Invasion The Clash of Ideals // NEO invasion of DE owned Ithor and Selnesh

[Vreegan Fett]

// NEO Invasion of DE owned Ithor and Selnesh //
// The Clash of Ideals //

​

// OVERVIEW //

In the aftermath of the Mandalorian Assault on Naboo, the Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders, under the leadership of Mand'alor the Anointed Carduul Akahl , have acquired essential plasma resources to launch a major offensive against one of the galactic powers in the region.

The focus of the Great Crusade is directed towards the biodiverse planet of Ithor, as well as the Imperial Prison Planet of Selnesh, both firmly under the control of the Dark Empire. Despite having negotiated a treaty in secrecy, the Mandalorian Field Marshals have observed the turmoil resulting from the Spark of Rebellion: Empire's Edge | TF vs DE.

Having concluded that the Dark Empire is currently weak and susceptible to an assault by the Galactic Alliance, there is little need for the Crusade to entangle itself with an unreliable alliance.

The Mand'alor is convinced that by capturing these planets, they can establish a stronghold from which to launch further campaigns into Imperial territory, thereby destabilizing their adversaries and restoring Mandalorian strength in the process.

With their battle fleets assembled and their warriors ready for combat, the Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders stand poised to unleash their might upon the unsuspecting defenders of Ithor and Selnesh.

As dawn breaks over these lush worlds, the atmosphere is charged with anticipation—the moment of reckoning is at hand, and the sound of Mandalorian war drums resonates throughout the galaxy. Will the Neo-Crusaders achieve success in their campaign, or will the entrenched forces of the Dark Empire prove too formidable to overcome?

// Objective One //

​

The Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders have strategically set their sights on Ithor not only for its rich resources but also for its advanced technological capabilities, particularly its experimental bio-weapons projects that leverage the unique flora of the planet and the persistent rumors of top-secret scientific facilities dedicated to synthesizing potent biological weapons.

By seizing control of these facilities, the Neo-Crusaders aim to harness the cutting-edge technology developed there, enabling them to create a new class of weaponry that could turn the tide in their favor against the Imperials.

The ongoing battle around Ithor is not merely a skirmish for territory; it is a critical strategic maneuver to gain the upper hand in the larger conflict. The Imperials, aware of the planet's significance, desperately attempt to defend their interests by engaging in atmospheric battles among the floating cities that dot Ithor's skyline.

// Objective Two //

The Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders have identified the Imperial Detention Center as their primary target on the planet of Selnesh, viewing it not only as a symbol of the oppressive regime that has long subjugated the local populace but also as a strategic asset that, if captured, could significantly bolster the ranks of the Mandalorians, allowing them to push ahead with their campaign.

The detention center serves as a key facility for the imprisonment and indoctrination of political dissidents, rebels, and those who oppose the Empire's rule, effectively stifling resistance and dissent.

By launching an assault on this prison stronghold, the Mandalorian forces aim to liberate these prisoners, galvanizing local support and rallying disenfranchised citizens to their cause.

This operation is rooted in a broader strategy to destabilize the Imperial presence on Selnesh, weaken their morale, and create a ripple effect that could inspire similar uprisings across neighboring systems.

// Objective Three //

BYOO.....Whatever floats ya fancy.

 

[Antipater]

SELNESH
IMPERIAL DETENTION CENTER - CONTROL ROOM ALPHA​

Antipater examined his weapon. Depleted utterly. Useless. He cast it aside like a dead thing, and it went skittering across the grated floor. “Status report.”

He waited in the silence for an answer. None came. The ensigns were dead. His stormtroopers were dead. But so were the Neocrusaders sent to seize this post. They had fought - and died - like animals. Would it have been they expended their bloodlust on the Alliance and not Imperial personnel, Imperial assets.

The Neocrusaders' most recent movements had led him to expect this outcome. They had stagnated, only for Akahl to take charge. But his leadership was unproven. So at first he lashed out at random: Kashyyyk, and then Naboo. Two minor victories, like a stumbling man searching for something to grasp.

They would want... No, need something greater. The Alliance was the grand prize, but Akahl was no fool. He would not throw himself against an opponent at this critical juncture if he did not like his odds. The Alliance had humiliated the Crusaders once already on Manaan. They could not afford a repeat performance.

The Empire was a softer target. Entrenched, but weakened. A safer bet. Antipater would not call it cowardice. Only prudence.

He heard something issue a rattling cough, and was disappointed to see a Mandalorian warrior still writhing. Antipater moved towards him, and he vainly tried to squirm away. The droid loomed over him anyway.

“That patterning,” Antipater intoned, kneeling down. “You are one of Sig Dryggo’s foundlings.”

The Mandalorian paused. Surprised, perhaps. His helmet rendered him nearly as inscrutable as Antipater's own faceplate. The droid reached out and roughly removed the warrior’s helmet. A young man. Younger than most would draft. Terribly frightened, as all young soldiers are in their final moments.

This helmet was not pure beskar, judging from the weight. Merely an alloy. There was only so much of that metal to go around. Not nearly enough for the swelling ranks of the crusade.

He took the helmet in both hands and raised it. “I enjoyed his edification.”

The foundling had enough time to shout before Antipater brought the helmet crashing down. One blow was sufficient: bone buckled and shattered, flesh mangled into unrecognizable ruin. There was a small spurt of viscera, and all that impacted him was vaporized by an in-built defense grid.

Yes. Only an alloy. And so were these Mandalorians themselves an alloy. Their old savagery had been tempered with a higher cunning. They were a more credible threat now than they had ever been. He stood again, in time to observe a shadow darken the doors to the control room.

Attn: Carduul Akahl​

 

[Darth Imperius]

Ithor | Tafanda Bay
Dark Empire

• Objective: I. Operation Skyrim
  • Defend the Floating Cities
  • Secure any research
• Tags:
  • Allied: Open to Ground / CAS
  • Adversary: Feydrik Munin | Open to Ground / CAS
• Theme: Dawn of War

The Ascendant Order's forces had arrived on Ithor only hours before the attack would begin. The reconnaissance network that Imperius had maintained since the days of the Empire holding some value still and having him given scarce enough intel on Mandalorian movements, his mind having done the rest of calculations and probabilities to conclude that their strike would not go against the Alliance or elsewhere, but against them. He mobilised whatever he could after the Battle of Bastion and moved to Ithor. It was a gamble but it being seated in the center of the Dark Imperial - Mandalorian front, it offered the quickest option to respond to any assaults by the warrior cult.

