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




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AN AGE OF STRIFE STORY
THE TION NECESSITY
SHADOWS OF TREACHERY


The Tion Republic remains stalwart in the face of rising Imperial aggression, their efforts to resist The Empire showing resilient success in spite of the loss of a few border worlds on the frontiers of their star cluster. Aided in part by the efforts of the Rebel Alliance in the defense of the sovereign Republic, the core worlds of Tion have yet to be brought beneath the boot of the Empire, though such defiance has not gone unnoticed, and contingencies were activated to bring them under Imperial subjugation once and for all.

Utilizing the assassination of an Imperial ambassador to the Republic as the pretext for hostilities, all perceived efforts on the Empire's behalf for negotiations and settlements have broken down completely, and the narrative within the Empire would shift to one of vengeance for the loss of their own, and the toppling of a regime which encourages the political assassination of foreign dignitaries.

Of course, the circumstances behind the assassination were muddled at best, and though none could prove that the Empire's hand had guided the plot from the start, a sliver of doubt could be inferred with enough digging into the events which led to the ambassador's death. But nonetheless, the die had been cast, and the Empire shifted its strategy from one of restraint, and dedicated the resources necessary for a full-scale invasion of the Tion Cluster at once.

The success of the invasion hinges on the victory of the Empire's primary assault group into the heart of Tion itself, a sizable contingent being dedicated to toppling the government with the subsequent invasion and occupation of its capital planet of New Alderaan, and the city of New Aldera itself.

But the Imperial Navy finds itself deterred from committing to orbital operations in scale, halted in their tracks by the strategic placement of New Aldera Orbital Defense Base on the ground, its sizable array of batteries being fully capable of delivering deadly firepower to the Imperial fleets lingering just out of weapon's range. In response to this dire threat to their operation, the Imperials enact a system-wide blockade centered around New Alderaan as its focus, and deploy several smaller task forces of light escorts and assault vessels to capture New Aldera itself, and render the Orbital Defense Base inoperative through the precision use of the Stormtrooper Corps.

Left with no other options but to fight for their sovereignty or concede to the Empire, the Tion Republic sends a call for assistance to the Galactic Alliance, their communications to the Core being arbitrated by their Rebel Alliance contacts embedded within their military. The Galactic Alliance, forever the shining beacon of democracy and freedom to the galaxy at large, responds favorably to the plight of a Republic on the brink of extinction, bringing together former allies who once fought against the Sith side-by-side, into a conflict long-brewing behind the scenes, simmering through the dogma of geopolitics and ideology, and boiling over into a clash of freedom and order.





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OBJ I - IRON STORM
SUGGESTED FOR: Duelists and Warposters




New Aldera is burning.

For weeks now, the once shining capital of the proud Alderaani refugees, has been lit ablaze in a fiery clash between the forces of the Empire and those of the Tion Republic, aided by the Galactic Alliance. Imperial Knights and Stormtroopers lead the ruthless ground offensive into the urban jungle of the city fighting against the valiant defense of Jedi and Alliance Soldiers who have been embedded amidst the people for days. Each claimed inch of concrete counts.

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OBJ II - AEGIS OF LIBERTY
SUGGESTED FOR: Special Forces & Intelligence Operatives



The New Aldera Orbital Defense Base is all that stands between New Alderaan and the might of the Imperial Fleet. Realizing its importance, the SIA, along with Jedi, have managed to commandeer its security. As a key strategic asset, one that may very well quickly clinch victory for the Empire, the Imperial High Command has sent its most elite troopers and operatives from the Special Forces and ISB to disable the deterrent that keeps the Navy at bay.

Alarms blare through the platform as the outer perimeter is breached by Imperials and the fight for each inch of the facility begins.

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OBJ III - ECLIPSE THE STARS
SUGGESTED FOR: FLEETERS and SPACE ENJOYERS



The Imperial Navy has formed a tight blockade over the world, effectively besieging and isolating it from the rest of the galaxy. With each passing day, the noose around the Tion Cluster's throat tightens. Answering the call for aid from the Tion Republic, the Alliance Navy emerges from hyperspace to relieve the defenders and break the Imperial blockade over the planet. Star Destroyers and Cruisers clash setting the very stars ablaze.​

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Suggested Reading:
  1. Imperial Ambassador Assassinated!
  2. New Alderaan
  3. The OP of this thread

 
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THE MONSTER
NIV Tregessar
Objektiv III
Direct Engagement: Liram Angellus Liram Angellus
Enemies of the State: Ewan "Raider" Isaacs | Bané Zirbils Bané Zirbils | Maple Harte Maple Harte | Andien Gale Andien Gale | Shar Sieu Shar Sieu | Liedran Kathause Liedran Kathause
Allies: Albrecht F. Herlock Albrecht F. Herlock | Ignacious Korvan Ignacious Korvan | Velran Kilran Velran Kilran
If I missed anyone, LMK. Also fleet comp isn't in yet cos I am a sleep deprived wreck.
T H E M E
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The bridge of the NIV Tregessar almost halted as the dull, creeping thuds of its master approached. Audible reports as to the status of other vessels, silenced. Checks from the engineering and weapons coordination teams dulled as Admiral Regent and Third Triumvir Carlyle Edrich Rausgeber approached. The Tregessar, much like many of the personally manufactured and designed vessels of Prefsbelt Command followed a sort of open space philosophy to the bridge. At the fore was of course the classical imperial design with crew pits and a rim of stations manned by semi-mobile ensigns. But as per Rausgebers instructions, the rear of the Prefsbelt-Class Super Star Destroyer was rotund. With a holographic communications and command table at the rear which the Triumvir enjoyed commanding from. Flanked on all circular sides by a staff of communications technicians and engineers ready to dispatch reports.

Now circling the table were the Tregessar’s nominal command staff. Vice Admiral Harris Cormon, a fellow First Order alum and Prefsbelt hardliner. Commodore Laila Cascoe, a Bastion based officer recruited from former Sith Imperial stock. And Stormtrooper Corps liaison officer, General Cassan Parcke, not Galidraani himself, but aligned to Erskine Barron and his vision. They all stood to attention as Rausgeber strode toward them. Greatcoat trailing behind him. The hideous hiss and wheeze of his respirator punctuating every step. The door guard team stood to attention as Rausgeber entered, “Triumvir on deck!” The left Prefsbelt Stossjäger’s barked.

“Hail, Rausgeber.” Cormon barked, clicking his heels together, before slamming a clenched fist to his chest, and then extending it out into the sky. Both Parcke and Cascoe followed the gesture. “My Lord,” Cormon bowed his head, “There have been several critical developments.” Rausgeber betrayed no emotion other than a brief bow of his own head, an order to continue, as his hands reached around his head to relieve himself of his mask. Cormon swallowed as the Admiral Regent moved to remove his mask. It was a muzzle, which tightened around his mouth, and nostrils. But wound around his cheeks, to the back where the clasp was. Hiding his otherwise embarrassing injuries. But also hindering the man’s ability to speak. He always would remove the apparatus, especially during engagements such as this

Sir, the blockade has been, well… been violated milord.” Cormon anxiously reported, voice quivering and betraying the man’s fear. “The alliance have managed to deploy isolated forces elements. Our TIE fighters have manage to harass them,” Cormon added, “But it appears they’ve managed to rendezvous with local resistance forces. Hostile anti air cover has proven too concerted to allow for us to disrupt their deployment. ” Cormon informed him, growing increasingly pale, “I regret to inform you sir, that The Conquest, it failed to intercept a communique sent from New Aldera. We are-“ Cormon raised his head and what he saw broke his concentration. Rausgeber’s face. Hideous and malformed. A ring of red around his mouth, a deep seated wound into his face. From the suction of the mask, creating a thing but deep red ring running beneath his nostrils all the way around to his chin.

We are unable sir to, manage to isolate this force, but we are moving to double our efforts, and regroup all commands within sector nine.” Cormon added, “Currently the enemy force is limited, however I suspect there are potentially more hostile troops ready to reinforce the enemy.” The Vice Admiral paused, eyeing Rausgeber who in returned starred with palpable derision, “Grand Moff Korvan’s force is-“

Rausgeber now free from his respirator glared at the man, his blackened and browned teeth barred in a wild snarl. “There will no need… for that…. Commander.” Rausgeber drawled, his voice a contemptuous, slow baritone, “The Alliance… They will attempt to break us…. If we concentrate ourselves. Formed too tightly... We are brittle. Now strategic flexibility…. Is our ally.” Rausgeber turned to Parcke, revealing perhaps the most egregious assault on the eyes yet. The gaping into his mouth. The large, cavernous blaster wound with its fetted flesh. Cybernetics had been installed to restore losses of bone. But had in fact done little more than cause the skin to grow red around his jaw. Irritated and angry. “Inform all commands…. They have a certain….. autonomy in counteracting these profligates. But to maintain my orders for major movements.”


