Campaign Spark of Rebellion: Empire's Edge | TF vs DE

[Darth Imperius]

Prakith | Mining Guild Headquarters

• Objective: II. Embers of Revolution
  • Primary: Protect the Mining Guild; Eradicate the Rebels [Ruse]
  • Secondary: Evacuate important resources, machinery and data [Actual]
  • Tertiary: Destroy everything that could benefit the enemies cause
• Tags:
  • Allied: Saltare Dothon | Joseph Torson | Hevnor
  • Adversary: Orys Starwind [Direct] | Mother Askani | Xrabel Vaasketh
• Theme: Walk Carefully

The explosion was noted by nearby outlooks, the loss of contact to the gunship and to Inferno Squad reported moments late. The Skytroopers in and around the headquarters moved from alerted to battle stations as it seemed that threats were closer than anticipated. Usually in teams of three, they walked around the streets and across roofs, their jetpacks offering them quite a decent mobility. They were definitely not mere B1 units, their tactical understanding expanded to include advanced terrain analysis and squad tactics, especially effective when controlled by a Praetorian commander unit.

Though despite the switch of stance, none were sent to investigate the origin of the explosion, that urge was swiftly denied by their commander, who just happened to eye the Kubaz in front of him. His helmeted gaze glanced over the inside, red lenses staring with emotionless precision like a targeting laser before they found themselves back on the agent.

"Departures only after direct approval by myself. Make sure they all together when the time for their 'extraction' comes and that none of them falls into enemy hands." His voice thundered with deliberately slow pace. "The rebels are approaching, no doubt. Withdrawal paths are all leading onto the top of buildings for pickup, do not miss your ship."

His gaze moved to the door where the next staircase was behind. There was a notification on his HUD and he deemed it worthy to take of it. "What is your name?" The old Zakuulan offered as he looked once more to the Kubaz.

Meanwhile, a trio of Skytroopers had detected someone or something entering their patrol area and had relayed the intrusion, making their way to investigate the situation and potentially engage whatever may come. With some reinforcements on the way.

Equipment
| Lightsaber | Greatsword | Armor | Amulet | Shuttle |
Order of Battle
| Skytroopers | Knights Tenebrus |​

 

[Connel Vanagor]

Strike from the Shadows
Prakith
Black Spire

Objective 1: Operation: Black Spire​

Something is wrong…

He could not put his finger on it,

That meant that he was already found.

Now you see me, now you don’t. Committing to the “Force Cloak” and effectively moving to disappear off the Force’s radar(so to speak). Even if not all of those Dark Siders lost him, it would not change things. Connel was not stopping until either his mission was complete, or he was dead…

… and today was not a good day to die…

His mission, in his eyes, was not straightforward. Connel was not simply going to steal anything, or blow anything up. If he could? Great! However, his mission just changed to being the distraction for any others that were there. The Sith on the planet knew he was here, even if he disappeared, they would be smart enough to know he wasn’t trying to escape. They would know he was still moving on the Star Destroyer, and would still try to meet his objective. If they were smart, they would use their focus and resources to go after him…

… and take it away from anyone who they did not know about…

Thanks for that trick, Father.

He was at the Spire, and making his way inside. There was already opposition in the form of Stormtrooper patrols, completely expected, and as one passed by him (well hidden), he watched their methods. He watched and took mental notes. Their steps, their turns, when they checked in, any codewords they used. When the time was right, he took them down, hard. These troopers may be relegated to a patrol but they were not “cannon fodder” and did not go down without a fight. While Connel could respect that, it did not slow him down as he moved both bodies into a hiding place, stripping them of rifles, overloading their powercells and taking a comm-link.

When a “check in” was called, he knew what to say.

Time to move. Time to make them pay for what happened at Kashyykk for the slaughter of all of those souls, the destruction of the planet… everything…

Aela Keersu • @Rayne Lo’to • Captain Malthus • Onrai​

 

[Captain Love]

Attn: Hevnor | Darth Imperius

One of the stormtroopers a bit behind Hevnor , marked out from the rest by a captain’s orange pauldron, checked the sight calibration on his blaster carbine. After all those darknet media posts about stormtrooper aim he’d had unit running at the range non-stop until they could smell the stench of plasma exhaust in their sleep.

Underneath the helmet, his lips thinned at the sight of the Sith. They brought trouble with them, like mynocks on a four hundred year old freighter.

 

[Veythun]

Jerrilek

Now how exactly was a Celegian supposed to sneak into a facility? Wasn't as if he could just move his tank around and change its shape at will to sneak past things. And it wasn't exactly quick, either. Long and short of it? He couldn't. So he figured on letting the others do the sneaking part and he would do something entirely unhealthy and just straight up approach the front of the place without a care in the world, because, well, he didn't really have any cares aside from doing the right thing. That was the whole point, right?

