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Location: Mirial | The Capital. Objective: Scribble. Allies: The Sith Empire & Mirial. - Right now, [member="Tabigarashu Madara"] | [member="Darth Lykos"] Enemies: The Silver Jedi & Allies.
Lord Saarai frowned as some of the ink was spilled and ruined the flimsiplast.
There went about fifteen minutes of work, that specific piece of paper would have granted Mirialan contractors further preferential treatment for reconstruction efforts on Mirial itself. It was a matter of sense- the workers lived here, knew the lay of the land and truly cared about getting the job done right.
Instead of just grabbing as much credits as possible without a care for quality.
Just before the Thirriken could start scribbling once more his datalink started beeping. The Sith Lord squinted at it for a moment, wondering if it would just go away if he looked at it furious enough. Two seconds passed, three, four and the insistent beeping showed no signs of giving him a rest. He sighed and a wing brushed past the controls.
It was a burst of information, encrypted and encoded by a Sith agent by the name of Darth Lykos.
Peacock head tilted slightly.
Lykos... Lykos... the mysterious and shadowy zabrak, yes. He had always disturbed Tai to one degree or another, dead, opaque eyes staring at you without saying a word. As if an entire tale passed through the assassin's mind, but all you received was a bloody grin and then after a blink he was simply gone.
Truly dreadful, but sometimes you needed a finely-shaped scalpel rather than a hammer or even a simple carrot.
With a click the integrated computer systems started decrypting the information relayed over to him by Lykos. It would presumably be a while, seeing as there were several layers of deeply-ingrained encryption spun around it.
Location: Mirial
Objective: Work on dealing with the undead
Allies: The Sith [member="Calina Ovmar"] [member="Enyo Typhos"]
Enemies: Those bloody undead, eventually the Jedi
"My Lady, we were able to contain one of the creatures."
The Lady of Secrets and her forces had moved onto to the next incursion spot, an abandoned house that had been that way, so she was told, since the Primeval devastation. Her mind had been musing the question on the dark side aura that kept the zombies from attacking those who commanded the Force, even as her lightsaber had cut down several of the monsters. Perhaps some sort of amulet or ring, alchemized of course, so that beings outside the walls or perimeter of a city might be a excellent deterrent. Well, at least until the vaccine against the zombie bites was perfected.
There could also be... an extra thing added in, spells woven in to pacify and instill a deep seated loyalty to the Sith. They were well on the way to doing that already just by their actions in trying to rebuild the world, but every little bit helped. Hearts and minds after all were most important to win.
"Have it transported to where Calina and her research is ongoing," she ordered. "I suspect she will appreciate another intact subject."
Anything to get rid of these bloody zombies. Sweeping out of the house, she pulled up her datapad to look at the next site on her list. Reports were stating an incursion had occurred a few klicks away, apparently some desperate souls had tunneled out of the city when the Primeval began their slaughter of the population. That tunnel would need to be collapsed to stop any further entrance of zombies from outside.
"Captain, we're moving on."
Yes, she mused as they walked through the streets of the capital, a produced amulet that projected an aura of the dark side for the person wearing it, giving the illusion to theWoyunokut that they were dealing with a Force user. She would need to contact the alchemist on world and get them working on it, once she finished up her list.
Location: Wherever the Dark Lord goes next Objectives: Hover around the Dark Lord until action starts Allies: [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Kaalia Voldaren"] [member="Vaylin"] [member="Lord Depravious"] & Sith Empire and Allies Enemies: Silver Jedi & Allies Equipment: Battle ArmourLightsaber
During the descent to the planet’s capital, Greta had taken the time to get to know Mirial, or at least as much as she could possibly know about the planet anyway. She’d never been to the planet before, and it was always good to know what you were going to be heading into, especially if you were expecting to fight in it soon enough. She’d read about how the planet had changed hands, what, three times now? First, the Jedi, then the Dominion (albeit, short lived), and then now into the capable hands of the Sith Empire. Third time's the charm yeah? The Sith knight did think so. She’d also read about the zombies that plagued the city, an undesirable side effect from one of the methods that had been used by a Zambrano Hutt in the past. These zombies, Woyunokut (what a name) had no adverse reaction the dark side, and only hunted everything else.
Lucky for those of the Sith, and bad luck for anyone else. Sucks to be them, she thought. Unfortunately, that type of thinking did the civilians of the populace no favours, and the Empire had to find some way to protect its people if it wanted the very same people to stand by them. As soon as she reached the planet’s surface, Greta headed straight for the main building. The Dark Lord would soon be making his presence known to the planet leaders.
The Sith knight was there to personally escort Lord Carnifex and his retinue when he arrived to grace the leaders of Mirial with his valuable time. Even without him knowing, the Zambrano Sith Lord has had a long impression on the young woman, long before she was even Sith. Now that she was Sith, that changed nothing, in fact it only amplified up tenfold. Having the Dark Lord around among his fellow warriors inspired confidence even if he was only there for appearance sake. Greta gave the Dark Lord a respectful bow along with a charming smile as he proceeded forward. The meeting was shortly adjourned upon the news of another Sith Lord arriving, a Darth Avacyn that he was supposed to meet.
Following the rest of the Carnifex’s retinue as he left, the building was quickly vacated of the group of Sith as she tagged along with her favourite Sith Lord.
Objective: Maintain Order Allies: The Sith Empire Enemies: Silver Jedi Order, [member="jorg"]
"Sweeper Lead, can I just say that these new boots are a gods send?" Came a soft voice in her ear as Sweeper One One moved up to an intersection at the lead of his tactical file and took a knee. His helmet kept the sound from travelling to anyone who didn't have their comm frequency.