So far it had been a rather side-by-side relationship with the Dark Imperials, their aimless demands as ominous and antagonistic was one could expect from burnt, upset children. He considered if his approach of upfront honesty had been a mistake, but it was what he could bring to them after having experienced nothing but smoke and hot air from the petty Sith that came before. They shared more than they would want to believe and to admit to. But politics were for another arena and he was not here to worry about little bureaucrats and administrators haggling about paragraphs and articles. War was his craft.

Darth Imperius stepped out from his shuttle, setting foot on Ithor for the first time. Strictly speaking, he still did not. He arrived on Tafanda Bay, the capital and largest of the Herdships the Ithroians called home and pinnacle of symbiosis for technology and nature. The concept was entirely outlandish to him. Nature was conflict and it required no artificial balancing act by its inhabitants, a sign of weakness and submission rather than of self-assurance. It mattered not. War made all things equal and today he had to defend this humongous city with limited forces. A herculean task he did not only relished but embraced.

With him came Khaion Legion, the 2nd Ascendant Legion, and the Nemesis Legion itself, at least every unit he could scramble together in the short time he had. That gave him about six thousand soldiers of high quality in addition to whatever militias and garrison the planet had to offer. The platforms were a tactical nightmare. And instead of committing to defending every inch of them, he kept his forces as close to the center of it was possible while sending all garrison and militia forces outwards, especially towards the starship landing platforms, where they could make every assault landing at least more difficult and delay so his units could move out and repel the attack. The mobility and multitude of attack options gave the Neo Crusaders a large advantage, but they had no place to retreat to in the end.

Clad in black plate armor, towering above anyone nearby except for the group of Extremis Paladins, Darth Imperius stood in the great, central atrium. On his back was Anathema, the sheathed greatsword, that recently saw its hunger more than saturated on the world of Enarc, at his hip hung his lightsaber, its seemingly broken hilt looking like it had gone through its last battle already. His pale face was exposed, black eyes looking around from within the deep sockets of his pale, sickly skull. He was surrounded by ranks upon ranks of red-clad Legionaries, Ascendant and Nemesis alike, waiting for their orders to deploy and engage the attackers.

Equipment
| Lightsaber | Greatsword | Armor | Amulet | Shuttle |
Order of Battle
| Nemesis Legionaries | Knights Tenebrus | Ascendant Legion |​

 

[Brent Warnel]

ITHOR

Ithor, a world full of life and mystery. Great herdships plied the air, soaring above verdant jungles and water. The Ithorian people tended this garden world, proving to the galaxy that technology and life could live hand in hand with the destruction of one or the other.

Above this lush world, in the dark of space, new stars appeared. Pinpricks of light popped into existence in the deep of space, causing a general hubbub among the masses who happened to be looking up. Among the government, there was not only a hubbub but outright panic. For no new stars were forming in the skies above Ithor; it was something far more dangerous.

The Mandalorians. For Mand'alor had called, and the Crusade had answered.

——

"What are our orders, Kelhav?"

"While the Crusade brings this world into the fold, attacking herdships and major facilities, we'll have a different objective," Brent told the Vod around him. "Here," he said, holding up a holo with a small science facility projected, "Is our target. A small science facility that we have intel is making new bio-chemical weapons. Ones we could use to further the Crusade's goals. Our mission is to infiltrate and take the classified data."

"As you command."

"Pilot, get us to our landing area, stay in the shadow of the capital ships and blockade runners until we break into low-orbit."

"Copy."

The shuttle accelerated after it dropped out of Hyperspace, keeping pace with the more prominent escorts that began to engage the defenders of Ithor. Vibrations through the metal and evasive maneuvers were all that told the men inside they were in an active engagement zone.

Soon, the shuttle began to rock violently, and the Pilot stated, "We are entering the atmosphere now." Sudden drops in altitude and hard turns signaled they were defending against AA fire from the ground. After several minutes, however, things got quiet, and the shuttles flight smoothed out.

Not long after, Brent could feel the shuttle's deceleration, signaling to the troops aboard that they were about to make landfall.

"Scan your sectors. We need the scientists alive and the data unharmed. Kill anyone else," Brent commanded the team.

A series of clicks over the comm channel let him know the men had received and acknowledged his orders. They spread out into the dense jungle, weapons ready and waiting. In the distance, the science facility perimeter could be seen, and the Mandalorians quickly advanced toward it.

Detritus Ren

 

[Nelliel Kryze]

MNV-52 'Beviin' Class Space Superiority Fighter

​

| Location | Aboard The Indomitable, Ithor Orbit
| Focus | Aerial Superiority

Nel had never been to Ithor before, but she always heard stories from other spacers and pilots that she came across in bars about their fabled orbital cities. The Mandalorian pilot leaned back in her cockpit with her fingers drumming against her helmet that rested on her lap, foot bouncing up and down in anticipation. A new fight against new enemies, more adrenaline, and more opportunity for her to stretch her wings. She'd had her share of Alliance pilots in recent engagements, and now it seemed she would be adding Imperials to her list. ​

​

She could feel The Indomitable subtly decelerating to exit hyperspace, already moving to slip her helmet over her head. Her internal HUD cast a glow on her face as it lit up, synching with her ship's systems as she already started to begin her preflight checks, ensuring that her systems were green and ready to go. Her eyes flitted left and right as she quickly scanned over everything. All systems nominal - Good.​

​

Her hands reached for the controls as she was eager to take off the moment their ships arrived in system, and they were cleared for takeoff. How many would she manage to add to her count she wondered.​

​

 

[Saltare Dothon]

SELNASH

Saltare was dressed down, wearing a simple Imperial tunic with his sidearm, as he watched the individual from Cell Block Delta-9 being interrogated. Sid Berik was applying his trade to the man, but so far, with no luck. This was a seasoned GA operative they were attempting to elicit information from regarding the GA's movement. If they could figure out where and when the alliance had planned to strike the Empire next, they could be more prepared.

A few minutes into the interrogation, alarms rang out through the facility, clanging and braying with a voice stating, "Red Alert, all hands, Red Alert."

"What the kriff?" Saltare said as he glanced toward Sid. "Leave him here; we'll be back," he told Sid as he flung open the door to the interrogation room and walked into the gray walled hallway of this portion of the prison, drawing his pistol at the low ready.

