Invasion Schism's Dawn // NIO invasion of TSE controlled Mygeeto and Muunilinst

Darth Carnifex · May 18, 2020

Location: Muunilinst
Objective: Defend The Empire | Kill All Enemies
Equipment:

Tags:

Wyatt Morga
Music: Duel of the Fates

He watched, with some measure of satisfaction, as the Jedi was thrown back through the window and out into the street. Walking calmly towards the broken window, the Emperor reached out with his mind to unanchor the stone and mortar which held the wall together and let it topple down into the street along with the broken glass. Each step he made was like a thunderbolt, shaking the dust loose from the broken brick as he appeared out of the gloom to lord over their surroundings. The reflective glass of his helmet caught the Muunilinst sunlight, glinting nefariously while the rest of his body was caught between light and shadow. And while standing on the precipice of the broken wall, the Emperor looked down upon the Jedi as she tossed aside her crude firearm and summoned her lightsaber into her hand.

Snap-hiss.

Blue light caught the angles and corners of the street around her, contrasting with the harsh red that illuminated the Emperor and the broken house. Beneath his helmet, the Dark Lord of the Sith was grinning from ear-to-ear. He took several more steps and gracefully dropped down from the building into the street. Glass and broken chunks of brick were pulverized beneath his step as he sauntered, quite swaggardly, towards her. He stopped a fair pace away, raising up his right hand; the hand that held his lightsaber, and angling it sideways to that she could see it fully.

It resembled a double-bladed lightsaber except folded in half at the midsection, moored together by a strong magnetic clamp that could anchor the two hilts together when extended. And that was what the Emperor did with a flick of his wrist, the other hilt swung out and snapped into place to complete the elongation. Then a second red blade emerged from the now extended end of the lightsaber, completing the transformation.

"Then you will die, Jedi, as will those you have sworn to protect." Replied the Emperor, his dark voice full of hate and venom, as he twirled his weapon around in his hands as the shards of glass were projected towards him by the Force. As the ancient Darth Bane used his speed to deflect every drop of rain in a thundershower, so too did Darth Carnifex deflect the shards of glass before they could touch his armor. Following through with his motion, he brought one of his twin blades down to connect with the Jedi's sai tok slash at his midsection and shunted it down and to the side. Continuing in his momentum, he brought his other blade around to slash at the Jedi from the shoulder down diagonally across her body in a similar sai tok manner.

His right arm briefly disengaged from his weapon to lash out with a devastating backhand if the Jedi Master was still near, to possibly send her flying back and open the distance between them.

Darth Kentarch · May 18, 2020

Imperial Warlord Zovesa |

Ignatius |

Avernus
| ENEMIES | Sith Imperials

"INCOMING!"

Darth Kentarch could not quite tell who was shouting, even before he could even focus his senses a sudden explosion sent dozens of Imperial soldiers flying into the air. Out of habit, the Sith Lord raise his hand and summoned the force to shield himself from shrapnel and debris. Artillery fire from the Sith Imperials had been holding the men he was with form crossing the bridges for some time. The NIO had dug in literally in the passing months, nine feet deep trenches with dugouts and bunkers, arranged in various zigzag positions so they were harder to take by assailing forces. The Sith Imperials or rather the 'Loyalists' had entranced themselves on the other side of the bridge network, resulting in a months-long siege that had ended in a stalemate.

The ground shook, the deafening roar of anti-air batteries and artillery firing was non-stop, the entrenched positions were a mess of snow and mud. Dead bodies and broken and abandoned equipment were strewn about the trenches. Heavy repeater and blaster fire from the loyalist forces whizzed overhead, giving the already thin cold air the smell of burnt ozone. A young officer suddenly emerged to greet Kentarch, shouting at the top of his lungs so the Sith could hear him.

"MY LORD! MY LORD!" A young Imperial officer struggled not to sink too deep into the mud and snow as he rushed towards Kentarch. "You are needed, command is organizing a big push."

The cloaked figured turned and gazed at the young Imperial officer. "Lead the way lieutenant." He said after taking a moment to study the officer's feelings.

Kentrach was led to a bunker with a holo-projection table. To his annoyance, it took several minutes to get the holo-projector working as several lines had gone done in another artillery strike. Finally, a flickering image of the battlefield appeared on the holo-projector with the focus on the bridge network that connected the Mesas. As the cloaked figured observed the various reports of friendly and opposing forces an Imperial Colonel step forward with an update from command.

"There is little time. So let us begin." The colonel seemed battle-weary, he was clearly trying to hide his weakness as he spoke, But Kentarch could see the fatigue in his eyes. "A large blizzard is moving into the region. It will be a complete whiteout with visibility being extremely low. Warmaster

Darth Bellum is coordinating an offensive to take the main bridge and launch a final assault on the Sith Loyalists' positions that should bring about an end to this battle. the High Knight Marshal of the Force Corps has already begun her offensive."

"I fail to see how I can help with a 'Big Push' colonel." Kentarch was blunt and to the point. "I rarely lead all-out shock offensives. Typically my expertise is in infiltration and strategic objective taking with small fast-moving teams."

"Loses have been heavy and too many officers have died. We need everyone we have on the line for this assault." The colonel replied quickly. "We need your strength to lead these men."

Kentarch held up a hand for the colonel to stop. "I work alone. And I will cross the bridges and infiltrate enemy positions once I have sufficient intelligence for a targeted operation."

"Is it true you lost your spine after that Mandalorian almost killed you in that pitched-." The young lieutenant spoke suddenly and was just a quickly cut off by Kentarch punching him the face. Although the colonel remained cool, the officers gasped and place their hands on their weapons.

"You dare!" Kentarch grabbed the young officer by the collar and got ready to slug the man again in the face.

"Enough Lord Kentarch!" The colonel said. "The Lieutenant has a point."

Kentarch gaze shifted to the colonel almost in disbelief at his words, the man was afraid, he could sense it. But Kentarch could also sense the other officer's feelings. Not just fear, doubt. They doubt him. His expression molded into disappointment. The Sith released his grip from the young officer. "Very well Colonel. I'll join your big push. Meet me at the bridge once the Warmaster has ordered us to attack."

Kentarch did not wait for a reply, he simply stormed out of the dugout after he spoke and into the trenches, pushing his way through the crowd of Imperial soldiers to the bridge.

Allyson Locke · May 18, 2020

Location: Muunilinst
Objective: Distract the Emperor till uplink comms of the city goes live
Equipment: in signature
Tags:

Wyatt Morga

Darth Carnifex

Tell him I wasn't afraid, for he is my light in the eternal darkness.

The vision of the Dark Lord emerging from the shack of a house was a hard sight to remove from your mind. The man struck fear into the hearts of anyone that spoke his name. He ruled his empire with an iron fist that demanded loyalty and respect. The Corellian Spy had lost many good men and women to the fight against the evil that graced her presence. Seeing his form and how he towered over her, Allyson could feel the fear of doubt lurching its way to her chest. Was she going to die today? Was she going to lose and find her life withering away in the darkest pits of his dungeons? She couldn't think of that, and she had to hold onto the hope of the others. They fought and were relying on her to ensure that the city would open up to them, open to salvation.

The hiss of his saber caught her attention; the weapon was far different than she had ever seen in her lifetime. No Jedi wore this weapon, and Allyson examined it the best she could as she drew close for her attack. The weapon elongated, and the Corellian was in awe at the mechanics of how the weapon worked. The weapon deflected her strike and quickly followed up, attacking her in the same sweeping manner as she had done. As if instinctively, she used the momentum of her Force body and the repulsors on her suit the speed up her recovery to block the blow. In the back of her mind, she could hear

Jyoti Nooran 's voice instructing her on the use of a lightsaber. Memories of her friend brought a new wash of comfort for the Corellian. She had the best people around her, teaching her and uplifting her beyond her tragedies. The blades connected as sparks flew between them. Allyson moved to drive a hard kick into the Sith's chest, but his hand was faster than her. Keeping her foot planted, she rolled her shoulder into the slap the best she could and let the armor take the brunt of the blow.

She was a lot smaller than he was, so the blow put her off balance. Allyson allowed herself to fly back but used the repulsors and the Force to stabilize her fall. Instead of flying back uncontrolled, she sprang backward and landed on her feet low to the ground to absorb any shock of her body landing. The had several feet between them now and Allyson smirked, this was what she wanted all along. Keeping the blade ready, her mind quickly focused on the helmet the man wore with his armor. The Mechu Deru Savant took the chance to promptly use the Force to overwhelm the helmet's mechanical circuitries to electrocute him. "Cut the head off of the snake and the rest shall crumble down. I will not die here by your hands Carnifex!" Reaching out, she felt the Force begin to manipulate the electromagnetic field the helmet would emit, and she knew she had only once chance at this.

"I will destroy everything you've ever created; I will strip you of your history and everything your precious ego holds dear!"

FN-999 · May 18, 2020

OBJECTIVE: TAKE THE CITY
ALLIES:

Belisarius |

Irveric Tavlar (CO)|

Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt | Sturit Goan | Other NIO Forces
OPPOSITION: TSE Forces
ENGAGING:

Mazrim Caide/Taim
EQUIPMENT: IN SIGNATURE, AS WELL AS SBR-60x BATTLE RIFLE
PLATOON COMPOSITION: 37/50

A Sith trooper rose up from behind a ruined pillar about five meters to the right of FN-999.

Before he could fire a single shot from the rifle he had pointed at the stormtrooper's chest, FN-999 fired two plasma bolts towards the trooper's helmet. The first bolt cracked the helmet and staggered the trooper. The second bolt broke the helmet and turned his brain's consistency into that of water. FN-999 had been fighting for over two decades, and held great pride in the fact that he was among the first generation of both First Order and New Imperial Stormtroopers. Even a battlefield as vast, dynamic, and brutal as Munnilist would be unable to distract FN-999 from his objective. Carrying the memory of Dosunn with him, a battlefield even worse than the one on this planet, FN-999's ferocity and desire for vengeance led him to take the lives of many of his foes.

<<"426th, this is Feral Actual. We're pushing in. Once we break the main emplacement, your men need to clean up any stragglers. Keep them off our flanks and off our tanks. Over.">>

[Feral Actual, this is Lieutenant Nines of the 426th.] stated FN-999, leaping behind a large heap of rubble to open his comms safely. [We're about fifty meters ahead of your position and engaging hostile infantry divisions, your 9 to 3 o'clock should be completely clear.]

