Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Mission The High War: Zion || Ascendancy

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Chapter I: The Sun Rises
Chapter II: Day of Landing

P O R T _L U C K
Zion, Philistia System
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The Enemy is a Body. If you cannot target the Head? Sever the Legs.

Since the moment the southern remnant touched down on Verun, the Khanate* had been a persistent adversary. Theirs was a warring culture that would not accept any potential challenges to their dominance - especially not visitors from beyond the Expanse. So, they attempted to cut the knees out from under the budding Ascendancy. Yet, with each raid, the survivors grew stronger. With each assault, the Ascendancy learned how to combat their enemy. Thus the "peace" of the present day was reached: a simple calm whilst two armies assessed one another. The clash was inevitable. The Expanse* would be lit aflame with their collision. But until that fateful day, the Ascendancy would give itself every advantage.

So it was that their sights were set on the Philistia System.

According to the Vulpes'* reports, the region remained relatively untouched by the Khanate - and it was not due to the proximity of the Ascendancy. The reason was far more material. The system was a valuable link to the outside Galaxy: a rare port of call for the more sordid characters in the region. If one had a wicked desire in their hearts, they could fulfill it on one of Philistia's many worlds. Narcotics. Slaves. Weapons. All flowed aplenty within this region. As a culture that takes instead of build, the Khanate needed a consistent stream of armaments to equip their men. Philistia was just the place. In return, the system would be untouched by their raids; and their leadership would benefit from personal protection by the Khanate's finest.

This was truly match made in Hell - and the Ascendancy endeavored to break it. Should the pipeline between the Philistia System and the Khanate be disrupted, it would only be a matter of time before the latter's warmachine slowed to a crawl. The will of the Dominus* clear: the Philistia System had to be brought to heel. And the first step towards victory was the planet Zion. Of the Philistia System's orbits, Zion was the second most fortified for good reason. Here, wandering slavers would find the facilities to exchange their ill-gotten wares into local currencies. And potential buyers would have an entire fortress' worth of souls to evaluate. Among these were even captives of the early raids against the Ascendancy.

Zion was an abomination, even without its contributions to the Khanate's existence.

It was time to take it down.

The hub for slaver activity on the oceanic Zion is Port Luck. The "cleverly" named structure was once used to drill for resources under the ocean. Now, the rig has been heavily fortified and converted into a fortress. While it would be less resource intensive to bombard the Port into oblivion, the potential killing of Ascendant prisoners is an unfavorable outcome. As such, a direct assault is required to shut the facility down.

As you proceed, keep an eye out for the brains of the operation: Gaus Philistia. Capturing him alive for interrogation would be a great boon for our efforts. However, if you cannot capture him - ensure that he does not escape.​

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OBJECTIVE I: While teams can be inserted at high risk, a full-scale evacuation of the rig's prisoners cannot occur until it has been brought offline. Specifically, a network of anti-air emplacements are keeping the brunt of the Ascendancy's aerial forces at bay. The goal here is to pierce through the Port and to shut down its defenses. How you accomplish this task is up to you.

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OBJECTIVE II: Orbital scans have shown that Port Luck has a deliberate lack of landing pads - most likely to dissuade runaway attempts. Thus, a suitable evacuation route must be established for the rig's prisoners. The objective here is twofold: liberate the holding cells deep within the Port and secure the primary landing zone at the rig's northernmost point. Expect extreme resistance and do your best to preserve Ascendant lives.​

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T E R M S
  • KHANATE: One of the reigning powers within the Shiraya Expanse. A raider culture that opposes the Ascendancy.
  • THE EXPANSE: Refers to the Shiraya Expanse - a lawless sector of space located in the Galaxy's South Arm.
  • VULPES: The military intelligence forces of the Ascendancy. Members of the nation's Regnum Star Legion.
  • DOMINUS: A term meaning "emperor." Refers to the leader/monarch of the Ascendancy: Darth Metus.


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"Easy, was yesterday"

Today, was a new challenge. And hell, she lived for it. The Ocean waters were relaxing somehow, though she remained purposely ignorant of the scope of what she did here. She had adopted a war, and new enemies, but how was that any different from her old life. She wanted the challenge of the new, and undiscovered. The Khanites wanted a fight as well, so she would give that to them. She had been swimming for about thirty minutes now elapsed, and finally neared the objective.

Port Hope, Zion, The Philistia system... Iella stared ahead through her light armor, baring many resemblances to the RSHA Heavy Armor, but offering superior mobility over the platform. She was armored by design, after all. Having not taken a breath for well over six minutes now, she would decide not to do so, toughing out the last bits of her swim, and finally moving to breach the surface, and in one motion pulling herself up into a twist to sit on one of the X-beams that made up the support beams for the rig.

She leaned back casually, putting her feet up while she would in turn gaze up at the bottom of the structure briefly, resting for just a few minutes before she would continue the next part of her personal objectives. As such, she went through the relatively easy process of unhooking the tubes that connected the oxygen tubes to her helmet and pulled it off. While the helmet was fearsome, it would have surprised most of the girl underneath, a baby-faced cinnamon skinned human. She barely looked like a warfighter, much less anyone who should have held the title of Militus Signifer within the RSL. Yet that was what she was. She snapped one of the pouches on her armor and removed a few ration packs. Eating far more than a regular human being should have needed too, especially for her size; and yet she smashed at least three packs with ease, only burping lightly, and honestly feeling like she should have brought a few more.