An explosion rocked the prison, and a door further down from Saltare crumpled inward, spilling heavily armored and armed Mandalorians into the hall.

"Feth, it's the Neos!" Saltare barked out at Sid as he sent rounds down the hall toward the attackers. "Inferno Squad I need you on me, Delta-9 location, immediately!"

"En route Salt, it's gonna take time, Mandalorians are breaching the upper levels of the prison," Beth replied.

"Copy," Saltare replied. "Sid, we need to get to the armory or we die here," Saltare yelled to be heard over the blaster fire roaring down the hallway. He had sucked into an adjacent doorway to give himself cover but it wouldn't last long.

"We gotta pull back to the stairs!" Saltare barked. "Go! I'll cover you!" Saltare leaned out and let off a flurry of blaster bolts towards the encroaching Mandalorians, making them slow a little and giving Sid enough time to escape the room. Saltare waited for Sid to get setup before he maneuvered himself, knowing they were in a real tight spot. If they couldn't get to the armory and get better equipment, they would be another smear on the tainted history of these Mandalorians.

 

[Careena Fett]

C a r e e n a .F e t t

| Location | Selnesh, Prison​

| Objective | Prison Break​

​

With the Neo Crusaders on the offensive, it would come as a surprise to some within the Dark Empire that they would be the ones to be attacked. But as their direct neighbors with allegiances tied with the Sith, it was only a matter of time before reckoning came knocking. While a bulk of their forces were sent to Ithor in a move to pillage and assault the Dark Empire, a less bold approach was directed towards Selnesh after careful reconnaissance by the Alor of Clan Fett, having already made her move to infiltrate ahead of the others.​

​

A pair of stormtroopers walked through the corridors of the prison, talking amongst each other to pass the time. "Man what a headache it is to be assigned to this post. Watching over a bunch of dusty dissidents and prisoners is such a drag." The other stormtrooper jabbed his partner with an elbow, "Not too loud now, don't want the higher-ups hearing you complain about your job, let alone one of those Sith folk. Heard they'll happily turn your head inside out if it's that much of a headache." Alarms began to blare as the prison soon came under attack, the stormtroopers looking up in confusion completely unaware of the faint profile against the wall as a figure shifted slightly, moving quietly and sticking to the shadows to avoid detection. One went to go radio in for an update on the situation.​

​

A shimmer appeared in front of his helmet as an invisible hand pulled his head back, exposing their neck as a knife materialzed and plunged into the gap between helmet and body armor, twisting to secure the kill. A gurgle escaped the stormtrooper's lips as his partner looked over at him in surprise. He fumbled for his rifle, trying to flick the safety as Careena pulled her knife free from the stormtrooper's neck, pulling the other hand in the opposite direction as the body collapsed off to the side. Careena tossed the knife up in the air, catching it by the blade as the stormtrooper took aim. Thunk. The vibroknife flew through the air as it buried itself blade first into the stormtrooper's helmet, sinking hilt deep right between their eyes as they flopped down to the ground.​

​

The huntress stepped over, pulling the knife free as she wiped the blade against the dead trooper's bodysuit, not a drop of blood spilled on herself as she faded from sight once more, moving to find the prisoner block.​

​

 

[Marlon Sularen]

C L A S H_O F_I D E A L S
Objective I : Jungle Fever

DARK EMPIRE
ITHOR, MID RIM

THE FIRST FLEET - CORE FLEET
INV Sularen's Revenge [100|100] INV Tyuk [100|100] INV Imperium [100|100] INV Dominance [100|100] INV Inquisitor [100|100] INV Harbinger [100|100] INV Regent's Fist [100|100] INV Malevolence [100|100] INV Iron Vow [100|100]

The Mandalorians were attacking. That was the news being conveyed by Sularen as he was on tour in the Wistril System to oversee the production of the Empire's latest TIE Fighter model, the TIE/IAx Advanced Interceptor. When he was informed of such development and the planets being targeted by the Mandalorians, the Lord-Regent was left both suprised and confused. Only weeks before, Moff Antipater had assured him that the Mandalorians wouldn't attack and that they were open to further dialogue and potential collaboration. But now they were invading Imperial territory, so close to the Imperial Capital of Carlac no less.

While it was to Sularen's understanding that the Mandalorians usually targeted what they perceived as weaker foes, he had at the very least expected them to leave the Empire alone, considering they were a distraction to the Galactic Alliance, itself a mutual enemy of both the Empire and Mandalorians which would allow them to more effectively strike against the Alliance and buy the Empire more time to recover from it's lengthy period of stagnation. But now they had thrown this opportunity away, wasting their resources into attacking the Empire which would only serve to benefit nations like the Diarchy and the Galactic Alliance both of whose ideals put them in an ideological conflict with both the Empire and the Mandalorians.

Fortunately for Sularen, he would be able to muster up a rapid response as the vast portion of the First Fleet was currently stationed at Wistril, only one parsec away from the current battles in addition to the Shipyard's own defensive fleet which the Lord-Regent could always further call in to support his main fleet should the situation require such an action. The Mandalorians had stepped on the back of the sleeping Imperial giant, and it was now time for them to face the terrible and unwavering resolve of the Imperial War Machine.

​

Nine Imperial Warships emerged from hyperspace arriving in orbit of Ithor in the heat of the ongoing battle. Consisting of two Battlecruisers, three Star Destroyers and four Heavy Cruiser, this fleet represented the Core of Sularen's First Fleet. The portion of the First Fleet designed to smash through enemy lines while taking the bulk of enemy fire while the rest of the Fleet provided support. However the Lord-Regent had purposely left the rest of the First Fleet back at Wistril leaving his fleet without any smaller escort ships. From what he had gathered from the limited intel about the Mandalorian Navy that the ISB possessed, the Mandalorians made use of mostly made use outdated models that had existed for centuries, hardly a threat to the might of the more sophisticated Imperial Navy.

As such Sularen decided to be bold and refrain from bringing escorts, as if to mock the Mandalorians naval prowess by showing that even without dedicated escorts the Empire could still put down whatever rat-tag fleet they threw at them. This would be a one sided battle, and the Lord-Regent would enjoy every second of it. Today, the Empire would remind the Mandalorians just as it had with the Alliance at Tython, that in it's weakened state it could still be a force to be reckoned with.