Carlyle reached and took another brief hit from his mask. “General, pleasure ensure that our forces are…. Informed as to…. These developments”. He huskily wheezed, a mixture of acrid pus and blood dripping from his sickly green, gangrenous gums, some spilling from out of his mouth, “Ensure that the task force…. Attacking the…. Defences…. Work diligently…. I wish to be able to threaten their forces with bombardment... End this engagement as swiftly as possible.” He paused, “We have…. Prepared for this.” Carlyle warned, with a glare at Cormon and then at Cascoe. “This was always a potential eventuality.” His disgusting, slimy tongue, cracked in pus ran itself around his cracked lips, before he took a sharp hit from the respirator.

But…. This has complicated matters…. If the Alliance’s combat force is significant enough…” Carlyle pontificated to the assemblage of commanders. “Then the Alliance…. Must be shown the error of their ways….” Rausgeber drawled, “Commodore… Prepare the bombers of the Conquest and Warden…. Rhypalm packed rounds… Case Vader… is in effect. Targeting New Aldera.” There was a pause, and a murmur as all three officers looked at each other. "Specific concern must provided to.... Civil infrastructure. Power.... Water.... Food.... Shelter. Scourge it."

But sir,” Parcke was the first to speak, swallowing as he met Rausgebers bloodshot gaze, “We have forces preparing an attack in that sector. What you’re proposing sir-Razing the settlement… it….” Parcke paused trying to retain composure, “It jeopardises their mission. Will potentially sir, kill them.” Parcke then watched as Carlyle remained expressionless, unsure as to if the man understood as to the consequences of his orders, “Sir these are elite forces. I must protest, we-cannot just bomb our own men, it’s madness!” The other two, Cormon and Cascoe were emotionless, but their exchanged glance certainly pointed to agreement with their colleague.

Carlyle gave the General a callous eye roll, “Those troops….They are in the imperial army…. Are they not?” Carlyle chided, “They understood the risks, what was asked of them when they enlisted….Took their oaths. But this… This operation is…. Beyond them in both scope…. And reach.” He looked to all three officers and stifled a cough with a sharp fist to the chest, “The last act…. Of the First Galactic Empire At the zenith of its…. Political, military and economic strength…. Was the destruction of Alderaaan in what was the only successful use of the first Death Star…. At capacity.” Carlyle sneered at the trio, “What Grand Moff Tarkin failed to realise…. Is sedition is not rooted in one place…. But rather an idea. It can transform…. Evolve.” He gestured with an outstretched arm to the void, “As we have inherited the mantle of Empire….New Alderaan now encompasses a manifestation of that sedition and defiance…. Ergo our presence and assignment here rather than simple occupation.” Rausgeber continued, "The Tionese... They are not unlike the Alliance.... But they are an echo of the same... Same affliction."

Should we….. fail to destroy the enemy... Conventionally. Allow for this…. Republic to continue…. Allow ourselves to be…. Denied our right by this… Alliance.” Rausgeber continued, “We will once more have been thwarted by the…. Descendants of traitors like Bail and Leia Organa to stand against the Empire. Defy its will.” He paused and took a deep breathe, “I intend not to inherit these….Issues. Alderaaan New and Old, will burn for their insolence…. If we are successful or not.” He then took a step toward the three officers, “Today….no matter what the consequences, I intend to deal with Alderaan once and for all.” He stepped forth again, leering like some craven beast, “Am I understood?”

A sheepish silence came over the officers before Cormon gave a nod, “Of course sir.” He then turned to the Commodore and General, “It-it will be done sir.” He looked to the Commodore, “Reach out to the Conquest, tell them to start loading Rhypalm ballistics, full caustic rounds.” Rausgeber allowed for a small smile as they dispersed. Although such a gesture could equally be considered a scowl with how sickly he was. Good. But that was not all the necessary preparation.

Leaning in, the Admiral Regent tuned the battle display. It appeared the Alliance and adjacent co-belligerents were in system already. While he had calculated this as a potential eventuality, it nevertheless caused the Admiral Regent considerable discontent. With the forces arrayed against them, Rausgeber considered it now the imperative to delay the Alliance forces. But with what? Well, why not a little notice.

Turning on the balls of heels to the comms team, Rausgeber clicked his heels. The response was immediate from the grey boiler suited technicians, who turned to attend to him. “Prepare a transmission.” Rausgeber commanded, “All frequencies.” He wheezed. The technical officers went to work; quickly priming the broadcast. Carlyle lifted his respirator to his oozing maw and took repeated hits of the soothing cocktail of chemicals. As soon as the little light flickered to green on the projector, Carlyle began.

Forces of the Galactic Alliance and their…. Friends,” Rausgebers grisly visage was now for all to see. Attired in a long, black grey coat over his nominally white tunic, the man stood to attention, fairly neatly parted and otherwise impeccable apart from the scarring. “Your interjection into the affairs of the Empire is….Confusing.... And naive.” He continued, his voice a slow, creeping wheeze, “In consideration of the facts of this case.”

Ambassador Alvu Kitching was a friend and staunch ally of the empire and diplomacy…An agent of civility, discourse and friendship.... The Tionese and their conduct?” He raised a brow, “Clearly display them as enemies of civilisation and the norms of diplomatic engagement.” He allowed another sneer, “Such an act by these…..savages must be met with equally drastic diplomatic action… ergo our operation here.” He then raised a wagging finger, almost as if he himself were a disappointed parental figure.

Violation of our right to avenge a member of our regime will not be tolerated…” he took in a sharp, wheezing breathe as he stifled another cough. “The Tionese have declared war on the Empire… and to aid them in this fruitless venture resets our… relationship.” He paused and leaned into the recorder, giving all watching a more personal view of the scarring, “Any continued escalation or deployment of material and personnel will be countered….. with lethal force.”

As commanding officer… and most senior government member present, unless you wish for me to authorise a ‘no quarter’ order…. you will demobilise and leave.” Rausgeber leaned back out and looked right in the lens, “You have fifteen minutes to consider my largesse…. Any movement counter... Or demands which violate my mandate over this system will be rebutted with turbolaser fire.”

Good day.”
 

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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
NORUPO
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Thick clouds of smoke and soot eclipsed the sun over New Aldera. Glimpses of its rays illuminated the infamous white armors of the 501st Legion as the iron grip of the Empire suffocated the light. Blaster fire erupted continuously from the stormtroopers' barrels as they carved a way through the city without remorse.

And Saul would have it no other way.

Resistance was to be punished with no compromise.

Whether COMPNOR had assassinated one of their own to bring the Imperial hammer over the Tion Cluster or not, it mattered little. The so-called Republic had lit fires of sedition among rebels otherwise stiffened by dread; fires of chaos, that if left unchecked, could very well torch the foundations of security and order; fires stoked by those hypocrites from the Core.

It could not be allowed.

It must not be allowed.

Even a blind man could see that the clash between the Iron Sun and the Starbird was inevitable. Ever since the Imperials had broken their chains from the Sith, they had known that the seat of the galaxy belonged to none other but themselves. It was only their rightful claim. A claim built on the desire to bring order to a galaxy plagued by chaos.

Once comrades along the millions of miles of trenches against the fallen empire of Sith, now enemies clashing over galactic dominance.

The general pulled his blade from the dismembered guts of an Alliance Marine and raised high up in the air, blood dripping from its edge.

"IMPERIALS!!" Saul's voice boomed through the tumult of war. "THERE IS NO DEATH MORE WORTHY OF MAN THAN A GLORIOUS DEATH ON THE BATTLEFIELD. THERE IS NO MERIT HIGHER THAN THIS — TO LAY DOWN YOUR LIFE FOR THE GOOD OF THE EMPIRE!!"​
ALLIES: The Empire
ENEMIES: The Galactic Alliance | The Tion Republic | Osarla Ridor Osarla Ridor
 
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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 | Ignacious Korvan Ignacious Korvan
Enemies: GA | Liedran Kathause Liedran Kathause

S P A C E R A C E
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One hundred uniformed men and women lined the ship’s barracks.

