Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Public Spark of Resistance | Dire Hour 2


TAG: Veino Garn Veino Garn Pyeth Raffinki Pyeth Raffinki
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Corbin Vasher had taken an important trip to Kestri when the initial raid on Dorin had taken place. It had primarily been to free a young Jedi that had been held prisoner, but had turned into so much more. A good portion of that had been thanks to his Saarai-kar, Veino Garn Veino Garn , who had made sure to invite Corbin on this impromptu assault. Corbin was quite satisfied to see the man was sporting the tactical poncho he had designed for the League Defense Force.
Corbin was inspecting where Veino Garn had spraypainted:
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It had given Corbin an idea. "Saarai-kar, mind if I borrow that paint?" Veino Garn silently tossed the paint to him. He proceeded to spray his own message on the wall:
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He heard the Saarai-kar call out as he finished his message.
"On my mark..."
There was something Corbin wanted to try out if he got the opportunity, something he'd never actually had a chance to outside practice sessions.

The other Jensaarai was preparing to let loose with Ballistakinetic-propelled grenades.
Explosions would soon ensue.


 
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Dorin, Central Spaceport
Equipment: "Armor", Lightsaber, Rebreather, Slicer Kit, EMP Grenades
Allies: Jasper Kai'el Jasper Kai'el Iris Arani Iris Arani Zak Dymo Veino Garn Veino Garn Corbin Vasher Corbin Vasher
Opposition: FN-999 Karkosuchus Hall Mannarra Hall Mannarra
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There was a child aboard the ship.

The ship currently landed in an active warzone.

The ship that was apparently surrounded by roughly a legion's worth of stormtroopers.

Nyla took a deep breath.

Okay.

This was fine. This was fine. Nyla had been in plenty of dangerous places throughout her time as a Padawan. And if you ignored the occasional night terrors and traumatic stress disorders, she had turned out fine.

Silently, the Padawan stepped past Iris, Jasper, and Zak, plucking a simple rebreather and a cluster of O2 canister from one of Jasper's supply crates. She let the device hang around her neck for the moment, and carefully placed the spare canisters within the empty pouches on her utility belt. A trio of those EMP grenades the child had been hiding among floated lazily towards her, and she stashed those along her belt as well. A quick double-check to make sure everything was accessible, and then she turned on her heels to face her three companions.

[ATTENTION, REBEL FORCES! YOUR TIME IS UP. TEN THOUSAND ENTRENCHED STORMTROOPERS SURROUND YOU ON ALL SIDES, AND ANTI-AIR DEFENSES ARE SET UP TO SHOOT DOWN ANY REINFORCEMENTS. SURRENDER NOW, AND YOU WILL BE SPARED. REFUSE, AND WE WILL NOT HESITATE TO BREACH THE SPACEPORT AND KILL EVERY REBEL INSIDE. YOU HAVE TWO MINUTES TO RESPOND.]

The Imperial's amplified voice rumbled through the spaceport, reaching the ears of the quartet within the Lonestar 1 as less of a loud, rumbling ultimatum and more of a muffled threat. Nyla sighed, gently, doing what would have been an admirable job of hiding her creeping anxiety had she not been in a room full of Force Sensitives. Her gaze flickered over the young Nautolan. You should have noticed him. You failed again, and now this one will die, too.

Inhale. Count to four. Exhale.

There is no emotion. There is peace.
The Padawan took another deep breath, then brought the respirator hanging about her neck up to her face.

"I suppose this is why they sent us with a battle meditator. Miss Arani, do you think you can prepare the rebels before the Empire breaches the port?"
 
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"TL-759?" Brackard didn't make eye contact with the young man sitting across from him.

"Correct."

Brackard kept his eyes on the datapad on the table between them. The stormtrooper was sat a few feet back from the table so that he couldn't rest his arms on it.

The trooper had been left wearing the black underglove suit that was typically worn underneath armor. He hadn't been permitted to wear any insignia of rank. Brackard wanted the man feeling alone, exposed and powerless during the interview.

He finally made eye contact.

"You remember processing this deviant before they were admitted?" Brackard asked. A low rumble of thunder followed. The storms had picked up. Communications were erratic. He would have preferred silence to follow his question.

People often filled a silence with words. They were often too honest in those moments, desperate not to leave a void in the conversation.

Brackard turned around an image of Nida Perl Nida Perl

"Yes. I did," replied the trooper.

They both remained ignorant of events unfolding across the planet.
 

BB-4001A

Guest
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It never failed. He was maybe two seconds away from a new high score in Endormon Let's Go when an adult decided now was the time to be adult-like.

"Hey!" Zak protested, dropping the Switch as his hands sprang up to the sides of his head as the headphones were yanked away. Not only did he now not have tunes but there was the distinct sound of his sprite dying as the Switch landed in his lap.

Now he was gonna have to start all over at the Bespin gym. Again.

He was caught. Now he needed something to try and deflect with. Jasper. Smuggling. Probably a space pirate. He could work with this.

"I'm not the ones, like... smugglin' weapons or whatever you're doing," the boy snapped back, leveling an accusatory finger toward the Cyborg-Arm Pirate. That was probably even his space pirate name! The dread pirate Cyborg-Arm!

