Public Spark of Resistance | Dire Hour 2

[Saram Kote]

​

Friendly Units: 'Davaab' Vuhyr'yaliyr Ramikade Squad
Units in Reserve: Galaar 1-1, G-02H/S Shev'la'galaar-class Heavy Stealth Gunship
Ally Tag(s): Veino Garn | Corbin Vasher | Jasper Kai'el | Iris Arani | Zak Dymo | Nyla Ven
Hostile Tag(s): FN-999 | Karkosuchus | Hall Mannarra | CS-4444

Equipment​

• Armor:
  
  • 'Ori'vuhyr'yaliyr'gam
  • Vambrace Weapons:
    
    • TBP-01V Tractor-Pressor Beam Projector
    • PC-05V Plasma Caster
      
      • Plasma Gas Medium Cannister (1)
    • MML-01V Miniaturized Missile Launcher
      
      • Electro Darts (4)
      • (4) Striilir'ika-class Brilliant Micro-missile
      • Surveillance Tagger Darts (4)
    • NML-02VTB Nano missile Launcher
• Implant(s):​
  • 'Rammikad' Enhancement Package
  • 'Gar Tkiriyr' Neural Interface
• Melee:
  
  • B-01M Beskad
  • K-02M Kal (2)
• Sidearm(s)
  
  • LRH-5A Verpine Shatter Pistol w/ 'Kyrayc Sur'haai' 1-4x Short Range Optic
• Rifle(s):
  
  • DR-04DB Class-D Disruptor Rifle w/ 1-12x Medium Range Optic and UGL-02 Underbarrel Grenade Launcher
  • AMR-4M Verpine Shatter Anti-Materiel Rifle w/ 'Kyrayc Sur'haai' 1-250x Extreme Range Optic
• Explosives:
  
  • Det-Packs (2)
  • Flex-5 Detonite Tape (1 roll)
  • Smoke Grenades (3)
  • Flash-Bang Grenades (3)
  • Class-A Thermal Detonator (2)
  • NOVA40 Plasma Grenade (2)

Dorin Central Spaceport
1000 meters to the present rear of the Imperial armored/mechanized unit

​

Saram and Davaab seemed to have a weakspot when it came to rebels. Of course, not that she nor the others needed any kind of reason to want to ruin the day of the Empire, what Veino Garn had leaked regarding what they'd been up to at that blacksite of theirs had been more than reason enough to. To boot, given that galaxy spanning war would be devastating to long-term business, they had virtually every reason to be here. All that was even if it hadn't been gently suggested to them by some old acquaintances of theirs who'd been along on a similar endeavor that they should definitely land a hand if they were able.

Dorin was just about the perfect place to fight any modern army. Storms kept them from calling in air support and made comms spotty at the best of times. Decent enough rigs like theirs could get by some of the time, but Davaab had been sticking to helmet-to-helmet laser-comms for the most part. The Kel Dor were decent enough too, and were quickly proving themselves to be more than capable, tenacious, motivated fighters. Whether that would stay as the Empire tried their damndest to bring them to hell remained to be seen.

Whoever was planning this current operation had maybe overplayed their hand. It was great for a loud, obvious, defiant demonstration, but unless there was a GA strike force or a whole lot of solus, t'ad, ehn and cuir. Vikhar, Anila and Janar made up Cuir, and had taken up positions with a A-02 Verpine Shatter autocannon and a pair of ML-04 missile launchers. Ehn consisted of Jaing, who was setting up a pair of ADT-02M MMOL 'Cabur' automated defense turrets under some nailed down camouflage netting. T'ad and Solus were two sniper teams consisting of the four remaining members of the squad; Ran and Viraen in T'ad and Rusana and herself in Solus.

Jaing's two turrets had been loaded with half a load of Getnayark'a-class guided plasma missiles and Getna-class anti-armor brilliant missiles, while Anila and Janar's launchers were loaded with three Striilir-class Brilliant missiles each. The tanks were going to be the tougher nuts to crack by far. ERA plating, Jager's Cuora anti-disruptor plating, molecular and Xythan force shielding. These shabla things were the real deal. They were going to leave the IFVs to their burc'ya from the RTL and the Kel Dor rebels with them.

She and Rusana were perched inside an old building, currently to the rear of the convoy, the storm shutter partially rolled up to allow them to rest their rifles on the parapet. Though the Ori'akar stealth suite complained, it did its job of keeping them safe from prying eyes and sensors for the most part. Until they got close enough. That was of course if they were also functioning right with the storm. The others held similar positions.

Except for Jaing, who had set up the turrets on an upper level speeder pad. The rebels' distraction had helped them move quick and get into position. The storm was bad, but the turrets' repulsors still worked to get them up onto the pad via the building's interior fast enough. The camouflage nets were fluttering in the high winds, but with all the dust and other osik flying around she very much doubted the flickering would be noticed, not it was too late anyway.

"Ehn, we ready?" she whispered into her helmet's mic as she watched the Imperial armor through her scope.

"'Lek. Cold launch set," responded Jaing, never one for more than a few words. The two turrets showed up on Saram's Manda battlenet tac map. She saw their projected firing lines. Cold launch in the MMOL's case was a magnetically accelerated shove before the missile's engine activated and picked up. She knew the tanks had jammers, these days, what wasn't packing at least a basic electronic warfare suite? She was counting on that, however. In this storm, the jamming signal might be stronger than any target lock the missile could acquire.

"Ehn, narir," breathed Saram. Ordinarily, she'd have definitely been able to hear the whoosh of the missiles in the distance, but with the storm, she wasn't sure if what she heard until the eight Getna anti-armor missiles went streaking past her was the wind or the missiles. "Cuir, narir," Six Striilir missiles, three from each launcher, streaked outward toward each of the tanks from positions she knew were occupied by her vode only thanks to HUD overlaid IFF markers. "Ehn, withdraw. Cuir, relocate," she ordered as she waited and watched to see just how those Imperial tanks were going to fare.

 

[Iris Arani]

Jasper Kai'el | Zak Dymo | Nyla Ven | FN-999 | Karkosuchus

"Today was never going to be a good day."

Iris didn't take her eyes off of it. Couldn't take her eyes off of it. The destruction they caused, the lives they took. If there was more time, less danger, perhaps there could've been a different option. No time to dwell on it now. Especially not now. The only saving grace was despite the dimming in Zak's colors he wasn't in full despair. Hopefully he'd be able to still cling to the light he had earlier when it was all said and done.

The rebels had already retreated further in. The ones that hadn't been caught in the blast. Or caught in the blaster fire of the legion before it. More dead. She steeled her expression before knocking her knuckles against Zak's own.

"Don't separate. And if it feels weird, don't resist it. It'll keep us both safe."

The explosion slowed, but didn't stop the incoming Stormtroopers. She hopped down in the smoke and debris. The colors would guide her, better than her eyes. And not just her eyes. She'd planned to make it a lesson, just as she had with Silas and Cailen so long ago. No time now. She pulled at the colors around Zak, pulled them. Mixed them with their own. Blended and melded to make the two, one.

Share perception, share thought. Emotion. It was the best way she knew how to keep him safe, even if it meant him seeing the dazzling array of colors around them. Emotion, life, death, all dying the Force different colors. Her perception with only enough of a limit to keep it from being overwhelming.

<While the smoke is up we'll thin their numbers. Use the colors to guide you.>

Then she moved. Weaving through the rubble and smoke like a shade to strike at the coming troopers. Strike from the shadows, strike from out of sight. Pick them off one by one with a flash of pink as her saber worked to strike them down. Every one of them they could clear out here was another that wouldn't batter against the rebels defenses deeper in. Every second they kept them here, another wall could be fortified.

This is what she could do.

