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Sitting looking at the chaotic scenery beyond the thick glass of the command bridge, Lunafreya could see ships destroying ships, fighters cruising fast and bombers looking for points to do as much damage as they could against the enemies of the Sith Empire. It was curious to think that somewhere in space, perhaps not far from there, absolutely nothing was happening, children were playing on the grass, fathers got up early for work while meals were planned lovingly by their mothers and much more beyond those stars, crossing by nebulas and systems of planets ruled by strange races was home. The jewel of the splendor of its people, Kaikielius, the first home of the elzeri after the abandonment of the great ancient pilgrimage through space.
The elzeri was seated in the command chair, above officers and operatives, her eyes closed for an instant while her face rested gently on the palm of her gloved hand touching her chin. Sold by her father to a king, Lunafreya seemed to be handling this better than she expected, she couldn't remember the time in her childhood that she didn't dream of leaving her planet and life in the decadent monarchy of the Tapani Sector, and now that she had accomplished this, as her sister Ashelia had achieved, but now all she could find wherever she went in that vast galaxy filled with millions of sentient beings was disorder and chaos.
Endless wars fought by monarchs and despots maddened by power and whim, and while the New Imperial Order struggled to restore stability and continuity to galactic life, others also fought for justice and freedom. It was the founder of Casa Solidor who had famously said when he ascended the throne: 'War is an endless road, full of curves and shoulders, but it never ends', she wondered if her sister felt the same way, wherever that she was.
"My princess, they have arrived.", She heard the familiar voice of Podrick, her squire, murmuring softly on her right side, so close that she could smell the mint on her breath. He remained standing behind the command chair, at a safe distance from Lunafreya's pets, and as she opened her eyes to face the command bridge again, she noticed the unpleasant silhouette of Captain Lothor Macduff, standing and staring at the elf in search of answers.
"May I ask what it is about, princess?", And choosing to completely ignore the presence of that unpleasant being in her eyes, Lunafreya rose from the command chair, she did so slowly, almost lazily.
"Operative, open a channel for the Valkyria Squad.", She waited a moment, with her hands crossed on the back of her body. Holding them tightly and standing upright, with her proud posture and her face bathed in the natural grace of her people as she watched four holographic figures appear before her eyes, all women, two of them were elzeri, one was a miraluka and the another was a rattataki, these were known as the Four Bestias. “This is an order from Lunafreya Nabaat Solidor, Second Princess of the Interstellar Protectorate for the Captains of the Valkyria Squadron: Natanis Beauclair, Vara Novigrad, Salma Picard and Portia Calogera! Battle Formation Xevek, Level Five, the enemy is the Sith Empire and under my authority I authorize the use of full force. Deploy every vessel, take down every ship and crush this scum! ”
“Yes, my lord!”, All four responded immediately at once before hanging up and around Engaged, as shown on the open map in front of Lunafreya the corvettes took up positions at four different points, like an 'x' where at its center was the ship now held by Princess Lunafreya.
“Who is that in that huge ship right there?”
“That would be the Epitaph II, my lady.”, The captain replied, still standing like a fool behind her. "Commanded by Grand Vizier Tyrell Paxxus."
She remained silent for a long moment, her gaze remained fixed on the Grand Vizier ship as her mind considered the possibilities before her. Should Solidor maintain its position in the defense of Mygeeto? Or should she offer support to others? Teamwork was something that Lunafreya lacked in a way, consulting her memory on this issue, she pouted a little before offering the solution.
"Dispatch the fighters and bombers against the nearest ships, keep going to the center of the battlefield." She then turned her attention to the human behind her. "You. Lead your team and offer support for Epitaph II. ”
"Yes, ma'am.", She then walked slowly to her seat and nodded for the captain to begin the attack on the nearest enemy ships.
"Attack with everything we have to pave the way, send the smaller ships to our vanguard to offer support for our endeavor." She relaxed her arms in the command chair, making herself more comfortable. "Order the Valkyria 1 to drop all proton bombs against your right and for the Valkyria 2 to increase its position by 5 knots, otherwise it will break the formation." She let out a long breath after that, tilting her head to the left side in the most comfortable part of her seat, the fingers of her right hand sliding down her thick thigh to the hilt of her weapon, gently stroking her old friend. "I should have landed on the planet. At least I would see the sights..."
Caide watched the arc of the baton in slow motion. The soldier was trying to get information, giving him the option to block or evade, in order to get a read on his combat style. Clever opening move. Hell, Caide might have done the same. But he had one key difference with the soldier in front of him: Mazrim Caide was stubborn. At the last second, he tilts his head just barely out of the way of the baton as he steps in, grunting as the electrified metal smashing into his collarbone. Caide feels the bone creak and crack, his armor just barely stopping it from breaking completely as he torques his hips to deliver a pulverizing punch to his opponent’s liver. He quickly grapples him and pulls him close to whisper harshly through clenched teeth, the pain making his voice rougher and more violent than it normally is.
“Beautiful shot. But this is war, there’s no place for beauty here.”
Caide shoves him away, Glaring at him through his one eye, his eyepatch soaked with sweat. He rolls his shoulder uncomfortably where he was struck.
“Do you really think you’re the first person to believe your war is justified? Do you think you’ll be the last?”
With that, he puts his hands down and waits for a response, circling like a shark, making sure to stand just a little too close for FN-999 to pull his blaster.
The Winds whipped at my battle kama. Typically used by Troopers, or worn in conjunction with upper robes. Instead, many would find me dressed without any upper body clothing. Just straight black skin all the way up to my mask. Where it split to what seemed to be a natural olive skin tone of my people. While now It was almost completely covered in white from snow, with a few patches of white and grey from the active camo. The lightsaber held deftly in my hand as I walked out. There would likely not be any much in the way of single troopers near our own enforcement. However, the sound of ships flying over head, attempting to strike at anything that moved could be heard.
Slamming down hard upon the bridges, You could barely make out vessels and ships screaming into the ground. My eyes peering through the snow in infrared to see many heat signatures among our own front. A mass majority were sprinting ahead and into battle against others along the bridge of No-mans Land. It was an extremely difficult fight. One of only a few fulcrums, or Choke points in which any of the forces among the battle could move through by foot.
Aerial runs were nearly even more impossible due to the damage of sensor based systems, or Jamming gear meant to take out our communication suites. However, the nice thing about my own, is it was built to defend and work against Jamming systems. A multitude of items would allow me to interpret calls out for aid, or calls for reinforcements.
"F-First Brother inbound to link up with Second Brother. Second Brother, what is your position?"
I sighed just a little. As much as I would have loved to join the front lines to be able prove the Imperial Knights were at a disadvantage with the lack of the force, First Brother was contacting for my position. His own call was breaking up. Likely close enough to the Sith-Imperial Side of the Bridge that he was being hit and would be targeted by them any moment. He was an Inquisitor such as myself. However, much younger than our Executioner, or myself. We could not afford to lose someone who was within our ranks. The Imperial Knights were known by the Thousands it seemed. However, we were short in number for a reason.
"Stay put Brother. Moving in this storm will end up with you on the wrong side. I will come to you."
It was completely true of what I told him. Moving in this storm. Having two or more parties trying to coordinate could end up with us firing on one another. I wanted to avoid that, and if his troopers were down, he was alone and should not be attempting any Heroics. I would rather see him alive and fight another day, than loose a potential savant within the force to stupidity as the Sith tend to do.
"Zovesta, Going after First Brother. I will pull one Squad to aid me out into Bridge One. If we are not back in 20 Minutes, Expect some extra Coffins for home."
I was serious. I would see to it that we get this man home. Not compassion, no heroics. I wanted purely by the numbers of the Inquisition. He was a valuable Asset to us. While our Leader was out killing swaths, I would provide backup to whomever needed it. Speaking of, I walked directly up to a
Lieutenant. His Helmet looked at me for a moment through the snow then did a double take. Realizing who I was and who I was with just from appearance alone. Saluting me as though I were his Commander.
"I need a Squad of men ready for combat. Going after a downed allied vessel on Bridge one." "Sir, that is No-man-" "I know what it is. Your Squad, my men, and myself will all be going out there." "Very well Sir. Any equipment we should bring?" "Climbing gear, one with demolitions, and a Squad weapon." "You expecting to hold somewhere?" "I don't expect anything. I prepare for it." "Aye Sir."
Turning around with an about face, he almost started to run to his men. Gathering everything when I turned around to the Cybermen behind me. They were all prepared and geared up already. However, I wanted to reiterate to them."
"Going after First Brother. Keep weapons hot. Stealth is Key for the moment. We don't want to Alert the Sith that we are in the open." "Crystal Clear." "Good."
The Lieutenant rushed over to me, 11 men including himself. Two teams made a Squad. They had Two Grenadiers. One carrying a Warhead Launcher, the other carrying a Chain Blaster. Two Automatic Rifleman who Carried Rotary Blasters, One Sniper who of course carried a Sniper rifle. and the rest were Rifleman Troopers each carrying the Standard Rifle. The Lieutenant himself was carrying the Chainblaster as well. All were geared for complete war if they needed. Which was good. I could see the Standard armor for most of them, while the Sniper and some rifleman were geared with Scout Armor. All nodding their heads and making last checks.
"Alright, Let's go get our man."
Walking out towards the bridge, I made a call to the First brother. Making it very clear what was going to happen.
"Headed your way. Stay hidden, stay with the ship. Only attack if you are spotted. ETA in Five."
Within the deep chasm that divided the Sith-Imperial armada with the New Imperial Order, another series of explosions rocked through the field of battle. Within the communications that filled Aagenti’s flagship, another radio report relayed some desperate message, hollowed faces looking past the direct communications as the words hit their ears. Even for hardened officers, to hear perhaps one of the worst deaths possible in progress was an experience once could surmount, save for all but the most heartless of those in that room, who still kept their heads bowed out of respect and took control while the other officers recollected themselves.
”Designation 2, I repeat, Amgevesta Squadron just lost another ship! Formation is broken, Captain is dead, I’m the last one left…” It was a lonely outcry, forlorn in hope and yet still fighting relentlessly against those who threatened Mygeeto’s defense. Within the cockpit of the Interceptor’s craft, a single pilot kept his eyes forward, rocked and battered by blaster fire with fading power. His face twisted forward as he felt the revelation that this would be his last, and with a single cry through the coms, the tiny interceptor raced towards one of the many Corvettes of Tyrell Paxxus’s fleets, desperation and anger dancing a dangerous dance.
In the distance from the tower where Aagenti stood, perhaps he could’ve seen the Ion bolt collide with the Interceptor. It spiraled out of control, slamming into the hull of the ship in a rocking blast of shrapnel and engine fire. All around, the battle waged on, though Aagenti couldn’t have helped but bow his head in respect to the pilot’s actions. On a much grander scale, perhaps he felt the same things the pilot was feeling; anger, defiance, desperation, and a revelation that this might not be something he’d walk away from. All the while, Tyrell’s guns turned towards his arriving fleet, a hail fire of shots slamming into the great bubble of energy that surrounded the two Battlecruisers.
Though, he kept his face as stoic as ever, his eyes once again dissecting the situation while, around the two Battlecruisers, the Longbow frigates aligned their Railgun cannons, two setting their sights on one of the three Corvettes Paxxus controlled, while another set their aim upon one of the many Corvettes under Admiral Sularen’s control. Within the Force Aagenti could feel the power of the heavy cannons charging up, and pointing a hand forward, Aagenti would squint, uttering a command that was repeated by the whole of his crew towards the frigates.
”Tell the Longbows to fire at will.” In tandem, three simultaneously lances of crimson-red energy raced through the vast expanse, moving soundlessly through the blue bubble protecting Aagenti’s ship from Ion fire, and racing through the bleak expanse, a few stray ships caught within the lances of energy as they moved to slam into the three targets. Reports continued to fold in, however, of the damages of the Sith fighters - not even minutes into the fight, and already a handful of ships within space destroyed.