Setting the Switch aside a moment, the boy stood up and then jumped up into the air to try and grab the headphones that were hovering in mid-air. "I'm here to bring you..." the boy began, missing the grab and landing back on the deck. "...evil-doers to... " he continued, hopping back up into the air and missing again. "...justice before the..." landing back on the deck, the boy sprang upward a third time, "...the, like, Council or whatever!"

A fourth jump and the boy's hands latched on to the floating headphones.

"HA!" the boy declared triumphantly.

Then dangled in the air, squirming as he tried to free the headphones from the invisible force holding them in mid-air.

"Wait... Empire? What Empire?" the Nautolan uttered, sagging as he just dead-hung from the headphones and looked over at the random broad there with Iris and the Dread Pirate Cyborg-Arm.

Giving Dread Pirate Cyborg-Arm the side eye, the boy asked, "You're smuggling weapons to the Empire?"

There was a moment in which Zak was speechless, then...

"THAT'S SO PIRATE!"

That probably wasn't something you were supposed to be impressed about.
 

Sedna Pulsar

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The door opened again.

As Sedna aimed, through the scope she saw a grenade thrown through the entrance. She reacted immediately, doubling back and putting her back against the wall, trying to find cover as the grenade clattered against the ground.

Instead of exploding, the grenade released a dark smoke. They were trying to dampen her visibility. The Agent immediately worked with her helmet, trying to adapt her H.U.D. to the smoke. The echolocation of her helmet turned on, she heard the footsteps of the terrorists entering the room. Beneath her visor, seeing her targets through the life scanner, she smirked.

I can still see you.

She lifted her rifle, opening fire. In the smoke, sparks of light from blaster fire sparkled in the darkness. Bolts slammed against furniture and hit people. And out of the doorway marched... Sedna Pulsar.

Her dark ISB Armor was a shadow in the restaurant. Finally! She was out of that cellar! She did a little twirl as she rounded the corner, lifting her rifle to the empty hallway, on the ready, before moving again. Outside the building, she could hear another firefight taking place. What was going on out there? She moved towards the direction of the front of the building. Echolocation still activated, she yet heard the breathing and footsteps of another soul just in the other room. She would have to go through them to get out there. What a nuisance. She slowed, rifle ready, as she hid behind the corner. She peered over and saw...

A Jedi.

She quickly ducked away from view, heart rate speeding up. Really!? A Jedi?! I am going to die today!

Still against the wall, she bit her lip, trying to calm herself. Could Jedi sense fear? All the training she had received, as a Stormtrooper then an ISB Agent, really did not help her against Jedi. Or Force Users in general.

An Imperial Knight at my side would be lovely right now!

But still, she had a job to do. She was an Imperial Agent of the glorious Empire! She had a duty, and she was not some kind of chicken! Even against the Jedi! She needed to go outside, to join up with any troops out there. She had to.

Just remember to fight smart, Sedna. Fire sparingly, so they don't deflect shots with their lightsaber. Also don't get up close, so they can't cut you with their lightsaber. Also, don't do anything because they have a lightsaber! Oh karabast, I'm dead!

She gulped, her grip on her rifle shaking for a moment before she stopped herself. She gritted her teeth. Kark it... I haven't trained half my life just to die here!

She lowered her rifle, hanging it at her side. She reached down and pulled a pistol out of her holster. The Feverwasp Particle Blaster Pistol could prove to be more useful here. She set the weapon to plasmatic bolts, which exploded on impact, making lightsaber deflection impossible. She readied her other arm, she activated her shield gauntlet. The plasma buckler offered protection against lightsabers that the rest of her suit did not. She turned the corner, facing inevitable doom. Pistol aimed and shield gauntlet held in defense, she did not say a word. She just fired for the Jedi's knee.

Lossa Aureus Lossa Aureus Rika Hiro Rika Hiro
 

"I suppose this is why they sent us with a battle meditator. Miss Arani, do you think you can prepare the rebels before the Empire breaches the port?"

"I'm not that kind of Jedi. I'm here to help, but I'm not here to take charge or lead. Battle meditation to that extent isn't something I've learned how to do." And now with Zak here there was little chance her attention would go past him. No longer was this a mission of helping the rebels so much as keeping the Padawans all alive. She took a breath, mostly to keep herself calm. Zak stowed away because..

It was a game. That's what he viewed this as. Part of her wished it was that simple. It wasn't.

"We're here because the people here are dying trying to break free of the Empire's grasp. This is a war zone. There's nothing about pirates. There's nothing fun about this. Your life is in danger. All of our lives are in danger. I didn't bring you along because I didn't want you to be in a war zone so soon as my Padawan. So, you're going to do as I say from this point on. You will stay close, you will keep your eyes and ears open. And you will run if I tell you to."

There was no turning back. Not without getting shot at. Shot down. It was fight or die. She let the headphones go, to settle him down on the floor as she rubbed at her brow.

"Do you understand?"
 

FN-999

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Objective: Finish the Job
Complement: 1/2 of a 908th Legion
Allies: Empire: Hall Mannarra Hall Mannarra | Keylee Linth Keylee Linth | Other: Karkosuchus | Open
Enemies: GA: Iris Arani Iris Arani | Jasper Kai'el Jasper Kai'el | Nyla Ven Nyla Ven | Veino Garn Veino Garn | Zak Dymo
Engaging: TBD

[Nines, no response.] radioed in Bigfoot. [Anything on your end?]

