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From the bitter heart of the storm, Lark watched as his wicked creatures did what was most natural to them. Soldiers were left in pieces if they were lucky, devoured if their predator was a bit ravished after such a fruitful hunt. The chill around him only seemed to grow as another ritual was performed, he wasn't sure how many more he'd be able to handle. The Warghests were doing their job well, but as they spread out he found it more difficult to keep up with all of their movements and focus on summoning at the same time. Perhaps it would be best to-
Oh?
A handful of beasts had fallen, and not terribly far from where he was located. He had only witnessed a brief moment before the beast's passing, a quick blur of blaster fire and confused writhing as the wolf crashed onto the barren ground. And one by one, the rest of that pack fell. Their hunt was but a fleeting moment of joy, but for one wondrous day the pack could hunt together as one. They were quickly buried underneath the soft touch of the snow, quickly forgotten.
For such an inglorious fate, Lark couldn't help but see beauty in it.
One of the soldiers who survived the ambush was peculiar, and seemed more keen to the fact that something was very wrong nearby. Lark smiled gently, and closed his Necronomicon, chaining it to his hip. But the book's power was still in effect, and the tempest of frost only seemed to grow more torrential. But Lark felt as peaceful as the storm did frenzied. And that overwhelming, almost nauseating sensation of tender sadness emanated from him, the source of the infernal beasts. As much as the blizzard attempted to drive the soldier away, Lark's own aura kindly beckoned him forward.
Elsewhere, the remaining packs of Warghests would continue as they were. Targeting NIO troops, then vanishing into the mist until they themselves discovered what it was like to be one's quarry. But for the moment, Lark knew he wouldn't be summoning anymore. Patient and silent, he awaited the arrival of the soldier shrouded in snow.
You need not worry, the storm won't hurt you. Lark sent a telepathic message to the soldier, tone courteous and soft-spoken. I'm nearby, come and find me.
Harnaidan, Muunilist OBJ: Wear them down Weapon Armour
Allies: TSE Enemies: NIO
The AT-SB continued to lumber down the streetas Maiven formulated a plan. The monstrous walker was well defended by the buildings on either side of it, meaning Maiven would have to get down to street level to even target its weak points. She carried on her two thermal detonators for a situation like this, but they wouldn't damage the vehicle. From the angle she was viewing the walker from she could see an escort of a dozen stormtroopers surrounding it, but they appeared too spread apart for a grenade to take them all out. At this point it was impossible to know if the walker was carrying more soldiers inside. Even if it wasn't, her 10-man squad had the disadvantage.
She eased herself off the buildings ledge and back onto the roof. She regretted not bringing her sniper. If her squad split into two fire teams and surrounded the walker they potentially had a chance, given that this walker wasn't full of more stormtroopers.
Two teams of five, each armed with a single thermal detonator, made their ways down to the streets. Maiven led her team down the elevator of the building the were on, while the other team hopped from building to building so they could come out in front of the walker. It was a risky move. If they came out to far ahead of the walker, its forward cannons could simply smite them off the face of the planet.
Stepping out of the elevator and into the building lobby, she found it wasn't very different from all the other office building lobbies she'd had to enter over the last few days. At least this one hadn't been bombed to shit yet. She waited at the entrance for the forward fire team to signal. Within 2 minutes it came, and the Chiss soldiers rushed into the street to surround the walker. She could almost immediately hear the surprised stormtroopers call for back-up.
A number of stormtroopers went down with ease to the Chiss maser rifles. After the initial volleys, the Chiss retreated into nearby alcoves of the buildings while the stormtroopers took cover behind the legs of the walker. The walker stopped its advance, presumably on the orders of the ground forces.
A single trooper caught Maiven's attention when her maser bolt failed to knock him off his feet. He was a much bigger soldier than the others and he wielded no blaster. Instead, in retaliation to Maiven's attack, he activated a large stun baton. The stormtrooper's physical presence as he barrelled toward Maiven's team made them instinctively move aside and find cover. The man hit Maiven like a truck, taking both of them down. She held the man's baton away from her with her rifle, but she wouldn't be able to hold on long. A deep, raspy voice came out of the helmet: "We've heard of you, Blue queen. Nice of you to finally show. Shame my squad won't be another one of your casualties!"
She struggled under the soldier's weight and her helmet's HUD went haywire as the baton's electricity touched it. With her right hand she let go of her rifle, causing her assailant to bash both the rifle and his baton into her helmet, producing a large crack. With her newly freed hand she grabbed her only other weapon, her vibroknife. She drew the blade, ignited it, and then plunged into the leg of the storm trooper. It was enough to get him off her. In her window of opportunity as the man kneeled on the ground, crying in pain, she pulled off her now useless helmet and struck the downed solider with it. Both helmets broke open and shards flew on contact. The soldier clutched the open head injury Maiven had just inflicted and swore in a language she didn't recognize. Returning to Basic, he looked up at Maiven weakly. He shuddered and gurgled as he spoke, "Yuh.. you'll never break us.. We.. already won.." after those final words the man collapsed.
In the time of brief duel she had, more stormtroopers had quickly descended from the walker. Winded, bruised, and very dazed, Maiven didn't clue into the situation until a squad mate pulled her into an alley as the enemy pushed back. The man sat her down against the wall.
"Lieutenant! Are you okay?" "I didn't order a retreat! What's going on Corporal?" she replied bitterly to her saviour. "No choice Lieutenant, there's too many of them, and I think you're wounded." "I'm fine, where's the sergeant? Did she make it out?" "She's fine ma'am, but they lost two. The rest our fire team's already run to regroup, we should follow."
The corporal helped her up, and she brushed her hair away from her eyes. As the corporal yanked her arm, pain flaired up from where the stormtrooper had twisted it. It was only minor, but it would be an inconvenience for a bit.
"Fire team two picked up some interesting comms from inside the walker. It was brief, but the sergeant said there's a downed drop ship not far from here." "Perfect. If we reach them soon we can take them out before they can group up with this walker. Lead the way."
Dansk nodded as Tithe directed his attention to various status readouts. The ongoing storm inhibited many feeds but it was clear enough. The self-titled 'New' Imperial Order had finally come. The timing had been uncanny on their part.
He supposed that they'd measured when there would be a storm of this magnitude. It helped to obscure their entry into Mygeeto. And it also hampered local surveilance. That it hindered movement to some degree was secondary.
"They timed their attack well here," he remarked to the Moff quietly "The wind and snow hardly matter when they almost dropped-in on our heads."
The Muun kept his voice low enough where only the human beside him would hear. It wouldn't do to demoralize the Empire's rank and file. Underlings that they were, they'd were necessary.
He also saw certain reports from Muunilinst itself. They were attacking his homeworld. Yet he felt no special attachment to Harnaidan and the surrounding municipalities. Efforts to rebuild would be quick and efficient in the Muun way.
Besides, he'd left that life behind. Much as they'd have left him behind had he ever put one foot wrong. Muun society had little affection for past glories. Current results were what mattered.
Then a premonition of danger struck him. It came upon him and his eyes left the screens. He looked around him and he knew it came from above. A Forceful presence strong in the Dark Side.
His eyes remained raised as he addressed Tithe quietly once again.
"Someone is trying to break into the vaults. A being strong in the Dark Side."
Dansk turned his gaze back to the human. By then his frown had returned.
"I'll have to deal with this being personally. Our soldiers wouldn't be enough alone. But ready them, and dispatch those you're able to above."
He felt no great affection for the human but he knew him to be very capable. Useful for the cause of the Empire. So he warned him.
"Ready your sidearm, Moff Tithe. I sense you'll be needing it shortly."
With that, he turned and made his way out of the command center and back into the tunnels....
Location: Mygeeto\\
Objective: Traverse the Bridges and Capture Mesas Tower B\\Find and Remove who's controlling the Sith Spawn
Allies: NIO Forces, Imperial Force Corps, Imperial Warlord Zovesa
Enemies: Lark
Gear: In bio
Law and his squad Lt. Ell, Sgt Tonk, troopers Olw, Berx, Mern were positioned behind a piece of fallen ship. Flaming chunks of steel and warrior had been raining onto the bridges and the surrounding towers for a while now adding a splash of red to the torrent of white. He had lived most of his youth on a ship yet he had no clue as to what was going on up there. Flying was something he was dreadful at and in his time in void borne fights was generally sectioned off to repelling boarders, but he had some notion that this wasn't how it was supposed to go. Sgt Tonk was redressing the quick patch on trooper Olw's arm for more long term stabilization. Law slapped a new charge into his Thunderwasp and nodded to the others to get moving.
The storm was utterly blinding, save for the hate being thrown from each side back and forth. Law couldn't see a thing. They stumbled across bodies from both sides as the group crossed No Man's Land but whether they were from the ground forces or sky bound ones there was no way of telling. Part of him wanted to go back, rally with the Marshal and the rest of his platoon for they were sure to have better organization and would at least know they were pushing in the right direction. But Law trusted his Lt and he knew that he had to get to the source of those sith spawn (Lark
), the thing in the force he was sensing was getting stronger. Is it getting more powerful or am I getting closer? Whatever it was Law was sure that it was a Knight's job.
A higher density of rouge blaster fire started to claim the air around the group and Lt. Ell called for them to get lower. The six started to move in that direction, sure to find fighting. When the storm deigned to take a breath between its howls Law's group saw two NIO troopers just a dozen meters ahead. They were surrounded by their dead colleges and firing over makeshift cover. The lieutenant waved the attack hand motion and his group charged to the besieged troopers aid. Law of course reached the soldiers first, force enhanced speed spitting out an oof when he collided with the rubble made cover.
As Law pointed his rifle down range and started firing off shots, he still needed to work on his aim but sometimes he hit something, he switched to the open channel on his comms. “Which one of you's in charge?!” He was yelling which was unnecessary over comms but natural in the roaring storm and booming battle.
The two shared a brief glance before one replied. “Neither sir, were both green. Anyone with a clue to what's going on are KIA.” Their voices was also loud so Law didn't feel as bad about his volume.
“Alright lets clean this up then you two follow me.” Law replied, none of the trio faltering in their continued barrage throughout the brief conversation.
Once the rest of his crew joined them it was only another minuet or two before their green bolts no longer danced with opposing red ones. Law wasn't even sure if they had killed or routed the enemy as the stormed resumed it's beat down on morale and flesh. He went to reload his weapon while reaching out with the source trying to further hone in on his target but found himself out. Have to make sure I start packing more cartridges. Then Law felt what could very well be the most terrifying thing he had ever experienced.
You need not worry, the storm won't hurt you.I'm nearby, come and find me. Spoken directly into the Knight's mind and somehow worse in the manner that someone would invite you to dinner. The mind voice's owner was the same entity in the force he had been chasing he could tell, the sensation of looking at two sentences an being able to tell the same author.
“I got him, let's go.” He needent explain who he was, Law was a Knight and that alone should be able to tell the others what their target was.