Sweeper One One peeked his rifle around the corner and nodded. Sweeper One Two paused behind him, then ran across the intersection to take the mirror position on the opposite side. Opposite them, Sweeper Two One and Sweeper Two Two were also in covering positions.
"Clear." The harder, yet more feminine tones of Sweeper Two One reported in.
"The boots are nice, but can we keep the chatter down a bit?" Anora replied, though the squad could hear her smirk in her voice. "Are you clear One One?"
"Aye, clear." One One chuckled. The rest of Sweeper Squad moved across the street, every other operator with their eyes and rifle aimed up to cover the roofs of the buildings around them.
"I don't know what you all are on about, the boots are fine, but I have to wear extra socks just to fit into mine." Sweeper One Four replied, his rifle and eyes aimed up as he crossed the street.
"Church, you need to stop telling the quartermaster you're a size eleven." Sweeper One One replied, and Anora rolled her eyes as she moved across the intersection as well and took a knee in the shadow of the right hand buildings to wait for her squad to form up.
"Those readers are off, I swear..." Sweeper One Four replied, a chorus of chuckles followed the common refrain.
"No, Church, you're just ashamed to have tiny feet and you like the Quartermaster." One One moved at the back of his file now, with One Four leading the left side until the next intersection.
"Hey-"
The conversation was cut off as a decaying body pushed through the door of a building up and on the right. The forward half of the squad had beads on it in a moment, whereas the ones in the tail of the formation aimed rifles back the way they came. These zombies often popped up in groups, and could have a wide spread wave that spanned several blocks.
"Contact front." Sweeper Two Four reported, the zombie turned towards the group and came on. Two Four lined up a shot and drilled a hole through its head with a red bolt from his blaster rifle. The zombie became a true corpse in the street.
"Alright, keep the chatter down, we've got a block to go." Anora ordered, and the squad resumed walking. With the sighting, even of just one, the mood of the group had changed. Everyone was all business now, even Church and his ill fitting boots.
They reached the middle of the block before they found the wave as it came into the intersection just before Kohli Nars Bar. The lead of each file took a knee and began to take the zombies under fire without even waiting for orders. The soldiers behind made an echelon aiming back and towards the middle of the street, with One One and Two One aimed back the way they came.
Anora, separate from either file, stood over the kneeling body of Two Four. She was comfortable firing from just about any position, and she poured her fire into the crowd of zombies with cold efficiency. The lines behind the front of zombies began to trip over the bodies in front of them, the bolts from Sweeper Squad keeping any of them from coming closer for the moment.
But she did as he asked anyway- mostly because she had been about to do it anyway and she wasn't that petty- grumbling the whole time.
"Thinks he needs to do his job and mine."
She paused it on the only frame that caught a good view of the tats and made a face.
"I dunno, I don't speak 'crazyassalienmurderer,'" she paused, looking up and squinting at the ceiling as if it would help her. "Speak it? Read it? Look, the point is, I have no idea what the locals mean when they tattoo things across their bodies. I know it's supposed to be spiritual or somethin' but mostly it looks like they let their kids fingerpaint on 'em. Well, there was this one lady.... she had this thing right above her, well, anyway, I spent a lot of time staring at that let me tell you and she said it meant..... oh hell if I remember now, I didn't really care what she was sayin'."
Dante coughed.
"Anyway, looks like we've got more of that group that's been making trouble in the capital?"
She didn't know much about it. Above her pay grade as it were.
"I'll send something off so they know we've got separatist activity out here. Think it's the same folks?"
He did notice she did what he had suggested anyway.
Was that a smug tug at the corner of his mouth? Maybe!
In the meantime Morgan was getting anxious and he didn't like it when he got anxious. It was this weird, insistent buzz at the back-end of his spine that refused to go away, until he gave it a satisfying scratch. Sadly that scratch usually meant either shooting something or digging the feth out of a secret, until it was uncovered completely. Not just a nose itch he could ask Dante to scratch for him, though something told Morgan that she'd probably kill him if he did.
So touchy sometimes.
"Those tattoos signify they mastered something." Smirk grew wider as he extrapolated the meaning from her words about the lady-friend. "Sounds to me your Mirialan had been quite the master of some moves."
Then he got serious again.
Because the separatists weren't a joke.
They had been here from the start- some kind of cult worshiping death and all that came with it. By all accounts they had been here, before the zombie plague turned up and Mirial itself joined the Empire. But it was only after the plague that their strength increased. There was something about the walking dead that strengthened the message a fully-fledged Death Cult was selling to its members. "Can't know for sure, until we actually get our hands on one."
Could be a coincidence.
Morgan didn't believe in coincidences.
"But I think so, yeah, too big a coincidence. We will need to be careful moving forward." It was the only group that had any serious traction and strength. All the other separatist groups were basically a joke, either already put down by the Saaraishash before they could grow or assimilated by the cult because of the Sith's gains into their territory.
They drove for a while, the silence interrupted every so often by radio chatter, before they got their final orders.
They'd press on alone- apparently there was trouble in the capital, the same separatist cultists popping up there. "Definitely not a coinci-" Suddenly the truck's engine sputtered out and forward momentum was lost.
"The feth?"
From one moment to the next the truck just stopped functioning. First the engine, then the internal systems; heating, radio, music player, even their dang cup-holders didn't want to retract again and give them room. One problem after the next, Morgan didn't like this at all.
LOCATION: Mirial Capital, not far from the slums OBJECTIVE: Invade Mirial. Nicely. ALLIES: [member="Madeline Roux"] | The Silver Jedi Order ENEMIES: [member="Calina Ovmar"] | [member="Enyo Typhos"] | The Sith Empire
She was prepared, waiting for something to happen. Nothing had happened yet, and it only made it worse. But she wanted to be ready.