Thus, seated in his Command Chair on the bridge of the INV Sularen's Revenge. The Lord-Regent patiently waited for his enemy to make their first move as his fleet moved into formation ready to engage in battle with any hostile naval force. Another glorious day for the Imperial Armada.

Spoiler: After Action Report

• Sularen's Fleet arrives in orbit of Ithor and moves into formation to prepare for battle.

Tags [DE] | Stevru Klamat | The Lord of Hunger
Tags [NEO/Foundation] | Kalah Redra | Yuri Maji | Tarrak ​

 

[Darth Moskvin]

CLASH OF IDEALS

"Horrors, I believe, should be original--the use of common myths and legends being a weakening influence."
- H.P. Lovecraft -
​

Location: Ithor (Research Facilities)
Gear: In Sig
Tags: Mother Askani
​

O'Death​

I hate Ithor. The lushness, the bountiful colors, the freshness of the air made all five senses violently vomit; hence why I never lowered my standards, until now, to set foot on planet so alive. It was a nightmare, a curse to all that was dead, rotting, and decaying. But with the boys and girls that hid their cowardice in tin foiled armors, proclaiming strength whilst engulfed with false pretenses of bravery, arriving shortly; the beauty of Ithor would forever transform into a world of putrid smells and deformities.

Whilst forced to endure the agonizing pains of waiting, and my urge to kill seeping from my pores like tiny droplets of venomous sweat, I began pacing back and forth, collecting little flying defenseless insects to rip those transparent wings from their bodies, casting aside the miniature corpses from my former prisoners of war.

Occasionally I would watch Arrak snakes slither about the trees, fascinated by their complex mixture of serpent and fowl, until curiosity got the best of me. Through the Force, I captured one holding the snake's head firmly in my left hand, staring my unnatural eyes into theirs. I wondered, as I gazed upon this predator how many lives she took to continue her existence in this sickening jungle.

She was beautiful, finding myself mesmerized by the flamboyant feathery scales which concocted her physical attributes; and her emerald eyes that showed a charm of elegance to them, but behind them they were primal, dangerous in fact. She was an apex predator in her own right, not quite matchable to my predatorial nature; but we were similar in some ways. She killed to eat; I killed to eat. She killed for self-preservation; I killed for self-preservation. She was truly remarkable, but she possessed one fatal flaw that was non-existent in me. When she became captured, she grew complacent in her situation, accepting her fate has a trapped predator without once attempting to change her misfortunes. She was weak.

And with a strong pressure of force, I crushed the snake's head in my hand. I detest weakness.

 

[Carduul Akahl]

“What does it mean to be Mandalorian?”​

Words of what he had decreed to his kin but a day before the invasion echoed in the mind’s eye. His cloak billowed behind him, catching fire and smoke in its wake. Another explosion rocked the prison as yet another new breach was torn into its walls. As warriors surged into the opening in front of him, he stood in the center of the chaos. Carduul made his way forward with measured steps and the poleaxe at his side, its sanctified metal reflecting the flames of their conflict.

“To fight for what you believe in.

To defy insurmountable odds.

To safeguard your family, no matter the cost.

To bow to no one,
ever again.”​

He had strode past the motionless bodies of fallen troopers. The klaxons blared, red light bathing darkened corridors as his team made their way forwards. Blaster fire echoed throughout the halls as others stormed into the prison.

“They stand in the way of our future.

We will burn away the rot infesting the borders of our homes.

We will not spare those who shelter our butchers.”​

The Dark Empire had asked them for an alliance. They would have made for a potent ally. Alas, the unfortunate truth of the matter was that so long as the Sith clung to their form, such a thing could never come to fruition. T’was then he realized, he was simply doing them a favor. For how long would it be until they merely fell victim to it all again? How long until their Empire inevitably tried, and failed to ingratiate the Sith in a controlled manner? It was impossible. Valiant though their efforts were, they had been so intrinsically tied for so long, it needed to be forged anew.

Much like was once said of his own, their people had simply proven too contentious to ever sit still. It was not in their nature. Inevitably, they would seek to rise, and subjugate everything in their path. All right upon the borders of Manda’yaim.

They could not be relegated to a position of lower power. Tempered. Subdued.

They could not be reasoned with. Not forever.

“They must be wiped out.”​

The Mid-Rim had to be united, consolidated, to establish a true stronghold. He had foreseen it. Be it the Dark Empire, or the Neo-Crusaders, one had to rise from the conflict stronger than the sum of their parts. Collateral was inevitable. It always was. Such was the price of greater heights.

And so he had sent those brave souls forth, to war. An army. Slowly, no longer disparate clans. No longer scattered wayward souls, seeking purpose. Veterans of countless conflicts supplanted with legions of warriors from newly conquered planets, raids, and liberations. The makings, however faint, of a true force to be reckoned with. Perhaps this battle would determine whether the time was right, or if it was not meant to be.

“We’ve lost contact with the squadron moving to the control room.” One of the Rally Masters reported at his side. His helm tilted slightly in response, the ruminations coming to an end with the cold reality that surrounded them. “Then we have our new point of interest.” Was all the terse reply. Steps pressed onwards.

Then, with a fist raising in an unspoken command, he proceeded alone.

As the grim shadow he casted passed the threshold of the entryway, he saw the bloodied scene. Amidst it all, a lone droid. One that did not immediately, mindlessly move to engage him. For a brief moment, as his weapon hung idle, Carduul regarded the figure with a measured curiosity.

“You bested my warriors.” He spoke, his voice resonant amid the clamour. “A droid, not flesh-and-blood. Yet something is amiss—for you stand here, amidst your victories, and wait.”