Within the atmosphere, the Ace fighters did not fare much better, nimble interceptors dancing with the on the TIEs and, while having issues with the dexterity and nimbleness of the crafts, managed to not only hit and wound but hit and kill. The Captain of the push felt her own craft just barely glanced by one of Paxxus’s interceptors, though some reprieve was offered by the fact that Sularen had not deployed noticeable aerial forces to counter their attempt to cut off the hold above Mygeeto. It brought no true joy, however, as in front of her another ship from another squadron was brought down, completely vaporized in a flash of green and orange that she flew seamlessly through. It sickened her to some degree, but she only grimaced, leaning forward as she took control of her uncoordinated squadron once again.
”Alright boys, these Trandoshans think they can scare us, but they haven’t got us down yet. They’re fast, but we’ll just have to fire faster. We’re the first ones here, and we’ll show all of ‘em why we’ll be the last ones out.” The Captain had never been much of a public speaker, but to the atmospheric squadrons, it was a small modicum of comfort and a driving prod that kept the remainders focused. Despite the nimbleness of the Interceptors, the TIEs kept their aims steady and true, blasting through the ships that intervened and continuing their assault on any ships moving through the atmospheric line.
As the battle wore on, Aagenti watched the trading of red and green flares, an aurora of bolts and explosions rocking the empty expanse. The stations, now fully engaged, emptied the last of their reserves, and the countless swarm of robotic ships set to targeting the heavier ships of Tyrell and Sularen, though with Sularen’s heavy Ion fire against any ships who neared his vessels, the assaults were quickly and safely dealt with, entire squadrons of the droids destroyed within moments of approaching the heavy artillery defending the NIO Admiral’s fleets. However, their momentary divergence of attention enabled some of the few heavy frigates to get close enough to begin laying down returning fire on the ships, taking blows in turn as much as they dealt them.
All the while, the heavy Darkstar fortresses continued to aim towards any who got near, heavy armaments blasting through a squadron of bombers that drew close, the engineers within racing to man the entire station and keep the bay doors closed to prevent infiltration from NIO forces. The smaller Darkpyre stations did manage to hold their own, but as a skilled squadron of pilots drew near, one station was battered, an Ion bomb sent straight through an open hangar bay and decimating a large portion of the station. With every ounce of reserve power that the engineers could muster, they kept the station running, in hopes that they would be able to get the backup they needed.
Such a hope was futile, and through such grit they kept a large portion of the squadron at bay, a single torpedo tore through the last of the station’s defenses. There was no call for SOS, as the ship combusted, blowing from the center and only continuing up and down until nothing but rumble remained from the station. Many more lives lost, and yet Aagenti’s machine never faltered, continuing forward while the silent lord kept watch over it all. His hands clasped behind his back, he watched over it all, reigning almighty yet lacking all measure of control. He had no fear that the Sith would lose, but he questioned the cost of what it would take to stand against the two fleets combined.
From a side terminal, however, a young woman went wide-eyed, and like dominos a new energy filled the room, worry and surprise. The young technician moved from her seat, walking over to Aagenti. ”My Lord… there’s been a development. Another fleet is rising from Mygeeto to join the fight, and we’re taking casualties at a rate higher than expected for the confrontation. Admiral Sularen is turning their focus onto our fight.”
Aagenti would look down at the gathered room before out across the vast expanse. As the battle continued, more and more the stories played out, explosions blossoming across the field, some far too close for comfort to the barrier, cracks spiraling outwards among the blue bubble of energy. It would hold, but with Sularen’s Ion guns mixed with the bombers, the Athena’s energy was quickly running out, and it would not be long before the Anathema herself would be thrust into the heart of the fray. Hoping for a passive stance, Aagenti’s wishes were struck down as swiftly as a convicted man.
Clearing his throat as he took a deep breath, now more than ever he needed to be the rock that those gathered around him could rely upon. Plans had to be changed, and he had fully prepared for such actions, and the consequences of running in as he did. Turning towards the Admiral, the gaunt man rose from his chair while the young technician returned to her post, coordinating once more the hive of starfighters throwing themselves at a seemingly unbreakable threat. They would not back down, and neither would he.
”Admiral, how many ships do we have in reserve that can be here within the time we can manage to remain in this fight?” Aagenti turned to the admiral, stepping down to his level. He was an inch or two shorter than the man, but he carried the same presence that the other Councillors did - a presence projected beyond form. He stared straight into the man’s eyes, and the Admiral did his best to meet the crimson gaze.
”Many of our fleets are securing a blockade around Mygeeto and Muunilist, preventing another charge outside these two systems, and many of our spare are above Muunilist, deemed a far more valuable asset than Mygeeto. At beast, we could have perhaps a duet of Destroyers and a full outfit within reasonable tim-“
”Good, hail them down and inform them that the Councillor Aagenti has put you in direct charge of their position. I suspect they shouldn’t have any issue with such a command.” Aagenti would move to stride over towards the Admiral’s terminal, losing up files and swiftly tearing apart in-put plans and procedures while piecing together a new command that could be sent, following a line of coordinates along a secure channel. Stepping back, Aagenti turned away from the admiral, back to his pedestal.
”Send those statements to the two current commanders of those vessels, and follow that plan through, Admiral. Their fate is in your hands now.” Aagenti didn’t turn back to face the man, looking once more outside as Lunafreya’s forces came into view. Amidst the fight, a single lone corvette broke order, moví towards the line that Lunafreya was attempting to build up,bolts blasting through the vessel more and more until eventually it was hollowed from its original form. It was a desperate maneuver, but it was brave.
”Hail the starfighters, and get them to draw their fight closer to our vessels. Keep the Longbows steady on the positions of the Grand Vizier and Admiral Sularen - if they wish to meet us, then let us greet them with heavy ordinance in turn. As for the Anathema… activate our guns, and have the Athena focus her shields on Potentate. They may have the grit that we lack, but the Anathema more than has the firepower to back up the firefight.” There was a collective nod from the technicians, as slowly the guns of the Anathema moved into life, all at once defensive turrets changing targets towards aggressors getting too close, while the heavier cannons prepared to fire at the same targets the Longbows kept in their sights.
From the deck of the ship, Aagenti closed his eyes and took a deep breath. In the distance the lone Corvette collided with one of Lunafreya’s ships, a final call going out as the ship combusted, a series of explosions marking each dozens of lives lost, before eventually the ship went silent as the reactor went. From where he stood, Aagenti could feel the shockwave rock through him through the lens of the Force, and he hoped that such a sacrifice would not be in vain.
Aagenti’s smaller craft hold back and focus their energy in distracting the main brunt of the enemy fleets
Longbow Frigates firing towards Paxxus and Sularen’s Corvettes
Atmospheric team is holding strong, taking some casualties though
Stations are beginning to come into play, satellites online and firing; some station casualties
Aagenti enacted emergency plans to bring in backup as a result of changing expectations (New objective)
Athena Frgate focuses on protecting the Protectate BC; Anathema starts up an aggressive defense; Longbows prepare to fire again
Corvette sacrificing itself to try to break up Lunafreya’s defensive formation
The man's fist knocked the wind out of FN-999, sending him staggering backwards, baton flailing.
Clearly, FN-999 had underestimated his foe. He had the agility to prevent his head from being split by FN-999's baton, and the vitality to absorb the blow with his shoulder armor alone. He could tell from the tightening of his foe's body that he had been in pain, yet he had been able to land a powerful blow regardless. Furthermore, upon closer inspection, it seemed as if his adversary had an eyepatch over his right eye. Yet even with his impairment, he had been fully capable of matching FN-999 blow for blow. For once, FN-999 was fighting an enemy of his caliber.
Upon being pushed out of the man's grab, FN-999 swiftly regrouped. He tightened his grip around his baton, securing the electrified blade with both gloved hands.
“Do you really think you’re the first person to believe your war is justified? Do you think you’ll be the last?”
"What hypocrisy." spat out FN-999, making no attempt to hide the contempt in his voice. "You oppose the military actions of my nation's leaders, yet you have bathed in the blood of my comrades mere minutes before my arrival. Scum like you makes me sick."
"But before I eliminate you, I'd like your name."
Noticing his adversary once again closing the distance between them, FN-999 prepared a second attack. He was too close for him to fire upon with his rifle, yet he was most certainly within range of his baton. Aside from a small, thin line of gray created from the man's knife peeling off the paint of the baton, it was as fresh as it was when he first picked it up nearly fifteen years prior. The baton had been with him for almost as long as he had been a soldier, and it had even outlived the First Order that created it. It had not failed him even when the First Order had, and it would not fail him today either.
FN-999 lunged forwards, baton firmly gripped in his left hand. In the blink of an eye, he put his right hand over his left and swung his baton from a position parallel to and above his left shoulder. The man's eyepatch gave FN-999 an advantage - even with a soldier's intuition, his right flank would likely be more vulnerable than his left. He swung his baton toward's the man's right, aiming for his right cheekbone. If the blow connected, then it would likely shatter the frail cheekbones found in most humanoids.
If FN-999 was lucky, his blow might even burst the man's weak right eye like a bubble, painfully and graphically removing him of the burden of carrying around a dead organ.
Elsewhere, the 426th Platoon continued their charge. Many of them were First Order veterans from FN-999's old squad, battle-hardened and well-diciplined. Running from cover to cover, they slowly pinned down the Sith forward defenders in the immediate area, assisting their comrades and legion in their goal. With their lieutenant occupied, the semi-indepdendent platoon was quickly absorbed into the First Legion and advanced in front of the armored divisions they were clearing a path for. Occasionally, an abandoned landmine or hidden sniper would eliminate a trooper. But for the most part, the platoon remained strong.
The battle on Mygeeto continued to rage on, soldiers of either side fighting and dying for clashing ideals in the pale embrace of death that covered the battlefront. Marshal Zovesa along with her troops had pressed forward, either completely unaware of the fact that even with the reinforcements, that the brute force charge she was leading would not be enough to break the Sith Empire's entrenched front on the main bridge. This detail was purposefully withheld from the young Force Knights commander in order to deceive the enemy into believing that it would be a last-ditch move of desperation with their recent acquisition of reinforcements. Whether she lived or died was of little consequence to the hardened Anzati general. What mattered were results; and if the commander of the Force Knights was forced to retreat and goad the enemy into pressing their advantage, then it would be to their benefit. He had already received confirmation from his Dragoons that everything was set and awaiting further instruction for when the time came to push.
Vexen's gaze shifted from the main bridge network as the secondary bridge network was starting to encounter greater resistance. An interesting tactic that would indeed prove to be a great boon to the Sith Empire if they were to succeed in overwhelming the flank leaving the rear of the main force assaulting the main bridge vulnerable. That would be troublesome indeed. Vexen stood upright as he turned to a pair of tall armored figures. The Gen'dai brothers - Rive and Guile, his faithful subordinates that followed and served him even after he had been branded a traitor, stepping up to fill the void left by Vexen's previous second in command, that had been slain by his own hand. " Guile, you are to remain here and direct our forces where needed. Rive, accompany me, and do what you do best...Slaughter them. " The two Gen'dai responded in unison, Guile's voice speaking with cold indifference through telepathy while Rive's raspy and harsh voice chuckled out his response, " Yes sir... " And thus marked Vexen's departure from the command center and out into the blizzard - to the battlefront where he claimed dominion over.
==========================
The stormtrooper lieutenant pressed himself against the makeshift barriers that had been erected to serve as cover on the bridge, the blizzard obscuring his vision as he was only able to rely on the IFF signatures that were in his HUD for visibility. The Sith had been making a slow but hard push along the secondary bridge network, threatening to break through as their defenses were beginning to crumble under the assault of hostile troopers and Sith reinforcements, the only thing presently holding the advance up and slowing the enemy being the tanks barraging the bridge. The lieutenant cursed under his breath as a stray blaster bolt whizzed past his head, the stormtrooper seeing a hostile trooper vaulting over the wall, unaware of the soldier. The lieutenant tossed his rifle off to the side as he unholstered his sidearm, sending a trio of bolts into the enemy's back as he turned to fire a few more bolts towards the Sith Empire's advancing forces, raising his free arm up as he spoke into his communicator, " This is Lieutenant Piker! Sith Imperial forces are pressing forward and we are unable to hold! Fall back, fall back!"