Armor, check. Sword, check. Maddie, check. It was minimal protection, because her hope was to need none. They went, they helped those that the Sith Empire's efforts had overlooked, and they helped halt operations against the Silvers. And they stayed beneath the radar. Neither she nor Madeline wanted to sow chaos here - they had that in common from the start.
Only fight when you are in danger.
But she expected a danger, so she was prepared.
~PREVIOUSLY~
"Okay, Maddie, we're landing in a few.
You know the plan?"
"Find people who need help in the slums-
evacuation, anything. If we need to
get in the way of something we cause
as little damage as we can-
"And we fight only as a last resort," Lina finished.
"Okay. I'll try not to crash us first."
The slums of Mirial's capital were rife with people even at this hour, but Lina knew she could stop and appreciate the scenery when they weren't on a schedule. This had to be a quiet move, little trouble, over fast. Painless.
"If everything's peaceful, we prep a safezone," Lina said lowly, clearly not expecting everything to be peaceful. "Let's- let's poke around first, see what we find. I'm not that sure what to expect."
She had listened intently throughout her briefing. But theory and practice were two very different beasts.
So they scouted the slums - and soon enough, findings pointed them towards a lab. Theory was one thing. Here came practice.
The Fury class Interceptors rallied first to the call, engines screaming above the sirens in the hangar as they rocketed out of the belly of the Praetorian Fist. "Blackblade Leader to command, we have entered sub-atmosphere and are awaiting orders." The pilot spoke in a voice distorted by his helmet, which provisioned him with a real-time heads up display and technical readouts of flight and combat data.
"Acknowledged, Blackblade Actual," the Tactical Officer replied as he looked over the scans and then back at Alkor. "You are our first responders, so be ready for my command. At the moment, continue with sub-atmospheric fly-overs and harry any ships unauthorized for entry. We will be dispatching fighters to defend the fleet and deny planetary entry shortly."
He closed to commit channel as Blackblade Squadron roared past the helm of Praetorian Fist. "Are you certain that these measures are absolutely necessary?" The Tactician asked Alkor skeptically. "Even with your mysticism, we've picked up nothing- not even the scantest of anomalies-"
"I will not tolerate reckless endangerment of our efforts on the ground here," Alkor reminded him, "remember how the first Death Star fell to Rebels over Yavin IV."
The Tactical Officer fell silent for a moment, running numbers and recalling various simulations from his training. "Of course," he muttered. "I defer to your judgment on the matter."
Alkor took a step forward. "Scramble the fighter elements fleet-wide," the Dark Jedi called out. "I want a net so thick nothing will get between our ships and the surface. There is to be no capital fire toward the planet. Prioritize power to shields, and prepare the Bloody Sunrise and Virulent Umbra to move."
"Are you insane?" The Officer questioned immediately. "I understand Interceptors and TIEs, but you're authorizing Interdictors?"
"Mirial has not yet complied to Imperial Law." Alkor glared sidelong at the man. "Until they become complicit, outside influence is a fragile thing. We must assure no such issues are allowed to occur."
"My orders were to defend the planet," the Tactical Officer began, "not to-"
Alkor placed a hand over the man's mouth and placed a finger to his, the universal signal for silence. "Your orders are irrelevant now, Tactical Officer. For the Sith."
"For the Sith," the man managed to mutter through Alkor's hand as it tightened on his flesh. The bone around his jaw creaked and he heard a sickening crunch, and tears began to stream down his cheeks.
"Good man," Alkor replied.
The Fighter Squadrons across the Sith Fleet began to mobilize...
Space - Drop Pod - City Allies: SJO Enemies: TSE, [member="Anora Demici"]
Jorg shifted uncomfortably.
Drop pods on the best of days were tiny tight fitting things that most people would have liked to avoid for their entire lives. Jorg wasn't exactly comfortable either. He'd always preferred using a nice dropship, or better yet a large assault craft that could ferry around a thousand soldiers or more. Yet here he was, packed into a can of sardines as tight as...well sardines. He frowned for a moment, glancing up at the blue-green screen on the edge of his view.
The scowl that pulled across his lips was something supremely telling.
There was only one minute left, one minute before he...suddenly the counter ticked down and Jorg let out a loud curse. Apparently the timer wasn't exactly accurate, that or the Hyperdrive on this damned thing was a lot faster than the timer could keep up with. A heartbeat passed, and then suddenly the drop pod dumped out of hyperspace. It was a sudden lurch that did it, not that the pod actually moved much slower than it had before. Briefly he caught the blue winks of other pods dropping out, but in the blackness of space he couldn't see much more.
The pods went hurtling through space in an instant, dashing through the stars almost like comets. His fingers wrapped around the two handles by his side, his eyes scrunching closed. The thrusters on it pressed to the pod to the side, pushing the vessel on the correct trajectory. Then the first lurch tore through the pod.
He took in a gasp as the atmosphere hit the pod, long paths of flames tearing behind him. Jorg popped open his eyes, glancing around himself to spot the nearby pods. He let out a cool breath, but then braced himself as he hurtled towards the ground. The Soldier saw the city growing closer and closer, a final breath entered his lungs.
Then his pod went crashing into one of the skyscrapers looming in the sky.
Location: Mirial, Outskirts of Capital City Objective: Join the rebels (who are really zombie-protected cultists) Allies: SJO Opposition: Sith and especially [member="Darth Lykos"] Gear: Blade of the Satvas, Blaster, Lightsaber, Mandalorian Power Shield, Armorweave
Halfway down to the Mirial surface, Setzi began the process of hiding her light aura through Force Concealment, and upon landing, she was certain that no one could detect she was a Jedi, neither light nor dark. It was too chancy to try and disguise herself as a darksider as her battle on Ossus with the vornskr-masked Sith Lord only proved too reckless and dangerous, allowing her to go to the brink of the abyss where any foe with half a brain could have pushed her right over the edge. Nope. Not this time.
