the stray lock of hair or two from his face, and in the next moment he saw one of the riflescons heading towards his face…

 

[Ravraa Vyshraal]

OBJECTIVE 3 - BREAKING THE SILENCE - NIO

SHILI SECTOR AUXILIARIES

OPEN TO CONFLICT

​

The moment the gunship made land and the doors shuttered open, a blaster bolt zoomed right past the Moff’s head, causing him to flinch to the side, kneeling down out of instinct as the cry of a man came from behind him. The tumbling of plate armor and weight slamming onto the floor came from behind Ravraa. He paused, lost in the space and time that for the first minute of this operation he had already lost one of his Auxiliaries. He reached down to his side, freed the blaster pistol from it’s holster, raised it, and let a hail of one, two, three, four, and five blaster bolts sail across the open streets Harnaidan. Catching the Sith Legionarrie, who was quite a ways away from the rest of his battalion, first in the chest, with the rest scoring marks on his helmet and arms as the body went limp and fell to the dirt. Ravraa waved his left hand at the hunk of rubble that the scout squad was hiding behind, just in time for the next trooper to pop his head out.

<”Light them up!”>

And with that, the departing squads of the Shili Sector Auxiliaries brought their charric blaster rifles to bear, letting loose a hellfire of supercharged bolts slam into the rock and all of the cityscape around it. Tearing away chunks of concrete, edging the bit of cover smaller and smaller as they chipped away the edges. The white was dominated by the glow of blaster shot, as Ravraa threw in an occasional burst of rounds from his pistol again. Eventually, the squad that had made their cover behind the rock were forced into the open from the sheer volume of fire. To say that they were littered with blaster shots would have been an understatement as more and more gunships landed and deployed more and more troopers. This scout squad had just been unlucky enough to catch the Moff and his men in sore moods in the middle of their operational staging area.

<”Hold fire!”> He shouted, throwing up his hand, his cape billowing in the wind behind him as the shockwaves from the shelling died down. Waiting for the smoke to clear, all he saw once it did was a pile of crumpled armor and deformed bodies.

What was it about this world that brought out the hate in him?

<“This will be Forward Base Aurek, we will attempt to establish Besh and Cresh at other high population centers that are currently under occupation by the Sith or were too hot to attempt landin’. Gunships Oneth, Krenth, Nen, and Orenth will operate here, focusing on running civilians and medivac back to the Emperiolo, we are on a rescue mission, don’t forget that. Triple check targets, wait to be fired upon before engaging. Gunship G’hecran, you will be running close air support. Roll on the Sith lines, take out any heavy emplacements and armor that seem to be moving into our AO. We aren’t heroes here, don’t get big heads. Just doin’ what’s right so the others can focus on the big stuff. Hear me?”>

<“We hear you, Lord Protector!”> The Auxiliaries called out.

Let the day begin.

 

[Vesta]

SHE SEES EVERYTHING​

Muunilist

Breaking the Silence: Front Hydra​

Location: Harnaidan​

Equipment: Talon of Typhojem, Lightsaber​

Allies: The Sith Empire | Lady Marrow , Darth Daiara ​

Enemies: New Imperial Order | Noel Strasza ​

Laughter erupted from the beast as gunfire rained down on it like tears from the sky, shells colliding with an iridescent sphere of energy erected around its body. Miniature explosions peppered its surface, flames racing down its walls - flames that were precisely what the monstrous Sith desired. Heat intensified in the air tenfold, the chemical reaction triggered by the incendiary rounds its catalyst, as the very atomic structure of the material in the air above Darth Mori in her protective bubble excited and accelerated in their vibrations. Oxygen rubbed against nitrogen, both upon carbon, carbon against fragments of iron and tungsten, and the temperature rose until the rounds raining down began to spontaneously combust mid-air and continued the chain reaction further up into the atmosphere between the soldiers targeting her and the Sith lord herself - continued as the molecules in the air repeatedly realigned themselves with each successive degree like a continuous throw of dice.

Friction itself might've done the job, eventually, but the Shi'ido didn't have the luxury of time to wait for her response to rely on something as fickle as static electricity - a forceful nudge on her part led to one electron touching another, a charge induced, which led to another electron reaching for that followed by another, and then another, and another still. Weapons of the modern age were impressive, had the Sith not retained the precognitive nature of the force to inform her of the dangers she'd faced by walking into the proverbial den of lions she might've simply taken a shot to the head and been done with it, such were the speeds at which the projectiles fired at her moved - but even the power to destroy a planet was still insignificant to the power of the force.

An ear-splitting explosion was seen before it was heard as the electric charge in the air between her and the building her assailants stood raced to follow the path of the electrons forced into alignment by the Sith Lord with the help of the excited state of matter in the atmosphere brought on by the heat caused by Noel Strasza and their men, a brilliant arc of white electric light that was followed by a thunderclap. Lightning was what the phenomena was called, being the real deal, and it struck against the wall of the building directly beside the soldiers in an explosive display of raw natural power, precisely as the Shi'ido shifted back into her more human shape and let the bubble that had covered her fade while the force carried her on a sprint forwards with nearly preternatural speed towards the entrance to the very structure that the New Imperial Order had chosen to occupy themselves within.

If death was what they desired they would either need to try much harder or wait until it came for them.

 

[Aaran Tafo]

Quinn Varanin​

With every month, that goes by, he finds himself sunk deeper and deeper into the pit of war that there seemed to be no escape from. The Galactic Alliance and New Imperial Order had gotten what they wanted. The once mighty Sith Empire was falling. Blood was in the water and now the sharks were circling. But the issue lay in that animals were at their most dangerous when scared and cornered.

And the Sith knew a thing or two about weaponizing fear.

But right now none of that mattered. The greater scope of the war, the next move the warriors of the Iron Sun might perform. They were not something he could deal with right now. Instead he had to focus on existing entirely within the moment. Namely ensuring that those who were the true innocents here were protected. Let the old and new Imperial powers of the Galactic north fight to their heart's content. All Aaran cared for was ensuring that no innocents were caught in the crossfire.

His golden blade lanced out, a scintillating web of protective light. Guarding the family behind him as he dipped through the shadows and back alleys in an attempt to lead them to safety. The squad of Sith troopers close behind. Bolts of plasma screaming through the air in an attempt to simply sow as much chaos and panic as possible.

Because that it what it ultimately boiled down to. For all their rhetoric of wanting to bring order and prosperity under authoritarian rule. The Sith were still were ruled by a caste who could quite literally draw strength from cruelty and fear. Doing so not out of sheer pragmatism. But out of the enjoyment of the act of oppressing others.

"Go." He barked, to the family. Able to sense the distant life force of the New Imperial Troopers not too far away. Trusting their civilians to them. Saber spinning to deflect several more shots aimed at the fleeing non-combatants. The troopers knowing that he prized their lives over his own. Knowing that the death of each one would demoralise him and make the Jedi easier to deal with.

Despicable creatures.

From the back of the squad. There was the growling hiss of another lightsaber being activated. A crimson bladed warrior stepping forth from the back of the squad to answer the Jedi's challenge. With a growl of rage and a gesture from their free hand. A young girl clutching her father's hand was yanked backwards through the air. Screaming as she did so.

Only to be snatched from the air by the Warden of Peace. Clutching her tightly to his chest as his saber was raised to defend against the Sith's oncoming blow. Driving the Jedi back several feet as his blade began to flourish. Intent on stalling the tide of crimson death, if only for a moment. Until he could find a way to spare this child from death.