After her quick meal, she wiped her mouth, and would put her helmet back on, reconnecting all the necessary hosing before the large bag that she had been swimming with from her back. Within, her armaments for this sortie.

A single Conquest Bow, and a bundle of arrows. She leaned forward, placing the Bow in a carry configuration, and reaching behind herself to mag-clamp it to her armor, doing the same thing just over her should with the bundle of arrows; ten armor-piercing tips, five concussion heads, and five broadhead arrows. Each were 'feathered' with a specific feel, so that it would be easier to ascertain with one the marksmen were touching before drawing. One she was finished with that, she reached back into vac-sealed bag, and drew twin NK01 Fujita Rail Pistol's and holstering each on a opposing thighs. Three complimentary magazines as well were brought out with each (Eight Total, With two pre-loaded). Slotting them across the chest plate for her armor, Iella would take the bag and pull it so it was stuck between a small gap in the structure before standing and beginning her climb up to the platform.

It always amazed her how quiet, and peaceful these places could be just before all the chaos began. Though in reality there was an unspoken truth that most soldiers that often-entered conflict zones would agree upon. The noise was always more comforting than the silence. The silence was just a long pause before the noise started up again.

Iella wouldn't note that she had begun her incursion, too fearful to break radio silence, but had arrived at the rig about eight minutes before she was supposed to be there; though with her meal break would now be actually right back on mission time. Her objectives clear.

Eliminate any Opfor she can while maintaining a low profile, keeping track of friendly comms (When they started) and supporting whatever friendly assets were going to be deployed.

Keep a keen eye out for any opportunities to sabotage enemy AA/Defensive Emplacements, and do so.

Most importantly, watch for and capture Gaus Philistia by all means, her most sought after objective. Though, in case there is a risk of escape, termination would suffice.


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Objective 2
Tags: Abel Denko Abel Denko
Equipment: Single blade Lightsaber, Armourweave clothing
Dreidi looked at herself in the mirror, she was not feeling sure about this mission. It was important to stop the Khanate from growing in strength and destroying them but she didn't know if they had to attack this place. Surely they could try something more diplomatic? Try talking about release of their people and coming to some agreement, but then she didn't know that angle had been attempted or not. She wasn't looking around for answers and therefore she couldn't expect answers be handed to her. Dreidi needed to breathe out slowly and just accept that until she was willing to dedicate herself to the Ascendency and try climbing through the ranks then she can't be expected to understand motivations and feel guilty or disappointed when peace wasn't attempted. Either she committed and tried to stand as a voice of peaceful resolutions or she accepted that the decisions that the Dominus and the others had made.

Tying her hair into braids, she thought about what she needed to do. She should find a group to work with, or at least someone to join with on this mission, being isolated from everyone wasn't going to help. Especially since she had signed up to help out with the prisoners and attempting to free them and extract them from the base. Hunting one man wasn't a skill she really had, she was better fighting enemies and defending innocent people. It was the direction of training she had been adopting, her Magick was growing in skills too. Even taking on colour, it was turning purple, she was surprised it would be turning that colour since part of her assumed it would be more the dark orange of her Lightsaber but it was adopting a deeper purple tone. Perhaps this was in part due to the fact that Dreidi was using her Magick to tap into the Dark Side potential that resided in her. It was risky but learning to control her Dark Side and use it as a Nightsister power was exciting and provided safer than just releasing it all through the Dark Side of the Force which was explosive and slippery slope.

Donning her armourweave gear and attaching the hilt of her Lightsaber to her belt, Dreidi looked at herself in the mirror. She really needed to sort out getting some armour, either talking to someone or designing it herself. All the armour that the Ascendency had felt bulky, restrictive and not suited to her style. Her whole training and even her Lightsaber hilt, was around armourweave, leather and very light armour fighting. It had been instilled into her that getting hit was death, that you needed to be nimble and dodge. Keeping fluid and she was trying to use Magick to help with that. Teleportation spells, illusion Magick, anything that could give her advantage in fighting terms. Dreidi always knew another fight would come, that even if Ascendency became her home, her life, that one day she would have to join the other Jedi and fight the looming Sith that wanted her and trillions of innocent people to perish because they did not agree to the Sith ideology. She was scared that day was coming ever closer with what she heard about the Maw.

Stepping into the hangar, Dreidi looked around, she was lost. There hadn't been a chance to jump with anyone heading to the planet yet. Looking around at the dropships and pods, Dreidi chewed on her bottom lip, she could just take a pod and land on her own but then she would be alone fighting and that didn't sound practical, sensible or the right decision. She needed to work with others, therefore Dreidi made a point to look around to see if anyone wanted her to join them in the fight. ​
 

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In the years since Naboo, Kyyrk had gained a reputation. A cold, calculating reputation. When Kyyrk entered the battlefield, the best one could hope for was a swift death. An executor of the Dominus's will, he'd been involved in every major conflict against the Khanate since the Ascendancy arrived seven years ago. Some called him a Jedi. Some called him a Sith. But the only thing that the Khanate knew for certain was that he used the arts of Dark and Light in equal measure. When Kyyrk entered the battlefield, the full might of the Ascendancy was not far behind.