Once The Pirate’s Foe had touched down in a small patch of open land surrounded by filigrees of brambles on either side, Setzi engaged the landing claws and briefly studied a crude map that had leaked out on the Holonet about the location of these Mirialan rebels. Something did not sit right with her, but she knew with the Sith afoot, it would be foolish to waltz into the capital alone.
Still just as she’d skirted the brambles and emerged from the woods, near to where the safe house supposedly was, the Jedi Knight noticed three to four figures walking slowly around the perimeter.
“Hallo there!” Setzi called out in Basic, but as she got closer, she realized they were not Mirialans.
Feth, they were not even human.
Her blaster out and firing, she took cover behind a large tree stump, but to her dismay the figures kept coming closer, shambling towards her. She was gazing upon a set of creatures fused together from alchemy, darksider blood and rotten, cadaverous flesh. Darth Azurea herself had created one of these creatures once and as the red hot blaster bolts barely scratched the surface, Setzi knew that she’d need to expose herself now.
Hoping there were no Sith nearby, she ceased concealing her alignment, ignited her saber and began to slash through the putrid undead soldiers. With a blast of telekinesis, she thrust them away and into some nearby trees, eventually creating a barrier of light that they seemed to not be able to penetrate.
As she kept the creatures at bay, she wondered, is this the first wave of some strange kind of new weapon? What do the rebels know of these beings and how many are there?
With the zombies disintegrating from the burn of the Force light, Setzi sprinted for the safe house, unaware of the danger that lay inside.
Kith sat on the window sill of one of the outer defense towers. She sighed, elbow propped on her knee, chin in her hand. One leg hung over the outside of the window, swinging absently as she regarded the growing dusk. In the distance, she could see the stars starting to prickle the purple of the sky over the city. Everything was as quiet as an industrial landscape could possibly be.
The problem was that it wasn't supposed to be.
"The intel was accurate," she said out loud, to no one in particular.
The fact that [member="Luca Thorne"] was on the other side of the room, playing two hands of cards against himself was irrelevant.
"They should have been here by now. Tripping the sensors at the edge of the system."
She glanced over at the sensor feed, being sent to them by the SatCom. Other than normal traffic in and out of the system, everything looked.... aggressively normal.
Normally, Kith didn't look forward to a fight. Not specifically. Oh, there was a certain satisfaction to a job well done, but she didn't revel in the moment itself. But right now, after that meeting with [member="Darth Carnifex"], she could really use a distraction.
Unfortunately, the one their spies had promised from the Silver Jedi was..... late. All dressed up with no where to be. Kith was feeling... oddly stood up.
She huffed slightly, leaning back against the inside of the window.
"You keep sighing like that and you will catch a bug." Luca pointed out calmly, if slightly occupied with the stack of cards being dealt once more. It wasn't as fun as doing it with someone else, but for now Kith had refused to play with him while they waited.
He caught the strange look she had send him once he settled himself down, boots perching on a nearby chair and cards in hand.
Sure.
There would be a battle, Luca rationalized, but the battle wasn't here yet... so why worry? He cursed as he got a bad card again.
"Maybe they are cloaked." The soldier offered without taking his eyes off the cards. "Maybe they are using their cheap Jedi parlour tricks." Another supply was offered as the third card was turned around. It was the Bantha and that basically ended the game for him. "Maybe they got caught in a black hole in transit and won't come at all."
Shrug of the shoulders to punctuate the futility of speculation.
"Sitting there and moping ain't getting us closer to victory, Kith."
Location:Meteor-class Assault FrigateKusanagi, Open Space (Corva Sector) Objective: Deployment, eventually meet up with [member="Darth Ananta"] Allies: SJO and Friends Enemies: TSE and Friends
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YhdNjzX4waA
From the CIC, Arisa observed shared feeds from the advanced flotilla, the near hemisphere of Mirial coming into view [SIZE=11pt]as as[/SIZE] the frigates came to the end of their journey, still in stealth mode. Through biocomm, the flotilla initiated contact with Separatist leaders holed within the city for check-in, while also beginning passive scans of the capital from above.
Awfully busy for three in the morning she thought studying readouts from energy receptors and bio-scanners. Several masses moving through streets and buildings, with even a few signs of sporadic combat here and there. It was clear that some sort of operation was underway. What were the odds...
“Salvatore to Kusanagi, we’ve established successful contact with Fulcrum.” Fulcrum was the codename for the Mirialan Colonel Marza Sinan, a former Dominion officer turned resistance leader.
“Very, good,” she answered with a nod. “Patch them through.”
The monitor on her command chair chirped with a notification of successful connection, a new window showing up with crimson letters of “voice only” against a black backdrop.
“Fulcrum, this is Sparrow. Advanced forces in are position and prepared for deployment. I’m seeing a lot of activity on the ground, though. Your people?”
“Negative,” he replied, sounding quite irritated. “We’re still in standby position waiting for you. The city is now infested with the undead, and we’ve seen a large influx of Sith regulars as result. It’s quite possible that the operation may be compromised.”
“Interesting, usually it’s the Sith cooking up mutants instead of destroying them.” Arisa leaned back in her seat for a few moments in quiet contemplation, reminded of her ordeal on Deneba against a previous iteration of the Sith Empire.
“Should we call off the operation?”
“No, if the Sith are trying to play hero right now, then that only works to our favor. I’ll be making some modifications, but the operation will proceed as planned. Please sit tight, we’re coming.”
“Thank you, we’ll be here.”
“Kusanagi to Delta Group (stealth frigates), be advised, Class IV biological threats have been reported on the surface. Ensure all units deploy with CBRN kits. Proceed with maneuver Black Halo.”