The group wore the standard undersuit of Imperial stormtroopers, an unremarkable black skintight suit with a gray Imperial seal blazed on the right shoulder. At first glance, the group of one hundred seemed no different than any other stormtrooper stationed on an Imperial warship.

However, that illusion was dispelled the moment they reached for their armor.

Stored in closets repurposed from holding speeder bikes were one hundred massive suits of durasteel, so immense that they had to be entered rather than picked up and put on. In each arm was a wrist-mounted blaster cannon powerful enough to break even the thickest of personal armor. A laser cutter on the right arm could slowly but surely slice through heavily reinforced blast doors, exterior plating of vessels as large as cruisers, and the weak spots of even larger warships. On the back of the armor, a large armored jetpack gave a significant boost to mobility. The armor itself was several times thicker than regular stormtrooper armor, and its thick plastoid-titanium alloy plates were virtually immune to small-arms fire.

This was New Imperial Space Armor, and the hundred soldiers standing before it were the first batch of Imperial spacetroopers in eight hundred years.

The pressure on the one hundred troopers was immense. They were chosen by Lieutenant Colonel FN-999 himself, with the permission of Imperial High Command, for their excellent valor and adaptability. They were quite literally stepping in the shoes of some of the most legendary stormtroopers in galactic history, and already they were minor celebrities within the Stormtrooper Corps. If the 1st Spacetrooper Company were to fail a mission and be destroyed by their enemy, the blow to morale would be as great as if an entire legion had been defeated.

At the same time, the troopers were reassured by their many achievements. For months, the 1st Space had trained in their armor, becoming as familiar with it as with their standard stormtrooper armor. At first, the immense weight and power of the Space Armor suits had exhausted and demoralized the company, but over time they became more familiar with the capabilities and limits of their suits and even began to enjoy wearing them.

The first real test for the spacetroopers had come on Nirauan, where a Chiss battlecruiser threatened the 908th Stormtrooper Legion with an orbital bombardment. Despite facing the massive warship alone, they had succeeded in disabling its main weapons without losing a single trooper, saving the lives of thousands of stormtroopers and sealing the fate of the overwhelmed Chiss traitors.

Now, the situation was different. Rather than a lone warship, the 1st Space faced an entire Alliance fleet. The spacetroopers would have to trust the Imperial blockade to distract the Alliance’s screening vessels and starfighters, both of which could pose a serious threat to the spacetroopers if caught in the open.

In a sense, it was the first true space battle of the 1st Space.

OOC: This is my NPC spacetrooper post. Army post with FN-999 himself coming soon.
 
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1st 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 Tyrell Lockhart Tyrell Lockhart

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Shorurra Groznik Bayaz Bayaz Liedran Kathause Liedran Kathause
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TRIBULATIONS OF THE WILDCATS: CLASH OF CIVILISATIONS - PART ONE
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SOUTH-WESTERN BATTLEFRONT, NEW ALDERA,
NEW ALDERAAN, TION CLUSTER (EARLY 877 ABY)


I'm sorry, Cotan....

Coruscant still stands, but civilisation has fallen.
A senate's chaos chose to slight an Empire - an' one time too many.

Extensive though the engagements had been over the previous weeks of deployment, the Kellas was quite content with the Free-State's ability to hold their oblique-order positions, and with a strong left flank to keep the Imperial presence as intimidating for the opposing high-command, Lord Aron had been busy gathering intel on the active enemy generals. Picking apart anything relevant for a means to discern the mindsets and temperaments of the GADF's otherwise-unknown commandery, Gowrie was never one for going in half-cocked for any of his duties, and in the perpetuation of his restlessness and his work-ethic alike, the Tuath had been compiling as much as possible with the intent of making it all useful somehow.

<"Gowrie to Wildcat Five! I want you keepin' yer wits about ye this time, something's telling me it's going to get quite messy the-day.... The messy we were talking about earlier, the sorta messy that makes the recent scrap on Nirauan look like a mild clutter. Either way, you can trust in auld Carwood for whichever way the wind ends up blowing.">

<"Copy that, Milord! Mindset I'm going for, simple as it might seem,"No pointless heroics, no silly dramatics.", could be the best course of action under the circumstances.... In any case, rest assured I'll report in with a Sit-Rep soon. Good luck out there. Wildcat Five out!">

Mulgrew was put through his data-gathering and interrogating paces throughout this process, but fortunately for the young Woad, Gowrie had been wise enough to bring a legend into the Wildcats' fold, and Lord Carwood McGechin was more than up to the task of helping the young prospect find his potential. It had only been a couple months since the Lord-Major's transfer between contingents, but the highest-ranking knight from IMPAF-Command was already making excellent progress with the Woad-born prospect by then, teaching the tricks of the trade in ways that seemed to stick with Mulgrew with lasting finality, and the lessons learned before that day would surely keep the lad as far from harm as possible.

First for his clan, then - for Blue Heart Brigade, the IMPAF-Knights.... An' now, for Wildcat Division.

An' it was the dumbest of fortunes that poached 'im for the Wildcats to begin with.

But it wasn't just the Wildcats holding the line at that point in time, nor had they been in the days and weeks leading up to that day, as Tal had ordered full deployments from both Dunwall and Bramber for the outing, and specifically to bolster and increase the mobility of the armoured Imperial left flank. Making matters even more strategically appealing for Free-State command was the arrival of the contingent from the 908th Legion, there to provide more activity on the far right flank of the south-western front from an auxiliary framework, and providing a much-needed link between the Galidraani and the Imperial vanguard, active communication and static-line linkages of which all involved had understood to be vital at the time. Whatever was about to transpire, no matter how heavy the fighting would become, their established links with the 501st and the 313th in the vanguard would be expected to hold out long after their extensive run of skirmishing hostilities broke out into something wilder.

The GADF were expected to deploy with their heaviest-hitting elements also, but with a similarly-heavy presence of the Galactic Core's soldiering elite bolstering their own line in turn; and with both opposing static-lines receiving much in the way of confirmation of this already, and in multiple noteworthy skirmishes over the course of the previous week in particular, the stage was well and truly set for a conventional warfront like no other. Bringing the Galidraani to an insightful realisation within the first few days of their preemptive deployment to the Tion Cluster, enlightening the Free-State contingent to the fact there obviously had been something of a steadfast warfighting presence within the GA since House Treicolt's efforts in the Third Imperial Civil War, and sobering though the thought would get over the following days and weeks, it quickly stood to reason that there had been strong Anti-Mawite efforts from the GADF in their own conventional theatres of war since.

Not only on Csilla, Tython and Empress Teta, but in battles untold to the likes of the Empire, though this would be an obvious case in consideration of the long-winded breakdown in diplomacy between both factions since the Sack of Coruscant. It was to the great fortune of the Galactic Alliance that the Imperials in the senate building had chosen to fight back against the odds, offering help in abundance to the GADF elements within the city at the time, but those days had long since passed, and much had changed for both factions since.

[[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!
]]

After forwarding the same message to all the relevant officers, Lord Aron stepped out from within the Free-State's command centre, looking beyond the HASCO and Duracrete walls to the city beyond for a moment as he reached into his inner coat-pocket for his cigarras, visualising the madness that was just minutes away from unfolding on all fronts. This level of calm was exactly what one with all the firepower needed to embody that day, and though every last playing-piece on the New Aldera battlefront braced in taut poise for an all-out assault on the senses, Gowrie knew he was better served finding the rhythm in the ebb and flow of the battle as it intensified, fully aware that his purpose was in finding the right moments to unleash the right sorts of artillery-barrages - a much needed pressuring solution for the threats that lurked in every corner.

Though New Aldera's defenders were outnumbered by the Empire's ground forces, the fact the whole city was standing with them left IMPAF at a severe disadvantage in comparison, though the Kellas (as far as he had progressed since Ziost) understood that an Imperial victory would surely break the will of every civilian-led militia within the city, as was the Empire's intent for the Tion Cluster from the offset. However, some intel had shown up a couple days before, such that had the Tuath distracted away from his main duties on multiple occasions; first, the fighting prowess of the officer in question presented untold risks if single-combat was unavoidable, but this was little and less in comparison to the diplomatic risks that were apparent after discovery of their dual-citizenship.