With the force connection opened into Law's mind finding the source was much easier even for someone as inept in the force as he. They continued down the bridge passing two dead sith stormtroopers which confirmed they had at least killed some in their previous engagement, as the bodies had yet to be buried fully. His mind compass started to point to the left from the generally straight path the group was following and twenty meters further Law found a bridge branching off from the one they traveled along. Law and Lt. Ell were in the lead, Sgt Tonk had the middle, and the remaining troopers the rear as the group just started down the side bridge. But they made it not ten feet before two awful events collided. First the interruption of blaster fire behind them and trooper Olw declaring Berx dead over comm, the three in the rear scattering for cover one of the greens even dropping flat and using Berx's body as a makeshift sandbag. The second was a descending piece of thruster. The music of the storm shifted to a more base tone a half moment before it impact, Law and the lieutenant lept forward and smashed into the bridge ice as the bridge did it's best impression of an earthquake. When the two leaders looked back a five meter gap had formed between the section of the bridge they were on and the main portion and in an ever worsening situation Sgt Tonk was gone claimed by gravity, steel, and stone.
“This is it. Remember you are Knights. You protect the men and lead the charge. Do not falter. Have no fear. May the Force be with you all.” Imperial Warlord Zovesa
's voice whispered into his mind
Law handed Lt. Ell his weapon. “The weight will just slow me down and it's pretty much empty anyway. Get back to the others, let command know I'll be taking care of whoever's controlling the sith spawn.” He paused. “And sorry I'm still not too good at this.” Law grabbed hold of the lieutenant's body with the force and with all of his strength tossed the trooper across the gap. She not only recovered mid-air to her new situation but when she landed the Lt immediately committed to her new orders, rallying the troopers and moving off to more defensible terrain. It was women like her that drove Law to fight the Sith Empire, men and women of skill and demeanor that deserved to be deified, not just those born with a force affinity.
There was no time to watch how their battle played out though, Law turned and continued down his path. He still had his feverwasp but that was not the weapon for his upcoming bout. Hiss, blue light radiating off of his now exposed lightsaber. No for what was ahead called for a Knight's weapon. And they were close.
To Belisarius's correspondence Tavlar could only assume a drop on schedule, giving a reply in characteristic stoicness, an ever familiar tone from the battlefield commander to any who'd been on the receiving end of his comms.
<"Understood, Hellhound. Relay back on landing."> Irveric stated outright before he closed the channel.
Descending. The effort of the New Imperials did not grow any less dogged the more they choked down unto the main cityscape of Harnaidan. Moving in tow with a platoon of infantry clad in the white and fieldgrey accompanying the colors of the 'Punished Legion'. With a hand signal and rippling command from the Lord Imperator they formed up to form an isolated pocket of order in the midst of the chaos that overtook the outskirts of the city.
[Imperator, this is Lieutenant Nines of the 426th.]
[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.]
A wild card play by the Stormtrooper Leftenant but even still - a prio target knocked out was worth the disarray. With a platoon added to his frontline retinue, Tavlar patched through.
<"Acknowledged-."> He said outright, turning to one of his command squad.
<"Patch through to the platoon Commander ; he has control of the 426th-- send them our way once they've paved the way for Feral Company."> Tavlar commanded with a wave of a flat hand.
<"I need eyes."> Tavlar ordered out to the nearest operative from his command squad as the surrounding Novatroopers accompanying the Lord Imperator all set themselves into the footprint of a bombed out building. By no means a reliable forward command post it didn't need to be for very long.
Crouching down behind a wall of durasteel backed marble a holoprojector was set down on the floor which switched on to reveal a holomap overview of the city.
<"Jedi Shadow , 'Safety' (Allyson Locke
) got us good visibility -- we've got everything in plain view."> The officer sounded out as he slung the SE-61 Carbine over his shoulder.
<"Credit where its due. We need a breakthrough -- we're bleeding ourselves dry."> Peering over the view of the map each and every descending transport sported its designation - lighting up in the bottom left corner of his HUD they listed out with a blue or red band displaying the information. Blue they were up, red they were down. As soon as he looked the way of it the RDAG holding Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt
went dark. He steeled his resolve for a moment, his silence in contemplation fading into a silence wrought in dread. Calcifying his emotions his once more he snapped to reality, moving a hand out in a fist before he slowly spread his fingers to gain a tighter view of the current lines.
The Storm had made ground but they had a proverbial wall to scale if they were going win out. Victory had to be willed into the hands of the Order.
<"Where's our cavalry?"> Tavlar uttered, panning the map to pull the speeder bike formation headed by Ryv
and Lucien Dooku
into view. They'd arrived.
<"Patch through to Paragon."> With that he relayed the Kiffar Jedi. It was an ominous binding of fates that found them sharing the field. The Sword Of The Jedi wise beyond his years, The Lord Imperator could recall in this moment when Karis seemed to foretell this alliance all the while he had no reason to regard Irveric as little more than a monster, a rotting cog in a despicable machine. What the Jedi said instead made his presence on the field alongside Tavlar's Imperial brethren make this moment isolated within the weave of fate in the Galaxy all the more meaningful.
"You know what, general, I believe there is hope for everyone in the galaxy. Ideals may clash, but there can be peace. Perhaps there is hope for you. Someone so experienced and skilled might yet find a place out in the galaxy, not under the heel of Carnifex and his following. But uh, what do I know? I'm just a kid."
Words that didn't die so easy in Tavlar's subconscious, even if the wilting Jedi Padawan the sentiment came from was wholly underwhelming, just as Irveric thought of another Jedi he'd encountered, Ryv Karis was a name of destiny, someone who would see the Galaxy reshaped for better or worse. So it seemed, Tavlar would be another vessel of undoing evil as he saw it.
<"Karis. I need your speeders to push through the salient we've flexed in their lines, bare north-north west. Break them."> Tavlar ordered outright, a far cry from the man who'd reviled the Jedi for so indiscriminately slaughtering his own host when he was Sith General. His patience had worn to nothing, those who would be fearless enough to rise and reclaim the Empire had already joined him. Whoever were left were either lost or too afraid. His innate protectiveness for these troopers had been crucified in favor of the drive. Everything was staked on this battle, he'd consolidate within himself whatever he had to do to get past this in victory. Until then, what mattered wasn't the means by the results.
<"We can't pull all their attention there- Noma-"> As soon as Irveric sought to sound out the callsign of his long time confidant in Konrad Bolter
one of his subordinates interrupted him. His gaze shifting toward the man similarly clad in New Imperial off-white, the Major spoke up.
<"Sir, Nomad Actual's jammed- his lifeform scanner is still lighting up but we can't bridge comms.">
<"Understood..."> So went down the chain of command.
<"Feral Actual- take up a composite kiel formation and push through the gap cut through by FN-999 I'll see about pulling a company of infantry to assist in the push but I need breakthroughs."> Tavlar ordered outright, signalling for Sturit to take up a formation which layered the tanks into several wedges to cover supporting infantry dictate opposing target priority. Before Tavlar could mutter another breath, a turbolaser round shattered the earth near the building, caking the assembled command unit in urban dust and ash as Irveric was jostled, settling a hand on the ground to keep on his kneeling position before another shrieked through the air and slammed into the nearby wall of the makeshift command post.
This blast sent the Imperator flat unto his back with a low crack and grunt from the impact, his armor wholly sustaining the blow as he slowly came to terms with his position again. All the while the distorted communication attempts from Belisarius
fell on deaf ears.
<"Sir!">
<"We're fine..."> Tavlar sounded out, appraising the condition of his assembled retinue. One Novatrooper was sent aback from the blow, the charred red flesh exposed from under the ebon armor plating hitting open air with a stinging pain only for it to be subdued with an automatic bacta injection from the armor's underlayer. A grievious sight but there'd be more of them if Tavlar couldn't maintain cohesion among the ranks. Electing to leave the man to be handled by the medics - his eye forsook the man in favor of the holo map. Flickering and faltering, it was still operable.
Hellhound Two Actual was loud on the comms again to follow up with the failed communication. Somehow his transmission was even less reassuring than the first.
With no artillery to give - Tavlar's first instinct raked down to the squadron listing at the bottom left of his HUD. Planetside, he elected to put his bets on Kardev Byrric
, 'Meathook' and the special ops Darkstar Squadron.
<"Copy, Hellhound. My guns are on the move to range in, air support enroute."> Tavlar ordered out - ever collected in the throes of chaos. Shifting his attention toward one of his comms officers he spoke out once more.
<"Major, patch through the mission and get them the nine-line on the Blackblades encroaching Hellhound."> Tavlar instructed with a point of his index and middle finger toward the man. The strike was ordered.
<"Lord Imperator - the 426th have consolidated under your command."> The Platoon Commander sounded out, indicated by the white shoulder pauldron fixed to his shoulder. Forsaking a salute in the fray of battle, the man clutched his SE-61 instead.
<"Affirmitive. We're enroute to press the advantage with Hellhound. On me."> Irveric said - the stormtroopers rising up from their shattered reprieve of cover to fall in line with traversing the shattered urban landscape. Moving wearily, cover to cover with a look down the sights toward every next stretch before they would move up again.
Inspite of any hard lock he'd seized around his emotions. Sharing the field with Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt
again, he had to make due on his sentiment that she would make it out. Something he'd made clear several times over. He would see to it that she made it home. Even if he'd isolated himself from her emotionally -- he was a man duty bound. Even still, his Stormtroopers needed him.
Ash. The fires of the New Imperial sieging armaments had made it an intolerable phenomena in the air about them, soothing down from the toppled towers and skyscrapers like the corpse of snow. The pale white of the Storm armor had soon worn grey and covered with the substance -- only serving to blend them into the surroundings of devastation. Admists the salt, ash and smoke of the toppled marble debris in Harnaidan, Tavlar had reprieve from the burden of command for what felt like an uncomfortable duration, his comms silent as the various limbs of the New Imperial assault undertook their missions.
He was in the city proper now and with the transition the eerie silence broke in the air with a loud crack in the air of rapid fire blaster cannons peppering the rubble and marble ruins enveloping the 426th as they sought cover. Many were quick to conceal their profile and take up arms in returning fire, others were killed outright but even so it was not a worse fate than those hit astray and abandoned in the crossfire, the screams of mortal agony threatening to drown out the exchange of blaster fire from the second story of the front facing building.
<"Second floor - third window from the right!">Hadrian Javik barked out as a heavy trooper let off a heavy breath before propping his Heavy Repeater on the half-wall of rubble infront of him. The isolated blaster cannon was soon accompanied by more of the Sith Troopers -- springing an ambush on the platoon. Now given a target rich environment, the heavy trooper pressed the palm of his hand down on the top of the repeater's reciever before he squeezed the trigger in anger to send an intense volley of particle beams down range, many of them making purchase on the Sith Troopers only within earshot of the Eight.
<"The traitor! He's here!"> One of the Sith Legionnaires barked out at the sight of the narrow T-visor in Tavlar's helmet. The unique make unmistakable as the treasonous Lord General.
Planting his battle rifle into his left shoulder he peeled around the corner of the base level to a bombed out building foot print, sending a burst of three bolts down range to send the very Legionnaire rigid and limp to his death - the smell of charred flesh and synthetic material past his duraplast armor fresh in the air surrounding the Sith Troopers after the Imperator's own kill.
If Cara Dorniarn
wanted to snatch her mark, now was the time.