The transmission was interrupted by the vocoded voice of Vexen , a single order uttered in a cold tone, " Hold your positions. " A familiar, primal, and gnawing sense of hunger and dread would ripple out across those present on the secondary bridge network. The order was followed by the silhouette of a destroyed tank husk being thrown in the air, well past the friendly positions of the New Imperial Order, directed via the Force as it rammed into a squad of advancing troops rolling on its side, crushing them underneath, creating yet another bit of cover that the New Imperial Forces could use as well as obstructing a portion of the bridge. The armored figure of Kor Vexen appeared, accompanied by an even larger armored Gen'dai wielding a massive vibrosword on his shoulder. Behind them, fresh imperial stormtroopers to reinforce the present forces.
Vexen would give a nod to the Gen'dai that accompanied him as they seemed to roll their head to stretch before they ran forward at a surprising speed, wielding their massive vibrosword in both hands as they viciously swung at enemy troops. The serrated blade cleaved enemies in two as the backswing rammed the blunt edge and shattered bones on impact, sending enemies flying into the abyss screaming, whipping the Gen'dai into a bloody frenzy as he essentially threw himself at the enemy without fear of death. Vexen's own lightsaber would ignite, a flash of violet light at his side, advancing forward as he moved to meet the enemy head-on, lightsaber deflecting blaster bolts as he protected the troops pushing behind him.
I will be engaging Obinmiux and Jyon directly on Bridge B, so I apologize to those of TSE that are present as well. You are more than welcome to use the NPC Rive as your punching bag if you are without a partner, I will make sure he gives you all just as pressing of a time to keep you occupied for our time on the bridge as well as directing NIO's actions on Bridge B.
As usual, most of the fighting passed in a blur. Still, it was rather sickening, moving several hundred kilometers an hour but perceiving it as someone normal moving at that speed. He was reminded of why he preferred normal Force speed. Why had he allowed Zovesa to convince him to do this? He was definitely going to die on this bike. When he did, he'd blame her.
The sound of that Jedi's voice broke through the fuzz of Dorian moving at ludicrous speeds and poking things with his lance. For a moment he was confused -- how was he speaking to him? It was difficult to hear things with the air ripping past him. Oh, right, comms. It was so odd, speaking to someone far away... well, Dorian was pretty bad at telepathy, but he could manage. They were up... Dark Lord... wait, Carnifex? Oh-ho-ho, Dorian was not trying that again. <<"Don't even think about it, kid. The Emperor would rip you in half.">> Seeing Carnifex fight a non-lethal battle in the ring was one thing, but on the battlefield? Dorian wasn't scared of anything, but that thought was enough to make him pee his pants. Thankfully he'd taken a whiz before the mission.
In the meantime, they had other targets. Bounty hunters and a Sith. Dorian had already decided that he'd take on the Sith. One-on-one, obviously, because only the worst Sith hid behind legions and minions. He'd met the worst Sith, anyways -- AMCO
had been a formidable opponent, but he hadn't been a warrior. Dorian had been itching for a blood duel with a Sith ever since the tournament. Specifically not with Carnifex, though.
As they rounded the corner he immediately sensed the emotions Karis was pouring out -- only for it to be drowned out as his senses in the Force screamed of the danger ahead. The blaster fire and rockets shot towards him, and he finally let out what he'd been holding in.
The attacks approached, but to Dorian they seemed to slow along with everything else nearby. He managed to tear himself off his bike and out of the way, tumbling to the side of the road, then slipping into a nearby alleyway, out of sight of Imperial forces further down the road. To most it seemed like he'd just disappeared from his bike, or perhaps been vaporized by the blaster bolts. The Jedi was clearly drawing their attention, and spoke into the comms, telling them they needed to retreat...
Dorian finally ditched the helmet that had been squeezing his brain for the past ten minutes, then shifted his grip on his spear, comforted by having it in both hands with him. This was fine... retreating was not. <<"Don't think you've noticed, but if we're gonna fight them we're gonna need to close the distance.">> The warrior moved closer to the corner, squatting and peeking around the side of the alleyway. One of the Imperial's must have spotted him next -- a volley of blaster bolts forced him to get back fully into cover.
"Can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered to himself, then spoke to Karis again. <<"You got a plan, or are we just gonna sit here until they shoot down the buildings?">>
We have it all \\ Bridge network one, several stories below Imperial Warlord Zovesa
's main assault, opposite Lirka Ka
and her forces \\ New Imperial Order, Force Corps Auxilia platoon Castus and three other platoons \\ A third of the way over the bridge \\ 56/56
Visibility was poor. They'd fought during the height of Mygeeto's flippant weather before, but today the Force seemed to will it to go that extra distance. He could just make out Liran, the trooper in lead, as the corporal put his first foot on the bridge itself. Out of all of them, he had the best eyes, by far. Could have easily been a sniper, but chose to stay with Castus with his friends, Victor and Gaen, both of whom were trailing only a few feet behind him.
"Liran, report. And slow down a little, visibility's approaching zero, can't have you dropping out of my sight." Farwell spoke into the platoon's private comms channel.
"Not much out there, sir. Recon's report seems accurate. Initial landmarks match up one-to-one." The trooper's voice came back, the slightest hint of static crackled over the normally crystal clear comms, a side effect of the blizzard.
"Keep your eyes peeled, corporal."
"Aye sir, will do."
Cameron's attention shifted away from the corporal and towards the rusted glow beyond the railings that pierced the blizzard from several hundred metres below the platform and bridge. The reminder of the burning floor of crashed shipwrecks that now called the canyon below these bridges their home did little to ease the anxiety he felt about having to cross them when visibility was this low. Breaches in the bridge's surface caused by falling debris, explosive fire, or previously unrecorded damage would all remain practically invisible in all this snow. They'd encountered these nature-grown traps before. Thin sheets of ice growing over and into holes and fractures in a bridge covered with snow remained undetectable until you stepped on one and broke a leg or worse, fell right through. The only reassurance that remained in the case of their bridge in particular was the comparative lack of action it had seen. Still, with all the debris that had hurtled down and without a more detailed report of bridge integrity, they had to simply keep going and hope that such a fate didn't creep up on them.
The actual bridge was wide enough to allow all four of the platoons to march in loose formations without having to bottleneck themselves in any particularly gruesome ways. Castus took the lead, with Revenant heading up the rear. Thorn and Sunder made up the bulk of their formation's centre, bleeding into the other two platoons here and there. Amongst Castus, Cameron remained as the fourth to the front. It was important that he was able to be close enough to the action to always be aware of what was happening before the bulk of his platoon. In live combat, the extra seconds of someone reporting and describing the approximate direction of the encounter could cost good troopers their lives. Cameron made it a priority to always work with first-hand intel on their situation, even if it exposed him to a greater measure of risk than was perhaps necessary for a platoon commander.
He finally made his own first step onto the bridge, claiming the first few inches of ground he'd see in this assault. The advance of their platoon was wholly masked by the gales of glacial wind. Though, conversely, so was their enemy. Somewhere, several hundred feet opposite of them, an unknown number of Sith Legionnaires stood ready to fire at anything that moved into their field of vision. They had the option of remaining static as the defenders, bestowed with the advantage of the first shot. That initial tactical discrepancy could be somewhat offset, however, by a meticulous and steady advance, given enough cover. Their platoons intended to make full use of that fact as they silently would silently make their way as close to the Sith as the storm allowed.
Reports had indicated there were several fortified defensive emplacements on the Sith side of the bridge. Tough nuts that had to be cracked open before the New Imperial Order could make headway into the Sith Imperial Banking Clan Vaults, the place where their true objective lie as well as their conclusive victory in the Southern Mesas. The siege had lasted two long months already, but it hadn't been a constant stalemate. Though the Sith had been nothing but fierce in their defence, the Imperial's push had managed to put them on the back foot. Cut off from immediate reinforcements, this was the Order's chance to push the Sith off the planet and claim the first stepping stone on their way to liberate the terrorized innocents still caught in the Dark Side's grasp.
Those thoughts of liberation kept coursing through Cameron's mind as Castus platoon continued forging ahead into the white unknown. On the bridge, there was only one way for them to go. No matter how his men and women may have felt about the inexorable bloodshed ahead, they were at least united by the singular purpose they now pursued. Move forward, take that bridge no matter the cost, then take the stars to set them free.
All troopers paused for a moment as their gazes were drawn to the skies. The impossibly bright fires aboard one of their own ships were illuminating the skies above, quickly coming closer and shooting past the bridge only to culminate in a grand fireball that cast away the cyclone of frost around a set of towers. The muted blast rumbled through the canyon as the brief blaze burned up as quickly as it appeared. It left behind a crater, its metal carcass held within, that continued to burn brightly through the heavy winds that came to obscure it.
"Holy shit." One of Castus breathed into the comms channel.
Cameron's brows furrowed for a moment as he returned his gaze to the bridge ahead. His troops had seen worse tragedies on battlefields across Wild Space and the Outer Rim. The devastating loss of life and material of an assault ship falling to its permanent grave on the surface of a planet should be nothing new to them. He figured it was just nerves. Couldn't blame the kid.
"Do we open fire, sir?" It took the question of one of the sergeants to draw his attention to what was the trooper's true motive for exclaiming his surprise.
Sitting high up atop the massive support structures on either side of the bridge were dark beasts made of oily shadow. Their red eyes had been tracking the troopers ever since they first left the tower, he realized, their black-furred forms masked from view by the absence of all visibility within the storm. They stood as anubian hounds of judgement peering down upon a herd of prey. Briefly revealed by the turbulence left behind by the massive assault ship's descent, they were waiting for the perfect opportunity to leap into the fray and strike out at whichever animal revealed its weakness first.
Cameron could feel his heart rate increase as a shiver ran down his spine. The grip on his blaster tightened as he resumed his pace up the bridge. For now, the creatures remained as observers but had he and his troops continued their advance ignorant of the threats above them there was little in the way of telling what wholesale slaughter the hounds would have caused by cutting off their retreat.
"Not yet, we want to use the advantage of zero visibility for as long as possible. Just keep movin' forward." With a brief tap on his wrist, he changed his broadcasting parameters to include the other platoon leads. "Garyth, keep some of your squads' weapons trained on those support beams. Got unknown creatures up there acting as wild cards. We don't want our way back blocked if they turn out to be hostile."
"Copy that." Came Revenant-actual's brief response.
The sound of battle above continued to echo throughout the artificial canyon of the mesa. Screeching metal sang its hideous melody as the chaotic staccato of gunfire overlayed with artillery filled any gaps of what could otherwise have been the peaceful howls of icy winds. From the sound of it, the other assaults were already deeply entrenched in battle. The death toll had already begun to be paid by both sides. Cameron only hoped that their side would be the ones to pay the price more merciful as he continued to set one foot in front of the other in the snow.
Up ahead the dark forms of two burnt-out battle tank revealed themselves through the white curtain as the first major landmark. They had made it about a third of the way over the bridge. Liran, Victor, and Gaen had taken up position next to the second war machines' husks, waiting for Cameron to link up with them. Behind him, the rest of Castus was keeping steady pace, with the other platoons keeping close behind.
When he finally reached the first of the destroyed tanks, he crouched down to lean against its blackened tracks. Taking the opportunity to let the rest of the troops catch up, he peered out towards the bridges above. The bright light of lasers crossing from either side interspersed with glaring explosions painted a scene of the savagery that would soon fall upon them just the same. He let out a long breath as he took in the faint lights above, contemplating the hell of it all. All the suffering and pain, a cruel sacrifice to make for the freedom from the sinister machinations of the Sith, but one that they had no say in. If not them, then who would there be to stand against that tyranny?
Inevitably, the time came to press on. He returned to the present, looking back to see dozens of black visors creeping ever closer to his position. Wordlessly he turned to the three troopers huddled close to the second tank wreckage. He met gazes with Gaen, bringing up his arm to sign to the vanguard that their orders were to move out into no man's land once more. The trooper gave him a nod in response and pat Victor on the shoulder, who in turn did the same to Liran. He watched the three break their stillness and move out into the unknown of the vortex.