Negotiations were at least to be attempted with sincerity, but only on account of one-half of their noted allegiances, with the better half being of Ashlan affiliation proving to be the enemy general's salvation thus far, though Lord Aron still doubting his choice to pursue this matter lawfully at the time. Lighting his cigarra, Gowrie smoked in silence and looked out to the city backdrop once more, enjoying the calm before the storm as he always had, but only in the attempt to keep his mind off the personal task at hand.

'What a fething chit-show, man.'

<"Haw, Wookie! I know you can hear me, so jus' listen - thirty minutes, meet me for parley by the broken Fountain Lights. You have a choice or two to make, so I'll be there to present you with a few specific options.... We will meet each other alone, attempted exceptions will be shot. Wildcat One out!">
 
Traumatized Carrier-Loving Mess
(AP: Armor Plating, SH: Shielding, SF: Starfighter Squadrons)

[Approaching New Aldera - Objective II]
[ANV Lightmaker - CIC]
[Tag List: Ignacious Korvan Ignacious Korvan , FN-999, Bané Zirbils Bané Zirbils , Liram Angellus Liram Angellus , Caarlyle Rausgeber Caarlyle Rausgeber , and.. probably other folks, sorry]

Across the ranks of the Alliance Navy, its fresh and conditioned officers alike were caught in a renewed spirit of optimism and hope. Key battles over Empress Teta, and other worlds once lost to the darkness of the Maw, bolstered them with the notion that the Alliance could fight back; if they continued to push forward into the darkness, the galaxy could soon see an end to the horrors of the Second Great Hyperspace War. But, it seemed, in that time they’d forgotten about the Empire and the crumbling wall of treaties that separated the Imperials from the rest of the galaxy.

Sooner or later, these optimistic officers were dragged into another confrontation with the Alliance’s former allies. Liedran and the rest of the 74th were hustled out of spacedock and to the Tion Cluster almost as soon as repair crews had finished welding the flotilla back together, leaving a matter of hours to be allocated to double-checking their work. Commander Burke down in Engineering had been, and was still, livid. She could still hear his laments for his “precious machines” shooting up through the battered and patched-up ventilation shafts snaking through the Lightmaker. On a better day, the Admiral may have laughed or joked, or… But it wasn’t that day.

If years of being in the center of conflict were somehow not enough, the metallic hand extending from the sleeve of her uniform was surely a model of what could happen, should the engagement over New Alderaan be ripped from the Alliance’s control. She couldn't let there be a repeat of last time... She couldn't...


“Exiting hyperspace– 20 minutes now. Flotilla-wide air wing will be ready for launch in 10, ma’am.”

Oh yes, Liedran’s metal fingers coiled into the palm of her prosthetic, the moment of reckoning approaches. The space between her eyelids was closed within a second, wound tight as the sounds of shuffling in the CIC momentarily crescendoed, then quieted just as quickly. The ship’s captain took note of the admiral’s worsening demeanor; in seconds, D’Nea had taken on the burden of making a set of flotilla-wide orders. “Acknowledged, helm. Alright, put up a Yellow Alert. Standard defensive posture when all squadrons have launched. Make sure the Auroras are ready for a melee; await further instructions.”

The comms chief was professional enough to look to the Admiral for her confirmation. Liedran produced a quick “proceed,” and a moment later heard D’Nea’s sigh of relief as the orders began to be relayed through comms.

Twenty minutes passed in what felt like twenty hours and the Lightmaker exited hyperspace with a sharp lurch. Apparently her inertial dampeners were still on the fritz– not that much could be done at the moment.

Those earlier twenty minutes of relative silence were quickly replaced by a wave of motion and sound; officers across the CIC picked up circular transceivers, and blurted commands through the integrated microphones, ushering gun crews and pilots into position for the coming battle. Klaxons blared as a thick swath of gray began to expand on the viewscreen. As the newly emerged Alliance fleet lay in a course to engage, the indistinguishable patch became something more recognizable– a horde of Imperial vessels, star destroyers and escorts alike postured around a growing blue dot on the screen.

For the first time in what seemed like ages, Liedran spoke, ordering, “Wide salvo in three, two, one-”

Where the engagement over Kuat had begun with a disorganized cacophony of motion, this battle began with a single, unified salvo as gun turrets across the 74th Flotilla and its surrounding fleet lit up in blinding eruptions of light.

The wave barreled through the shrinking battlespace between the fleets of former allies.

While the greenest of her officers braced themselves for the battle over New Aldera, Liedran only stared coldly.

This was becoming an all-too-familiar occurrence, anyway.
 
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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

"Grenades!" His voice barked over the din of battle, hand lashing out, air rippling around his palm as a telekinetic force surged out intercepting the cluster of impending death, detonating them at the halfway mark, raining down fire and smoke, granting the natives behind him a brief cover from the continuing onslaught of the Imperial Forces currently pouring into the foyer.

He was fairly certain the building he was standing in used to be a rather nice hotel, one that had hastily been repurposed into a command centre to better coordinate the local forces in this sector. A headquarters to which he had been lending a great deal of his own precognitive and divinatory abilities to. All to better coordinate a resistance against one of the Superpowers of this Galaxy.

It saddened him to see things come to this. There were many paths the future could have taken. Some may call him naive for thinking The Empire and the Galactic Alliance could have a ruly lasting peace. But he had seen glimpses of potential futures where such dreams had become reality. Where old alliances held strong, where bonds remained unbroken.

But sadly, this was not what came to pass. The present was mired in conflict and deceit. An alleged assasssination that simply stank of a False Flag operation was enough for the Imperial forces to besiege this world.

And such an act was the last straw for the Alliance. Troopers were mobilised, the fleets arrived in orbit. Jedi and GADF alike descended to the streets below to render aid.

As it stood, the war could not be won. Not with the ongoing conflict with the Maw, not when this world was so far away from the borders of the Alliance. But they could save the people, they could rescue those who would suffer most under the joke of Imperial rule. And they could make the Iron Titan bleed, they could sap its strength through a thousand different cuts. The Alliance could bear its fangs here as a warning to the Iron Legion that if they wanted to declare open war, they were going to have a hell of a fight for it.

Aaran himself would ensure that every building, every mile, every cobblestone and every room the Imperials claimed would be paid for dearly. A reminder to those that once fought to throw off the chains of oppression themselves of how hard people would fight to retain their own freedom. Perhaps it would be enough for them to realise that with these actions, The Empire was slowly becoming a reflection of the Tyrants it once fought against.

"Right flank!" He called, directing the resistance fighters who trusted their lives to him to open fire through the smoke, blaster bolts piercing through the smoke to gun down the squad who were currently attempting to set up a turret placement near a shattered window. With a grunt, the Jedi's hand lashed out again, dragging the men from cover where they were rendered vulnerable to the guns of the resistance members.

All while he stood in the forefront. Lightsaber blazing in his freehand whirling around him in a blinding wall of golden light, daring any of the Stormtroopers to shoot him over those around. His presence alone as a Jedi noting him as a high priority target.

Ready to wait here and hold the line for as long as it took for the evacuation to be complete. For the wounded and non-combatants to flee to safer ground.

"Come then! Men of the Empire!" He bellowed forth. "To you who broke the chains of the Sith! Come and try to collar others!" His saber pointed outwards, a challenge to any who would answer.

"I give you one chance to leave. Only death waits for you here. No glory, no victory! Only the fate of all Tyrants!"

Boastful and overly dramatic? Certainly, but that was the point. Draw as much attention to himself. Let their indignation turn their guns on him and away from more vulnerable targets that lay behind him.
 
That light at the end of the tunnel leads to Hell


GAME ON YAKHEAD!
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SHIP NAME: GUARDANO
SHIP CLASS: COMMANDSHIP
FLAG OFFICER: LIRAM ANGELLUS
SHIP CAPTAIN: GYM HALPERN
COMMAND STAFF
EQUIPPED: 25x L4Vele Series Deployable Defense turrets. per ship
CAPTAIN'S LAUNCH: "Amenadiel"

FIGHTER COMPLIMENT: 181st Tactical Starfighter Wing "Nightwing Squadron"
CALLSIGNS: Admiral Angellus "Maverick" is and will always be "Angel 1", Captain Roger Powell "Starlight" is "Angel 2" Captain Scoht Powell "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.