This effort would at least give the others a sort of distraction to allow them to sneak into the facility. After all, it should be amusing, the idea of a Celegian approaching the gate and calling out the people inside, right? Just shoot his tank and pow, he's dead to the oxygen in the local atmosphere. Right?

/Hello in there,/ he called through the telepathic means. /I'd like to have a conversation with whomever is in charge of this Imperial facility about your unconditional surrender. If you could send them out, I would appreciate it./

That ought to wake people up. And he wasn't making it a targeted broadcast, so basically anyone in the vicinity would hear him unless they were doing something to block out the telepathy, or had some means of blocking it out, such as an implant. That would be unfortunate, because then he wouldn't have a means to communicate with them, and how, then was he to get them to surrender? It wasn't as if his species had mouths to issue verbal communication. What was he going to do? Tentacle sign language? That wasn't even a thing.

/Do make it quick, if you would. It took me a long time to get here so I'd like to start back soon./

---

TAGS: Darth Moskvin ​

 

[Detritus Ren]

Objective: 2
Location: Prakith, Mining Guild
Enemies: Mother Askani

Prakith. Detritus had found himself being stationed on Prakith in hopes of showing support to the Core systems that the Dark Empire kept firmly in their grasp for months, if not years. Still, he felt that not enough imperials were garrisoned to hold the core, just enough to maintain an occupation and see to it that some of the plunder reaches the Outer Rim. The zealot of a man found himself in office rooms, observation decks, and even on the work floor where the Master of Ren watched with impatience as he stared out at the beaten and downtrodden faces that kept the imperial war machine flowing.

Back and forth had Detritus had been, between the mining guild and the work of the Imperial ruling council, he almost missed being shot at. Today was simply an ordinary day, or perhaps it wasn’t. Among the banging of machinery, the occasional cry from a prisoner. Detritus looked onwards to the various shafts that led through the various mining tunnels. How he loathed to be stuck on guard duty. Him a council member forced to bring intimidation and fear to a bunch of rabble.

All of it seemed so mundane, until his senses perked up for the first time in a long time. The railing he stood by would shake, the tremor in the Force soon became a resounding alarm of a disturbance. The sounds of an explosion would run right through the shaft, but the sounds echoed through the various tunnels it was hard to focus. The stormtroopers next to Detritus ran off into various directions hoping to find the source of the chaotic boom.

Another boom would sound, this time it didn’t sound like an ordinary accident. Detritus looked frantically around the tunnels. Ren sensed various pretenses moving all around, mixed with that of the miners it felt like a hive of insects was scurrying all over the mining shafts. The brute force of a Ren stared out into the darkness, his eyes slightly closed as he reached out to find the source of the disturbance.

He heard the roar of people, the rattling of chains, blaster fire started to echo. Detritus turned behind him, his gaze zeroed in for the depths of the mining tunnel. His senses now turned chaotic, his fingers trailed cracked hilt of his lightsaber.

After weeks of overseeing the interests of the mining guild, a satisfied smirk would cross his lips. The Master of Ren would run headfirst into the darkness. His senses locking onto the source of the disturbance, little did he know that a riot was underway, if not worse… an uprising.

Detritus would pull his lightsaber from his belt, the hilt clenched tightly into his hand as he ran through the darkness. The sounds of chaos, booms, and blistered continually echoed from the depths, his bloodlust ever increasing as he finally emerged through the darkness of the tunnel. A single thought would continue to echo in his mind over and over as he grew closer to the source of the chaos.

‘This is where the real fun begins’

 

[Darth Kizash]

Enemies: OPEN
Location: Hidden fortress spire​

The delegation of duty and power. Well within how the Dark Empire operated. Little room for inefficacy and less for deliberate error. It was for this reason that I had been, well, contacted to say the least. In the past I tasked myself in training sith recruits and it worked well within and without. Till the Emperor faded into obscurity. What is a Sith Lord without an apprentice? A Master of Nothing.

Black and red Zeyd cloth robes shifted in their place. Kizash stood at his full height observing the methodical order of stormtrooper patrols and officers going about their strict orders within the fortress spire. Despite the stark contrast of red and black robes, a scarred bare chest, black combat trousers and military armor boots, Kizash did little to disrupt the environment around him. He was tasked to be here for a reason and yet that reason was no consequence to him. Nor was the now remnants of the Dark Empire.

Fingers tapped rhythmically against the metal alloy of a cylinder like shaft. The tool or weapon hung loosely from a clip on his utility belt. It was a lightsaber, but it did not belong to him. Neither of the lightsabers did and yet they had been used and bent by his will. His mind lulled him back to a specific day, no, a memory that called out to him. I closed my eyes and edged on the pull into the memory itself. And as I did I gripped the lightsaber tighter just to savor the metaphysical scene.