Kyyrk was surrounded by the best of the best. From orbit, his team prepared. The plan was to attack Port Luck from all sides. Above, below, and surrounding. While Militus Iella S. Militus Iella S. and others like her were preparing to strike from below, Kyyrk was laying in coordinates on the ship in orbit. His team would attack from above. Anti-Air was too strong to begin landing and evacuation. But no amount of air cover could deter Kyyrk and a handful of orbital drop pods. Two directives had been given: Disable the anti-air by any means necessary, and eliminate Gaus Philistia. If Gaus knew what was good for him, he was already preparing to run. Kyyrk did have a reputation, after all.

When Kyyrk caught your scent, there was no where you could run. Nowhere you could hide. Death would come for you sooner or later.

The members of the strike force had been told to attack as they saw fit. But for those timid or patient enough to need a signal, Kyyrk would provide one in short order. As his team's drop-pods slammed into the roof of the installation, the chaos was near instantaneous. Kyyrk's lightsaber roared to life as he launched forward with the door that ejected from his pod. The black clad titan had arrived to Port Luck. Once again, the Ascendancy was at war with the Khanate... ​

Dreidi Xeraic Dreidi Xeraic | Open to interaction
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Titus Dorn

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PORT LUCK

The Regnum Star Legion.

After the fall of the Confederacy, it was hard to find meaning. For the whole of his adult life, Titus had known the defense of the Southern Systems. His motivations for taking up the DAUNTLESS mantle to begin with were simple. When the Agents of Chaos brought devastation to Ryloth, they jeered at the suffering they brought. Celebrated the death. It was enough to cause a patriotic flame to ignite in any young man's soul. And so, the Titus cast away his ambitions and joined one of the greatest fighting forces the nation could muster. But it wasn't enough.

Despite years of training. Despite being among the very best. Despite having the best gear, the best weapons, the best tools, there was next to nothing Titus could do to stop the monsters. He...He still saw them at night. He still felt their blades and claws chewing through his armor while he screamed. Still saw his comrades scattered in pieces around him. Those few, like him, who had survived were a shell of their former selves. So then, after their home fell so violently, how could they go back to a normal life?

The simple answer was - they don't.

Dutifully following what remained of the Confederacy brought Titus to Verun, where he volunteered to defend the budding settlement. Come Hell or High Water, he wouldn't let the fething Khanate sink their fangs in. What was left of his home and his people weren't going to be snuffed out in the middle of nowhere. And that stubborn spirit, that DAUNTLESS strength, kept him going over the last seven years. Now, those who volunteered alongside him? They all banded together into something better. The Regnum Star Legion.

And just like the DAUNTLESS Commandos, they wouldn't let the enemy win. Not without one hell of a fight.

These thoughts rattled about in the Legionnaire's head as his pod hissed into place. Before him stood a fellow survivor of the DAUNTLESS massacre: Tegan Farron Tegan Farron . Both were strapped in. Both were ready for drop. The mission of the day was to bring an rig-turned-slaver-den to heel. For the duo specifically, their target were the anti-air emplacements that were preventing the brunt of the nation's dropships from approaching. From behind his bulky helm, Titus smiled.

"Another day in paradise, eh Farron?"

They wouldn't have much time to chat, as the drop had begun. A mighty hiss. Descent seized his stomach. Impact in three...two...one...KATHOOOOOM! The inertial dampeners prevented the pair from being turned to jelly on impact - but the rattling was still a shock to the man's bones. Wincing like always, Titus released his straps and kicked open the pod's main door. They had slammed clean into the side of the rig, a good distance east of the anti-air emplacements. Above, even more pods were beginning their descent from the heavens.

And the rig's occupants were not going to take it lying down. Almost immediately, a hail of blaster fire greeted the Legionnaire. He lumbered behind cover and returned fire.

"This is Decurion Dorn, we've landed on the east side of the rig!" he called over the local comm. "All nearby forces, push for the guns!"


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ZION, ORBIT

Normal.

For seven years, the Knight had forgotten what normalcy had felt like. Sure, the Ascendancy had done a great job of creating spaces reminiscent of the average, civilized city. Sure, he had money in his pocket, a roof overhead, and the means to support himself. Yet, for Abel normal meant more than survival. Normal meant that the looming sense of dread overhead was no longer present. It meant that he could look to the future, not with fear, but with hope. It was not until recent history that he received good news from a trip to Naboo. One who he had thought dead lived.

And in one afternoon, Abel felt normal again. Normal, as his precious students both lived. Both had survived the Cataclysm. His actions that day were enough to protect them.

Thus, it was hard for the Knight not to have a pep in his step. Even when the mission of the day was to dive into hell, feet first. Above the world of Zion, Abel strolled the hangar of one of the Ascendancy's warships. Together with other Knights, the plan was to go to a rig topside and liberate the slaves kept there. Simple enough. They had done as much before the South went belly-up. But, even though it seemed "routine" for the veterans of the Confederacy, Abel did keep his wits about him.