LONG-RANGE INTERCEPTION (4 Squadrons)
  1. Nightwing 2-5 Super Archangel class Multi-Role Fighter/Interceptor
MULTIPURPOSE SUPERIORITY FIGHTER (12 Squadrons)
  1. Nightwing 6-9 Ashera Class Fighter
STEALTH/RECON FIGHTER (5 Squadrons)
  1. Nightwing 10-13 Azazael class Stealth fighter
SHIP NAME: CELESTIAL CITY
SHIP CLASS: SUPER CARRIER
FLAG OFFICER: LIRAM ANGELLUS
SHIP CAPTAIN: ZEV TANTOR
COMMAND STAFF
EQUIPPED: 25x L4Vele Series Deployable Defense turrets. per ship
CAPTAIN'S LAUNCH: "Amenadiel"

FIGHTER COMPLIMENT: 103rd Tactical Starfighter Wing "Angel of Death Squadron"
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.

LONG-RANGE INTERCEPTION (10 Squadrons)
  1. Angel 2-11 Archangel class Fighter/Interceptor
MULTIPURPOSE SUPERIORITY FIGHTER (12 Squadrons)
  1. Angel 12-17 NC-1000 X-Wing
  2. Angel 18-23 Ashera Class Fighter
STEALTH/RECON FIGHTER (5 Squadrons)
  1. Angel 24-28 Azazael class Stealth fighter
DEFENSIVE FIGHTER SCREEN (3 Squadrons)
  1. Angel 29-31 Starfury class Starfighter
BOMBERS W ESCORT (10 Squadrons)
  1. Angel 32-36 Demon Class Bomber
  2. Angel 37-41 Sovereignty Class Heavy/Assault Fighter
SUPPORT/TRANSPORTS (10 Squadrons)
  1. Angel 42-45 Cherub Gunship
  2. Angel 46-51 Cherub Transport
SHIP NAME: SILVER CITY
SHIP CLASS:
HEAVY CARRIER
SHIP CAPTAIN: ROGER POWELL
COMMAND STAFF
Amenediel Shuttle Mk II

FIGHTER COMPLIMENT: "VOODOO 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.

LONG-RANGE INTERCEPTION (8 Squadrons)
  1. Voodoo 2-9 Archangel class Fighter/Interceptor
MULTIPURPOSE SUPERIORITY FIGHTER (10 Squadrons)
  1. Voodoo 10-14 NC-1000 X-Wing
  2. Voodoo 15-19 Ashera Class Fighter
STEALTH/RECON FIGHTER (5 Squadrons)
  1. Voodoo 20-24 Azazael class Stealth fighter
BOMBERS W ESCORT (5 Squadrons)
  1. Voodoo 25-29 Demon Class Bomber
DEFENSIVE FIGHTER SCREEN (3 Squadrons)
  1. Voodoo 30-32 Starfury class Starfighter
SUPPORT/TRANSPORTS (5 Squadrons)
  1. Angel 30-31 Cherub Gunship
  2. Angel 32-34 Cherub Transport
SHIP NAME: ETHEREAL
SHIP CLASS:
CARRIER
SHIP CAPTAIN: SCOTT 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
SECTOR: Commenor, then New Alderaan
ORDERS: Break the Blockade
WINGMATES: @Ewan ‘Raider” Isaacs. @
Liedran Kathause, @Shar Sieu, @Andien Gale, @Ari Naldax, @Maple Harte
TARGETS: @Caarlyle Rausgeber
TARGETS OF OPPORTUNITY: @Albrecht F. Herlock | @Ignacious Korvan | @ Velran Kilran

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GUARDANO - COMMENOR ORBIT
FLAG OPERATIONS OFFICE
0230 HOURS
7 DAYS AGO


Admiral Angellus was going through AARs of several different operations that were going on under his “watch.” No, he was not normally up this late going through these things but he was talking to a Jedi at the moment and while they do not necessarily take precedence, this one is family, and a business partner on the side. He also contacted Liram on “something important”, something the big man never does.

I have people to answer to, you know.

You also have a bloodline that goes back to the Original Alderaan.

“New Alderaan” , “Original Alderaan”, “Alderaan Classic”, sound like soda flavors.

I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I’m just saying that “New Alderaan” was started by refugees from when the planet was destroyed. Yeah, it’s been terraformed, but no less meaningful

Dude, for a Jedi Master… your guilt trips suck…

You know that I’m right.

They still suck. So what is going on?

I don’t know.

Man! I think the day you give me a straight answer, I’ll die of a heart attack.

Vanagor just laughed.

I don’t know. All I know is what I saw. New Alderaan in flames and Imperial ships in the area.

I thought you Jedi were supposed to not pay attention to “visions of the future.”

Yeah, we’re not… but that doesn’t mean you have to ignore it. Right?

Really? Do your dirty work?

If you don’t want to go, don’t go. If you want to… amass over Saleucami. Others can speculate but that is all they can do.

GUARDANO - SALEUCAMI ORBIT
FLAG OPERATIONS OFFICE
0900 HOURS
YESTERDAY


“Admiral- We are entering Saleucami orbit.”

Thank you. Let me know when the rest of the fleet arrives. All battlegroups.


Going last minute assignments, plans and drills about ”The Stellar”

...
 
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FN-999

Guest
F


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Unit: 908th Legion, 15th Regiment
Allies: Empire | DECEASED Aron Gowrie DECEASED Aron Gowrie
Enemies: GA | Shorurra Groznik | Bayaz Bayaz


Tactical map coming once Imperial and Alliance troop positions are confirmed!
N I N E S
The 908th Legion found itself approaching a jungle of steel once more.
After a massive landing effort and a slow march through the planet's settlements, the massed Imperial forces had arrived at the outskirts of New Aldera, the planet's capital. Heavily defended by Alliance and Tionese forces, New Aldera was approached with caution. Even now, the 15th found itself on the outskirts of the city, occupying a series of hills overlooking the urban sprawl and providing key high ground for the regiment.

In the center of the regiment, a repulsorlift command center hovered in place, relaying and receiving local orders. Out of the repulsorlift emerged two stormtroopers, both senior officers of the regiment.


"Are your battalions in order?" asked FN-999.

"Indeed they are." replied Colonel Silvertongue. "They are in sublime condition and arrayed as you previously commanded."

"Good." responded FN-999. "It's only a matter of time before a siege begins. We must play our part."


"A siege?" asked Silvertongue. "With our forces? Surely not. You've seen the reports from the scouts. Is our slight numerical advantage really enough to overcome a fortified city, Jedi generals, and popular resistance? Surely the Galdranni have some diplomatic scheme in mind to secure New Aldera without a costly investiture of the city."

"Nonsense." replied FN-999. "You've fought with the Wildcats as much as I have. They truly fit their name. Surely, you'd understand that they woul-"


[[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!
]]

"To think that the Wildcats would actually hold back." muttered FN-999 in response to the transmission. "Ave Rurik."

"Did you just get a transmission?" asked Silvertongue promptly.


"Yes." replied FN-999. "Major General Gowrie ordered us to dig in and let the defenders make the first move, and is going to speak with the Alliance commander."

"See, maybe you're being a bit judgamental." reprimanded Silvertongue. "I know you like to think of the Galdranni as reckless berserkers, but there's a good reason that Lord Barran holds the Imperial regency."


"If you say so." replied FN-999. "However, I'm still hiding my liquor when the Barrans are around."
 

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Equipment: Blackwolf (Launchers 1&2 loaded with Advanced Proton Torpedoes, Ventral Launcher loaded with Intruder Missiles)
Allies: GA, Liedran Kathause Liedran Kathause , R9-K4 "Keeper"
Enemies: Empire Velran Kilran Velran Kilran Caarlyle Rausgeber Caarlyle Rausgeber
Tags:
Commanding: 1x Squadron of 8 T-65XN "Wolf-X" fighters , 1x Flight of 4 BTL-S800 K-wings (loaded with Plasma Torpedoes)

"Ready, Keeper? I want those X-foils open as soon as we drop out of hyperspace" The astromech beeped in its affirmative as they neared their objective. Ari began shifting her systems over to their combat posture as the hyperspace swirl turned into white streaks and then those white streaks slowed down and stopped as the vast starscape of space. Immediately following was the entire X-Wing lurching as the wings split open and the X-foils locked into their "attack" position. Air watched on her tactical display as the rest of her squadron, and the flight of K-wings they'd been escorting, jumped in a few kilometers away.