As FN-999 closed his comms array, he suddenly noticed something through the smoke and rubble in front of him. The advancing Imperial forces had come to within meters of where a Sith force once stood. Guessing from the quantity of brutally gored corpses littering the road ahead, a battalion sized force had likely stood there mere minutes prior. It was likely wiped out by an airstrike or Imperial armored vehicles, though it was hard to tell which was the culprit. Already, Imperial troops were flooding into the gap left in the Sith defense of the city. However, FN-999 noticed something that momentarily distracted him. There seemed to still be a Sith trooper alive.

Yet, this trooper did not seem to resemble the typical armored Sith grunt. He wore light armor resembling that of backwater mercenaries FN-999 had so frequently fought and subdued. Yet, this being, humanoid in appearance, was surrounded by the corpses of FN-999's comrades. No one from his platoon, but rather, a group of commandos he had earlier seen attempt a flanking maneuver. FN-999 analyzed their bodies for just under two seconds before sprinting behind the beaten down wall of a wrecked storage facility. From what he saw, it seemed as if the man had eliminated them himself. If that was true, then he was a serious threat.

[Imperator, this is Lieutenant Nines of the 426th.] stated FN-999, opening his handheld comms array once again. [The 426th will continue to fight with you, but there's a high priority target I'd like to eliminate myself before he can cause any more trouble. If you need the 426th, refer to my 2IC. Nines, Out.]

FN-999 closed his comms array and tucked it securely away on the belt on his waist. Then, he entered a hard sprint in the man's direction, struggling to line him up in his sights through the surreal, constantly-changing environment of the battlefield. A cry suddenly went out from under him. He had stepped on the arm of a gravely wounded friendly commando, causing him to drop his blaster, which he had pointed at the mystery man. Shortly afterwards, he fell limp, all his energy used up by his cry of pain.

"My apologies." stated FN-999 posthumously to the corpse underneath him. "This man won't live to harm another comrade."

Hoping to strike before the man reacted to his arrival, FN-999 stepped off the commando, raised his rifle, and fired two bolts at the center of the unknown soldier's chest.

Dorian Sicarrio · May 18, 2020

Tag:

Ryv |

Lucien Dooku |

Trajan Fett |

Lord Venari |

Leon Amun |

Vallaro Kindall

Dorian hated this outfit.

Seriously, what moron thought wearing brilliant white on the battlefield was a good idea? To be fair it was more of a style thing than anything. He was a gladiator and a showman, not really a soldier. Yes, he'd aced the basic training -- he wasn't inept -- but the mindset of someone who fought for a crowd was a little different from someone there to kill for their country. The stormtroopers wore white armor as well, so perhaps there was some logical reasoning behind NIO's Force Corps uniform's particular composition. Dorian had always just assumed blending into one's environment was their best bet at survival... though the Force tended to offer other ways.

The enemy wouldn't see him coming in any case. He personally believed that he could move as quickly as these speeder bikes, but it was much less strenuous to ride one into battle than it was to keep up full bursts of Force speed. It wasn't an idea he'd thought about much; quite literally jousting through a battlefield seemed rather odd from a military standpoint, though again he didn't quite see things from a military standpoint.

When this Karis kid's words reached him he was reminded of another thing he didn't much like. Dorian wasn't very good at taking orders in the first place, but the way Ryv phrased his "I'm out first" was practically begging to be challenged. How easy it'd be, to go just a little faster... how desperately Dorian wanted to show off, show him what real speed was. But Zovesa was already breathing down his neck -- not in the good way -- and all this discipline stuff was beginning to get to him. They were supposed to show and spread order, and Dorian had decided that for now that was the cause he was committed to. It wouldn't do to abandon it now. So, he didn't comment, just grunting slightly as he settled his weapon into place across the handlebars of his speeder.

And soon enough, they were off to the races... into high atmosphere. Heights had never bothered him so much, and neither had violence. Gratuitous blood and explosions were his bread and butter but today there was just too much. The ripping winds threatened to pull him off his speeder, but with an effort the speeder hummed to life and shot off behind the Jedi who led the assault.

He felt like...

He'd been falling...

Forever...

But eventually he began to pull back on the controls; the Force guiding his movements. His eyes were closed, if he opened them he feared his eyelids would be ripped out, even with the helmet he'd put on for today. It hid his beautiful hair, but if he wasn't wearing the helmet he'd probably lose that too.

Dorian landed next to Karis, the bike giving a slight jolt as it finally leveled out. In front of them, the entrenched Sith soldiers, lying in wait -- or perhaps in awe of the fact that a couple of fools were falling out of the sky on speeder bikes. Didn't matter. The warrior leveled his crimson spear at those who stood before him, and in an instant the speeder shot off. The first strike he barely saw, but in moments the trench line was behind him and the lancers were into the city, preparing to wreak havoc.

And Dorian, of course, was ready to find the opponents who'd allow him to get off this blasted speeder bike.

Maynard Treicolt · May 18, 2020

// OUTRIDER // Raider Sqd
// OBJECTIVE // Harnaidan
// THEME // Jimmy
// TGA //

Loske Treicolt
// TSE //

Ellie Mors

Sometime ago...

Sith-Imperial blockade

Pabol Hutta

Darth Alekto said:
"Revel in your victory, master Jedi. Remember this taste, and learn to savor it." She whispered, her voice hoarse; cracked. "This is the power that lies where you cannot see, in the pit of the dark void you and your loved ones fear."

Those haunting words, emitting ethereally from Braith as his eyes widened in shock, the breath mask secured to his face clouding as he dealt heavy breathes from the intense encounter. The cobalt blue saber remained in her stomach, singeing and melting away at her mortal shell. The sentiment buried within his subconscious immediately as he wrenched the saber away from her, watching only in time to see her Firrero form tremble into nothingness.

With the Vong flotilla around them all but succumbing to the combined coalition of roguish spacers and organized navies drove them to flee. Victory, perhaps but even so - there were no reassurances over her last words.

Darth Alekto said:
"In death, I am born -"

He had no reason to believe the otherworldly being wouldn't make good on this. Even after Loske and Maynard were able to make a nailbiting, narrow escape alongside Saber Squadron from the chaos at Pabol Hutta. Visions still reaped their toll on Maynard's mind in sporadic patterns. The very sight of Braith confined to the cognition throne of the Vong ship, barking orders in a guttural, alien tongue as her face was clasped beneath the biomechanical apparatus that allowed her full control of the Vong vessel.

Even after the nightmarish encounter at Honoghr, that ominous reassurance imprinted itself into the back of his mind. These memories shrouded in darkness were always the ones that seemed to remain with permanency in the Concordian's mind. And uniformly, they seemed to make due again in his life.

Zero Hour

Harnaidan

The plummet of the HAAT from the Dissident Aggressor's hangar bay sent a jostle through the gunship as surged through the planet's atmosphere. Even if the New Imperial RDAG's might have been more capable of weathering the flak storm which enveloped the descending aerial wave in turbulent skies. As the gunship maneuvered through the atmosphere with a hum from its repulsorlifts Maynard stood with a hand clasped around one of the handles in secured suspension from the ceiling of the troop bay.

The sounds of slides racking against metal and clips being slotted into Viperwaspcarbines served to drown out the ambient noise of explosive blasts and flak enveloping the ship- a faint reprieve in the calm before the storm.

With his gaze concealed beneath the blackened T-visor of his helmet modified to sew a schism in aesthetic between the Galactic Alliance and the Journeyman Protectors from Concord Dawn. The very same force from which his cousin,

Konrad Bolter was ripped from to serve the Sith-Imperial legions when they'd conquered the world. An ode to both to his roots, as troubled as they might've been and the path ahead - one that was insatiably promising.

He looked up from the paneling of the troop bay floor to the woman across from him seperate from the squad of Alliance Rangers who were stringing together the last pieces of their panoply of war for the battle ahead. Loske. When

Ryv assembled the Jedi mean't to accompany the Galactic Alliance strike force here, this might've been the most cohesive pairing among them. There wasn't a mission or task too dire for them not to prevail, it was a bond tempered in fire and one that resulted in something far more meaningful.

He loved her. They'd made clear of that to one another several times. It was a deeply buried feeling that was shed into the light of day only after recent struggles. Even still, it was a tension undone after a year or so masquerading. Liberating but even still- being a Jedi meant the weight of obligation. To be here, in the thick of it. For better or worse, with her at his side. Even if there was no one else he'd rather be with in this, at all. If it came down to her in danger...he couldn't trust in his ability to operate on any level of rationality. Anger and impulsiveness selflessness typically ruled his actions beyond that.

With a bright red light illuminating the troop cabin Maynard stepped forward from his position against the side door, reaching for the pistolgrip of his Viperwasp as he steps into the middle of the area. Peering around the cabin there was two ranks of five Rangers along the side bay doors and the two Jedi making a section of twelve.

<"Gear! Check!"> Maynard barked out in command, his voice only barely distorted by helmet around his face. Immediately after he said he could feel the repulsorlifts revving up to their maximum speed with a slow rhythmic beating of the engine. It was almost time. Soon enough the bow facing smaller section of the side doors slid open to make way for the clear symphony of death they played out below them. New Imperial firepower, Sith-Imperial fortifications all exchanging reposte in a frantic scatter of fire between them.

With each Ranger patting the next on the shoulder to indicate a complete kit the tension of the inevitable descent seemed to bare down on the room. They were closer. Stepping himself back into line he offered Loske one more glance before he focused forward, his gaze shifting to the glaring red light which illuminated the crew cabin.

<"Go! Go! Go!"> Ordered the Concordian at the instant the glaring light flashed green the Rangers left descended in a rapid succession, one after the other before eventually the two jedi at the end of the ranks were left to do the same. As soon as they left the gunship Maynard could only feel his ears ring with the sensory envelopment of the war beneath. With each of the Rangers armed with jump-packs each they aligned with small bursts to position themselves over the drop point.

A large building, crafted with the same methods and architecture as all the other Muun structures around it. Far behind the lines of battle, prior scouting revealed it to be a command post and thus - Raider Squadron's mission was to knock it out of commission.

The landing wasn't soft to any of them, sounding out grunts of pain upon impact as they each tried their best to roll unto the slate surface beneath. All twelve managed the jump upright however. With a drip of bacta to ease the stinging pain in their limbs they set themselves into position on the roof top. As not to trip the aural scanners within the command center each of them resorted to hand signals until things went loud. Crouching down near the edge of the rooftop Maynard signalled the attention of the demolitions operative, holding out the palm of his right hand before placing his left fist in the extended hand with a low smack. It was time to breach.