A good mood, after all, should not translate into stupidity on the battlefield.

Striding forth, Abel noticed one of their own nearby. He raised his dominant hand as he moved over, offering a light wave in greeting. "Ah, there's a familiar face." he began. "Ready to get your feet wet?" The joke was an obvious reference to the oceanic world below. And clearly, Abel thought it was amusing, judging from the smirk plasted upon his lips.​

 

Artemis Verd

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Magni Verd arrived with the AIV Cartagena, its engines demanded attention as it entered the void. The Navarch Uzan reminded the Magni of the fleet that awaited her orders. Neverria was eager to puts its fleet to the test, "your patience will be rewarded, Centurion." Returned Artemis, arms clasped behind her back, head lifted high as she surveyed the tactical maps. "Sentinel Rhamani, are your knights ready?" Her question lingered for mere moments as the armored figure stepped forward.​
"Void Knights at the ready, Magni."​
Artemis allowed the smallest of smiles to appear on her features. "Good."​
"We're nearing orbital drop position," called out the Centurion as the flagship lingered out in the void.​
"Sentinel." Artemis stated, "you have received the preliminary scans, correct?"​
The Sentinel acknowledged, "affirmative."​
Moments later the Sentinel would be dismissed by Magni. Sentinel Rhamani led the Vanguard's Lunar Wraith Chapter - whilst also personally overseeing the Void Knights regiment until she felt someone had proven their worth to become their Paladin. "Reports on the ground indicate heavy AA, suggestions, Centurion?"​
"Wait for the signal," Uzan answered, the blonde hair, blue-eyed Neverrion who damn near towered over Artemis. Neverrions were naturally taller than most humans, wider as well - which was why their ships were built as big as they were. Redundant organs also made them harder to bring down. At a glance? Uzan could be confused with a Human-Hapan hybrid, or Epicant maybe, but no - both accounts would be wrong. "Shall I inform the ground team of our knights arrival?"​
That smile Artemis wore, grew into a smirk. "Of course, we wouldn't want them to shoot first and ask questions later."​
The Cartagena beamed the message to Ascendant ground forces:​
VANGUARD EN ROUTE.
Artemis stepped away from the tactical map and walked toward Uzan, "may I?"​
Uzan took a step back away from the communication console, she gestured and remarked with a polite tone, "of course."​
"Prepare hangar for the drop, Sentinel Rhamani let us know when your knights are ready."​
It wouldn't be long before Rhamani responded. The Cartagena's blue lights came alive throughout the ship as the hangar's drop doors opened and the mechanical hangars brought the pods over the now opened bay. Force fields kept the deck crew from being sucked out into the void. Loud, emergency warnings blared, wailed throughout the hangar crew moved to safety. Once the deck was clear, Rhamani called out. "Vanguard, roll."​
Self-guided engines, coordinates punched in. Drop pods rained down from the Cartagena, breaching through Zion's atmosphere.​
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Teaching at the Medjai Order Temple on Verun
Drop pods... A novel concept, to her at least. And certainly a fiery delivery to the battlefield. The Sith lady emerged from her pod clad in dark armor, with a violet saber in one hand, lightning twining through her fingers in the other, and a look of merciless concentration on her face. Although her expression may be hard to discern given the helm that encased her head protectively. Taking a moment to assess the landing zone she noted a few other pods nearby. Good, they'd managed to shoot straight, nothing worse than being dropped in the wrong location.

As she surveyed the soon to be war ravaged landscape before them, Aliza mentally noted a path she would take to address the AA guns. Mostly because she felt that with plenty of people going for Gaus Philistia and other leadership that there wasn't a huge need for her efforts there. Her senses reached out over the battlespace, searching for any force users that would need to be eliminated or nuetralized, as well as other indications of their forces being bogged down or pushed back.

There where enemies to kill, even better, slavers. Aliza hated them, due to events in her past she usually tried not to think about, she couldn't wait to get her hands on the scum inhabiting Port Luck. Her presence roiled with harnessed emotion, stoked and inflamed to lend her power for the fight, meanwhile her mental processes had an icy clarity as she listened in the battle chatter, before closing up on Kyyrk's squad to follow them into the fray. Mostly because she was comfortable with him, and also because she hadn't exactly formed her own team...
 
SLDFV - 0156 "DEFIANCE"
ZION, ORBIT
LOCAL TIME: 0300 HRS GALACTIC STANDARD
OBJECTIVE: SUPPORT ASCENDANCY GROUND FORCES, CORDONE PLANET

7 years.

7 long and hard years. That's how long Draconis and the SLDF had been at the frontlines. Many hard lessons had been learned during those times. Many had given their lives in service to country and its people. Each sacrifice weighed on the heart of the former Viceroy, Commander of the Surric Local Defense Forces in Exile. What many knew in peace to be a gentle giant, but here a menacing titan. When the fighting had finally cooled down, the SLDF did not let up. They had failed their duty once, but never again would they see their oaths forsaken. Never again would they be found wanting. They all lived to defend the newfound hope in this small corner of the galaxy. They all would fight and die to see her to fruition. So as the Legion formed, the Ascendancy gathered its forces, the SLDF kept the pressure on. Raiding warbands as they tried to cross into Ascendancy space found ships armed to the teeth, with now elite crews who had lived in these vessels for almost a decade waiting. They would fight tooth and nail with these would be invaders, and Draconis would do his duty to his new Dominus. He would buy them time. He would pay for the Ascendancy's chance to strike back with blood and steel. And he would make the Khanate pay bitterly for every life taken.