Antipater

 

[Kalah Redra]

STORM
ORBIT | ITHOR
ALLIES: Mother Askani | Yuri Maji | Altan | Trent Perris | Reluctantly NEO
ENEMIES: The Lord of Hunger | DE
ENGAGING: Marlon Sularen (soon bby - just want to get my goons to the surface)
PERSONAL GEAR: In bio

OMENS​

Active Foundation Fleet Active flaghsip: FNV Commissioner (100/100) 3x Consular II-Class Frigates FNV Pioneer (100/100) FNV Nexus (100/100) FNV Intrepid (100/100) 4x Marauder II-Class Attack Corvette FNV Hellhound (100/100) FNV Hunter (100/100) FNV Helios (100/100) FNV Frenzy (100/100) Reserve Foundation Fleet a short jump away Led by Captain Georgia Keller Real flaghsip: FNV Retribution (100/100) 2x Longbeam II-Class Cruisers FNV Atlas (100/100) FNV Javelin (100/100) 1x Horizon-Class Star Destroyer FNV Dauntless (100/100) Spoiler: Actions -Left a reserve fleet under Captain Georgia Keller's command just outside of sensor range a short hyper-jump away -Sent Mother Askani down to the hangar and commed Trent Perris , Altan and initially Yuri Maji to get ready for deployment. -Learns about Marlon Sularen being present and changed mind. Asks for Yuri Maji to come to the bridge -Arrived in Ithor's orbit with shields ready and weapons primed. -Moves toward planet with fleet surrounding protectively. -Angles the Commissioner to face DE ships with her belly with reinforced shields on the hull. Positions frigates defensively in front of hull and corvettes on the flanks. -Only then deployed shuttles toward surface -Waits for Yuri Maji to hustle to the bridge.

Always ready to receive new people.

With the Foundation's Intelligence monitoring of the Crusaders, it became clear that they would launch an attack on Ithor. When the report reached Strategic Command, they jumped quickly. Lives may be at stake and the more people they could rally to the Cause, the better.

Ever vigilant, Kalah left a contingent of some of her fleet a small jump away from Ithor's orbit before she, her passengers and the rest of her ships carried on to the disputed world in need. The primary goal - get as many people to safety as possible to not have them be caught in the crossfire of the Mandalorians and the Empire.

"Coming out of Hyperspace in five." came Captain Zan's report from where he was standing behind Navigation.
Kalah looked up from the tactical chart she had been studying alongside Mother Askani .
"Notify the gallery. I want them shaped up and ready for deployment in the shuttles. They need to be fast before anyone realises what is happening." she said, straightening up.
"You heard the Admiral, Jones!" the Falleen relayed
"Yes, Ma'am. Yes, Sir." said Jones, jumping into action on the local comms, letting everyone in the hangar know to get ready.

The Zygerrian looked at Askani.
"If you want to be down in the thick of it, I suggest you head down to the hangar too. Things will get hairy once we hit orbit." she told her.
"Ma'am, we're getting a reading that the Lord Regent of the Empire had just entered orbit with nine other ships." said Boothe.
"The Lord Regent you say?" asked Kalah, ears perking up.
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Jones, get that Mandalorian to get up here. I need a word."
"Yes, Ma'am." she said before calling Yuri Maji over the comms to come to the bridge.
"In the meantime, have all ships ready shields and weapons." Kalah ordered.

A few minutes later, they blipped into orbit. The bridge crew were looking wide-eyed at the size and amount of enemy ships before them. Even Zan was oddly silent.
"Don't just ogle it. Hop to!" Kalah's sharp tone ordered from where she had approached the viewport. "Get those shuttles out of the hangar and onto the surface. And keep me in contact with both groups. I'll need to know when I have to deploy extra protection once they start sending people back to us. Let them know what I expect. And have everyone keep away from those monsters for now and just get us as close as possible for deployment."
The entire bridge jumped back into action, relaying orders.

As the fleet positioned itself tightly around the Commissioner, they started moving toward the planet, keeping a wide berth from the bigger Imperial ships. Kalah's green eyes narrowed for a moment as strategies ran through her head.
"Angle the Commissioner to face the enemy with her belly and send most power to the shields on the hull. Have the frigates guard it as well while the corvettes cover our flanks. Only then deploy the shuttles. Keep them safe." she then ordered.
"Yes, Ma'am." said Zan and the Falleen then made it happen. The ships moved into position as the Commissioner was angled as ordered.
Shortly after, the shuttles carrying Mother Askani , Altan and Trent Perris among others were deployed to the surface in a rush.

In the meantime, Kalah awaited Yuri's arrival on the bridge.

 

[Vreegan Fett]

Darth Callidus

Vreegan was stood on the bridge of the Kandosii Dreadnought known as the Indomitable, as it emerged from hyperspace around the planet of Ithor. Discontent simmered behind the beskar-infused helmet that adorned his head, particularly regarding the Field Marshal's proposal to launch an attack on this world.​

​

Despite its biochemical potential, Ithor held far less significance for the Great Crusade compared to securing control over the Imperial Braxant Run, which would enable them to strike at the Diarchy in the future, should they succeed in claiming those territories.​

​

At present, the Diarchy posed no immediate threat, However, it was advantageous to have options for the crusade to gather supplies and new munitions for the battles that lay ahead, ensuring the continuation of Mandalorian dominance.​

​

"Status report - Bridge. " Vreegan asked through the communication device on his wrist, receiving a rather rapid response ​

​

" All systems - clear, Field Marshal Fett. Fighter Squadrons away to assist over Ithor per your instructions. " indicating that the starfighter squadron under the command of Nelliel Kryze had departed from the hangar. ​

​

Although they were the most skilled pilot among their ranks, their affiliation with the Cursed Kryze Clan brought them considerable disgrace due to Khamul's actions with the Brotherhood of the Maw. ​

​

There was a sharp click of three mechanisms, as the hangar bays opened up and allowed the Mandalorians to surge ahead onto the mostly peaceful planet in massive numbers not seen since the Mandalorian Enclave. ​

​

He yanked on the reins of the Basilisk War Droid, as it moved through the atmosphere around artillery shells as it landed on top of one of the Ithorian Hardships to await a worthy foe. ​

​

 

[Sid Berik]

Saltare Dothon​

He had never, once, in his life interrogated someone. Ever. But-

It was part of his training. He was the enemy, he was someone to fight. The battlefield of the mind was another area of combat.

And so far-

Sid had no idea what he was doing. Zero. He had no idea why they stuck him with it. Perhaps to prove loyalty. After all, Sid's dissent was quietly well-known. Or maybe his doubts. A wounded young hero of the Empire, it was natural to face doubts. Being the sole survivor of his original company made him a hero, but to him, it made him a target. Doubt and guilt followed him everywhere. And, the constant desire to prove himself. Such so that he was elevated to being a Commando- and placed in the ranks of Inferno Squad.