Holding up all ten fingers to indicate the timer Maynard then reached to take hold of his Sabrewasp before he heard slide racked from the Doombringer wielded by the Ranger next to him. Locking eyes with the man for a moment past the cloth face covering and goggles beneath the characteristic pathfiner helmet he offered a nod once more. They were here, it was time.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

An unnerving silence settled over the rooftop before immediately after the thermal imploder set in place sent a seismic crack of an explosion through the rooftop, sending chunks of metal and marble plummeting down. Next two of the Rangers twisted their flash-bangs, priming them before they lobbed them down into the hole they'd created. Hearing the second round of 'pops' from the flash-bangs the Rangers set off from their uniformly crouched positions surrounding the breach before falling down with loud, persistent volleys of blaster fire as they thrust down to the ground assisted by their jumppacks.

Quick to abandon the conventional weapon, Maynard pulled the grey and tan patterned cloak to the side before pulling his lightsaber from his belt with a reach from the force, sending the blade alight with a characteristic 'pssht' of the cobalt ignition. They were in the fray now.

Melia Siari · May 18, 2020

FEELING GOOD

Location: High Port, Muunilist -> Enroute to HIMS Imperial Fist
Objective: Defend Muunilist
Allies: The Sith Empire
Enemies: New Imperial Order | Dracken Pryce

For the first time in over a decade of space flight and naval warfare, Melia did not find herself seated in the bridge of one of the ships that were situated to defend the planet of Muunilist from its attackers. For too long, before the assault on Mygeeto even, the Empire had suspected a strike at what many viewed as the coin purse of the Empire - a concept that was understandably widespread, though inaccurate as it might be. Despite the evacuation that the Empire had attempted some time before the New Imperial Order's arrival, one which saw a removal of many Muun and other civilians from the largest urban centers that were the greatest potential targets for assault, and in spite of the greater scrutiny that the New Imperial had been placed under when it began its siege of Mygeeto, there was no absolute certainty of when they may arrive - in fact it had remained uncertain if they would even make it beyond Mygeeto, considering the state of the siege there.

The dark room suited her, though the silence was broken as holographic displays along the interior of the room along the walls lit up with their translucent blue light and officers that had been assigned to the planet's defense hurriedly raised the alarm. A small red light illuminated the base of one of the holographic projectors in a steady flashing pattern, signalling that the camera which would capture her likeness and display it across the bridges of each ship of the Sith-Imperial Armada was preparing to come online. Standing to attention, already in the uniform afforded to her as one of the few Tierarchs of the Armada, the flashing light shifted to a steady glow to signify that she was now being projected to the rest of the Armada present over Muunilist. She spoke no words as she shifted her posture to salute the rest of the naval officers that would be under her command for the remainder of the battle for the banking world, observing the holograms of her eighteen direct subordinates return her silent salute.

"As we have suspected for quite some time, the Muun home world has been made a target of by the New Imperial Order - unfortunately our fighting with them over the world of Mygeeto has put a stranglehold on our intelligence, keeping their sudden arrival from reaching our ears until they were already at our doorstep." Melia began, addressing the situation with a remarkably levelheaded approach, refraining from directly admitting that she was caught unawares personally but also implying as much by the fact that she was currently situated in the middle of an improvised command center in the skyhook that sat over Harnaidan - High Point. "Regardless of the means of their arrival, the Sith-Imperial Armada has always been prepared for attacks in our own territory, and today will be no different." The Zeltron continued, the holographic images of her subordinates fading while she raised her right hand in front of her chest, her eyes shifting to fixate on a device attached to her wrist as if she was looking at a watch. The red light on the larger camera that had sat near the holoprojectors that displayed the rest of her underlings flickered off as the camera on the wrist-mounted holorecorder activated, Melia already pivoting for the door.

"While I make for the Imperial Fist in my shuttle, the Imperial Will is to engage in interdiction - there are to be no ships leaving unless it is under my orders, enemy or not, and this will prevent further reinforcements from arriving out of the woodwork if that was a card on their table." She explained as she stepped out from the small room, which had been situated near a docking arm for emergencies such as this. Several Sith-Imperial Droid fighters were already waiting in the vacuum of space to escort her to her command ship - the Autarch-class Siege Breaker that had been dubbed the Imperial Fist.

Cara Dorniarn · May 18, 2020

engraved on metal

Objective: Collect The Eight; Intercept Tavlar
Allies:

Mazrim Caide/Taim |

Darth Carnifex
Opposition:

Irveric Tavlar | FN-999

Two weeks ago...

Cara observed the voidless expanse from the window of her office. The Ineditorum floated in its orbitless space and hummed with the work of its inhabitabts, blissfully unaware of the silent fury boiling in its progenitor.

Crack. The datapad's screen gave under pressure of her thumb. She mused the note near the document's heading, "I imagine this will be interesting to you. Also, don't forget the board meeting next week. See you then, Telis."

Interesting was a weak adjective. Infuriating. Shocking. Revolting... far better words to describe the information in her hands.

Crack. Cara had viewed the New Imperial Order under a favorable light, investing secret goodwill and medical supplies in hopes they would be a tool of progress within the galaxy. So close was she to declaring them worthy of her public support. The document Telis sent burned such notions away and she felt shame for her hidden actions.

Snap! She tossed the broken datapad to the floor, crushing its pieces with a heavy heel. What General Tavlar hadn't told her during his visit to The Ineditorum was the idea of a free Moridinae--Mandalore to some--and that the ruined orb was to be released to its bastard children. She couldn't allow such a gross mistake be made, not when the Empire had made so much progress with reforming the savages.

Hidden beneath the pragmatic's anger was a selfish voice, her own demands for justice and desire for revenge. No mercy would be found for the ones who showed none decades ago.

Metallic fingers clinked together as her hands were steepled beneath her chin. Interrupting her congress of indignation and bitterness was a phantom voice. So vivd was the memory that she felt a warm hand brush her cheek.

"Your temper scares me sometimes." The voice was soft, the eyes worried.

Cara's head dropped into cold palms, her voice echoing the empty room.

"I'm sorry."

Harnaidan was in chaos. The capital had been besieged by NIO forces and Cara arrived later than most to the fray.

"If you can't fix a basic fuse then why are you even here?" Her voice was cold as she reprimanded the engineer. How the academy vomited out such a failure she didn't know. She walked away before he could finish his excuse, "Aidee, repair the fuse on junction A-3 then follow my position once you've finished."

The ID10 droid warbled in confirmation to the command, crawling from the harness on her shoulder to tend to the vehicle. Cara made her way through the debris and bodies, throwing out basic orders to units separated from their command and issuing repairs to armors, weapons, and vehicles. Her journey through the urban waste wasn't unplanned, the path leading her through alleyways and destroyed buildings with the intent to issue a personal grievance.

She had words for General Tavlar.

As Cara made the trek additional pairs of footsteps fell in line behind her. Clad in the standard armor of legionnaires, each trooper had been performing duties assigned to the units they slipped into, playing their roles as they awaited their commander to call. She never claimed ownership of them, nor did she force them to become what they were. Their loyalty was pledged to the one who did not leave them behind, their choice made to better aid the one who shielded them. The Eight congregated in short time, tucked into formation as they had done so many times before.

They slipped through the foyer of a toppled skyscraper, coming out side and rounding another collapsed structure. A cluster of fighting ahead. The HUD of her helmet was filled with the enhanced view from the legionnaire beside her, his augmented eyes feeding the information directly.

The lone soldier was a whirlwind. Fine footwork, solid strikes, and an eye for calculating his opponent's move. Efficiency in motion. Cara approved.

To the side a fallen opponent raised his blaster in a dishonorable move. As the two of the Eight raised their rifles Cara balled her fist. She didn't need to reread the mechanisms of a standard issue blaster. The middle chamber of the weapon grew red before exploding, the tibanna gas breaching its safety.

The live feed of the lone legionnaire switched to that of an oncoming target, another NIO trooper who was quickly making way to their position. Cara slapped the underside of her forearm, the bang alerting the Eight there were more combatants. They immediately went into the defensive, using the wrecked environment as cover. Cara broke into a sprint, marking off the steps as she measured their distance. At two meters she slid to a stop.

Two bolts, aimed for the legionnaire's chest, slammed then curved around a ghostly dome. Blue hexagons lit long enough to show their edge then faded again, seeming to have originated from Cara. She glanced to the first target.

His forearm gone with the blast the NIO trooper would have bled out quickly, but as Cara stood with the lone legionnaire she motioned toward one of the Eight. They nodded, breaking cover to begin first aid on the enemy soldier.

Cara reached into a pouch from her hip and offered the standing soldier a bacta shot, "You have two choices: stay here to neutralize the target or leave with my unit. You have sixty seconds before we move again."

Wyatt Morga · May 18, 2020

Location: Muunilinst
Objective: Cut the head off the snake.
Tags:

Allyson Locke │

Darth Carnifex

Wyatt stood solemn and quiet on the dropship, doors wide as the battle that took place speed by - another world, a thousand deaths, but Wyatt could not tax himself with their passing as he did on Kintan. Instead, he appeared as marble - immaculate and unmoving, and almost unnerving calmness to him as he stared at the floor. Only a few moments before had Allyson chimed in through the radio -

“Engaging the Emperor.”

For a brief moment when he had heard it, he wanted to tell her to hold off and wait for him, to belay her revenge for the calmness that came with the second voice of reason; but he knew Master Locke better than she might’ve guessed he did. He knew she was human, she wouldn’t abide by his request even if he had commanded her too - and he couldn’t blame her. He’d remembered the conversations they’d had about what once came from the Sith, and while he could do little to comfort her, and was spared the details - he knew it was harsh enough that he had no place to take that from her.

Not now, not over a comms relay - riddled with static, a hundred miles away.

“General Morga - T-Minus 30 seconds until we’re insight.”, a man chimed in quickly as he rested a hand on Wyatt’s shoulder. For a split second, it took more than Wyatt cared to admit not to lash out at the man - his entire body prepping itself for war, every slight against it a possible attack.

The Grandmaster offered a muddled, only vaguely reassuring smile to the man before stifling out a response of his own;

“Drop some distance away, I don’t want your ship in the crossfire.”, he offered back.

The man simply nodded, a quiet recognition to listen to the Master’s request behind a motionless facemask. Departing back to the cockpit, Wyatt could only assume his request was granted, and he stilled himself for what was to come. Bringing himself closer to the door, the wind began to blowback his robes with a foreboding tension - as though forcing him back from the precipice, the quiet whispers of the force unsure of his ability to do what had to be done.

Wyatt would not confuse it for his own, however. There were simply some things one couldn’t leave up to meditation - and if killing the Emperor was to be his fate, then he would die doing it.