The memory was interrupted by a slight disturbance. So subtle that Kizash doubted himself. Doubted his senses. It was probably the crystals in the lightsaber. Signatures of their past owner Connel Vanagor . Aka, Junior. What Darth Kizash did not know was that the young Vanagor was indeed closer than he knew and the trophies on his belt were a direct line to find him.

Or maybe that was the plan from the start. Who knows.

 

[Daraho Arvyd]

VIXEN
KEEP ATMO CLEAN | PRAKITH
ALLIES: Zyra (and Prowler) | Mother Askani | Jared Starchaser | TF
ENEMIES: DE
ENGAGING: Van Trask
GEAR: In bio

SEVENTEEN​

Bravo Flight, Danger Squadron, Amber Fighter Wing Five: NPC for this thread Six: F/L Daraho Arvyd Seven: NPC for this thread Eight: F/O Zyra Dark Empire F/L Van Trask Spoiler: Actions -Flight Banter -Strafed AA-weapon emplacements -Noticed more TIEs incoming and ordered Finger Four Formation as well as armaments readied

The entire operation had been carefully orchestrated.

Apparently after months of covert work, an attack was finally launched against the Empire. Where once, Dara had been part of strike forces launched against their presence in the Core by the Alliance, they delivered no results and the attacks started to wane - instead contracting mercenaries and private militaries to do the work that the Defence Force was meant to do. The Empire was still here and they still subjected people to arduous labour or worse.

Now the Foundation seemed to strike far more strategically, hitting the Empire where it hurts.

Not that the Empire held back.

In order to keep those on the ground as safe as possible to accomplish their goal, Starfighters were launched to try and keep the skies clean as well as lend air support where needed. Danger Squadron's Bravo Flight was one such task force deployed in order to maintain air superiority.
<You think there's some worthy bandits among this rabble that we can flex our spanking new rotaries on, Clip?> Dara quipped at one of her flight mates as she obliterated another Eyeball.

They did a strafe-run on some of the AA-emplacements and circling back into patrol. It was after they regained altitude once more when Dara's sensors started showing enemy blips moving into range.
<Look alive, Dangers. We have some bandits moving in again. Form up on Finger Four. Send those Eyeballs to hell in a handbasket.> came Dara's order. <Clip, stick to my four.>

With that, they all readied for an air-superiority fight.

 

[Captain Malthus]

BELLUM CONTRA OMNES
[ Theme ]​

Captain Malthus

| Location | Fortress, Kampe​

| Purpose | Unknown​

​

Malthus holstered his sidearm after the rest of the Imperials in the room had been swiftly disposed of. The Dragoons moved in to take the place of the deceased stormtroopers as they established their own perimeter to the vault, hefting their rifles as Malthus moved over to the security terminal. He reached down as he plucked the dead officer's code cylinder from their uniform, turning it over in his hand before looking over at the terminal.​

​

It didn't take long for the captain to figure out where it was meant to go as a shadowy wisp appeared next to his head. Hushed and indiscernable, a warped voice spoke like a dark conscious into his ear, the captain listening with rapt attention, concluded with a brief nod of acknowledgement as the terminal warbled after accepting the code cylinder. The vault began to cycle through its unlocking procedures as the alarms began to blare, signalling an intrusion that had neglected proper authorization procedures.​

​

Malthus stepped in front of the entrance to the fortress data banks, waiting in silence while the others stood guard. Stormtroopers would be signalled to make their way to the data vault and dispatched to investigate. In the meantime, Malthus and his men would hold their position till the vault had opened, and if they were remotely interrupted, they would simply have to cut their way in.​

Aela Keersu | Rayne Lo'to

​

 

[Mother Askani]

PRAKITH | OBJ 2. EMBERS OF REVOLUTION | FOUNDATION
Engaging: Detritus Ren

​

The embers of rebellion had begun to settle over the mines of Prakith. Encouraging the locals to fight for themselves, to fight for what's right was their way. The air was thick with dust, the scent of burned-out fuel still lingering from the days and days of labor. Normally, the Imperial Mining Guild's refineries would hum through the day and night, the clang of metal against stone echoing through the valley as the workers toiled under the watchful eye of Imperial enforcers. But this was different; the air was charged with something else. Something dangerous.

From the upper levels of the mining complex, a shift supervisor paced along a catwalk, scanning the dimly lit tunnels below. The miners were restless--he could feel it. The silence was unnatural. No idle chatter. No grumbling. Just quiet, coiled like a spring ready to snap.

Then, the first explosion ripped through the eastern refinery.

A shockwave of fire and smoke burst through the facility, sending Imperial officers staggering. A klaxon blared across the compound as the guards scrambled for their weapons. From the darkened tunnels, the miners surged forward.