 

[Hall Mannarra]

The Empire
Expansion Region | Dorin | Outskirts of Central Spaceport
Primary Objective: Retake Spaceport
Secondary Objective: Provide Armored Support To Friendly Infantry Elements
Friendlies: The Empire | FN-999 | CS-4444 | Keylee Linth | Karkosuchus
Hostiles: Insurrectionists | Galactic Alliance | Iris Arani | Jasper Kai'el | Nyla Ven | Zak Dymo | Veino Garn | Corbin Vasher
Directly Engaging: Saram Kote
Gear: In Bio

Spoiler: Forces

Elements of the 181st Armored Division, 2nd Bn. 3rd Co. 3rd Pl.
XT-62 MBTb ‘331’ | Charlie 3-1 | [Command Tank]
XT-62 MBTb ‘332’ | Charlie 3-2 | Column Lead Tank
XT-62 MBTb ‘333’ | Charlie 3-3 | [On Reserve]
XT-62 MBTb ‘334’ | Charlie 3-4 | [On Reserve]

Elements of the 181st Armored Division, 2nd Bn. 5th Co. 4th Pl.
XV-60a APC ‘541’ [Mech. Inf. Command Element]
XV-60a APC ‘542’
XV-60a APC ‘543’ [On Reserve]
XV-60a APC ‘544’ [On Reserve]

THE GREAT TRIAL​

Apprehension.

The young Tank Commander’s mind was preoccupied with deep apprehension as they waited for the runner to return. The constant concern gnawed at him, as incessant as the storm raging above their heads in the heavens above. The back of his mind unpleasantly burned; he had only felt that a handful of times before, most notably on Ilum, just a precious few moments before blaster bolts flew overhead.

Combat was what usually followed in the wake of such a strong sense of apprehension; a warning of the things to come.

Very much on edge, the young TC uncomfortably turned around and looked to his rear, at the rows of evacuated, empty rows of structures stretching down the street behind them, scanning the urban terrain while turned out from his cupola; the relatively low visibility conditions from the storm was damning, but at least their optics were not so hindered by it.

Sensing movement to the front of their tank in siege mode, the young man turned to the direction of the commotion; the runner, the one his Platoon Commander -Lieutenant Löwe- had sent, returned. <”What are our orders?”> the young man impatiently asked the trooper, anxiety laden in his young weariful voice, as he watched the man climb their tank from the front at an angle within the line of sight of the driver’s viewport, all according to the regulations.

<”Hear for yourself, Sergeant,”> the trooper flatly responded as he played the recorded message upon reaching the turret of the tank, lowering himself to a casual squat beside him on the turret as he stretched his hand towards the young man with the audio recorded in his grasp for him to hear the recording more clearly.

"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."

Involuntarily, heeding to his gut feeling and the alarm bells ringing at the back of his mind as the message played out, he shifted his gaze to the rear again; only to see a salvo of missiles arching towards them mid-air. The otherwise faint whistle one might’ve heard was swept away amidst the downpour pattering on the steel armor of his tank.

<”CONTAAAAAAAAAAAAAACT!”> he shouted at the top of his lungs as he buttoned up, disappearing into the armored confines of his tank as he shut the hatch behind him as the runner immediately scurried down the tank from whence he climbed on, sliding onto the ground from the upper front plate.

Not a moment after the young man turned in, the young Tank Commander began issuing orders post-haste to his crew as the tank violently shook under the missile barrage while the pair of Cataphracts in the small armored column disappeared amidst a cloud of dust and smoke that followed after a bright, lively hue of azure flash in the wake of the attack.

The particle shield withstood the severe punishment, but for how long till it gave way?

<”DRIVER! DISENAGE SIEGE MODE! TRAVERSE, CLOCK SIX!”> the young man ordered as he turned his commander’s 360° panoramic sights towards the sector they took fire from. <”GUNNER! HEAT! ANTI-TAAAANK! TRAVERSE RIIIIGHT!”> with a shout to his gunner, the turret ring whined mechanically as the gunner swung the turret around; in the meantime, Kale, their designated Driver, complied with the command amidst his excessive cursing as he turned the tank on the spot towards the aforementioned sector, their frontal armor facing where they presumed the enemy was.

Traversing towards the sector they took fire from at the same time, the turret noticeably lagged behind the traversing hull, as the power was mostly diverted to the drive wheels; switched onto thermals on his panoramic sights, he could make out the faint silhouette of a turret set up on the roof of a building.

Although something shrouded the turret and denied the young Tank Commander of seeing its full silhouette he could see its barrels glowering back athim, glowing ‘WHITE-HOT’ on his thermals; but it was not for long until it disappeared from his sight, pulled behind the parapet of the roof.

<”STEADY!”> he instructed his Tank Gunner as they brought the cannon to bear at the target building. <”OOOON!”>

<”IDENTIFIIIED!”> the Gunner confirmed the target.

<”FIRE-FIRE INCENDIARY!”>

<”ON THE WAAAY!”>

The gun breech of the Cataphract’s dreaded mass driver recoiled backwards in the fighting compartment as the fin stabilized high explosive anti tank round darted out of the barrel at an unprecedented speed in the following moment after the Gunner’s words, shaking the structure to its core upon finding purchase with the structure as its spent shell brassily tingled as it shot out the gun breech, falling into the basket right underneath.

Remaining idle not, as their resident giant amongst their crew -Stege- immediately went about feeding a HEI into the breech, the gunner switched to ‘COAX’ with the flick of a button at his station, unleashing a long winded salvo of red blaster bolts at the pull of the trigger, painting the building for the Command Tank to engage the same target.

The breach closed shut with a loud mechanical clang shortly after their first shot. <”UUUUUUP!”>

<”AGAINAGAINAGAINAGAINAGAIN!”> the young man sputtered as he shouted over the intercom, his young anxious voice heavy with panic, fear and anger. <”RE-ENGAGING!”>

The gun bellowed sharply once more -and another, as ‘331’ followed ‘332’s example; intending to burn out the infantry garrisoning the structure in a hot, melting cloud of white phosphorus, or bring it down altogether, a burning white cloud would soon cover the target building with the high explosive charges tearing the structure asunder, as the Imperial Armor aimed to prevent the opposing force from relocating.

 

[Veino Garn]

DORIN CENTRAL SPACEPORT
DOR'SHAN, DORIN
500 METERS FROM CORDON
Corbin Vasher Pyeth Raffinki
Hall Mannarra FN-999 Jasper Kai'el Iris Arani Karkosuchus Keylee Linth Zak Dymo Nyla Ven Saram Kote CS-4444

Spoiler: Complement

Armor; Poncho; Handcannon; Lightsaber; Durasteel Ball Bearings; EF-300 Carbine with explosive, standard, and armor-piercing slugs; Red Spray Paint; Electrobinoculars
TEAM: Four Kel'Dor rebels equipped with ballistic vest, Model 38s, 1 EF-200 Sniper Rifle, 1 M32 Grenade Launcher with thermal detonator, ion, and cryoban grenades; 1 with RPS-6 Rocket Launcher

The ground shook faintly beneath the building and Veino leaned up, glancing over the edge of the window. Smoke was whirled away by the hangar entrance as the stormtroopers breached, followed swiftly by a massive barrage of explosions. Their faint roar traveled through the ground as much as they did the air, so he felt it through his boots more than he heard it.

"They're committed," Veino said at last. "Corbin, with me. Alpha, prepare to fire. Bravo, secure our exfil route." The two Kel'dor without the heavy weaponry nodded and slipped down the stairs to the entrance at the back of the building, facing away from the hangar, before they hauled the door to one side. Wind and rain snapped into the building, throwing up dust.

"One salvo," Veino repeated calmly, "Then exfiltrate. Corbin and I will hold the rear. Now, grenadier, get me an apogee as close to the hangar entrance as you can and I'll do the rest."