A litany of alarm bells rang out, and the Alliance soldier chuckled to himself. He said something about his rescue being here. Sid was doubtful- the Alliance didn't stage any rescues this soon. Not like this, and now with this level of violence or force. They were like the Empire, quiet, efficient, direct. No this was-

He found his answer as the door flung open. Sid didn't have a sidearm or any weapons on him, as he was in a prison. He needed to find one, quickly. Sid grabbed one of the metal trays holding various syringes, standing near the door. A Mandalorian came near the door, stepping through the threshold. He swung the tray directly into the Neocrusader's neck, causing her to gasp, choke, and fall backwards into another Mandalorian. In the tight, cramped space, armor and bulk worked somewhat against them. Stacked against each other, Sid kicked the first Mandalorian, causing her to fall against her comrade. Sid twisted her weapon outward toward her thumb, grabbing it by the barrel and pushing up, a few blaster bolts ringing out. She screamed in pain as he broke her hand, managing to snatch the rifle out of her hand.

Luckily, Saltare, the senior member of Inferno squad, was covering him and quickly put three shots into the second Mandalorian in the neck and under the arms, the blaster making the Mandalorian crumble over. Sid leaned over the first Neocrusader, shooting her in the same spots, and in the gap in her stomach. She reeled on the ground for a moment, before laying still. Sid looked across the hallway, quickly removing the equipment webbing from each of the Mandalorians, and the rifle the second Mandalorian had. Not enough to get through the fight- the Mandalorians had other weapons and their armor to rely on, but maybe it was enough to get Saltare and Sid to the armory.

He checked the webbing from the female Neocrusader, four cartridges for the rifle, plus the one in the rifle.

Not a lot against heavily armored foes. He took a deep breath, looking at the other Mandalorian as he approached him, handing him the spare rifle, taking cover alongside him, glancing up to the stairs. He wasn't familiar with the layout of the prison yet, but he knew roughly where the armory was.

"Those mother fuckers! I thought we had a truce!"

He took cover near the stairs, aiming upwards, waiting for Saltare to hold down while he held high. They had to move in tandem to escape the inferno of combat, and hopefully get better gear. They didn't need to win here, they just needed to hold on.

 

[Antipater]

SELNESH
IMPERIAL DETENTION CENTER - CONTROL ROOM ALPHA​

"Carduul Akahl. Or should I simply call you Mandalore?" Antipater turned to fully face him, servomotors whirring. "When I saw you last over Ithor, you were but one of many uncertain alors. I see your ascension has given them cause and focus."

Antipater did not believe in the living Force, but even he would call it fortuitous that Carduul had found him first. It saved him the trouble of searching.

Determining where the Mandalorians would strike and where exactly Carduul would be was impossible, short of mysticism. So Antipater had elected to merely be present everywhere of strategic importance at once. Similar darktroopers scattered across Ithor, Selnesh, and neighboring systems abruptly switched to their localized programming - if they had activated at all.

But the one before Carduul remained tethered to distant Jaemus. In the dark heart of Diadochron, deep within the Prime Control Ziggurat, an array of supercomputers flicked on one after the other.

The great work of forecasting the future began now. Possible outcomes spread and splintered across Antipater's vision like cracks along a glass pane.

All that remained was to narrow them down.

"You have come here and to Ithor to secure a great victory for the crusade. I do not begrudge you that. You will find a worthy foe in this Empire yet. Before our contest begins, I have final questions I would ask you... If you will answer."

Attn: Carduul Akahl​

 

[Ryorgak Saor'daw]

Dyans Keto
Gauntlet Shields | Crushgaunts | Crusader Assault Armor | Beskad | Kal Dagger | ZV2 Compact Heavy Pistols (x5) | Custom Vambraces | Master-Grav Boots

"This will be a first for me - breaking into a prison instead of out of one. " The Twi'lek remarked softly beneath his modified assault helmet. Prior to joining the Mandalorian Crusade, he had traversed various prisons as a minor gangster, accumulating significant gambling debts.​

​

He pondered whether his former associates would be astonished to find him on the opposite side of the bars, charging into the core of an Imperial Prison Complex. He tightened his grip on the twin ZV2 Pistols within his hands, their weight serving as a reassuring reminder of the life had left behind in order to do some good....well good was open to interpretation.​

​

" I've got your backs covered! " he called out to the Mandalorian pilot, who skillfully maneuvered the ship through a barrage of blaster fire. The ship's forward cannons roared in retaliation, transforming a nearby turret into a smoldering wreck. "But let's not turn this into a new pastime, shall we?"​

​

As the ship approached the prison's landing pad, the Twi'lek noticed the flickering lights of alarms activating throughout the compound. A rush of adrenaline surged through him, mingling with the exhilaration of rebellion; he was no longer the prey but the predator.​

​

"We need to move quickly," he urged, his voice unwavering despite the turmoil outside.​

​

The Twi'lek leaped from the ship's ramp as it descended, landing in a roll and coming up in a crouch, blaster raised. He sighted down the barrel, taking out another trooper, the crack of the blaster echoing in the confined space.​

​

 

[Electra-12]

Location: Hangar Bay, INV Sularen’s Revenge - Ithor High Orbit
Mission Objective: Launch
Call Sign: Nacheria Seven
Allies: Van Trask Marlon Sularen
Enemies: Nelliel Kryze Vreegan Fett Kalah Redra

Electra-12 moved in quick stride through the hustle of the hangar bay as crew, droids, pilots, technicians, and various others set about their assigned tasks in preparation for the coming sorties. Her assigned craft—a TIE/DT Destroyer—sat on the lowermost launching rack at the far end of the hangar bay, already armed, checked over, and primed for launch.

All it needed were the pilots.

“We’re going to receive our mission objectives after launch, once command has established a more complete picture of the battlespace.” Electra said to her partner, who she had not had the opportunity to acquaint herself with before the briefing which had finished only a few minutes prior. And yet, such meetings were common occurrences in the Starfighter Corps. TIE pilots rarely stayed in the career for long, as turnover was frequent, ruthless, and violent. New pilots were always coming through the academies, just as old ones were being shot down or if they were lucky, transferring to the Navy.

For her part, Electra-12 was one of the few who had stayed.

She came to a halt just in front of a ladder which led up to the boarding gangway from which pilots entered their TIEs. Then, turning around, the short-statured Chiss regarded the blonde-haired man who was to be her co-pilot with a narrow-eyed expression, his much taller stature looming over her in the process.