<<"We've got new information coming in. Map of the city. Out.">>
Sturit blinked under his helmet and opened up the dispatch. A map of the city... well, that'd be vital. With a hole punched in the Sith line and the infantry running cleanup, he had a moment to breathe and think. He stared at the hologram, getting the gist of the city's layout before zeroing in on his own position. They were at the base of a short street that ended in a T-section. The Muuns built their streets in an organized manner. The city was centered around the capital building; the four main roads in each of the cardinal directions leading towards the center. The rest of the roads were straight and led easily enough towards the main streets.
Another set of orders came through from the Imperator. Without missing a beat Sturit pressed the button on his control panel to communicate with Imperator Tavlar. <<"Solid copy, Enigma. Taking this road to the intersection ahead. We'll then move to link up with our droptroopers closer to the center. Over.">> Of course, he proposed it like a question -- if the Imperator had other orders, Sturit would be quick to carry them out.
Still, he'd been given instructions for now. Captain Goan had gotten into the rhythm of this engagement, and as soon as his finger was off the transmission he flipped to his company's line. <<"Feral Actual to Feral Company. New orders. Composite keil. Break.">> He paused for a moment, shortening the transmission before continuing. <<"Feral One-One, Two-One, Three-One, up front, first keil. Four-One, One-Two, Two-Two, second keil; Three-Two, Four-Two, One-Three, third keil. Break.">> Again, a pause. <<"Command unit is next, tanks on the side and support vehicles center. Two-Three, Three-Three, Four-Three are fourth keil, bringing up the rear. Over.">> The "solid copy" from each of the platoon leaders came through loud and clear. <<"If we end up bringing in some infantry, they'll be in between our keils. Don't run anyone over. Out.">> Sturit ended the transmission and shifted in his chair, turning to the driver. <<"Driver, start.">>
The company got into position quickly enough. The street was wide enough for four Cataphracts side by side, but being too close to the neighboring buildings wasn't a good idea in urban warfare. Sturit might've just been a little paranoid about IEDs, even though the chance of one being there was reasonably low.
With the Cataphracts in formation, Sturit gave the go-ahead, and the four and a half keils began to advance down the street. It wasn't a hundred meters before the next bit of resistance cropped up; heavy repeaters opened up on the convoy from vantage points in the nearby buildings, but the shielding of the New Imperial tanks was too thick. All he needed to say was <<"Gunner, full, building,">> and a half-dozen red belches of plasma reduced the building to rubble. As it was, the artillery closer to the center was too close, and the targets in the streets too tight with friendlies for the armor unit to be targeted. Sturit felt safe in this durasteel shell of his -- an RPG rocked the side of the tank, only for the Cataphract to return fire a thousandfold.
They approached the end of the road, and Sturit opened the comms up again. <<"Feral Company, this is Feral Actual. Slow it down. First keil, second keil, tighten up and go side by side, I want you to turn the corners at the same time. Over.">> His orders were carried out, but he kept the platoon from advancing for a moment as he checked in with his superior.
<<"Enigma, this is Feral Actual. Major emplacements have been cleared, we're about to turn the cor-">> Then it started to go to crap.
At the end of the street, Sith troopers turned the corner, practically crashing into the nearby buildings like a wave. It was a swarm -- they moved fanatically, screaming as if their Sith masters' whips were at their backs. No, that wasn't an apt description... like they'd just received a rousing speech from their commander. He didn't have time to give orders; the enemy was closing fast. The front keils opened up with their laser cannons and main guns, vaporizing entire squads of the troopers, but they kept coming.
<<"Sir, requesting infantry support, we're about to get swamped by Sith troopers. Over.">> Even in the heat of the moment, radio etiquette wouldn't escape him.
Sturit switched back to his company's comms. <<"Feral Actual to Feral Company. Pull back. Third and fourth keils, fire support with main guns, full power, no targets, just fire. First and second, give it everything you got. Pull up on your repulsors, don't let 'em stick you. Out.">> Close-range fighting was exactly what Sturit had wanted to avoid; it wouldn't be good to be stuck in a metal coffin while hostiles crawled all over him. Hopefully they could pull back fast enough, but those Sith troopers were closing on the front keils fast...
The blade, crimson and burning, shot out at Wyatt with an intensity he had not seen in years; a true marker of a Sith, drowning in anger, finding all the power he could in passion alone. Were it not for the recognition of his form, the key subtleties of a master, Wyatt would have assumed the man no more than a rabid dog with what he expressed - but Wyatt’s eyes were trained to see a killer, and before him stood one he could not underestimate.
Blue met red in a flash as Wyatt caught the blade - narrowly letting it singe a few of his hairs. A dip of his weight and he was under the blade - under the arm of his attacker; with a quick twist of his body, he let the blade move from the bind of the saber, to the armpit of the Sith Lord - hoping to cut his blade arm from him in a single, consecutive movement. Turning to face Carnifex, he let out a slow, careful breath as he brought his blade back before himself.
“Your empire falters, Carnifex.”, Wyatt said with that deathly cold expression.
“For all the power you held, you grew arrogant - managed your realm on nepotism and ego; and look where your hubris has brought you…”, the Jedi acknowledged with a quiet smirk.
“To me.”
His blade jutted out, and much in the same way Carnifex had struck at him, Wyatt did the same - though their size difference was notable, the Grandmaster took care to keep their distance as close as possible, negating the reach Carnifex had in favor of Wyatt’s speed - a stark difference at their range. Blade hit blade in heavy flashes before Wyatt’s bind allowed him to swing directly at Carnifex’s knee - though with a careful movement planned in it.
With grace, Wyatt angled himself to ensure that the arrows Allyson would shoot would come towards the Sith Emperor’s back - giving him minimal chances to stop the energy bolts before they’d hit. While Wyatt may have been able to hold the Emperor by himself, without utilizing something like Vaapaad, there was little chance he had of beating the Sith Lord; which left the single hope of cooperation to end the Dark Lord’s life, once and for all.
Through telepathy, Allyson would hear Wyatt’s voice -
“Please, be careful. Be the Jedi you know you can be.”
Caide glances to Cara Dorniarn
for a split second, his green eye burning with barely controlled violence and cold logic as her shield stops the blaster shots, like that of a predator. Precise, calculating, destructive. He nods.
"If you will give me 65, I will finish this and join you."
He turns towards FN-999 , And his eye blazes as he pulls a commando knife from a corpse's chest.
"You're just like all the rest. Look around you, all the dead and burned corpses, the twisted steel and blood soaked stone. that is your 'progress'. I am your death kid. I hope you think this was worth it."
He knows what he said alone could be considered teason, but he couldn't stop himself. What he had done on Mandalore still weighed heavily upon his conscience. Without another word he bolts forward, bringing the knife down in a wide arc before tightening the angle at the last second, changing it from a sloppy, telegraphed overhead stab to the claw of a panther aimed at the soldier's vulnerable jugular in a split second...
The siege had been going on for a while, and despite that the Sith Valkyries had been given specific orders to remain at their fortress. It was a frustrating situation for all those that wanted to fight. The Valkyries had been on Mygeeto for roughly eight or nine years at this point, having formed during the Sith Empire’s early years. Now there was an enemy besieging their home planet, daring to use it as a staging ground to dig deeper into Sith Space.
But orders were orders, and they had remained at their base until they were finally given the order.
The sizable force had already been prepared earlier that day, intel reporting the NIO’s efforts were sharply increasing, indicating a potential heavy push. Aerarii Tithe
had relayed the order to go airborne and wait for further instructions on where to hit.
Given that they could navigate the storms, the Valkyries were not going to be part of the later reinforcements. While it probably would’ve been a good idea to join the two forces, it was decided they would be a surgical strike right in the midst of the Cyclone.
Vaylin was at the end of the hangar, back facing the wide blast doors as she sat atop her towering Sithspawn mount; her Kakdijs Zuta. Before her was the assembled Valkyrie force, a mix of their ranks of Battle Sisters, Shield Maidens, Valkyries and Banshees. All were accompanied by various winged creatures, native to Mygeeto, tamed and bred over the years as the group adapted to the icy weather and constant storms.
“We knew this day would come.” The Zabrak’s voice boomed across the silent hangar. “Mygeeto has been our home ever since the Founders chose this place. Always on the outskirts of the Empire, waiting for someone to dare attack us.”
“And now a new enemy is at our doorstep, bolstered by traitors that dared to turn against our Empire. No doubt whispering secrets into their ears, things they should’ve taken to their graves instead. May the Netherworld take them, and never let go.”
“Hear me, my Sisters. Today marks a day in which the Valkyries ride out to meet the enemy directly. Never has our group assembled in such numbers for a single battle. And is there no better day than this? The enemy is here, attacking our home! I say we go and kick them back off our planet. For the Empire!”
A chorus of shouts and cheers filled the hangar, damn near drowning out the large blast doors as they began to open up. Vaylin tugged on her mount’s reins, turning it to face the entrance. The wider it got, the louder the raging storm outside became. The Valkyrie Fortress was shielded, stopping the icy weather from getting too close. But the hangars were located relatively close to said shield, and thus the storm was churning right outside.
Vaylin urged her beast forwards, leading the charge as it stomped across metal until it passed through the shielding and into the storm itself. One after another, the Valkyrie forces followed as they disappeared and headed out.
Now...
They had already flown miles, the distance between the Valkyrie Fortress and the Southern Mesas was significant. But the Valkyries were prepared, years of living on this planet had forced them to adapt to the severe conditions.
After breaking from the storm that concealed their fortress, the Valkyrie forces had soared across clear skies, dipping into smaller storms along the way to conceal their approach. The Frost Cyclone that had swamped the Southern Mesa had caused pockets of severe weather to crop up around its outskirts.
There was a clear divide where the lesser storms lingered and the colossal beast that was the Cyclone encompassed the Mesa.
Vaylin halted her forces just within one of the outlying storms.
“Alert the Command Center that we’ve arrived, and ready to descend where needed.” Vaylin used the Force to enhance her voice, enough to reach out across the storm they were within.
The surface of Muunilinst provided the backdrop for a war which Lucien had only been able to perceive in his dreams until the present. Full-scale conflict with the Empire had finally been achieved after months of campaigning pressed their fledgling nation onto their border, and the culmination of all their efforts was finally achieved with their push onto the dual words of Muunilinst and Mygeeto. For many within the Order, it was a momentous occasion, and for a time before the fighting began in earnest, Luc counted himself among the ranks of those who had eagerly looked forwards to the start of their conflict at large. He'd joined the Order under the implicit reasoning of wanting to bring the fight to the Sith, after all, but he found his taste for the real thing beginning to wean in the moments leading up to their drop ship breaking atmosphere and descending down onto the surface.
What awaited them on the surface was nothing like the number of battles he'd fought across wild space alongside the men and women who formed the ad-hoc unit of troopers beneath his command. Together they had fought and bled together across multiple worlds, and the lot of them had grown into a cohesive unit under their rookie Jedi commander, who earned their respect through nothing less than giving twice the effort that he expected from them. Luc promised to himself that he'd never make the same mistakes like he'd done so in the past, that he'd always be diligent of the men who willingly chose to stay at his side when they could've easily requested a transfer back into the Corps proper. Perhaps it was a stretch to refer to them as close to being his family, but nonetheless he wouldn't hesitate to put his life on the line to save the men underneath his command, much like they'd done for him many times in the past.