"Rockets loaded," the other replied. "Bearing and distance set. Dumbfire only."

"A-firm," Veino replied. "Standby. Grenades when ready." He leaned back on the floor and felt out with the Force, letting his senses drift far away towards the hangar, feeling for the emotions, while part of him remain focused on the eight canisters of death slotted into the launcher. Ranger was greater than ideal, but the Force would carry them the rest of the way.

There was a slight pop and hiss as the first Class-A thermal detonator launched, followed a few seconds later, as he cycled through the entire magazine. They had been alternated with the ion grenades, aiming for the rear of the breaching company and whatever was at the start of their reserves.

They'd walked into a trap ahead of them. Now there would be fire coming in from behind. Their mechanized unit was under heavy fire. The possibilities whirled through Veino's mind as he wrapped the eight projectiles in the Force, letting their own momentum carry them along at first. They began to stall and fall.

"Rockets away," Veino replied, eyes still closed as he guided the Force around the eight grenades and snapped them forward at an angle to where he felt the strongest feelings of revenge and pain radiating from whoever was left. There was a distant crack as the eight grenades hurtled downwards into the rear of the entrenched positions of the breaching companies. Four Class-A thermal detonators and found ion grenades.

Beside him, the rockets whooshed out through the window, aiming for the APCs. One, two, three, four.

"Time to go," Veino replied as the counter-fire from the tanks shook the ground. He opened his eyes and rolled to his knees, bringing the carbine to his shoulder as the two remaining Kel'dor hurried down the stairs.

The team formed up on the door, pressing themselves flat against the interior wall as wind howled through the open doorway.

"Exfil clear!" One of them yelled over the hiss of the wind and they moved into the street, crouched low and slid open a manhole cover to the sewers below. The Kel'dor squad leader dropped in first, flicking on a light, before the others followed him down.

"Corbin, go," Veino replied, attaching a cryoban grenade to doorway after sealing it shut. Next person to open the door would receive a very cold awakening. "I'll be right behind."

The Kel'dor were undercover now and Veino waited, staring down the street through his visor, looking for the first signs of counter-attack. The Mandos had drawn the first volley and he knew they'd be relocating elsewhere to launch a second strike.

Once everyone else was in, Veino let himself drop onto the ladder below the manhole cover. The wind was less down below and he dragged the hatch back over the entrance while the carbine hung from his shoulder. His lightsaber flared to life, silver in the gloom outside the flashlights and he moved its point across the hatch.

The metal glowed red hot, softened, and then cooled back down, fused to seal the entrance. "That will slow them down if they think to try and follow us here."

"Not for long," Veino disagreed, reclipping the saber to his belt. "They'll get breaching charges or a fusion cutter. But as long as they're using their heavy ordinance on doors, they can't use them on us."

"Head to the second location," Veino said, "I can hold back and keep them off your tail."

 

[Corbin Vasher]

Spoiler: Equipment

ARMOR: Gar'Katya
WEAPONS: Ravenfire - Burbr'sacitr - Burbr'sacitayr - Nuhaatyc'bedtr​

TAG: Veino Garn Pyeth Raffinki Saram Kote

"Time to go," Veino replied as the counter-fire from the tanks shook the ground. He opened his eyes and rolled to his knees, bringing the carbine to his shoulder as the two remaining Kel'dor hurried down the stairs.

The team formed up on the door, pressing themselves flat against the interior wall as wind howled through the open doorway.

Corbin made sure to subtly bend light and sound around the Kel'dors to make sure they weren't seen or heard. He couldn't hide the presence of others like he could his own, but he could still make them invisible and silent. That was probably more than good enough in these conditions, but one could never be too careful when lives were at stake. The Kel'dor team dropped down into the sewers.

"Corbin, go," Veino replied, attaching a cryoban grenade to doorway after sealing it shut. Next person to open the door would receive a very cold awakening. "I'll be right behind."

Corbin ran, still carrying the Saarai-kar's red spray paint in his left hand, Burbr'sacitr in his right. He changed his stealth target to himself and Veino Garn , bending light and sound around them. He not only made it impossible for anyone outside to hear them, it made easier for them to hear each other over the howling of the wind. Thankfully his armor kept the weather off and his air breathable. He dropped down into the dark sewer tunnel. The Kel'dor leader had a glowrod, producing a little light for them to see. It didn't really matter much for Corbin, though. Natural Force Sight from his Miraluka ancestry allowed him to see the Force flowing around and through everything, so it was quite easy to see in the dark. And with the Jensaarai enclave being underground, he had had plenty of experience using it to walk dark corridors.

"Head to the second location," Veino said, "I can hold back and keep them off your tail."

Corbin led the Kel'dor team down the sewer tunnel. They came to a central junction, seven other tunnels branching out in addition to the one they had travelled. "We'll set up a small base here and wait for Master Garn. Hopefully they'll inspect the office building before they turn their attention this way. And get a taste of Garn's little present." And see the messages they had left for them.

 

[Katja Javik]

THE EMPIRE
IMPERIAL SPECIAL FORCES
501st Legion
Allies: Saul Vandron | Liene E-230
Engaging: Open​

Her focus was evidently not as clear as it usually was. Witnessing the murder of an entire platoon had left her shaken, no matter how much she tried to pretend otherwise. She was not a hardened veteran who had witnessed innumerable battles. Experience was the only training that couldn't be learned in the Academy. Every battle was a new lesson.

"Sorry." She muttered an apology as he helped her up, sucking in a breath at the searing pain in her arm. It throbbed but it was nothing a little adrenaline couldn't handle, though it was only through her own carelessness that it had happened. It wasn't good enough and she knew it. There were only two courses of action: get better or get killed. If that wasn't enough motivation, her actions affected everyone around her - people she had been entrusted with protecting.

The General soon grounded her in the moment with his order - a sense of purpose. "Show no mercy." She repeated in acknowledgement, her gaze remaining locked onto his visor.

Diligently, she matched the General's pace but stayed a few paces behind, similarly armed with a vibroknife and rifle. Despite the sounds of battle growing ever-louder, accompanied by the pounding of hundreds of feet, she was still alert and finely tuned to any distinctions that presented themselves. She had witnessed enough loss today to make that mistake again.

The brief sound of nearby furniture scraping against the floor war enough to warrant her attention. She glanced towards the General but opted to take the quick detour, knowing it would only take a few moments to investigate.

She kicked a table over to reveal two rebels, no older than herself, cowering beneath it. One immediately held his open palms in front of him. "Please, we surren-" He started but Katja didn't allow him to finish before delivering a fatal shot to the chest, followed by a similarly swift execution of the other rebel without as much as a second thought.

She didn't linger but immediately ran to catch back up with Saul. A rebel saw opportunity in the General's turned back but as soon as she caught sight of a rifle barrel, she shot the weapon, even before determining who it belonged to. Even if it was a Stormtrooper caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, it would be of little harm, but thankfully it was a surprised-looking rebel whose attention turned onto the Trooper that he had been attacked by. Without stopping, she fired a couple of shots in his direction until she was satisfied he was wounded enough not to be a threat, if he wasn't outright killed.

No mercy.

​

 

[FN-999]

Objective: Finish the Job
Complement: 5x Death troopers | 1/2 of a 908th Legion
Allies: Empire: Hall Mannarra | Keylee Linth | Other: Karkosuchus | Open
Enemies: GA: Jasper Kai'el | Nyla Ven | Veino Garn | Zak Dymo
Engaging: Iris Arani | Open

"Jedi!" called a shock trooper a few meters to FN-999's right.

The Baron and his surviving retinue barely had time to turn to face the trooper before he was cut down.

