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Junction Shadows of Treachery | The Tion Necessity | The Empire vs. The Alliance

FN-999

Guest
F


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908th Legion - 1st Spacetrooper Company (aka “1st Space”)

Manpower: 100/100
Orders and Targets: TBD
Allies: Empire | Directly commanded by Ignacious Korvan Ignacious Korvan | Caarlyle Rausgeber Caarlyle Rausgeber | eggman Velran Kilran Velran Kilran | others I missed
Enemies: GA | Liedran Kathause Liedran Kathause | Liram Angellus Liram Angellus | others in space I missed

S P A C E R A C E
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[1st Space, this is Freefall. Do you copy?]

[We hear you loud and clear, Lieutenant. The radios are fully operational.]

The entire 1st Space had finished gearing up and were now decked out in their three-meter-tall zero-g armor, their heads nearly scraping the roof of the barracks. A few troopers flexed their cannons in and out of firing position, eager to get comfortable with their suits as rapidly as possible. As the company continued to warm up, a transmission arrived through loudspeakers placed on walls throughout the barracks.

As the bridge crew set about complying with Korvan’s orders, the Grand Moff added: “Order the space troopers to stand by. I want their commanding officer on a secured comm channel immediately.”

[Our time is now.] stated Lieutenant Freefall. [We are to exit the barracks and head towards the battlecruiser's starboard secondary hangar. I will report our status as we march. Do NOT drop under any circumstances until our orders are given.]

The other spacetroopers packed into the barracks simply nodded, conscious that receiving 99 radio transmissions at the same time might do more harm than good for Freefall's ears. Then, in pairs, they marched out of the barracks, their menacing forms almost completely filling the hallway they marched through. At the sight of the zero gravity juggernauts, stormtroopers and Imperial officers parted ways or fled down other halls, ensuring that their path would continue uninterrupted.

As the company approached the hangar doors, Freefall began his transmission on a separate, secure comm channel.


[Grand Moff Korvan, this is Lieutenant Freefall of the 1st Spacetrooper Company. We are approaching the nearest hangar and will be ready to depart as soon as the order is given.]

[What are your orders?]


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Unit: 908th Legion, 15th Regiment
Allies: Empire | In relative proximity of Melvain Braxis Melvain Braxis | DECEASED Aron Gowrie DECEASED Aron Gowrie | Bex Tarring Bex Tarring | Saul Vandron Saul Vandron
Enemies: GA | Skirmishing forces under Bayaz Bayaz | In relative proximity of Ibra Sest Ibra Sest / Sara Roche Sara Roche | Shorurra Groznik


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N I N E S
"Alliance Marines," he said, his voice tired but with all of the command of an Imperial Moff. "Stand down." He pulled his lightsaber from his belt. "Stand down and no harm will come to you." His eyes were tired, dull brown orbs, the fatigue of Tython still fresh in his mind.

"Harm has already come to us, Imp. And not to be the usual gung-ho ground-pounder, but we appear to have you outnumbered. So jog on over to your execution grounds in the city square and go back to preying on Tionese civilians." Sara did not know if the rumours were true, or if the Knight even knew of it, but talking bought Haskin time to flank and Weq'al time to report on any Imperial support in the area.

[Nines, this is Lieutenant Devin of the 3rd Scouts. We're reporting heavy fighting immediately to our left.]

FN-999 took a moment to absorb the news of the comms transmission, and then decided to reply.


[Is this engagement over by Moff Braxis's command?]
[Yes, Moff Braxis's forces are the sole section of the Imperial task force within the engagement. It appears that an Alliance unit fell behind during the rout, and the Moff is attempting to cut off the salient before it can regroup with Groznik in the city. We currently have no intel on the course of the battle, though it appears to still be ongoing.]

[I'm confident that Moff Braxis can defeat the Alliance salient. Or, at the very least, he's competent enough to know when to call for reinforcements. Speaking of, has there been any movement of the company immediately facing us? The one whose CO you reported KIA on Day 1?]

[No, no new movement. However, it appears as if that Alliance unit has a new CO and is in fighting order. If they decide to reinforce the salient, it could cause trouble for the Moff's forces. Plus, by the 3rd's accounts it's estimated that they still have around ten of those heavy battle droids.]

[Thank you, Lieutenant. Is there any more intel to report?]

[None on our side of the map. I'll keep you updated. Devin, out.]

FN-999's attention returned to the elevated staging grounds, where thousands of stormtroopers and support crew hustled about in the safety of the hills. Ultimately, such bliss was only temporary. In the best-case scenario, the regiment of the 908th would soon penetrate the city interior itself. In the worst-case scenario, the regiment would be tossed off the hill and forced into a rout, shamefully abandoning the siege of New Aldera. The only question was when such staging grounds would be left.

At that moment, FN-999 had an idea.

As Gowrie and Vandron had, FN-999 addressed his fellow commanders with an encrypted message.

[[From: Gowrie]]
[[Recipients: Vandron, Tarring, Lockhart, FN-999]]


[[Suggestion - let the opposition make the first move, I've had some sneaking suspicions nagging me lately.

Breakthrough should never be considered easy by any means, but asymmetric-warfare is easily wielded in cities like these, so the real challenge awaits hubristic breakthroughs as we all know well enough. We've fought on both sides of Black Cauldron scenarios in the past - like every last one of us.

From New Harnaidan to New Carannia, we've been in more urban meat-grinders than any of us would care to recount, so we know what awaits early breakthroughs, and you don't need me going into detail on how messy they can get for anyone either. You can picture that clearly enough without my running commentary. Intel-sharing saves lives, so anything and everything could be useful beyond this point.

Trying to arrange a little parley on my end, though I'll be active on comms if the need arises. But as for the here and now - good luck out there, gentlemen.

Ave Rurik!
]]

**

[[
From: Vandron]]
[[Recipients: Gowrie, Tarring, Lockhart, FN-999]]


[[Negative, Gowrie.

We'll storm their positions and bring chaos to their lines, draw the rats out from their holes. I advise providing us adequate firepower support from behind -- concentrate fire ahead of our advance.

This is where the 501st excels.


Whatever ace you have up your sleeve, I suggest playing it at some point -- the 222nd is here.]]

**

[[
From: FN-999]]
[[
Recipients: Gowrie, Lockhart, Tarring, Vandron]]

[[
With all due respect, I cannot remain idle.

The forces under the command of Moff Braxis on the right flank are currently engaging a sizable Alliance salient. If the Moff succeeds in cutting them off, we could knock an entire subdivision out of the Alliance defenses and gain substantial intel about enemy positions and strategy.


Don't get me wrong, I am not recommending an all-out assault. For one thing, it would be completely infeasible for Tarring to reinforce Braxis. However, I can and must do my part. The 15th will skirmish with Alliance forces adjacent to the salient to prevent it from being reinforced.

If intel-sharing is what we seek, then encircling the bulge will be essential.

I will keep you updated on developments on the right flank. Ave Rurik.]]



FN-999 was confident that he had found a middleground between Gowrie's caution and Vandron's assault.

With that in mind, he relayed his orders to the 15th itself.