Perhaps that was what made the uneasy feeling within his gut linger around far longer than was normal. Luc wanted to bring all of the men of Crest back home alive, much like he'd managed to accomplish in the majority of the battles leading up to this one. Yet both he and the stormtroopers both knew deep down that it was a promise that not the most veteran commander out on the field that day would be able to keep. The scale of the conflict had drastically switched gears, as they were no longer fighting against an enemy that was equally or inferior in comparison to their own forces. The Order was squaring up against the Sith-Imperial war machine with everything they had, and in the end the scales were still tipped against their favor.
It was an underdog story, that was for sure, but their fight with the Sith Empire was necessary if Lucien and the Order were to achieve their aligned goals of defeating the Sith once and for all. For too long the Empire had been allowed to grow and fester off the backs of the unfortunates who inhabited their conquered worlds. The galaxy's major powers were content with letting the Sith continue on their slow march across the galaxy, and as such their Empire had grown into the behemoth that it was in the present day. Nothing could change the past, and on the same note, nothing he could do would change the fact that the loss of lives would be inevitable in the fight come. All he could do was be at his best when the fighting began, and ensure that his men see him for who he truly wished to be; a commander worthy of their respect, who pressed forwards even when the odds were rigged from the start.
The thoughts faded back into his mind as a hand pressed against his shoulder pauldron, drawing his attention to his side with a shift of his head. <<"Commander Dooku, final equipment checks are complete. The unit is prepared and ready to finish the mission to the end." >> Luc glanced back from atop of his bike and offered a nod towards the Sergeant, whose words carried with them a weight behind them that did much to ease the tension within Luc's stomach. He'd almost forgotten that Crest were not just the men and women behind the helmets, but veteran soldiers who were there for much of the same reasons as he was.
It wasn't just him who understood the implications of the shit that they were dropping in, and a further scan of his men was all it took to confirm that the entire unit was indeed prepared and ready to ride behind their commander, no matter the result that would come. "Copy that, Sergeant. Let's give these sithspawn bastards the time of their lives, then." The sergeant nodded back and returned to his bike, and the entirety of Crest Section brought their speeder bikes to life almost in unison with the blast doors grinding open to present the sight of fiery explosions, ordinance and starfighters dotting the sky around them.
Luc's attention shifted to the Jedi at his side, who brandished a cyan-colored lightsaber as he called out to the soldiers of Shieldbreaker Squadron -- the name of their mixed speeder unit -- with a resolve-boosting "On me!", then dove out of the dropship first. Luc hit the boosters on his speeder the moment Ryv cleared the threshold, following after the Alliance Jedi to his rear as the mixture of Alliance soldiers and Imperial stormtroopers flooded the sky behind them to follow after their joint commanders. He veered off to the left as Ryv cut to his right, letting an approaching starfighter cut between them with little chance to do more than a minimum amount of damage on a quick strafing run.
The rest of the fall to the ground was spent fighting back against gravity and the limitations of the bike itself, which proved difficult for even an experienced speeder pilot like himself. Luckily he managed to hit the ground without any lasting damage to himself or his bike; the same could not be said for everyone who accompanied the Jedi on their descent from the drop ship, and for the majority who made it to the ground, the outer defenses of the Sith-Imperial defenses were sitting in the distance, waiting for the encroaching Imperials to make a move against them.
Lucien reached across to the speeder's side and unhooked his Cortosis staff, brandishing it in his right hand whilst maintaining controller over the speeder bike with his other. The speeder bike shifted into maximum thrust, darting behind Ryv as he moved to catch up to the Jedi and maintain a position close to his rear- enough to watch his back, and avoid a potential collision. "Only forwards, Crest. We'll get through this together." The stormtroopers at his rear soon followed up behind him, maneuvering themselves into a wedge formation with Luc centered as the point. <<"Kill.">>
The captain had not received an answer concerning his request to bombard the spotted entrenched position with the MegaCaliber 6 main turbolaser cannon. What he had heard instead was the commands and the surprise from Sturit Goan
's armored company. Apparently they had encountered some form of ambush by infantry near their location "Corporal! Turn this walker and face that position!" barked the Imperial captain while pointing out the direction from the cockpit window. Knight nodded "Yes sir." and the titanic walker turned barely 45 degrees towards Sturit Goan
's armored company's reported engagement. While the turning on four legs was more precise than if it was on wheels, it was slower than if the warmachine was tracked or a repulsorlift. In a few seconds the walker was turned and the weapon's technicians preformed a brief inspection of the cannon's systems before green-lighting the MegaCaliber 6 as safe to fire "Fire!" exclaimed the captain and the gunner pulled the lever.
At the mouth of the turbolaser cannon there was a brief flash of red before the enormous plasma projectile forced back the barrel into the recoil diminishing devices, launching the superheated matter through several ashen buildings. The flash would be visible for miles, the heat on impact immense. The projectile landed near the vicinity of the infantry pushing on the armored company - the resulting explosion could be felt throughout the battlefield above that of the normal chaos of war. A cloud of ascending smoke, debris, and dirt soared into the sky "1st Platoon to Feral Actual, artillery is friendly. Requesting report." meanwhile Knight and the gunner looked at one another. They could not see each other's faces though they knew what was on the other side. A creeping smile crossed Knight's lips and he whispered "We're really in it now, aren't we?" the gunner nodded then looked back at his console. Most likely taking into account how many lives he had ended by pulling that lever and internally fighting the surreal feelings by remembering his training. Knight on the other hand cherished this moment and relished in their, hopefully, successful attack. "Don't keep us sitting here, take us to their position. We're more of an asset to them then the internal urban forces - for now." Knight again dutifully responded "Yes sir."
The AT-SB's monumental weight began its voyage over to Sturit Goan
's location, he'd most likely see the AT-SB long before they regroup sufficiently.
Navi [Version 10.0.18363.752]
(c) Locke and Key Mechanics. All rights reserved.
C:\Vallaro\Mission\Allies>Lord Venari
| Leon Amun C:\Vallaro\Mission\Enemies>Ryv
| Lucien Dooku
| Dorian Sicarrio C:\Vallaro\Mission\Objective> Defend the Muunilist capital city of Harnaidan C:\Vallaro\Mission\Gear> In character bio Theme
My ship is jamming basic non-TSE comms in the heart of Harnaidan.
Marched to Easter Square w/ Allies,
Trapping Easter Square with a bunch of Hydra Mines
The city came alive with a deafening roar. Even during his military days, Vallaro hated the ceaseless pontificating of those in command but he admitted it had a place in the theater of war. Troop morale was soaring. The hunter imagined the troops foaming at the mouth in their excitement. He chuckled softly at the thought. While he liked working with the Sith, he hated working with troopers.
Sirens blared. Troops scrambled to their positions with weapons in hand and fire in their hearts as the NIO-Alliance began their approach. Vallaro was just finishing off the last bit of his cigarra when it all started.
Tossing the butt over his shoulder, the hunter a smokey breath that filled the air in front of him as he walked. It had been a few months since he’d last been on an active battlefield like this, but he wasn’t about to let that stop him from earning his keep. The Empire paid a handsome sum to skilled bounty hunters to supplement their rank and file but a few of the Sith took it a step further. Venari had paid a rather hefty retainer fee for the hunter’s services over the last few years. If he had any sense, he’d retire someplace far and away from all of this. Vallaro wasn’t known for his sense.
"Vallaro, I'd like to gag their squawkers. We'll keep the tank full; just make sure enemy comms are jammed."
“I’ll keep ‘em in the dark.” He whipped out his communicator and fed it a series of commands. Fingers dancing across the screen in a dance they rehearsed a thousand times before. “Beginning blackout in 3…2..1.” Jamming frequencies emitted from The Surreptitious, spreading out through the air in all direction. Without the proper Sith keys to cut through the noise, most communication in the immediate area would a pipe dream. “So long as she’s filled, they’ll be in the dark.” Vallaro Gathered his gear and followed his companions as they marched.
The eastern square wasn’t far, and Legionnaires made quick work of dispatching any NIO-Alliance that had delusions of resistance. Vallaro stayed to the back. Making sure no NIO-Alliance troops could muster a rear strike. A hand fill of snipers though themselves clever, waiting until after the marching force had mostly passed before taking their shots. “Snipers! Put two rockets right under them. We’ll take the whole side of the building from those cowards.” Quickly a small detachment of the rear guard followed suit. While the hunter wasn’t fond of them, he trusted them enough to remove a threat when ordered. Even if he wasn’t a Sith, he had the ear of one and to a legionnaire that was more than enough.
The Eastern Square was cleared by the time Vallaro had got there. Typical of Venari and his troops. Diving headlong into battle and leaving nothing more than hunks of flesh by the end of it. Not that he was complaining of course. Overwhelming force was his preferred method of dealing with problems. He simply liked the gentle application of high explosives more that the force.
“I’ll start trapping the area,” He mentioned to Venari and Leon as he carried a box of Hydra Mines with him. “I’ll send a map of where to your comms in a sec. Just be damn careful, they’re all on high so it’ll do a lot more than tickle if they get ya.” With that note, he set to his work.
“Oh yeah, have one of the guys bring me that blue crate over there.” He pointed with his lips towards the small pile of supplies that was forming. “Brought some Kashutes too. Gonna fortify any week spots. Take a few of ‘em with ya too.”
\\ Bridge network one, several stories below Imperial Warlord Zovesa
's main assault \\ New Imperial Order, Force Corps Auxilia platoon Castus and three other platoons \\ Approaching one of the lower bridges through the snowstorm \\ 56/56
It was the 1ˢᵗ when we landed on Mygeeto. Orders had come in a week prior telling us to prepare for a new offensive. After the campaign on our side of the Prefsbelt sector, we were honestly just happy to get some rest before we set out for the next deployment. None of us really knew what to expect from our former brothers and sisters when we finally made our push into the Braxant. We were well aware of the mighty Imperial Military-Industrial complex, the way it sucked up innocent men and women and spit out unfeeling cannon fodder by the millions. Somehow that didn't deter us, however.
Somehow we thought that this would be a simple campaign. I guess we still hoped that they'd just drop their arms and embrace us as their liberators, come to excise the blight that was the Sith. We thought that it would all be over within months. That we'd have our grand victory celebrations on Bastion by life day. I have to stop myself from laughing at my own naivetè when I think back to those days. On Borosk, Sawyer and I were already discussing which of Bastion's provinces was best suited to settle down in.
It's been eight weeks since then. Sawyer had wagered we'd have Jaemus behind us by now, headed for Bescane as the last stepping stone to the Imperator's ultimate prize. I myself thought that Muunilinst was more reasonable. In the end, that was a lot of hubris talking. We'd been in plenty of engagements, but fighting our former friends and family? We had honestly expected them to join our cause once they saw us coming.
War strikes differently when you fight your own brothers and sisters. We were all in it together back in the day, under the yolk of the Sith. Just ordinary folk trying to make an honest living, we never really wanted to be turned into mindless husks obeying some self-aggrandizing Emperor. We genuinely thought that others saw it that way, too. But these Sith-Legionnaires, they just keep fighting and fighting. As though they actually believed what the Sith were telling them.