[Nothing here either.] responded FN-999. [Let's crack this nut.]

The two minute deadline had elapsed, yet no response of any form had come the 908th's way. The hangar remained silent, not a lifeform to be seen along the perimeter wall. The only noise for kilometers around was the deafening roar of the artificial storm as it slammed into everything in sight, a cascade of rain furiously pelting FN-999's armor. If the Baron didn't know any better, he'd assume that the hangar had been completely abandoned.

Suddenly, Bigfoot radioed in again.


[Hold up, we've got reinforcements. An armored company from Sabertooth, CO Commander Mannarra. Runner coming ASAP.]

It was a surprise to be sure, but a welcome one.

After a few seconds, a rain-battered stormtrooper arrived, confirming the arrival of the tanks.


"Give their CO this message." ordered FN-999 to the messenger.

"Commander Mannarra, this is Colonel Nines. We're running short on time, so I'll just get to the basics. We probably have about an hour to pull this off before the trenches flood and the 908th's heavy equipment risks sinking into the ground. Our sappers are about to knock down one of the gates, and then a company will breach the hangar and engage the rebels.
I am sure your experience inside a tank far exceeds mine. Command your unit as you see fit. If you need support, just let me know and I'll relay it. My one warning is that the hangar is a tight and enclosed space. The infantry will breach shortly. I'll keep you updated on movements."

After hastily recording it on a voice recorder, the runner... well... ran off to complete his task.

For a little while, the Baron simply stared out at the scene before him. Two hundred troopers weathered the howling winds and downpours, the sound of rain pelting off durasteel plating soon becoming deafening in the absence of conversation. The storm set a fitting mood, one of prelude and endurance.

A loud boom shook the Baron out of his thoughts.

The sappers had blown a hole in one of the exterior gates, the explosion centered about fifteen meters in front of the Baron and his assembled company. With the gate destroyed, the hangar was now open for assault. FN-999 didn't need to make an announcement for the vanguard company to understand what came next. Not as they saw the Baron clench his right hand into a fist, raise it high, and abruptly bring it down, delivering a message no amount of rain and wind could drown out.

In twenty neat rows of ten, the vanguard marched towards the hangar, blasters at the ready.

The rest of the 908th stayed put in their cordon, unaware of the forces gathering around them.
 

Karkosuchus

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It would seem that the Battle for the Spaceport was just about to begin as explosions occurred no doubt from the Stormtrooper Legion (FN-999) looking to end this quickly. Karkosuchus would assist in the matter as Dorin Resistance Members would prepare to seal the current breach and started preparing additional defensive measures inside the spaceport. Disrupting the communication network of the Spaceport would deprive the resistance of the means to communicate with each of their resistance teams inside. Taking out his binoculars and gently peaking over the stack of boxes hiding him.

He scanned the spaceport room for any leads and came across a resistance member wearing a headset and making his way up some stairs Although the entrance to said stairs was well defended. Karkosuchus had no degree but he was smart enough to understand that those wearing headsets were apart of the communications division for the Dorin Resistance. Putting away his binoculars now into one of the many pouches upon his person.

Getting down on all fours and rushing from the next stack of boxes to the next until being half way near the entrance. Grabbing his stouker concussion rifle and the Swamp Vanquisher from his back. Karkosuchus let loose a powerful roar and slammed the hammer into the boxes as the shockwave generator smacked them clear across the room and provided enough noise to draw considerable attention.

Heavy Blaster Rounds soon occured as his shell armor took quite a beating, but he was not content on letting them shoot him without consequences. Raising his concussion rifle and running towards the stairs. A swing there and a blast there as the room became quite a battlefield.

Hall Mannarra Hall Mannarra
Iris Arani Iris Arani
Jasper Kai'el Jasper Kai'el
Nyla Ven Nyla Ven
Veino Garn Veino Garn
Zak Dymo

 
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Allies: Empire: Hall Mannarra Hall Mannarra | Keylee Linth Keylee Linth | FN-999 | Madlyn Sol | Asanté Tsilor Asanté Tsilor | Other: Karkosuchus | Open

Enemies: GA: Iris Arani Iris Arani | Jasper Kai'el Jasper Kai'el | Nyla Ven Nyla Ven | Veino Garn Veino Garn | Zak Dymo


The problem with orbital drops, specifically those made by Epsilon Squad in their RDAGx was quite simple. The pilot. Apollo-06, "Razor" was as much an effective and valuable asset to the Imperial Navy as they were an adrenaline junkie, if one were to judge by their piloting style. Now descending at terminal velocity, their poor dropship was "avoiding potential anti-aircraft fire and hostile radar detection" by freefalling through a storm, blind and deaf. CS-4444 wasn't exactly sure how falling like a sack of bricks with no engines or lights on was helping, but on the other hand, thinking about it wasn't exactly an option, as he had more important things to do at the moment.

The long range communications were not working. Obviously.

The storm-raging helium cloud around them was jamming them, and with all the static, it was as possible that he was listening to the 1st-Leftenant transmitting orders as it was that he was eavesdropping on an intimate call in Huttese.
Passing on the communicator slate to one of his troopers to continue listening in hopes of regaining some semblance of signal strength, he looked around him. Epsilon and Bravo Squad were merged after the firefight on the NIV Redeemer's hangar, since both had lost some of their strength, and now, no longer fresh recruits, but part of the 4th Battalion of the 313th Legion, were deployed to aid the imperial elements in retaking the planet's spaceport and pacifying the local population.