The frigates crept forward for a gradual descent into Mirial’s atmosphere. Once past the lower stratosphere, the frigates released staggered salvos of EWAR missiles above [SIZE=11pt]them,[/SIZE] and launched dozens of ECM drones below. The EWAR missiles detonated, releasing thick clouds sensor baffling Nagnol gas. The ECM drones activated their decoy systems, mimicking the signatures of Meteor frigates and LAAT dropships. [SIZE=11pt]Altogether[/SIZE], these countermeasures were being used to hide the real vessels of Delta from enemy sensors above and below during the vulnerable period of deployment.
The frigates began to hover within the ozone layer, and the green light was given to begin deployment of ground units. Fighters, and dropships like the A-10 LAAT began to stream out the hangar bays of the Pantera for the capital. While gunship had the initial tasking of landing troops, the fighters had been tasked with escort duty and SEAD. Once the LAAT did their initial job, then they could transition to providing CAS and medivac.
Within the main group, additional fighters began to disgorge from their motherships in in preparation for the final phase of the operation.
Location: Mirial city place
Objective: Protect our peoples
Allies: The Sith
Enemies: Those bloody undead, eventually the Jedi [member="Darth Saarai"] -cuz he's foul. Get it? He's foul! Never mind.
Odium raced around a corner and was confronted by the dreadful feral zombies that had been left by the primeval or some such nonsense. His saber staff hissed to life instantly. His large black eyes narrowed and a grim smile spread on his green cracked lips.
The creatures surged toward him and he stood casually and raised a hand. The force surged through him and he used his greatest skill. He drained them of life. They spasmed and writhed as they crashed to the ground. It was over in a moment and a Mirialan woman he had not seen rushed up to him and offered her thanks. The living essence would have tasted better the the zombie ones had but he didn't indulge. He calmly pushed her away and pointed inside.
Suddenly a strange sound ripped the air and the sounds of ships breaking the atmosphere could be heard. Somewhere, ships had entered the air space of the capital. Odium turned on a heel and ran toward the main street between the star port and the residential district where he had been patrolling. If someone thought they could hurt Sith citizens, they were wrong. And they smelled bad. And there mothers were Mandalorian bar maids.
Location | Capital of Mirial Objective | Protect civilians Company | None currently
Vexen would have been resuming his routes as usual since the last incident. He was in conversation with Captain Varkos of the TSA infantry stationed in the capital, constantly exchanging reports and giving orders to tighten patrols. Something was off, and it wasn't the fact that there were hordes of zombies across Mirial or fanatic death cults, neither of which interested Vexen remotely. But he was sensing something approaching and was certain of his fellow Sith having felt it too. Vexen would raise his hand up as a hologram of Varkos appeared in his palm as he spoke, " Captain, what is the status of our garrisons on Mirial? " A brief pause would follow as Varkos consulted one of his staff before responding, " Currently on standby sir. We have yet to respond to any mass hordes on approach to any major population centers across the planet. " "Stay alert Captain. Notify me if anything occurs. Immediately... " " Of course sir, " With the Captain's response the man would nod and bow before the hologram faded.
Vexen's senses were still not put to rest as he strode through the largely empty streets. He would look up at the night sky and stared in deep thought as his arms were folded across his chest, pondering upon the disturbance he felt. Something continued to approach, like a predator stalking its prey, waiting for the right moment to pounce. He would continue walking, the shift of his armor making metallic rustling noises as his cape trailed and dragged along the floor he stepped upon. He was deep in thought, lost in the silence, as he sensed something; it was not the dark essence but the light essence that he had consumed so many years ago. There was a faint recollection of a memory, and in that memory a familiarity with what was approaching.
It would not be long before his silence was interrupted, a screech in the sky as a flaming object flashed across the sky. Mirial was not known to have meteor showers, so this came as a surprise when said object impacted against a skyscraper. It would take a moment for him to process before he muttered under his breath and began to run off to the nearest garrison. As he ran he would raise his hand up and activate the holocommunicator, " Captain, raise the alarm and alert all units on standby. We have foreign trespassers infiltrating the city. I want your men deployed immediately. Raise the nearest base and have them prep transports and men to the capital. " " Sir, we have not detected anythin- " " Immediately Captain, or I will have your head ." " Right away sir! " Glass and metal would come crashing down from the skyscraper that had been impacted against along with numerous others. He needed to get to a holostation and broadcast immediately.
As he was running to the nearest station to begin a broadcast, dozens of TSA infantry could be seen running around as they were being deployed within the city to prepare for whatever had intruded, scrambling to get to defensive positions as smaller squads were dispatched to investigate and handle whatever had been launched at them. Lights from homes could be seen turning on as the curious faces of Mirialins could be seen peaking out. Vexen would promptly arrive at one as he stepped on the holographic projector. Dozens of large holoprojectors that had been installed for such an occasion would come to life, and with it large holographic images of the armored Sith appeared in a ghostly blue light, his words booming and echoing throughout the city.
Vexen's ghostly image would raise his hands out as if he were about to offer someone an embrace before his voice was heard," People of Mirial, hear me now. We of the Sith Empire have come to help you rebuild and start anew. We have worked hard to make you feel welcome to our empire and accept you as our citizens. " The figure would turn as it paused briefly, all eyes on his projection from windows and his voice heard over any device that transmitted the communication he was sending out in homes. " But some wish to trample upon this relationship we have been working to achieve. They wish to take from you and destroy what we have been working to rebuild since your last tragedy. You have suffered enough. We will protect you. We will fight for you. We will not forsake you and leave you to be harmed by whoever dares to bring war back to your homes and planet. But those of you who wish to fight. To rise up against these invaders seeking to tear down what we have worked hard to create together. Take up arms and fight for your homes, your families, your planet. We will fight this enemy together. The Sith Empire will not ask you to risk your lives to fight and protect your homes. Only assist us if you are devoted to the protection of your people. "
The message would rewind and begin to playback, not a continuous repetition, but enough to get the blood boiling of those who hated to see a foreign power trying to ruin what was being rebuilt. It seemed his charismatic speech had worked. Another message would begin to play, though only verbally. It would begin to broadcast and repeat as a general state of emergency was being declared. " People of Mirial. The city is not safe. Please remain indoors and locked inside. TSA soldiers will arrive door to door to escort you to nearby shelters. Please do not panic. " Surely enough soldiers would be going from door to door, gathering those who wished to be escorted to more secure locations. Men, women, children, elderly would all be herded outside, mixed in with soldiers that would make it difficult for the soldiers to be attacked without shooting at civilians.