[908th Legion, 15th Regiment. This is Nines. To our right, Moff Braxis is close to cutting off an Alliance salient. However, we must do our part to make sure that Alliance reinforcements do not give Braxis any trouble. All units except for those under Major Quinn, form skirmish lines and advance to lightly engage our Alliance counterparts.

Remember, this is a skirmish. The only objective we have is to keep the Alliance line from moving forwards. Put in the bare minimum offensive effort and avoid casualty-causing risks if at all possible. Avoid the heavy droids unless armor, artillery, or air support can be acquired.

Major Quinn, keep five hundred troopers up on the staging grounds as a fallback point. The other two thousand are under my direct command.

Ave Rurik.]


Two thousand stormtroopers rushed forwards with the very same vigor that fueled the 501st.

After all, they were the tip of the spear.

 

Ewan "Raider" Isaacs

Guest
E


Hesitation is a Hole in the head!
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SHIP NAME: ETHEREAL
SHIP CLASS:
CARRIER
SHIP CAPTAIN: ROGER POWELL
COMMAND STAFF
Amenediel Shuttle Mk II

AIR COMPLIMENT: "ARES WING"
CALLSIGNS: Admiral Angellus "Maverick" is and will always be "Angel 1", Captain Rojuh Pouil "Starlight" is "Angel 2" Captain Scoht Pouil "Meteor" is "VOODOO 1". Captain Ewan Isaacs "Raider" is "SCAR 1" and in command of the Jackals primarily for both ships. Each Squadron leader makes up the remaining "Angel" callsigns, their individual squadrons and make-ups are named below.

SPACIAL COMBAT AND RENDITION - SCARs use the Jackal Fighter for its balance of speed and maneuverability as well as its remote capabilities. This allows the elite pilot/operators to"bail" and operate in zero-G often a tactic in boarding capital ships.

SCAR WING (7 Squadrons)
  1. SCAR 2-10 Jackal Class Starfighter
STEALTH/RECON FIGHTER (5 Squadrons)
  1. Ares 1-6 Azazael class Stealth fighter
LONG-RANGE INTERCEPTION (5 Squadrons)
  1. Ares 7-12 Archangel class Fighter/Interceptor
MULTIPURPOSE SUPERIORITY FIGHTER (5 Squadrons)
  1. Ares 13–17 Ashera Class Fighter
SUPPORT/TRANSPORTS
  1. Ares 18 Cherub Gunship
  2. Ares 19-20 Cherub Transport

ETHEREAL - SALEUCAMI ORBIT
LAUNCH BAY
A FEW SHORT HOURS AGO

[Any text inside this style of brackets indicates COMM traffic]

[Salt, you ready?]

[Turn and burn. What’s our orders?]

[Right now, we stick to Jacks.]

[Really? We have a chance to go after a big boy!]

[A few of them, but this isn’t our fight. We’re here as a backup.]

[*sigh* Copy that.]

[Sir, I will be the Overwatch Rep for Scar Teams, we are working on getting reconnaissance information for you as we speak.]

[1.1]

[Scars be alert for solar winds when approaching New Alderaan, prepare to launch.]

OPEN SPACE- APPROACHING NEW ALDERA PLATFORM
JACKAL 1.1 - CAPTAIN EWAN “RAIDER” ISAACS
RIGHT NOW


In a snap of light the fighters of “SCAR Team”(Not the Imperial SpecOps) dropped out of the short hyperspace jump. Unlike the other fighters that were separating and branching off, these sleek jet black fighters were screaming in almost as one unit.

[All SCARs report in.]

[2:1]

[3:1]

[4:1]

[5:1]

[6:1]

[7:1]

[8:1]

[9:1]

[10:1]


[Tallyho Boys! It’s open season on Bombers, but when we get the call we’ll pick a support ship and bail before “Zero G” to the bridge and breach. When we secure each bridge we shut down the weapons systems and make way back to our fighters. We’re not going to stop the Destroyers, but we’ll definitely take open up the fighter lanes.

Guns up!]

As the fighters formed up, they were going after targets of opportunity and kept Imperial fighters off of them and allies, but any preferred targets for the time being were bombers, especially those approaching the Nirvana fleet. They would get their pound of flesh, they all knew it, this was just a matter of waiting it out.

Right now, entering the system, getting recon information for Liram Angellus Liram Angellus and targeting any bombers attacking Nirvana (Angellus' fleet) or GA ships.
 
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Lieutenant Sara 'Meteor' Roche
GADF Marines, 222nd Nova Corps, 121st (Augmented) Battalion, 3rd Company, 3rd Platoon, Ad-hoc Squad

Location: Southern sector, New Aldera, New Alderaan
Objective: Halt the Imperial offensive
ENGAGING: Melvain Braxis Melvain Braxis
Relative Proximity: Saul Vandron Saul Vandron DECEASED Aron Gowrie DECEASED Aron Gowrie FN-999 Bex Tarring Bex Tarring || Bayaz Bayaz Ibra Sest Ibra Sest Shorurra Groznik



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"Do not curse me in the afterlife then. I gave you a choice. You chose." With Force enhanced speed he was almost a blur. He sped into a pair of troopers, stopping just before them and turning the weapons to slag in their hands with his blade as they brought the barrels to bear. He swung his off-hand towards the wreck of the transport and sent the pair flying through the air with the Force. One landed with a sickening crunch and the transport tilted slightly from the sudden impact.

"For the Empire." The white knight fell on the group of marines like a hungry nexu, blade dancing a deadly ballet.

Sara fired the grenade launcher as Melvain flew forward into a pair of troopers. The projectile arced past him. If he reacted blindly and cut at the grenade, well, even Imperial Knights have trouble walking away from a faceful of shrapnel and a high explosive charge a metre away from them. If he did not, the projectile would wobble past him and detonate behind him, several metres away, sending shrapnel into his back and exposed head while the shockwave impacted him. Even before the projectile detonated, Sara spun up her Chainblaster and unleashed a hail of bolts

<"Maintain fire ring!"> While Marines were trained in blade combat, they still fared better at range, and they now fell into practice formation, scattering into a loose arc around the Knight, and keeping Melvain at a distance as he dashed to and fro, peppering him with blaster bolts from all directions before he could close to lightsaber range of any one of them.


Major Quinn, keep five hundred troopers up on the staging grounds as a fallback point. The other two thousand are under my direct command.

From above, Weq'Al poured fire at Braxis before calling on the comms:

<"Sir we have a large force from the southeast. Estimate... at least several hundred on the move,"> the Bothan reported. <"They're heading directly north to the 94th's position with Captain Bayaz Bayaz .">

Sara cursed under breath. So much for reinforcements. She was on her own against the Knight and any forces he might have in the vicsinity, and that was if they were lucky enough for FN-999 two thousand to skirt past this engagement. From the corner of her eye she sported Harkin and his fireteam emerge from the corner of the ring of destroyed vehicles, ready to flank.

<"Deploy explosives and sonics! Keep the Imp on his toes!>

Some of the others deployed sonic grenades to stun the Knight as he dashed towards them. The closest trooper to Braxis fired a scattergun blast and close range before drawing a blade, barreling into the Knight. If the Knight could be forced back in the direction of Harkin, the ring of fire would be closed and Braxis would have little choice but to exit and reset the battlefield or survive the barrage of fire.