As the transport sped across the city, Wyatt sensed the force signature of both combatants, already mid duel. Homing in on it, Wyatt offered little more than a quiet exhale - and all the sound of his flight became nothing in the moment he let his feet slip from the transport’s cargo area. All it would take was a split second, and in a split, Wyatt would jettison himself through space and time to where they were - with all the momentum of his fall orientated forward in the direction of his would-be opponent.

Before perhaps, any would even realize that the Grandmaster had come to take his toll, his lightsaber’s blue shine would rip through the air as he sped past the Sith Lord’s rear - trailing his blade across Carnifex’s back with an almost unprecedented speed. Dust picked up as his feet forced him to a standstill, sliding meters from either of them as he finally stopped;

Only to look back with a cold, icy gaze that marked his intent - though he lacked the scowl one would expect, despite all the killer instinct in his eyes at that moment. The Grandmaster, notable for his focus on redemption had forgoed such an approach from the get-go, and the others would know this all too well from his expression. His words matched, though monotonous in nature;

“The cycle ends here.”

Taeli Raaf · May 18, 2020

Objective 1: Hold the Bridge until the storm breaks and Reinforcements arrive
Location: 173rd Legion "Black Talons" Forward Command Post, Sith-Imperial side of Southern Mesas Bridge One, Mygeeto
Allies:

Darth Ophidia
Enemies:

Imperial Warlord Zovesa

Kyrel Ren

Equipment: Weapons in Signature, stylized Medhir Armor
Forces: 173rd "Black Talons" Legion, equipped with AI-331m's, Shields, and Alpine Armor, commanded by Strategos Ranulph Tarkin

"The storm is picking up, I don't know how much longer the signal will hold love," she said quietly to the flickering image of her wife Fiolette Raaf. In the crook of her arm was the battered helmet Taeli had worn since arriving on Mygeeto over a month ago now. The war between the Sith Empire, the Loyalists as it were, and the New Imperial Order, those that had balked at serving under

Darth Carnifex any longer, had broken out at last beyond the shadowy skirmishes and purges. The Sith Empire had anticipated the assault, fortifying the line with Muunlinist and Mygeeto being anchor points for the defenses into Oversector I, but the assault had been brutal all the same.

The first days... it had reminded her of the battles fought at the height of the war between the Galactic Republic and One Sith. Thousands had died, even more wounded. Ships had crashed into each other, their broken and charred remains falling onto the battlefields that had become the Siege of Mygeeto. The 173rd under Strategos Tarkin and Dark Councilor Arcanix had been on world since the beginning... the Legion had begun at full strength this time, 64,000 soldiers brought from the Sith Empire, the First Order, and those that had defected from the first Galactic Alliance after Operation: Eclipse. Now... now they numbered somewhere between 16,000 and 20,000 troops. It had been... a grueling, protracted fight, but they had held this bridge for weeks now.

"Reinforcements are scheduled to arrive once the storm abates, enough that... we should be able to force them off-world," she continued. "When I get home, we should have that long overdue talk, maybe go somewhere warmer than this icy hell. Not Genesia though."

The armored figure of Ranulph entered the room, his profile just barely visible to Fiolette.

"They're coming, my Lady," the veteran and loyal soldier stated matter-of-factly. "Storm has picked up and the lads are getting movement on their side of the bridge. Won't be long until..."

The command post rumbled from what was presumably artillery and tank fire from the enemy and the answering cavalcade from the Sith AT-HA's and Mjolnir Artillery. The image if Fiolette distorted then solidifed again.

"I love you," Taeli said. "Tell the girls I love them too and I'll see them in a few days." The message ended and Taeli, with a sigh, placed her helmet back in place. The vulnerable Taeli was replaced by the imposing aura and image of Dark Councilor Arcanix once again. With a nod to Tarkin, they exited the command post to the white-out conditions of the frost storm raging. The Sith Legionaries were dug into their own trench system, green energy bolts sizzling from gun emplacements and blasters along the length of the bridge towards the presumed advancing forces. Sith Lords and Knights, in their dark robes and armor, provided needed guidance of where shots should be placed down range or Force support themselves.

"Advance forces have already engaged, but with this lack of visibility..." Tarkin didn't need to finish the sentence. Arcanix knew all too well. The No Man's Land that was Bridge One was peppered with craters, ruined vehicles, and the frozen corpses from offensives and counter-offensives from both sides.

"Keep up the bombardment, let them come to us," she said. She wasn't sure what the enemy commander's new plan was, whoever was leading the ground forces across from her was a skilled commander, but they hadn't engaged each other yet. She felt, through the Force, that would be different today. Her presense was a morale boost for the soldiers, that a Dark Councilor continued to fight in the ice and broken rubble with them for over a month... it was just one sign that in the end...

Darth Arcanix would never ask her men to do something she wasn't willing to do herself.

Hunter Blackburn · May 18, 2020

Location: Uppermost portion Bridge 2
Allies:

Darth Bellum |

Grrwunhoooll Agaburry |

Imperial Warlord Zovesa | Cameron Farwell | Other NIO Forces
Enemies:

Lark | Amur |

Madelyn Lowe | All Sith Forces
Eventually Engaging:

Darth Prazutis

Infantry Armor
Disruptor Carbine
Thyrisian Battle Oil
Blue Mojo Necklace
Hybrid Pistol
Vibrosword
Disruption device
Void Grenades

Wind buffeted the exterior of the gunship at the lead of the formation causing it to jolt. All around the vessel, the storm raged on, its fury threatening to fling the shuttle into the side of a mountain and end its life. Within its interior sat the Galactic Marines. When all else failed, when the stormtroopers or Force Corps couldn’t get it done they were the ones to be called in. Twenty armored soldiers checked over their equipment, weapons stripped down and pieced back together. Grenades and the like secured. The twenty-first stood slathering himself with the Thyrisian battle oil.

The oil-slicked Thyrisian shined in the light, each muscle apparent as he rubbed the transdermal into his flesh. Some would think this an odd sight among a group of elite soldiers, in truth it was just another day when Adrial Magnus was apart of the squad. The last engagement they’d been sent in he had barely managed to fit into his armor the sergeant forcing the private to lose some weight.

Another jolt rocked the vessel causing Adrial to nearly lose his balance and spill what bit of his oil was left. Catching himself and inhaling deeply, the scent of the oil-filled the warrior’s nostrils, a sense of jubilation, and ecstasy filling his being.

Coming through the coms the voice of the pilot gave the warning. “T-minus five till landfall. You’re dropping in hot.”

“No better place to be,” Adrial muttered to himself as he began to drab himself in the white and grey armor the New Imperial Order had been so gracious to gift the marines. As he dawned it he could feel the strength it offered, and thank the force it wasn’t as restrictive as base Stormtrooper armor.

Finally taking his seat the Sergeant of the group stood up clearing his voice. “The orders come in boys, we have been given permission to loose fire upon the Sith. We will be what the Sith fear, we will be what makes them shit themselves, we will be the ones to take that karking city! Stormtroopers can’t get it done, force corps can’t get it done! Who can get it done Marines?!”

“We can!” Came a chorus from the troops. The stomping of their feet seemed to shake the vessel, the drumbeat of war, of carnage, of destruction. The chant continued as the gunship came on its final approach.

“Who’s going to own this motherkarking planet?!”

“WE ARE!”

“On the left and right of you are your brothers and sisters, as you march feet first into Hell we will bring a holy damnation the likes of which the Sith will cower and tell their filthy apprentices about!”

“We don’t fear hell, we are the ones hell fears!”

“OORAH!”

The red lights that had filled the chamber flashed green as the landing ramp lowered. The freezing air of Mygeeto invaded the confines of the gunship. Its fury buffeting the soldiers as they fought to the edge of the ramp. Soldiers one by one leaped out, snatched away and disappearing in the blinding snow their armor blending in. Anti-air fire filled the skies shaking the vessel violently.

Looking up just in time Adrial saw one of the several other gunships in formation detonate into a ball of flame and metal. “Jump!” Came the order of the sergeant and the Thyrisian did as ordered. Or at least attempted to.

A round of plasma fire struck the front half of their gunship. Flames immediately filled the passengers bay swallowing over half the platoon that had been sent with Adrial. The kinetic force of the explosion flung the soldier back and off his feet careening back into the gale of snow.

The final thing Adrial saw of the rest of his platoon and the commanding officer was the twisted metal machine diving headfirst into one of the bridges. It slammed into the ground with an earthshattering impact before becoming a miniature star that engulfed all in its wake.

This is what they signed up for, death was as much a part of being a Marine as anything else. Centering himself, not allowing the doubt and fear to seize him, Adrial spun in the air activating his jetpack to slow his descent.

Booted feet met the uppermost bridge above the second. From it a cloud of blaster dampening aerosol was released weakening the impact of ten bolts that struck the soldier. They felt like a child slapping him. Staring through the glasteel visor Adrial rushed out of the cloud his fist came up colliding with the jaw plate of an unfortunate legionnaire. The sheer ferocity of the blow jolted the soldiers head back duraplast threatening to crack all before a repulsor wave came out and sent the soldier and two of his comrades hurtling off the bridge and to their demise.

Lord Venari · May 18, 2020

Objective: Defend the Muunilist capital city of Harnaidan
Allies:

Vallaro Kindall

Leon Amun TSE & Allies
Enemies:

Ryv

Lucien Dooku

Dorian Sicarrio NIO, GA & Allies
Theme

Silence washed over the streets of Harnaidan as Venari's seemingly undying legion struck down the last of the NIO's most recent offensive. The battlegroup had been tasked with shoring up the Sith war machine's forward defenses and coordinating any counter efforts. Venari himself played conductor to the shadow orchestra. His men were as masterful handlers of the many instruments of death. Together they would play the darkest of symphonies.

After the Imperial citizenry vacated, defensive emplacements were installed in key locations throughout the city. Anti-Air batteries peppered the opposition's flyers and had been supplemented by a network of barbican shield pylons. Artillery rounds howled through the air bombarding the heaviest of enemy armor - reducing it to scrap. The NIO and their Alliance allies had beaten the Sith-Imperial perimeter like a drum, but Empire had held. Not a single inch would be spared to their enemy.

Attached to the orbiting armada, the Reclaimer supplied reinforcements to the Sith-Imperial force below, and aerial support squadrons wherever needed. A fresh contingent of AT-HEs and their lighter AT-RE counterparts joined the armored division's repulsortanks just outside of the capital meeting the enemy head on. War was in air; painting the Harnaidan canvas with a mix of brilliant green and crimson blaster fire, smoke stacks that pierced the skies and a collision of the galaxy's deadliest legions. At the capital’s forefront Lord Venari perused his rallying troops as a lull in the open warfare reached its peak.