There was a lot of courage in what they did, moving towards the barrels of their foes through these conditions. It made him want to weep over the senselessness of it all. How could he reconcile the danger that he put them in with his own conscience? For him to hide behind the safety of his rank was forced cowardice in his mind. He had to keep reminding himself that it was the burden of the commander to live while his men died. The memory of those stripes on the master sergeant's helmet came to him once more. He glanced back to the rest of his platoon. He admired all of their braveness. The resolve they displayed built the foundation for his own. It was their strength that gave him the ability to take those steps across the bridge, to guide them through this as best he could. Keeping them alive was the only way he knew to repay them for that unbidden kindness. Those thoughts eased the pain of the dagger that seemed to sink into his heart with every step they took.
Before he could rise from his cover a scream forced his attention to the three troopers upfront. The cracking of ice echoed out across the bridge, a trooper's yell of surprise, he could make out Victor's distinctive timbre, had followed right after; every one of the troopers froze right where they stood. Cameron could make out Victor half-sunken through snow and bridge where one of the icy traps had masked a hole in the surface.
He took in a sharp intake of air as his muscles began to seize up. Within moments all hell was bound to break loose upon their condemned souls.
Location:SIBC Vault Tower, Southern Mesa, Mygeeto Objective: Battle in the Frost Cyclone Kit:Skystas Rieve iv Tave Daboti Dvasi | SI-HB-2 Power Mace w/ AvXRD Melee Weapon Assist | SIF-57 Personal Sidearm | Sith-Imperial Military Uniform Allies:Madelyn Lowe
| Darth Argentum
| Obinmiux R'avfa
| TSE Enemies:Gat Tambor
| Avernus
| NIO Post: III
Aerarii rose from his improvised chair and gave a slight bow of acknowledgement to Grand Moff Lowe as she entered the command centre, followed closely behind by a bodyguard in striking black armour. “Grand Moff, the enemy is pushing forward with renewed vigour.” He motioned to the main tactical display, which was struggling to discern friendly from hostile forces in thanks to the snowstorm bearing down on them. “Considerable offensives on both bridge, with reinforcements making planetfall. We may be witnessing their planned coup de grâce.”
Beside him, Maro appeared distracted. The Sith starred off for a moment before turning and departing the command centre, advising that the enemy were attempting to break the faults and that Tithe would do well to arm himself. “May the, ahhh, may the Force serve you well,” the Moff called after him. His hand fell to the blaster holstered on his belt, the weapon that he hardly knew how to use. I cold feeling of dread formed in the pit of his stomach, a chill much worst than that of the Mygeetean winds.
Darth Kados, leading the defences of Bridge Two, commed through that he was advancing to drive back the invaders. Tithe manipulated the hologram to focus on the hazy enemy positions as the advancing frost cyclone continued to wreak havoc on their sensors. Through the static and grainy visual Aerarii could see a major New Imperial counter-offensive being organised behind a towering armoured figure wielding a violet lightsaber - former Dark Councilor Darth Bellum
.
“Lord Kados, the enemy is assembling a stalwart line of opposition,” Tithe advised. “Support may yet be some time away.”
Aerarii watched the tactical displays as the newer New Imperial push came up against the Sith-Imperial defence. Damage reports, casualty counts, and requests for fire support began to flood in. The exhausted operations staff hurried between their consoles, shouting out the latest updates and trying to carefully shuffle the remaining Legion forces in the constantly shifting battle. Proclamations of blue-on-blue fire - Legionnaires firing on one another in the reduced visibility - began to pile up.
The Moff felt his shoulders slump. His ascension to the governorship of Sector Group II, which included the financial capitals of Mygeeto and Scipio, had been carefully planned as the next step in his rise to power within the Empire. His natural acumen for business and banking had made him the perfect fit for what he expected to be an easy posting. A few years looking after an otherwise stabile area of the Empire and he would be ready to move on the bigger and better things.
His eyes narrowed as he felt the chill of dread in his stomach being replaced by a fiery anger. These New Imperials, usurpers to the Dark Throne, we’re going to ruin everything. If Mygeeto fell, Tithe’s career would be in real jeopardy. All his scheming and maneuvering, all the deals and favours, would be for naught. He could not let them take his future from him, no matter what the cost.
“We need to break this siege, and soon,” he declared to Madelyn. He put his rational and calculating mind to the side for one moment, and narrowed his focus to a single goal - preservation. “If we can lure them onto the bridges and then collapse them, we could strike an imperious blow.” It would cost just as much - if not more - in Sith-Imperial blood, but the increasingly desperate Tithe could not concern himself with such collateral if he was to survive this incident with his prestige intact.
Snow battered Vaulkhar's body from all directions, the wind whipping up his ragged black cloak in a flurry. As Sith-Imperial forces slammed into Zovesa's Auxillary Corps, his vermilion lightsaber surged to life and cut a bloody swathe through the opposing force's front line. The burning saber flashed out from left to right, introducing the ill-prepared Legionnaires to the might of a fallen Jedi. Pleas for mercy and screams of the dying fell on deaf ears as he pushed deeper into their ranks. The raging blizzard and Vaulkhar's mastery of the force together provided enough cover to turn his form from solid to a blur, only increasing the terror spreading through the Sith-Imperial ranks. The sudden feeling of a dark presence within the force further up the bridge caught the bastard's attention, one belonging to one dominant in the dark side. While it didn't match the familiar aura of Kaine Zambrano, Vaulkhar continued slaughtering every soldier between him and Taeli Raaf.
"We're under attack! Unknown tango in range! Watch you-" one trooper, likely a captain or some other rank of command, attempted to organize their forces. His voice cut out as the shadowy specter took hold of the loyalist's shoulders and dragged him towards the edge of the bridge. His body soared up and over the edge, his screech of fear a final farewell to his former squadron.
"C-Captain?! Where d-" another voice rose over the flurry of snow, silenced even quicker than the first as Vaulkhar plunged a lightsaber into the chest of the second man. "Argh!"
"Lurch? What's your status?" a third soldier asked, raising his blaster before him. He leveled it out and scanned the snow, searching for the disturbance in their ranks. "Lurch is MIA! We're under attack! Regroup and re- Shit!" as the third attempted to belt out orders, he was interrupted from the sudden appearance of a gold-plated skeletal mask. "Eyes on ta-" a gurgling grunt dribbled from his lips as Vaulkhar reached up and embedded the sharp-tipped gauntlets beneath the legionnaire's helmet. Vaulkhar tore the man's throat free of his form and tossed the bloody clump of flesh to the snowy earth below. The red-armored soldier crumbled to the floor, his blood mixing in with the snow, staining it an angry crimson before the flurry began the slow process of burying the third body.
Before Vaulkhar could break into the fourth of their dwindling unit, the roar of a sinking ship descended towards the massive bridge. Shards of debris slammed into the surface, tearing jagged gashes through the ground as it practically shattered those it hit on impact. The fallen Jedi dove to the side as one screeched closer, narrowly avoiding contact as it pierced several feet into the bridge and remained in place. From elsewhere in the blizzard, Vaulhar could make out shouts of surprise and pain as others faired worse than he, likely being launched off the bridge or into a state of unconsciousness they'd never awaken from. A purpose-filled solely by rage and hatred for the Sith Empire pushed him forward, moving carefully to avoid as much of the chaos as possible.
Hearing the Force Corps comms echoing in his ear left Vaulkhar's eye twitching in irritation. The push up the bridge occurred at arguably the worst time it could have, right at the beginning of a zero-visibility blizzard. While the idea itself wasn't terrible, the implementation of dropships and other aerial vehicles among it all only spelled doom for the New Imperial Order's troops caught out in the open. That idle opinion quickly became fact as Zovesa's soldiers seemed to suffer the same fate as their commander. Screams from the dying mingled together, as both Sith-Imperial Legionnaires and the Force Corps Auxillary troopers experienced doom in realtime. Zovesa's explosive surge of power rolled over the bridge, sending a chill up the fallen Jedi's spine. His head snapped back, a spiteful crimson gaze locking on the imperial commander's direction.
"Zovesa, you fool. You will lose yourself to this darkness," Vaulkhar turned about, beginning the trip back to his allies behind him. Each long stride brought him closer to the growing chaos. It became abundantly clear the dogged battle took on an even higher death count as the injured and dying groaned out from all around him, each being buried alive in the snow. Vaulkhar flicked out with his saber whenever he neared one, showing rare mercy in putting them down. Those out of direct range of his weapon found their bodies slowly reduced to a husk as the force-wound consumed what little life essence their forms contained. His musculature grew more robust, as his form filled out, leaving behind the more skeletal-gauntness he boasted moments prior.
"I am coming, child of the empire," Vaulkhar's hollow voice growled out from beneath the mask. "I will not let you die here."
The scene bestowed upon Shieldbreaker was a magnificent one from the point of view of the defenders; the thought trailed across his mind as he gunned it across the grassy plains, his eyes focused forwards upon the outer layer of defenses that separated them from the heart of the city itself. It proved the calm before the storm, as the relative quaintness of their high-speed dash across the plains was soon interrupted by the familiar sound of a high-pitched whistling which closed in on their position within seconds of piquing within his ears. The first wave of shells brought him back to the fore of his awareness as the artillery barrage increased in intensity and explosions began setting off upon impact with the ground near their formation. Dozens of men fell in the opening barrage, mostly men from the Alliance half of the unit, but soon Crest themselves would suffer a handful of casualties as a result of a shell falling on top of the rear of their formation.
Several speeders were reduced to slag within an instant; Luc didn't look back to see who fell, he couldn't afford to remove his eyes from the objective that laid in front of them. His own speeder was engaged in evasive maneuvers as it was, veering off wildly from the left to the right to avoid making himself an easy target for the artillery's observers that were surely spotting for them out in the distance. "Full speed, boys, we're almost there!" He called out across his shared comms to his unit, although he was certain that everyone there had already been accelerating to their maximum speed long before the bombs began raining down over their position.
Regardless, he wanted his men to hear that he aware of the shitty spot that they were all mutually in. On several occasions he'd made the mistake of letting his thoughts reign supreme when a combat situation grew too intense. He was use to being a lone wolf, and sitting in his head was the way he'd come to deal with the tension. He couldn't afford that mentality anymore, not with a group of men at his back who relied on his presence as much as he did with them. Luckily it only took a few words from their Jedi commander to rally the men into gear, and where Lucien slacked off, Commander Larkin had proved himself more than capable of holding the unit together without the Jedi's presence being needed.
Having a man like him watching over Crest made his job a hell of a lot easier once the bulk of their unit managed to complete the mad dash across the plains and reached the outer defenses of the city in force. The adrenaline coursed through his own veins as the plasma blade at the end of his Cortosis staff cut clean through a Sith trooper's torso, impaling the man for a split second before the impact sent him careening across the ground in a broken, bloody mess. All across Shieldbreaker, Power lances were leveled against a wave of unfortunate Sith legionnaires who were the unfortunate bunch sent to absorb the initial brunt of their opening assault. Bodies were torn and ripped through as their lances impacted upon their black-covered forms with full force, a mixture of viscera and shattered remains of Legionnaire armor being left in the trail of the continuously advancing speeder formation.
A hand was raised into the air as Ryv opened up their unit's shared comms and delivered the next set of orders that were relayed down to them from high command. The Jedi and the mercenary by the name of Dorian split off from the bulk of the troopers, who themselves were divvying up into smaller groups beneath the unified command of the Mandalorian he'd once fought beside in the subjugation of Diab 6. "Commander Larkin." Luc opened up a channel to Crest as he accelerated out of the formation, breaking off from Crest to join up with Ryv and Dorian to their rear. "I'm transferring direct command of Crest to you until I rejoin with the unit. Until then, you'll be takin' orders from the Mando, got it?"
The violet blade at the end of his staff cut through another trooper in between the message being relayed. "Work with him and the Alliance boys, and stack as many of these Sithspawn as you can." A pair of fingers were raised into the air as a sign of respect to his unit before he turned a corner with his two companions and left their line of sight. "Dooku out." He finished, cutting out his squad's comms and switching over to the channel that was shared between him and the two men he now rode with separate from the main force.