Nineteen left.
​

A pink lightsaber blade had thrust in and out of the trooper's chest in a fraction of a second, the trooper dead before he hit the ground. Its source had vanished in a blur of immense speed, leaving the remaining nineteen Imperials anxious and exposed.

"Regroup!" ordered the Baron. "Got a thermal read on the Jedi?"

"Negative." responded a nearby death trooper, presumably straining their eyes beneath their helmet as they scanned the area.

Another shock trooper and two regulars were cut down before the survivors regrouped around a security terminal, gathering together in the cover provided by the thick durasteel structure.

Next on the Baron's bucket list was clearing the area any hiding spots the Jedi could continue to strike from.

"Scorched earth!" ordered FN-999.

The code was quickly understood by the experienced troopers, who proceeded to turn their weapons to the various crates and secondary passages strewn throughout the hangar. A barrage of rifle, carbine, machine gun, and rocket fire tore through the debris, rapidly turning the hangar in a fifty meter radius into an open firing range.

Which was just what the Kel'Dor needed to send their grenades barreling straight at the center of the Imperial line.

First, FN-999 heard the crack of the grenades being launched.

Then, he saw eight projectiles flying straight at them from behind.

Just as they began to drop, they rose up and followed unnaturally precise angles, staying perfectly on target.

The Baron didn't have time to give an order to duck.

He barely had the time to duck himself.

For a fleeting moment, the Baron lost all sensation in his body.

It wasn't quite death, but he wasn't quite alive either.

All around him was a sea of white.

No noise could be heard, even that of his own breathing.

No smells were present, not even that of burning flesh.

FN-999 simply lay flat on his torso in a sea of white.

Am I hallucinating?

The image of a small, emaciated boy appeared in front of him.

What's wrong? asked the little boy, unconcerned about his own condition.

What isn't. quipped FN-999, fully expecting himself to be in a lucid coma.

It could be worse. responded the boy.

Before the Baron could refute his argument, the boy vanished into the sea of white, leaving him alone again.

However, his solitude was not long.

A young girl no older than sixteen appeared in front of FN-999 with her back facing him.

He recognized her auburn hair in an instant.

Tess? exclaimed the Baron, rapidly rising up to face her, his surroundings forgotten.

Remember that day? she said. I know we were both too young naive to admit it, but it was definitely a first date.

He tried to speak, but no words came out of his mouth.

Unfortunately for me and you, a hangar just like the one on Dorin got between us.

The blade of a lightsaber suddenly burst through her back.

Will you join me?

Her body went limp, vanishing into white ash before it could hit the ground.

In the blink of an eye, the sea of white turned to black, and then nothing.

​

FN-999 awoke to excruciating pain.

His low moans of agony drew a black shape nearby, quickly forming the image of a death trooper's heavily damaged, partially bent chestplate. The trooper sat down to better face the Baron, who had been placed on the floor.

"Us and my squad are the last ones left." stated the trooper. "The others were all caught in the blast."

The next thing FN-999 noticed was a sensation of weightlessness. It didn't take long for him to figure out what it was.

"Where's my armor?" asked the Baron, pausing to catch his breath.

"The explosion shredded most of it and knocked you out cold. When I started treating you, the remaining pieces were about two hundred degrees and about to burn your flesh off. Fortunately, your reflexes saved you from the worst of it, and your undersuit is still intact."

"So where's this pain coming from?"

"Second-degree burns over 90% of your body from heat radiation given off by the thermals. You're stable, and the fact that you can still feel the burns is a good thing."

"How long was I out for?"

"About five minutes. We've got thirty left until the weather forces our hand."

Crap.
​

"Then it really is just us."

"Yep. We're in a secure storage area right now, the other four have the perimeter secure for the moment. We await your orders."

The death trooper turned away and departed, carbine in hand. He began to converse through his helmet in the mysterious code of the death troopers, illegible to everyone Imperial or otherwise outside of their own squad. Losing focus, FN-999 returned to assessing his own person.

The pain from the myriad burns were beginning to numb, the veteran of countless campaigns quickly recognizing the sensation of bacta fluid and painkiller drugs coursing through his veins. Miraculously, all his limbs were intact, and his muscles seemed to function without defect. Now that his armor had been burnt off and removed, the Baron could see the hard muscles of his arms in full detail, turned slightly reddish-brown from the accumulated heat radiation.

Only then did the sensation of being armorless kick in.

Alongside his personal sword, FN-999's stormtrooper armor had been an essential therapeutic tool in his daily life. Having worn similar suits for over two thirds of his life, he had begun to see the white steel covering him as another layer of skin, protecting him from the elements, assassins, poisoning, stray bullets, and much more. Without his armor, the Baron felt as if he had been skinned, his vitals exposed to the slightest touch.

His first instinct was panic. How do we know this room is safe? Is the Jedi nearby? Are there other rebels hiding nearby? Is someone pointing a rifle at me right now? At the last thought, the Baron instantly ducked as low to the ground as possible, instinctively minimizing his profile. Only after about a minute did he realize that there were not, in fact, any hidden snipers or assassins nearby. No rebels could have possibly slipped by the most elite commandos in the Empire.

As FN-999's rational battlefield commander sense began to take over, his fear waned, a growing sense of anger taking its place. The rebels and the supposed peace-loving Jedi had just killed one hundred and ninety-five fine men and women without batting an eye. The Baron had, in his overconfidence, sent his finest troops into a death trap. If he retreated now, their deaths would be utterly pointless. Death at the hands of the Jedi would be better than retreat.

Guilt and anger combined to form a potent emotional cocktail, a new wave of adrenaline surging through FN-999's body. He rose up to stand, tanking the pain that shot from every muscle within half a meter of his hands and feet. Guided forwards by his second wind, the Baron began to march towards the black silhouettes gathered at the end of the room, where they stood guard over a door to the main hallway. As they heard their commander's footsteps, the death troopers spun around and came to attention.

"We will continue the march." declared the Baron. "Even if only one of us makes it back."

"We have under half an hour. We no longer have time to be careful. I will march out in the open to draw the attention of the Jedi and their cohort while you all creep behind me and mow down any distracted flankers. If the Jedi engages me, continue onwards. The mission can be completed even if the Jedi survive, as long as they can be isolated in one room."

The assembled squad nodded in unison, following FN-999 out the door and back into the main hallway.

While he had given the order in his usual assertive tone, the Baron couldn't help but think that it may be his last. Here he was, marching out in the middle of a rebel-infested hangar with only his officer's robes and his undersuit beneath. All it would take was a single well-placed bullet to end his life. There was no safety net, no immediate backup, no numerical superiority. It would be all too easy to repeat the fate of Top Shot on that fateful night.

Quite frankly, the thought terrified him.

All his instincts told him to find cover, to regroup and seek reinforcements, that his life was not worth a fleeting objective. Yet an equally powerful conscious counterforce struck back, his rage, grief, and desire for revenge merging into a solemn conviction to destroy everything that stood in the path of Imperial prosperity. These two powerful sensations clashed intensely within the Baron's mind even as he marched on ahead towards the center of the hall, his mind on the brink.

Ultimately, it was not caution that won the day. Nor was it emotional impulse, or even Imperial patriotism.

Instead, FN-999 found himself anchoring his conviction solely on the reality of his situation.

The Baron was a high-ranking Imperial officer behind enemy lines with a retinue that had been whittled down to a single squad. He had no count on the number of rebels still lurking in the hangar, and at least one skilled Jedi was among their ranks. The Imperials had half an hour to take the hangar they were barely halfway in, and no reinforcements were coming for at least an hour.

There was only one realistic option.

Keep on marching.

