Invasion Rage Awakened (TSE Invasion of NIO Held Bastion & PL-40112-CE-021105)

[Runi Verin]

LOCATION: Ravelin, Bastion
OBJECTIVE: Die, apparently.
GEAR: Vornskr Mk8 Scattergun, Tal Oya’karir, Muun'bajir, Phrik Bracers, Terentatek Duster (Damaged), Asheran Armorweave, Taak’tabi, Nwûl, Tinfoil Hat
ALLIES: NIO (Tangibly)
ENEMIES: Ingrid L'lerim | TSE

As her back was buffeted by the shockwaves of a force scream, Runi prepared herself for what was about to transpire. Knowing even when she had relinquished her weapon that this could only truly end one way.

The Widow needed to feel that she had exacted a life.

The angle of attack wasn't unexpected; the Redhead's fixation on balancing the scales for Adrian's death in the most literal sense made her predictable in that regard. As her assailant closed the distance, the Kiffar's cybernetic arm was already struggling to move into intercept the attack, the blade catching on the back of the reinforced duraplast plating of the hand. Strangely, however, the alchemised weapon appeared to find little in the way of resistance, with the blade sliding easily through and pining the hand to the woman's side.

It was a wave of the Force below. A surge of energy that seemed to vanish as quickly as it had appeared, replaced in kind by a sudden rush of scarlet life blood between the artificial fingers.

A red hot rage poured through Runi's veins, her lips peeling back into a vicious snarl as her freehand rose up, the shadows around the pair seeming to flow and converge to form a crude spear like weapon of pure darkness. Arm rearing back to strike a blow that...

Never fell.

Instead the Kiffar's knees seemed to buckle from beneath her, as if suddenly losing their strength. Her rage contorted expression suddenly a confused mixture of emotion that didn't quite meet her eyes. The shadow weapon vanished like morning mist beneath a hot sun. The Kiffar falling a split second later backwards into the ruined rubble of the alleyway wall, her back slamming painfully against the duracrete and sliding down at an exaggeratedly slow pace.

"Ah..." She gave a half, almost pained chuckle. Her eyes closed as she rested her head backwards, breathing suddenly slowing to a ragged crawl, her presence in the force dimming and flickering like the last remaining embers of a campfire. Struggling to remain lit against the odds. Her last word tumbling with a rush of air that gave the impression that it might very well be her last. "Fierfek."

With that parting, unceremonious curse, her chest stilled and her head dropped forward. Messy black locks cascading to obscure her features as her presence simply vanished within the Force. The alleyway becoming deathly silent.

 

[Ragnar the Blooded]

Location: Ravelin, Bastion
Equipment: Saberstaff, Imperial Knight Armour
Engaging: Alina Tremiru

A long drawn out groan emanated from his throat as he laid on the ground. The crack that the woman had felt, he didn't hear it. His ears were full on the sound of his own heartbeats, of the thumping pain that pulsed. With every passing moment it felt as if it got louder and louder.

What the kark?

One hand planting on the ground, Ragnar pushed down, rising up off of his deactivated saberstaff. Dragging it up with him in his other hand, it clenched into a tight fist, pressing off the ground. If one listened closely they could hear the sound of leather straining as his hand balled up around the hilt. Can't lose to a Sith... What kind of joke would that be? Although he didn't hear them, he knew his ancestors that had come before him, worshippers of the Dark, were laughing.

Mirthless, for seeing your own blood fail was not enjoyable.

The Imperials didn't teach me failure.

From the low kneel he centred his balance in, he rose up to his feet, orange daggers shot at the blonde. "This what you want?" Ragnar rasped.

Kicking up the bottom of the saberstaff that he lightly leaned on, the silver plasmatic blade burst to life. Held on the left side of his body, he launched himself forwards. Into his naturally orange orbs, he sank into the lessons of the past, further back than any Imperial Knight Codex had ever taught him. Lurching forwards, he'd lead with the bottom end of the staff. Through the air, he carved his attempted slash, from the left side of her body and then to her right, he'd attempt to bisect her at the waist and down her right leg.

Regardless of what her response had been, the lit top end came down like a hammer upon her person, as if he sought to cleave her in half.

There was no young Sith that needed to be taught a better way.

A city that spanned an entire continent was ablaze. There was no pretense that there was Good, in this invasion.

 

[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: Ravelin, Bastion
Objective: To find everything that was once Adrian’s property and rescue them if they still exist. Avenge AMCO !
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | G1 OmniLink | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland
Tag: Runi Verin

[ Facing the Ghosts ] ​

Ingrid was generally notorious for her unpredictability in the fight, that she could never know what her next move would be. This was the first time in her life, when she was very predictable. The red-haired woman planned this in her mind that she would end the lives of Runi and Amea Virou in exactly the same way they killed Adrian. It was a duty any clan member would do, for any other member. Tubrok massacred three clans for killing his family. Ingrid reduced this to two persons; two will die because of Adrian's death.

In fact, what happened next surprised even the red-haired woman. Already knew that Runi's arm was working less because she was injured. Ingrid didn't know why she hadn't stepped aside when it was clear what she was up to. She had been an assassin or a soldier for a very long time, which is why she was surprised. If her body was not acting instinctively, even the attack would have stopped, so the blade reached Runi and went over to the right place next to the arm. Ingrid killed countless times this way during her life, with the blade straight into the heart.

One last move, the blade tore up the armor and penetrated between the ribs. Perfect, precise puncture. She left the blade in Runi’s body, also she left it on Adrian's side when she killed him. Pulled her hand back, but did not move away. One in two, but didn't care if Runi killed her with the last move. Saw the snarl, the rising hand, everything was infinitely slow, as if time was about to stop. Just like then on Dantooine…

Felt the anger from the other woman; she envied her for being able to feel that way. Looked into Kiffar's eyes, waiting for the blow because she saw the rising arm, but the blow did not arrive. The red-haired woman also looked into Kiffar's eyes as the emotions appeared in her eyes. Now she realized she was fatally injured. Ingrid looked at the other woman without emotions, didn’t expect it to feel better, it would get easier because it didn’t happen. Nothing has changed, it has not brought reassurance.

Time suddenly accelerated, Runi leaned against the wall, cursed and then lay on the ground; her presence was no longer felt. Ingrid sobbed case on the ground, on her knees; did not mourn the woman, but AMCO . It was still there before her eyes as he died, the last incomprehensible look at how he had not accepted his death. He was so young, so young, he should have lived. It was not fair! There was a silent silence in the alley for a few moments. The Empress shuddered due the sobbing, then…

"ADRIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!" screamed again; another Force scream.

It hurt just like it did then; the nearby windows exploded at once as a result of the scream. She put all her pain into the scream that lasted as long as the woman had air. Nearby buildings collapsed, the ground cracked, splitting, giving way to the area below. Buildings trembled as the spaceport half collapsed. It was stronger now than on Dantooine. At the end, gasping for air, she knelt beside Runi's body. It didn’t get any better, it hurt the same way, the reassurance didn’t come either, but the area looked as if it was after a carpet/saturation bombing. As soon as she was able to do so, sent a telepathic message to Telis Taharin-Zambrano and Joycelyn Zambrano .

~ Runi Verin is dead… ~ that was the message, now she had no more power to explain it any longer.

 

[Felix Astermo]

Location: Tunnels beneath Ravelin, close to Library "ad hoc entrance to Library basements".
Objective: Recover abandoned artefacts, slay the unworthy strange pyromancer.
Equipment: Sith Warblade, Unspecified Talismans, Glorious Golden Mask.
Writing With: Elpsis Kerrigan

In an act of desperation, Aurum had expended the last of his waning reserves to lash out at his foe - success, but too little, too late.