“You have missiles, the rear flechette cannons, defensive subsystems, sensors, and utility subsystems.” Electra-12 explained. “I will take care of everything else.” She finished, before placing her helmet over her head and turning around to climb up the ladder.

And before long, Electra-12 was strapped into her acceleration seat, her slender, gloved fingers flicking across the controls as she brought the TIE to life.

“This is Nacheria Seven, reporting all systems nominal on my end.” She intoned. “Trask, verify status, please.”

Spoiler: Loadout

Craft: TIE/DT Destroyer

• Status
  
  • Shields: 100%
  • Hull: 100%
  • Structure: 100%
• Armament
  
  • GCA-11 "Starhammer" Electromagnetic Plasma Cannon (6)
  • SHAC-60 "Tank Ripper" Mass Driver Autocannon (4)
  • VMAT-551 Predator Launch Platform (4)
    
    • Cluster Seismic Missiles
    • XV-100 ‘Sidewinder’ Ion Pulse Missiles
    • Angelus Arms Quake Missiles
    • Seismic Missiles
  • Dual FC-27 “Firestorm” Flechette Weapon System (2)
• Pilot Equipment
  
  • Dark Empire Flight Suit
  • SFP-60x Particle Beam Pistol

 

[Tristan Evore]

​

TAGS: Marlon Sularen | The Neo-Crusading Boarding Party?

Tristan Evore approached the gangway of the INV Sularen's Revenge with an air of unbridled disdain, his eyes glinting with mischief and centuries of accumulated arrogance. Clad in his signature dark, flowing mantle and a wry smile that hinted at secrets best left unspoken, he strode forward as if each step defied the very gravity of Imperial protocol. At the gangway, a young, officious officer—whose uniform was as stiff as his manners—stepped forward and curtly denied him entry. "High Lord Evore, protocol dictates that only authorized personnel may board the bridge at this hour," the officer intoned, his voice quavering with a mix of fear and deference. Tristan's eyes narrowed imperiously as he prepared to make his point in a manner only he could.

"Protocol, you say?" Tristan drawled, his tone a cocktail of amusement and thinly veiled threat. The officer, taken aback by the High Lord's tone, stammered an apology while fumbling with his datapad. Tristan's gaze grew colder; It was becoming clear to the young officer that he was not one to be trifled with. "I demand entry," he declared, his words laced with a venomous promise, "or I shall find it most... enlightening to demonstrate the consequences of your insolence." The silence that followed was punctuated by the officer's faltering murmur of uncertainty, as if he sensed the danger in Tristan's unfettered charisma.

The tension on the gangway escalated as Tristan advanced, his dark eyes flashing with a predatory glimmer. "Do you not know," he hissed, "of my biological affliction?" His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, each word dripping with the promise of unspeakable retribution. Before the officer could protest further, Tristan extended a gloved hand, and with a swift, almost imperceptible gesture, he channeled his repugnant Force power. The officer's eyes widened as a palpable surge of energy radiated from Tristan, a silent threat to consume the life essence of anyone foolish enough to challenge him.

He was promptly granted entry.

Inside the bridge, the atmosphere was already charged with strategic intensity. Marlon Sularen , Lord Regent of the Empire and a dear old rival turned reluctant ally, sat in quiet contemplation over holographic maps detailing the current assault on Ithor and Selnesh. Tristan's abrupt entrance had caused a ripple among the assembled officers, their expressions a mix of awe and apprehension. He surveyed the screens, noting the Imperial fleet's poised formation and the relentless energy of the bio‑weapons projects on Ithor—a linchpin in the Empire's renewed offensive. "Obviously you cannot allow your assets to be squandered on the whims of unworthy adversaries," he murmured to Sularen without as much of a simple greeting.

Tristan then turned his attention to the matter at hand: ensuring that his substantial investments in the Dark Empire did not vanish like so many fallen alliances. The recent Mandalorian intrusion, although unexpected, was an opportunity he could not afford to ignore. Many Empires had risen in the galaxy, and none of them lived to see the current age.

"The Empire must not become another galactic loser," he proclaimed to his old comrade, clasping the studious officer on the back, "or we shall see our fortunes and our prospects dissolve into the void. Again."

 

[Carduul Akahl]

Eyes behind the pitch-black visor narrowed as the droid spoke. Robotically, unfeeling, as any. Yet its reference to the last time he was over Ithor was unmistakable. The whir of servomotors sounded against the sound of pitched battles in the hallway. He looked upon the black-chrome form as it turned to fully face him.

“I am not one to lord titles over others, Moff Antipater. I am merely a natural progression.

Inevitable.

I am not the first, ​

nor shall I be the last.”​

What fortune. The one who had reached out in the first place, invited him to more seriously think about the potential, the ramifications of his actions upon the Dark Empire. He had to admit, it was a bold prospect for the droid present in open battle. If it could die here, that is—an unlikely, illogical choice for one such as them. This he knew.

“You speak correctly. I am sure the Dark Empire shall fight with all the might I am looking for.”

The helm tilted at the next prospect the Moff presented to him. Amused, perhaps, or merely curious. He could guess as to what the droid wanted. To gauge his commitment. To ask why. Why drain such resources, when their powers combined would yield more results? One so rooted in logic, so calculating in its thought—perhaps aiming to gleam whatever it could to file away for the future.

The poleaxe was placed into both of his hands, setting down with a loud thud against the steel floor centered upon him.

“Go on, then. Ask. Perhaps I shall humor you, however briefly, before my weapon tastes steel.”

Antipater

 

[Saverok]

Onrai​

The M22-T Krayt roared through the stormy upper atmosphere of Ithor, its angular frame cutting through the thick clouds like a beast on the hunt. Inside the cockpit, Saverok gripped the controls with a steady hand, his focus locked on the battlefield ahead. The sky was alive with the chaos of war—Imperial TIEs screamed through the air, trading fire with Neo-Crusader fighters, while below, the floating cities bristled with anti-air turrets, spitting crimson laser fire into the sky.

The shuttles behind him, filled with Mandalorian warriors, hurdled toward their landing zones. They wouldn't make it unless those AA guns were silenced. With a flick of his clawed fingers, Saverok armed the missile payload. A targeting reticle flickered across his HUD, locking onto a cluster of turrets perched along the edge of one of the floating platforms.

"Firing."