Pickaxes, stolen blasters, and makeshift explosives in hand, they fell upon their overseers with a fury long overdue. Those who had spent years being beaten and broken now turned their chains into weapons. Cargo loaders were hijacked and turned into battering rams, smashing through supply depots and barricades. Conveyor belts meant to transport raw ore now carried stolen weapons and supplies to rebel lines.

An Imperial enforcer raised his blaster--but before he could fire, a shovel cracked against his helmet, sending him sprawling into the dirt. The miners swarmed him, ripping the rifle from his grasp and disappearing into the chaos.

Across the compound, a squad of Imperials tried to organize a counteroffensive. One of them raised a comlink to his lips, desperate to call for reinforcements. But before he could speak, a bolt struck home, punching through his chest. The source--Askani lowered her pistol, scanning for her next target. "Keep going!" she encouraged, entrenched in the crowd, waving them forward.

The prison barracks erupted as the doors were blown open, and the miners who had been too weak to work, the ones deemed unfit for labor and left to rot, stumbled into the night. Some fell to their knees, sobbing in the dirt--until the rebels pulled them to their feet and pressed weapons into their hands.

"You're free," one of the Foundation soldiers said. "But it's not over. Not yet."

From the heart of the mining district, a siren wailed--a signal meant to break the spirit of rebellion. But instead of fear, it was met with a roar from the miners. Their voices thundered through the canyons, their battle cries echoing across the compound.

Behind her, a Foundation lieutenant stepped forward. "Orders?"

Askani turned to him, her voice calm but unshakable. "The Guild leaders are still inside the control tower. We take it. We take them. Tonight, their hold breaks. Don't waste your time with attrition, we know their security is low, their higher ups will prioritize grabbing what they can and going for higher ground." she nodded. "And Keep them covered." She pointed, scanning several miners as they roared forward.

She had seen many battles. "Go." she ordered. She stood back as the rebels charged the mining district, ensuring them covered.

-----

"What have I sacrificed? Everything..."
​

 

[Saltare Dothon]

​

Saltare was a veteran Commando; he knew what he was doing, and his accurate fire showed this. Rounds impacted the individual running down the mountain towards him but seemed to have little effect. Saltare could tell by the individual's body movements the shots had inflicted some injury but nothing substantial.

As he continued to lay down accurate fire, he got a good look at the individual as he closed the distance: a Mandalorian. Or one pretending to be one. This one would have an arsenal of weapons, and his armor would be hard to penetrate. If this individual was anything like most Mandalorians, he would have some vain notion of combat, attempting to engage Saltare in personal combat to best him as a personal triumph.

Saltare had no time for such games; he advanced. The distance closed quickly, and Saltare sent a comm to his units, "Let him engage me then flank him!"

As Saltare closed the distance, the Mandalorian let loose with one of his undoubtedly many weapons. Small objects shot toward several of his troopers and impacted them with large explosions, killing them outright, throwing them to the ground, or taking them out of the fight. Saltare advanced from the shadow of the HAAGx, which was the only thing that allowed him to keep standing as the area he was just occupying exploded from multiple rifle grenades, sending his few remaining troopers diving for cover or injured.

The next second, Saltare took accurate kinetic rounds, impacting his chest plate and forcing him to roll to the side abruptly, ending his forward advance. The rounds followed him, continuing to strike him in the chest and lower extremities. His armor absorbed the damage, but his balance was off, and he was on the back foot.

Saltare primed a thermal detonator for quick detonation and tossed it into the onrushing Mandalorian, hoping to kill him if lucky or stop his forward advance and give Saltare time to recover.

ALLIES: Darth Imperius Joseph Torson Hevnor
ENEMIES: Drego Ruus

 

[Balun Dashiell]

Location: Jerrilek.
Objective: Infiltrate the Imperial Supply Depot.
Wearing: Imitation Imperial Uniform.
Weapons: Lightsaber (Hidden) & K-16 Bryar Pistol (Holstered)
Allies: Trent Perris .

"Why are you not present at your station? Does this issue need to be escalated in order for you to remain attentive to your duty station?"

"No sir. I was just returning to my station, sir."

"Alright alright. Stow it for now. Comm silence until we get ready to burn out. The Force be with you, and stay frosty."​

Balun Dashiell kept to the rear of the group, his measured steps falling in line behind the other three as Trent Perris led the operation. This was Balun's first mission as an official ranking member of the Foundation, and for a debut, it was an especially delicate one—covert, high-risk, and requiring meticulous planning in the days leading up to it. Every detail had been accounted for, from intelligence gathering to securing the uniforms they now wore. Dressed in Imperial attire, they blended seamlessly into their surroundings, indistinguishable from the officers and troopers they passed in the stark corridors.