What started as a continuation of their earlier success would soon reveal itself to be a clusterfuck of a situation that the three of them were not easily clawing their way out of. Following Ryv's lead, Luc kept to the rear of the two, one hand controlling the bike while the other guided his weapon towards any unfortunate legionnaire who managed to end up within striking distance of his weapon. From his spot at the back he could see that Ryv wasn't fully focused on the situation around them; it was a mistake that could cost him his life, and it almost did as a mixture of blaster fire and rockets began to rain down on their position in a near-perfect ambush that was hitting the force-sensitive warriors whilst their connection had been dampened beforehand. Ryv was the first to be knocked clear off his speeder, and Dorian would follow up afterwards in an explosion that presumably left him dead-- to the sith, anyway.
Luc took the initiative to preemptively dethrone himself from the fast-moving bike beneath him, throwing himself off to the side while the bike itself continued to accelerate towards one of the enemy's entrenched positions. It could've been destroyed mid-course or collided with their position for all that he cared, as he immediately pushed to his feet and made a dash for the door that Ryv had battered down with his shoulder. His lightsaber entered his hand mid-way there, the cortosis staff being left on the bike in the split second that it took for him to decide to throw himself off or risk ending up in a similar spot as his two companions had been in before him. It was water beneath the bridge, as the staff could be rebuilt, and the crystal within it recovered, assuming they made it out of the city alive.
He would tap Ryv across the pauldron to signal that he was heading inside the building after passing behind him to enter the relative safety of the building. Although his armor was a little banged up from the fall and brandished several blackened areas where bolts had been dissipated upon impact, he was lucky enough to call those the worse of his injuries, considering their current situation. Dorian's comment over their comms would mirror the thought that Luc was mulling over on his own. "Since we're up to our asses in Sith legionnaires, blowing up buildings sounds pretty ideal, at this point-- if we can get them to come to us." He commented back.
Objective: Defend the Muunilist capital city of Harnaidan Allies: Vallaro KindallLeon Amun
TSE & Allies Enemies: RyvLucien DookuDorian Sicarrio
NIO, GA & Allies Equipment: In Bio Theme
The detachment finished its preparations. A chaotic chorus of distant explosions and blaster fire perturbed the still grounds as the Sith-Imperials and their allies counted down the minutes between them and the impending slaughter. Atop one of the cross bridges, Venari centered the defensive line of heavy troopers. His trusted hunter Vallaro stood at one side, the lead Centurion among the unit was at his other. Below, the light infantry lied in wait just outside of Vallaro's kill zone. Above, sniper scopes were fixed on the southern avenue leading into the plaza, accompanied by the armored giant and his mighty cannon. UP-AW armored assets had spread themselves throughout the square, with heavy blasters ready to intercept any who breached the front. None would survive.
A vast aura of blue light shimmered through the sky, perceivable only to those touched by the force, and it was speeding straight toward Venari's troop. The whirs of the enemy's vehicles grew louder.
"Vod, load the void rounds. Our company has nearly arrived," Venari said, staring at the oncoming beacon of ashla.
His gaze then fixed on a mound of scrap and corpses cooked by blaster fire. The victims of the previous engagement had been piled to the side of the plaza. The stench of charred flesh and armor was rank in the air. A shame, such men and women could have survived to serve the one true Imperial order but their faith was weak and the Empire tolerated only the strong. Their rotting remains would be put to use in due time. In death they would serve still - as seeds of panic to be sown into the arriving enemy ranks.
In the distance the shieldbreaker spearhead appeared as a few rapidly growing specks. Comm chatter had blared with reports that the Empire's outer defenses were still holding but minute cracks were taking form. This attack was meant to jut through the line and pry one of those crack into a fissure. The Sith Lord would not abide such folly.
"They have made it this far. They make it no farther! Here! Now! We smother the flames of their feeble hopes and awaken the traitorous Lord-General along with all his kin to the truth. That their declaration of defiance is nothing more than a mass suicide pact. We shall take this day, and the next, and the next, and all the coming days until their treacherous union is wiped clean from galactic memory. We fight for prosperity, for security, for order! For the Empire!" He shouted.
"For the Empire!" A mirrored roar took the plaza as the enemy made their approach.
With his helmet under arm once more, Venari looked upon a lone trio beaming toward the Sith ambush. Was this it? Was this all the NIO had to offer? Venari extended a welcoming smile with fang-like teeth. They had made it all too easy.
The speeders broke into the plaza. The trap was sprung.
A void dust cloud blanketed the very edge of the perimeter, a page taken from the former Lord-General's own book as reported from Velmor. Venari stood out of range but any force users who lingered would feel their powers dampened. He had expected a larger gathering of Force Corp forces & Jedi. A pity there were so few.
Immediately the leader veered off course and was caught by one of the many rigged vehicles below, but with his brilliant blue weapon in hand, he darted into a nearby building. Meanwhile, the legion barreled into the enemy. Crimson blaster bolts rained over the opposition, reducing their vehicles to slag. Still, another managed to follow the Jedi through.
"The welcome mat is set up, horderves are on the table, and dinner is in the oven. Now let's show our guests to the refreshments."
With his armored giant now in play and the initial barrage coming to close Venari donned his helm once more, then relayed his orders, "Centurion, I want you to take the bulk detachment and plug the gap in our forward line. Let nothing through and have Dorund know I want more armor on the front. Leave a few units and one of the walkers behind to attend that straggler." He gestured toward the troops firing on Dorian.
"Yes my lord! If I may ask, will you be giving chase to the Jedi?" The Centurion asked.
"Not chasing. Hunting," he said with a toothy grin under his helmet, "now move out,"
The Centurion wasted no time coordinating his men. Two of the UP-AWs pushed ahead leading the bulk of the legion away. Left behind were two light squads who maintained fire on the last of the trio, two heavy triads and the above snipers providing support.
The Sith lord examined the nearby buildings and spoke to his allies over comms, "Seems we have a pest problem. You two take the front, I'll head them off."
Venari leapt off of the cross bridge and descended below, a looming shadow of resounding bogan energy. With a telekinetic grasp, the Sith lord slowed his descent until his armored boots came to a smooth stop on the pavement below. His Xalmiris pet gave off a hiss in the direction of the Jedi from his back.
"I know little one, we'll have it taken care of soon enough," he said.
Dark visceral energy radiated throughout the capital. The Sith Lord soaked it in along with the surrounding carnage and death; it had all become intertwined with the very fibers of his being.
"You can't hide forever, Jedi," he yelled.
With enhanced speed Venari shot down the street and into another entrance on the far side of the building. The interior was taken by darkness, the power blown out, but to the Sith it was clear as day. He began navigating the halls, encroaching on his enemy. The threat would be ensnared, contained, and then destroyed.
The fight continued, the laser beam that left the barrel of the sniper hit its opponent down the street who also went down after that. One shot, one dead. Ingrid heard someone shout the word sniper. After that there was nothing because the noise of the fight suppressed all the sounds. Fortunately there were so many opponents on the street that they couldn’t even disperse, thanks to this, Ingrid had an easy time. It was easy to choose a new opponent. Thanks to this and the fact they can’t find her, not even with scanners it was even easier. It is for this very reason that she expected the buildings to be bombed.
Ingrid tried to aim not the common soldiers; she searched the higher rank soldiers and officers too. That was the best thing she can do as a sniper at this moment. One shot, one dead. Many thought it was easy to be a sniper, they were wrong. Ingrid spent years being a perfect sniper when she was younger. And although she learned very quickly, she still had time to become a professional and not just a botch. Just as the battle on the street began between the two parties, it became harder not to shoot a friend. Every fight was hard; she didn't want to make it any harder with a possible friendly fire.
That is why she tried to find a more distant opponent for herself, far from the Sith Empire’s army. A few minutes later she finally found a figure who matched what she wanted, a senior officer. She definitely noted to herself as an extra point that the higher-ranking enemies are not afraid to show up on the battlefield either. As a person who got military training to, appreciated this. As soon as she targeted this person, the event for which she “feared” the air force arrived in this area. The race against time has just begun…
Allyson went wide-eyed as she watched Kaine twist his frame and tank the arrow to his chest. Reaching behind her back, she reaches to retrieve another arrow to fire at him, hoping to find a weak point in his armor. Before Allyson could load her bow, the hand raised, and she could feel the cold and dark surge of energy. It was enough of a warning for the Corellian to bring her arms up in front of her quickly. The bow and arrow, along with a pocket of the force, protected her as the blast ravaged the house or what was left of it. She felt the dark side energy swirl around her, the despair and pain that came along with it weighed on the Jedi. The barrier she had created protected her from the debris of the rest of the house, the data was already released into the airways, and the NIO and GA forces had access. Her mission was complete, and now it was a personal matter. The Corellian felt the ground disappear from under her feet as she was launched away from the explosion. With years of experience from situations such as this, the Corellian was able to land carefully back onto her feet. The house was in flames, and she coughed, feeling the burning in her lungs.
Looking around her, the city was falling apart around them; the Sith didn't care what happened to the city, all they cared about was winning no matter the cost - no matter how many lives were lost. She had come to her senses; her ears stopped ringing. The bond she shared with the Sword of the Jedi ached. He was on the receiving end of the flurry of emotions she was having. She knew he was in danger and could feel it. Panic set in, she needed to go to him, she wanted to go to him. With his pain from feeling what he felt, there was a calmness, something, or someone was protecting him. She thanked the Force for whatever it was, if that calm and hope were with him - he would survive long enough till she could go to him. Allyson knew she needed to trust him to survive.
Wyatt shouted to her, and the Grandmaster moved gracefully with the saber. Allyson had to provide support the best way she could. The Dark Lord lunged at her, and the Grandmaster, Allyson, used the force to propel her back, giving a distance between the man and his depraved savagery. As she landed, an arrow was drawn and placed into the bow. The Force flowed freely through her, and she heard Wyatt tell her to be the Jedi that she was, she remembered her lessons under the former Grandmaster of the Silver Order, her best friend, and the hope she had recently found within the Sword of the Jedi. Everything beautiful in the galaxy, the good that the light brought focused on the tip of the arrow. Force light shined brightly as the bolt was drawn back, she aimed, concentrate at the newly scarred face of the Emperor of the Sith Empire.
"Even in the darkest of nights, the light always comes to drive it away, the Sith's hold on the galaxy is OVER Carnifex - you're the only fool here." The arrow flew from its dock and cut through the air; it was infused with the purity of the light side of the Force. As she shot the arrow, she drew another, and once more infused it with Force Light, it quickly followed, but before she could reach for a third, something felt as it was ripping her apart from the inside.
Her chest tightened, and breathing became difficult. Something wasn't right; she could feel it through the Force and her bond with Ryv
. He was in danger, and her feet felt heavy as she turned to run to him. Standing there, she looked around she had no idea where he was - his part of the mission took him somewhere farther from her. Allyson did her best to keep her senses clear from focusing too hard on him, and she couldn't think about him - if she did, she put him in even more danger. Fear gripped her for that moment. She couldn't lose him, and she couldn't go back to a reality where he didn't exist. She didn't care anymore about the Kaine; she didn't care anymore about the Sith or the Jedi - he needed to be okay. The internal struggled within her, but she stood her ground. The faster she ended Carnifex's life - the quicker she could find him.
When she had reprogrammed the Valkyrie system to implement it into her helmet, Ursula probably laughed at the many encodings she had add to that beautiful creation. Only now, with the infernal 'ring ring ring' in her ear, she not only felt remorse, but she also wanted to blow her own brains out, and instead she answered the call.
"... air me? ... You are ordered to protect our forces at the platoon and head with them north."
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”, Ursula screamed her lungs out, not only with the soldier in the comlink but also due to the twenty blaster shots hitting her metallic son's bodywork. The semi-sentient droid snarled angrily, firing the cannons in its mouth and claws at the position of the Sith soldiers, but the more they fell, it seemed that twice as much took its place. "I refuse to babysit a bunch of grown men!", and for a long time Vizla considered to tear down the entire hotel down those troops, and also to crush all the Sith forces around with the impact wreckage, at least until the missile hit the bodywork from her Sheershoy, throwing Ursula and the basilisk from above directly against the hotel's facade, both of them breaking through its wall and falling into what should have been an abandoned room.