In a mirror to his own actions, she unleashed the entirety of her reserves, the brightest flame yet, even as she toppled to the ground, legs broken by the constricting metal of her own armour. Weakened as it was, there was no way the mask, the face of his new identity and the wellspring of the power he had forged for himself would survive another such blow. Perhaps he could have endured its destruction in some lessened form...

... but he had shed that face and that name the same day he assumed his current mantle. He had cast off the chains of weakness and fragility and by the dark gods of the Sith he would not go back. Power or death, such was the path of the Sith, such was the path he had chosen to walk.

Raising a single battered arm, he drew in and dispersed the infernal lance through masterful tutaminis, but even masters had their limits. Even the Dark Side could not cast off the shackles of the laws of thermodynamics for long, the humidity left in his surroundings turning to sizzling steam.

With an inhuman howl, he brushed aside the last of her efforts, began to clamber to his feet... and then his charred form finally gave out.

Collapsing to the ground with a hollow thud, steam rose from a slowly cooling golden mask, but the Golden Magus was no more.

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

Gear: Elpsis' Armour, Inferno, Uproar Blaster, Hold-out Bolter, Shotgun, Wrist Ion Paddle Beamer, Revolver, Grenades.
Felix Astermo

And so it was done.

Elpsis was already crumpled on the ground by the time the infernal lance struck the Sith. His power absorbed the fiery energy, but even so he was consumed as heat flooded him. What was left was a charred husk. He had fought well. The pyromancer herself was not doing great, to say the least. Her body was a mass of pain, she could not walk given her broken foot, one hand was a mess and several ribs howled in varying states of anguish. Her head hit the ground. Darkness seemed to claim her as she fell unconscious.

An indeterminate period of time afterwards, the sound of boots against the ground could be heard. Some of the fire was still raging and there was smoke in the air. "Clear. There she is." one voice spoke. It was female, but very deep. A Pureblood stepped into view. She was holding a bolter, but lowered it upon seeing there were no foes. "Red?" Bending down, she rolled the prone pyromancer over. "That's what happens when you charge off without me," she grunted, but then a flicker of concern crossed her features. "Elpsis? Frak."

Her companion, who had been standing watch and keeping an eye open for potential ambushers, quickly joined her, sword in hand. She was a Rattataki. Both were clad in suits of armour that were battered and blood-stained. "Is she alive? I'll gut whoever did this to her," Rhea declared fiercely, anger roiling from her. She could feel sparks of electricity crackling across her palms.

"Looks like Red beat you to the punch, Maalraas," the Pureblood - Nyssa - retorted, pointing at the charred husk not far from Elpsis. "Must've been a hell of a fight." Rhea gave the corpse a kick. "Get a hold of yourself. He's dead. Can't feel it anymore anyway. She's still breathing."
"Yes," the Rattataki took a breath, composing herself. "Let's get her out." She was about to join Nyssa, but then picked up on a familiar sensation through the Force. Pushing some stone aside, she found Inferno. "Her sabre," she explained at the Pureblood's questioning look.

"And I drummed into her head not to lose it. Idiot." But she's my idiot. Nyssa slung her rifle over her shoulder and picked Elpsis up. Luckily, the Firemane soldier was fairly light, and the Pureblood was very strong. As she turned away, she saw a glint a of metal out of the corner of her eye. "Check that out."
Obediently, Rhea had a look. The stone the object was buried under was still hot, making her wince as she felt her fingers heat up, so she used the Force to push them away. "The Sith's sword," she stated, lifting up the impressive looking war blade. "I'll take it for her."

"Nice craftsmanship," Nyssa remarked as she beheld the intricate design. "Let's go. Red's tough. She'll pull through." By Typhojem, she better. Or there'll be blood. I'll pile up skulls, she thought. Then she bridal-carried her through the thick smoke.
Rhea followed in her wake. "Maalraas to Gutkuur," she spoke into her commlink, using the call sign of the squad's Sergeant. "Cylix has been extracted. Critical condition. Needs help from Partuz now."

FIN for Elpsis

 

[Laertia Io]

("BFG Division" by Mick Gordon Plays)

Laertia had become slowed in her advance on the street, Imperial Knights and Stormtroopers alike coming in waves, hampering her advance to the fort. They were skilled warriors. But Laertia killed them anyway.

It distressed her, how easily she could discern those patterns in battle. How easily they just leapt out to her. She dodged and weaved with the aid of her armor, teleporting behind crowds, her blade savagely chewing through flesh and armor joint, battering her enemies into submission by sheer virtue of repeatedly striking them again and again with her blade.

She had killed so many, for so long, that it was practically a reflexive act to take a life. She reacted without thinking, hands seemingly controlled by another, planning the strategy out ten steps. Twenty steps, and planning other strategies ten steps ahead in case the current one didn't work.

Her weapons cut past Knight-Level defenses, almost on the verge of knowing the tricks they would use before they themselves did, uncannily deflecting every strike, every stab, drawing on every single ounce of Lightsaber knowledge she possessed to work her vicious offense. Heads and limbs flew off at her blades presence. Guts. Spines ripped out and used as clubs, horrifying her attackers at the brutal savagery that was somehow eerily elegant at the same time.

Elements of a Makashi dance entered her footwork as she gave them battle, spearheading the assault of the CIS Military Units behind her, who brutally dispatched their own enemies with accurate blaster and tank fire.

The NIO, in desperation, blew up the entire street ahead of them, killing many of their own in the process, but it prevented the further advance. Laertia herself was close to the blast as buildings collapsed in on themselves, and was knocked backward along with some knights.

As Laertia hit the ground, she was reminded of the day she had gotten her brain injuries...

All Laertia knew was pain.

A fierce, awful, unending pain from the core of her skull as she woke up amid the wreckage of the crashed shuttle. She couldn't think well. Couldn't fight at all.

Her armor was shattered. Her face mangled by shards of shrapnel. She wasn't sure how she was still alive. She wouldn't admit it until many years later, but she hadn't wanted to survive.

Her heart pounded, and she dragged herself away from the wreckage, not remembering the planet she was on.

Her ship. She had to reach her ship.

She was hot and cold all at once, agony dominating almost as much as the need to escape with her life.

She honestly wasn't sure why she was trying. Ursula could never pay attention to her as much as she paid attention to Uri. Would never pay attention to her as much as she paid attention to Uri. The Marksmen were over. It was done. The dream was dead. Her dreams were dead. Distantly she knew even if she escaped, she had likely sustained career ending injuries. She would likely be an invalid.

As she found her own ship, moving away from the military base she destroyed before trying to kill herself fighting a shuttle, moving over bodies she had torn apart by hand or by Lightsaber. There was no Black Knight at the moment. Just a frightened, broken woman that had tried to go out in a blaze of glory and failed. Dead Imperials and Sith littered her wake. She had seen the depths of their cruelty and had felt nothing at their ending, delivered by her own hands.

It was hard to see.

She didn't realize until she had reached the Dynamic Class Freighter that she was missing her left arm and eye. She was going on that much adrenaline.

Not only had her attempted suicide failed, she was now mangled for it.

Part of her thought about dropping dead in that moment as she stagged aboard her ship. She almost gave up again...

Besides, now that she was alive--her rabbits still needed her...

Laertia remembered her rabbits had been left in the care of a protocol droid at one of her safehouses, who was to give them up for adoption if she didn't return. She could still reach them. She could still be with her babies if she was going to die...

Laertia reached the pilot's seat, and activated the autopilot, not sure what coordinates she punched in before losing consciousness. Perhaps Ursula would finally take the hint and be there when she woke up...

"Rise and shine, Daughter! Rise and Shine!" a familiar, feminine, articulate rasp called out over her.

Laertia opened her eyes, spotted The Amalgam standing over her, clad in her flesh colored, skintight armor with long white gloves and boots holding out her hand, raven hair blowing in the wind of war, dead purple gaze staring with bemusement out of nigh impossibly beautiful features.