The tension was suffocating. The uniform itself was stiff and restrictive, but the true weight pressing down on Balun came from what it represented. Too many of his former comrades in the Tingel Arm Coalition had fallen at the hands of the Empire of the Lost. Now, he found himself draped in the colors of a similar regime, playing the part of an enemy he had spent years fighting. His face betrayed nothing—his expression a carefully maintained mask of discipline—but inwardly, he itched to rid himself of the disguise and return to the comfort of his own clothes.

As planned, the other two operatives broke away, veering off toward their designated routes. Balun stepped up beside Trent, his grip firm around his datapad as he brought up the surface resort's infrastructure map. He stole a quick glance at their surroundings, ensuring no prying ears lingered nearby, then turned to Trent. With a steady nod, he silently confirmed his readiness, waiting for the signal to proceed.

 

[Xrabel Vaasketh]

|| EMPIRE’S EDGE ||
Dust in the Wind - Chapter 1

EQUIPMENTS:

Spoiler

Modified Galactic Alliance Special Forces Gear

Spoiler

Blaster Carbine
Blaster Pistol
Military Knife
Smoke Bombs
Thermal Bomb

TASK-FORCE THUNDERBOLT: Prowler, Jackal, Romulus, Elrod, Guinea, Rosé, Blackspire, Xeno, Ymir, Kobel, Tech, Spectre
OBJECTIVES: Capture Imperial Mining Guild Leaders. Alive
PROXIMITY - ALLIES: Orys Starwind
PROXIMITY - ENEMIES: Darth Imperius | Hevnor

Spoiler: THEME

PRAKITH

<Prowler this is Remo reporting from the frontline. The rebels are storming the facility, walkers are approaching, mortars are being shot, Jedi are making the move. I repeat. The frontline is fully engaged. Over.>

It’s time, then…

<Remo, appreciate the heads up, we are engaging, expecting three to eight live assets, tell the evac team to be ready for extraction.>

Prowler turned to his squad mates, signalling with hand slightly raised and words over the comms device.

<Okay, my brothers and sisters, we are here today for one reason only. Extract the targets, avoid engagement, kill if must. TECH! Get the bomb ready!>

<On it! In 5…>

This is it…

<4…>

The only prize of war; spoils…

<3…>

One winner, billion losers, all fighting for the same prize…

<2…>

I am a winner. I must will…

<1…>

I will win, forever, always, until I breathe my last breath…

BOOM! The floor on one of the facilities’ toilets collapsed and from there emerged 12 armored men, fully armed, making their way towards the main office.

<Godspeed.>

The squad of 12 strides the hallways like it’s their home, swiftly, taking all the right corners and cuts. Alarms are blaring, hiding their footsteps, hiding the enemies’ all the same.

<hold… a small squad crossing on that junction…>

The squad stops to let the footsteps pass. But the threat they assessed in front wasn’t the one threatening their advances the most, yet a panicking supervisor running with no destination just feet away from their behind. These bystanders are lowkey the most dangerous. They are unreasonable, unpredictable, and operate purely on survival instincts. The squad can’t afford to make a juvenile mistake.

PUFF. A whistling sound of a silenced slug shot flew through the hallway as the single bullet struck the supervisor right on his skull.

<Nice one Jax,>

The first blood had been spilled, an unfortunate cost of war. A necessary death, mere statistics. Then Prowler heard the sound of a stronger and faster footsteps, and lightsaber igniting miles away in front. Jedi, Sith, doesn’t matter, all will hold Thunderbolt for quickly completing their mission.

<Pivot! Take the left before!>

<Aye!>​

 

[Orys Starwind]

​

Objective 2: Embers of Revolution
Prakith | Imperial Mining Guild
Objective: Storm the Guild, capture Chairman Okono Dukkha and any persons of interest
Items: Convertible bo-staff/wa-shen, light-bow
Engaging: Darth Imperius
Allies: Xrabel Vaasketh

#NowPlaying

---------------------

Orys, as he leapt through the valleys of Prakith, was admittedly...absentminded. That is to say, he was focused on adventure, excitement, the fight- unJedi things, and decidedly unMakutai. It was short-sighted, unbalanced.

Which is probably why not only one, not two, but three Skytroopers were able to strike Starwind in rapid succession at the zenith of his jump, with the third spearing him into the ground at an astonishingly alarming rate. Orys blinked blearily from where he had been unceremoniously deposited in, watching the three Skytroopers landing gracefully, keeping their blasters trained on the stunned Korun.

Orys propped himself up with an arm. He got a boot to the face for his trouble. "Target neutralized", the lead droid intoned in a monotone voice. "The organic is remarkably durable", another said, peering at the prostrate Orys, who attempted to right himself again. Wordlessly, the lead skytrooper raised his rifle to make sure the mysterious figured stayed down.

Quick as a flash, Orys rolled away, leveling his bo-staff at the trio. The lead was nonplussed. "Primitive." It fired at Makutai. Orys- wielding a force-imbued bo-staff/was-hsen- batted the bolt back the droid, sending it toppling over head over heels, plunging off a cliff.