“That’s it, I freaking had it with this!”, Ursula punched the basilisk droid on the side, opening a small compartment clogged with weapons almost to the point of being unable to close any more. She chose two TIbanna gas grenades and hurled them at once, already armed to explode while she herself took the disruptor in hand and ran towards the window shortly after the grenades were launched, throwing herself out of the hotel and shooting to the group of soldiers below it, just before the two small balls burst into a fiery hell.
From inside the ruined hotel, Sheershoy came flying, catching Ursula in the air before she fell surrounded by the flames, still laughing as she was thrown back and forth by her pet machine, throwing herself out the window to attract the attention of soldiers and soldiers. distracting from the grenades had been a fun idea. Only now, Sheershoy put her on the peaceful ground, just enveloped by the distant sound of gunfire going on far away and wherever she looked, Vizla could see the bodies of dead soldiers, some still trying to get up and crawl out of there, but the auto-turret on his shoulder didn't understand that feeling, he just went on analyzing who was alive and kept shooting.
"Oy, stupid," she called. "Yes, reason of my beautiful existence?", The machine replied. “Send a message to the soldiers that the Captain 'I Don't Know Who' talked about and send them my location. Let's head north, towards the meeting point. ”, Now it was a treasure hunt, a battle against time, to take the big pot of honey, there was honey in that city, Ursula could smell it. She raised her free arm, opening the updated virtual map of the enemy forces, just as the battalion soldiers began to appear. Vizla lifted her disruptor and swung it from side to side to get their attention, as if she being the only one dressed that way amid a bunch of dead Sith troopers didn't speak for herself.
She ran towards the soldiers, pointing in the direction they were going, raising her voice and shouting at them from inside the helmet.
“Whoever dies until we get there, will have their body sold in Nar Shaddaa for hungry dashades, I promise that.”, She then tapped the disruptor cable on the back of a soldier who entered in front of her to start the journey, “FASTER, PLASTIC BOYS , FASTER!”, And whistling loudly without using his fingers, one of his many secret talents, echoing a loud and terrible sound that attracted from behind one of the buildings she called, his droid then started flying up and away from them , in order to offer support from heaven so she could make a way for it.
Lyra stared at the grey brick building across from her, back flush against the wall. There was black scorch marks from blaster bolts..and she finally noticed scrawled across in red paint was somthing. Each line painting out a ominous warning, no tears for apostates. She began to sweat, the words burning into her mind. The smoke she had caught wind of was from the burning building just behind the offices she had landed near, flames licked at the top of the skyrise casting it’s violent glow over the city block. She closed her eyes listening to her boys amidst the fire fight-the comms picking up the chatter as they called out sights.
<”It’s like a rats nest, they keep coming!”>
<”Bird dogs take the building if you want it so fucking badly, your performance review is on the line.”> Lyra snapped. <”flush 'em out.”>
Comms picked up someone chucking a grenade, warning squadmates and she started counting under her breath. The white building the Captain had tagged was just adjacent from her position. There was silence then the detonation reverberated up the avenue, audio dampeners wrestling the influx. She did not need to see to know there were bricks and bodies falling to the ground on the road.
<”Genesis Two what are our sights on this avenue?”> Lyra questioned, eyes opening as her head turned sharply toward the road.
<”Spotter says boxed in, surrounding roadways are stacked tall with barricades. We hit a bad spot. We have sights of the roof tops one klick north, Tangos camping left side.”>
They were easily over four kilometers off mark from their desperate jump, neck deep in the shavit.
<”Not even I can even scope that without a long range setup....”> Lyra bit out, in the back of her mind she knew indecisive action led to death. <”alright, moving up-how far do we have to back track?”>
The woman rose to her feet, rifle in hand as she brought it to scope. One heavy hand catching her belt as she pulled her second smoke, that’d be the last of her cover until she started burning her Nulls. The canister rolled with a metallic thud out into the street. A grey smoke sputtering out until the road was soon bathed in it. Her boots pounded against the cement, dashing out under the cover of the grenade.
<”Wait ma’am don-”>
Lyra didn't concern herself with the chatter. The active reflec flickered and began to mirror to the surroundings as she waded into the growing smoke cloud, moving down the road blindly. Her knees hitting her chest as she leapt over a downed pole, blaster fire whizzed past coming from behind her, it licked at her heels and she duck and wove. The hostiles had to of seen her landing and half the block must of had their eyes on them now, if she wasn't careful it would jut take one lucky barrage. Trying to mind the sheer panic and the A.I that suggested a path of action. Lyra wasn’t sure what she was looking for until she hit the piece of cement and rebar. Courtesy of the chunked out buildings overhead.
<”Hellhound Actual you are too exposed, you can not remain there.”>
It was one step closure in her eyes but the avenue stretched for klicks and she threw herself down behind rubble before the smoke blew out. Kicking her legs out as she slammed her back up against the stone, blaster fire chipping at the cement closest to her head. She flinched by instinct, panting. The radar beeped steadily and while hunkered down, plate scraping the stone. She realized there was a mine planted only meters away and she froze. Just what she needed.
Was it luck? She didn’t know. Blaster fire was one thing, but getting blown to kingdom come-that was to close a call.
There was still an intersection between her and her men, a squad in the process of breaking off under fire as the rest of the platoon pushed up behind. The squad was storming into the white complex. Slapping a hand under the Jackal, she aimed along the second story through the haze as hostiles began to rain down on them. A hail of fire focused on the upper stories, support came from across the road as they began to eat up the building with bolts. Each shot snapped against her shoulder, and she held onto the rifle tightly. Shots clipped away at the bricks of one stocked window and she didn’t ease up until the tail end of the troopers disappeared inside. She was barely out of the building’s sights, but realistically they’d have to lean out to catch her here.
<”Genesis Company where are you hole’d up at?”> Lyra asked, comms blurring and static creeping in upon her words.
The smoke she had stopped proliferating and she finally caught sight of the entirety of the emptiness of the city street. Another burst of fire caught her attention and from the gaps in the kill squad’s base, blaster fire painted the ugly scene and she monitored the life lines at the corner of her HUD.
<”Commander, the deli, two buildings down right side.”>
Tilting her head, another pop shot hit closer to her cover. There was heat radiating off the stone ledge she hid behind. A lapse in her vigilance, Lyra tucked her head between her knees as another round of fire began raining down upon her back. Tilting her head, the HUD lit up, bringing to attention the sparking sign of the dingy old. The neons on it were long blown out. Opening her mouth, her words died on her lips-they had no warning only when the earth shook beneath their feet.
An airstrike, there was no mistaking it.
She had no sights on where the heat was being dropped, but the devastation was hard to miss as the torrent of hellfire emerged in an ugly mushrooming cloud on the horizon toward the frontlines. A pang of fear seized her chest, a familiar screech peeled through the air after and drew eyes to the sky.
<”Those are our flyboys!”>
Lyra released a breath, picking up her head. Sneering to herself, it didn’t matter who’s they were, they weren’t doing them any good right now.
<”Bird Dogs what floor, report now!”>
<”We're on the ground floor, stairwells contested. Could be trapped!”>
Lyra gritted her teeth.
<”I want a close range missile on the third floor. Bird Dogs keep your heads down. Squad on the road, move in to help secure the bottom floor. Genesis Two get Evil Eyes on the comms, we’re going-”>
<”Commander we’re picking up chatter on the comms!”> a voice flooded her audio.
<”What is it!”> she shouted-vaguely she remembered she was breaking the rule of the 12th in raising her voice.
<”Most of it’s static, but it’s the Imperator, we have artillery rolling in to the city, I repeat, artillery’s rolling.>
And the Cataphracts went rolling on, exhaling she shook her head stifling a scoff. Even if ground forces were moving in but it didn’t feel like a good sign. There would be no waiting it out here, the artillery wouldn’t reach them before enemy reinforcements moved in on them.
There was no objective here but to survive.
<”Do we have direct contact? Or is our range still shot? What’s the delay time on that?”> Lyra asked, checking her six. Shifting away from the dormant mine as she began judging the distance to the corner of the intersection. She could maybe run it, radar didn’t have the range past that and there was no telling if there was a sniper lying in wait, it’d put her in range of the hostiles on the complex too.
<”Two minutes at most ma’am, that airstrike was a call for Hellhound Two. We have dodgy connection.”>
She was weighing the options, standing still. Had Vizla not reached Belisarius? She had tried to give him all the cover she could, fucking mercenaries. She had heard the woman had a reputation, she wanted to spit at the thought. Lyra could not advance nor retreat and frustration bubbled, forced to push it to the back of her mind.
..<"Read you Hellhound Actual-.....-ghts on. Dorn-2 movi-.....-tion. We have injured a-.....-medivac. Godspeed, Com-..">..
She couldn’t deal with Dorn right now. From the little deli building she could see one of the demolition lads haul up the rocket launcher. An ugly hiss and a trail of white smoke shot through the air and a final explosion rocked the white complex blowing out the remains of the most upper building.
The explosion sent chunks of rock hailing down on her, debris pelting her leaving her and the better part of the street coated in dust. There was a faint ringing in her ears from the explosion, and Lyra considered the chaos. It was enough cover for her and she threw herself to her feet. Slinging the rifle back, the strap snapped against her and the blaster bounced against her hip as she all out sprinted across the intersection; chest heaving.
<”What are you doing Hellh-Lyra for fucks sake you have no cover!”> Appw’rii’s voice was shrill, audio distorting.
The fire fight pressed on her nine, the boys on the deli shop laying out cover fire on the complex. The squad still camped out behind the general wreckage weaved in following up on the command, a faint echo of a blaster shot or two popping off from the building; the rocket had stuck it to them.
<”Bird Dogs moving up!”>
A red bolt passed before her eyes, catching her shoulder. The shoulder cop hissed and steamed, the force catching her off guard. Caught up in the momentum and clipped shot, Lyra stumbled rolling out across the black top, a faint croak escaping her throat. Catching herself on instinct and rolling to her feet. Her whole body lulled for a moment. There was a shop corner she was staring at with a glass window begging to be shattered. Lyra scrambled back up thrusters on her boots activating as she ran toward the opening.
Cross fire whizzed past her, the burning on her shoulder slowly registering. Everything was a blur as she aimed for the window, nearly across the intersection, another shot grazed her calf and her leg threatened to give. Fucking hell it hurt. Three meters..two meter-the A.I directed her to the right and she stumbled to stay on a safe route, a hot rock waiting to go off on her left. Leaping into the window, Lyra screwed her eyes shut hitting it. The weight behind her armor and thruster sent her cascading through the glass. Bathed in shards, she rolled over tables with smoking shots still dogging her. The shop was dark and she hit a table and whatever shavit they had been selling here, it was a poor cushion and before she knew it she hit the floor with a hard thud.
The screen flickered as she stared at the etched ceiling over head, her leg aching worse than her shoulder from the blaster burns. Breathing heavily, the ventilators kicked and a cold wave hit her face. Lyra cringed as something unnerving rippled under her skin, a bad feeling sinking in to the pit of her gut.
<”Commander we’re reading something on the radar, three hostiles, coming in fast ETA one minute-no secon-”>
A metallic crunch sounded outside.
Something with weight to it and an alarm wailed from a vehicle. Lyra had tasted this on Korriban the overwhelming, suffocating..Reaching up she planted a gauntlet on the table hauling herself to her knees, peering outside. Her neck craned to catch it. The screen flashed and adjusted to the light, simply listing Unknown Hostile. Uttering ‘identify’ under her breath, the A.I cycled through it’s logs. All she could see was sleek silver cut armor, a durasteel colossus between her and the complex..she couldn’t even see it’s head but had it just..landed from above with wings?