 
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Traumatized Carrier-Loving Mess
(AP: Armor Plating, SH: Shielding, SF: Starfighter Squadrons)

[Approaching New Alderaan - Objective II]
[ANV Lightmaker - CIC]

[Tag List: Ignacious Korvan Ignacious Korvan , FN-999 , Ari Naldax , Liram Angellus Liram Angellus , Caarlyle Rausgeber Caarlyle Rausgeber , Kaul "Joker" Emos Kaul "Joker" Emos , Mylo Thorne]

She took no pride in the bloody, violent nature of her occupation-- and yet, there was something gruesomely satisfying about being on the offensive, about charging into the path of a hostile fleet rather than being caught on the receiving end of someone else's attack. Despite her flotilla's roaming mission statement, Liedran had been an active participant in those latter engagements a great deal many times. Empress Teta, the very battle that had taken her off duty for nearly a month had seen her on the receiving end of a Brotherhood attack. She supposed she'd just been itching for another chance to prove herself, for an engagement fought on the Alliance's own terms.

Her enemies here weren't the Brotherhood, however. They were Imperials, and bound to be among them were officers she'd fought alongside only a few campaigns prior. Karking politics... The Rear Admiral drew a long, regretful breath. She was oddly still for the amount of motion otherwise happening aboard and outside her flagship.


The 74th Flotilla fanned outward in the direction of the Imperial fleet-- Lightmaker and a pair of corvette carriers situated at the aft-most corner while their surrounding escorts formed a moving bulwark against the enemy's oncoming assault. Weapons dotted along the hulls of each vessel began to charge at a greatly diminished capacity, focusing more on rate of fire than on matching the strength of their first barrage. As they began to close in on a pocket of Imperial vessels, the 43rd fleet of Ignacious Korvan Ignacious Korvan , the Alliance vessels' helm officers were ordered to fire their ships' complements of retrograde maneuvering jets. Sooner or later, the heaviest vessels would halt almost entirely to provide support at range, covering the flotilla's lightest while they skirmished in the space between the two fleets.

But that moment would be slow to arrive. Right now, the 74th was only gradually accelerating deeper into range of the Empire's weapons, a growing swarm of friendly starfighters following close behind.

The CIC was an uninterrupted flurry of motion, waves of transmissions running into and out of the wide, machine-logged room. Handlers barking to their assigned squadrons, comm techs receiving hasty updates from the rest of the flotilla's vessels. Liedran clearly heard the OOD shouting at the engineering staff to "stand by for a big one."

One after another, the
Lightmaker's command staff braced themselves at their consoles and chairs. Furious bombardment from the 43rd swiped across the Alliance flotilla, miscellaneous rounds turning into bursts of loose energy when they met the 74th's shields. Lightmaker, the carrier corvettes, the Sacheens and Auroras bore the brunt of the counterattack. The lightly shielded corvettes especially began to wobble slightly off course, victim to lines of shielding capacitors bursting across their decks.

Liedran gritted her teeth, watching the scene unfold on the forward viewer. The battle was far from over, and the scattered damage across her formation had been ultimately inconsequential. But it wasn't exactly that strong a start, not with how quick the Imperials had been to make their responding salvos.

At the order of their respective carriers' captains, elements of the 74th's combined air wing began to pick up the pace and eventually speed ahead of the rest of the flotilla, rushing into melees with their Imperial counterparts, careful to keep a distance from hostile screening vessels until the rest could catch up.

The Admiral drew another long inhale, looming watchfully over an updating informational brief, waiting for the numbers to start plummeting.
 

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C A V A L I E R
THE EMPIRE
NEW ALDERAAN | NEW ALDERA
Aaran Tafo Aaran Tafo

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QUICK

The Jedi’s words fell on deaf ears, his wisdom naught but fallacies and delusions. The Imperial Crusader with all the years he had lived and survived, believed Aaran was a fool from the Jedi’s teachings. Their intentions were, theoretically, noble, but were terrible in practice as he witnessed in his youth. Corruption was evident, but there was nothing to do about it. With all the power they had, none even dare raised their voice in protest.

There was no convincing the Jedi the error of his beliefs, nor did Simon have any intent in doing so. Aaran was deeply rooted with the Jedi Code as was Simon with the Imperial Knights.

He didn’t bother retorting back with words, but he would with his saber. Recognizing the stance of Soresu, believing the Jedi to be a practitioner in its arts. A form for the elderly warriors, though Simon preferred to be aggressive and always be on the attack.

His saber was raised up, belonging to Djem So, and struck first with intent on dismembering Aaran’s shoulder.

As promised there would be no mercy for the Jedi.
 

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V E N O M _ S N A K E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
NEW ALDERA
ARMOR

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MIDNIGHT SHADOW

The small hum from the descending lift ceased when it came to a stop and opened for the Phantom to exit. There were no signs of activity within the area, but there was of recent activity from a quick glance of the current environment. Some splatters of blood here and there, weapons scattered about, but there were not bodies he could find. Obviously there was a fight, but who was the victor in the small skirmish?

Was it a trap? Maybe, yet he cared little of it. It was nothing compared to being blown via heavy cannons from orbit. A trap here would be modest at best.

<“This is Snake, anyone within my vicinity?”> to see if there were anyone nearby to respond back to his comms. Nothing, not even a scream of air or a breath of air to flair his nerves.

A nuisance to not even get shot at when the whole place was crawling with SIA agents. Did they simply forget this area or did so on purpose?

Plenty of questions which he’d find the answers to them by himself. Walking with urgency, reflexes ready to gun down anything that crosses his sights. Picking up pace when he could see a door leading out from here into wherever it lead to; a hallway or to a room. Hoping to find something to lead him to the right direction of his mission.

THE TRICKSTER
Maijan Paisea Maijan Paisea
 


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CAPTAIN OF TORTUGA COMPANY
222ND NOVA CORPS | 512TH LEGION | 312 ATTACK BATALLION

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Black and orange, the armour had been tell-tale, but she hoped to whatever end, that a former comrade was not who she’d need to cut down today.

Doubt's final vestiges washed away when he removed his helmet. Undeniably, that was Saul Vandron. And it seemed, as the late Chancellor Tagge had called it — “I stand with you in believing that the Sith Empire is a villain that must be stopped. But, when the dust settles, what will you be?"the dust had settled. And those that had been part of a New Imperial Order were now something worse.

Disappointment hardened and settled in the lines around her eyes and the corners of her mouth.

It was a shame that fear bred traitors. Saul had always had a thin level of fear around him — mostly the concept of failure, and inadequacy. Over shared meals, he’d proclaimed everlasting purpose to names and causes that would long outlive the stones of Empires and Alliances alike.

That same veil of consequential fear covered Saul even now as he launched mercilessly from one corpse to create another.

She’d have none of it.

Immediately her cobalt blade flashed up, deflecting his first strike. Right-left-right-left, in quick succession the songsteel chimed out a chorus in rhythmic exchanges. Again and again, the steel glanced from the plasma.