Why? Why do you continue to die for nothing? Sawyer had asked one of them after we took bridge Leth-nine-five, about three weeks in. The Sith had just stared us in the eyes as he spit blood at our feet. Called us a traitor to their Empire. The look he had in his eyes. That sense of smugness, as though he was driven to continue living solely through his hatred of everything we stood for. I didn't sleep well the next couple days.
It's been eight weeks since then. Sawyer's gone. We buried him a few days ago. He died on bridge Isk-two-five two weeks ago. We didn't find out until a few days had already passed. He was MIA until one of the scouts dragged his corpse back from a reconnaissance mission. Figured a master sergeant should be buried by his squad. Force bless his soul, that man had a good heart.
His death hit me hard. We signed up for the Sith Imperial Legionnaires together. Went through many deployments in the same unit and when the time came to follow Sovereign Imperator Tavlar into freedom it was only thanks to him that I managed to conquer my fear and follow through with it. The entire platoon had mourned him for a few days following his burial. But duty called and soon enough we-
A nudge to his shoulder brought his attention away from the datapad and back to the present. The finger that wrested him free of his memories belonged to the new Master Sergeant, Ori. A good soldier, she'd served with their platoon ever since Aeten. Her promotion was long overdue, they'd both known it, but neither had expected it to come under circumstances like these.
"Brought you some caf. Figured if you won't sleep you could use the extra energy."
Cameron nodded in thanks. He tried not to think about how he must have looked. His hair felt like a dishevelled mess, he hadn't shaved in days, and sleep came so seldom that the rings underneath his eyes had become a permanent feature.
"Any news from the Knight Marshal? We've been sitting in these towers for days."
"Nothing yet, but the day's still young, y'know." There was a sense of banter to her statement that tipped him off to her true meaning.
He remained silent for a few moments.
"I tried to get some sleep. Honest."
Ori's eyes met his as he looked at her apologetically. Back on Borosk, she had convinced their medic to give out an order to the commander to finally get him to sleep. He could still remember the look of exasperation she'd given him whenever she found him still awake in his tent. When he looked at her now there was none of that stubbornness in her eyes. Her expression was soft, understanding almost.
She sighed and sat down next to him. "Xan says there's something brewing in high command. I don't think we'll be sitting around for much longer."
Another charge into no man's land was in the works then. For a moment he wondered whether the Lord General and his staff had so little regard for the lives of their troops that they would send them out on those bridges a fourth time, but he stopped himself. He knew their situation. He was privy to enough of their strategic circumstances to know there was no other option but to keep pushing onwards. Mygeeto had become a meat grinder and there was little they could do to change it.
The commander set down the mug of caf and leaned to the side to let his head rest on Ori's shoulder.
"I can't do it. I can't order them out there again." Cameron's voice had become shaky.
She brought her hand up to his shoulder and let her own head lean to the side to rest on his.
"You have to." her tone was soft, barely more than a whisper. "For all the people that depend on us to free them from the Sith."
The image of the blood-covered Legionnaire came to him again. He felt the still-hot blood hit his face once more, could almost hear the wet laughter the Sith had produced in his death throes. It mocked everything the New Imperial Order stood for with the contempt it laid bare.
The pain of loss, the pressure of responsibility, the fear of that next order, it all burst forth in him as tears began to well up in his eyes. He brought up his sleeve to catch one of the lines as it rolled down the side of his face. Ori lifted her head to look at him for a moment, then turned to bring him close into a comforting embrace.
"I can't ... I just ... I just can't do that to them." He'd begun to sob faintly and she was shushing him softly in response.
"Remember the reason we've come here for. You have the strength to get us through this. I believe in that." She whispered.
-
He'd finally been able to sleep for a full eight hours. Platoon Castus was out in full battle gear, doing their final preparations. Word had come from high command to expect deployment today, so they had all crawled out of bed early and rendezvoused near the lower section of the bridge tower.
"The way I figure it, they want us running out there to set charges. Get the bridges ready to feign a retreat and then, bam! Blow 'em right out from under those legionnaires." The young private exclaimed with quite some excitement.
"Yeah right. As though the Sith would ever fall for that. See, the way I see it-" The other private was interrupted before he could launch into another one of his lectures.
"Varan, Jax, zip it." The comms officer interjected. "I'm getting a signal from Knight-Marshal Zovesa, sir." He called out to their commander.
Farwell was standing near one of the windows in the darkened room. He was peering through a set of macro binoculars but set them down on a crate next to him when he turned to move to his comms officer.
"What's she saying, corporal."
The officer had put the comm-link to his ear, listening intently to the transmission. Farwell's question seemed to fall on deaf ears as the man ignored his commander for several moments.
"Corporal?"
"S-sir. I think you should hear this for yourself." He tossed the small device to Farwell.
Whatever had managed to cause the corporal to seize-up took ahold of the commander as well as he simply stood with the commlink pressed to the side of his head. Slowly the chatter amongst the platoon began to die down as word spread about new orders. All eyes settled on the commander as they waited for him to relay the message.
"Aurek. Aurek. Aurek."
The silence changed tone as the commander uttered the words. The air was suddenly loaded with tension. Their eyes remained settled on him for several heartbeats. A mixture of fear and resolve coursed through the room. They were all aware of their duty and none of them had the gall to refuse to follow their platoon into battle. An all-out assault on the Sith stronghold would follow within the hour. Their fates were sealed.
-
Their orders were simple. Take the bridge, push back the Sith. What was left of Castus Platoon stood ready near one of the lower bridges of the first bridge network. The door towards the outside had been permanently broken open. The frigid ice-winds of Mygeeto blew in dust and snow. White particles violently dancing in the storm almost appeared like light, streaming into the darkness where the auxilia were preparing their push.
The clacking of equipment and armour echoed as the wind's only companion. There were fifty-six of them assembled in the foyer. About a hundred-fifty more stood ready near the adjacent buildings' exits. Thorn, Sunder, and Revenant platoons respectively. Two regular infantry, one force corps auxilia like they were. Officially the auxilia were regarded as the force corps' personal elite support infantry, but in practice, Cameron had noted there to be practically no difference in skill between the regular infantry and them. That lack of division meant joint-ops tended to be smooth affairs.
As he peered out into the storm his thoughts were once again filled with uncertainty. He'd stared out at that nothingness before. Charged headfirst into it, leading the men and women under him into an impossible crucible.
A lump began to form in his throat. The chrono read two minutes to operation start. He turned to look towards the troopers under his command. They were all still, black visors fixed on the only source of light in the darkened room, staring out into the storm beyond that gate. Above the sound of artillery fire had commenced. The distant rumble of explosions and weapon's fire could be heard all the way down here. Marshal Zovesa and her force corps had already commenced their advance.
His eyes finally caught the familiar stripes of the master sergeant's helmet. Her gaze was just as everyone else's, directed towards the storm. Guilt washed over him as he stared at that helmet. A voice in the back of his mind quietly taunted him with memories of the former owner of those stripes. He closed his eyes and pushed his helmet up a little, just past the tip of his nose. With his free hand he brought the single pendant he wore up to his mouth, pressing the cool metal against his lips as he voiced a silent prayer to the Force. A few moments later he let the pendant go and returned his helmet to its proper state.
"Aurek-two, -six, -eight, -ten," he began through their platoon's channel, "Platoon Castus. While you're out there, remember those who we fight for. Don't let hatred guide you, rise beyond what the Sith have to offer. I put my fullest trust in all of you. Make the Marshal proud out there and may the Force be with you."
Through their visors, he couldn't gauge their reactions, but the troopers had all turned to listen. Even as he felt resolve return he wondered how many of those visors he would get to see again.
His helmet's comlink piped up with a quiet burst of static. "This is Lieutenant Damarcus to platoon leaders. Thorn, Sunder, Castus, Revenant, the operation is a go. Give 'em hell down there."
"Alright, Castus, time to go."
There was no grand charge, the lieutenant had left their approach up to the platoon leaders' discretion. All four of them had been in agreement, they would creep up the bridge as far as they could before opening fire.
Cameron was amongst the first dozen to exit the main portal into the icy hell beyond the tower. Any sound their equipment made was masked by the howling gales crashing against the bridge. There were approximately fifty feet of platform before they would reach the bridge proper. Diligent work by siege engineers like their own platoon had made sure they had good cover on their advance.
As he peered to the right and left of him, he could barely make out the other troopers as they slowly crept out from within the tower. Ahead of him, he saw the set of massive steel beams supporting the bridge on either side. He could make out vague shapes falling through the snow, shining brightly and erratically. Burning debris from the battles above. He continued setting one foot after the other to get closer to that bridge, praying that the wrath of those above and before them would not bear down on them and find them lacking.
Beneath the dozens of speeders that made up Shieldbreaker-Squadron, the grassy mesa leading up to Muunilist seemed nothing more than a green blur. Ryv found his eyes momentarily wandering, taking in the chaos unfolding all around him, before eventually leveling his amber gaze on the city's outer defenses. Sith-Imperial legionnaires, alongside anti-air cannons, support vehicles, and all manner of invasion-breaking weaponry awaited the steadily approaching speeder-swarm. His gaze slipped to Lucien Dooku
at his side, the exiled Prince of Serenno holding the position closest to the Sword of the Jedi. While Ryv typically would've favored Loske Treicolt
or Maynard Treicolt
, he knew the duty-bound warrior beside him would more than makeup for his missing allies. Lucien's aura bled that of confidence and inspiration, much like Ryv's own, which left the kiffar feeling assured in their task at hand. Fifteen-hundred meters from the inevitable clash, a familiar voice crackled through his commlink.
<"Karis. I need your speeders to push through the salient we've flexed in their lines, bare north-northwest. Break them.">
"Roger that, sir. We're one thousand meters out and approaching fast. We'll punch a hole for the boys in white, don't stress it," Ryv Karis, Paragon-Actual, reported as they raced closer. The smooth sailing up until that point came to an end as artillery shells boomed from the city limits, sailing down to the earthen span between the encroaching forces and the defenders. The first explosion ripped at nothing, tearing up the terrain and sending it up, alongside a cloud of grime and dirt, high into the air. The second shell collided with their western flank, outright obliterating half a dozen of his riders. "Son of a b-" the Jedi Knight caught himself and swerved to the left, narrowly avoiding one of the numerous explosions rocking the mesa. Fortunately, the advantage of speed and maneuverability made Shieldbreaker a particularly tricky target to hit.
"Listen up!" Ryv's voice shot through his squadron's commlink. "We're gonna turn this defensive into a goddamn sponge, boys. Break into groups of five and breakthrough different positions leading into the city. We'll hit em on the way back as well! Our forces our relying on this push, so let's make it happen," his voice cut out at that, his focus once more falling on the approaching wall. His grip tightened on the lance, turning it about in his gloved hand. Already, adrenaline pumped through his veins, preparing the Jedi Knight for the inevitable crash. The distance grew shorter and shorter, with Ryv eventually able to see his reflection in the T-Visor of a very unlucky Sith-Imperial Legionnaire holding formation before him. The novelty of randomness was lost on Ryv the moment a familiar voice sounded over his comm.