<”What the fuck is that?”> Lyra balked, the comment flooding the comms-the A.I struggling to identify it until it simply outlined it in red. Warning her ‘Sith Spawn’ on the tag. This was above her pay grade. It’s essence echoed and it caught her attention sucking her in like a void..it was far worse than what she remembered from the Sith planet, far more sinister.
This was not the seductive whispers and promises that she had been riding out on some sort of high, it screamed danger. The thing was standing atop the overturned speeder, the whole craft rolling under its weight as it shifted. A sharp cry gurgling over audio and she realized it had pinned one of the boys on the line under the speeder.
<”Genesis, open fire! Get him out! If you’re still on the street, get to cover now! Sith spawn, I repeat sith spawn!”>
Lyra’s hands seized the rifle, finger sliding on the trigger as she trained on the horror’s hip. Her’s was the first to fire, but the avenue was quickly reduced to a light show of a red and gold haze. Maybe a good fourty rifles unloading everything on the colossus. Targeting the creature, clips upon clips burning into the thing. She bared her teeth behind the helmet, unloading the entirety of the Jackal on it.. a lull coming from the fire. Something was torn inside her, knowing the thing was still standing. What had they gotten into?
<”Hellhound Actual to Hellhound Two, do you copy? We-”>
She had to try to get hold of anyone.
<”Commander another sith shavit’s dropped in! South of our position on the deli. We’re redirecting fire but nothing’s scratched it-oh sha-get down!”>
The thing at the middle of the avenue had jumped down from its perch, far to quickly for her to keep track of. Ripping up the nearest chunk of debris-hurtling it down the road as far as she could see. A crash registered on audio and she assumed it was aimed at the pocket of troopers at the deli. Lyra dropped her hand to the under barrel of the rifle before halting, she couldn’t if the man on the street was alive, if there were more of the Company in the line of fire.
<”Get off the road! Genesis Two do you copy!”>
<”Thing put a block through the shop, four down, two wounded. It’s coming-”>
If they got boxed inside..she could only imagine a massacre. She had seen the reports from Kintan and Mandalore and knew the destruction and the atrocities of..theses things..Thinking on her feet-distract and redirect. Lyra leapt atop the tables steeling her heart as the thruster boots burned up. Her leg cried for relief but she soldiered on. The blaster shot had caught her in a gap in the plating and the pain was aching.
Pushing through she propelled herself back into the city’s smoking haze, clipping the shards of glass. She ripped a Null grenade from her belt and dropping it at the center of the road. A thick black smoke cascading from the canister before it hit the ground. If she was going to do this..it’d at least take the heat off from any death squad looking for an easy kill. She had to buy time.
Rifle in hand, she leveled up her left arm coasting through the air meters from the ground. She had one look at the horror’s plated back, twitching her thumb, the wrist rocket firing off the payload. It whistled through the air, targeting the Sith Spawn’s back, there were maybe five meters between her and the targeted horror.
The rocket made impact, the small explosions ringing out and the screen flashing to dim the implosion. It put..a dent in it’s step and she swore it’s knee almost buckled. Turning to meet the pavement, the thrusters on her boots died and she hit the road shoulder first, scraping and pulling at the flak poncho ripping it. She rolled out and Lyra pushed herself up, stumbling back eyes flying to the thing as it shuddered, looking back to her. Did nothing they have..leave a mark?
<”Ceaes fire..”> Lyra’s sternness was gone, the order laced with panic as as she took another step back, weight upon her left leg. Do not provoke them, she begged silently. The behemoth turned around to face her-it didn't even have eyes to meet..it was just a faceless monster. Her blood running cold, he woman could kill a man but this..how.. Lyra wasn’t ready to bloody the boys, bring them to their knees just to take half a block either. To fight a pointless fight.
This was a prediction of what was to come, one she felt in her bones that would have no good ending.
<”Dorn-2 copy,Ravraa Vyshraal
blue smoke negative. Do not approach. I repeat do not approach. Sith Spawn in the area.”>
In Academy, they promised each and every one of them that there would be a battle they’d lose, there would come a day to call for retreat..Blaster fire poured from the complex above and she didn’t know if the squads had finished taking the building either.
<”Genesis Two...round up and fall back to Evil Eyes..we can't...”>
<”Fall back?! Wha-”> <”Genesis Two your orders are to fall back”> Lyra shouted, voice hoarse; scared. The Commander hadn't shied in the face of Avernus and his torment, that had cost her..this was..She had stood the presumptive sacrifice to the plan on Borosk...now she’d find no mercy in games facing these things. Lyra reached up pawing at the flak, ripping it off as she limped back. The colossus wouldn’t give a damn about sentiment but she glanced at the down soldier, his blood was pooling on the street.
<”Hellhound Actual to Hellhound Two, if you read. We’re engaged by Sith Spawn. Genesis is in retreat, I’m..luring them off...I- Belisarius
the command is yours,”> the Commander choked out.
She could not hope to take the charge, in the dark recesses of her mind she knew she wasn't cut from that cloth.
The man was dead and the thing rushed upon her in a fell swoop. Shadow descending upon her. Lyra fumbled loading up a grenade off the second barrel. Popping it off high and sloppily. She had never thought the day would come. As the shadow descended upon her, she stepped back disappearing into the inky smoke. Lyra was alone in this pursuit, in this attempt of defiance. Theses things wouldn't take them all, but she didn't see herself coming home. The impact caught her like the suicide bomber from the Lo-Hold market, it hit hard, blinding leaving your ears ringing. She couldn't breath and it had caught her side and the Commander flew back bouncing off the pavement with an ugly crack. She had no vision and the HUD flickered off; signal gone.
Location: In Transit to Muunilinst’s Surface. Objective: Breach Harnaidan’s Defences. Set Piece:Subterranean Sith Citadel. Allies: The Galactic Alliance, The New Imperial Order. Enemies: The Sith Empire. Equipment: See Signature for Biography Listing. Complement:One REC-SU01 LR/FA Combat Shuttle | Sigma Squad: Two Alliance Commando NPC’s, and Din Marren
Outer Rim Territories // Obtrexta Sector // Muunilinst System.
Mark [- 00:2:15] from Operation Commencement.
It had been hard for Gideon to adjust to his new Squadmate, after the Commando he had known as Hatchet sacrificed himself to save the rest of their Unit, and the Hostages that were taken during Sigma's deployment on Vulpter. Dare shared many traits as their dead comrade, and the Lieutenant's grief was eating him alive from the inside out. Before Hatchet, Gideon lost everything. He watched half of his Brothers-in-Arms turn against the Galactic Alliance due to the manipulations of the Sith. He was forced to kill people he loved dearly to survive their sudden and inexplicable betrayal.
It took him years to rebuild his trust in others, to call someone a friend, or even a Brother. Now? The Commando was forced to do it all over again with someone new.
So, as one can imagine, when Dare chimed in with his attempts to lighten the mood - Gideon was glad that he was wearing a helmet so that his blank-eyed stare was shrouded by the iconic aesthetic of a stark-white T-visor. They were two different breeds of Soldiers, and there was much that didn't connect between them. However, that blank-eyed stare slowly turned into a subtle shake of his helmet as Dare adorned himself in his full panoply. "Fifty credits?" the Lieutenant replied. "I'll take that bet. These Pilots have taken damn good care of us these last few rotations. They'll see us safely to the ground."
As the turbulence from atmospheric re-entry fades, Gideon and the rest of the Squad advance towards the hatch - readying themselves to disembark with all the alacrity their armoured forms could muster. However, their arrival was heralded by the droning sounds of warning klaxons as they screeched overhead. At that moment, the Pilot's voice echoed throughout the troop compartment. They were being tracked by automated emplacements, and the man was forcing their Shuttle to adopt an evasive approach. Whatever was down there, was seemingly worth fortifying. Judging by that fact alone, they were heading in the right direction.
That was when the shakes started. The door before them yawned open, filling the compartment with gusts of biting air. The ammo crates from before started to rouse themselves from their resting places and bang against the crash couches. Several even flew out the front hatch - likely taking flight and impacting the surface far below. Gideon was half-expecting some sort of quip from Dare, something along the lines of being thankful that he doesn't have to clean up that mess - but when nothing came, aside from the wordless gesture of I told you so? There was a moment of respect that welled within his chest.
It seems the man could be serious, after all.
Then, an explosive round shears off the Shuttle's left-wing - forcing the entire transport into a concussive spiral. Gideon felt the ever-present forces of gravity yank at his mag-sealed boots and seek to steal the wind from his lungs. He groans as the false-firelight that bathes his vision swims with varied Warning runes and blinking G-force alerts. They can't stay here. Before the Commando's able to order his Unit out of the violently careening Shuttle - Dare gives voice to his thoughts. They had to bail. Even the Pilot was shouting for them to do so. However, they didn't have any Grav-chutes. They wouldn't survive the fall if they jumped out at this altitude.
Just.
A little.
More.
Gideon thought to himself, as the man gritted his teeth whilst the gravitic pressure mounted. When they reached a marginally safe altitude, the Commando's vocabulator roared to life - fringed with the prickling static of mechanical activation.
:: Bail! Bail! Bail! ::
Dare was the first of their number to charge forward, but with the spiralling nature of the transport, his armour caught on something as he threw himself into the planet's atmospheric embrace. Dynamo was next. His exit was just as graceless as the man's armoured pauldron forcibly slapped against the durasteel bulkhead. His footing was momentarily stolen from him, but the Commando ultimately righted himself as he began his freefall. Whisper cursed up a storm as he followed after the rest of Sigma.
Finally, it was Gideon's turn. As he removed his gauntlet from the support rail, the Balmorran felt his fingers shake. Some saw this as the onset of fear taking hold. This inevitably led to the whole 'fauna in the floodlights' ordeal - where body and mind were bleached of nothing but the sensation of terror. He had the injections, and all the hypnotic prep that the Alliance offered, but the Shrinks couldn't figure out why his hand seemingly trembled before a drop. However, it wasn't fear that gripped him. Fathier's locked behind the starting gates weren't afraid. They were just ready to run.
At the last possible moment, when escape would've been all but impossible, Gideon released his mag-locks and surged into action - swiftly throwing himself into a freefall.
He didn't have a grav-chute, nor the control to really alter his approach. As the cruel fates would have it, Gideon's descent wasn't perfect. The weight of his armour increased the speed, and spiralling momentum of the transport didn't help the man's freefall any. He was spinning out of control and needed to fix fall - fast - lest the ground and gravity fix everything for him. A shift of the shoulder, and spreading his arms and legs seemed to correct the descent - but it wasn't enough to pull him away from the Canyon's wall.
Gideon smashed into the rocky outcropping with a sickening crunch. His armour's impact gel hardened as contact was made - but it wasn't enough to wholly protect himself from the connection. He felt it rock his proverbial world and even stole his vision momentarily. The man couldn't see anything. And aside from the ripples of pain sent throughout his body, He felt a sudden wetness dribble from above an eye. Somehow, the Commando's helmet smashed into the Canyon - leaving Gideon in a dazed state - and exposed as a meaty portion of the hardened material tore free. All that could be felt was pain, and when his vision eventually returned - it was stained red and populated by swarming stars.
What remained of his armour did what it could to numb the pain as it injected him with a veritable cocktail of stimulants and bacta in the hopes of getting the Commando back on his feet. But, fresh agonies rippled through his frame every time he thought about moving. Gideon saw the extent of the damage wrought upon his form when a semblance of focus returned to his sight. His helmet was all but destroyed, leaving only a portion of his visor intact and the basic-automated functions of the armour operational. He was tempted to take it off, but that would only aggravate the inflicted wounds.
He groaned as more of the numbing agents flooded through his system, and as the impact gel began to revert from it's hardened crystallized state. When mobility came back to his extremities, Gideon fumbled about hoping to find something to clear away the blood welling above his eye. His fingers stretched across the broken belt attachment that housed a cartridge of expanding impact gel that would've broken his fall - had he the time to deploy it. Another, more audible groan forced its way out of his throat. If that device was activated, the Commando could've saved himself all of this agony - and still had an operational helmet to keep his head protected.
"Damn it..." He wheezed through pain-clenched teeth.