“Shame —” Osarla grunted, and managed, barely, to maintain her mountainous position blow for blow. Every inch she gave, Saul greedily consumed.

“– that ya managed to get helluva lot older without —” When one of his heavy strikes came in from the right, she intercepted with a clear line of blue meant to redirect and drag his blade from its trajectory. At the same time, her massive mit reached out and clamped around the the wrist that wielded the hilt of that songsteel blade.

“—Gettin' any wiser.” She snarled and tightened her grip enough to create fissures in the armour around the impact area. Simultaneously, she yanked his wrist forward and drove her elbow into his throat.




ALLIES | GA | NJO | INDIRECT | Bayaz Bayaz | Ibra Sest Ibra Sest | TORTUGA COMPANY
FOES | THE EMPIRE | Saul Vandron Saul Vandron


 
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Handsome blindfolded hyper-religious whackjob
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Location: New Aldera
Equipment: Azoth Talisman of Iron Fists
Opposing: Simon Meinrad Simon Meinrad

How disappointing, seems the Lapdog had no interest in banter. Their lack of interest in defending themselves verbally spoke volumes. When faced with tyranny, the man who stays silent is as bad as any oppressor. Perhaps Simon did not need to feel the need to justify his actions because they already revelled in their situation.

It was a temptation he could understand. To use their gifts in an attempt to more actively control the Galaxy around them. To force the path that they believed to be right. Barely a day went by when the idle thought of just walking into the senate building and simply nudging some of the weaker minds along a certain path crossed his mind. Poke and prod over the course of a few days until a new bill was signed that helped people more. Raising the minimum wage or better access to public services.

But that would mean he was the one to decide the fate of countless trillions. That he'd taken the free will of others into his own hand and twisted it for his own purposes. Oh sure, it would have begun with the best of intentions. But once that door was opened, closing it would be a difficult task. His manipulations would grow, picking and choosing what politicians would say what. Needing to become more subtle to avoid his fellow Jedi noticing his manipulations and trying to stop his 'good work' with their own good intentions.

Next thing you know, he's cackling like a madman and shooting lightning at his former allies.

No. To control people like that was nothing but hubris. Guide and advise, never control, never rule. Trust in the Will of the Force instead of trying to subvert its power for your own aims. Who was he to make these kinds of decisions for others? He could offer consuel, he could protect the helpless. But he could never take the choice from them.

He could be a banner to rally behind. But others had to find the courage to pick up their own swords and fight with him.

Speaking of the fight, he needed to ensure this duel was not his last. Mind shifting gears as it processed the sensory information that was fed to him by The Force, his own saber raising to parry the downward strike from Simon's Falling Avalanche. Angling the blade downwards looking to deflect the strike and angle it away from his body as opposed to directly contesting his strength against it.

Djem So was a nasty form, well suited for lightsaber combat. But the biggest disadvantage was that due to its reliance on extreme power, users risked tiring themselves out against practitioners of more conservative forms.

So Aaran knew he didn't have to beat Simon to win, he just had to buy enough time for the Imperial Knight to tire themselves out. Every second they dueled, another civilian escaped, resources were stolen from the Empire's grasp. Victory was often far more than a simple physical contest.

And so, with the strike quickly parried and deflected. Aaran countered with a swift swipe of his own to Simon's midsection. Not a killing blow, merely a test, an opening jab at their defences so the former Battlemaster could get a better grasp of what he was dealing with.
 
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F I S T _ O F _ T H E _ E M P I R E
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION
SHADOWS OF TREACHERY
IRON STORM
MY MOTHER TOLD ME
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Sparks exploded in a fiery show as the blade and saber clashed denying the general purchase. The pandemonium of war drowned underneath the ear-splitting crash of unbreakable steel meeting unyielding plasma as the battlefield blurred into a blend of grit, fire, and blood around them. Each heavy blow of his thundering like a raging storm against the cobalt calm ocean of hers.

Adrenaline burned through his veins and sweat evaporated through the pores of his flesh as Saul submerged into the ecstasy of battle. He could hear the beating of Amaxine war drums, the product of his own distant memories, but what he saw was not the stupor of fear in the eyes of his enemy, rather it was a glare full of regret, disappointment..

..."Shame —"

The word reeked of that same hypocrisy from the Core but its stench was corrosive when it came from the lips of a former comrade. He snarled beneath the helmet and stepped forth more aggressively than before only to be swallowed by the unpredictable currents of the ocean; her hand seized his sword-wielding wrist and the vambrace buckled under her strain, fissures splitting open across the surface of the metal. Saul grunted in pain as the strength of the grip reached his wrist beyond the chainmail bodyglove.

Instinctively, he hurled a fist with his free hand but it was intercepted by an elbow crashing against the gorget in his throat. The warrior choked sharply from the sudden interference of his rhythm and naturally took a step back before his hand snapped to capture her own saber-wielding wrist leaving them both helmet-to-face, each scurrying to overpower the other.

"—Gettin' any wiser."

Saul's lips curved the grit of teeth into a sneer. "And yet, I was not the one demonized and hunted by my own." he taunted, referring to the New Jedi's return from the Stygian and the subsequent tragic events leading to the Sacking of Coruscant.

"You'd make a fine Knight, Osarla." he hurled a kick into her abdomen to liberate them both from their interlock.

ALLIES: The Empire | INDIRECT: DECEASED Aron Gowrie DECEASED Aron Gowrie | Bex Tarring Bex Tarring | Tyrell Lockhart Tyrell Lockhart | FN-999
ENEMIES: The Galactic Alliance | The Tion Republic | Osarla Ridor Osarla Ridor | INDIRECT: Bayaz Bayaz | Ibra Sest Ibra Sest | Shorurra Groznik
 

Kyell Laysel

Guest
K

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Location: New Aldera
Tag: Sahar Sahar

He was getting closer.

This time, the hot plasma of his blade grazed the woman's armor, and while that meant she took no real injuries, he felt as if he was getting in the flow better. A powerful leg kick followed to try and take her by surprise, but he should have known that she'd see through it and present a solid block — so far she hadn't even touched her lightsaber and relied only on martial arts to evade or neutralize his attacks.

This time it left him open again, but rather than a more typical follow-up attack, Sahar rushed him and pulled him into a vicious headbutt. The woman's head connected with his nose, breaking it on impact and sending a wave of blood down his lips and chin while he was left staggered and hurt.

<T> "Is that..." he spit some of his own blood away and tried to regain his balance <T> "...Everything you got?" he flashed her a toothy grin that showed the blood in his mouth, hoping that it would only anger her more. It was something he'd likely regret to some extent, but perhaps he could find a way to break through her guard if she lost control. It was a risk he was willing to take because a traditional fight was almost guaranteed to end with his death.


<T> "Disappointing,"

Again she just seemed to wait for him to make a move, and again, Kyell settled on a little plan that would further provoke her. This time, he closed the distance and made a subtle wrapping motion with his fingers as he connected with the Force. He extended its invisible strings to her dominant leg and pulled on it in an attempt to throw her off balance. At the same time, he thrust his lightsaber forward, hoping to connect the tip with the thigh of her other leg.