Laertia pulled herself up without The Amalgam's help, who nonetheless looked at her eye mutations.

"My my, it didn't take long for you to stop thinking like a Jedi...I mean, you're still absolutely half-assing it by using the Light instead of full-assing it with the Dark, but we will get you to true Sith yet!" The Amalgam gushed.

"Rot in Hell, Amy..." Laertia replied coldly as she stood, revolted at being this close to the rotting Dark Side Nexus within the Witch. "What do you want?"

The Amalgam made a mocking, sad puppy face. "Awww, you looked like you were having a bit of trouble! I figure now was the perfect time for Mommy to swoop in and rain lightning upon the heretics."

"I don't need you help..." Laertia said back quietly, brushing past her.

"You weren't saying that at Dantooine, when Ryv almost cost you the fight in spite of battering him down."

Laertia clenched her fist.

The Amalgam sighed. "Fine, keep pretending you are one of the good ones. You'll be a Sith. Eventually...in the meantime, how about we take a fight to another unit?"

"The way we were heading leads to the Fortress..." Laertia protested irritably.

"And its now closed off. I really must commend you by the way, I've never seen an enemy get that desperate with you..." the SithSpawn gushed.

The Amalgam then activated her purple Split-Saber.

"It'll be fun! Just like old times, me and you, killing any in the way. The new route will take us right into NIO fire, so that's always nice."

"The old times were a lie you constructed." The Black Knight replied flatly.

"Lies can be fun! It just depends on how you tell them!" The Amalgam replied smoothly.

The Black Knight turned to the Witch.

"In that case, I promise your death won't be 'totally' painful. It'll be like a waterslide ride to the grave..."

"Oh, please, you didn't even bother selling that lie. You should work on your deception voice too, because I didn't hear any enthusiasm..." the Amalgam scoffed, handing her the new route

Laertia went back to the CIS Commander.

"Is there anyway we can advance down our route?' Laertia asked.

"They collapsed the buildings. We would need massive demo teams."

Laertia snorted in frustration.

"Tell the rest of your troops to follow the new route the Sith provided..." Laertia ordered. It was not an order that was contested...everyone had seen her competence in war by this point...

The CIS Units began to follow the pair, Laertia keeping ahead of the Amalgam.

"So..." the Amalgam trailed as they walked. "About your girlfriend..."

"That subject will 'never' be open to discussion with you..." Laertia seethed as they moved down a new route closer to the highway.

The Amalgam only smirked at this.

"Your loss..."

Laertia didn't dare ask what she meant. She was too scared too.

Meanwhile.

The Advanced Model 1 working its way through the systems suddenly started finding its breach attempts resisted and thrown out completely. As much as she had been studying their programming, they had been studying hers.

Programmed with a Laertia Io-like determination and approach to problem solving, The Nanite consciousness started leaving signal pings in the system at high security firewals, and started to focus her approach on a few systems.

She sent a severe power surge to the engineering deck. Computer comsoles and power couplings exploded in Engineering. Alarms sounded throughout the ship. The Nanites began physically severing connections to engineering by breaking down key wires and processors...

But they were getting clever, forcing her out. What access she still had to the security systems indicated they were still om the way, bringing high powered magnets in an attempt to draw her out.

No question. A more direct approach was needed.

The Nanites flooded out of a gap, reforming into the biker-gear clad young woman who then picked up a Lightsaber from a Jedi she had slain and began physically attacking visible engine components, depositing nanites to break down and sever vital wirings. This caused a heavy amount of alarms to go off, and the Android attacked anything that looked vital and difficult to repair or replace. If Asmundr Varobalder wanted to stop her, he was going to have to enter the engineering section...

 

[Anden Fancelo]

Bastion
Allies: NIO | GA | Willan Tal | Zakaria Black | Djorn Bline | Noel Strasza | Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt | Creuat | Tyrell Paxxus | Kolson Vrask | DECEASED Erskine Barran | FN-999 | Meko Sorrin | Vostok Grauv
Enemies: TSE | CIS | Lirka Ka

[THEME]
​

SECTOR 7 - Edge of the Fortress

The sheer silence that followed as the two men wandered towards the smokescreen brought a deal of fear to the roof. The fear that crawls up one's spine. The very same that Anden had when faced with the mysterious. It only made the grip to his weapon tighter, and his aim over the batch of smoke more accurate as he was cornered.

Within that cycle of dread...

In the midst of all the tension...

"RAAAAAAAAAAWH!" A man screamed, taken by the hands of the Butcher, and tossed outward to the rest of the squad. Whereas the other? Suffered the blood-curling wrath of the Sephi. The terrifying and morale shattering execution went quick as it ended with the Sephi producing her demand to tremble.

"Tremble before the Dark."

It brought a shiver to the former Gravewalker, witnessing this monster of a being stand before the squad with the same might and brutality prior to being struck by a rocket. Some of the soldiers took a few steps back, getting some distance from the Sephi. The former Gravewalker raised his 58'. Yelling out. "Go to hell!" His flurry of red bolts was produced from his blaster, hopefully connecting to his opponent. The battle was signaled to continue as the soldiers followed suit. Even following their deaths as the Sephi proceeded to eliminate them one by one. Anden kept his bearing, he did not go all this way just to have it end here. The Sergeant of Avala 1-2, had the same goal but not the same mindset. As he proceeded to order: "FALL BACK! GET MOVING!" As he and some of the squad ran off.

With only a pocket of imperial soldiers and Fancelo keeping the monster at bay. The numbers engaging it reduced bit by bit, either by cowardice or being mauled into a pulp. It was inevitable.

And that inevitability was one Anden was happy to meet.

For the Imperator.

 

[Rurik Fel]

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

PROTECT THE LAND
​

The tide was due its turn. The festering miasma emerging through the blackness would be given away with cold steel once more. At the end of argent blades, holy fire and indomitable ordinance. As they always had, as they always will. Until the Darkness died and a peace beneath this New Order reigned across the Galaxy proper.

But that shimmering dawn of peace had yet to come. Today was the reckoning. The day to put more of the scions of darkness through the killing fields, to further quell the Galaxy of its malfeasance forever.

His argent cut through one, another. He willed the Force to his command in his sole organic hand, pulling them toward him in an agonizing yank of the mortal shell before cutting them down right in two in his slow, methodical and brutal approach to his Knights. They should have never had to march into this fight without him. But they were the knights of the Empire.

They would endure.

As he had. As the True Empire had.

"Knights of the Empire! Form a defensive line!"​

He barked out in command to his Knights and those with him as he pressed further into the chamber, the argent blade cutting down a Sith acolyte with two swipes of the weapon before he peered toward the Inquisitor, Xeykard . Immediately following the swipe of his blade toward the Tusken, Rurik spoke up.

Just as the Sith reached out in its phantom, choking grasp of his enemy, he'd soon feel it lurking around his own neck, Rurik willing his iron grip through the Force in an attempt to asphyxiate the life from the Inquisitor.

"You are nothing...and you have met your end."​

ALLIES | NIO | NJO | Ryv | Tulan Kor | DT-7343 'Jabber' | Jin Kyrel | Hans Rennagen | Romi Jade | Agrrur'arr | Joneleth Tarkin | Areyon | Dorian Sicarrio | Elicia Hejaran | Jaeger Harrsk | Aaran Tafo
ENEMIES | TSE | CIS | Darth Vulcanus | Xeykard | Quinn Varanin | OPEN

 

[Ripley Kühn]

:// POST III | Ravelin, near Maximilian Heights//:
:// ALLIES: GA | NIO | Enlil //:
:// ENEMIES: TSE | CIS | Lark //:
:// EQUIPMENT: ARMOR | LIGHTSABER //:​

​

The acolyte showed no remorse. The devious smirk across his face unnerved Ripley. It was as if he knew something she didn’t. Amber eyes stared her down, looking for any sign of weakness. ​

She saw the blade fly before it ever left his hand. A grey blur, infused with a potent aura of darkness. As it came towards her, she pivoted on her heel, turning her body to the side. It streaked past her, the deadly blade glimmering in the light from the fires that had begun to rage in the distance. ​

Her head turned to see Lark falling on her in a frenzied attack. The zeltron stumbled a couple of steps back, gasping in pain. She had no time to dwell on the throbbing agony. Her hands brought her own blade down, meeting his inches from her legs. She grunted as she pushed against his strength, her own lacking with one leg crippled. She stared the sithling down as the blade began to move, her parry turning his blade away just enough for an opening. She gave no quarter as her own saber was raised, then swung into a wide arc, aimed at his torso. ​

.