"Alright gentlemen, ladies, the objective is simple. Friendly imperial assets were about to breach the Dorin Spaceport, where rebellious forces have entrenched themselves. As soon as we clear this cursed storm, we'll be racing against hostile reinforcements to retake the hangars before they start deploying, and we'll set up defensive positions and slowly extend our forces inwards until friendly heavy infantry and armor finally pincer the rebels between us and them. Then, we crush them. Expect heavy resistance and be warned, there are reports of force users hiding amongst the hostiles. Check your equipment, seal your suits now. Over"

The dropship kept descending and shaking violently, with the abyss around them ever raging. And the men kept checking over and over their equipment, a small semblance of control in this uncontrollable situation, as if all of their advanced equipment would be any use against the wailing tempest swallowing their ship in its fall. How many dropships would clear the storm, he wondered?

He suddenly wished cigarras were never removed from standard ration packs. He knew he needed one right about now.
 
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"You think I'm a smuggler?" Jasper asked, somewhat bewildered. "I'm a Jedi. Why in the world would I- Never mind. We don't have time for this."

Jasper took a moment to rub his brow in frustration. This is the last thing that he had expected to happen in all of this. How the hell were they going to proceed with the kid here? Whatever it was that Iris had in mind, it was certainly going to make their exit hot.

"Well," he began with a frown. "I guess I'll get going with these."

He turned to Nyla. Maybe it was smart to bring some back up. She seemed more like the intelligence-infiltratey type. He didn't know if she was gonna run off on her own, but he figured that early coordination would be best at the moment. Just in case she was one of those lone wolf types. Jasper had dealt with far too many of those kind of Jedi.

"I'd appreciate the backup," Jasper added. "I don't know what it is that you usually do, but I figure we'll be more successful in numbers. Especially with... well, the kid here I guess."

There was no going back now either way. One way or another, something was going to be blowing up. Jasper preferred it not to be them.


 

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Dorin, Central Spaceport
Equipment: "Armor", Lightsaber, Rebreather, Array of Slicer Kit, Trio of EMP Grenades
Allies: Jasper Kai'el Jasper Kai'el Zak Dymo Iris Arani Iris Arani Veino Garn Veino Garn Corbin Vasher Corbin Vasher
Enemies: Karkosuchus Hall Mannarra Hall Mannarra FN-999 CS-4444 CS-4444
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It would be a lie to say that Nyla had reached optimal mental stability in the few seconds since she last spoke, but she was fairly certain she had removed herself from the brink of panic, at least. The mission remained the same; aid the Dorin Resistance against the Imperials in whatever way she was able. The presence of a child among their crew complicated that mission, but did not change it. They would simply have to be more careful.

"I do a bit of everything, I suppose." The Padawan, despite herself, smiled beneath her mask when Jasper spoke to her, and her voice had grown almost as calm as before she'd realized they'd let a stowaway sneak aboard. "I'm a Sentinel, after all." The young Jedi was moving already, preparing herself for whatever was to come next. Little of which was likely to be pleasant; she was sure the others could feel it as well. The creeping suspicion that, as soon as the Jedi stepped outside, all hell was going to break loose. "But my specialties are infiltration, intelligence gathering, and one-on-one engagements. Most of my training as regards firefights has been on avoiding and escaping them."

Nyla shifted around on her heels, angled herself towards the ship's exit port, and unclipped her lightsaber from her belt. "In roughly eighty-five seconds, a company of stormtroopers and Force knows who else is going to breach this spaceport and open fire on a group of people for the crime of rejecting governance by a regime that operates death camps and torture sites. I would prefer if the Resistance kept this port. Failing that, I believe rendering it inoperable is preferable to allowing the Imperials to keep it."
 
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F I S T _ O F _ T H E _ E M P I R E
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION
SPARK OF RESISTANCE
HEARTS OF IRON w/ Katja Javik Katja Javik Liene E-230
Engaging: Open
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The preparations to depart were finished with haste. None of the platoons had dug deep into entrenching themselves within the abandoned housing project; each unit eager to meet the enemy in a full frontal assault, face to face. They were the 501st, shock troopers made to instill unfathomable fear into the enemy as the white armors rushed to conquer positions after position from the hands of the enemy. They were not a shield but a flail to crush all forms of resistance.

The limping form of the Sage Zasil Shu staggered with the aid of his staff as a walking stick to a nearby window. With eyes shut and hands softly waving in the air, the tempest running rampant in their immediate vicinity was tugged at the last reported positions of the rebels that had stalked the 501st's makeshift headquarters. After the Kel Dor gave his signal, the undersized company of the famed legion made its way into the streets of Dor'shan following both the Baran-Do Sage and the SCAR sergeant.

By nearly all conventional military traditions, a general of a whole division would not, or rather should not, be found among the rank-and-file on the very front lines of action. Their value as commanders were far too great to risk an untimely death that could sow disaster for a whole legion of stormtroopers. As someone would say -- cutting off the head of the snake made General Vandron an appetizing target for the enemy. But one would find the Amaxine warrior was no common adder and his own appetite for battle was far more consuming than that of those bold enough to seek his demise. He had relinquished the comfort of an officer's dark green or black uniform for the same armor his men donned, albeit with a distinctive aesthetic of black and orange and some more gadgets at his disposal. What he had learned of war had come from the grit and blood of trenches rather than the dusty holotomes of a military academy.