There was no need for big hits — he doubted he'd land those — but he could try to more precise strikes against her limbs to cripple her.


 
4th post
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SHADOWS OF TREACHERY: THE TION NECESSITY
AN AGE OF STRIFE STORY


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WILDCAT_ONE
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MAJOR-GENERAL OF WILDCAT DIVISION

BELIGERENTS
(IMPAF VS. GADF)


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Saul Vandron Saul Vandron FN-999 Bex Tarring Bex Tarring Veno Veno
Nukth Kelga'an Nukth Kelga'an Sahar Sahar Tyrell Lockhart Tyrell Lockhart
Melvain Braxis Melvain Braxis Jerec Yularen Jerec Yularen Rakaan Horne Rakaan Horne


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Shorurra Groznik Bayaz Bayaz Liedran Kathause Liedran Kathause
Qzekov Korvan Toldreyn Korvan Toldreyn Sara Roche Sara Roche Ibra Sest Ibra Sest
Sol Stazi Sol Stazi Kyell Laysel Osarla Ridor Osarla Ridor

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TRIBULATIONS OF THE WILDCATS: CLASH OF CIVILISATIONS - PART FOUR
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SOUTH-WESTERN BATTLEFRONT, NEW ALDERA,
NEW ALDERAAN, TION CLUSTER (EARLY 877 ABY)


'Protecting Galidraan from New Aldera, aye? Hmph, whatever you need to tell yourself, Growie. Don't speak to me about propaganda and try to pass off an invasion as an act of justice. An ambassador was killed. You suppose the people of New Alderaa were the assassins?'

A pertinent reply, and though the Kellas disagreed on the earlier point, he couldn't help but admit the Wookie's retort had been build on honest, well-researched foundations. However, despite the appreciative, head-tilted raise of eyebrows, Lord Aron couldn't help but feel that the spy-war between COMPNOR and the SIA had greater general hand in the sequence of events that led to such an assassination. It all stank to high-heaven, and on this matter in particular, Gowrie knew they could agree, even if the way both reached such a conclusion differed greatly, so no lasting grievances on their contrasting motivations would ever touch base in relevance to the formations of their rivalry. With Groznik, there would be nothing but the fight itself, and in anticipation of this specific detail, the Tuath listened on patiently - silently elated at the prospect of a proper challenge again.

Lord Aron knew the Wookies were formidable warriors, and renowned across the Galaxy as such, but being a Goidel and knowing what his human tribe were capable of, the renown his people had earned was enough to know that Wildcat Division were capable of standing toe-to-toe against them. And like the friends and comrades of Shorurra, Lord Aron's subordinates were keen to test their mettle against the fiercest of assailants - and the Wookies were fiercer than most in almost every historical account on their exploits.

'I will answer to the proper authorities when the time comes Gowrie, and not a moment sooner. Now what do you want? Why did you call me here?'

'I told you why, to present you with options, and both are potentially favourable at that.', the Tuath began, weighing his words more carefully for the obligatory attempt to keep the Ashlans out of the war with the Galactic Alliance. The Maw was requirement enough to test the patience of both factions in the maintained partnership against the forces of Exegol, and in the process of trying to keep those bonds safe between both factions, the attempt to help their citizen through a diplomatic issue would certainly help to keep such ties as solidified as possible. Ever the one to keep from rocking the boat, Lord Aron knew the lawful, mannerly approach would be the best course of action, adopting a kindly demeanour as he prefaced,'I don't mind either way, just to let you know. Each choice has it's own form of assistance, but you need to survive to enjoy the benefits of either.... Sorry, man. But both lines are engaging today, though we can put that down to bad timing.', a sobering thought for both Generals to consider.

'If you choose to escape to Ashlan space, nearest friendly system as well, I can try arranging a meeting with their current Pontiff, rendering such explanations for authorities almost completely redundant. Choosing to go above their jurisdictional powers, so to speak.... An' if you choose to make the long journey to GA space, I request that you take my sword to Cotan Sar'andor, a Jedi-warrior of whom I know you can trust.'
 


Control over one's body was essential to mastering lightsaber combat and using the Force. To be able to understand where your body was at all times in relation to your enemy's was imperative to survive not only their assault but also in making sure you did not injure or kill yourself with your own foolish movements. Jumping into a blade, flourishing a lightsaber, and lopping off a limb, deflecting a bolt into an explosive too close to yourself. He wasn't sure how the Jedi trained this out of their padawans, but the Imperial Knights had been brutally efficient. They had to be when training to fight Sith, monsters not held back like the Jedi by sentiments and religious ideals from using the Force to its utmost potential for destruction.

It was only this control that allowed Melvain to leap over one of the marines as a grenade overhead and not slice it to ribbons. He pushed, and propelled it further off into the distance before coming down on the other side and ramming his blade through the chest of the marine he'd used as a springboard. He gripped the man by his gorget and charged, letting the blaster bolts ping and tear up the marine as he closed the distance. They had formed a ring around him though and moving in one direction just opened up more room between him and other marines. He cursed and pulled the lightsaber through the side of the marine, flinging his lifeless body behind him. His off-hand outstretched from the push he called his second lightsaber to it, the lightsaber of his former master, dead too soon on some backwater Chiss world.

Waste. War was waste. By the Force, he was tired of waste.

The second blade erupted in a flash of white light to meet the bolts of his enemies. The scatter blast took him partially in the shoulder, spinning him around in time to meet the foolish blade of his opponent. The blaster was a marine's weapon and Melvain could tell these men and women were not ready to fight Knights of the Empire. He lamented as he let the blade slide across his lightsaber, the heat from his blade slagging the edge as it ran down to Mel's hilt. The second blade came down at the man's elbows cutting through the armor and bodysuit with little resistance.

Blaster bolts peppered around them trying to clip or kill Mel while still attempting to avoid their foolish comrade who had run in thinking he would be a hero. An elbow into the screaming man's nose silenced him and a toss with the Force sent him flying towards another part of the ring. The chain gun was the most difficult. The sniper a close second. As the now armless man fell he threw his secondary saber, controlling it in an arc around him cutting and slicing at weapons and hands as he did his best to keep the other bolts away from him through his acrobatics and swordplay, relying heavily on Soresu as he dashed for the new opening in the circle towards the downed transport.

 

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The pace of the Orbak was steady and so they had managed to escape the city limits through the scout route and made their way through the forests and up the hills quite easily. Much faster than had they done on foot. The droids had been harder to hide. If he was being honest he doubted they didn't know they had at least left the city. After a certain point, he'd had to just leave the droids where they were with a small support squad and a few battle droids. The rest continued the gallop.

That had been a time ago. Long before he'd even heard from Lieutenant Roche. He'd heard of her. Some called her meteor for her fiery temper, some called her Roach because she just refused to die. Either way, it was worrying to hear that her convoy had been ambushed so close to the city. But there wasn't anything he could do except hope that she lived up to both names today.

"Oi Gancho," one of the marines tapped a pair of quadnocs against his shoulder plate. Marcus looked down at the metal hand holding the goggles and took them, nodding appreciatively. "Looks to be a whole gaggle of Stormies. Lot more than we brought." Marcus nodded. They weren't even at full strength, having left the Colossus droids a good distance behind. Even if they had brought them could a company really take on THAT many men?