7 years. 7 years of hell. 7 years of suffering and war.

Now the time to strike back was upon them.

The formation of the Regnum Star Legion was complete, their new leader prepared with an army to rival any that walked the face of the galaxy behind him. What they had lacked in numbers, and equipment, they made up for in resolve and ingenuity in the field. Draconis had seen his pick for the Legatus Rex position prove his worth in battle, and seen he'd recommended the right man for the job. That the Dominus had agreed only verified this fact. Now the SLDF would get a chance to take a more supportive role. It was time for the Legion to show its mettle, bare its fangs, and go for the throat in one of the first of many major offensives in this war. The SLDF would be held as a strategic reserve for this, allowing for the Legion to focus on what it did well. Assault enemy positions with a tenacity and tactical aggression only known to few. To fix, surround, and then annihilate enemy positions with practiced precision and zero hesitation. The Regnum Star Legion was going to be the sword of Damocles that the Dominus would wield to smite their foes. Draconis strode forth across the bridge as he surveyed his men, tired and worn from their non-stop fighting with the Khanate, but ready for battle nonetheless. They waited with bated breath to see how their newfound comrades would fare. He would nod to the men as he stepped towards the turbolift leading to a briefing room.

The SLDF had helped the Vulpes with reconnaissance, seeing as they'd been operating in the area for some time now with a smaller flotilla. Together they'd gathered the needed intel on the planet to ensure a successful all out assault. They'd noted the first obstacle was the world was mostly a vast ocean, with very few platforms on planet that seemed to be repurposed mining platforms. The Star Legion was selected to assault the main platform, with the SLDF sending small assault parties to platforms to make sure there were no holdouts or smaller outposts. Port Luck would be the nut to crack as it were. The potential of hostages on board, with a healthy presence of enemy combatants and anti-aircraft cannons, an aerial assault was out of the question.

So the Fighting 5th would answer the call.

The 5th Marine Regimental Combat Team, otherwise known as 5th MRCT or "The Swamp Rats", was a specialty units from the days of the old SLDF and Confederacy Armed Forces. Their equipment was all hovercraft and repulsorlift vehicles, allowing for deployments to swamps, oceans, or whatever terrain the "treads and legs" couldn't operate. They'd opened their stores of spare vehicles to the Legion as well, meaning that while an assault from the air was out of the question, a waterborne assault wasn't. Hover Infantry Fighting Vehicles could lead the charge across the open water with Hover Tanks support them as they ensured an all out assault from all sides would keep their enemy on the back foot. Draconis had seen them in action many times, and he almost pitied the enemy.

Almost.

Draconis would finally get to the comlink for the Defiance's War Room, the CIC abuzz as various officers and enlisted personnel were busy talking to various ships across the force. As Draconis stepped forward, he would tap the comlink transmit button which emitted a warning tone that a command signal was being emitted to cease other traffic. Draconis would pause as the quick tone went quiet, and he took a breath.

"Brothers and sisters. Members of the Star Legion and SLDF. We have suffered at the task before us in service to our people. For seven years, we fought to hold back the menace at the gates as we fled utter annihilation. For seven years, we stood our ground as wolves surrounded us and prepared to envelope our people. To snuff out the light of hope we held so dear. For seven years, we prepared ourselves, studied at the alter of pain and misery so that we would be ready. For seven years, we took every lesson, every lash, and every blow the Khanate gave us. Comrades and friends, that time has come to an end. The time to prepare, is no more. The time to defend, is long past. It is time to show our enemies the wrath of our glorious Ascendancy and it's people. It is time for the Legion to unsheathe its blade and make martyrs of our enemies! It is time that we take back our people who they have stolen and bring the light of civilization to these uncivilized systems! BROTHERS AND SISTERS, YOU ARE THE TORCH BEARERS OF THE DOMINUS'S FLAME! BRING LIGHT TO THE SHADOWS AND DRIVE THE ASCENDANCY'S FOES BEFORE YOU! BECAUSE OUR TIME FOR VENGEANCE IS UPON US! AD VICTORIUM!"

The surrounding members of the CIC would shout in unison at the end of the speech with a resounding "HOORAH!". Draconis would press the cease transmit button as he walked back towards the bridge. The men had been briefed their objectives by their local commanders. Pilots and crews would sprint out to various vehicles as the hangars went from being a buzz, to a veritable hive of activity. Fighters and bombers would launch as they prepared for the calls of support. Landers would take flight with their cargo of assault hovercraft and marines. Across the fleet drop pods would begin launch protocols as while others had gone ahead, the main force was set to arrive on soon on the backs of flaming pods and hovercraft. The Hobbesian Leviathan would rear its head into the vacuum of space letting out a challenging silent roar.

The Ascendancy was now on the offensive.
 