TYRANT
​

Without his armor masking his features, the Baron's impressive physique was exposed for all to see. Over two meters tall and heavily built, FN-999 menacingly loomed over his surroundings as he marched forwards, straight towards the center of the hangar. He did not falter or hesitate, striding directly forward with impeccable posture and crushing debris underfoot. The death troopers wove from cover to cover behind the Baron, blending in with the shadows as they prepared to mow down any would-be assassins.

The battle was approaching its finale.​

 

[BB-4001A]

Boomers: Iris Arani Jasper Kai'el Nyla Ven Veino Garn
Stranger Danger: Karkosuchus FN-999
[ attire ] [ lightsaber ] [ wristlink ] [ headphones ] [ holostation switch ]

Headphones On [ enemy ]​

<While the smoke is up we'll thin their numbers. Use the colors to guide you.>

New master seemed totes crazy.

Like Coren Starchaser crazy. Only chick Jedi. Zak hadn't decided yet if this was a good thing or not, other than the fact that chick Jedi was rarely, if ever, a good thing.

The telepathy and corresponding deluge of colors that pulled the boy into Iris' perception of the Force was vertigo-inducing. Following the woman down into the smoke, the Nautolan stumbled as he tried to sort out what he was seeing. Or what she was seeing. Or what was real and what was just perception.

All while stormtroopers were closing in and the adrenaline was hitting.

It was good times.

He tried to settle for just keeping pace with Iris. Figuring out how this worked. Which colors were her. Which colors were other people.

And what colors were the lightsaber. Or the blaster bolts.

Lots of colors flying all sorts of directions.

The echo of a krayt dragon's screech seemed to whistle through the air as the boy ignited his lightsaber -- which was likely lost in the sound of the explosions and fighting. The blue-colored blade spun in the boy's hand as he neatly batted away some stray bolts.

He was still getting his bearings, but for the moment he could watch his master's back.

The rest? He'd probably figure it out as he went.

 

[Iris Arani]

Jasper Kai'el | Zak Dymo | Nyla Ven | FN-999 | Karkosuchus | Nyla Ven | Veino Garn | Hall Mannarra

Perhaps it was a bit much to pull her Padawan into the meld. His emotions, his thoughts, they were as much hers as her own were his. He kept up at least. Somewhat. Enough that she could trust he wouldn't be overwhelmed from the get go. At least until the colors twisted to danger. She could handle protecting herself. Handle protecting Zak from some attacks, trust him to protect himself from others.

But the darkening colors weren't random blaster fire in the smoke. Everywhere darkened. The meld ended as she raised a hand to throw Zak behind cover.

"Scorched earth!"

Blaster fire ripped through. She brought her blades up, weaving through the blasts, trying to get to her own cover. It wasn't enough. Blaster defense was never her forte. Surprise, the smoke, they made it easy for her to thin the herd but now?

Pain ripped through her body as the bolts she couldn't deflect or evade slammed home. To her credit she turned most into grazing wounds. Lines of charred flesh across her skin. Painful, but not debilitating. Not the one to her chest, though. Pain rocketed through, a familiar sensation from the last time she'd been shot. The Jedi jumpsuit she wore was the only reason she wasn't just dead.

That, and the explosion.

The Kel Dor were still fighting. A saving grace, all things considered. She popped open her pink saber, letting the crystal within rest in her hand. Press to her chest as she started to focus on healing. Slow her panicked breathing. Dull the pain. Focus.

Focus.

"Zak-!"

With the dull of pain came focus. Her Padawan. The silence of blasters was deafening in the ringing of the explosion. Cover had spared her from any shrapnel, but what of the boy? Her charge? She scrambled up to her feet, wincing for a moment as she did move. Pain. Right. She took a breath to still her mind. Zak was fine. He had to be fine. She had to trust that.

That, and as she stood up she became all too aware of the giant of a man striding towards her. Perhaps by chance she emerged from her cover just as he emerged from his own. Her odd eyes focused up on the man that loomed well over half a meter above her. Lips thinned. A knight? No, there was no sense in the colors around him. Bait? There were more colors behind him, keeping to cover.

A Kel Dor above popped his head up, rifle aiming at the large target.

"Do-" To late. From the shadows another shot met them. A smoldering body fell from what remained of the rafters, sans the head that had once been on their shoulders. Death troopers.

"Retreat. Back towards the others. Regroup with Jasper." They hadn't fired on her yet. Why, she wasn't sure. But if they were as deadly as rumors made them out to be, they couldn't stay. Surprise had won them time, but that time had passed.

"Zak, lead them." She slotted the crystal back within her saber, igniting the pink blade once again. Iris held the blade to the side, cradling her other arm more towards her chest. Moving the arm pulled at the wound.

Good thing she learned early on to use either hand as a dominant one. Her gaze never left the armorless troopers, narrowed in focus.

"Your siege failed. Pull what troops you have left and leave."

 

[Karkosuchus]

​

Spoiler: Equipment

Thermal Detonators​	Grenades​	Repulsor Throwing Razor​	Caltrop​	Fire Blade​	Energy Bola​
Field Security Overloader​	Dissuader KD-30​	.48 Caliber Enforcer Pistol​	R-20 Scatterblaster​	Arkanian Energy Shield​	DC-17m Interchangeable Weapon System​
Stouker concussion rifle​	Iron Shell Armor​	Gatling Gauntlet​	Radiation Cannon​	Brass Knuckles​	The Swamp Vanquisher​
S-30 "Retention" Anti-Disruption System​	​	​	​	​

The Smell of the Battlefield happening around him brought further bloodlust into his eyes. It was clear that the Stormtrooper Legion underneath (FN-999) was pushing onwards despite the rapid battle occuring at the front entrance and the sound of explosions. He would be paid either way should the Dorin Resistance or the Empire prevail due to it causing a distraction for his employers to continue their operations in the northern territories. Lifting his snout up as something drew his attention in the form of several familiar scents. They were coming from both Iris Arani and Zak Dymo whom had caused him such humiliation and loss of respect within the criminal underworld. It was the time to crush them underneath his firm claws and send their corpses back to coruscant in boxes.

Although he would have to cross over resistance fortifications to reach them but this would not deter him from revenge. Moving through the complex took time but his large size provided him quite an advantage over others in terms of fighting ability. Leaping on top of the spaceport and viewing around for a brief moment until the light of a lightsaber caught his eye. Leaping across small sections towards the sound of renewed battle.

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

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

1st post

DIRE HOUR 2: SPARK OF RESISTANCE
AN AGE OF STRIFE STORY

SHIELD_ONE
LORD-REGENT OF THE EMPIRE
GRAND-TRIUMVIR OF THE TARKINIST ADMINISTRATION
GOVERNOR-CHIEFTAIN OF GALIDRAAN III

Tags
Annor E-059 Erin E-141 Liene E-230 Sedna Pulsar
Katja Javik Rika Hiro Ignacious Korvan

FATE OF THE REALM VI: IN THE WAKE OF TOR VALUM - PROLOGUE

THRONE ROOM, FORT IMPERATOR,
RAVELIN, BASTION (EARLY 878 ABY)

Everything changes in life, this I know.... Like the seasons.
Just a shame its all changing too fast now.

Much had been weighing on the Lord-Regent's mind at the time.

And much like all in the Galaxy around him, Barran was thinking of an uncertain future.
​

With grander outbreaks of war expected on the horizon, the threat of the Galactic Alliance at their borders was growing ever more imposing with every turn of the season, readying not only for the Triumvirate, but for the Maw, the Hutts and the Sith as well. Just as the Empire herself was preparing for the worst with just about everyone, but their greatest threat in the Galaxy in turn had significantly more allies to bring the fight by end of 877 ABY, ringing especially true after the old Woad's failed invasion of Ilum. Plans were to be made for the uncertain future, but the Steward of Imperium, in all his meagre, learned wisdom, was choosing to discuss that future away from prying eyes and ears alike.