This wasn't how Ari envisioned her homecoming - she'd expected to come back on some goodwill tour with the GADF or to sort out some level of army. Now, the planet and population that had endured so much - from the destruction of the original Alderaan and the refugees first steps, to the battles and massacres during the Hunt for Zsinj, to the more modern purges and desolation caused by the hordes of the Bryn'adul. Ari had hoped New Alderaan could finally see enough peacetime to rebuild, and allow the population to come back and restore life on the Planet. Yet, as always, some wanton military power had decided the peace of her homeworld was an impediment to their playing God over the galaxy. Alderaan's Ghosts, she was tired of entire worlds being played around with like pawns in some massive game.

Moving her throttle to as fast as she could go without compromising the X-wing's stealth systems, she fired an encrypted tight-beam over to her own squadron, this far out no one should be able to pick up such a directed communication, "Rendezvous at Point Mark 2-4. K-Wings, maintain 20 km separation from enemy forces until you receive further orders." Cutting off the communication and making sure her active sensors were dead, Ari rolled her fighter and began her descent into the plane of battle. ready to take on whoever stood in the way of protecting her homeworld.
 
DEAD! BUT STILL A GENIUS!!!!!!!
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"Ladies and gentlemen this is your Fleet Admiral speaking we are coming out hyperspace and are about to approach New Alderaan. Please keep your hands and feet away from the isle and fasten your seatbelts! It's going to be one bumpy ride!"

Velran spun around in his Admiral's chair gleefully giggling at the prospect of going into battle. This was Velran's first Space Engagement in over a year, the higher ups have sent Velran to patrol the boarders of Imperial space specifically next to planet Lianna. A waste of his talents and an attempt to get Velran away from his goal: Become a Grand Admiral of the Imperial Navy. The higher ups were always envious of Velran's tactical genius and why won't they be jealous. During the battle over Ziost during the Sith Civil War, Velran outnumbered and out gunned managed to take down an entire Sith Fleet with the Imperial equivalent to sticks and rocks. It was one of the few victories in that dreaded battle.

When the Imperials decided to stay out of the recent conflict, Velran spent most of his time coming up with ingenious battle strategies slowly becoming pissed off of not being chosen to fight in the imperials conquests of planets until now. The Imperials decided to join the fray with the already stretched thin Alliance. Velran had to admit that it was brilliant plan, striking your foe when they're distracted but was it the right time to do so? Especially when the Empire doesn't even have an Emperor to rally behind? Oh well, it's time to start the party.

"We're entering New Alderaanian space!" Private Edward: Some intellectually deficient human but loyal man said. "Admiral Rausgeber is already engaged Alliance forces."

"Starting the party without me eh buddy boy?" Velran said getting up from his chair. "What's the Alliance fleet look like?"

"Tracking!" Another person: Corporal Galloway: A human female looked at her computer. "A mixture of Star Corvettes and Freighters!"

"Classic formation then," Velran said pacing around.

"Sir!" Edward said. "The enemy has launched a barrage of gun turrets to Admiral Rausgeber fleet!"

"Well that's what you get for starting too early." Velran said smiling. "Let me save his sorry hide! I want Donnagers to peer right and flank them from the side! I want the rest of the Star Destroyers to absorb the blasts and counter with turbolasers while the Frigates pull in and fire their hypervelocity cannons. In the meantime, I want the Onagers to ready to remain at a distance and prepare their anti-capital ship cannons!"

"Sir!" Galloway said. "We got Alliance fighters emerging from Hyperspace!"

"Trying to pull the ole oakey dok on me eh?" Velran chuckled. "I want 4 Squadrons of Interceptors, do not let them reach Onager II-class Star Destroyers! I bet money that'll be their first targets!"

As the array of orders were being given, Velran felt glee filling his body. This is where the fun begins that's for sure! "Oh and Edward!"

"Yes sir!"

"Play my music."

"Right away."


The music began to play while Velran began to dance to the tune as if he was in a concert. It's good to be back.

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Liedran Kathause Liedran Kathause , Caarlyle Rausgeber Caarlyle Rausgeber , Bané Zirbils Bané Zirbils , Liram Angellus Liram Angellus , Ignacious Korvan Ignacious Korvan

 
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NEW ALDERAAN, NEW ALDERA:-
Korvan Toldreyn Korvan Toldreyn

In his narrowed eyes reflected the crimson tibanna burned into bolts, soldiers of either cause continued to trade hails of fire in the dense and fractured streets of New Aldera. It continued on for weeks now and the once stark white plastoid of the Imperial stormtroopers had become blackened and bruised from blaster fire and a smattering of debris that fell over them with each earth-shattering disruption. It was difficult to stomach in the beginning, Rakaan first noted, the idea of battling not the Sith but the Jedi and the soldiers of the Galactic Alliance. At first, that was. Whatever sorrowful feelings the Imperial Knight had felt towards an engagement with his former friends dulled with time, and each act that came with it.

He traversed the defensive line in a short-lived moment of nothingness. Sounds of warfare and creaking spires set blaze had become distant. Idle chatter he paid no mind to filled his years as booted feet carried him across the cracked streets. An intrusive commotion sounded off in his head, and had for hours. It burdened him, distracted him, all at the cost of another push needed for success. His brow furrowed in an effort to cast it aside, all to no avail.

"Sir," a stormtrooper bearing an orange pauldron called on his approach, "Our sectors are clear and the men are awaiting orders."

Good, I-" It was there, again. Louder now, as if it screamed, wailed. Judged. Some foul echo in the Force, like an awful stench one could never be rid of. Bemusement settled over his features, and a similar fashion was bound to be beneath the helmet of the stormtrooper that walked beside him mere moments before. His eyes aimed over his shoulder, several stories above their line.

"Sir, you were-"

"Hold here." He cut him off, and darted off in the direction of that odd and familiar presence.

 

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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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ANTIPHONA

A chance of peaceful resolution was given, even if they were tense and passively hostile. Only for the scum to lash out with a sucker punch; they threw the stone and hid their hand like cowards. Much arrogance and vanity, yet they cried foul for the repercussions they would suffer.

Democracy is and was a lie.

He knew better when he once served as a Jedi to institutions championing democracy and freedom. Only to realize it was a system to serve few and discard the many. A lie in disguise; false promises which created delusions; a cancer to suffer the masses.

His free hand came to ensnarl the throat of a resistance fighter near the blind Jedi enough to let him gasp for air and let his peers to feel horror at the sight of their suspended comrade. Finally the grip on the man’s throat crushed his windpipe right after Simon walked through the smoke, eyeing at the Jedi and his fellow soldiers. The body fell like a lifeless doll, no hint of remorse from the Imperial Knight. He had chosen his fate which was be unforgiving.

“Peacekeepers, not soldiers hmm?” mocking Aaran as that was a phrase the Jedi pretentiously preached, blinded by their hypocrisy and double standards. “We offered an olive branch only to be blindsided by our generosity. You simply fight for the higher hierarchy of the Alliance instead of serving the masses whom bear the weight of its elite. Nothing has changed the Jedi Order, I was only fortunate to see through its illusions.” The Jedi always close to the politicians and bureaucrats, always at the service to corrupt individuals.

The Imperial Knight walked past the group of exposed Stormtroopers, daring against the Jedi and his lackeys. “Victory will be ours, and death will collect you all.” A sudden force repulse emitted towards Aaran and the rebels, then approaching calmly the Jedi.
 
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Mylo Thorne

Guest
M


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Eclipse The Stars

Location: Coming out of hyperspace, Space Over Tion, Tion, Outer Rim
Objective: Break the Imperial Blockade
Equipment: X-Wing Starfighter
Callsign: Revenant Six

ALLIES:
GALACTIC ALLIANCE AND OTHERS:
Bané Zirbils Bané Zirbils | Liram Angellus Liram Angellus | Liedran Kathause Liedran Kathause | Andien Gale Andien Gale

REVENANT SQUADRON:
FOUR - Shar Sieu Shar Sieu FIVE - Kaul "Joker" Emos Kaul "Joker" Emos
ENEMIES:
Caarlyle Rausgeber Caarlyle Rausgeber | Ignacious Korvan Ignacious Korvan | Velran Kilran Velran Kilran | OPEN

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The barrage of realspace tousled a little with his senses as he exited the dimension of hyperspace. Making himself comfortable in the upgraded padding of the seats, he peered out into the abyss, cluttered with the stalwart blockade of Imperial battleships. Numerous wedge-shaped star destroyers, the indefatigable symbol of Imperial might, packed to the brim with weapons of unfathomable destruction. Today they were going to challenge that might in a battle not only of lasers, but of values. Former allies turned enemies. It almost seemed completely inevitable.