"He didn't give me a choice", Orys said, breaking his silence as motioned to the cliff their fellow had fallen over. "But you can. Let me pass."

They looked him.

Looked at each other.

Looked at Orys.

And blasted off into the air, intending to pepper Orys's general area with blaster-fire. Orys, seeing his opponents fleeing, leapt after them, catching a startled Skytrooper, sending him a chaotic flightpath.

"GET HIM OFF ME! BY PALPATINE'S BLACK BONES GET HIM OFF ME!"

His fellow started firing at him and his unwanted passenger.

"NOT LIKE THAT YOU ORGANIC FIL...WAIT, DON'T TOUCH. DONT TOUCH THAT YOU-"

And with a push of a button, Orys sent both of them careening towards the Guild Headquarters at an alarming rate, with Skytrooper's panicked transmission filling the Imperial comms.

 

[Sid Berik]

​

Allies: Saltare Dothon l Joseph Torson l Hevnor
Enemies: Drego Ruus

​

Commando.

Sid Berik- Corporal, Sid Berik, was now an Imperial Elite. A Commando. A real pipe-hitter. The attack was quick, well-executed, and well-thought out. Unfortunately for them- they were facing the Imperial Elite.

Sid had been placed for his new assignment under the command of Saltare Dothon, a senior Stormtrooper and Senior Commando. Sid racked the shotgun in his hands, electing for a more brutal form of combat. His new jet-black armor carried him to safety, the rounds being fired from the Mandalorian impacting his team leader- who didn't seem to let it bother him.

Sid grimaced under his helmet, knowing how much that would hurt. He nodded, affirming the order verbally with a "Moving!" shout, going to do just that- engage the Mandalorian on his flank. Mandalorian or not, Beskar didn't protect everywhere, and a shotgun was unpleasant to come up against. He was moving to be on the Mandalorian's flank, hoping to catch him in a deadly L-shaped ambush- and rather impossible to defend against. Sid moved fast and low, keeping from cover to cover while the Mandalorian had to deal with his Team leader.

 

[Torn Eskol]

I AM BUILT ON LIES. I AM NO ONE AND I AM EVERYONE
​

SIA SPECDIV
AGENT ESKOL

​

Jayce was quick to get what he needed from the Officer. Fingerprints, an eyeball- a bit of blood and spit for any other biometric securities. It was gruesome and cruel, but necessary. He neatly zipped up the bodybag, and changed into his uniform. Well, his new uniform. Part of the reason that this particular Officer was chosen was that they shared the same pants size and shirt size. Jayce had been studying for weeks the Imperial Regulations and Appearance orders. He knew what medals he had. He knew where they were supposed to be. He knew how to shave properly, and even down to how long an Imperial Officer's shoelaces could be.

He gathered his equipment into an Imperial Luggage bag, exited the room at the resort, and made his way back. The Imperial Officer was due back from his leave tomorrow- but what career achieving Officer wouldn't go back a day early to report on time? After that, it was an easy gig. Natural, really. He wasn't hiding or lying. He really did become someone else. Getting into the Imperial Complex would be easy, making his way close to his target, well.

That wouldn't be.

He stared out the window to his vehicle, watching the resort world pass him by. He wished he came here a few days ago, perhaps got to enjoy the scenery a bit more. Perhaps. But that wasn't the case, no. No, Jayce would have to contend with being here for a bit, and on a mission. In and out. He'd killed plenty of important targets before. Sith Lords, Imperial Officers, Alliance Officers off their mark. People who needed to be removed, it wasn't the GADF that was called. It wasn't an idiot in a tank or a walker, it wasn't a Jedi strike team with their poems, mantras and flowing bathrobes.

No, it was men like Jayce. Thin razors thrust into the necks of the galaxy's worst.

He arrived at the Imperial Complex, his gear stowed in the Officer's bag. A guard approached him, asking for identification politely. Officer or not, he was still subject to the rules. His accent was perfect. Not a trace of who he was before. Posh, eloquent. Respectable. But with a sneering Imperialist attitude of authority. His identification, false as it was- was accepted by the Guard. Not that the Stormtroopers there were bad at what they did, stupid, or incompetent. It was just that men like Jayce knew how to get around. He was even welcomed back from leave.

He was in the complex now, heading to 'his' office. The hustle and bustle of the Complex was growing more and more, the Foundation must've unnerved them. But he kept moving forward, his head down and his mind laser-focused on the task at hand. Assassinations and missions like these were not terribly difficult to plan, just difficult to execute. It required a great deal of patience, a great deal of planning, forethought, and razor-thin margins of error that you had to be able to mitigate. Fortunately for Jayce, he was in a position to be on the correct side of all of that. For the time being. Things could change in a moment, an instance really.