I must return home....
To the Galidraan Sytem.

To my beloved An-Cridheachan - one last time.​

Sitting on the central of the three marble Triumvir seats, and with his wife Lady Carla sat draped across his lap in her noble, silken fineries, (caressing her husband's cheek with one hand and drinking with a glass of Corellian champagne with the other) Lord Erskine would gaze into her eyes for a while as he nursed his first drink of whiskey since his fight against Shai Maji on Ilum. The doctors had finally cleared the Lord-Regent to ingest beverages and solid, spicy foods once and for all, and though he was still trying to gain full lower-body function at the time, a walking-stick would always serve little and less to dampen a man's spirits in the days following clearance to eat savoury, filling cooked meals for the first time in almost eight months. And not even his mirror's visage of his scarred, skinny frame could get in the way of that, not whilst the appetite was there to be indulged as any Imperial ruler would in the old Woad's stead.

[Greetings Milord - Lady Carla.... Is it time?]
[Yes, my friend. Thank you for bringing the tigress. Take a seat by the bookshelf for now.]
[This is fine.... Holocall, Milord?]
[Exactly. Won't take long though.]​

'Misha, come to nana-'

Though the command was heard and obeyed by the massive Mantellian tigress, Lady Carla's words were interrupted in the end by the double-doors of the throne room, creaking inward from the outside as the scarred face of Sir Marten Wyll entered, closing behind him as the other of the last-remaining IMPAF knights brought the Lord-Regent a rather fetching walking-stick. Starting,'Greetings Lady Carla - Milord.', Knight-Commander Wyll paused to express well-drilled custom in saluting both Woads, then bowed respectfully to the ruler and his beloved consort, pausing once more before rising to present in formal gesture of bearing a gift from the old Woad's cousin. With head and torso bowed in well-drilled posture, the scar-faced Thyrsian continued,'I come bearing a gift from Galidraan, along with my devoted presence henceforth.', holding low posture momentarily before rising to pace forth with a reverent demeanour.

'This was wrought by someone in your family.... And I think we both know which someone that might be, Milord.'

Songsteel, the most precious metal on Galidraan III, forged, blackened and shaped into a walking-cane, and to a quality that one may have though fit for a king. However, the true wonder had been carven and shaped prior to setting into the walking-stick itself, taking on the form of a lion's head cut from a deep-blue kyber crystal. Inlaid atop a golden circular base that was wrought onto the cane itself, the octagonal rim bore Arabesh engravings on all sides of the high-quality, precious-on-precious metal, inscribed with the words,"Ave Rurik", filling both sides of all eight golden corners - issuing an Imperial warcry at every last angle at the top of the walking-stick itself.

'Its beautiful.... I'll be sure to get in touch with the the junior branch when we deal with the formalities at home. But still, thank you for bringing this to me, Sir Marten. I'm glad you're here.... Now, I know for a fact it would have been difficult prying yourself away from the home-world, but now - I need your help to protect me in my brief return to mine own.'

Ten Minutes later....

'Alright, now that we're all on the same page.... I think its high-time we get these Holo-calls out the way, hm?'​

With everyone around him nodding in agreement, Lord Erskine smirked at nobody in particular as he considered the wonder of getting back to his usual, sly ways once more, and after so long at that. The painkiller prescriptions had been weaning and waning off, slowly but surely, and in the hours following his first cooked meal in almost a year, much and more of what was foggy before had become clear, comprehensive and to top it all off - all was becoming much easier to articulate and recognise as fact in the process.

'Been a while since I last saw my Stormchaser in those eyes. Good t'see ye.'

That spark of life was casting flames anew, bringing fire from behind the piercing blue irises that intimidated many a stern-hearted warrior in the past.

'I honestly assumed this part of me dead before now, but I'm glad of the revelation all the same.... Thank you, Carla.'

And there he sat, with the broadcasting plinth scanning his visage, (skinny though it was at the time) with his tigress laying at his feet whilst his wife remained in his embrace, draped across his Regent's uniform as the first connection found it's digital tether. With a glass of Cladhan '14-cask in his right hand, and his walking-stick sceptre in the other, the old Woad looked like a man of his station ought to have looked, and for the very first time. Gifting the holographic plinth (and all those he would call that night) with a brief glimpse of how the Lord-Regent may have appeared as an Emperor, Barran appeared more regal than ever before, and for the first time since his days as the Lord-General of IMPAF - appearing as one of his station ought to have appeared.

'Group call - Annor E-059, Erin E-141, Liene E-230.... Commence!'

<"Greetings, Elites! I know I've been quiet, but I aim to change that - I want to be loud again! But first, I must ask that we maintain silence a little longer, though at least only until you come find us on Galidraan III, you know where.... There is much we need to discuss, my young friends. Much an' more an' perhaps then some, but before that - your current deployments should be completed naturally, then you can come find us.... Good luck out there. Barran out!">​

'End transmission.'

In times like these, despite the oddness of where and who his worries went to, the old Woad couldn't help but ponder on the potential harshness of the Elites-Troopers' future, caring little for the fact his enemies would one day cite the Elites' training as evidence of Lord Erskine's evil deeds. But in keeping his own as close to his inner-circle as possible, and in giving them voices enough to lend freedom to speak their minds and make their own choices, Barran at least knew the Empire's experiments would one day learn to forgive him; and even if it was fated to be long after he died in the future, the Lord-Regent was comfortable knowing he'd die happy after doing his best to make life as comfortable as possible for them, though he knew the rest of the Galaxy's great factions would never see it that way. Likely to brand him ghoulish, insidious or worse, Lord Erskine had been preparing himself for the worst since the first time he met Annor, knowing what sort of Hell awaited for it.

'My crosses to bear, though there's no need to explain it to people who know this already.... Just the way it is though.'

Inhaling a deep intake of air through his nostrils, then briefly closing his eyes to clear his head of all the noise, the Steward of Imperium exhaled slowly to cast his sins to the deepest corners of the back of his mind again, attaining clean, laser-like focus once more - straightening up his seated posture in readiness to make the second and last call of the evening.

'Call - Ignacious Korvan.... Commence!'

<"Greetings from Fort Imperator, Lord Ignacious! You an' I have much to discuss, though no such thing will be done on the surface of our capital planet - an' you known why.... Meet me on Galidraan III, come to the Heartlands, you'll find me waiting in my former seat of power.... Stray from prying eyes, eavesdropping ears an' the likes. We're going dark for a while, like ghosts until I say otherwise. Barran out!">​

'End transmission.'

 

[FN-999]

Objective: Finish the Job
Complement: 5x Death troopers | 1/2 of a 908th Legion
Allies: Empire: Hall Mannarra | Keylee Linth | Other: Karkosuchus | Open
Enemies: GA: Jasper Kai'el | Nyla Ven | Veino Garn | Zak Dymo
Interacting With: Karkosuchus | Iris Arani | Open

At the sound of a lightsaber igniting, the Baron froze in place.
​

In front of him stood a humanoid Jedi, a young woman whose features were dwarfed by his own. In her hands was a pink lightsaber, the same hue as the blade that had struck down several of his troops earlier. Clearly, the two Jedi were one in the same. She would likely be a powerful foe, likely even a match for the death troopers. His sense of unease returned as he realized that he stood unarmored before the warrior of the Force, his presence the only thing keeping her from intercepting his last elites. As much as he instinctively wanted their help, FN-999 knew that they each had a role to play. The death troopers would finish the mission while the Baron distracted their most powerful foe, thus ensuring that tens of thousands of soldiers on the ground could be resupplied.

In comparison, his life was a minuscule concern.

"Your siege failed. Pull what troops you have left and leave."

FN-999 didn't waste a second considering her offer.

"Our siege is not over yet." rebuked the Baron. "It is you who should leave."