 

[Lark]

Allies: TSE
Enemies: NIO, Ripley Kühn
Location: Bastion

Smoke billowed like a hundred bonfires suddenly lit in unison, the crackles of fire reminded Lark of both the horrors of nature and the warmth of home. A home like Bastion, which the NIO had stolen from him. He remembered those warm nights in his dormitory, reading text after text of material that had never been offered to him before. Such delightful traditions had vanished as the Empire's former capital fell to the forces of a faction who had only ever sought the destruction of the things Lark held dear. No longer. No longer would he allow the NIO continue their crusade. First he would reclaim Bastion. And then all of the other worlds that had been taken under the guise of liberation.

The Zeltron Jedi danced around his enchanted dagger, elegant even when wounded. And her strength was even more deceptive. With technique that was assuredly honed day after day on whatever planets she trained on, she met his own strike with only a minor stumble. Their gazes briefly met as they clashed, and Lark could sense the woman's own desires. Did the fool really think she was helping?

A quick motion forced his blade backwards with surprising speed, and hardly a moment later a counterattack was directed towards him. He let himself fall backwards from the Jedi's push, rolling on the dusty ground to avoid her strike. With another flick of his hand he sent a gust of ash and soot towards the Jedi in an attempt to briefly blind and disorient her, all the while pulling on the enchanted dagger that had sailed harmlessly by her. Though it had landed a distance away and was not exactly close, it flew once more, guided by the invisible hands of the Force, straight towards her back.

 

[Cormac Thire]

P E N I T E N T
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
SEVENTH FLEET | BATTLE GROUP 'GILAD PELLAEON'​

Spoiler: Battlegroup Gilad Pellaeon | Var's Command

F L A G // : NIV Penitent | Pellaeon IV | 2000m [ 100 // 100 ] NIV Dissident Aggressor | Unique | 10000m [ 100 // 100 ] BATTLECRUISERS //: NIV Parabola | Phaetra | 3000m [ 100 // 63 ] DESTROYERS //: NIV Arbiter...... | Pellaeon IV | 2000m [ 100 // 72 ] NIV Imperial Fist | Pellaeon IV | 2000m [ 100 // 89 ] NIV Antares Draco | Pellaeon IV | 2000m [ 100 // 100 ] NIV Jao Assam.... | Pellaeon IV | 2000m [ 100 // 100 ] NIV Warpstorm..... | Tartarus | 2000m [ 100 // 98 ] FRIGATES //: NIV Bola One.. | Vanto | 500m [ 100 // 100 ] NIV Bola Two.. | Vanto | 500m [ 100 // 85 ] NIV Bola Three | Vanto | 500m [ 100 // 91 ] NIV Bola Four. | Vanto | 500m [ 100 // 84 ] NIV Pilam One.. | Tirailleur | 500m [ 100 // 92 ] NIV Pilam Two.. | Tirailleur | 500m [ 100 // 72 ] NIV Pilam Three | Tirailleur | 500m [ 100 // 89] NIV Pilam Four. | Tirailleur | 500m [ 100 // 98 ] NIV Pilam Five. | Tirailleur | 500m [ 100 // 65 ] NIV Pilam Six.. | Tirailleur | 500m [ 100 // 53 ] NIV Gladius One.. | Cuirassier | 1000m [ 100 // 95 ] NIV Gladius Two.. | Cuirassier | 1000m [ 100 // 89 ] NIV Gladius Three | Cuirassier | 1000m [ 100 // 72 ] NIV Gladius Four. | Cuirassier | 1000m [ 100 // 82 ] CORVETTES //: Several Squadrons | Caçadore Several Squadrons | Gurkha Several Squadrons | Vandal STARFIGHTERS DEPLOYED //: Several Wings | TIE/OT Outlander Several Wings | Petard Droid Starfigher Several Wings | TIE/HF Slasher Several Wings | IPLT-01x Excursor Star Sloop Several Wings | TIE/INx Interceptor Several Wings | TIE/VX Vanguard Several Wings | TIE/HB Bruiser Heavy Bomber Several Wings | TIE/GA Mauler Ground Attack

BATTLE GROUP "Gilad Pellaeon" Var Koon TASK FORCE "Antares Draco" Rurik Fel ​

​

OVERTURE​

The Sith fleet had begun to drop the hammer at Var Koon's approach, his lurch into the void against the invading force, in an attempt to seize the initiative and disrupt any maneuver to form up and align cohesively. Onrai's ships battered the forward approach of Var Koon's formation as they began to close the gap with the Sith fleet.

Konstantine piped up with the developing battle. The young officer always had something to say. The Kel Dor never minded, such was his duty. A second pair of eyes, an insightful opinion in spite of the lesser experience.

"The Lord Executor's Task Force has emerged from hyperspace, of course it is our interdictors which are active and thus they have come to fortify our rear." Artor states.

"The Dissident Aggressor, Two Pellaeons and his corvettes was it not?" Var Koon inquired in kind to Konstantine, seeing the very ships emerge into real space.

"And the command is yours, it seems the Antares Draco has already begun to supplement our ground forces...I only hope its enough."

"It carries a bulk of the Imperator's Fist...and this is the Imperator's world. We will not lose this day, Konstantine. Have the Dissident Aggressor hold near Bastion it will be the last component of our push and for now, the last line of defense over Ravelin."

"And he's no where to defend it- apologies, Admiral but..."

"And that excuses us from our duty? No. We are not to be expecting his guiding hand in each and every engagement, Konstantine. The Empire will not bend. You do not know the greater context of what is at work here, all that is known...our vessels protect our world and their vessels come to take it from us. Continue the thrust of the spearhead, Task Force Gilad Pellaeon will reinforce while the central bulk loosens out to cast our net. We continue forward." The Kel Dor states.

"Understood...but we need to start inflicting real damage, we've taken nothing but shield damage with hardly anything making a deal dent in their forces from here...are you sure we should be taking the offensive?"

"If we are, they are not. If they have no room, no time and no ability to establish their own formations then anything they attempt to do to relief the planetary assault force will be thwarted." He iterates.

The fleet continued its crawl forward.

"Place the Gorgon's main weapon as a priority target, sooner it is disabled, then the longer they are rooted in anxiety of the plausibility to victory here."

H A M M E R - L E A D E R
Artem Strag
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
181st STARFIGHTER GROUP
HAMMER SQUADRON
TIE/HF Slasher | Flight Suit

SEE YOU IN HELL
​

Finally, our first catch of the day. The biggest at that. As soon as the Gorgon's UBeam cannon flicked on the target list, I pinged it for Hammer immediately. Two squadrons of interceptors were attached to us immediately. We'd need it to get through their line and manage ourselves past the point defense. Then a 'Mauler' squadron was assigned all the same. They wanted this thing gone. Understandably so, it was the common doctrine of the 7th Fleet. Take away their most valuable weapons and make them uncomfortable. Make them play with their hands behind their back. Var Koon did anything in his power to make the opposing commanders uncomfortable.