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Location: Port Hope


Tag: Open


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One thing was for certain; planets of the most outer expanses of the galaxy always seemed to have something of a bizarre quality about them. Perhaps it was the nature of being stranded on the fringes of intellectual civilization. Perhaps it was that nationalistic sense of isolation and self-efficiency. Never needing to rely on another beyond one’s own borders. Yet each seemed bizarre in one manner or another. Many, too, seemed to carry a certain lawlessness about them. And perhaps that is what continuously brought the Adumari man around to such places. The lack of that overbearing arm of a grandiose government. That parental authority to tell them their rules they must follow or be punished. Such worlds offered an oasis of entertainment to one such as Korvis. And even physically the people would no doubt dress in many precarious forms and fashions, with equally peculiar behaviors.

Yet here in Zion, that did not seem the case. On the surface here, it seemed as though the denizens of the world walked on eggshells. Careful not to misstep in fear of some sort of repercussion to befall them. Why? In all honesty, Korvis didn’t really care. He wasn’t here for politics. Wasn’t here for leisure. No, Korvis was simply here to deliver an unmarked container of goods. A job organized by - or at least signed by - a Gaus Philistia, whoever that was. It didn’t matter to him. He was just here for the delivery and to get paid.

And so he was here, arms crossed over his chest, his body in a lazy lean-to against the frame of the cargo ramp to his ship.

He waited.

It wouldn’t be long. Soon enough four brutish looking men approached, drabbed in similar looking uniforms of sorts. Obviously off the same organization, whatever that was.

“Delivery for Gaus Philistia,” of the brutish figures asked, his voice gruff and seemingly distorted, aided by some sort of mechanical contraption.

“If you’ve got my money,” Korvis responded. He pulled himself upright now, standing aloof now, yet straighter than he had before.

“Is that the package,” the brute asked again, his hand motioning to the rectangular crate behind Korvis.

“Yes,” Korvis replied once more. There was an unsurety in his voice, inferring that his response had been both an answer and follow-up inquiry simultaneously.

The lead brute waved an arm and the other three began to move around Korvis and toward the package.

Quick to react, Korvis took a couple steps back making various motions with his hands to dissuade the approach of the three brutes.
“Woah, woah, woah now gentlemen. Don’t you know how this works,” he said. “You give me the money. I give you the goods. I carry on my way. No harm, no foul.”

“Or,” the lead brute started, “you give us the goods and we let you leave with your life.” He paused, his eyes narrowing into what seemed to mirror a leer of sorts. “No harm, no foul.”

“Nah,” Korvis retorted back. “That’s not how this works.” Korvis shrugged and casually let his hand slide down to his right hip, close to the grip of his WESTAR-35 blaster pistol. “Tell your boss if he wants his package, he’ll pay what’s owed. Otherwise, I’m sure I can find another interested party for the contents of this package.” He smiled with the utmost insincerity, but before he could really react, Korvis felt of fist collide with his lower back. A kidney shot.

He let loose a huff of air as he dropped to a knee, but before he could fully recover, he found himself face down on the pavement, arms pressed and held behind his back. In a matter of seconds, he was bound in some kind of aftermarket, unregistered version of stun cuffs and being yanked back to his feet.
“Oh, you’re going to regret this.”

The brutish man laughed as they led him deeper into the port where he’d eventually find himself in a ragtag metallic holding cell.


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Objective 2
Tags: Abel Denko Abel Denko | Luna Evanstance Luna Evanstance | Illyria Le Fey Illyria Le Fey | Meili Feng Meili Feng | Artemis Verd | Draconis Sederius Wolf Draconis Sederius Wolf | Korvis Laerann Korvis Laerann
Equipment: Single blade Lightsaber, Armourweave clothing
Dreidi looked around and sighed, everyone seemed to be rushing off to war. It felt so familiar, too familiar. She remembered when the CIS went to war against the Maw, bombarded while on the planet surface. It was a terrifying and while Dreidi knew that the tanks and stay at hospital meant that she bore no scars from her injuries, she could feel the pain and remember the terror that gripped at her heart. She wasn't sure how she was going to ever go into battle and not feel all that once again. It was just there and no amount of therapy could help that. At least that was the feeling she had towards the whole situation that she was in. She sighed out deeply and rocked on her toes as she looked around.

She heard the voice of someone she had seen but not really held a conversation with and offered a polite smile and wave, she was still feeling a little on edge with battle nerves. She had hoped the extensive training she had pushed herself through would have helped with this but she knew it hadn't. One wrong mistake and she was staying in the nether permanently. Looking at him when he asked if she was ready to get her feet wet, "Uh. Su..." Coughing, she tried to cover the voice crack in her throat as she tried to talk to this man, "Yeah. Sure. Should be good to help the Ascendency maintain peace around here, right?" She was hoping this was all for maintaining peace, though going to war to keep the peace didn't sound like they were actually in peaceful times right now.

Then there was a loud rant of a booming voice. It was a war chant, someone who seemingly took joy in warfare and fighting battles. For Dreidi, it didn't boost her moral rather questioned her resolve. Was this the right course of action? Should they be having someone getting that pumped for battle? In her mind, she was thinking of her Jedi training where war was the final option. When all else failed, when the enemy gives you no alternatives, then you go to war. Dreidi wasn't sure how she felt about the message but every soldier around her chanted back and seemingly looked pumped to drop down to planet side.