Touching up the throttle a little bit, he weaved between Alliance ships along with the others, emerging at the forefront of the battlefield. Mylo switched the com to squadron frequency, and spoke crisp and clear into it. <"Revenant Six, standing by. You copy Kaul?"> He asked his wingman through the com as the battle adopted an explosive beginning. He watched turbolaser fire leave the familiar Hydian-class that was led by a familiar figure. Banking starboard, he immediately changed position, heading to port and streaming through the starfield, reading and will to go to battle. Hand clutching the joystick, a number of bleeps from his terminal alerted him to the fact that a sortie was imminent.

Hitting a button on the right of his terminal, the hydraulic hiss of his strike foils opening was strangely comforting to hear once more. Mylo most definitely preferred this to having blaster bolts fly over his head while he failed to fix up a communications rig. Executing a short snap roll to give him some momentum coming into attack, he pumped power to his shields, setting them to double front and attempting to face whatever enemy came his way, head on. Just across the length of his nosecone, small dots became larger and larger as they cut into his flight path. Taking a quick glance out of his right window, he watched the new "Wolf" Xs of Major Naldax's unit pass through.

A number of ships of the TIE Interceptor model, with threatening, jagged and angular wings like daggers approached from Velran Kilran Velran Kilran 's vessel. <"Contact! Squints at mark two, coming out of the blockade zone now."> He warned the rest of the unit. <"I'll cut across and try and draw fire. I need you to have my back Revenant Five."> Picking up some speed, he tried to balance power distribution between shields and engines, both of which he would need if he was going to pull of such a manoeuvre. For now, he diverted power to his engines. Angling the X-Wing into a diagonal, he pushed on, pulling back on the stick, rolling as he went into a half loop that helped the ship climb to a more preferable altitude. Instead of levelling off like normal after completion, he stood the ship up on it's vertical axis, quickly pumping power to his shields and setting them to double front.

This was in hope of letting the shields on the belly of the X-Wing soak up some of the inevitable fire that would come from the Interceptors. After which he rolled to let the shields covering the cockpit take up some damage to give the hull some time to recover. Pushing on, out of danger, he hoped that the fly-by had done something other than get the attention of a number of bandits on him. A fire blazed somewhere in him. It really was good to be back.

 
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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

"And for those who claim to be better than the Sith, you're acting awfully familiar." The Jedi barked back, hand reaching out just a fraction of a second too late to stop the rebel's neck from being snapped by the Imperial Knight. That single action proving the Jedi's point, for all their talks of order, discipline and not falling to the Dark Side, Simon made the conscious decision to strangle the life out of someone. To take the vulnerable spark of life and snuff it out due to it being inconvenient.

He had dragged men out of cover. But that only shifted the odds, equalised things, balancing the scales. Hell, depending on how good or bad of a shot the rebels were, the troopers were probably merely incapacitated, not dead.

Aaran dragged soldiers out of cover and left their fate up to the Will of the Force. Simon had murdered a man who had no a hope of fighting back. There was a deliberate difference between those two acts in the eyes of the Force.

And when the wave of kinetic energy surged outwards, he did not attempt to block it, he wasn't going to waste energy directly contesting the Imperial Knight. Instead he did his best to redirect the surge, upwards into the ceiling, the overflow sending him skidding backwards, his boots squeaking on the once pristine tiles that had now been caked with dust and rubble. A spiderweb of cracks appearing on the once beautiful fresco ceiling. The rebels behind him were already scrabbling backwards to a more defensive position. Wisely deciding to engage from further afield now that the Empire had dispatched a Force Sensitive of their own to the battlefield.

"And I'm certain your Moffs are incorruptible. You who give absolute power to a few, who silence all dissent. I’m sure they never squabble amongst each other, engage in petty power plays." One hand was held out, discouraging any of the rebels from firing at Simon, telling them to leave the Knight to the Jedi.

"The Senate isn't perfect. The Alliance isn't perfect. They're not meant to be." He strode forward, saber blazing as it flowed into the opening stance of Soresu. Standing mere feet ahead of Simon, making his intent clear. To get to the resistance fighters behind him, the older man would need to go through the Jedi.

"You should know this." He said, head shaking sadly. "Attempting to control too tightly. To impose your will upon others, it is not the way The Force works. Guide instead of dominate, advise instead of rule. Otherwise Free Will becomes moot." He widened his stance, preparing for the onslaught, daring Simon to make the first move, to set the pace.

Aaran knew that the older Knight in front of him probably had the edge in experience that came with age. But the Jedi was younger, faster and held the edge in terms of sheer muscle mass and reach. Both of them had been through war for most of their lives. Many could speculate that the winner could be decided by the flip of a coin.

"We both know where such attempts lead."

"So you tell me. How long before that saber of yours turns red?"

"How long before you take up the title of Darth?"
 

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Music.
Equipment in bio.
Writing with: Phaineve Halseigh Phaineve Halseigh |
Open

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Covered in oil and grime and lying on his belly in a dark, claustrophobic recess the miniscule agent toils away deep within the bowels of the New Aldera Orbital Defense Base. Prone and uncomfortable the small Anzellan fiddles with his fingers in a shrubbery of cables and springs, occasionally wincing as grinding gears reverberate through the narrow tunnels of the breathing, but so far dormant great machine. Flakes of dirt drift across the beam of the tiny flashlight attached to his goggles as he finally hears a click. The wires are replaced and connected.

He exhales, pulls out his hands from the opening, and puts back the metal lid. After a slight sigh of relief, he begins shuffling, pushing his frail frame backward to a junction of shafts he already knows like the back of his palm. As he crawls, Mox ponders how much time has passed since his deployment on New Alderaan. Working behind the scenes as nameless champions of liberty. It certainly didn't feel heroic for the tiny creature regularly stuffed inside the otherwise inaccessible ducts and nooks of the oversized planetary cannon. Yet enough years have passed in obscurity that the mental images of past memories about colleagues and public, official praises have faded into a mere empty outline that traced what once was. Comrades, friends lost without ever knowing what happened to them; their fates dictated by dossiers in archives that don't exist. Over the years, Mox had become more rigid, and lost his jubilant demeanor. He finally pops out of the suffocating crawlspace, grabs onto a ladder that runs along the vent, and takes a brief break. He inhales deeply through his nose, closing his eyes and stretching his neck. And like all through this time undercover in the Tion Republic, a single thought elevates him out of this mire of depressive thinking; at least he still had somewhat of a regular contact with his pal from the War Hogs, Phaineve Halseigh Phaineve Halseigh .

Still holding onto the ladder, he raises his finger to press the commlink in his ear, wanting to contact and report to his only friend, but then suddenly the ominous alarms of the base proliferate all around him. His hand freezes in the air, hovering just above the button in his right ear. He opens his eyes slowly, grabs back onto the ladder with both hands, and with a solemn exhale slides down the vent to face the inevitable; the fateful battle between The Empire and The Galactic Alliance has begun, here, on New Alderaan.
 
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Kelinna Tryn

Guest
K

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R E A P E R
THE EMPIRE
NEW ALDERA DEFENSE BASE | NEW ALDERAAN
ALLIES: Margo Liaeris Margo Liaeris | Velran Kilran Velran Kilran | Caarlyle Rausgeber Caarlyle Rausgeber | FN-999 | Ignacious Korvan Ignacious Korvan | TE
ENEMIES: Monos Monos | Phaineve Halseigh Phaineve Halseigh | GA
ENGAGING: Valery Noble Valery Noble | Silas Westgard Silas Westgard (Soonᵀᴹ)
GEAR: Armour | Sniper rifle | Pistol | Rifle | Vibroblade | Vibroknife | Grenade loadout
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KNIGHTS OF CYDONIA

Politics.

It always escalated situations. It still baffled Lily that small nation-clusters still think they can resist the Empire. That they thought the assassination of an Imperial dignitary would deter the Iron Will.

Damn fools.