Vexen would stride out as his message was relayed to all of Mirial. Those who wished to fight would take up arms and integrate with veteran soldiers to take up defensive positions, all who had decided to take up arms in full support of the Sith Empire and willing to risk their lives. They would not be sheep waiting to be slaughtered, they would fight back and bare their fangs at those who came to bring harm and chaos. Vexen would have his holocommunicator beep as he raised his hand, a distressed image of the Captain appearing " Sir! We have multiple contacts entering the atmosphere. Small ships and fighters are being deployed out of nowhere and we have incoming warships inbound. " " Alert the fleet and get every available soldier you can spare and muster to defend the capital Captain. I will contact the Darth council myself. " The hologram would vanish as he began to contact Darths and any other leadership currently on Mirial to inform them of the situation if they were unaware.
Location: Mirial | The Capital Objective: Discover what the Cult is up to this time. Allies: TSE Enemies: Cultists/Separatists, probably SJO
They scurried through the walls.
The building was old enough that the inner portions of the stonework were simply rotten and riddled with passages perfect for a Nezumi. It was what had let them get in unnoticed the last time, infiltrating and getting [member="Darth Saarai"] the information he'd needed to take out an entire cell of the cultists.
Of course.... they'd had losses.
Right now, Hirou tried not to think too much about the three Nezumi that had given their lives to get that information back to Lord Tai Fa. If it hadn't been for them, Hirou never would have made it out. Their sacrifices had allowed it.
And now?
Now they were back and-
Hirou and Tiba froze, the very walls *shaking* for a moment as something shuddered through the building. Perking up their ears at each other, they hurried forward to a particular crack in the façade and peered out.
Two buildings over, *something* had crashed into a skyscraper. Hirou flicked their ears, tilting their head slightly. In the far distance, a strange cloud could be seen. Hirou didn't know anything about what was going on out there, but it was clear something certainly wasn't right!
"Good thing Lord Fa is here," they confided confidently to Tiba. The black mouse nodded in agreement.
Whatever it was, he would sort it out.
Voices could be heard, the acoustics of the building carrying them to the pair of Nezumi. But from this distance, the words themselves couldn't be understood clearly. Nodding in silent assent, the two continued their journey.
Reaching a particular junction, they peeked out of a hole that led to a beam across the interior of the old ballroom. Carefully, silently, they scampered across, peering over the edge at the half dozen forms gathered below.
"Already the deaths have started..... I didn't expect them this soon. Isn't it glorious, brother?"
Hirou blinked at Tiba, staring wide eyed back.
"I did not expect it so soon- but these were close- a dozen lives snuffed out in an instant of panic and fear."
Whatever had happened to the skyscraper, Hirou realized.
Whatever that was related to.... these men knew about it. Swiveling their ears, the two Nezumi listened.
Leaning back in her chair, the Rattataki Sith Lord sipped her tea and looked up at the sky. There was something odd about the colour this day, and a sensation that sh- Her head turned to her right where a silhouette came shambling through the sand. Darth Ophidia surveyed it for a short while, making sure it was what she thought it was and not some dehydrated wanderer. The lack of a lower jaw and the exposed ribs confirmed her suspicion.
Casually, she drew a blaster from next to her tea-tray, aimed, and placed a shot between the shambling zombie’s eyes. It crumpled together in the sand, and Ophidia halted again.
This feeling. The light!
Her eyes drew to the sky, in the direction of the capital. The sky warped in colour and texture, and tore with streaks of light contrary to Mirial’s natural display. She had flown stealth crafts for over a decade and walked under many shrouds; she knew how they looked from the outside. She knew the look of ships descending on a planet; this was an attack.
A sour mine washed over her face as she stood up from the garden chair.
“Darling! I need the coms up and working; I need Filiae!” As she spoke, Ophidia pocketed her blaster and picked up the tea tray, counting all the pieces and putting one she almost forgot back on the pile, then carrying it inside. “Barlan, finish up now!” She left the tray on a counter and rushed over to the communications desk, muttering a hundred curses under her breath.
“Darth Filiae, come in. Report promptly. Check the scans, and double check. I need data, now. Over.”
She sent the message as Darling came jogging past in his new boots and started flicking switches for the takeoff sequence.
“Darling, code: P.R.3.S. Get us into atmosphere. Helm to local South-East” The droid chirped in response. “Barlan, this may be your chance to serve the Emperor. Man the scanners and tell me what you see when you see it. Make your people proud.” The Mirialan nodded and went to work while Ophidia herself slipped into the copilot seat just in time for take-off.
The Phasma was airborne and turned skyward. Stealth systems engaged before entering the upper atmosphere.
"My Lord," Barlan spoke "The scanner is a mess. There are signatures all over the place, and strange, scrambled readings. I can't make sense of it, but I think-" "Yes." "But why? Why here?" The scanners beeped again, signalling an incoming transmission through secure channels: Filiae.