The undersized company of troopers shuffled through the streets as rain and thunder poured down upon them, despite Zasil's best efforts of navigating the Imperials through the storm unscathed. The thick clouds, yanked by the Sage's design, covered their advance in direction of where the lost third platoon had been ambushed.

Taking point with both the Sergeant and the wounded Sage, Saul asked: "Are we near, Sergeant?"​
 

THE EMPIRE
IMPERIAL SPECIAL FORCES
501st Legion

Allies: Saul Vandron Saul Vandron | Liene E-230
Engaging: Open
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"Wait." She instinctively held her arm out in front of the General to halt him, instead of answering his question. "They have help too." She didn't hold the authority to but the knowledge and sense of danger she had was too strong to ignore. They were still quite far from where they were ambushed but the atmosphere felt much the same and it was no surprise the rebels were advancing on them.

Even without the sound of marching, the wind and rain still swept across the landscape unrelentingly but the sound of war remained silenced for now, at least until the ping of a sniper hit the ground beside them. She took a step forward and to the side to stand in front of the General as she aimed upwards at the building the shot had come from, hoping for a confirmation on the trajectory from one of their comrades.

It would seem to serve as nothing more than a warning shot as blaster fire would rain down upon them from buildings only a few moments later. Thankfully, the troopers were already on their toes at the time of the attack and were not caught off-guard as her own platoon had been. They were not in the most advantageous position but neither were they sitting ducks.

Katja returned fire towards one of the shooters in an upper storey window. The impact wounded him, causing him to lose his balance and fall to the ground in an unceremonious end a moment later. "Sir, you should-" She stumbled back a couple of steps, narrowly avoiding him, and exclaimed in pain as she felt the searing burning of a blaster bolt connecting with her arm as she gestured to a nearby alleyway. "Take cover..." She finished.
 
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BB-4001A

Guest
B
The Dread Pirate Cyborg-Arm tried to downplay the notion of being a smuggler.

Which was exactly something a smuggler would do! The Nautolan's eyes just narrowed, the boy crossing his arms as he started to say something about the ship the not-pirate was flying around in.

Master Arani dropped the headphones, along with the news that their lives were in danger.

They were Jedi. When wasn't that the case? Even if they weren't traveling to other worlds, the Sith were usually trying to blow up their temples. Or even blow up the whole planet! That was a thing now.

"A war zone?" Zak echoed, dropping as Iris released the headphones. The boy fell to the deck with a thud, a hand raising the headphones up triumphantly.

"Astral!" the boy uttered, with way too much energy, as he popped up into a sitting position on the floor. Placing the headphones around his neck, the boy asked, "What kinda odds we got?"

"In roughly eighty-five seconds, a company of stormtroopers and Force knows who else is going to breach this spaceport and open fire on a group of people for blah blah blah blah blah blah....

"Sweet as, brahs!" the Nautolan chimed, popping up from the floor. The rando chick with the lightsaber was putting out some real Coren Starchaser Coren Starchaser vibes with that doom and gloom, outnumbered stuff.

Unclipping the lightsaber from his belt, the Nautolan tossed the hilt up into the air, rotating his torso slightly as he caught it behind his back in a smooth motion and then looked up to see his master still rubbing her brow.

"What?" the child asked innocently.

"It doesn't get any more Jedi than this!"

Though, if he had to die in a blaze of glory, he'd prefer to do it with people who identified as Jedi Guardians. Little Miss Sentinel was totally gonna be a vibe killer.
 


Was he like Jand? Someone who lived a life where battle and war weren't as horrific? She just stared at Zak, his colors. She didn't want him to experience war or battlefields so soon. Not at all, if she had the option. But there was just too much war around the Alliance to avoid it for long. And now that they were here?

Hopefully Zak wouldn't loose that smile by the end.

"Jasper, Nyla, get these supplies spread out. Zak-" The resulting explosion close by cut her off midsentence. She lifted her gaze, staring off towards where the colors twisted as she fixed her mask.

No more time to delay.

"We're going to go hold that point. With me." Like that she rushed out, rushed forward towards the incoming legion. Somewhat. She took up to the rafters, hopping towards where she could see some of the rebels hiding out. Lurking. Preparing. Some were injured? Her eyes narrowed just a tag. They were preparing a trap when the breach happened, then.

Crouching out of sight she watched as the first white helmets started to mark their way in. As ever in their unified, perfect ranks.

"What was your plan?"

"Rig the area to blow. We only got a couple charges set up near the back before they blew the doors in. We're all that's left." One of the Kel Dor's spoke up. Clearly a leader? Iris nodded her head before glancing down towards Zak.

".. Leave the charges, start making your retreat back to the fortified positions. Zak, remember your lesson? Time to put it to practical use." Was what she was about to do practical? Probably not. But she lifted a hand regardless. Closed her eyes and focused. Once the first charge lifted into the air the rebels understood pretty quickly what she was planning. Those that could started to leave, hurriedly rushing through the rafters back towards the exit. Some.

Those too injured to make a full escape? They hopped down lower, found a spot to entrench themselves. One just flashed a smile. Kel Dor's without masks had quite the grins, huh?