<"Back in formation, split your power between shields and engines, whatever it can take."> We were headed into the thick of it and I didn't much care for survival, I just wanted to inflict damage. My family, or what was left of it was nothing but a burning memory. The Hammer of past and the Hammer of now would be too if I survived, I didn't give a damn anymore, I just wanted to cut a bloody swathe on the way out and have the last laugh.

<"Copy, Hammer Leader."> I could hear the fear, the reluctance in her voice. She knew damn well what she was getting into. This was the 181st and we were the Hammer. In the Civil War alone, this squadron had been through about three full rosters of flyboys. It was due another. I didn't give a damn if I paid tribute.

The interceptors swarmed up around us to give the cover against their space superiority and point defense. The best of the Empire and they were still chopped through in piece meal. We closed in on the prow of the Gorgon and it was time to drop the hammer.

<"Alright- all power to weapons. Unload turbolasers and all ordinnance, don't stop until all reads zeroes and then you're evac code Cresh, regroup on my call.">

Five...four...three...two....one.

Concentrating the fire of all my formation unto the sole area of the ship, the prow mounted UBeam, we made our Nova Flare shine.

<"All of it! Fire fire fire!"> I barked out in command with vitriol, my finger squeezed the trick of the yolk, firing out cold emerald turbo lasers as I let loose the full volley of disruptor missiles toward the ship. Everything was spent before I normalized my power allocation and swerved out of the direction of the hull of heavy metal growing closer to meet me.

THE WILL OF DEFIANCE
Fiolette Fortan | Savoh Muska | Naier Rambeigh | Des Harz | Kormov Alten

THE PARASITES
Grand Moff Aut-X | Moff Drybis Lyken | Onrai

FLEET ACTIONS
Main formation of Var Koon's force is forming a spearhead to engage and enclose TSE forces.
Task Force 'Gilad Pellaeon' enters the battle, deploys defensively.
Starfighters move to hit the UBeam cannon on the Gorgon with a Novaflare to disable the weapon.​

 

[Tyrell Paxxus]

D E A D M A N
FORTRESS IMPERATOR // BASTION
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
GRAND VIZIER
(Harrsk actions written with permission.)
「 H I G H _ C O M M A N D 」

​

Tyrell's nose cracked with hollow collapses with every headbutt Jaeger planted. Congealed, black ooze dripped from the disfigured cartilage. Pallid skin had hardly reddened or swelled in the slightest. The final blow saw his head whip back, neck bones popped, leaving his head jarred at a backward lean.

"HOW ARE YOU ALIVE, TYRELL?!"​

The Grand Vizier's eyes drifted down, gazing forward from his head's decline. Hands seized the side of his head. With a yank, bones wailed a sickening crackle as his head was forced back into place.

"In a manner of speaking, Commissioner-"

A step forward.

"I've been given a second chance."

A step forward.

The Commissioner's blaster muzzle screamed. A streak of red flew across the command center and hit Tyrell's chest with a thud. It hardly evoked more than a small lurch to the side. There was a smoking scorched spot lingering over his heart.

A step forward.

Another shot. This time Tyrell weaved, lunging forward with the enhanced speed granted by Project Lazarus. In a near-instant, he'd seized the blaster still gripped in Harrsk's hand, and twisted his wrist to pointed it back toward him.

"It is a great shame; to be forced to persist after such a failure. But, I am grateful. You should be too."

Jaeger Harrsk | Elicia Hejaran​

 

[Ripley Kühn]

:// POST III | Ravelin, near Maximilian Heights//:
:// ALLIES: GA | NIO | Enlil //:
:// ENEMIES: TSE | CIS | Lark //:
:// EQUIPMENT: ARMOR | LIGHTSABER //:​

Her eyes widened as the dirt fell into them, tears instantly welling. The dust filled her lungs as she gasped once more, choking her. A cough led to another. Then another. The zeltron struggled to breath through it, but she was consumed by the fit, the ash burning her lungs. Her chest rose and fell as she heaved. She rubbed her eyes, attempting to clear her vision. It did little, only causing more tears to fall.

In her blind struggle, the dagger came forth, landing in a break of her armor just below the hip of her wounded leg. The blade easily passed through the mesh of the bodysuit. A squeal of pain burst from the knight as she reached for the source. Looking down, vision still blurry, blood poured forth from the small wound. She angrily ripped the dagger out with a grunt, tossing it aside.

Her blood began to boil as the effects of the alchemy kicked in. She looked to Lark, a seething glare cast upon him. At that moment, she saw him as the embodiment of the Sith Empire. Dirty tactics, marginalizing on the chaos caused. In the force around her, she could feel soldiers dropping like flies, falling to those who sought to subjugate Bastion once more. A spark began to ignite into a roaring fire as her rage surged.

“No, no…” She murmured under breath.

Use it. Let it fuel you. Their power can only be beaten by that of equal.

Ripley gasped, blinking. Her every cell felt as though it was being torn apart. The light within her quickly faded, replaced by a darkness that fed on the pain. Her eyes reopened, a bright yellow.

The zeltron took a step towards the sithling, her mangled foot screaming. It only further fed the blaze in her chest.

​

.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

V i n d i c a t e _ A c t u a l

307th Stormtrooper Legion // Darth Sybila
Task //: Evacuate Intercept Destroy Recalibrate

M y_ N a m e_ I s_ H u m a n

Tenebrae Armor / Hand Of God / BR-212-'Jackal' ACR / BH 'Durin' Charric Blaster Pistol / Light Saber (s) / Void Grenade

​

The dark tar like smoke drifted down the line of armor, troopers slashed in red pushed up the roadway. Fire erupted wildly from a line of armor down the avenue as the last of the Riders made work-if there was a place to flee they’d be routed out. Blaster bolt ricocheted and whizzed past but Lyra pressed through the haze, her gauntlet drifted out as her fingers grazed the remains of the durasteel machine.

If they could close down the last Avenue, they could regroup and move on-

It was a burning sensation that crept up her spine and led her by the nose, and the woman turned around painfully slow. The likes of the commando unit and Riders revolve around one another but one trooper alone stood out. She spied the likes of Djorn there on the roadway. It was the first time she had come face to face with the likes of him, the HUD displaced a file that she overridden.

Shutting down the program with a few uttered words, she didn’t care and something told her he didn’t know. The sparking mess left in her wake, the next worst kept secret. Her gauntlet trailed down the rifle as she reloaded, slamming her palm on the powercell locking it in-taking her damn well time. It would be a shame if he found an extra bolt to his back one day and she scoffed at the thought. She tilted her helmet, lips pressed in to a thin line-unseen.

<”Wipe that look off your face Snake,”> Lyra taunted as she turned back, the woman lurched forward; feet pounding down the blacktop. The woman was absorbed in the distancing fire fight, signal light flickering-<”Let’s clean it up here.”>

A sole agreement. She pressed her back almost mechanically as she brought the rifle to sights, staring down the burning roadway, mouthing each shot silently as she counted down the dwindling powercell. A burst of three shots chased down a black clad phantom, dropping the S-IMP soldier before he could reach cover. The second tank’s hatch was ripped open by a trooper as she passed the trapped machine, a charge dropped inside and shut tight; the metal door echoed as they hurried out of the blast zone.

A red glaring bolt sung past and Lyra’s knees hit the pavement first, a heavy repeater had been hefted up down the road as the S-IMP forces entrenched themself near the remains at the end of the column of armor. Her head swiveled around as she scrambled for cover amongst the other troopers forced off the road. Appw’rii stood out amongst them, her gauntlet sweeping down her shoulder-

<”You’re still smoking Colvy,”> the Captain’s voice was pressed hard by the thick of the fight.

<”Ma’am we’re receiving a forwarded distress signal. It’s been passed through three platoons-”>

<”Who is it? Why hasn’t a closure team assisted?”> Lyra ground out, hand dropping to her hip as she passed the Captain her last Null to pop. The canister was hefted out down the roadway, the metal clinked away before the midroad was filled by the proliferating smoke.