Location: Mirial – Capital City
Objective: Liberate Mirial from the Sith
Allies: SJO - [member="Kaiza Pawaro"], [member="Cardinam"], [member="Lara Fairfax"], [member="Kal Visna"], [member="Cassius Droma"], [member="Stephanie Swail"]
(Friendly) Opposition: [member="Jartris Entumaa"] [member="Aurelius Morday"]
On the ground…
Scattered throughout the crowded streets in the capital were members of the Mirialan Resistance. No longer willing to suffer the Sith on their world, they contacted those that might be able to assist their cause. The network of the Rebel Alliance stretched far and wide, connections had been made. And today, those connections would be put to good use. Moving about silently and swiftly, these men and women took to hiding within plain sight.
Caution was needed for more than one reason…
The watchful eyes of the Sith were on the prowl, and none wanted to be caught outside after the curfew dropped… even though they had been told it was for their own good. And now, the undead were roaming, too. The dangers were ever present, but they were well aware of the risks.
Aboard the frigate, Liuna continued to wait. She sat quietly with hands upon her knees; her legs remained still now that her nerves were settling. In her mind, she imagined what the streets of her home would look like freed of the Sith occupation. No doubt the bad memories would stay with them for quite a while; those kinds of things weren’t washed away easily. But that feeling of freedom would be well worth it.
Liuna lifted an eyebrow as the other Mirialan spoke, and she glanced back at the young woman.
“I am from Ciba,” She answered with a nod, “Not far from the capital.”
She had to admit that it was nice to meet another Mirialan. The weight of the situation was made less knowing that she was not the only one fighting. And her felt gratitude towards everyone present today, they were fighting for her cause as well – she would never forget that. She had to remind herself that she wasn’t here to make friends… but if she could, that wouldn’t be unwelcome. For a moment, she looked at Lara; they were on friendly terms so far. And if their mutual dislike of Jyn Erso meant anything, they would get along just fine.
Once more, thoughts were interrupted.
Their stealth frigate set down within the capital city limits. As she rose from her seat and took up her weapons, she recalled their plan aloud…
The ship stressed itself coming out of Otherspace, its massive monolithic form offering a perturbing sight to those who could sense the danger that came with it. As the otherdrive cooled in its reinforced bay, reactors sprang to life as the heartbeat of the beast lurched into full power. What came for those above Mirial wasn’t just a ship; but judgement.
Even if the ship itself didn’t know.
Capital guns rotated, heat vented, and sat idle as the captain of the vessel sat sideways in a luxury silk covered chair. Gold and elerium formed an elegant base, yet despite all the fancifulness that it held; there was nobody in the room to appreciate it, and The Slave hardly gave it the care such a decadent item deserved. Instead, he played a solo game of pazaak, letting the distant churn of engines fill his ears with white noise before being interrupted by the love sick AI that ran everything.
“Are you winning?”, it asked with a faint playfulness to its feminine voice.
“No, somehow, I’m not.”, The Slave said through a tired groan. He’d been on a binge for the past few days, enjoying the more primal effects the leviathan of space held.
The AI offered nothing more than a kind giggle while holding its own alternative motive. There was nothing more that it wanted than to push forward the hegemony the nameless acolyte carried; and today it intended to do just that. Bringing the massive ship around Sith Empire space not for its protection, but to enact some unknown strategy it held deep in its coding. A subterfuge attempt at the void, but one that would pay off; not by plan but by chance.
With sensors on full spectrum analysis, Cybele took the ship into another short range jump through Otherspace; yet another quiet jump into the unknown.
Today, Jedi would witness judgement; not from the ground, but from the sky. There stood an obsidian god, sword poised to enact punishment the likes of which had never seen. All it would take is the trumpet’s announcement, echoing through the vacuum of space.
Location: Illisurevimurasi Sector Objective: A Golden Spear Allies: Silver Jedi and Allies Enemies: [member="Adriago Duilius"], Sith Empire and Allies Equipment: In Signature
"But why now?" the question finally burst from Commander Bashir's amphibian lips, "Begging the Admiral's pardon. Its just...there is so much still to make right back home, between the First Order and their little cousins on Kamino...I just don't understand what's out here that could be so important."
Zark gazed out the ready room's viewport at the starlines of subspace, hands clasped together through their gauntlets and resting behind his back. The Mon Calamari sat in the seat across from the polished marble desk between them as he had been ordered, although in truth Bashir would prefer to stand beside his commanding officer much the same way he did on the bridge itself.
"I will tell you, because you deserve to know," the Alliance flag officer answered him at last, turning back to lock eyes with the other man before he continued, "What I am about to reveal to you is codeword clearance of the highest order, known only to the Triumvirate, the Strategic Intelligence Service, and a few within High Command. By even admitting we had this conversation, you and I both could be lined up and shot. Do you understand?"
"I do, sir," the polar Mon Cal nodded gravely.
"And you still want me to tell you?" Zark asked, and when his friend repeated the nod he exhaled at the weight of the moment, "Very well."
"Multiple Masters of the New Jedi Order in good standing have confirmed our peoples' greatest fear has come to pass. The Sith have reunified, and a new Dark Lord has risen in the east."
"Impossible!" Bashir gasped in shocked horror, "I thought after Coruscant we had stamped out the vermin for a century at least."
"Alas, the lost ones are a resilient lot. I know you have lost much to the One Sith, and the Ren," the Jedi Knight's stare was unwavering, but his expression shifted almost uncomfortably, "That we have lost much. However, what we are here to do is not an act of vengeance, but necessity. It may be difficult for you to understand, but the Sith are pitiful creatures, and the destruction they cause to those all around them is merely a tragic byproduct of their weakness. Too ignorant to conceive of an existence dedicated to the service of anything but the self, the Force senses this reckless arrogance and uses it as fuel to consume everything good inside, until only a shell remains."