"Give 'em hell, Jedi."

Then opened fired. Trying to pull the eyes of the Empire their way while Iris spread the charges out above the encroaching legion. Iris and hopefully Zak. And when the last was in position?

They dropped. A flick of her wrist activated the charges as they fell from the rafters onto the legion below, primed to explode.
 

Karkosuchus

Guest
K

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After a short struggle with the Dorin Resistance near the entrance to the communication center of the Spaceport. Karkosuchus would finally be allowed up the stairs towards the sealed blast door. It was not difficult to smell the battlefield below his location as the Stormtrooper Legion finally breached the Spaceport and were engaging with the Dorin Resistance in a desperate fight for survival. The Anointed People Bounty Hunter would assist the Imperials when communications were disabled. Putting his concussion rifle back into its holster and hooking the Swamp Vanquisher to his side. Latching onto the blast door and digging into it with his jagged claws. The slow creaking sound as the blast door was being lifted up against its mechanical control. Although even with his immense strength it was a difficult task.

A brief struggle ensued as the door was finally jammed open and the monstrous being marched inside. Instantly blaster rounds impacted his iron shell armor which caused him to step back some. Moving his foot forward in a charging motion as they were knocked from their feet due to his superior weight. Picking one of the resistance members up to act like a shield the communication officer desperately attempted to call for backup.

A hurl was all it took to send the body shield slamming into the communication officer. Karkosuchus munched on their corpses as a fist was sent forward into the systems which caused it to be quite unoperational. Sparks and lightning occurred although he had withdrawn his hand. Communications would now be down for the resistance until another communication station was established.

Karkosuchus exited out of the room and down the stairs, lifting up the Swamp Vanquisher and bellowing a mighty roar in a challenge.

Jasper Kai'el Jasper Kai'el
Zak Dymo
Nyla Ven Nyla Ven
FN-999
Hall Mannarra Hall Mannarra
CS-4444 CS-4444
 

FN-999

Guest
F

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Objective: Finish the Job
Complement: 1/2 of a 908th Legion
Allies: Empire: Hall Mannarra Hall Mannarra | Keylee Linth Keylee Linth | Other: Karkosuchus | Open
Enemies: GA: Iris Arani Iris Arani | Jasper Kai'el Jasper Kai'el | Nyla Ven Nyla Ven | Veino Garn Veino Garn | Zak Dymo
Engaging: TBD


All of a sudden, it was raining bullets.
Troopers ducked as a hail of blaster fire came from the roof above, rebels seemingly hiding out in the rafters.

[BREAK THE RAFTERS!] ordered FN-999 through StormComm as troopers around him fell to the new onslaught.

The surviving troopers began to entrench themselves, several dozen firing into the rafters above. Some of the shock troopers had rocket launchers and soon put them to good use, tearing off large chunks of the rafters and sending squads of rebels falling to their deaths.

Just as the Baron was feeling comfortable enough to consider resuming an offensive, he saw multiple large objects move to float above the company.


[EXPLOSIVES, SCATTER!!!] yelled the Baron frantically, just as the objects dropped down upon his troops.

He lunged to the side, gaining as much distance between himself and the company's center of mass as possible. Not even a second later, several explosions rocked the room. The shockwave sent him falling to the ground, a wave of heat coursing through him from the nearby blast. For a moment, his ears were consumed only by the sound of the explosion, any screams or gunfire directed his way fading to nothing.

Finally, the blast receded, a thin layer of smoke clouding the room as FN-999 assessed the damage. Around him were several other troopers, mostly part of the death trooper squad, who also had the quick thinking to scatter. They were battered and bruised, but they were still alive.

Many others were not so lucky.

Behind the Baron lay numerous roasted limbs and armor plates, centered around a large crater where the company had once stood. A sharp pang of dread shot down his stomach as he realized just how powerful the blasts had been. A chorus of moans and screams rung out from those who barely clung to life, third-degree burns littering their mutilated bodies. If FN-999 was a younger, newer commander, he may have vomited at the sight.

Yet as depressing as it was, the Baron had seen worse.

At least the rebels weren't still around to finish them off.


[All healthy troopers, take the wounded out of this battle ASAP!] demanded FN-999 over the comms. [Anyone without a task, entrench yourself as deep as possible.]

The company sprung to action, many frantically seeking to escape the hell they had found themselves in. As the wounded were led out under the protection of the healthy, FN-999 found himself counting his casualties even as he peered down the barrel of his rifle.

Barely twenty troopers remained healthy and unoccupied, the rest either dead, wounded, or carrying the wounded out.


It was tempting now to give up, to regroup and come back with more caution and a far larger force. However, time was not on the 908th's hands. The longer they waited, the less feasible a siege became and the more time the rebels had to fortify or perhaps even spring a new trap. At the same time, morale had dropped greatly due to the explosions, and barely a tenth of the original company remained in condition to continue an offensive. It was a decision that would stump any reasonable commander, and FN-999 too found his thoughts occupied by the dilemma.

Ultimately, his emotions were the deciding factor.

FN-999's initial shock at the devastation wrought by the explosives was beginning to turn into a burning desire for vengeance. His anger sharpened his emotions, invigorating his brain and body alike. Deep down, the Baron knew he could take most of the rebels himself if he put his all into the effort. However, despite the heavy losses the company had already taken, FN-999 knew that it would be far faster and easier to secure the port if he had help.