<”It’s a string of codes ma’am following your serial number, it’s a priority transmission. Black Quandary? Protocol Three failure? I have an incomplete grid mark..”>

Lyra halted as the rest of the squad pushed up, the echo of the blast plate followed as they disappeared under the smoke. The Comms’ Officer droned on. Doubt itself wretched itself in her gut and Lyra exhaled on fell swoop; numb. The minutes dragged out as the fighting pushed down the road, a tanker had tried to drive through the remains of armor company-crashing in to complex and jamming their gun. A sinking feeling rose and Lyra knelt then for a second time, rooted there at the edges of the roadway as the city burned. A chunk of cement served as fine enough cover and she realized Appw’rii hadn’t advanced. She traded a silent look with the woman, holding up a hand to keep stationed.

<”What is their location?”> she choked out, reaching out to steady herself on Nima. She..she couldn’t fathom there for a moment the boys were trapped-whatever reason that would delay. Lyra clung to the woman and Nima’s hand clasped her wrist, trying to shake her from her stupor. Were they caught in the fall out or had the Fortress itself fallen, a strangled cry crept from her.

<”Colvy whats going on..? Who is it?”>

<”It’s the boys..their assigned team. It’s a distress signal, they haven’t gotten out yet..”> She felt half mad admitting, her voice quaked and Nima cursed.

<”Go, we’ll hold the line.”>

<”Nima-”>

<”Lyra!”> the woman shook her like a ragdoll, <”Find them, go now! Take Snake, I’ll keep Arroyo and the rest.”>

The woman nodded her head dumbly, her gauntlets slapped the pavement as she pushed herself up. Lyra staggered back as she spared Nima one last glance, she was going to wretch-she was going to throw up.

<”Snake..change in plans. Fall in behind me-”>

<”I’m not giving up the fight Vindicate, what is it-”>

<”Priority targets Snake. The..Imperators children, they didn’t reach evac..,”> Lyra over-ridded the link, it felt like a lie. Her children...The detached nature from her children and their enigmatic leader. She really was going to puke and the fear pushed her. She raised her hand, fingers brushing the lip of her helmet-she couldn't breath. No one knew, and she had to steel herself. She’d say something foolish, she cost them-cost herself. Lyra broke into a full sprint as she fell back down the sundered roadway. <”We’re to rendezvous and secure them immediately double time.”>

<”Copy that, we’re behind you.”>

Where the fuck was Irveric? She’d never forgive him for this. Where, the single word played like a broken holo through her mind. Where the fuck was the father of her children? How could he do this to them? A city stood between her and her children and she didn’t care. Djorn’s name could be stacked alongside the fallen if it had to be. Civilian or not, trooper or not-she’d concern herself with it later. There was no other priority, she bore her teeth as a snarl bubbled from her chest, the sound of boot fall fell in behind her as she maneuvered down through the roadway.

It’s a damn good thing he didn’t argue, she wanted to scream and she bit her tongue to tame the rage. She was wide awake now, adrenaline coursing through her. Somewhere she bordered between sanity, eyes burning and chest heaving. Lyra let the rifle slip from her grip as she wove it over her shoulder. Her gauntlet caught the sleep hilt strapped under her flak, the saber molded in her hand as she didn’t hesitate to ignite the crimson blade. They’d find a way to scrub it from any report, they always did.

---

​

ALLIES | NIO | SOM | Djorn Bline Creuat Willan Tal DECEASED Erskine Barran Kolson Vrask FN-999 Vostok Grauv
ENEMIES | TSE | OPEN

 

[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: Ravelin, Bastion
Objective: To find everything that was once Adrian’s property and rescue them if they still exist. Avenge AMCO
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | G1 OmniLink | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland
Tag: Runi Verin

[ Never ending Grief and Sorrow ] ​

It took long minutes for the crying to stop, all while feeling the hug of Adrian all the way through the amulet, the feelings the soulshard wanted to comfort her with. They also only temporarily brought relief, only partially reducing the pain, as she knew exactly that it was not a reality, even if she felt like it. Just a memory image like memory crystals. She would have been infinitely glad if the soulshard had been sentient; but it was just a dream.

She got up from the ground with great difficulty, still trembling. With telekinetics, flew her helmet over and picked it up. She had one more thing to do, looked at Runi's body and then reached out to the Force. Made the appropriate hand gestures with her hands and uttered a few words, summoning an Ember Wanderer. Although she would have had the physical strength to take the woman's body to one of the Sith camps to send the body back to Dromund Kaas to the imperial court, she did not want to carry the body.

The demon appeared and the Empress instructed it what to do. The floating demon picked up the body from the ground and followed the woman. Since the Sith forces were now quite inside the city and thanks to this, Ingrid was no longer in front of them, but behind the lines, they could move backwards without any obstacles. She was not a coward, and wanted to return to the battlefield as soon as she had handled this matter, but it was important to her. Whatever the woman did, she was a Zambrano; for this reason Ingrid acted according to her own traditions and did not leave the body there.

When she found one of the Sith teams, managed to get a biker, with which she was able to take the body back to camp, where she also put the body on one of the dropships. It will hopefully get back to Dromund Kaas now, but in the meantime; Ingrid turned back to the city, there was still a war here that had to be won.

Last post.

 

[Dimitri Voltura]

ALLIES: UX-0626 | Iasha Rha | Alina Tremiru | Kesran Opadal
ENGAGING: Halketh
OTHER ENEMIES: New Imperial Forces and Allies
NEW: Survive
GEAR:

Spoiler

Lightsaber
Force Imbued Sith Blade
Force Imbued Cortosis-weave Sith Armour

IN THE END​

It was raw annihilation.

He suddenly wished that he had no physical sight either. His field of vision was blurry due to the amount of blood seeping out of his eyes, but he could still see the complete and utter destruction he and the man he was now protecting, had wrought. The pure horror of it.

A masterful symphony all the same.

Bodies were either vaporised or torn apart as the sheer power sped over them. Windows were blown out and some buildings crumbled to the bucking ground, crushing unfortunate souls into the earth, buried alive. It was terribly beautiful to behold, wracking away at his guilt. Pink-tinged tears mingled with the blood to run in crimson rivers down his face and splattering his armour.

An eternity of torment indeed.

Upholding the barrier drew hard on his already fatigued soul. He could easily have fed on the death that rode in waves across the battlefield in front of the Fort, yet was too distraught to even think of it.

How weak you have become.

Dimitri closed his eyes at these words, as if that would make them less real. He still did not answer the Snake. He had long since given up on trying to shut out the dead Sith Lord from an era long passed.

The fatigue had built up to physical pain as the power of the destruction pressed down on him, his face covered in gore as the blood crept down, painting his armour even a brighter crimson. The once mighty Dragon's arms shook under the pressure as he pushed himself to uphold the only protection they had. Until the pressure eased slightly.

An added strength.

His eyes flew open. He could feel the same strength brushing against him before he caught sight of the Miralukan digging into the earth next to him. The man was feeding from the annihilation around them. With the added stability, the Obsidian Lord drew breath.

A moment of peace between two controversial warriors.

The questions that came then made the Snake in his head chuckle. It gets stuck in your throat, doesn't it? Dimitri's jaw clenched for a second at these words before he sighed, even as the space between falling duracrete blocks was getting longer.
"Honour comes at a price. It drives one to wars that is not one's own." he said, not taking his eyes from the barrier in front of him. "I am weary. Yet, what would there be left for you and me if true peace is achieved? It seems neither you nor me can stay away from the carnage for long. In the end, we are both creatures that thrive on the Darkness that reigned here today." he added, his voice course from the strain.