"Their choices are their own," Bashir countered bitterly, "I pity them not. They are a rot upon the galaxy."
"In that, you are not wrong," the Vice Admiral admitted, turning back to gaze back out at the starlines, "And like a rot, they must be cleansed at the very source. That is why we we are here, Commander. That is why now."
"You mean to...you mean to attack them, sir?" the Mon Cal's eyes widened once more, "That is a violation of our strict rules of engagement."
"I mean to continue my patrol, Commander," Zark answered simply, "If there are Sith operating out here, organized and in the open, then they are enemies of the state. In such an eventuality, our course of action would seem clear, would it not?"
"Strictly speaking, sir," Bashir was forced to admit uneasily, "That is certainly one way to interpret the ROE."
"Aboard this ship, it is the only way," his eyes narrowed, "Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir," checking his chronometer in the uncomfortable silence that followed, Bashir ventured, "We'll be dropping back into realspace momentarily, I should be on the bridge."
"I'll join you," Zark gave the young Mon Cal a conciliatory smile as he fell into step beside him, "I think this is the closest the Force is going to take us, but perhaps it has something left to reveal."
The command deck proper of the Hereafter was bustling with activity. Eighteen hundred meters tall, the star carrier was like a small city, and its bridge was responsible for overseeing a staggering array of operations. There were no sunken pits like in classic Imperial designs, merely a vast central holoprojector unit with system stations spread out all around it in a utilitarian pattern. As one of the navigation officers counted down the reversion, the two of them relieved the ship's third officer and took their posts on either side of the holographic display.
Task Force Hereafter tore through the subspace veil, and in the narrow viewport at the front of the bridge their surroundings resolved into...empty space.
"Report."
"Sensors detect nothing in our immediate area, Admiral," the response came from a station to Zark's side, "We're in deep space, between star systems. We're....nowhere, sir."
Before Zark had a chance to admit he had no idea, another voice called out.
"Contact!" the junior officer reported, "Detecting mass hyperspace activity on long range scans, sir! Its tough to tell at this range, but we may also be picking up what looks like weapon discharges."
"Can you pinpoint the location?"
"A few dozen par secs out," came the response, "General vicinity of the Mirial system, sir."
"All ships, prepare to make the jump back into hyperspace," Zark commanded navigation.
"Are you absolutely certain this is the right course?" Bashir asked him again quietly, "We have no idea what we're jumping into."
"Isn't it exciting?"
But despite the bravado in front of his men, the Jedi Knight fought an internal battle of self control, as the unstable core of his saber's heart reacted violently to the course of action he had taken. Not so dark a choice to cause the alchemized core to explode within the hidden compartment in his prosthetic right forearm, it was nonetheless a quite painful reminder that his intentions in some ways ran counter to that of the Code.
Jedi never strike first. Jedi always give a chance to repent.
But Zark had placed duty before code a long time ago, and his was clear. A Sith Empire could not be allowed to return.
Task Force Hereafter - 5th Expeditionary
"Into the unknown."
6540 meters
Name: ANS Hereafter Class: Citadel-class Star Carrier Shield/Hull: 1800/1800
Armament: High Defence: High Speed: Average Manoeuvre: Low
Hangar: 5 CF10 Crossfire Squadrons, 4 D-Wing Squadrons, 1 A-Wing Squadron.
Actions: In Hyperspace, Approaching Mirial System.
Name: ANS Crusader Class: Scythe-class Heavy Cruiser Shield/Hull: 1000/1000
Armament: Average Defence: High Speed: Average Manoeuvre: Low
Hangar: 1 CF10 Crossfire Squadron, 1 D-Wing Squadron, 1 A-Wing Squadron.
Actions: In Hyperspace, Approaching Mirial System.
Name: ANS Gladiator Class: Scythe-class Heavy Cruiser Shield/Hull: 1000/1000
Armament: Average Defence: High Speed: Average Manoeuvre: Low
Hangar: 1 CF10 Crossfire Squadron, 1 D-Wing Squadron, 1 A-Wing Squadron.
Actions: In Hyperspace, Approaching Mirial System.
Name: ANS Mercy Class: Valor-class Carrier Shield/Hull: 980/980
Armament: Very Low Defence: Average Speed: High Manoeuvre: Moderate
Hangar: 3 Sprite X-Wing Squadrons, 2 D-Wing Squadrons, 2 A-Wing Squadrons.
Actions: In Hyperspace, Approaching Mirial System.
Name: ANS Absolution Class: Dreadnought-class Mark III Escort Cruiser Shield/Hull: 700/700
Armament: High Defence: Average Speed: Low Manoeuvre: Low
Hangar: Dropships.
Actions: In Hyperspace, Approaching Mirial System.
Name: ANS Ascendant Class: Dreadnought-class Mark III Escort Cruiser Shield/Hull: 700/700
Armament: High Defence: Average Speed: Low Manoeuvre: Low
Hangar: Dropships.
Actions: In Hyperspace, Approaching Mirial System.
Name: ANS Sluissi Dream Class: Essex-class Starfighter Killer Shield/Hull: 120/120
Armament: Moderate Defence: Average Speed: Moderate Manoeuvre: Average
Hangar: -
Actions: In Hyperspace, Approaching Mirial System.
Name: ANS Rivers of Arbra Class: Essex-class Starfighter Killer Shield/Hull: 120/120
Armament: Moderate Defence: Average Speed: Moderate Manoeuvre: Average
Hangar: -
Actions: In Hyperspace, Approaching Mirial System.
Name: ANS Remember Eriadu Class: Essex-class Starfighter Killer Shield/Hull: 120/120
Armament: Moderate Defence: Average Speed: Moderate Manoeuvre: Average
Hangar: -
Actions: In Hyperspace, Approaching Mirial System.