The Baron rose up from his position beneath a haphazardly stacked pair of boxes, assessing those who stood with him. The entire death trooper squad, nine shock troopers, and six regular stormtroopers lined the hallway, blasters trained further within. He was pleased that he still had a diverse mix of troopers, each capable of covering the other's weaknesses.

Without further hesitation, FN-999 turned to address the group.


"I will not stop you if you want to withdraw." stated the Baron. "That trap was absolutely brutal, and there is no guarantee that there will not be another. However, I want you to know that even if you all withdraw, I will continue into the hangar. I will not waste the sacrifices of our legion, even if that means charging into the unknown. I would sooner die a martyr than live as a defeated commander who threw dozens of lives away for nothing."

"So, let me ask you this. Will you fight with me?"


The chorus of approval was unanimous and almost instantaneous.


"Then let's give those bastards exactly what they deserve."

Rapidly fanning out, the best of the best defiantly continued their advance into the hangar.

The Baron could have sworn that a beastly roar guided him onward.

 

Liene E-230

Guest
L

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Liene E-230
Objective: Hearts of Iron
Post #: 2
Writing With:

Narrative Tags: Annor E-059, Erin E-141, DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran , Kier Grey Kier Grey , Saul Vandron Saul Vandron , Katja Javik Katja Javik , Sedna Pulsar.

Liene's head swivels to her left; she watches a pair of grown men in white coats, Navy armour technicians, struggle to heft and heave the thick heavy, assault-class powered assault helmet up and over Annor's straw ponytail. "Nern." The ensign's soft tenor immediately grasps Liene's gaze; that was her Seeker Program callsign; it denoted Liene as its' eighteenth member.

Laid on an obsidian examination table, entombed within the metal and ceramic powered armour of her unique variant of Mark four Rampart Powered Assault Armour. Liene watches the Navy technician take her heavy left hand with both of his and hold it up to a laser proboscis that descends from a mechanical gantry arm. Its' laser eye etches into the plate covering her knuckles, the Aurebesh symbol corresponding with her callsign.

Liene watches the process repeated with her right hand, finally. A pair of Navy technicians approach with her heavy ceramic helmet and, with gentle grace, heave it down over the crown of the loose strands of black hair dangling in free waves from her scalp. A rubber seal inflates and clasps tightly, though not uncomfortable at the bodysuit's sleek fabric around her throat, the room's air supplanted by dry sterile climate-controlled oxygen from the suit; at this moment, a distant whisper from the past ekes into Liene's ears; it sounded like a faraway conversation down a hallway echoing along marble walls.
I will serve as a daughter must serve. However, as I have made it, coruscant will stand, a bastion of peace and prosperity.

Icy tendrils knife into Liene's skull like a rush of cold water. Her eyelids widened as the battlesuit's droid intelligence merged with her central nervous system through her neural interface, and she suppressed a gasp. Liene could feel the armour plating now like it was her skin; the cold touch of the obsidian slab's surface was now unpleasantly apparent. The visor widgets loaded; Liene sits up, swivels, and turns her brass-coloured visor upward to Annor's turquoise lens, looming above her. "Hurry, Li", Annor commands.

The pair of post-human women clad in their half-ton powered assault armour ran in a single file down a narrow gantry lined with single-occupant drop pods. "Standby for hyperspace disembarkation Seekers." Erin's voice pierces the comlink channel. Liene pirouettes like a dancer from her blistering sprint into the seat of the drop pod. Its' door hinged down like a pendulum, and the acorn-shaped metal craft rotates. Liene's blue spheres peer through her whiskey-coloured visor down below, and the enormous belly of the Stealth Frigate opens wide; a star-streaked morass as a meteor shower-filled abyss waited beneath Liene's feet.

Sirens sing their monotonous melody; the soaring Stars give way to an ugly brown globe, and their continental target is visible through the toxic clouds of Dorin's skies. Liene felt the drop pod's hull retrothrusters push her stomach toward the bottom of both feet. "Override accepted." The computer says throughout the tin can. Liene's hands fasten around the control sticks and steadily direct the pod.

"These things are deathtraps." Liene thought wordlessly and turned her gaze toward Annor's drop-pod as they closed together for a final approach. Fire from the atmospheric friction swallowed their metal pods like chestnuts giving them the appearance of two errant meteors to the visible eye and sensors. Liene's eyes narrow as the Earth's features and drop-pod close, Liene's left-hand raised to rake anxiously through the strands of her hair only to patter against her 'head'. Plunging through the Maelstrom, Annor's drop-pod slammed into Liene's sending her into a uncontrolled spiralling dive for the surface .


"Li, report." Annor's composed voice cracked with a hint of alarm her sapphire eyes study the holographic panels on the door's inside face watching the IFF transponder of Liene's pod corkscrew off-course. Her own feeble drop pod shuddered violently.
 

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F I S T _ O F _ T H E _ E M P I R E
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION
SPARK OF RESISTANCE
HEARTS OF IRON w/ Katja Javik Katja Javik Liene E-230
Engaging: Open
Stormtroopers
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Well-trained, the stormtroopers immediately made themselves small and shuffled into columns glued to the side of the buildings hampering the enemy's line of sight, allowing the rebels fewer angles of fire. The hail of wild blaster fire rained down upon their positions as violent and untamed as the storms above their heads as red bolts scorched the wet duracrete leaving behind obsidian marks in their wake.