"Gancho, ain't that the direction you said Roach sent an SOS from?"

"Ahhhh Sith spit," Marcus muttered. "The men were already checking powerpacks and readying grenades. A few of the New Alderaanian scouts looked terrified but determined. "Take the fastest Orbak back to B6 and the others," he ordered. "Then keep going. Tell them what we saw here. Approximately regiment-sized group of Stormies moving en masse towards the city from the hills. Go. Now!" The scouts looked at one another before a blonde woman on a red orbak nodded and galloped off at full speed back the way they had come. Marcus' helmet hissed as the seal closed around his neck.

"For the Alliance! For the Republic!"

There was a roar from the one-armed marine as he hefted his heavy chainblaster and leaped from the ledge onto the unsuspecting march. The Orbaks rode down soon after, screaming their battle cries for New Alderaan and the Tion Republic, their hooves sending up clods of soil and mud and rock. The rest of the "Tin Men" weren't far behind shouting curses and battle cries. The battle droids followed, their silent gaze fixed on the stormtroopers, their blasters already opening fire. A few smart ones stayed behind on the ledge firing from above.

Marcus landed with a thud before he tucked and charged before throwing himself into a roll and letting a grenade fly as he came up against a fallen tree. The thermal imploder arced across the air, landing at the feet of several stormtroopers. The sound was glorious.


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STALKER
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Objective: II - Aegis of Liberty
Location: New Aldera Defense Base - Outskirts
Tags: Lily Stevens | Aien Mueller


Troopers
18/20

The once tranquil valley in which the Orbital Defense Base was nestled within had become anything but. Alarms blared loudly throughout the area as soon as Margo and her strike team assaulted the South-Western approach of the base, timing their strike with Lily Stevens' team to near-perfect coordination. At first, the approach was quiet and methodical as snipers took care to coordinate shots and eliminate guards stationed on overwatch above the entry hatch. Within moments thereafter, the team rushed to the hatch and breached through the outer gate before anyone knew what hit them.

Her fireteam had made strong progress in the aftermath, clearing through the interior yard up to another, smaller fence separating the barracks and security-related outposts from the more crucial bunkers and installations of the base. As they approached, a heavy repeater unleashed - cutting like a buzz-saw through the first two troopers who led the formation. The remainder of the fireteam followed suit as Margo ducked behind cover in the form of a small upraised row of steel-siding used to line a pathway which fed into a network connecting the outer security buildings, in the form of a half-recessed half-upraised trench. Sandbags lined the exterior portion of the siding, which served to absorb a majority of the follow up fire that nearly riddled Margo. Just as she was about to dedicate herself to dealing with the present situation, Reaper’s voice bled over their shared comm frequency.

<Stalker, Reaper.>
<Eyes open. There are Jedi in here, backing the Tionese. We got our work cut out for us. Reaper out.>

‘Great...’ Margo thought, mentally cursing for the developing situation.

<“Copy - we will be breaching the main building momentarily. Save a few of the monks for me, will you?”>

She did not wait for a response, but instead set about getting her squad moving. “Corporal! Front and center!”

“Sir!” A stormtrooper wearing the shoulder flap of a corporal shuffled next to Stalker, after which she wasted little time in explaining her plan:

“I want our rpg armed troopers deployed down the line approximately 20 meters, and ready to fire on that MG nest on my mark.”

“Copy!” the corporal dutifully replied, waving over at a private wielding a modified variant of a battle rifle with a barrel-mounted grenade launcher. They exchanged words over the comm, after which the private in question quickly rushed over approximately 20 meters behind them and clicked his ready signal.

“Covering fire on my mark - when I run, I want that trooper to nail the tits on that nest.” The implication was clear - enough to give the corporal pause at what Margo was suggesting. But it was the easiest choice. Margo’s armor was shielded, and could weather a few glancing shots from that repeater nest. Their armor... would likely not fare as well.

“...Yes sir.”

Upon receiving confirmation, Margo paused for a moment, then as she rose up she shouted: “Mark!” Like a blitzball player pushing through the offensive line, Margo rushed from cover and surged laterally to the heavy repeater nest. The gunner was clearly waiting for such a maneuver, as he quickly opened fire as she did so. Several bolts peppered the ground mere centimeters away from her feet. A second longer, and the stormtroopers behind her rose up and loosed a volley of fire upon the emplacement. The gunner had a copious amount of sandbags lining his nest, yet the fire did much to shield him from most of the fire. Even so, he was quick to rotate around and direct his fire back on the troopers. But that was when the grenade shot forth.

An explosion rocked the emplacement, throwing an entire section of sandbag off and causing it to cascade down into a heap of debris; leaving him completely exposed. Margo’s well trained reflexes capitalized on the situation, with the SCAR trooper quick to raise her rifle and loose a trio of shots. A tight cluster of particle blasts caused the gunner’s chest cavity to rupture, which resulted in his body to keel over the opposite sandbag wall and fall ignominiously to his end. The squad was quick to round up as Margo pushed forward. She tilted her head to the corporal, and said off-handedly: “...looks like you all are the ones that can actually hit a target.”

The corporal craned his head back and stared at Margo from behind his helmet. Although their expressions were masked from each other, Margo’s lips creased into a broad, kark-eating smile as she imagined his was completely and totally unamused. The fireteam made it to the south-western access gate and initiated breaching maneuvers. Margo placed herself at the right side of the door while a stormtrooper placed detonation charges along seams of the door. Within moments, she received a thumbs up, after which the corporal held up the detonator.

Margo and company leaned back for cover as the button was pressed. The door erupted inward with a resounding BANG, with another trooper throwing a flashbang a millisecond after.

No, these weren’t the same type of stormtroopers.

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Imperial Arbiter of the Outer Rim





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D I P L O M A C Y _ R E I G N I N G

Tag: Aerarii Tithe
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"Though I must say, your offer of support from the Empire has, shall we say, piqued my interest. Yes, I would very much like to reestablish trade between our two nations, now that a new dawn has risen over Bastion."

As he sat down, it took Julius a handful of seconds to realise he was speaking to the embodiment of his greatest foe. In all its splendour, the Alliance was represented by this man, a corporatist. What a shame! He had fought an army, and he faced bureaucrats. Desperate ones, as it seemed. The way Tithe had jumped on Moff's offer to reopen trade... Was their expansionist policy in the South a failure? If such was the case, then strings were to be pulled... but Haskler did not forget that Tithe would not be Chancellor very long afterwards. And he could use that too.

As was expected, the Chancellor insisted on Tion's sovereignty, but the diplomat had seen more adversative interlocutors. He had quickly abandoned Tion for the trade, even though he had also mentioned Kuat's fate. Now was the time to tread carefully, and get the most out of their conversation. In all respects, Tithe could give ground regarding Tion, if Julius agreed to let go of the Iron Curtain... but perhaps he could still come back on his word, once Tion had been dealt with. And after that...