An eternal curse to live off the death of others

 

[Alina Tremiru]

Ragnar the Untested

​

Hate and anger kept her on her feet. Kept her focused. Let the world around her burn and break from the war. Only one thing mattered now. To win. Her eyes narrowed on the Zabrak as he finally got to his feet. This was what she wanted. To not feel useless. Even if he meant nothing to his order. Even if he was a nameless cur that could of easily been beaten by any of her fellow acolytes, by her master, the only thing that mattered was that she would beat him. As he charged she lifted her blade overhead.

Falling avalanche. Djem So. Those were the terms for the strike she'd seen. She was by no means even capable of saying she used any formal saber style, but it didn't mean she couldn't try to use it. His upward strike came and she slammed her blade down with all her might. Almost all her might. She'd been watching. Learning. The saber staff had two ends to be warry of, and she knew, knew, that if she slammed against the bottom blade the top would come down in response.

She slammed her broken foot forward, worsening the injury, but refusing to let that stop her. Her blade came back up, as if to stop the falling strike. She knew she couldn't. She had no momentum, and the blade had his with her own. That was the feint. Just before their blades collided she twisted. The planted foot had her spring forward, just under the strike. And just before her red blade touched the silver one, it ceased to exist.

She put everything she had in this feint. Once the blade passed by she reignited her blade. His armor wouldn't let her cut through him, but she could still beat him down. All in a moment she brought the red glow past his blade to slam into his chest, using it like a bat with that inhuman strength that propelled her forward and fueled her swing.

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

Lord-Major Erskine Barran
1st Galidraani-Volunteers Armoured-Infantry Brigade,"Tal's Devils"
2nd Battalion,"Blue-Hearts"
New Imperial Order

LOCATION: Fort Imperator

ALLIES: Willan Tal Zakaria Black Enedina Tal Vostok Grauv Djorn Bline
Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Tyrell Paxxus Creuat Kolson Vrask Meko Sorrin FN-999 Halketh Noel Strasza

The morning sky was beginning to break into full light as the smoky mist began to dissipate properly, revealing the plumes of smoke from the burning of the killed-again undead corpses, still enveloping what was left as the Blue-Hearts advanced closer towards the enemy crash-site. Intending to get close enough to see their allies in the distance, the 2nd Battalion would then surround the area to form a protective semi-circle barrier for the remaining NIO units, defending their backs against any who would attempt to break through the perimeter. All were ready to lay their lives on the line one last time for glory, each Blue-Heart standing with fiery determination in their eyes, visibly poised for the final fight of the battle on Bastion.
Aht's right, lads. Relish it.... Relish it like yees were born ti it!

The sun's warm glow glinted off the painted metallic surface of the Cataphracts, along with that of all the walkers littered around the perimeter, watching the horizon as the imposing outline of Fort Imperator stood unconquered in the distance. The Lord-Major decided to take an opportunity to drink from his hipflask, enacting the same need for whiskey in his guardsmen as they took off their helmets to do the same thing; there was a noticeable lull in activity among the Blue-Hearts, and even more so on the ground between FN-999's tanks and their own. The fighting behind them was slowly beginning to idle, as all the remaining Sith-affiliated units in the area began to fall like dominoes to the combined efforts of all the NIO contingents bearing down on the crashed airship, so the freedom (and time) to drink whiskey was there for all of Rhone's men to make the best of.

'Go for it, lads. Though I'd keep some for the end, eh? We'll be marking the end o' one battle, an' preparing our souls for another. Helgard awaits, gentlemen!'

Looking to the skies as he lifted the little steel hipflask to his lips, Lord Erskine smirked as he saw friendly ships easing into the atmosphere like little beacons of light; bearing hope for the New Imperial Order and the Galactic Alliance, and damnation for all who still dared face them on a doomed planet. The Imperator's will was nigh upon them, and the destruction would light up an already-brightening day as the light of a thousand suns brought death to all the Sith's denizens on Bastion, and Barran was comically-livid that it was ending all too soon. Then after drinking a deep swig, the Lord-Major stopped to dwell on his sudden silly indignation, chuckling at the thought of being angered by early-salvation as he screwed the lid back on.
It's no about being able ti withstand the entirety, we're needed elsewhere. Somewhere Heggy wished ti reach....

<"Coyle ti Blue-Heart Alpha! Good news, every last wan o' the procedures was a success. Vostok will pull through, Milord. An' though there were plenty complications in the process, yer giant acquaintance will live ti fight another day.">

'Good news? This is excellent news, Leftenant Coyle! Thanks for passing that along, Blue-Heart Alpha out!'

The good fortunes were finally rolling in for the NIO, and the update on the Dark Troopers' commander was just the latest in a long run of relieving reports in the local comms channel, and much like he did at the start of the battle, Barran had turned up the speaker and left it to broadcast the activity at it's loudest volume-setting. Fortunately for the exhausted Lord-Major, Coyle had relayed the message in local-comms, so everyone within earshot of any comms devices heard the news, and the Blue-Hearts' cheers and applause was all Barran needed to hear to know he didn't need to shout it out for their sake.

'What now, Milord? Should we move back to the fort?'

All of Barran's men were jubilant, but everyone was habitually choosing to stay resolute in the face of the Sith's lessened (though still-constant) threatening presence, so the 2nd Battalion of the Galidraani volunteers were still somewhat wary for a surprise-attack on the horizon; the Blue-Hearts were always big proponents of,"It ain't over 'til it's over!", as it had kept the former-mercenaries among them alive for so long, even on Bastion they knew to remain completely adherent to this way of thinking. Thinking of such as Guard-Sergeant Rhone waited for his answer, Erskine couldn't help but remember this fact as he thought on the sergeant's question, though the Lord-Major didn't take long to reach his,'No!', verdict. Though it looked as if his allies were almost in the clear, Barran wanted no unnecessary risks to be made on their part.

'Fine, then at least let me scout the ground between us and the 19th Assault Company. It won't take long, Milord.'

Letting them run off with little more than a hand-signal to send them off, Barran cared little about the situation in that moment, basking in the light of the morning sun as the guards ran off with rifle-bayonets gleaming just as brightly as the tank and walkers behind them. The reports from Rhone on his return were mostly uneventful, finding occasional enemy survivors in small droves, meeting with Karelin in the middle and giving him a drink of the Cladhan-822, and one last encounter that Lord Erskine hadn't counted on; one of the guardsman had seen something he hadn't quite believed, made all more difficult for the private to believe due to his overall scepticism towards matters of a spiritual nature. The private, though he was every part as exhausted as his brothers-in-arms, was adamant he'd seen the ghost of Leftenant Jorie standing atop an overturned APC, a sight that still had in the man in a shaken state when they returned to the Blue-Hearts' defensive perimeter.
Ah guess we're aw seein' ghosts after that madness, so we'll see soon enough if the superstitious-nature takes hold in their hearts.
​

​

 

[Elicia Hejaran]

Objective 1: Fortress Imperator
Allies: Jaeger Harrsk
Opponents: Tyrell Paxxus

The brawl between the two NIO seniors continued as the turbolift inched closer. Elicia had limited time to both assist Harrsk in his brawl with the Grand Vizier and make adequate preparations for the imminent arrival of stormtrooper swarms. Harrsk would have to manage on his own, otherwise neither of them would survive when Paxxus's backup arrived.

She had jacked into the access control panel to see if she could remotely slow or stop the progress of the turbolift to no avail. Even with the access cylinders she had just looted from the NIO general, either she lacked the prowess or the clearance to accomplish such a feat. There was no time left. Hurriedly retreating from the turbolift doors as the whooshed open, she rolled a thermal detonator inside before scurrying around the nearest corner for cover.