But for now, the snake was in the garden. And heading for Marlon Sularen .

 

[Cortana Jade]

​

OBJ 1 | STRADE'S FORTRESS | KAMPE | Rik Perris

The wind howled through the canyon, sending spirals of dust curling through the air, crackling in the currents. Just a story or two above them, nestled into the jagged cliffside, the shape of the Fortress loomed like an iron monolith. The fortress, built into the rock itself, served as the nerve center of Kampe's operation—a hidden facility constructing, what intel said, was a Super Star Destroyer of some kind, a war machine capable of turning the tide of conflicts to come.

That meant a few things, and that voice echoing in her mind, rising from somewhere deep, a voice that was alien but had undercurrents of her own voice laced underneath, told her this was where she needed to be; it beckoned her forth. It was a directive she couldn't ignore.

Their small strike team set down in the canyon, and would move to sneak into the facility and then get to the drydocks via an unmarked maintenance shaft; A forgotten relic of the base's construction, its presence wasn't on any patrol routes. But the crisscrossed arches at the end of the landing platform that they'd have to wander through were. There wasn't much traffic coming in and out though, so what Imperial engineers, droids, and patrol squads happened upon them would be manageable, especially when infiltration was befell them from all sides.

Blaster fire flickered in the distance—other teams were making contact.

She hit a beeline for the platform’s edge, cutting underneath the wing of the ship and propping up on a rocky outcrop. She snatched her macrobinoculars and watched; she wanted to scope out the distance between them and their way in. She didn't see much activity in her quick scan, but she did see Blast doors on a strip above them -- they'd obviously have to follow the path up.

"The fighting could be drawing them in, but I've seen the entrance." she lowered the visors and pointed.

 

[Zyra]

|| EMPIRE’S EDGE ||
Edge of Tomorrow - Chapter 1

RIDE: Headhunter II-Class Starfighter
OBJECTIVES: Maintain Air Superiority
ALLIES: Daraho Arvyd
ENEMIES: Van Trask

Spoiler: Theme

PRAKITH

Finally… The freedom that the open space and a starfighter can gives is incomparable to anything in this world. Zyra has been waiting for this moment since forever. Ever since she was recruited as a pilot in The Foundation, all she ever did was flying patrols, occasionally chasing slavers and raiding Imperial cargo.

It was a boring period of her life, going from a freelance slicer and smuggler, with all the excitement that comes with breaking the law, giving trouble to everyone from the Galactic Alliance Sector Rangers to the Confederacy Law Enforcement. Yet it helps her taking the next step in her life; she was assigned as one of the pilots flying in the Danger Squadron. And now is her first serious job, assaulting the Empire’s Deep Core stronghold.

<There’s always more surfacing from the gutter, eh, those rats?> The young Flight Officer responded to the Flight Lieutenant’s quip as she shots down a TIE Fighter. Even though she’s relatively new to the Foundation, she has disdain for those fighters since forever. For the longest time, those engine sound was what oppression sounds like. To get the galaxy rid of those wretched machines is an honor for Zyra.

Just as she predicted, another squadron of TIE emerged, contesting their air superiority. Told ya’. This is a good chance for Cyra to showcase her ability. <Right behind ya’!> She responded to the Lieutenant’s order as she maintained speed on her four, trailing slightly behind her, checking her HUD to know exactly the location of the TIEs.

<Fangs out, baby,> she said to herself after everything’s ready for engagement.​

 

[Joseph Torson]

E M P I R E'S_E D G E
Objective II : Embers of Revolution

DARK EMPIRE
PRAKITH, DEEP CORE

Spoiler: Gear

• Plasma Disruptor Rifle [1]
• NK01 Fujita Rail Pistols [2]
• Tenebrae Commando Armor Mk. II [w/ Jetpack + Flight Attachment]
• Jūryoku 12 Repulsor Grenades [2]
• Konīde 10 Plasma Detonators [2]

Spoiler: Accompanying Forces

• Team Aurek | Red Right Hand Operatives [6/15]

As Torson inquired on the status of Dothon and his Team, he received a simple response from the other end of the call.

"Engaging,"

With confirmation that Dothon was still alive and was currently engaging the target, Torson had a choice. He could either take his remaining men and continue the mission without Dothon which would save them time and allow them to extract the Chairman before the rebels could reach him, or he could try to blast his way out of the now-sealed secret entrance and help his Imperial comrades against whatever foes were attacking.

For a few seconds Torson hesitated, torn on whether he should continue the mission or save his Imperial brothers-in-arms. "Captain, what is our course of action" one of the Operatives asked. Torson looked at his men, who looked back at him for an answer before looking at the sealed entrance. He knew what he had to do, not only for the sake of the mission but the sake of the Empire. "We're going back to help the rest of the team." Torson said. "What about the mission sir?" another of the Operatives said, questioning Torson's decision. "The mission can wait, right now we need to help the others against whatever hostiles they're facing."