"Tion's status remains to be determined, I think, Chancellor. Everything depends on the... freedom of movement the Tionese are ready to give us, in order to investigate the murder of one of my dear colleagues. If they are not ready to yield, then the Empire shall find out more about the murder by force. And I dare say people trying to obstruct the works of justice usually find themselves on the wrong side of history. That is, of course, if the Alliance finds some interest in encouraging the Tionese to resist. We might settle on a deal regarding the Iron Curtain, don't you think, Chancellor?

The Empire's isolationist policy has allowed it to nurture an industrial powerhouse, but our recent progress in the domain of excavation meant we were forced to stockpile vast quantities of raw material we would be glad to fuel the Core with. If the Alliance agrees to reopen trade, we would be happy to terminate the situation here with haste, under the watch of some third-party observers, if that pleases you, and preside over the fate of the Tionese in a later conference. No one, I think, would benefit from relations souring, or from conflicts becoming deadlocks. The public... wouldn't accept it, and your friends not much either.

He chuckled for a moment, then regained his composure. Shaping the fate of the Alliance in the next months was now.

I say, your friends... but for how long exactly, Chancellor? I know your... operations at the head of the Alliance allowed a number of corporations and financial interests to grow and prosper, but with the advent of power of anti-corporatists, I fear your associates might get clamped down on. The economic situation in the Core does not look brilliant... The Alliance is short on liquidities... The Maw incursions have sparked a crisis of faith in the markets...
Let me speak freely, Chancellor: your friends profited a lot from your position, first as Vice-Chancellor, then as Supreme Chancellor. But, what is next? Your political carrier seems to be coming to a close, and you will have trouble securing already-drowning markets in the Core. Maybe your associates will find you have outlived your usefulness... But I'm sure a man of so many talents, like you, has already prepared contingencies in case of such a dramatic event.
"

He let the silence fall after his last words, his final sentence both a question and a veiled threat. Julius wanted to know how to use the man. He wanted to brew strife in the Core through him. And he knew some, in the Empire, might have some use of a corporatist too.



 
She starts blindly firing at imperial troopers while she is behind cover, too afraid to peak her head out due to the possibility of a sniper nearby. Checking her pouches for extra ammo to notice that there's almost nothing left, she tosses her rifle down and pulls out an old clone pistol and starts firing at a squad of imperials that were nearby.

"Come at me you imp bastards! I'll take you all on for the glory of the Alliance!" the occasional blaster bolt passing by her and hitting the ground around her feet. The adrenaline to flowing now, and all she cares about is taking out as many imperials as possible until some form of backup arrive.
 
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THE MONSTER
NIV Tregessar
Objektiv III
Direct Engagement: Liram Angellus Liram Angellus
Enemies of the State: Ewan "Raider" Isaacs | Ari Naldax | Maple Harte | Andien Gale | Shar Sieu | Liedran Kathause Liedran Kathause
Allies: Albrecht F. Herlock | Ignacious Korvan Ignacious Korvan | Velran Kilran Velran Kilran

Right, so a TL;DR for you first. First, Carlyle is firing some batteries your way Liedran. Consider it largely white noise, you know just sort of swinging a wild haymaker. Although he has his two artillery frigates throwing some shade. So watch for two HVC rounds. Fighters are now deployed, but in defensive arrays, to avoid another Executor. Also the KriegsGeist is now on. KriegsGeist is basically an artificial version of battle meditiation. Also Rausgeber has thrown on the gravity wells for good measure.

The Tregessar is now advancing toward you Catlin, and is throwing a barrage of missiles at you. And he's given the order for Herlock to sort of hold back and make sure the enemy doesn't out manouvere, and reinforce down below.

NIV Tregessar, Prefsbelt-Class Super Star Destroyer. (x)

NIV Conquest, Rampart Class Planetary Assault Dreadnought (x)

NIV Rapine, New Imperial i Class Star Destroyer (x)

NIV Fortitude, New Imperial i Class Star Destroyer

NIV Bombardier, Tirallieur Class Artillery Frigate (x)

NIV Halberd, Tirallieur Class Artillery Frigate

NIV Wraith, Mantero Class Missile Frigate (x)

NIV Thundercrack, Mantero Class Missile Frigate

NIV Crusher, Mantero Class Missile Frigate

NIV Warden, Stalwart Class Carrier (x)

5x Escolta-Class Frigates (x)

6x Warrior-ii Class Gunships (x)

4x Cacadore Class Assault Corvettes (x)

Fighter Comps is MIA because I am very tired after work and am a mathematics dyslexic.

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The bridge of the Tregessar rocked not even a minute after Carlyles broadcast finished. The droning hum of alarms began to drawl as crewmen were knocked from their station. Carlyle was shunted forward and into the holographic display table, “Fire!” Carlyle growled, his voice hoarse with urgency, “Return fire!” He commanded. It appeared the Alliance had decided not to opt for any contemplation of his request. Those fools. It would at least appear on the record that the Triumvir was now authorised to crush these scum.

Jawohl milord!” Vice Admiral Cormon barked, looking to the crew pits, “Forward batteries, pepper fire on that carrier group!” He snapped, “Have the Bombardier and Halberd commence fire! Double barrage!” Cormon snapped, strutting down the centre of the bridge, “Two blasts for everyone of theirs!”

Carlyle meanwhile began to reconfigure the data display and the mapping of the battlefield. Fighters. So many fighters. He sneered. The fighters were going to be difficult to interdict, as was the way with strikecraft. This was not to say it was not possible, but rather it was difficult. And with one fighter, statistically, able to wipe out a squadron of storntroopers, it was critical to stem the flow. “Deploy….fighters.” Rausgeber commanded, “Keep them…. Keep them close to our vessels…” he reached to the table, retrieving his respirator, and took a hit. Eyes fluttering shut as he did. "To intercept fighter movements which…. Attempt to press to the surface.” He then looked to Cormon, “Spool the KriegsGeist.”

That would even the odds. The KriegsGeist was an advanced combat computer aid. Effectively a voice which would aid the coordination and management of vessels. Anything from tightening the gunnery sights of a turbolaser, the navigational position of a vessel, to the coordination of fighter squadrons. It was like battle meditation made manifest via computing systems. “Order the Conquest…. Have Admiral Regis…. Activate his…. And the gravity wells…” Rausgeber drawled.

My lord!” Rausgebers gaze traced the origin of the voice to the sensor sector, “Hostile vessels, Silver Jedi origin have deployed.” Carlyles face contorted into a snarl. Seemed the enemies of the Empire had seized the day. Well. It was time to punish them.

The force they had brought with them though, was not substantial. Even through the display, Rausgeber analysed the fleet as being that of a transport one. Not necessarily a large transport fleet mind you. But it appeared to be the sort to transport say, a contingent of elite troops. They would need to be halted.

Have the Wraith…. Crusher and Thundercrack…. Bombard them with missiles. Full… effect.” Rausgeber drooled, flecks of his golden-green phlegm flying through the tactical display. “Scatter them…. See if we can break them….” Carlyle growled, before eyeing the Tregessar’s own position, “Press us forward!” He barked to the navigation officers, “We will crush this… party…. Before it can begin.”