"So, what is your mission when we reach the planet?" She asked Abel, still unsure what she should really be doing once she reaches the planet. "My Master isn't here so I can't really follow her lead on the mission." Dreidi admitted, it was something she was use to admitting nowadays since Asaraa stayed back, which was fine. It was one less person that Dreidi had to worry about dying and her being unable to do anything to prevent it. "Would it be rude to tag along with you?"​
 



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For the better part of the last seven years Taiia along with Allyson Locke Allyson Locke and Laneya Wexler Laneya Wexler had been scarce on Verun. Some of the time away was spent ferrying supplies to the fledgling nation. Yet at the same time there was time spent delving into the mysteries of the Force and learning more about Medjai and the Unmaker as best they were able to find.

The familiar redhead made her way into the hangar slowly, in those past seven years she had barely used her lightsaber beyond keeping her skills sharp. She had stepped back from the order to a degree as well. The events of Naboo still weighed on her quite frankly and it had made her question getting involved again. Allyson of course would protect Taiia and keep her away likewise Lana would have never let her go alone.

Yet here she was with neither at her side, because frankly she needed to stand on her own again and the call of the Dominius was that opportunity. She didn't care much for this 'Empire' historically the name didn't invoke warm feelings especially where force users were concerned. Where the Confederacy championed liberty, setting aside politics she had deemed the goal of this operation worthy to make an appearance.

As she walked she reached up and pulled her crimson hair back, tying it quickly into a lose pony tail. The self conciousness of her ears had clearly waned. Emerald eyes scanned the hangar as she found a gathering of knights nearby she stepped lightly toward them.

She didn't know how much of Medjai's power remained within her but today she would learn.


 
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"Still, Forward"

The Climb was perilous, and yet all too simple for her, cybernetic enhancements making it possible not only efficiently, but quickly. Using each segment and crisscross as an avenue to ascend up to the very base of the platform. Eventually, finding herself pulled up on the edge of the platform, another in the distance, on the other side of the pier was obvious, and was her first objective today. Or so she thought...

As soon as he boots hit the ground, she heard the grumbling voice of a Khanite sentry, leaving the observation booth high above the pier, and took cover on the corner, hiding from his sight. Ignorant of what he was saying, she would peek around the corner to see what he was doing, but more importantly who he was talking too. Whoever it was seemed to be inside. Iella watched him briefly, before slapping her palm against the duracrete she leaned against, making a few obviously foreign sounds to catch his attention.

It worked. He glanced back at the blind corner at first in surprise, then began a steady walk in her direction to investigate. She would do nothing at first, simply staying at the corner and closing her eyes to listen, removing the Bow from her back and sliding down to gently rest it on the grating that made up the floor for the platform. The footsteps were quick, and without hesitance, but she was ready for him. Swiftly, and without hesitation. That was how she had to act, just like before, though with purpose now.

As he turned the corner, she spun into him, a left hook hitting him hard in the kidney before he had the chance to utter his surprise. The impact was devastating, causing blood to sputter from his lips immediately though she wasn't done with him, her right hand moving to uppercut him, the blow itself gruesome, and beyond deserving any description Iella carefully caught his corpse and gently laid him to the ground before dragging the much taller man slightly behind cover.

She took her still retracted bow, and stood moving casually to the doorway before peeking in. Two more, one seemingly half asleep, with the other busily entering data into the ports registry system. She would first stow her primary weapon on her back before opening the door and walking in with a smooth singular motion, moving directly towards the more aware party and placing a hand on his chin, with the other palming his scalp. He was laughing when she snapped his neck, assuming it was his friend from before.

As she had extinguished her second foe, she would snap her head to the third; still sound asleep or trying to be. Pathetic. Iella approached him, moving to his rear and repeated the process, effectively taking the South-West tower, and rendering opfor observation inert from that direction. Speaking of which, she would walk back towards the main console, opening a station wide communication channel, but not saying anything, simply leaving the PTT key pressed down.

It was a tragedy with older systems like this, only one person could speak at a time. For the Khanate, it would've been highly detrimental, as now the only thing they would hear is nothingness if they were to try contacting one another (unless they used communication methods that weren't wired into the ports).

Impact in three...two...one...KATHOOOOOM! The inertial dampeners prevented the pair from being turned to jelly on impact - but the rattling was still a shock to the man's bones. Wincing like always, Titus released his straps and kicked open the pod's main door. They had slammed clean into the side of the rig, a good distance east of the anti-air emplacements. Above, even more pods were beginning their descent from the heavens.

The Thud was loud as it was, and Iella would stare at it, before letting her eyes pan out the panoramic view to see even more craft making their landings. She went to the door, pulling her bow yet again, but this time would press a button to bring it into a ready position, drawing an armor piercing arrow from her back and taking a knee.

Now came the fun part. Shooting the fish in the barrel. Finally, she would activate her own comms channel, offering a single notification to Titus Dorn

"Overwatch Secure, Awaiting Targets..."