The Krayt shuddered as it unleashed a barrage of concussion missiles, fiery streaks cutting through the sky. The explosions followed instantly, engulfing the gun batteries in flames and shrapnel. Before the smoke could settle, Saverok leaned into the controls, strafing the ruins with a rapid volley of blaster and ion cannon fire. The turrets erupted, their circuits frying as energy bolts tore through their defenses.

"Shuttles, move in." Saverok growled into his comms, his voice a deep, guttural rumble.

The Neo-Crusader transports surged forward, now unobstructed, piercing through the clouds like warbirds descending upon prey. The docking clamps engaged as they latched onto the platform's hangars, ready to deploy the might of the Crusade. With the primary threat neutralized, Saverok pulled his gunship into a controlled descent, gliding toward the nearest docking zone. The landing gear hissed as it met the platform's metal flooring, and the ship settled with a heavy thud. The cockpit hissed open, releasing a gust of pressurized air as Saverok stepped out, his heavy boots clanking against the platform. His blackened armor, scarred from a recent combat, made him a walking specter of malevolence. Without missing a beat, he reached for his weapon—a C-M Frag Storm Heavy Shotgun, its barrel thick and its frame built for destruction. He slapped a large magazine into the receiver with a satisfying clack and pumped the chamber, loading a slug the size of a fist.

" This is turning out to be a good day." He chuckled to him.

 

[The Lord of Hunger]

LOCATION: Ithor, space
OBJECTIVE: Support the main Dark Imperial Fleet
IMPORTANT LINKS: Sword | Armor | Jewel | Ring | Necklace | DIII Gluttoneria | The guards | The Enforcer
TAG: Marlon Sularen | Vreegan Fett | Stevru Klamat | Kalah Redra | Yuri Maji | Tarrak | Electra-12

Normally, the Lord of Hunger would have preferred battles on the planet's surface, but with this invasion in Dark Empire territory endangering the prospects of the Sith Ascendant Order, and with the Mandalorians bringing a sizeable fleet of their own to actively support and coordinate this military operation, Credius was forced to scramble a fleet together just for the sake of hampering the advance of the Mandalorian forces. Since he could not leave the Redoubt unguarded, leaving his Keres class star destroyers behind was a blow to his capacity to fully secure a proper fleet, thus he had to rely on the smaller, but still quite effective Tyrant IV-class cruisers and a single Barragan-Class vessel to support his own Dictator III-class battlecruiser; the Gluttoneria in the defense of the Ithor Planetary system within the mid rim.

It so happened that Marlon Sularen ; the Lord Regent of the Dark Empire had already brought the core of his own sizeable fleet to the location, which arguably did make it ostensibly easier to sync up with the Imperial forces in order to attempt to mount a succesful defense of the planetary system against the aggressive Mandalorian expansion.

Due to the distance the Lord of Hunger had to traverse in order to aid in the defensive arrangements, it was no surprise that he had arrived much later than the Lord Regent, in fact upon his arrival it was quite clear that one of the fleets allied to or part of the Mandalorian warmachine had already entered the system and was en route to engage the Lord-regent's fleet.

"They really do honor their heritage," Credius sighed as he looked at the holographic display in front of him, looking at what his massive battle cruiser's sensors picked up while it arrived within the planetary sector. Ofcourse, as it wasn't his full naval capacity which he had brought to bare, the Lord of Hunger had decided to go for a rather unconventional approach, allowing the Gluttoneria to remain cloaked and slightly behind the leading Tyrant cruisers and the Barragan star carrier, knowing fully well that as long as the enemy did not focus too much on him, his fleet would be perceived as a small support fleet with little firepower apart from the ample missiles it carried. "Lightning fast action, swift and decisive attack to beat down any opposition...a pity these mandalorians are not allies... One just can't help but respect their tenacity in combat."

From his distance, Credius utilized his ship's encrypted communications' systems to coordinate the approach of his fleet, ordering the three Tyrant IV class cruisers present in the form of the AGV Ira, AGV Avaritia and the AGV Luxuria to form up into an upright forward leaning triangular formation, with the Avaritia taking point. The AGV Superbia, the Barragan-class would saunter slightly backwards and follow this formation centrally located behind it, while the cloaked Gluttoneria would effectively loom over this small visible fleet from the back.

"Send a message to the Lord-Regent, The Armada Gluttoneria will aid in the suppression of this invasion," The communications officer on board nodded and started to tap on his screen feverishly, while the Force Abomination draped in his gold and red armor, flanked by his Sceleratis looked at the holographic display again. "Find me the specs on these ships they are using, if there is any weakness in their formation, we will have to discover it and abuse it as we see fit."

"Milord, preparing for engagement?" One of the officers on deck calmly asked, though slightly nervous when his voice triggered the Sceleratii to look into his direction.

"Set our shields, give the order to the Avararitia, Luxuria and Ira to load the cluster missiles and man the guns," It was a gamble, but the Lord of Hunger did doubt that the small visible fleet he had brought would be anywhere near as much of a prize as the Lord Regent's fleet would be. Reaching for his left wrist, the man let out a laugh as he realised that Darth Imperius had reached the planet's surface. "Lord Imperius... if you need any assistance, we have arrived near Ithor, when we enter orbit, I could send down a few squadrons of starfighters to aid in the defense..."

​

Spoiler: fleet set up+ action report

• AGV Gluttoneria [100|100] CLOAKED
  • Gala Fighter Mk III - 30 squadrons
  • Legiones I-class R-I1 Raider - 4 squadrons
  • TIE/RB Bomber - 6 squadrons
• AGV Superbia [100|100]
  • TIE/RTII starfighter - 10 squadrons
  • QB/L controle module x48
  • WB/1SP Drone x1,152
• AGV Ira [100|100]
  • TIE/RTII starfighter - 3 squadrons
  • TIE/RB Bomber - 2 squadrons
• AGV Avaritia [100|100]
  • TIE/RTII starfighter - 3 squadrons
  • TIE/RB Bomber - 2 squadrons
• AGV Luxuria [100|100]
  • TIE/RTII starfighter - 3 squadrons
  • TIE/RB Bomber - 2 squadrons

• Arrive in Ithor planetary system
• set up forward tilted upright triangular formation with Tyrant IV class cruisers, false flagship in the center back , cloaked REAL flagship following overhead
• sync up with Sularen's fleet
• Contact Darth Imperius for possible air support

​

​