Milord,” this time the voice came from the communications crew, “Commodore Herlock sir!” Rausgebers eyes narrowed, “He requests orders from you sir.” Carlyle looked over Herlock’s force and gave a nod. It was substantial. Although for the time being, with how Korvan was proceeding, and the arrival of this new Silver Jedi flotilla? Carlyle was more concerned with the shear amount of fighters being deployed. It was only a matter of time in his mind, until some stray transport slipped through the defensive perimeter and reinforced the Tionese with Force knows what.

Inform the Commodore…. To run interception on the back line.” Rausgeber growled to his crew, “I want him to ensure that the Alliance…. Jedi…. Etcetera, do not break this blockade.” He then paused, “There are to be no escapes. No relief. Engage all fighters. All transport. Anything which slips past our batteries range.”
 

Aien Mueller

Guest
A


You know those types you don't want to meet in a dark alley?

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GOLD TEAM: Azrael (Assault/Team leader), Castiel (Assault/Pathfinder), Chamuel (Infiltrator/Slicer)
BLUE TEAM: Sauriel (Sniper 1), Michael (Sniper 2)
RED TEAM: Gabriel (Demo/EOD), Bartleby (Tech/Team Second), Samael (Heavy Weapons)
OVERWATCH:
Seraphim (Deployable Drones)
PEGASUS 1- Jeremiel(Pilot), Ariel(Weapons), Uriel (Jumpmaster/Cover fire)
FIST
RONTO 1- Uriel(Driver), Ariel(Gunner),
Annunaki Captain/Teams Overwatch - Jehova
Azrael, Bartleby, Gabriel, Sauriel, Samael, Castiel, Michael, Chamuel,
Jeremiel, Ariel, Uriel, Seraphim

[Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]
ORDERS: Rescue SJC Citizen from New Aldera Defense platform
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Tag:
Allies:
Foes: Margo Liaeris Margo Liaeris , Lily Stevens


Doctor Gresa Qinhaus was more than aware of the situation around here, but she was busy working a sickbay, volunteering her efforts as a physician. The scene, the feeling and the mood was frightening, but injuries were being delivered in droves and she would not leave them. The people here were doing good work, helping those without the ability to help themselves, odd that this is happening on a defense platform but she thought nothing of that.

She did not know that the level below her was where her “rescuers” or “kidnappers” (depending on the point of view) were coming from. They were moving silently, paying attention to the chaos around them and though they wanted to assist somehow, there was little that they were allowed to do right now. They were staying out of politics and paid no attention to the strife, they had a package to get out of there, simple as that.

It was when half the level had to be sealed off due to a crashed attack shuttle that they made their move. In through the back of the facility they quietly closed the doors and sent up information that “The beds were full.”

They had somewhere to be, the problem is, she was not going anywhere without seeing the patients secure.



yeah, we scare them.

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New Aldera Defense Base
[Open to Interaction]
Direct Tag: Mox Murgle, Sylus (Γ059) Sylus (Γ059)

– Phai! I'm just under walkway, section D, in one of maintenance shafts that feed into reactor core. Pinging for you now. – His high-pitched, nasal tone danced along the maze-like capillaries of the vents. – We need to-- – Mox would have continued, but another deep thud from behind (the volume of which indicated a much larger individual than him) could be heard throughout the shaft. Mox quickly spun back and saw what he could only categorize as a mean-looking supersoldier in a cyber-suit. Immediately, he was on the edge of fight or flight. This was bad. Thinking quick, he sent a brief reply back to Phaineve. – 'Kay, defend core. Close blastdoors. I try slow him.

"Aye aye..." she pinged back, almost regretfully, "Stay safe, Mox."

She lifted her wrist level with her gaze, pulling up a map of the facility and ducking behind a thick blast door housing. She wasn't too far from the Base's main reactor core at the moment, thankfully.

The screams and alarms were getting louder, mingling with the sounds of explosions as Imperial reinforcements continued to breach the base's perimeter. Phaineve's muscles tensed, her ears jolting upward as the shuffling of boots began to crescendo from behind. Without pausing to check if their owners were friendly, the Corellian started running, bounding down the hallway and setting a course for the center of the installation.

She threw herself into the corridor right of a T-junction, wincing as a loose round managed to graze her shoulder. Phaineve held back a yelp, and winced again as she turned to aim down the hallway she'd come from. Her pistol sputtered out two bolts before trying to melt its own firing mechanisms, knocking an approaching stormtrooper onto the floor while the other continued to barrel toward her position. Phaineve ducked back behind the corner, taking a few long steps back in preparation for a sprint.

At the first glimpse of a white helmet, she lunged out, taking hold of the soldier's helmet and using it as a fulcrum as she swung about. The trooper, not expecting his wounded enemy to even attempt to close the distance, stood shock-still and quickly fell victim to the Rebel's strike. Phaineve heard the snap of his neck by the time she tumbled onto the ground, producing a loud screech as pain shot up her arm. Alerted by the scream, she heard Imperial troopers beginning to dart toward the junction faster and faster. The former captain punched keys into a control panel, sealing off her section with the thundering slam of a reinforced blast door. The last sounds she heard clearly from beyond the door were those of SIA personnel starting a fresh engagement with their Imperial counterparts.

She couldn't possibly help them. Angrily, Phaineve picked up and continued to bound for the reactor core, leaving her former Alliance colleagues to fight and die behind her.

Still running and wincing from the pain lingering in her arm, Phaineve checked her watch. Only some 150 meters now... She could make it.

She slammed blast door after blast door shut as she ran, heart pounding with a long-forgotten fire.
 

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New Alderaan, New Aldera | Rakaan Horne Rakaan Horne


The words of his former student were knives in his chest. They did more than Rakaan likely would ever be able to with the lightsaber he held so tightly to. Yet, Korvan had already felt those barbs, he had been wearing down that wall of his own volition, cursed with memory as he was. He had not gone to his students aid, not gone to try and rescue Rakaan - because the council had deliberated and denied him the right to action. It was no excuse, no true one anyway.​
"I tried to, Rakaan."
What a useless statement. A worthless platitude. Even as he said it, Korvan seemed to understand how meaningless it was. Were he to go back, he might have acted sooner, might have ignored the council's initial refusals, and simply made his way to where Rakaan had been lost. Yet, there had been the voice in his mind that assured him the boy would be alright, he had his training - Rakaan was a greater student than he had ever seen. And yet, he had fallen so far.​
Ah, but there it was - it was not Rakaan himself that had failed by any means. Rakaan had not turned his back on the order for what had happened alone, he had been deceived, lured by a thread he may have not even known lingered. "I failed you, my boy - but that is not why you stand where you stand." It was not why he had left. Korvan's saber rested on his belt still, he dared not touch it even as Rakaan clutched to his own.​
"You have a strength greater than I, you always have - but you are blind to it. That anger, that fear - it is trying to keep you from seeing." Glancing around the lobby he stood in, Korvan's gaze wandered over rubble, distant blaster fire continued. "You never needed me to save you - but the people who live here, the innocents who the Empire is killing... They need to be saved." Korvan's eyes turned back to Rakaan, his look almost contemplative.​
"Will you abandon them? Will you leave them to die?"

 

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