"Engaging the Emperor."
"No," Ryv barely noticed the spray of blood from the man torn through by his lance, even as the crimson ichor splattered against his face. All around them, the crash of battle echoed as the shrieks of the dying competed with speeder bike engines to be heard. Allyson's fear felt palpable, reaching through their bond to rest heavy on the Jedi's heart. He swallowed hard, pushing past the small break in the defense before shooting deeper into the city. "Mancatcher, you're up. We've got word Carnifex is on the board," he reached down to fit the lance back in place, only now noticing it was torn from his grasp the moment it impacted the Legionnaire's chest. Ryv took a deep breath and shakily gripped the speeder bike's clutch. "Lucien, Dorian, we're up. Lucky and I ran recon before the invasion, if the plan hasn't changed we can make it there to contest the Dark Lord."
Another vision ripped through Ryv's mind as he took a corner. This time, the shock of being blown through a window struck his mind, nearly resulting in a direct impact with an encampment of Sith-Imperial soldiers. He took a deep breath in an attempt to center himself, once more taking hold of the cosmic bond shared between him and the Corellian. He held tight with his mind, sending a surge of comfort to her while showing nothing but confidence in her ability. The Blade of Ruusan pulsed its powerful force signature, radiating raw light side energy over the Jedi Knight who greedily accepted it. If not for the hilt hanging at his side, Ryv's natural fears and anxieties would've set in the moment he caught flashes of Allyson's torture years prior.
Rounding a corner, a third vision wracked his consciousness. The feeling of being crushed alive by an unstoppable force gripped the kiffar's spirit. He visibly shrunk into his speeder as pain shot through his mind. It took everything he had not to outright collapse, which may have led to Ryv's inability to sense the ambush laid out to welcome them. As the trio pushed further down one long avenue, the Jedi Knight finally came back to his senses. He looked up in time to see the smiling face of a Sith Lord, joined by turrets, heavy gunners, snipers, and rocket launchers. The kiffar's eyes widened in complete surprise as they opened fire. Ryv swerved left and right, then activated the shield latched onto his arm. It snapped to life just in time to turn away a stream of blaster fire from above. Having drawn too close to a suspiciously parked speeder, he Jedi Knight noticed his mistake a moment too soon.
An explosion ripped from the center of the idle speeder, throwing Ryv clear of his own speeder bike via the pressure alone. His body impacted hard against the ground and tumbled a dozen paces before he finally managed to slow to a stop. Drawing the lightsaber from his belt, Ryv activated the Blade of Ruusan and scanned their immediate surroundings. With both Dorian and Lucien in similar circumstances, Ryv raised his shield and held his lightsaber tight. He batted aside whatever blaster fire drew too close with his saber, before working his way towards a building lining the avenue.
"We have to pull back!" Ryv called over the din of battle, barely audible over the chaos. He raced across the street and battered down the door to a towering building, using his shield as the point of contact. He held the position, expertly swiping back and forth with his cyan-bladed saber, deflecting blaster fire back into the Sith-Imperial Legionnaires.
Staring into the mirror that stood before him, the man of Coruscant felt lost within his own gaze. It drew him in, keeping him trapped within the deep mire of his own thoughts. Every imperfection he could see, every stray vein of color within the gray irises, he could trace as easily as the lines that marked the backs of his hand as the ages passed him by. They were labyrinthine, bleeding out towards the near-black rim of the iris, veins of dark color like branches, or roots. Drawn closer, he could almost see the small wires beneath the surface of the iris, a system of lights and machines so small that perhaps there was nothing smaller, save for the midichlorians that filled his cells.
Grasping the sides of the sink, he was locked within the glass labyrinth of his thoughts. He traced the imperfections in his skin and in his eyes, small marks that betray the truth that haunted him day and night and kept him grounded. For a moment, he could see the man who dropped everything to go to his father’s side to hear his dying wishes. For a moment he could see the man who watched the light fading from a brother’s eyes before all light faded from view in one cataclysmic stroke. He could see the man before he became a survivor, and he could see the survivor before he became what he was now.
Lord of War in all its entirety, and yet there was still the truth that he was human, no greater demigod or immortal being. Simply human.
It weighed on his shoulders as heavily as a lead mantle, and every time he looked into the mirror he once again felt the weight of such mundaneness. He could see it in the new wrinkles on his forehead, the darker shadows on his face, the bloodshot edges of his gaze. Sure, he was as sharp as a sword, perhaps sharper than ever, but such an amount of duty and the need to hold himself to the immortal monsters he served beside wore on him heavily. Standing up taller, he allowed his eyes to close as he took a deep breath, feeling the world fade for a moment. With an exhale it all returned, and Telis was still there, staring back at his cruel, mute reflection.
Straightening his posture as though he’d been smacked out of the blue, Telis steeled his resolve once again, a brief myriad of color flushing before landing upon a deep crimson, his skin now etched with designs like broken lines of code. His thoughts fell upon the idea of machination, and it brought him back to himself, as he turned from the mirror and readied the vestments that he’d prepared. Just a day before, he’d been dissecting the movements of the New Imperial Order above Mygeeto, and when the news came that they had turned their sights to Muunilist, the news didn’t surprise him, but still raptured his thoughts. Now he had to be sure that his machinations set in progress would not fail him. This would be their finest hour.
Dressing himself and checking himself within the mirror, there wasn’t any sort of fear or apprehension that took him now. There was a readiness, but a doubt that such readiness would be enough - if the plans had worked as hoped for, he wouldn’t have ever been needed to join the fight. Alas, when working with time as an enemy the expectation is never the outcome, and within hours, Telis prepared a fleet to intervene above Mygeeto, while others had reacted and wished to slake their thirst for glory above Muunilist. There would be no glory for Taharin today, only duty.
As he prepared himself through the routine that consumed his average mornings, Telis felt more and more an odd calmness, verging on aloofness, filling his veins. He looked at himself again and only saw the perfect, unfaltering shade of red that had overtaken his irises. With a smile he turned towards the rest of his attire - nothing but a tunic over a black bodysuit, lacking all sense of style or grace or splendor. In the middle of strapping on the onyx-black metal greaves to his feet, his mind was interrupted by a knock upon the doors of the chambers he resided. It wa swiftly opened by an officer soon thereafter, accompanied by a retinue of Sith Troopers, armor almost as dark as Telis’s.
”My Lord… the time comes.” The Officer looked on the unimposing form of the Dark Councillor, head held high as he addressed the man with a sense of reverence and respect, a notable lack of fear that he might have held for the other Councillors. To them, Telis was one of them - not a glory seeker nor a zeal-blinded cultist. To them he was a strategist, an opportunist, and a warrior. To them, he was one of them. With a single nod, Telis sent the man away, rising to his full height and picking up the rest of the metal equipment he had, pulling over the greaves on his arms and the seal-stamped chest piece over his front. As Telis put on the last of the armor, the Coruscanti man was gone, and in his place was Aagenti.
Collecting the few weapons he had at his personal disposal and sending out the two Commando Droids within his room in front of him, Aagenti turned his head up and forward, his face gaunt in the pale white light, as he went forward. Sirens filled the hall as the Anathema approached its target. As he stepped out of his room and into the busy hallways, Aagenti left behind the fears that plagued him, turning them to cold-iron resolve. As the ships left hyperspace, the fires of the crucible ignited and Aagenti was thrust into the heart of the relentless fire.
———————————————
Standing at the upraised pedestal above the technicians and officers, Lord Aagenti watched the stars racing past, an armada moving through hyperspace with the Anathema are the lead, and Aagenti at its helm. Hands clasped behind his back, Aagenti observed the situation around him with scrutiny, his expression unreadable yet full of an air of command and regality. All at once the stars slowed, the Sith-Imperial armada appeared in a single flash, leaping into the space above Mygeeto where NIO ships already traded blows with planetside forces. The earlier strike craft and corvettes of the armada arrived before the brunt of the force, and, knowing their instructions well, set to the bloody course designated before them.
Through the black abyss strike craft and gunships moved to intercept the ships heading down to supply NIO with much-needed reinforcements, TIE fighters running the force as lap hounds would their huntsmen. Breaching the atmosphere in full squadrons, there was no moment of mercy afforded as the ships sought to slam into the descending reinforcements, the sky turning red with streaks of heavy blaster fire, while a single corvette moved in afterwards to supply heavy gunfire from just above the dogfight. Rushing towards one of the main ships, an ace Imperial fighter felt a cool sense of ease wash over her, as the new dogfight bloomed into crimson chaos above the wintry planet.
In her hands, the controls of the ship felt like an extension of herself, as she faced those who were possibly once allies and even flew alongside her. She was betraying those who she had fought to protect and out-perform, once upon a time, but her resolve was set. They betrayed her first, and she wouldn’t back down, in the name of the empire. Taking control of the situation like a hardened veteran, she was the first in, her allies and fellow soldiers behind her as she felt her resolve now given direction and drive. This was more than just for the pain she’d been caused - this was for those that had remained beside her.
”Strike them fast, strike them hard, boys! They’re not your allies anymore, so let’s give them two-fold what they plan to give to us!” The pilot’s voice sounded out over the comms of her squadron, though the relay was quickly shared towards the whole platoon of fighter-squadrons moving away from the fight in space. As the first wave of elite fighters drove in against the atmospheric operations of the New Imperial Order, from behind a third of the Potentate-Class Battlecruiser’s squadrons followed in suit, breaching atmosphere soon afterwards while the other Strikecraft, Interceptors, and Bombers deployed to strike at the defensive line above Mygeeto.
As the Potentate unloaded its craft, the Anathema in turn began to send out the ships it had been harboring as well, a second wave of Strike crafts and Gunships flying from the massive bay doors as the hangars quickly emptied out, after a scurried hive of activity. In each and every pilot and soldier leaving the shop there was the fear of the unknown and what laid beyond them in the heart of the most desperate combat, and even up the line such a feeling emerged, binding all peoples present into one web. It tightened them and steeled them for what’s to come, made them from soldiers into one single fighting force. Even on his pedestal, watching the combat commence Aagenti could feel that same sense of unity. He was here as much as every other soldier.
At the forefront of the armada was the lone Athena-Class frigate, like a beacon in a sea of chaos. As soon as the waves of fighters were sent out and the lone corvette followed, the shield generators at the front of the ship crackled to life, projecting a large sphere of blue energy around not only itself, but the Anathema, the Protectate Battlecruiser, and three of the cruisers; Longbow-Class. The rest of the ships, fortifying the swarm of starfighters, moved towards the NIO defensive line, while chaos only ever heightened on Aagenti’s ship.
”My Lord, the fleets are engaged and moving to meet the enemy now. This situation should be over and swiftly dealt with. We should doubt not the strength of the Empire’s fleets.” The officer turned up to Lord Aagenti as he stared across the bleak expanse, though as the words left his mouth the man turned down to face him, an eyebrow raising inquisitively at the remark, and a deep, heavy sigh parting his lips. There was genuine disappointment, as praxis is never as truthful as practice.