Torson proceeded to walk towards the sealed entrance and tried to see if he could move the massive boulders blocking the entrance to no avail. He then looked down at his hips noticing the grenades strapped to his armor belt and came to a realization. If the other Operatives with him were carrying a similar amount of explosives they could potentially blast through the debris blocking the entrance. Stepping back to face his men, Torson proceeded to address them. "Alright. Here is what i need you all to do." Torson then took out one of his grenades and placed it at the center of the mass of the debris covering the entrance. "We're going to place explosives right around here" Torson said pointing to the center of the mass of debris. "If we're lucky enough we'll have enough firepower to blast through the debris and provide aid to the rest of the team. Now let's get to work." Torson commanded.

As such, Torson and his squad began placing a bunch of Repulsor and Plasma Grenades around the designated area, before retreating far into the secret entrance beyond the potential range of the explosion and the massive shockwave that would ensue. Upon covering the required distance from the blocked entrance, Torson took out his Plasma Disruptor Rifle and aimed it carefully towards the collection of Repulsors and Plasma Grenades before firing a single supercharged shot that incinerated the grenades, causing a massive explosion and shockwave that sent debris flying everywhere throughout the battle.

When the dust settled, Torson and his men approached the entrance which was no-longer blocked by debris as sunlight pierced through the entrance once more. As Torson and his men stood at the entrance they now had a full view of the ongoing battle with Torson soon contacting Dothon and Berik through the comms. "This is Torson, the entrance is clear." he announced. He then looked at the remaining group of Red Right Hand and further addressed them. "Cover me." he ordered before cooling down his Plasma Disruptor Rifle and proceeding to charge into the field ready to confront the enemy and support his Comrades.

[Friendlies] | Saltare Dothon | Sid Berik
[Hostiles] | Drego Ruus
​

 

[Drego Ruus]

Location: Prakith Mountainside
Equipment: See Bio
Engaging: Joseph Torson Saltare Dothon
​

Saltare primed a thermal detonator for quick detonation and tossed it into the onrushing Mandalorian, hoping to kill him if lucky or stop his forward advance and give Saltare time to recover.

Drego didn't have much time to think. Grenades were nasty business, and could do some actual damage if they had to chance.

He wouldn't give them that. Raising his left arm, he fired the short range disruptor pistol from his vambrace, annihilating the grenade mid-air, before bringing his hand back down and sheathing his rifle on his back, switching to his prized shotty. If he was gonna get in close, he'd need it.

Plus, it gave him one more option. The stormtrooper thought he could hide, but he couldn't.

Then the explosion of the cave revealed a new target. A priority target.

With a sudden shift of his shotgun, Drego didn't waste a moment letting loose the grenade that would've been aimed at Saltare. The underbarrel launcher let out a bloop! as it fired the 40 mm HE shell towards Joseph, before Drego leapt into the air towards his original target, and opened fire with depleted baradium shot. 5 slam-fired shells in quick sucession, as Drego came down right on top of Saltare.

 

[Trent Perris]

Full Copycat Uniform with Baffleweave Hidden Pockets
Blackout Baton Hidden
Wristcomp | Wristband
Hidden Tools
Descrambler | Scomp-Spiker | Secure Comlink​

The small group had traveled far enough now to be at a muster point. Blending in with the crowds before the officers at the installation began to filter down to their designated locations. Looking at the time in the corner of the datapad provided by one of the newer faces to join the Foundation.

A glance to the man beside him as he assessed the mood.

Grim, but determined. If seeming a bit out of sorts with the uniform. An unpleasant part of performing such an operation. Dressing as the enemy never sat well with most. Anymore it was just part of a routine when it came to recon and subterfuge. A facade one had to grow accustomed to with alarming speed or be found out.

"The local incompetence is to please the Lord Regent no doubt. Detaining transfers to be questioned about that bar fight." Filling the air with disdain as if they'd already been talking about the most recent incident. As much as confirming their cooperative story with a glance to the younger man. "Despicable."

Shaking his head as he examined the datapad with lackluster interest. Confirming once more their own route of entry to give the others time to work their own brand of magic. The timetable nearly perfect as he nodded.

"We'll be late for our transfer confirmation no doubt because of their incompetence. What was it you said your skill set was?" Tapping on the schematic to highlight a service corridor as he turned on his heel to begin walking.

Passing by local security with a glower as they made for an elevator.

Balun Dashiell
Gear on The Harpy
Outfit -Jacket | Huckleberry Belt | Boots
Concealed Blaster | Blaster Pistol | Voxyn Rifle - Lodestone Devices
Rifleman Gear
Speeder Bike​