The Sith Lord inhaled the chaos as others might take their first morning breath. The fiery heat coated his lungs. The thrill of battle coursed through his veins. With his blade in one hand and his helmet in another, Venari headed the local staging area. He stood a dark void seething bogan energy. Before him, his men organized themselves into columns preparing to reinforce those who had reengaged at the battlefront. A resounding boom followed the emergence of a brilliant light in the distance. The ground shook beneath the legions boots. Discipline and courage was the troop, still they'd need the vigor of true belief in the battles to come.

"Brothers, sisters of the empire hear me. Today we face an enemy unlike any we have before. Thus far we have but experienced a taste of their capability. I say this not to frighten any, but to ask a simple question. Are you hungry for more?" He shouted.

The legion cheered, blasters and fists alike rose to the sky. Yes, discipline was indeed the troop, but Venari would see his forces frenzied by the most sincere faith in what they were doing - in their war for galactic conquest.

"Good. Good. Indeed our appetite has only been whetted yet. The traitorous band of insurgents led by former Lord-General will stop at nothing to see our great Empire fall. All of our work undone. Their fear has led them to take up arms with the likes of Galactic Alliance and its Jedi forces. The folly of this union is all too revealing of their fraudulent nature. As if they, or the rest of the Apostate could ever truly abide one another. Our Empire, the one true Sith Empire, shares no such weakness, no such fear. Only the strongest of wills are capable of bringing order to the galaxy. Neither the feeble convictions of this New Imperial Order nor the halfhearted measures of the Alliance have what it takes. So I ask again, brothers, sisters, in the face of those that would leave our homes to anarchy, are you hungry?"

The cheers of the troops grew into a citywide roar. The fire had been stoked, the machine ready to wage war once again. Wailing sirens signaled the approach of NIO forces. Bantha to the slaughter.

"Man your stations! We sate our hunger with the hearts of all those who oppose our mighty Empire! To battle!"

The legion rounded about and charged to the city outskirts to meet the joint NIO-Alliance force head on. A TIE squadron soared overhead bearing on an incoming force of heavy transport vessels. Meanwhile, Venari peeled off of the legion and approached his most trustworthy allies, tailed by his skulking pet.

"Vallaro, I'd like to gag their squawkers. We'll keep the tank full; just make sure enemy comms are jammed," he then turned his attention to the armored giant, "Vod, I hope you've brought your biggest toys. We're going to need them," he said with a toothy smile before marching out of the makeshift camp.

With a raised comlink, the Sith Lord contacted his Star Destroyer, "Kometes Dorund, how goes the battle above?"

"My lord, we've batted away any attempts to get in close to the armada or descend upon the Siege Palace. A compliment of TIEs will support ground efforts while the rest contest enemy naval and fighter advances. More armor is being prepared for the front as we speak."

"Appreciated. Good hunting, Kometes,"

"Likewise, my lord."

Another high-yield explosion shook the outer city as the largest plume of smoke yet tore into the sky. Venari donned his helmet and switched over to the built in communicator.

"Tribune Waldar, what's going on out there?"

"Assault concussion missiles, my lord. We've been trading blows with the enemy, targeting clusters of their heavy walkers,"

"As long as it's us and not them. What's the sitrep?"

"My lord, the NIO and its allies continue to probe our defenses. We've tackled the largest elements in the assault but some are beginning to pour through. Airborne speeder drops have bypassed some of our counteroffensive and are charging the line. The spearhead of the attack is making significant progress. If they continue unimpeded they will break through to the Eastern Square within the business sector in minutes,"

"Then we shall ensnare them. Keep up the pressure but begin shifting focus to those trailing the forward unit. I'll lead a detachment and head them off,"

"You should know sir, a small element of airborne infantry has been spotting in the area. We've been hunting them but they've proved quite evasive,"

"Leave it to me," Venari said with a sneer.

With that, Venari, his allies and several legionary squads marched through the capital toward the east. Not a word was spoken; there were only he guttural screams and agonizing shouts of those who died in glorious battle. Radiant strokes of floating crimson blades dissected the sparse groupings of NIO troopers that had survived the interior fighting. Blaster bolts tore through the air as enemy and ally alike fell.

Luckily only minimal casualties had been suffered between the camp and the Eastern Square. The plaza had been quiet with only minimal traces of conflict. A few scorched building fronts and tattered trees. Otherwise it was a desolate place. Venari shut his eyes and reached out with feelers tethered to that dark place within.

The Lord raised his left hand in sync with the first echo of blaster fire. With the art of tutaminis he had held the blaster bolt in place and redirected it back to its source, an NIO sniper thirty levels up in the third tower to the Sith detachments left. Immediately following, a mixed group of NIO stormtroopers and Alliance airborne descended on Venari's force. Legionnaires charged the enemy head on. Four of Venari's sabers detached from the back of his belt and stormed the opposition. Like all those before them, the NIO-Alliance survivors soon found themselves dismembered and left to rot. Before long the fighting had stopped as the legion wrapped up the engagement.

Venari scanned the eastern square, the death throes of the rogue unit faded to background clutter. A few cross bridges sat above an open plaza. Storefronts lined the edges of where the business sector must have frequented for their midday meals. There was enough room between the towering buildings for airspeeders to maneuver through and the streets below large enough for a single line of ground vehicles.

"I want heavy infantry and defensive turrets lined on the cross bridges, snipers and rockets in the surrounding towers and infantry holed up in the surrounding shops. Keep a detachment of the heavies back in case the bridge gets hammered," Venari ordered. He then used his helmets comm system to contact Tribune, "Waldar, divert a UP-AWs my way. I want them ready and waiting."

"Right away my lord, three should arrive just before the spearhead," the Tribune replied.

"Very good. I'll contact you after the battle." Venari then turned to the hulking giant, Leon, "Vod, prepare the big guns,"

Amur · May 18, 2020

Post: 2
Location: Mygeeto, Southern Mesas, Bridge 2
Faction Objective: 1
Allies: Darth Kados

Lark

Obinmiux R'avfa | TSE Forces
Enemies:

Imperial Warlord Zovesa

Ignatius

Darth Kentarch | NIO Forces
Gear: Listed in Character Bio along with Two Durasteel climbing axes affixed to belt. Boots have been replaced with spiked boots from Alpine Legionnaire Armor
Theme Shall Defend
Immediate Objective: Survive the fall and get back to the front

Everything was a tumbling mess of imagery as it cycled between the white snow, to the grey and black hues of the mountainside and the metallic outline of the falling ship. Amur would quickly grasp for one of her axes looking to see if there was something she could smash the axe head into to break her fall and prevent her from smacking head on with the ground at a couple hundred kilometers an hour. Head cranking and turning just as much as her body tumbled only for the white void to obscure any promising targets. A bigger problem would begin to climb to the top of her mind or rather it was falling down with her as she realized she was quickly gaining on the falling ship. The same ship that had nearly killed her only seconds ago.

Eyes widening beneath the helm the Sith would try to steer herself in the wind to escape colliding into the hull; however, the ship’s massive size combined with the speed difference meant that impact was almost certain. Between jagged metal, weapon mounts and the gyrating motion of the ship nowhere looked safe to land. Best case scenario would be getting caught between the ship and the mountain so it would crush and instantly kill her. A painless death compared to all the other ways she could die right now. Amur felt like there was only one thing she could do right now. Tucking herself into a ball she shut her eyes and hoped that the Force was with her as she tried to summon a Force barrier to try and weather the impact as best as she could.

During so she would feel the oddest tug, at first thinking it was delusional machination of her mind trying to play on her only to feel it pull and direct her. Looking down she would see the exposed hole to the bridge as she seemed to fall right into place. Amur even seemed to be slowing in speed as well. Not having enough time to mentally process what the feth just happened she would just just swing her axe downwards just as she entered the cabin causing the ice spike to make purchase against one of the control consoles. Ignoring the flurry of sparks she would just pull herself forward and reach out to grab onto the console, clinging onto it for dear life. Completely born out of instinct as the words of the man who told her to hold on barely even registered to her.

Feeling every shake, vibration and jolt be transmitted from the ship to her Amur would just hope that this mad ride could finally just end for her. Thankfully it would as the sound of dragging metal screeching to halt resonated in her ears. She could feel her body slump down a bit as momentum of the fall finally ended. She would continue to hold on though, her body physically shaking and quivering from all of the adrenaline coursing through her. It still took her a few seconds to realize that she could let go now. An officer to her left turned to look at her only to back away and nearly fall over himself upon realizing that the axe was only centimeters away from his own head.

Voices were heard all around her but they felt only like distant echoes as she looked out the hole that was once a transparisteel window. The Bridge was dark, not in the silly metaphorical Force sense but actually dark to look around in as the Sith’s eyes adjusted from the brighter white of outside to the dark interior. Staring back at Amur was a cloud of white as the now open window to the bridge was now an inlet for snow as it began to cake the floors. Getting on her feet and retrieving her axe she would begin to step forward towards the hole before seeing the Sith Pureblood (Darth Kados) put his helmet on and make way for somewhere. Amur followed, soon to find that the pureblood led her to an exit. Her walk took a brisk pace as she bolted out of the ship and made sure she was clear of it. The last few minutes of her life having told her that crashed, crashing and soon to crash ships were the single most lethal occupational hazard to her health right now.

The cold hit her again now she was outside as she stared off into the void searching for any signs of the bridge and any indicators of where they were. With little visual reference or stimuli Amur’s mind began to drift off and wander into the land of another frozen world… one laden with uncomfortable memories. Reality snapped back as she heard the voice commenting about the Hell she had survived. The Sith that was the head of the ship now turning and facing as she would crank her body to face him. The next thing He did was introduce himself and ask for her name. Amur stammered at Kados’ rather simple query.

”uh, uh Amur. Knight Amur… My lord.” She stumbled as she made an awkward attempt at a bow. Still it was enough to force Amur to start thinking about more than just what was immediately around her. Her eyes picked up something behind Kados as she saw a flash of color in the snowy haze moving. Tracking it and correlating it with the sounds of explosion barging their way through the wind, she would realize what it was: Tank fire. The bridges were right there and now she remembered what mountain pass they were standing on. She also realized what that Tank fire could mean.

”My lord.” She called to Kados after he was done asking for his bloody systems check, her voice much stronger with a better sense of Confidence ringing through it. ”The situation is bad right now, my unit was mounting a counterattack on bridge one when a ship crashed into the bridge and wiped them out. I can’t speak for bridge two but we’ve been fighting over them for days. If what I hear is true then NIO are deploying tanks. Worst case, our defenses are compromised just when they are trying to break them. We need time.”