”Admiral, overconfidence breeds a dangerous plague called stupidity. I would expect that a man of your training and station would be far more practical in your thinking - less trust and more evidence, no?” Aagenti spoke slowly to the man, loud enough that all other technicians in the room could hear him as he scrutinized the officee’s statement. With a raising of his hand to his chin, he would extend a flat palm outwards, bringing it up to his side, before jabbing two fingers out to his side - a silent command to enforce the engagement parties and send out a message that the confrontation had begun.
”Are the Darkpyre and Darkstar stations activated yet, Admiral?” Aagenti looked down towards the Admiral, as the man tried to assert his status and keep his dignity by straightening his posture. Aagenti respected a man who didn’t crumble under the glare of authority, and in truth he trusted quite wholly the Admiral he had chosen to help command the engagement. His hatred for the NIO blinded him at times, but Aagenti knew he was somebody who had something to lose from this. He wouldn’t back down.
”No, my Lord-“ Before he could even finish, Aagenti cut him off with the raise of a hand, his eyes closing as he lifted his chin, before making a quick circle with his fingers in mid-air, ordering the technicians on the ship to follow the previous statement he had uttered. Without delay, the dozens of personnel in the room got to work, contacting Mygeeto’s systems and sending out a signal across the stars. Above Mygeeto, a new string of code was set in motion, activating some of the few satellites that had yet to be destroyed by both sides during the conflict, and engaging one of the many projects that Aagenti had meticulously overseen throughout the past months.
”Then return to your post, Admiral, and do your job. The stations can control themselves, but somebody will still need to ensure that their fighters know where to fire. Understood?” Aagenti hissed as he put emphasis on the final word, staring down at the Admiral as the man took it in stride, his gaunt features not even flickering for a second. A single nod, and the man retreated to his post. Once again, Aagenti turned his sights to outside the ship, where in the distance the once-inactive stations now began to stir with life, bar doors opening as dozens and dozens of droid starfighters poured out, and the defenses manned by the engineers aboard the various stations. Thanks to them, Aagenti had been able to prepare for the fight to come. Now they would be part of the fight to come.
Above Mygeeto, the Sith-Imperial armada awakened, moving to clash with one of the many defense lines above Mygeeto. The war machine was set in motion as the fighters fell into their designations, squadrons, and timelessly reviewed formations, while from behind heavy fire sought to disarm the heaviest ships that threatened the newly emergent swarm. Aagenti, at the helm, clasped his hands behind his back, standing tall once again as he lifted his chin towards the distant, black horizon, his face scrunching up as he shouted orders and took direct command of his ship and his operation. There was no turning back now; it was all or nothing, and Aagenti knew there were no limits to how far he was willing to go to defend what was his.
Wraith’s sorting into the position of scout trooper came from the days he spent in the academy, preparing to serve on the battlefield under the Sith Empire. He was recognized for a near-unparalleled accuracy with a blaster and keen mind for observation and study. After being assigned to General Tavlar’s army following his growth within the Sith-Imperial military structure, Davis Garrick met Sam Deckard. Assigned to the same squad, each of them had seen their fair share of battle throughout their service. With these experiences came a better understanding of the other, to a point wherein battle, they functioned almost as one. Seeing Deckard pull back from the rolling ordnance, Garrick mirrored his sole ally, turned on his heel, and dove through a break in the wreckage behind him. The explosion rocked where they once were, blasting rubble and shrapnel in all directions. Wraith rolled back to his feet and lifted his pilfered blaster, laying down suppressive fire on the unit blasting at his wounded ally.
"Wraith, shots from your nine! They're karking everywhere!" Sam’s voice echoed from around the wreckage.
“I’m on it! Keep low,” Wraith called back, dropping one of the quartet of legionnaires before sliding back behind cover, taking up a position beside Tempest. Noting the chainblaster and Sam’s intent, Davis leaned back around the corner and sent another series of shots zipping through the air towards a separate group of shooters. Though none of his shots found their mark, it set them off balance and forced them back long enough for his friend to escape nearly unscathed. “We can’t stay here, we’re practically out in the open!” Wraith called over the din of battle. Another legionnaire approached this time pushing up with the wreckage as cover. Garrick stepped up, leveled his blaster with the trooper’s face, and sent a beam of energy through the soldier’s helmet and skull. As the corpse hit the floor, Wraith dropped behind cover once again.
<"RDAG Three, this is Hellhound-Two - what is your status? Repeat. What is your status">
With a friendly transmission finally breaking through to the two trapped stormtroopers, Wraith nearly yelped with joy. The storm of fire whirring over their heads reminded him they weren’t out of it yet. Carefully, he peeked around the dropship wreckage, searching for a route out of there. The screech of Deckard’s chainblaster lit up the already noisy streets, only to be followed by screams of pain and the dying. Finally, the scout trooper’s HUD zeroed in on a partially collapsed doorway leading into a towering building. He pinged the location on his HUD before pulling back behind cover.
“I’ve got eyes on something,” Wraith shouted to his companion before popping off another three-round-burst into an approaching soldier. “I’m popping smoke then pushing up, stay on my six, Tempest,” he stood up and slung his beam-rifle over his shoulder before unholstering the blaster pistol at his belt. His other hand unlatched a grenade from its hook. “Smoke out!” he reported to his ally, before tossing a second opposite of the first. Both canisters cracked open, leaking growing plumes of smoke. “Alright, go go go!” he pushed past the wreckage, hastily limping towards the open doorway.
As the Battle in the Frost Cyclone raged on the surface , the Battle of the Bloody Aurora had just begun. After a few dozen minutes , the long awaited Sith-Imperial Armada arrived charging at the defending New Imperial Fleet releasing a swarm of fighters , how many squadrons deployed Marlon could only guess. "Sir , a Sith-Imperial Fleet has entered the system and has released an unknown amount of Starfighters with a portion of those fighters heading for the surface and the rest charging at us" an Officer said.
"We are clearly outnumbered here , but that does not matter only strategy is key to winning a battle. Fire all Ion Weapons on their fighters and vessels alike , we should be able to take out a huge amount of them. Meanwhile proceed to prepare our Enhanced Shield Disruption Projector for activation once their fleet gets close to ours. We should be able to decimate them once that happens." Captain Sularen ordered. "Yes sir , and what about our fighters?" asked an officer. "Keep them in reserve , only mobilize them when the first Sith-Imperial Fightercraft hit our Fleet. Our Point Defense Weapons should take out a considerable amount of Sith-Imperial Vessels in their strike to our greater advantage."
This wasn't going to be an easy fight but the Sith had already given him a small advantage in diverting a section of their fighters to launch atmospheric strikes on the New Imperial Troops on the ground. Marlon did not order to intercept those fighters however for , they would be flying into a Frost Cyclone. Marlon was confident that in that Cyclone these Fighters would have some trouble navigating through the area probably some of them crashing into each other along the way with Marlon expecting an attack on the Ground Forces of the NIO would be ineffective in this type of weather and would result in both Sith-Imperial and New Imperial Casualties.
By sending some portions of his fighters to the surface , the Sith-Imperial Commander had somewhat given Marlon an advantage , he would have to deal with less fighters and by allowing utilizing his Fleet's Ion Weaponry he expected to be able to take down a significant amount of fighters giving him the upper hand and the capability of mopping up the rest of the Sith-Imperial Starfighters as they striked against Wraith Squadron. Looking at the Sith-Imperial Fleet infront of him , however Marlon knew things would be different though for now dealing with the swarms of fighters would be the biggest priority.
The Vessels of Wraith Squadron fire their Ion Weaponry against Sith-Imperial Fighters
Enhanced Shield Disruption Projectors are ready for Activation
Sith-Imperial Atmospheric Strike Force is allowed to enter Mygeeto Airspace without Wraith Squadrons intervention.
Post: 3
Location: Mygeeto, Southern Mesas, Bridge 2
Faction Objective: 1
Allies: Darth Kados| TSE Forces
Enemies: open to anyone that would like to battle | 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
Immediate Objective: Cross Bridge 2
”Well, I don’t have anything better…” Amur blinked at the pureblood’s staggering vote of confidence. At least he didn’t seem to have a stick up his ass like most darth, emphasis on the word seem. She followed down as he gave the order to his crew as if it were his own, Amur feeling her boots crunching against the snow. She studied the soldiers scurrying out of the wrecked corvette, armed with fresh uniforms that didn’t seem to have one loose belt buckle or a single missing button. Fresh faced boys in comparison to the average grunt on the front, that wouldn’t last long though.
Following Kados down to the base of the bridge she would finally begin to notice that her left arm felt lazy and sluggish. Grabbing her bicep with her right hand and performing a quick rotational movement she would feel it ache and moan at her as a dull throbbing pain was finally radiating from her arm to her mind. Likely a mark from her fall. Cursing under her breath, knowing that she would have to go into battle with this defect. Still her eyes gazed over to the soldiers now beginning a mad scramble to the supply crates she could feel their elation and cheers as they took any morsel of food, ammo and weaponry they could. Battle worn and torn soldiers now having a new electrified boost of energy as they finally got their hands on brand new equipment and supplies for the first time in weeks no longer having to pinch and ration. A small smile daring to emerge at the edge of her lips. Those weary battling bastards could see the end now and hope of finally getting off this frozen hell hole was now tangible.
She looked at the odd pureblood that now motioned her to the front. A determination beginning to seep into her soul now. A victory snatched from the jaws of despair was the most delicious thing to her and she wanted nothing more than to seize it and pass the spoils around to every surviving man and woman that walked this battle. She would turn back to the men before setting off to the front replying to Kados’ call to the front with a simple ”Indeed”. She was hungry for an end to this stalemate and the needless prancing about that both sides were committed to. Still she couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the Darth at the mention of his last prior combat. A hundred fething years? She was hoping that this lord in shadowed armor wasn’t merely a false idol.
”Dear I know it’s common among men your age, but the last thing I need is for you to have performance issues. Try to keep up.” She teased at Kados with a strong element of playfulness to her voice, it felt like the first time in weeks since she felt jovial enough to joke. With her taunt she hoped it would help motivate the Darth to not let himself be shown up by an underling like a knight. She hopped over the barricade, activating her spikes in her boots as they sprung down and granted additional traction. The ground of the bridge now covered in a layer of thin ice topped by several centimeters of snow. The blizzard still raging at it’s full strength failing to let up, normally a hazard but now as she advanced she fully embraced it as the white fluffy droppings began to coat and naturally camouflage her armor. Maintaining a steady jogging pace she would begin to make her cloaked advance across the bridge. Whereas Kados seemed to be putting on a light show and drawing attention to himself in an impressive display of saber deflection technique Amur chose a much more subtle approach. Keeping her saber unignited and letting the Corvette’s song of sound and fury along with the Kados’ entrance draw and attract all of the attention away from herself she would steadily sneak through the chaos figuring that one silhouette would be easy to miss or mistake.
Her march across the bridge from hell would be marked with destroyed vehicles, wrecked cover and implacements along with the cadavers of the fallen. Each body being another reminder of the cost of this fight. Each one locked in their final emotions and moments before fading through the void and merging with the Force. All merely pawns in a petty squabble for power.