The results were deadly, but far from decisive. Beyond the explosion and the screams of terror and agony from those unfortunate enough to fall victim to the blast, squads of troopers had already siphoned out from the lift and opened fire. Elicia was their most direct target, having actually returned fire when she could, but it was clear that she was outnumbered, and thus outmatched in her current position. Some of the less fortunate troopers had made the mistake of firing in the direction of Harrsk, putting the Grand Vizier they were sworn to defend at risk. Those stormtroopers did not live to continue their siege, with more loyal officers trimming their own line.

Between the volleys of blaster fire, the distinct sound of another blaster pierced through the air. Harrsk had resorted to shooting the Vizier. For what moments she could spare to watch, Elicia was dumbfounded. Not only did the shots not kill him, they hardly seemed to phase him. She had figured that Paxxus being a monster was just a figure of speech, but now it was more apparent that the saying was more grounded in reality than one would have thought.

Elicia continued her defense from the incoming platoon of stormtroopers, peaking around the corner to let off more carefully aimed shots than those of the imperial military. Once more glancing to apprise herself of the brawl, her eyes widened ever so slightly in shock of how quickly the Vizier had closed the space with her colleague. Harrsk's hand still held the blaster, but it was firmly in control of Paxxus as he grotesquely twisted it to face Harrsk himself.

Quickly lobbing another thermal detonator in the direction of the encroaching troop, there was a brief gap in blaster fire as the stormtroopers sought cover from the imminent blast that would follow.

"Harrsk!", she shouted. It wasn't a cry of desperation, but rather for attention. Drawing her vibroknife from its sheath, she slid it across the gleaming floor just to the left of the COMPNOR commissioner. Seeing that blasters had minimal effect, she had directed her wrist blaster to the Vizier and let off a trio of slugs aimed for his upper torso. She didn't expect him to die. She didn't expect him to react. If anything, she had hoped that the brief intervention would be unexpected just enough to buy a moment of hesitation - to create a window of opportunity for Jaeger Harrsk to exploit.

With another audible whoosh, the turbolift doors had once more slid open with several squads of stormtroopers filing out adding their blasters to the siege. Her thermal detonators were no more. She had used the last of them to create an opening for her just to try and create one for Harrsk.

The task at had is the only one that matters. If it was not completed in these next crucial moments, it could spell their last.

 

[Gallius Orcana]

ALLIES | NIO | GA | Rurik Fel | Des Harz | Var Koon | Savoh Muska | Naier Rambeigh | Fiolette Fortan | Gordon | Dracken Pryce
ENNEMIES | TSE | EE | CIS | Grand Moff Aut-X | Grand Moff Decimus | Moff Drybis Lyken | Onrai | Thaelius Ordo | SV-2121 | Laertia Io


NIV PRIDE OF THE EMPEROR

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
THIRD FLEET

THE DOOM DESCENDS​

The repairs were almost over. In a few hours, the crew had worked harder than ever to put the Pride of the Emperor back into combat state. Although the hull was badly mauled at some places, specifically on the belly, most of the interior was functionnal again. Some battle stations lacked crew, but Gallius could expect his ship to fight at almost 57% of its capacity, not a bad score considering the fight it had been through. The shields were up again, the hull sealed and impervious to the cold void of space. The engines were suffering from the abusive employment they had been pu to during the race through the Sith fleet, but still they were able to propell the vessel fast enough to daze any ennemy battleship that would try and destroy it.

Gallius and his staff had moved to the secondary bridge for the continuation of the operations, preferring the heavily armored security of a bridge located to the heart of the cruiser rather than the observation panes the main bridge featured. It was not a problem though, as the secondary bridge was absolutely able to recreate the observation panes on holoscreens designed for tactical analysis. And at that moment, they were using these devices a lot.

All the officers assembled were charged of destroying the Sith legions on the planet. Since their landing zone had been ravaged by the siwft orbital strike, no one was safe on the ground of the sacred planet. With righteous fury, Gallius watched as platoons after platoons of Sith cultists and Legionnaires disappeared into plumes of fire and smoke. The green, hellish bolts descending from the sky impersonated the Imperator's fury, rallied the imperial forces and levelled the Sith's morale. At the north of Ravelin, a column of Sith tanks exploded and were consumed by the orbital strikes. In front of the Palace, buildings faded as the ruthless strikes slaughtered the Sith troops moving forward. As promised, the doom had come, and it took the form of anonymous strikes wiping out dozens and hundreds of soldiers at a time.

Gallius did not care about the destruction he caused if it stalled the advance of the Sith. He was more than willing to raze some districts of Ravelin if it could bring victory to his Empire, and any friendly-fire incident made would be something to add to the deaths the Sith caused, not the ones he had caused. The crew of the Pride of the Emperor was more than willing to subscribe to that concept of war, and each strike the turbolasers made was driven by a vengeful spirit none could imagine. The bloodlust came back into the eyes of Gallius. It was lingering in every person aboard the Pride, now. The vision the Captain had was becoming more precise by the second : the Cuirassier was not diving into the atmosphere, but its deadly strikes were. And thus they brought the fury of the Imperator to their ennemies.

"Intensify all ground-directed fire. Raze their positions. Obliterate their troops. Level their fortification. Annihilate those Sith who dare defile our land !" Gallius shouted, his rage and bloodlust making him almost lose his senses. He tried to push back that rage, contain the anger, but he also knew the time for calm and cold calculations was over. He had to express himself, liberate the boiling blood of his and make the satisfaction of eliminating his ennemies grow.

Again and again, the turbolasers relentlessely bombed the Sith forces. The sun was masked now, due to the end of its day-cycle, but the skies of Bastion were taking a flashy and hellish green colour. The rain of bolts the Pride fired created a new dawn in Ravelin, as the dusk fights were lighted by the unstopping fires of the Cuirassier. Then and again, Sith troops disappeared in the maelstrom of strikes Ravelin suffered fom its own defenders. Their advance was now defenitely stalled, as they were forced to reach some hypothetic cover, trying to escape the fury of a maddened officer.

There was no escape. There had never been. Gallius Orcana intended to kill all and every Sith on Bastion, and he had the means to do it. He watched with satisfaction as Sith regiments after Sith regiments disappeared from the tactical map. Only the Palace was to remain intact and be spared of the apocalypse. In some places, the bombardment revealed the underneath tunnels of the city, blowing up massive portions of the floor, digging deep holes that opened portions of the tunnels to the green sky.

THE FINAL STRIKE
​

All good things have to cease, eventually. For Gallius, that moment came too soon, but as Var Koon assembled the fleet, he answered and regrouped with the bulk of the New Imperial Navy. He was leaving behind him a demoralized Sith army in full retreat, a torn city, and stunned defenders who had seen hell come so close they thought they would pass the ordeal of fire. But this was not to arrive. The Palace had not been hit, and its defenders were relatively safe.

The Pride of the Emperor flew away of the obit, and joined the second line of the imperial fleet. Today was the day of victory and destruction of the Sith Empire. Pride filled the heart of Gallius when he saw the mighty fleet assembled there to strike at the heart of their foes. Such vision was not to be forgotten, and he would cherish it for a long time. The day when they crushed the desposts' fleets, and they launched the final strike to free the galaxy from the nefarious influence of the Sith themselves.

The vision was now clear to Gallius : he was to bring the judgment of the Imperator to his foes, and his righteous fury would darken the skies, leaving a trail of destruction in the wake of the punishment hammer the Pride was intended to be. All now made sense, and the tragic vision of a hopeless defeat was replaced with something brighter and more glorious. The doom would come to the ennemies of the Empire, now he knew it. He knew how to enact the vengeance and wreak havoc among his opponents.

The final strike was being made, and as the first time, Gallius was there to make sure the blow was decisive. The advancing fleet of the New Order would not let any hope to the Sith. With the arrival of the Lord Executor's fleet, and the support of the Galactic Alliance, the Sith could not stand in the way of victory.

Their doom had come, as promised.

"For the Empire ! Gallius roared, answered by his crew, their war cries echoing in all the ship.

Their doom was there, as promised.