Her eyes drifted back to the ship and then towards Kados. Knowing that she was risking a lot asking a Sith Lord this but after nearly dying several times she stopped caring about what lip a fresh faced prick might give her.

”We’ll be needed on the bridges, but we’ll likely won’t be enough. I’d give up on your ship being made air worthy again, it won’t matter if the bridges get overrun. Your best bet would be to evacuate all injured crew and nonessential equipment, and have the remaining crew put their full attention on getting every karking gun and defense on that ship online. It might not fly but she’d be one of the most heavily armed and protected defensive fortifications we would have right now.

She held her breath awaiting the Pureblood's response.

Vaulkhar · May 18, 2020

// EXECUTOR //
// MUUNILIST // ASSAULT ON MYGEETO // RIP AND TEAR //
// AM I A PSYCHO? //
// LIGHTSABER //
//

Imperial Warlord Zovesa //

Taeli Raaf //

A seething hatred stood within the particles of snow as they descended upon the planet of Mygeeto, only growing in speed and intensity with each passing hour. The shadowed form of the Lord Executor stared out from beneath his gold-plated mask, a gaze of burning crimson failing to pierce the frozen veil. Days of bloody warfare turned to weeks with still no end in sight. Many within the New Imperial Order's forces found themselves tiring, their mortal bodies incapable of waging such a dogged battle for as long as they had. The Specter of Annihilation could not blame any of them. Whereas his men grew tired, Vaulkhar grew hungry. The opening days of Mygeeto's Siege saw a battle unlike any before. Soldiers who once stood as brothers gunning each other down without hesitation. Each bridge exuded a darkness Vaulkhar greedily consumed, fueling his war against the forces of which he hated above all else. At times, the fallen Jedi fought for hours, bleeding into the next sunrise, as he pushed with an unquenchable fury towards the malign entity that is his father.

Vaulkhar had met Kaine on the field of battle more than once since they both set foot on the planet. It was as if they had established a hyper-lethal game of cat and mouse. One would take a position, goading the other out to war, only to eventually cross blades. There could be no question of how the father and son felt about one another with each encounter. Battle after battle saw two beings of immense power collide with the power of great storms. Vaulkhar danced through the battlefield as if he were a tornado, raging without end, twirling his weapons with an intricacy and precision that brought doom to more Sith-Imperial Legionnaires than he could count. The Dark Lord was another matter entirely, likened more to a dark hurricane, as he slowly enveloped the battlefield in a haze of death and darkness. By the time the parent and child would meet, blood-splattered grins carved themselves into the beautiful, yet grim visage, of both men. No love passed between them, only an urge to crush the other and finally prove to the galaxy who stood at the head of the Zambrano lineage.

Yet, when Vaulkhar closed his eyes and sought out the familiar feeling of his father, arguably the peak of Sith doctrine, he felt nothing. The Executor's entire body threatened to explode as fury boiled within him. The sheer audacity the Emperor could muster in turning away from their war set every fiber of Vaulkhar's being into action. Unable to control himself any longer, the fallen Jedi surged into the growing storm, content to relieve his stress on those he could reach. More bullet than man, he sped across the snow-covered bridge, passing each checkpoint and defensive position as nothing more than a dark blur.

The first red-garbed warrior Vaulkhar found standing watch likely never saw him coming. The Executor took the man entirely by surprise, lowering his shoulder to drop the man to the snowy ground. Vaulkhar's boot stomped down into the man's chest once, twice, and final time as a satisfying crunch echoed from the now-broken man's body. Vaulkhar Zambrano reached down and dragged the man after him, near-silent as he stalked through the growing snowstorm. As he came across a trio of more soldiers, the fallen Jedi lashed out, sending the remains of their forward scout soaring through the air to impact the ground beside them. A hint of surprise, anger, and fear permeated their beings, spilling out and into the cosmic sea all around them. From beneath Vaulkhar's mask, he mirrored the inhuman grin before launching into action. Opting out of the vermilion saber he'd favored for so long, the Executor sought to relive his stress in a far more primal manner.

Reaching the first, gauntleted hands gripped the helmet covering his head and squeezed. The force came to the former Sith's beckoning call, a great power taking root in his grasp, feeding on the rage threatening to tear Vaulkhar apart. Fissures spread through the helmet's T-visor as the protective exterior caved in on itself. The man beneath screamed out for help, pain staining each syllable spoken. Silence followed the victim's direct plea, though, it that silence quickly filled with the sound of the helmet finally giving way, tearing into the flesh of the tender flesh beneath. Blood spurted from the ruined armor piece, coating the golden mask in a thin layer of crimson ichor. When Vaulkhar turned to face the remaining two, one froze while the other lifted his weapon. To fully take advantage of such a blunder, Vaulkhar practically danced behind the man locked in place. His arms slithered around the man's helmeted head, only to yank violently in one direction. Bone screeched, and muscle tore as the head turned to face nearly the opposite direction. The Executor kicked the corpse out and against the final of the trio, racing after it to tackle the man. Now trapped beneath the mass of raw, dark side energy, the soldier could do nothing but scream and beg for mercy as Vaulkhar tore into him.

Vaulkhar's bloodbath slowed to a halt as three familiar words echoed across his commlink. The time had finally come. The final push to determine Mygeeto's fate had begun. He reached down and unclasped the lightsaber hilt from his side, sliding his thumb along the weapon to activate it. A snap-hiss sounded as a vermilion glow lit up the nearby snow.

"Soon."

Jyon Hlervu · May 18, 2020

Location: SIBC-VT, (Bridge Two), Southern Mesas, Mygeeto
Allies: Amur,

Taeli Raaf ,

Madelyn Lowe ,

Lark , Darth Kados,

Obinmiux R'avfa , | TSE Forces
Enemies:

Imperial Warlord Zovesa ,

Darth Bellum ,

Ignatius ,

Kyrel Ren | NIO Forces

The Sith Empire’s forces were still in majority control of the bridges, and they have been for some time, but Jyon knew that was eventually going to change. She felt it in her bones. The New Imperial Order’s attacks have been gradual and methodical so far and the lack of progress must surely be extremely grating on some general or marshall’s nerves so much so that an all out attack will eventually be ordered. The Sith Knight knew that it was coming, but not knowing when such an attack would come was tugging away at her anxiety. The fact that she was not able to utilise her lightsaber to just kill someone already was frustrating her. All that firing to-and-fro from each side with blaster and artillery fire was boring, and made her wish for the charge to come. Picking up an idle blaster rifle from a fallen legionnaire, she fired off several shots of her own at the opposing forces in a bid to control her frustration. That didn’t work and she swore loudly before dumping the rifle onto the ground and stomping off and sulking like a petulant child to the command section of the battle lines. It was there that the Sith Imperial Prefect caught her attention to inform her about the massive impending attack.

She nodded curtly and asked if there was any news about who would be in charge of the attack. The first name mentioned was the only name she heard, the rest of the names droning out as her mind focused on the singular name. Her face turned pale, as white as the blizzards buffeting around them. General Kor Vexen of the New Imperial Order. She knew that name. The nagging feeling she’d been feeling this whole time was finally made known to her. The Sith Lord was referred to as a traitor by many after his defection from The Sith Empire and just about now, the Prefect was more than happy to let her know how much he hated the traitor, his words dripping with such hate and venom. Such anger, such hate.

The man would have made a fine Sith, if only he was force sensitive. Once upon a time, Jyon had served under the Sith Lord Kor Vexen, when she was still a trooper in the Sith Imperial Legion. She had served him faithfully then and even spent her first mission as a newly promoted Captain under his command. His subsequent betrayal from the Empire had come as a shock to her and placed her in a loss. While others comfortably referred to him as a traitor, she found that the same words could not leave her mouth. This was highly troubling. As her mind and heart fought for supremacy over her inner turmoil, she left the Prefect to his vitriol, walking back to the front lines of the Sith Imperial trenches, waiting for the incoming onslaught to arrive. It shouldn't take all that long now.

Wraith · May 18, 2020

// BUCKETHEAD - 3 //
// MUUNILIST // ASSAULT ON HARNAIDAN // TAKE THE CITY //
// New Imperial Storm Recon Armor Mk. I // KXR SBR-60x Particle Beam Battle Rifle // Tech IL-25X Sniper Rifle //
// Sam Deckard //

Irveric Tavlar //

Belisarius //

Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt // Stormtrooper Corps //

Davis "Wraith" Garrick found himself gripping one of the various handholds within his dropship a tad too tightly. Much like his battle-buddy, the Sam "Tempest" Deckard, a sense of dread fell over the scout trooper. The training, the simulations, the wargames, it all led up to this moment. Many considered this path a foolish one, as no one waged war with the Sith Empire and won. Many had tried, all had failed. It made a mortal man such as himself, a soldier trained to shoot a blaster, feel far too small and fragile. Yet, another part of him yearned for the field of battle once more. When the Sovereign-Imperator shared his truths of the Sith-Imperial regime with his army, they had followed. Davis had followed. Now, moments before the battle truly began, he had no intention of turning his back on their cause now. Nothing would bring the trooper greater joy than shattering the Empire built on the backs of his dead brothers.

< "All gunships, this is RDAG One, be advised we have entered their anti-air range. Prepare for evasive maneuvers, the heat's coming.">

Wraith took a seat beside Tempest, strapping himself into the safety holding in place. The chaos of orders, communications, and call outs surged into their helmets, notifying them of the heat their transport currently faced. All around them, the anti-air weaponry battered the New Imperial Order's forces, sending a sizeable amount to a swift and explosive end. Davis hoped and prayed to survive up until at least putting boots to the ground. If he was to die, let it be with a blaster in his hand and a Sith in his sights, not trapped shattered and unrecognizable in the rubble of a ruined ship. When the nearest ship collided with their vessel and tore a hole through its hull, Garrick had long since pressed himself against the back of his seat in hopes of surviving the crash. However, seeing Tempest leap into action to save their ally sent a surge of courage, or maybe foolishness, through his very being. Undoing the safety harness, Davis leaped up in time to see the second of their squadron flying right towards Sam.

Thinking quickly, Wraith dropped a shoulder and slammed it into the flailing soldier's form. While it was no mercy to the doomed man, it ensured the unprotected form of Sam would not join their squadmates. Before Garrick could join Deckard's heroic attempt at saving the hanging man, the entire ship jolted to one side, sending him slamming into the opposite wall. A grunt of pain, followed by an involuntary scream escaped Davis as the sight the rapidly approaching ground laid before him. The scout trooper reached out and took hold of Deckard's belt while taking hold of the bar once more. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, accepting darkness's encroaching grasp.