Her body opened to the force using it to try and sense the battle unfolding around her, now with a much more paranoid and focused edge then her initial charge across bridge one. She didn’t dare let herself be caught off guard again. Amur would stop her march as she could feel life and death in front of her and a stream of bodies making their way forward. An attacking wave from the NIO no doubt with only tens of meters separating the Sith. Taking cover and kneeling behind the wreckage of an armored vehicle she would wait for the force to pass close or be slaughtered by the cannonade of the Corvette. The snow quickly built up and covered Amur acting as a form of concealment. Tens of meters separating them, the sound of marching boots and blaster fire marking their encroachment, a sense of adrenaline flowing through her Sith as she fought every instinct that told her to move. Instead it was only when several of them walked by too focused on moving forward as fast as possible that she would strike. Quickly leaping up the first indicator the NIO trooper got was the sound of the saber igniting and flourishing to life. A quick simple strike would behead the first as Amur would quickly switch and leap to another trooper on her left slicing off a portion of his rifle along with his forearm in a quick diagonal. Care taken to swing with only her right hand, as she then quickly pulled another trooper she sensed in front of her towards her in time for a barrage of retaliating fire to be blocked by the human shield. Letting him drop to the ground she would reach for a concussion grenade with her left arm as she lazily threw the object in the direction of the troopers, using it’s flash and concussive effect to retreat back into the white and prepare another strike.
Howling like a hungry krayt dragon, Ursula was advancing in a straight line. Around them were colorful armor of Mandalorians from their House shooting and taking to the skies with their jetpacks shooting colorful beams across the glittering sky, if someone removed her helmet at that very moment they would find those devious lips of hers lips twisted in a smile that was already hurting their flesh on her face.
"MORE! … MORE!" She spoke, letting her finger run free in the trigger of her infamous disruptor, the most magnificent work ever done by the lost warmaster Kaine Australis of her day serving Mandalore to Heretic on her home planet. “SCREAM MORE, YOUR KLARKING USELESS SITH GUTTER RATS!” Ursula growled like a real Mythosaur, feeling the remorse inside her heart grow every time her shots would hit one of the Empire's dogs, a remorse that continued to grow and grow, and she rarely missed any shot, she was nearly crying because of that, for the desire to look up her shoulder, to see the last one that fell to her gun. the exact moment when the lives of those slaughtered by her weapon twisted alongside their companions in screams of true horror, feeling every molecule of their bodies being sprayed from that plane of existence.
And when the whole area around her started to take heavy fire from machines not carried by common soldiers at the exact moment a red light started to shine inside her helmet making her happy expression turn into a frown as if that was something really boring.
“Ignore.”, She whispered saturated with that hellish gleam before her eyes, “Hey, Vadia.”, She called and the Valkyrie modified System replied.
“Good morning, mistress! How can I be of service in this fine day of yours? Would you like to hear some relaxing music? Research indicates that they are great for… ”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I want to know what that was just now. ”
"Do you mean the enemy fire that took the lives of twelve soldiers and your third cousin, Carine?"
"Wait, what?" Ursula asked, resting the gun on her shoulder and a gloved hand on her waist. “I have a cousin named Carine? Wow... I'm glad she died, that is a horrible name.”
“The shots were fired by a group of four tanks just ahead of the plateau. Can I suggest a change of course, mistress? ” Ursula tapped the gun three times on her shoulder as she thought about it, her lips curved into a pout as blasters fired at her energy shield. Her free hand then touched the part of her helmet where her forehead was, and supporting herself with her right foot against the ground, the mandalorian jumped and activated the jump boots, letting the navigation system on her implants control the direction of flight Ursula through the skies of the battlefield. And instead of following the Valkyrie System's advice, she fired like a comet in the direction of the tanks, trapping the disruptor in her waist holster as she continued to free-fall in the direction of the tank's cannon, now aimed directly at her.
And only when the vehicle fired did Ursula launch herself to the left, dodging the shot and whirling through the spiraling sky, raising her right arm at the last moment to fire the two wrist-rockets into the cannon's mouth. Burning the rest of the fuel from his boots away from the exact moment the vehicle exploded, laughing and falling from the skies onto an abandoned vehicle behind enemy lines, crushing the car body of some bastard Muun who fled the planet to avoid get caught in the middle of the crossfire. Laughing like a child on the morning of the day she was born, howling loudly at the soldiers around the smoke cloud with pure joy in her voice as the smoke still hung in the air, slowly dissipating.
“Did you guys saw that? By the love of Manda's metallic… ”, and that's when she dissipated and Ursula, for the first time in a long time, found herself with nothing to say.
"Mistress, it seems that you are surrounded by ... CALCULATING ... seventy soldiers from the army of the Sith Empire.", She remained silent while soldiers looked at her, as amazed as she was. "Would you be willing to listen to some relaxing music now?"
"Why not?" And with a quick gesture, she rose by turning her closed fists together with her body in a full circle, pouring the flames of the contraptions onto the wrists of her armor, just enough for them to move away and she could take the Tibanna-Air Grenade around her waist and toss it to her left while she jumped to the left, letting the auto-cannon on her shoulder cover her while Ursula started running through the soldiers away from there, just turning her head to see the exact moment that explosion of fire made the group of soldiers start trying to run for their lives.
Laughing at all that, Ursula leaned her back on an abandoned building while listening to some strange music on her implants, then interrupted by that damned red light again. “FINE! Play the damn thing already!”
“Alor Vizla do you read, this is Voi’kryt. Lock on to Captain Belisarius position and give them some cover, get your bosses up on those roof tops and give ‘in hell”
Ursula grabbed the disruptor once again from her waist and prepared, she lifted the gun over her shoulder and started to jump from side to side where she was, happy as a little brat.
“Vadia, did you hear that? I will save a captain. Soon, I will end up becoming Warmaster, or maybe a Governor!”
"I highly doubt it, mistress.", The machine replied but she did not hear it, Ursula continued to skip and think about days of joy and glory. "Should I send a message to the rest of your household?" "No ... Call Shereshoy and the boys."
"SENDING SHERESHOY, APPROXIMATE TIME OF 15 SECONDS." "Enough time to contemplate the origin of the universe.", She murmured to the artificial intelligence system. For some reason Ursula talked to the machine more than she talked to other people, or perhaps the machine she programmed understood her head better than other living beings.
"MOMMAAAAA ...", a mechanical growl proliferated in a strange way from the sky, and in front of Ursula Vizla landed a huge legacy machine from her home. A basilisk war droid black as sin, whose personality had been minimally codified by Firestorm. The mandalorian ran towards the droid, taking her hand to its head and starting to itch behind its 'ear', causing the metallic beast to twist and make strange noises.
“Who's a good mommy boy? Who is it? That's right, it's you! Who goes with Mommy to kill some bad boys and save a rich captain? It's you!” Said Ursula, mounting her droid, hitting her sides with her boots and making the creature shoot across the sky towards the coordinates sent to her, flying fast across the skies of the capital of the Muuns.
"Asset found, mistress.", Vadia spoke to Ursula shortly after and again tapping the heels of her boots against the creature's sides, Alor made the droid come down from the skies roaring profane metal sounds, to attract the attention of those pathetic creatures who were breaking into the damn hotel. And when she had descended enough that they could have a clear view of what it was flying over the area, Ursula waved and allowed her pet to start firing its laser cannons at the hotel's front without any rest, or even caring about what she was doing while the building was beginning to have its entire front damaged by the weapons in her toy.
| D A R K S T A R _ S Q U A D R O N | | Allies: | Irveric TavlarBelisarius
| Foes: | Open
| Squadron Cohesion: | High
Priority air strike missions came in faster than the speed of light. Grid coordinates, enemy disposition markers, and required ordnance readings filled Darkstars' HUDs within moments. As the augmented squadron descended upon the world of Muunilist, Major Byrric began to relay orders quickly. Any more time spent wasting breath meant that even more of their bucket-boys on the ground would be filling shallow graves. Some of them they could easily take, and others not so much. Thankfully, their Wing Commander from before had loaned out a couple of pilots from their sister squadron to back them up this time.
One of the readings on his HUD flashed bright read this time. Straight from the Imperator, or 'Overlord', sending an airborne company's request to the very top of their chain. It was something the native Darkstars could handle - but more than enough for their pair of TIE Maulers.
Meathook's voice came through clear and gruff. "Darkstar 5-1 and 2, break off and handle that. We'll be holding at Lima, Angels 10 for support."
"Gladius-2, this is Darkstar 5-1 checking in with you. Flight of two Maulers holding in area Lima, Angels 10. Twelve BLZ-97s and six thousand rounds for this section. Ready for tasking."
"Roger Darkstar 5-1, I am requesting immediate CAS at map grid CA315992, push to IP Irene. Standby for information. Over." The sounds of sporadic gunfire and muffled orders came through as clearly as his voice did.
"Solid copy. Map grip CA315992, pushing to IP Irene. Over."
The pair of TIE Maulers hauled ass with all of their lumbering might. Close attack craft ready to devastate entire armored columns or drop enormous payloads on unsuspecting infantry. This was their curtain call, and all Gladius-2 had to do was point things out for them.
"TOT 20, close-in fire support, non-standard. -1 to -12 then +4 to +2. Gun target line 050. I'm gonna talk you down to the target, copy?"
Darkstar 5-1 responded curtly, "Solid copy on all, go ahead. Over."
"North-east of our watching line by about 1.5 clicks, there's a hotel. Call contact?"
"Contact."
Now for the meat. "Your target is entrenched infantry in four buildings southwest to southeast of our hotel, a semicircle formation. Call contact?"
"Darkstar has contact on all. We are passing IP Irene rolling into heading 050."
The TIE Maulers screamed through the sky at breakneck speed. Beneath them was a fast-growing wasteland of smoke, fire, and blasterfire. Even from their lofty height could they still hear the sound of artillery shells whistling through the sky, and the sound of lives being extinguished below. Their weapons racks pleasantly chimed ready. Their targeting modules found those buildings. Thumbs itched to toggle the release button and send those bastards to hell.
"Bring the rain," Gladius-2 came.
"Darkstar off safe. Mavericks away, mavericks away." The lead pilot almost cheerfully exclaimed. He thumbed the release for his six blazer bombs in unison, sending them rocketing towards his pair of buildings.
His wingman was close to follow. "5-2 off safe. Mavericks away, mavericks away." Again, six more bombs screamed through the air towards the last of the buildings.
They didn't even get to see their handiwork. The TIE Maulers zipped by overhead as the deafening explosions of their payloads found their marks. The flight veered off, flying a safer distance away just in case a second pass was needed.
"Darkstar 5-1 egressing northeast. Standing by for damage assessment."
Taeli Raaf
Aerarii Tithe
Madelyn Lowe
Darth Argentum
Obinmiux R'avfa
Jyon Hlervu
Amur
Sila
Darth Kados
Lirka Ka
Darth Ophidia
Maiven
Jekadius Lawson
Imperial Warlord Zovesa
Vaulkhar
Darth Bellum
Darth Kentarch
Avernus
Gat Tambor
Ignatius
Kyrel Ren
Cara Dalgas
(Sorry if I missed or mistakenly tagged anyone)