A few bodies in white armor collapsed to the ground, either dead or knocked out, and Saul bellowed at the Sage who had moved to the opposite side of the street from the general, "Bring those clouds lower!!"

"
Patience, General! Patience!!" Zasil responded through the cacophony, his hands reaching up to the sky. "The turncoat -- he is here!!" he added, a strain to his voice as the forces of nature resisted his bidding.

"... a virtue we don't need." Saul muttered with scorn before shifting to the wounded SCAR sergeant beside him, "No more cover, trooper, no more hiding!" he unsheathed the songsteel blade and waved it in the air. A bolt of lightning's reflection skipped across its impeccable surface. :: Esk Company, clear these buildings, now!! Weapons free!! :: his voice boomed through the comms ordering the company of stormtroopers under his command into what they did best -- assault the enemy, shove gun barrels right into the enemy's face. Collateral mattered little when the virtue of order was at stake. Chaos would be subdued by the white fist of the stormtrooper. No matter what.

"C'mon, kid--" he pulled Spectre up to her feet. "-- keep them off my back; anything that looks like a threat..." the menacing half-black, half-orange helm gazed straight into her soul, "... show no mercy."

Rockets crashed into the higher floors of the buildings signaling the start of their attack as men and women in white armor rushed into the buildings adjacent to the street. Doors were kicked down or detonated opening the floodgates to a tidal wave of stormtroopers. Meanwhile, Saul burst through a half-open door from one of the alleys and hurried forward with a blade and a verpine shatter rifle in both hands, hoping the SCAR trooper could keep up with his pace and the onslaught that would be wrecked upon anything that stood in the way of the juggernaut general.​
 

BB-4001A

Guest
B
To her credit, Master Arani seemed to come around.

"We're going to go hold that point. With me."

Hooking the headphones so that they hung around his neck, the Nautolan fumbled for a moment with a breath mask.

Aquatic privilege usually meant Zak didn't have to wear one of these. So it was a moment while the boy fitted the the mask to his face. This wasn't awkward at all. Said no one ever.

Humans donned these on the regular? Man, it sucked to be them.

Finally, the green-skinned boy looked up and gave Iris a boy scout salute. "Let's do it to it!" he boasted, as he fell into step behind the Jedi knight.

Not going to lie, the outlook was sobering.

But it had been sobering when the Mandalorian Crusaders had attacked Voss. Or when the Silver Rest had been bombed. Time and time again, Zak had witnessed that there were no sanctuaries in the universe. No place where someone wouldn't try to inflict hate or pain or suffering on other people.

He was seeing it now. People hurt. Anger and despair choking love or reason. The idea of alternatives quickly fading as a forgotten dream as the horde of stormtroopers was advancing. It was a bad situation.

But that's what made the task of the Jedi so important, because what was a Jedi if not a light of hope in dark places?

".. Leave the charges, start making your retreat back to the fortified positions. Zak, remember your lesson? Time to put it to practical use."

Not gonna lie. Not what he was expecting.

Master Matsu Ike Matsu Ike would have probably employed shields of some kind, used her combination of technology and the Force to put a bulwark between the rebels and the Imperials. Master Nefertari Sovint Nefertari Sovint would have probably told Zak to help the wounded to evacuate while supporting the rebels withdrawal from the Empire's assault. After all, the first lesson he'd been taught had been that a Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense, not for attack.

Well, apparently, they were on offense. "Wait, what?" the boy chirped, finding his preconceptions smashed and playing catch up on the playbook as he watched what Master Arani was doing. Which, what was Master Arani doing? Because apparently she wanted Zak to be doing it.

At least it was a quick study. Hand levitation stuff. With explosives.

"Sweet as, brah," the Nautolan uttered. Was it really? No, not really. Also, was it proper to call a Jedi brah? In any case, this is what they were doing. The Nautolan used both hands to flip the headphones up so that they were nestled on his head. A flick of a finger flipped the on switch.

Headphones On [ vacant ]

Bopping his head in time with the music, as soon as the beat dropped the Nautolan raised his arms up. A pair of explosive charges joined Iris' in the air, waiting for the command to drop.

When the explosion came, it was hard not to think about the flames closing in around him, as he'd been inside the Silver Rest when it had gone up in flame. And now they were here. Doing this.

The Nautolan gave a heavy sigh. For a moment, his shoulders bowed as memories and guilt, and then memories of guilt washed over him.

This sucked. And, the truth was, Zak couldn't make it not suck. This planet. The Alliance-Imperial War. The Jedi-Sith thing. Hell, pirates or slavers or spice dealers or anyone else who profited from other people's pain. He couldn't make any of that not suck.

He could only cling to hope that maybe -- maybe -- the Jedi could help make it suck just a little less.

He took a deep breath. Even through the breath mask, the distinct, acrid smell of smoke filled his nostrils. The smell of melted duraplast and something slightly sweet. The smell of burning flesh.

And a tide of Imperial soldiers that were still coming.

Adopting a smile, which the boy hoped that his master could hear even if she couldn't see it because of the breath mask, the boy held up a fist for his master to bump as he offered, "Looks like today's gonna get worse before it gets better, Master."

The incoming fire that was aimed up into the rafters was probably evidence enough of that statement.
 

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