Normally, he would stop talking there and start fighting, eager to spill Jedi blood. In recent months however, he had found himself increasingly interested in the conversations the Jedi had with their foes. FN-999 was still a fairly new noble, his political influence barely extending beyond Borosk. By understanding the rhetoric of the Empire's foes, he could make himself more useful in a diplomatic setting rather than a strictly military one. Politics still confused him more than any battlefield, but slowly but surely, he was learning.

"If you pull out what troops you have left and leave, I can guarantee the safety of you and your troops." declared FN-999, seeking to appeal to the paternal instinct he so commonly found in Jedi.

"Your arm has already been wounded. What good will it do if we fight and you wound more than just that? All while the death troopers eliminate each and every one of your comrades. Your numbers have been diminished as well, and they are in short supply. Do you really think you and your ragtag crew can take on half an Imperial legion?"

"If you want to protect those you care about, then leave this world at once. I have no reason to lie. The longer you stay here, the longer the 908th will have to expend its precious resources besieging the port. Walking away benefits both of us."

"So, what do -"

The Baron was interrupted by the sound of something large bounding through the rafters.

His vision shot up immediately, a death trooper a few meters to his right peeking out to ensure the Jedi couldn't surprise him.

A huge reptile stared down at the pair, some sort of rifle in its hands. A flashback to the Ssi-Ruuk horde that had decimated everything he had held dear briefly flashed through the Baron's head, his legs quivering as he remembered the terrible sight. However, he soon snapped back to his senses upon realizing that the reptile still stood above them. Its clothes bore no resemblance to any Alliance uniform, and no lightsaber hung off the creature's numerous pockets. Still, he could not rule out a hostile third party. Best case scenario, the reptile was a merc sent to hunt the Jedi, and the Baron would have to figure out how to best communicate and cooperate with a creature that might or might not speak Basic. Worst case scenario, the reptile had been given a bounty on him, adding a second formidable foe for FN-999 to face.

[Get a lock on him.] whispered FN-999 to the death troopers over his helmet comms.

A death trooper slid beneath the shadow of a nearby crate and aimed their rifle up at the creature, but held their fire.

"We've got company." called the Baron to the Jedi.

"Identify yourself!" demanded FN-999 to the creature above.

 

[Jasper Kai'el]

Dorin
Allies: Iris Arani , Zak Dymo, Nyla Ven
Enemies: FN-999, Karkosuchus, Hall Mannarra

Jasper had promptly gotten to work, spreading his supply of thermal detonators out amongst the Kel-Dor resistance. It wasn't long, however, before something in the air was off. He passed off the remaining detonators and turned to Nyla, drawing his energy bow.

"Something's wrong," he reasoned. "I'm going to higher ground."

He promptly began to scale a nearby watchtower to get a better lay of the land, his bow held between his clenched teeth. From the top, he got a pretty good idea what was going down. Iris and Zak were in the distance, their position surrounded by death troopers and a man who seemed to be their commander, who was unarmored. A familiar reptile was bounding towards them, which was also not great. Jasper needed to act quickly. One arrow drawn, one arrow fired. The plasma projectile sailed across the battlefield, aimed directly at the exposed shoulder of FN-999. Then another, this time at Karkosuchus, hopefully to knock him off balance. Jasper pulled out a com link, one tied directly to the Lonestar 1.

<<Blip, fire up the engines. We need to get the hell out of here.>>

Iris seemed to have sent Zak his direction. If Jasper did anything today, make sure the boy got home was certainly going to be one of them. He jumped down from his perch and ignited his lightsaber, setting off towards their location to meet Zak half way.

 

[BB-4001A]

Boomers: Jasper Kai'el Iris Arani Nyla Ven
Stranger Danger: FN-999 Karkosuchus
[ attire ] [ lightsaber ] [ wristlink ] [ headphones ] [ holostation switch ]

There was lots of variety to blaster deflection.

Since blasters were the most common weapon in the galaxy, Jedi pretty much introduced kids to blaster deflection at, like, Day 1 of Jedi-ing. Was that a thing? Learning to Jedi?

Whatever. There was Shii-cho blaster deflection technique, which pretty much tried to absorb or disintegrate the bolt with the lightsaber blade. Then there was Zak's favorite, which was Shien. It was basically an entire lightsaber style devoted to blaster deflection. Usually bouncing them straight back to whatever was doing the blasting. Then there was Soresu, which just deflected the bolt away, but that was boring. Because Soresu was basically the lightsaber style that was known from the Core to the Outer Rim as being boring AF.

Given the smoke and the cover, Zak was favoring Shii-cho. He might get creative with some Shien, but it was largely guesswork on where the blaster bolt was going.

Lightsabering was Zak's strong suit though. Headphones on, music cranked up, the Force Sense guided the boy as his body seemed to dance between the blaster bolts. The blue blade spun with a flourish, as the boy focused on trying to keep some of the pressure off of Master Ara...

...an invisible force -- or the Force he supposed -- suddenly slammed into the boy, pitching him through the air as Iris Arani threw the boy just as the intensity of the blaster fire dialed up to eleven.

Zak faceplanted as he was thrown behind a piece of the ceiling that had caved in during the earlier explosions. He felt something pop off his head. A gasp froze in his throat, his head popping up as his large, black eyes watched the headphones arc through the air...

...and get completely shredded by the blaster fire.

"Oh, kark."

Pulling himself up into a low crouch, the boy looked around anxiously as he tried to re-orient himself to what was happening. Where was Master Arani? Where were the stormtroopers?

At least he'd kept his grip on his lightsaber. This time anyway.

Wait, there was Master Arani.

"Retreat. Back towards the others. Regroup with Jasper."

Okay. This wasn't too bad. Master Arani was alive. He was alive.

Now he just needed to find Jasper.

And then hope that maybe the Imperials would start blaring some Top 40. Was that a thing? It should totally be a thing. Because it would be totes appreciated about now.

With that, the Nautolan just tried to run back toward Jasper's ship. And hope that the Dread Pirate Cyborg-Arm was somewhere nearby.

 

[Iris Arani]

Jasper Kai'el | Zak Dymo | Nyla Ven | FN-999 | Karkosuchus

She listened in a cold silence to what the trooper said. There was no deceit in his words. Just letting them leave, if he had the choice, he probably would. Iris doubted his higher ups would allow it, but to preserve life, wasn't it a choice for her to take up? The few rebels still in the room, though, they didn't seem to care for the idea. By their colors alone, they were angry. It took a moment for it to click in her head.

They were being run out of their homes.

Movement. Iris's gaze shifted up to the rafters as an all too familiar croc made an appearance. So the Imperials were hiring their ilk, now? Her eyes narrowed. She'd already decided no, but this had tipped the scale. The fact FN and his troops were pointing their blasters towards the Bounty Hunter just went to show how in the dark the troopers were of their higher ups.

Jasper's bolt flew by her head, giving the answer before she could even think to respond herself. With that, there was no more time to delay or talk. Iris's expression soured as she slipped forward behind the shot, bringing her saber around in a rapid thrust for the Trooper's chest. Letting the Force flow through her in the process, make it as quick as possible. Strike while he might be distracted, that was the only choice she had now that Jasper had forced her hand.

Hopefully Zak would be able to get back before the room got flooded with blaster fire all over again.