A full-scale invasion had been authorised and SCAR was tasked to follow up on the intel they had gathered on Cophrigin. The difference this time is that each SCAR-sergeant were to lead a 20 man-fireteam to be able to take control of the base outlined in the intel.

Nothing was covert in this endeavour, after all.

"Only two entrances - North-east and South-west." Lily stood with Margo Liaeris Margo Liaeris a klick and a half from the base, outlining its schematic on the tac-map. "I'll circle around with my team to assault the platform from the north-east if you can back us from the south-west with yours. Clear it out and we'll meet up here, at the main power supply to the batteries. Destroying that will leave the batteries temporarily offline until the backup generator kicks in, so we'll need to move quickly to get to the backup here, and take that out as well." she went on, indicating their routes as handed down from Sarge. "There will definitely be heavy resistance, so be prepared to throw the kitchen sink."

The sharpshooter looked up at Margo, a rare smirk spreading on her face. "Show 'em what you can do, Stalker. Move out." The ex-Death Trooper had her moments where she got on Lily's nerves - especially when she opened her mouth, but there was no denying the skill the young woman had. Lily placed her helmet on her head and turned to join her team on their north-eastern assault, but she stopped after a few steps and looked back at Margo. "Liaeris!" she called after her. "No quarter." she ordered as her fellow SCAR-trooper turned back.

No quarter.

It was a devastating order to give - especially to those that no longer had anything personal to lose. Once upon a time, there was still some humanity to be found in the Reaper. Once upon a time, she would have dreaded the order. Not anymore. Hal Vaiken Hal Vaiken kept digging to try and bring that humanity back, but she couldn't give what she no longer had.

There was only the void.

The sniper and her fire-team had circled around and had broken through the outer perimeter. Alarms blared, but that didn't halt the squad. The sun was blotted out by the smoke from blasterfire while more and more Republicans fell before the specialised team. It didn't take too long to breach into the facility itself.

<Stalker, Reaper. We're in and moving.>


 
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
BYOO
Tag: Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe
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New Alderaan. A place where the original planet had sought refuge once the first one had been destroyed. Julius knew that feeling, being forced out of your home and forced to seek another place to live. Anaxsis had experienced it recently, on Yinchorr. Turning your foster world into your initial world was a daunting task, one which consumed the second planet and forced it to be moulded into something new. Settlers would call it 'something better'. And indeed, Alderaanis on New Alderaan, and Anaxsis on Yinchorr had done marvels. Even the desert planet looked a little bit more like the Azure Jewel, ten years in the settlement process: the treacherous aliens brought to heel, the capital shaped in a way that mimicked Pols Anaxes… the results were promising.

Alderaanis had done wonders too, and this planet, though off-centred, though away from meaningful hyperroutes, had climbed to a position some would envy. The Tion Republic. Threatened by the Bryn'adûl, by the Sith, but never destroyed, until the Empire had set its iron gaze upon it. The cluster possessed a bounty of resources the Imperial war machine required direly, and the wealth of the Republic had made some Imperial administrators lose their temper. The Triumvirs had ordered the Tionese to surrender their independence to the Empire: their refusal was faced with a decree authorising the conquest of the cluster.

Now, the various parts of the war machine were acting as one, to make the defiant Tionese submit and subjugate their capital, thus ending the protracted campaign to get ahold of these territories. For Julius, the invasion meant near-open warfare with the Alliance, something he wished to avoid at all costs. The Empire could not really afford a war at the moment, not when communications with the south were becoming so much more important. Hence, he was there to stall the Alliance, who had promised to defend the Tionese. So predictable. While the Imperial Navy asserted its dominance over the orbit of New Alderaan, the diplomat would have an easy time pressuring the Alliance diplomat and convincing him to withdraw the GADF. An Imperial victory was ahead.
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Aerarii Tithe was not someone Haskler had met before. Of course, he had heard of him. In fact, he knew him pretty well, if you could know someone from spying on him and stalking his name through reports. Either way, the diplomat was no stranger to Tithe's way of viewing things, and he had understood quickly how the man reasoned: everything was measured in terms of profitability. He held that from his former rival and superior, Enlil, but had also gathered intel from other sources, directly under the Chancellor's nose.
He knew he could approach the meeting two ways, and he knew he could convince him to withdraw the Alliance's forces if he made him see reason. But he also could use the situation to his own advantage, and perhaps strings were to be pulled.

All these thoughts crossed Julius's mind as he made his way to the meeting room, one of the future ex-Supreme Chancellor's choices of places for the conference. Not that he disapproved of the Aarguan's tastes in the matter; as a matter of fact, he found this fellow Core-worlder to be perfectly educated on this matter. Unsurprising.
He brushed his spotless, deep Republic-blue uniform, entering the office. He wore his formal attire, though it was without any ornaments other than his rank plaque. While the colour might seem unusual, or striking when seen alongside the classic, grey uniforms, it was the one chosen by the Anaxsis in exile to remind everyone of where they came from. It would also serve as a reminder to Tithe and make sure he was aware that Julius had been banned from Alliance space after his failed coup and that the revolutionaries were still working on their plan to retake the Jewel.

While he was taking his seat at the negotiations table, Haskler made sure to exchange the formal greetings that were in order, before getting straight to the point of the conversation.

"Supreme Chancellor, even though I am honoured to meet you, I must admit the circumstances are quite unusual. The… situation on New Alderaan is preoccupying, but I hope the Alliance does not wish to interfere? I am told that military personnel would be better off liberating a hard-pressed Core, rather than being swung across the galaxy for such an insignificant planet.

Speaking of the Core, how are the operations going? Since the Maw threatened to cut the Alliance's communication lines in two, I was deeply worried any semblance of economy or politics could be maintained. Rumours were spreading… but I hope everything is for the best. If you need it, the Empire can provide you with whatever you need to keep your positions afloat. I know you value the strength of the market more than anything else.
"

While politely asking about the state of the Core, the diplomat was seeding its own, unspoken questions, in the mind of the Chancellor: how long would he manage to keep a profitable position in the Alliance? how to trust a quickly falling-apart military? ergo, how did he still have faith in the Alliance's markets? and if he didn't, what was he envisioning for the future?



 
shadow of the empire


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In the years since his induction into the Imperial war machine, his experience on a true battlefield suffered; limited or short-lived, an assassin relegated to the darkest shadows and intended to enforce the direct will of the Iron Emperor had little overall use in amongst the vast rank and file battalions of stormtroopers. Fel had use for Veno elsewhere, though others seemed to disagree once the former failed to draw breath any longer. The proverbial black ink lifted from the page with no shortage of heinous actions revealed across Imperial documents. All in the name of the Empire, all for the Emperor.

Ave Rurik.

Even in death, his vision would carry on.

Yet the transitional period the Empire entered in the wake of the Tython situation had demanded Veno find some occupational alterations. Gone were the days of an eternal shadow cast over the Imperial operative; buried beneath mountains of redacted information, to exist in a non-official capacity, to be the personal boogeyman of the Emperor. He was real, and unfamiliar chaos of all-out war was a welcome surprise.

"Toss me that," demanded Veno with his gloved fingers reaching out towards the stormtrooper's cumbersome weapon spittling faint flames from the nozzle. He caught it with a grunt. The agent leaned his armoured frame into the wall by the door alongside the small squad of battle-hardened stormtroopers. "Blow it."

What was once a door splintered into shrapnel, spewing out across the room and embedding into the make-shift fortifications. Stormtroopers spilled into the room with blasters running hot, though hardly as hot as the flamethrower Veno followed in with. He bathed the room in fire, friend and foe alike set ablaze with reckless abandon. Granted, Imperial stormtrooper armour was rather durable. But whether he accounted for that or not, the stormtroopers themselves didn't seem to care with all the anger it stoked in them. Yet beneath his helmeted visage, Veno remained focused. Those screams, from both fear and searing pain, only emboldened his advance. With each step forwards, his finger never even tempted the idea of lifting.

It ran out of juice before he thought to stop.

Veno emerged onto the street out from underneath a thick haze of black smoke. The Imperial soldiers darted off onto an objective of their own, or so he presumed. True or not, he hardly cared. Armed with the rifle once slung over his back, Veno sought another fight in the name of the Empire. Sooner he could bring them to heel, whoever 'them' may be, the sooner Tion fell into Imperial control.

Auteme Auteme

 

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