When the sensation's of consciousness eventually returned to the downed stormtrooper, he groaned out in pain. He could feel a steady hand dragging him behind cover as blaster bolts whizzed by overhead.

"Ah, shit," Wraith groaned out, slowly beginning to kick against the floor with his legs. That added bit of motion propelled the duo behind cover maybe a split-second sooner, which was all Garrick needed to ensure a blaster bolt did not slam into his battered head. Now out of the direct fire, he shakily pushed himself up against the wall and pulled his helmet away. Blood seeped from a wound over his left eye, threatening to claim his vision in the crucial moment. He quickly wiped the blood away before slipping his helmet back on. His armor's HUD slowly came back to life, though every few seconds, it crackled with static. His head snapped from left, then right, searching for a means of defending himself. Spotting a nearby rifle, he slid towards the weapon, scooped it up, and took up a position establishing a crossfire across from Deckard.

"Tempest!" Wraith called over the battle, his finger fanning the trigger of his rifle, dropping a pair of legionnaires as they rushed their position. "Get Lyra or Belisarius on the fucking line! We need evac now!"

Ellie Mors · May 19, 2020

SEVEN DEVILS

Location: Muunilist | Harnaidan City
Objective: Defend Muunilist, Punish Opposition
Allies: The Sith Empire
Enemies: New Imperial Order | Maynard Treicolt & Loske Treicolt
Equipment: Saberstaff

"In death, I am born -"

Those were the last words that Braith Achlys had uttered before she was killed, impaled on the blade of a Jedi Knight and destroyed by the one that had given her - a mere facsimile of the truth - a lease on life. Her words had echoed true on the world of Yuuzhan'tar, adopted home of the Yuuzhan Vong, as a darkness pulled together into one being - one of mind, body, and soul - born from the flesh of the shamed ones and the pieces of other creatures that the shaper caste had discarded after taking what they had given value to.

Darth Prazutis had grown attached to her, unwilling to kill the dream that he had grown so accustomed to associating as his love - it was instead an unwitting Jedi that had taken that initiative and put an end to the being that had been a mere proxy of the truth.

Such good deeds the Jedi always presumed themselves to make - to kill a tyrant to free its people, to slay a Sith to end their cycle of hatred and despair - and somehow the galaxy was only ever worse for it. She - the one so clearly evil, commanding the Yuuzhan Vong from within a cognition throne of her own - was certainly fit to kill, wasn't she? One less evil in the galaxy the simple mind might argue, and perhaps if anything were ever that simple it might have been true - but reality is never as kind as a children's story, and sometimes there are being which are bound simply due to the existence of others; it is at this intersection of truths, where a man strikes down a woman he deems necessary to kill in order to rid the stars of an ounce of darkness, that instead a far more terrible reality in released from its prison worlds away.

Light years away from the place of her "birth", the walls of a tall gothic building shook as the cacophony of what could only be described as the sounds of war echoed outside. Only a skeleton crew remained in the building with her, a couple dozen tech workers to keep communications running and the lights on and a few soldiers she had never bothered to remember the names of to play the part of security detail. The rest had, like many of those who had either been posted on Muunilist or had arrived on the planet for transport out to Mygeeto, immediately moved out towards the portions of the city that had seen immediate action - whether it was lucky for them or not remained to be seen, as the rather loud explosion at the rooftop alerted even her of the arrival of the enemy. While the majority of those that had remained in the building were, indeed, in the floors above, she had been standing near the center of the planning room.

Reaching for the saberstaff that lay on the top of the table which sat at the middle of the room, the Sith lord turned her gaze towards the ceiling of the room before igniting her weapon's dual ends. The architecture of the building had positioned only one floor of the building between the room she was in and the rooftop itself, as the planning room's walls stretched remarkably far up before reaching the ceiling. Small flakes of debris fell from the ceiling like a cloud of dust as actual debris fell from the rooftop the floor above hers, and with a frown two large wings folded tightly against the back of her shoulders like a bat - her displeasure clear in the way she separated her saberstaff at its joint so that it came apart into two twin sabers. It would only be a matter of time before the action would come to her.

Republic Engineering · May 19, 2020

[ Post Theme Music ]

Location: In Transit to Muunilinst’s Surface.
Objective: Breach Harnaidan’s Defences.
Set Piece: Subterranean Sith Citadel.
Allies: The Galactic Alliance, The New Imperial Order.
Enemies: The Sith Empire.
Equipment: See Signature for Biography Listing.
Complement: One REC-SU01 LR/FA Combat Shuttle | Sigma Squad: Two Alliance Commando NPC’s, and

Din Marren

Outer Rim Territories // Obtrexta Sector // Muunilinst System.
Mark [- 00:17:52] from Operation Commencement.

As the New Imperial Order was forced into a grinding stalemate on the distant world of Mygeeto, the Alliance Commandos of Sigma Squad found themselves tasked with taking down ancillary targets along the Braxant Run. Their mission was to strike at the various deep-space installations that the Sith Empire had established within the Sector, clearing the way for the New-Imperial Armada to advance without becoming bogged down in even more grinding bouts of attrition. With practiced ease and the surgical precision expected of some of the Alliance's fighting elite, the Commando's sabotaged the various Gravity-well Projectors throughout the Obtrexta and Clacis Sectors - saving dozens of New-Imperial Squadrons from meeting their untimely demise. Their work in the shadows eventually led towards the Spearhead that struck at Muunilinst. It would see the fate of an Empire hang in the balance as the two idealistic titans of Imperialism duked it out for supremacy.

Gideon chuckled softly at such a notion. This sprawling and ultimately, wasteful conflict was brought about by a difference in ideals. Yet, in the Commando's eyes, they were simply two sides of the same coin. They were Imperials who sought to sacrifice the freedoms of their respective peoples to ensure their collective safety and the stability of their diverse cultural societies. However, per the crumbling pages of history, Sapient Life continually yearns to be free. While the Elders of their respective communities seek to attain some semblance of routine and normality, the true beauty of that observation lies within the next generation's hands. It is in the hands of the youth that the ever-shifting tides of the future are shaped, often guided by their untamed desires and the fiery passion burning within their collective breasts. More often than not, these bestial emotions are shackled by tradition as the Elders seek to control their young - guiding them into a future, not of their own design.

In many respects, that was precisely what currently transpired within the Albarrio and Obtrexta Sectors. The New Imperial Order was the bastardized offspring of the Sith Empire, and they sought to rage against the seemingly relentless tide of Sith-Imperialism spreading across the Galaxy.

Lieutenant Raith couldn't care less who won in this struggle for dominance, as both Imperialist factions were enemies in his eyes. The man grew up under the thumb of Imperial oppression and knew all too well what kind of stability and security such regimes brought. However, the Commando also saw the wisdom in their Chancellor's choice of supporting the New Imperial Order. They were far closer to the borders of the reconstituted Galactic Alliance and hadn't participated in the various and destructive campaigns that wholly devastated the Core Regions of Space. It would've been a diplomatic disaster if the Chancellor decided to throw the Alliance's collective weight behind the Sith Empire - as they sought to crush their wayward offspring - so it seemed like a no-brainer. Gideon didn't have to like the decision, though. The man just had to tolerate his superior's choice until the bonds of convenience were shattered - either through a New-Imperial victory or defeat.

When the overhanging running lights of the Shuttle's troop compartment flickered to life, bathing their surroundings in a wash of crimson light, Gideon's mind instinctively cleared the errant clutter. Only the details regarding his Unit's mission mattered now. As the attack on Muunilinst was well underway, the Commando's of Sigma Squad was tasked with scouting out other avenues into the City - seeking to bypass the Sith Empire's entrenched position near the Outskirts. They were provided with the information that was garnered by the New Imperial Order during their defection from the Sith-Imperial regime, which showcased an interesting landmark that was under construction. It was difficult to determine what was transpiring within that Sector of the planet's surface from the orbital scans. However, all that mattered was the was a possibility of a connection to the Capital city that could be exploited.

That information was further supplemented by the recently acquired data from the New-Imperial BattleNet that saw all traces of that landmark scrubbed from the orbital scans. Clearly, there was something in that area that the Sith Empire didn't want to be found.

As their Shuttle sailed upon the aetheric tides of the void towards the ever-looming presence of the rapidly approaching planet, Gideon withdrew a small holoprojector from his combat harness, activating it with a flick of an armoured thumb. The data regarding the missing landmark materialized before his very eyes. The colour of the hololithic projection clashed with the ambient crimson - casting several portions of the Shuttle's interior in a soft violet hue. The orbital telemetry data that was transmitted over to the Alliance Craft after it arrived on station suggested that their intended target was nestled within a series of canyons beyond the outskirts of Harnaidan. Whatever it was, their destination would be far from the ever-shifting advance of the New Imperial Armed Forces - leaving them far behind enemy lines without the hope of reinforcement.

"I don't like this," Gideon said as the man manipulated the projected image - hoping to get a better view.

"Neither do I," replied Whisper as the man went through the motions of secondary preparation. "We're relying on information taken from the Sith Empire that would have easily been falsified, leading us - or any other poor soul - into a trap. Who knows what they've got down there."

"It could be anything," Dynamo chimed in as the Commando mimicked his comrades in the act of preparation. "For all we know, it could be a hidden underground installation used by the Sith-Imperial military for… well… anything. Like, they may use that planetary Sector to test new bioweapons or create their legions of sithspawn. Hell, it could even be a secure underground bunker for their Command Staff to hunker down in as their nameless lessers through themselves into the meat grinder above."

Gideon chuckled. "Whatever it is, Sigma Squad will take it for the Alliance, and offer it to our New-Imperial friends as a way to circumvent the Empire's fortifications. We'll let the ground-pounders throw themselves against the proverbial walls of Harnaidan, and show these Imperials how wars are won."

With that said, and sufficient time for everyone to memorize their route had passed, Gideon deactivated the hololithic projection and placed the device back into his harness.

:: Prep for Atmospheric Entry,:: their Pilot said, as his voice projected itself throughout the entirety of the vessel. :: We're coming in hot. ::

So far, the journey to the surface was smooth - despite the escalating battle that filled the emptiness of the void with blinding detonations of vivid colours, and fields of ever-increasing debris. It seemed their arrival was considered to be of little consequence compared to the various warships that duked it out in orbit. Their threat margin was likely delegated to nearby Sith-Imperial starfighter squadrons - which were presently busy with their New-Imperial counterparts. Their luck, however, wouldn't last forever - especially once they reached the surface. The Commandos braced themselves all the same, whilst the exterior ablative armour found itself welcomed by Muunilinst's fiery embrace.