Taking out the aqueous cartridge, Gideon flicked it away from his person - partially because it was of little use to him, and partly because he was furious with himself for not thinking of using the damned thing before it was too late. It took the man several minutes of searching through his gear before He finally found something that would help clot the gash above his eye. As his vision marginally cleared, the Commando was finally able to see his surroundings in greater detail than smears of sparkling crimson.
Their Shuttle was gone. Somehow the Pilot managed to guide their reckless descent to some degree and take out the revealed entrance of the hidden facility in the process. Through that selfless act of sacrifice, their Pilot had not only saved the lives of Sigma Squad but also gave them the time they would need to recover from their graceless plummet. It seemed that in taking out the entrance - many of the emplacements that were concealed within the Canyon's surface went dark. Gideon was thankful that they did - as it wouldn't have been pretty being shot at whilst they escaped from their crash, nor painfully roused themselves from their feet.
While the Lieutenant was the furthest thing from a spiritual or religious man, He took a moment to thank his lucky stars and honour the Pilot's sacrifice in his own way. This ultimately boiled down to hoping that the man's IdentTags survived the crash, so Gideon could ensure that the entirety of Sigma Squad saw their mission through to the end.
The Commando managed to rouse himself to his feet with several grunts of effort and a hearty-helping of hissed expletives. He was unsteady at first, and was forced to lean against the Canyon's surface - but as the cocktail of combat stims began to take more significant effect, Gideon was able to partially shamble over to where the others of his Unit were located. Dynamo seemed perfectly fine, as the man was able to use his drop-gel to significant effect. The lingering gel that sloughed from his pristine armour was enough for the Lieutenant to come to that conclusion. When his eyes flicked towards Whisper - the Commando was getting his arm splinted by portions of his sniper rifle. He was getting the entire contraption slung around his neck by the unaffected Dynamo.
:: Glad to see you up and about, Sir, ::Whisper said with a hiss of pain as Gideon hobbled over. :: We weren't sure if you were going to make it after your helmet smashed into that Canyon. ::
"What happened to y… your arm?" Gideon inquired.
:: Oh, this? ::Whisper laughed, with his words saturated in numbed agony.:: I missed my Drop-gel back the narrowest margin, and the connection broke my arm. The cocktail of combat stims is a welcome relief - however. ::
"Wher… Where's Dare?"
:: He's checked in with us, Sir, ::Dynamo replied, sounding wholly distracted.:: I think your Comms systems were taken out when half of your helmet vanished. His leg took a nasty hit, so I don't think he's gone far from where we saw him last. So, he should be just over there near the Installation's entrance. ::
Gideon nodded painfully.
"Alright… Once that arm… arm's slung, we need to move. I'll go… go get him and meet you at the entrance."
Unseen by the Commando as he turned away and began limping towards the prone Dare, Dynamo's gaze lingered on for several moments, before returning to his current charge. There was likely some resistance that would be expected if Dynamo forced Gideon down to tend to his wounds - but their Commanding Officer was far too stubborn for his own good sometimes. The circumstances of the present only reinforced that point. What was likely to transpire was that Gideon would refuse medical attention until the Squad was back in fighting shape - all the while dealing with what seemed to be like a major concussion and dozens of torn - or overstressed muscles that spasmed beneath the weight of his damaged armour.
There was probably more that went unseen, but it didn't change Dynamo's impression of his Lieutenant. In fact, there was a part of him that wondered if Gideon would change his callsign to something more situationally apt than 'Null.'
~*~
Gideon was half-expecting Dare to be lying prone, clutching his leg - or at the very least using something from his Medkit to restore some functionality to the wounded extremity. Instead, the Commando was standing and staring off in the direction of the ruined entranceway, doing all he could to keep his weight shifted to the other side of his body. Other than the wounds that went unseen beneath his relatively intact armour plating, and the dummied leg - Dare seemed to be in fighting shape. That was good. Sadly, Gideon couldn't say that about himself, but that was something that didn't really matter much now. His blood was swimming with chemicals that numbed the throbbing pain and restored a fraction of his mobility. He was able to complete the mission.
There would be enough time to take care of his wounds as they pushed through the breach, and slipped into the proverbial heart of Harnaidan - if this Installation met their assumptions and actually connected the two points.
"See… Seems I owe you Fifty Credits." Gideon said with a hint of a pained smile. "Hope you don't mind put… putting that on my tab until this bat… battle's over."
"We… we need to get moving. Need a shoulder, or can… can you walk?"
The moment she had been waiting for had arrived. The supposedly final attack had begun and the do-or-die battle between the Sith Empire and the New Imperial Order had begun on Bridge Two. The time for waiting was over, replaced by the time of action. Jyon had no doubt that Kor Vexen would make an appearance, perhaps even leading the assault himself. She wouldn’t be surprised if he did, after all it was typical of the Sith Lord to plan such a strategy when she previously served after him. She knew that the other Sith favored brutal efficient battle strategies, and the battle of bridge two would be no different today. As eager as she was to start fighting, the Sith Knight was not part of the Sith vanguard led by Darth Kados that charged forth in their attempt to lead the attack. She generally did not like to be part of the attackers in the first wave, for that was where the casualties were the highest. Did that mean that she was a coward?
Oh no, she would still face the enemy head on after all, just after she had some sense of what was going on and how the vanguard fared in their attack. Should there be any issues, the second wave could then adjust its attack pattern and proceed with the revised attack plans. By the time she had arrived, she could already see the destroyed tank husk flung onto the battlefield that had claimed many unsuspecting lives. This was the work of the force, and she knew the largely dark and foreboding presence enough. Even if she did not know, it did not take a genius to guess that it belonged to none other than the New Imperial General himself. The hulking armored figure soon emerged from the throng of battle, violet lightsaber in hand. Thoughts ran through Jyon’s mind as she faced the Sith Lord with her own crimson saber in her hands.
She had no idea if Vexen recognized her, or even took note of her during his time in the Sith Empire. Right now, she may just be another Sith knight to kill and dispose of, but for her, it was different. There was this history there, unaware of it he may be. Jyon knew that her combat abilities were no match for the Sith Lord standing in front of her, but there was no way she was going to flee with her metaphorical tail under her legs. She would give it her all, and leave the rest up to fate. Fate, the thing she was so often mocked for in her idealistic beliefs in concepts such as fate and destiny. Afterall, what better way would present itself to test her faith than this battle?
Equipment: Weapons in Signature, stylized Medhir Armor
Forces: 173rd "Black Talons" Legion, equipped with AI-331m's, Shields, and Alpine Armor, commanded by Strategos Ranulph Tarkin
The howling winds and snow, particles of windswept crystals, the sounds of blaster and cannon fire, the screaming of men and the screeching of metal... all of it surrounded the Dark Councilor. The dark side was pulsing with energy, just waiting to be tapped, to be unleashed. War fed the darkness better than anything else for death and misery were its purview, agony and blood and hatred its bedrock.
She leaned away for a moment, a particularly well placed shot from the distance sailing past and into the armor plating of an AT'HA behind her. Static burst forth in her helmet's comms…
"Vanguard is under attack!" "We're under attack! Unknown tango in range! Watch you-" "Tanks at Mark 2.3!" "Who the kark is trying to fly in this?!" "Contact!" "Medic! I need a medic!" "Scratch one more traitor!"
She shook her head, tuning out the continued shouts of the men and women fighting alongside with and of the 173rd, reaching into the Force... sensing... following the Currents within the Force, its eddies and flows... a frown, obscured by her faceplate, emerged. Her head snapped up as found what she was seeking in this maelstrom.
"Legate Kyit," she commanded to the nearest company commander, earning a quick salute. "Take a detachment, get some mag clamps, and check the bottom of the bridge. I sense lifeforms there that shouldn't be. Could be nothing, could be something." The Legate acknowledged her orders, inadvertently conscripting Miko Evans for the directive along with the soldiers around him. She returned her attention to what lay ahead of her and the sudden spike in dark side energies.
The commander had revealed herself at last.
"Ranulph, keep up the covering fire with our artillery, force them into a chokepoint between those large craters at .8 on the bridge and keep them there. Prefect Ferelai, you and your men will accompany me to assist the vanguard and scouts on the bridge."
"As you command, Eminence," was the reply from both officers. She sent a coded message back to Aerarii Tithe
and Grand Moff Madelyn Lowe
that she was leading a partial counterstroke onto the bridge and then... lightsaber unclipped from her belt, she joined the men and women of the Second Division in advancing out of their positions and into No Man's Land, several Sith Knights and Lords joining them to provide guidance through the storm. Roughly a quarter of her remaining forces, weapons raised and shields in front of them, marched. Covering fire from behind continued, the artillery booming even through the near deafening howling of the wind and ice.
A cannon round from an enemy tank erupted impacted nearby, blood and armor and rock and metal spewed forth. Bodies went flying off into the oblivion below, but their advance continued... Taeli's form in front. With the dark side, she caught another round before it landed near her, deflecting it away to impact further at the cliff side.
A rush of death, streaming from the spike of darkness she felt from the commander she presumed, washed over the Dark Councilor as a unit of the vanguard. Inhaling like it was a sweet aroma like the flower gardens at Stormvale, she drew the dark side into her, commanding it to her... and her pace quickened. This commander, the female presence she felt... yes... she tilted her head as she felt more bloodlust further along, further hunger for the deaths of Sith and their followers... familiar from the Convocation. The errant son it would seem.
He would be something to address soon, but not at present. For the Chiss Imperial Warlord Zovesa
a figure would begin emerging from the obscuring whiteout, dark armored, command half-cape billowing behind her... and an aura of darkness that only one of the Dark Council could exude. From her hand, red light would turn the snow in the air bloody... behind her, slowly coming into focus were the silhouettes of the advancing Second Division, framing her.
There wouldn't be words called to the Chiss, no orders given to her own men. They knew that the enemy Force user was all for her.
Location: Mygeeto, Bridge One Objective: Hold the Line Allies: TSE and Allies Enemies: NIO and Allies Tags: Cameron Farwell
Lirka had taken the time to watch the growing insanity of battle, there was glee to be found in it's beauty. A fuel pods ruptured and exploded in a dozens of colors, as blast fire scorched the once glistening metal-works of the buildings, and as snow was stained the beautiful crimson life-force of all beings. It was delicious. She relished every moment of this battle. Did she care for victory? Did she care about the Legionnaires that toiled in their emplacements? Maybe. But these were Mortal concerns, at the end of the day. Progress was the goal. Power. Prestige. Through war she would find honor, through honor she would find her allies, and through her allies would her power-base grow ever fatter. Until denying her claim to Thustra would be little more than suicide. That was all that mattered, one deranged monster's quest to reclaim her homeworld.
And honor presented itself in the face of the hated traitors. As fire rained from the sky, and hundreds of lives were extinguished across the world.
There were monsters on this world, the awful creations of Sith in their toiling laboratories, and those men and women who had given away their souls, their humanity, to destroy the enemies of the Empire at all costs. None compared to what approached Cameron Farwell and his team. Through the choking visibility of the blizzard, it still showed itself: a massive blade, easily as tall as a man burned with emerald fire, the snow around it melting and hitting the ground as half frozen raindrops. It was massive, hulking, clad in baroque plate with a wild plume of fiery red hair: two eyes, glowing the same emerald as it's blade glazed over where it had heard the sound of the crackling ice, where the traitors had revealed their position.
For this monster, was Lirka Ka. The Empire's brutalist Moff, the destroyer of Mandalore, a creature that had abandoned her humanity long ago. One that thundered and boomed with an obnoxious voice that muffled itself behind disgusting amounts of distortion. But no shots came, not yet. The Battle-Line was waiting for the commands of their overlord. Who seemed to have a great taste for dramatics.
"Traitors! Your time has come, lay down your arms and cease this petty conflict! You shall find no quarter in the great worlds of the Sith!"
They wouldn't listen, Lirka knew that full well. She was, of course, the most benevolent destroyer within the Empire. Always lay the option of peace, and when it is denied? They have forfeited their right to continue breathing the same air as her.
Tyrell Paxxus
. 
Telis Taharin-Zambrano
, The Sith Empire. 