 

[Karkosuchus]

​

Spoiler: Equipment

Thermal Detonators​	Grenades​	Repulsor Throwing Razor​	Caltrop​	Fire Blade​	Energy Bola​
Field Security Overloader​	Dissuader KD-30​	.48 Caliber Enforcer Pistol​	R-20 Scatterblaster​	Arkanian Energy Shield​	DC-17m Interchangeable Weapon System​
Stouker concussion rifle​	Iron Shell Armor​	Gatling Gauntlet​	Radiation Cannon​	Brass Knuckles​	The Swamp Vanquisher​
S-30 "Retention" Anti-Disruption System​	​	​	​	​

His foot slammed into the last rafter of the spaceport as the forward momentum was stopped. Glowing orange eyes were cast down like a spotlight onto FN-999 peering deep into him then over to Iris Arani whose mere presence caused him to snarl. Defeating and killing the Jedi would gain him a further reputation within the criminal underworld and send a clear message to the Sword of the Jedi Valery Noble who had caused him humiliation on Denon. Karkosuchus was not a fool as to blindly jump down to engage them without looking around at the surroundings and the different smells in the air.

The voice of the Stormtrooper Commander drew his attention in a rather amusing way, wanting to know his identity. He was about to respond when a plasma projectile from Jasper Kai'el slammed into his armored back. Causing him to roar once more not in pain but in fury. Putting his concussion rifle away within one of his many holsters and withdrawing the Swamp Vanquisher. A single clawed finger pressed a button as the numerous generators were brought to life. Jumping down from the rafters as soon as Iris Arani made her move to slay FN-999.

A crack was heard on the spaceport floor as the hammer struck sending a full-power shockwave in all directions.

Zak Dymo

 

[FN-999]

Objective: Finish the Job
Complement: 5x Death troopers | 1/2 of a 908th Legion
Allies: Empire: Karkosuchus | Open
Enemies: GA: Iris Arani | Jasper Kai'el | Nyla Ven | Zak Dymo
Interacting With: Karkosuchus | Iris Arani | Jasper Kai'el | Open

Distracted by the reptile above, FN-999 didn't notice the glow of the plasma arrow until it was meters away from him.

​

His intuition immediately fired up, his body tilting to veer to the side, away from the arrow's path. However, the archer had fired a great shot, and the arrow connected with his left shoulder, piercing flesh and lodging itself within his bone.

Immediately, the Baron staggered a step backwards, his shoulder flaring up with intense pain as the arrow found its mark. With a swift, desperate pull, FN-999 ripped the arrow out of his shoulder and tossed it to the ground, his palms sizzling where he had grabbed the projectile. The only bit of good news was that the arrow had burnt out most of the nerve endings in his left shoulder after about ten seconds, the pain rapidly dissipating and numbness taking its place.

Just in time for the Jedi in front of him to make her move.

She moved directly at him in a blur of pink, likely intending to cut him down in a single blow.

The Baron would not be intimidated.

His full attention was now on the Jedi in front of him, rapidly predicting her forward movement. No longer encumbered by his armor, FN-999 was even more agile than usual, and in a fraction of a second he was able to slide to the right, the Jedi's thrust landing far to his left.

"And here I thought the Jedi Code forbade killing an unarmed opponent." quipped FN-999 before making his opening move.

With the two now in close quarters and the Jedi's initial boost of speed spent, the Baron had an advantage in strength, and he would use it to the best of his ability. From the Jedi's left, he wound up a lightning-fast haymaker punch and launched it directly at her head, hoping to either force her onto the defensive or break her skull. Either way, it would keep the Jedi occupied and the death troopers unmolested.

With their commander now engaged in personal combat, the death trooper squad advanced forwards. The squad rapidly deduced that the reptile was an ally and rushed forwards to assist it, picking off exposed rebel sharpshooters from the shadows.

[S29i3nj.] warned a death trooper in their encrypted tongue as the shockwave from the reptile's descent came their way.

Each trooper rushed behind a crate or sturdy obstacle, the shockwave travelling harmlessly around them. The moment it dissipated, the squad continued their advance, leaving their commander behind as they fired on the reptile's assailants.

 

[Iris Arani]

Jasper Kai'el | Zak Dymo | Nyla Ven | FN-999 | Karkosuchus

"Defenseless, not unarmed."

True enough, he certainly wasn't defenseless, even without his armor. His haymaker came down in an instant, the Force screaming of the danger it posed in the back of her mind. Don't get hit. Pain pulled at her mind as she moved her free hand, tugging at the wound in her shoulder as she pulled at the Force, all to send his blow overhead as she closed the rest of that distance. Turned her blade towards him with a flick of her wrist. It didn't take power to cut through something. Or someone.

End it quick. Stop him, then the troopers. What the plan in the long term was she had no idea, but there was no time to think.

Danger. Her strike never came as she instead extinguished her blade and leapt back. Brought her arms up to defend herself as the shockwave came from the lizard's hammer. Throwing her farther back from the tyrant of a man. Every second that she didn't finish this fight was another death. The troopers continued to advance, easily picking off the rebels. They weren't soldiers. Just men and women refusing to be driven from their homes.

They didn't stand a chance.

Landing on her feet, cradling her arm to her chest again, she reached out with the other. Gripped something, anything. Loose debris, chucked it right for FN-999. She just had to trust the others would be able to help.

 

[Jasper Kai'el]

Dorin
Tags: Iris Arani , Zak Dymo, Nyla Ven , FN-999, Karkosuchus

Jasper was quick to come across Zak, who was running in his general direction. Surprisingly, the boy didn't look too shaken, which was good. It meant that he could take orders without going into shock.

"There you are," Jasper sighed with relief. "The ship is back there and getting warmed up as we speak. Run in and strap up. Our exit is gonna be hot. I'll be right there after I help Iris."

With that, he sent the Nautolan on his way, making his way over to his friend. The situation was bad. The ground was torn up, presumably by his reptilian friend, and the death troopers were now firing on the rebel forces. One of Iris's arms was pretty messed up, and she was using the other to pelt their commander with debris. Mustering the energy that he could, Jasper took hold of a nearby speeder, though it was unrecognizable as a vehicle by this point, which had been flipped up and used as cover by a pair of now deceased Kel-Dor. His attention was on the lizard. With a moment to compose himself, Jasper hurled the mangled durasteel at the reptilian bounty hunter.

"Iris," he shouted over to his friend, now working to deflect incoming blaster bolts. "I got Zak in the direction of the ship, but we gotta go. I've got the last of the detonators out to the rebels, and I have no clue when they're gonna use'em. The last thing we want is to be caught in-"

The distant priming of grenades came. It was a last ditch effort on the side of the rebels, one out of pure desperation. Only ten were thrown, sailing over the two Jedi's heads and scattering about the rubble, many disappearing from sight in the chaos. It seemed to be all they had left.

"Shit," Jasper hissed. "We need to move. Now."

 

[BB-4001A]

Boomers: Jasper Kai'el Iris Arani Nyla Ven
Stranger Danger: FN-999 Karkosuchus
[ attire ] [ lightsaber ] [ wristlink ] [ headphones ] [ holostation switch ]

The hardest part about being a Padawan Menace was learning when not to listen to adults, which was most of the time, and when to listen to adults, which was a pretty exceptional circumstance.

All things considered, these circumstances seemed to be pretty exceptional. Also explosional. Which, Zak wasn't sure if explosional was even a word, but if it was a word, then this chit right here was explosional.

"The ship is back there and getting warmed up as we speak. Run in and strap up. Our exit is gonna be hot. I'll be right there after I help Iris."

The Dread Pirate Cyborg-Arm didn't wait for a response, running back the way that Zak had come -- toward Iris. Zak wanted to help as well, but no music meant that Zak was going to be a pretty poor padawan.

Well, an even more poor example than usual.

Master Iris could be hurt.

What about Jasper? Zak hadn't even thought to size up the older Jedi. And what about the other chick that had been with them? Was she okay?

Zak may not be able to hold off the encroaching horde of Imperials, but what he could do is find out if Jasper's totally-not-a-pirate Corellian ship had a medbay. Or at least a medpac? Something.

So the boy ran.

Because, honestly, at this point, he wasn't sure what else to do.