Their transport juddered and shook violently as the planet's atmosphere fought against their intrusion. Gideon always hated this part. Due to their approach vector's aggressiveness, several of the inertial compensators didn't activate in time - leaving the passengers of the Shuttle to feel Muunilist's protective layer greets them with all the fury of a woman scorned. A few munition crates found themselves knocked over by the tumultuous nature of the transition from space - but as they were cleaned of their supplies beforehand, nothing skittered out onto the grated deployment deck.

When the shaking stopped, the Commando took the time to kick several of the spilled munition crates out of his way. It wouldn't do for his Unit to trip over someone's carelessness. They'd be dealt with when the Shuttle disgorged their passengers, as a long journey awaited them afterwards - provided their luck didn't run out, and they were caught up in the Orbital battle. With the path cleared, Gideon ran through a swift tertiary scan of all his equipment - making sure that everything was where it was supposed to be. As he reached the disruptor mag-locked to his armoured pack, there was a moment of uncertainty that speared through his thoughts. The man brought this weapon, after having earned it in a sparring contest with a Thyrsian Sun Guard - alongside several other wagered trinkets. He never used it before and wasn't sure of its capabilities - but there was a part of him that was glad he brought it.

For who truly knew what awaited them on the planet below. Gideon could only they were adequately prepared.

:: We're approaching the Drop Zone. Prep yourselves for a quick disembark Sigma. I don't want to stick around too long and get caught up in those AA emplacements. ::

|

Telis Taharin-Zambrano | @Sith Empire Forces on Muunilinst |

Sor-Jan Xantha · May 19, 2020

LOC [ SOUTHERN MESAS ] >No Man's Land
ALLIED [ NIO ]

Imperial Warlord Zovesa

Jekadius Lawson
HOSTILE [ TSE ] >Open to tags
EQUIPMENT [ Imperial Knight Lightsaber ] [ F-11D Blaster Carbine ] [ Briletto PPK ] [ CD-95x Extreme Cold Weather Comm Unit ]

[ theme for a lost paddy > odd future < my hero weeb academia ]

He'd always known that war was inevitable.

When his parents had enrolled him into the Imperial Academy so that he would have an education, he'd known that it would end with his becoming a stormtrooper. It was what Imperial Academies did. It didn't matter if you were the best and brightest or the son of Shri-Tal refugees wearing hand-me-downs from a clothing drive, the end result was the same. The Academy for Young Imperials was just a polite way of masking the fact that it was churning out child soldiers in order to prepare for a future fighting the Sith.

Except, Cai had been discovered as a Force Sensitive. And that meant that he'd been transferred to the Imperial Force Corps, where he'd yet to find anything resembling a classroom or even a school for that matter. Instead, it seemed that the Imperial Knights lived by the adage that experience was the best teacher. His academic course work was all distance education, turning in assignments while tending to whatever practical applications or philosophical debates that Marshal Zovesa might have for him.

He was a squire. It was an antiquated concept, so they'd had to explain it to him. Basically, he was the marshal's assistant. He came when she called. He did what she said. Most of it was taking care of her armor and equipment. Which, in these conditions was a queen of a Hutt. All the while, he had class papers and other projects that were waiting for him when they got back to the fleet.

In a way, the busy work attending to the trivial matters on behalf of the marshal was a blessing. It gave the boy focus in which to become comfortably numb to the ravages of war unfolding around him. The sounds of the bombs bursting in mid-air, the tremors triggered by the explosive forces battering the mesas at all hours. The cold that seeped into the bones.

"Aurek?"

What, was this the word of the gorram day or some chit like that?

Of course, it was code. Everything was code. No, he didn't have them all memorized, but he got the gist. Or so he thought. Based on how everyone was suiting up and arming it, it seemed to be the word for attack. A, Aurek. A, Attack? Something like that.

The young Atrisian held the blaster carbine at the ready. He wore his Imperial Academy uniform, with the strange addition of the Imperial Knight lightsaber. He still had no idea what he was doing with that. The blaster on the other hand? Much simpler concept to grasp.

...or, it would be, if he could see anything. With the frigid temperates and arctic conditions, he'd been practically living in his clothes -- to include the helmet. But, in these conditions, the visual read-outs were practically worthless. He was barely picking up the people right in front of him.

Marshal Zovesa's voice came over the com-link. At least that still worked. The tracking systems pinged on her located, highlighting an area that was off to his left. But for the IFF identification through the helmet's HUD, there was nothing about the vaguely humanoid shadow that Cai could just faintly make out in that spot that would have caused to believe that was the marshal. Moving through this was going to be as much guesswork as anything else.

Side note: What the Hutt did may the Force be with you even kriffing mean?

Remember you are Knights. You protect the men and lead the charge.

Cai wasn't a knight. He wasn't even a knight errant. He was a page. As such, he was relegated to safeguarding the Asklepion medics that supported the formation. He was also wearing a backpack with communications gear, which would hopefully keep them in sync with the forces that were arriving as part of the push against the Sith Empire.

At least that much was nice.

As a native of Shri-Tal, Cai had spent his entire life running from the Sith Empire. Even if it was a frozen hell, there was some satisfaction to be had for the idea that they were there to push the Sith back.

Lunafreya Solidor · May 19, 2020

LOCATION: Mygeeto.
ENEMIES:

Telis Taharin-Zambrano , The Sith Empire.
ALLIES:

Vaulkhar ,

Marlon Sularen ,

Tyrell Paxxus , NIO.
OBJECTIVE: Battle of the Bloody Aurora.

When she and her squad were invited to attend that event, up to two nights prior to her arrival in Mygeeto, she continued to believe faithfully that she would be taken for something similar to a romantic date. When the messenger informed her to prepare for battle, she was unable to control herself. She raised the pistol from the holster at his waist and fired once, hitting that small space between the poor droid's mechanical eyebrows. Lunafreya didn't bother to fight, but should fiancés have more interest in their betrothed than just unnecessary bloodbaths perhaps? She refused to answer any calls from it until she was in orbit around the planet and was informed of the small "gift" left for her in orbit almost signed ‘From your beloved Vaulkhar' on its metal side.

Some would say that the princess was made to be in charge, of absolutely anything. She was bossy, demanding, arrogant and had little patience for anything she could define as a 'waste of time'. She named the Praefect-class Star Destroyer as ‘Engaged’ and ordered the name to be changed immediately and passed on through the chain of command. 'And who said that Siths don't know how to win a girl?', She thought as she walked dressed in her combat armor towards the bridge; accompanied by Kapri and Marah, the vornskr couple that elzeri took with her wherever she went. Her countenance curved in a frown when she saw the heavy doors that led to the control room, almost immediately realizing that a relationship involved something similar to ‘giving and receiving 'and now she needed to think of something to give in return to the male who had everything he could wish for, nibbling on the leather-covered thumb of her dark glove. ‘Damn be his bones... he gave me a metal trap...’

She remained nibbling on her thumb until after she had passed through the heavy doors of the control room, a common gesture she made when she was mulling over something. Elzeri only stopped with the old habit when the doors closed behind her and her pets, but even so Lunafreya did not even dignify those present with a simple, polite nod of her head to any of those present, she went straight to the command chair, even when they all rose in greeting to the princess. His mind was occupied with other things at that moment, even with Mygeeto outside the control room glass glowing with thousands of space fires.

'How did I not see that? Had it been any other time, I would have smelled it parsecs at a distance.’ She felt her jaw tighten like a nexus around the soft flesh of prey. The sharp upper teeth rubbing against the lower ones in an irritated old habit. 'Relationships are that. You give something here and you receive something there, you idiot. But what am I going to give him?’ She had no idea, ‘He already has me… what more could he ever want?’

The princess only came to herself when she heard the growls of her faithful Vornskr, each lying on one side of her chair. Along with the animals she turned to the cause of her irritation, noting the squalid presence of an unfortunate human creature dressed in those tasteless uniforms that those imperials wore, whose colors without grace were already able to tell her who they were and how much they were worth it.
“I am the captain in command of the Engaged, my lady, my name is Lothor Macduff. It will be my greatest pleasure to escort your landlady while we take Mygeeto.”
Solidor dismissed the captain's words with a disinterested gesture of his gloved hand. The lips moved fast in an audible tone that made the entire bridge silent.
“Open a transmission with Lord Vaulkhar immediately." All those present turned to face the princess, but it was the captain who answered Lunafreya.
"My lady, the Lord Executor is currently very busy in Mygeeto and it must not be ..." he did not speak afterwards, not when she turned to face the man with his sharp violet eyes. They seared with a yellowish glow for a brief moment as Lothor struggled to get his breath, slowly falling to his knees beside him.
“I said to open a channel with him now." And the captain, still panting but with determination that he would make the biggest worm be impressed, tried to gasp by the lips.
“No, wait... we can’t ... he ... doesn’t… with us ... but ..." And Lunafreya leaned over to hear him.
"But?"
"Message ... we can send..." She frowned with perfectly trimmed eyebrows, her lips curved in a thoughtful gesture and looking out the Engaged window, Lunafreya Solidor finally got the answer she was looking for. She rose quickly from the chair, almost jumping out of it, supporting the sharp end of her heel on the captain's back and finally letting him breathe.
"Operative, send a message to Lord Vaulkhar."
The captain, lying on the ground, nodded to the officers present to do as she was told.
“MESSAGE: To my beloved and dear Vaulkhar, I am satisfied with the ship that was given to me as a devotion of your love. I miss feeling the touch of your skin against the back of my hand as I once did in Iridonia, so I find myself in due obligation to give you something at the same proportion and in your honor I will paint the dark void above Mygeeto in a vibrant crimson color from the blood of your enemies. With affection, your princess. ”
And from the bottom of her shoe, she heard the captain gasping and murmuring.
"Submit?"
"Submit." She said satisfied with that. Allowing your lips to curve to form a small smile, something so sincere and fleeting that it barely had time to be appreciated. The princess launched herself directly against the command chair again, her face wrapped in an austere expression, roaring with the harsh commanding voice she carried along with her name.
"Prepare for battle." She turned her head stiffly to the left until she heard her neck snap. "Let’s destroy everything in our path."

Invasion Schism's Dawn // NIO invasion of TSE controlled Mygeeto and Muunilinst

Eternal Father

The Forgotten One

S H A D O W

FN-999

Guest

Brazen Soul

Protector

Melia Siari

Guest

Nothing Given

A Light Shining in Darkness

Bookworm

Be Careful

Disciple of Animus

Amur

Guest

The Redeemed

Imperial Turncoat

Overwatch

B E A C O N

Artificial Intelligence

Sor-Jan Xantha

Guest

She of Many Names

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