She said simply, watching their progress from afar with vision that would put the keenest of avian hunters to shame.



Titus Dorn Kyyrk Kyyrk




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Objective: HUNT
Location: Port Luck, Level 5
Tag: Ciri Jade Ciri Jade || Open

Weapons
Compact SMG w/ 4 - 20 round magazines
B2 rifle 'Oathkeeper'
SGP-12
Shadow's Sting (gauntlets)
"Silence" shotosaber
"Viper's Bite" assassin's knife

Gear
Utility belt
Suppressor for SMG
SOAR - Slicing Operation Assistance Routine
Smoke grenades (2)
2x-4x Scope (1) - When not attached to B2 rifle
Medi-kit (1)

Armor:
Norris root dyed leatheris trench coat
PD-00 "Second Skin" Light Armor

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The faint blue glow of a rotating holographic bust illuminated the datapad laying on the floor in front of Tess. The bust floating before Tess was that of a high priority of the Dominus: Gaus Philistia. The objective was to capture them alive, and kill them as last resort. Most likely positions: protected in their personal quarters, in their ‘war room’ planning defenses against the invasion, or working their way toward an escape route. The latter was least likely unless Gaus was certain defeat was imminent.

Tess looked up from the datapad toward her droid companion, “Error, I need a three-dee of these maps.” The little BD unit stopped its projection of the target and scrambled across the small dim-lit room toward the scomp-terminal and plugged in. After a minute of clicking and whirring, BD-404 looked back at Tess and a three-dimensional display of the entire station was displayed before her. A small blinking dot indicated her position on the fifth level of the ocean-bound structure. An east sector about two levels below started flashing red as the sound of multiple impacts hit the easternmost part of the rig.

“That would be the distraction we were waiting for. The welcome party will be out to greet them soon, like the hive of scum and villainy it is. We need to meet up with our Raven and find our target.” She said drawing a path from the small blinking light to a slightly open area, "from here we will have to decide the most likely place to search for our target.” Two areas lit up green indicating Gaus’ quarters on the south side of the fifth level and the structure housing the command center/war room on the fourth level.

“Disconnect Error, we need to move.”

Tess quickly gathered her rifle and other things and extended her arm for her small droid. BD-404 jumped from the terminal and climbed its way to her shoulder. Opening the door to the hovel they had been hiding in Tess started toward the rendezvous point she had sent to Ciri Jade before the mission. The streets were narrower than that of a normal city, almost reminding her of the undercity of Coruscant. Twisting this way and that she quickly made her way to the plaza area and looked around to see if she could spot her contact.

 

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ZION - ORBIT
En Route to Port Luck
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The conversation leading up to the offensive had been...interesting.

For some time now, the ashen-haired Signifer of the Jericho had been honing her talents. She was already an exceptional leader, officer, and engineer. Yet there was one particular gift that she had shunned for the majority of her life. It was one of the things that she and the Vampyre had in common, in fact. But, they had two very opposing views about it. At least initially. Where Yeshua viewed the Force as a gift, Finnea viewed it as something to be shunned and controlled. And control it, she did. Yeshua never asked any questions when it came to the nature of her training, but the results spoke for themselves.

He could feel the changes radiating within her. Feel her strength growing as she continued to understand. And when she reached a point of confidence, the Centurion suggested something...unorthodox. As a Navarch of the Legion, commanding just their capital ship was no longer his purvue. He could just as easily fly a dropship into battle and provide close support to those on the ground. In fact, it was a lovely excuse to get his own boots dirty for a change.

It took some convincing, prodding, and bribery, but the Vampyre was able to encourage the Engineer to accept his plan. Thus, when it came time to move on Zion, the AIV Jericho slid into position alongside the rest of the Ascendancy's warships. However, the commanding officer soon left command to their third and made for the hangar. As he led the way into the turbolift, he offered a toothy grin towards the ashen-haired Decurion beside him.

"It's not everyday you get to see me in action." he said, almost too enthusiastically.


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P O R T _L U C K
Zion, Philistia System
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Portraying: Gaus Philistia

Why couldn't today be normal?

It seemed as though fate was out to get Gaus Philistia. At least, that was what the magnate told himself in the mirror. In most recent history, his dear sire had demanded an in-person meeting for the household. Now, Gaus was not the sort to turn down an opportunity like this. After all, his ninth circle of Hell was charming...but it did the man's complexion no favors. To say that he enjoyed living on a rig, in an ocean, on a planet far removed from anything interesting was a stretch. But, it was a curse he dealt with gladly. For when dear old papa finally kicked the bucket, it would be his turn to delegate the objectively shit assignments.

But, while Gaus was all too keen to get off Zion, an in-person summons could only mean one thing: trouble. Someone, somewhere, had screwed the pooch - and it would most likely fall to the Philistia's heir apparent to figure it out. Ugh. Why couldn't the day be normal? Why couldn't his father beckon him when things were going right, hmm? Hell. Why couldn't his clients be a touch more expedient when browsing the stock? Bah. Nothing was ever satisfactory around these parts.

Gaus slid into his seat. A gilded armchair that he had taken as payment for a couple Togruta girls years ago. Frankly, Gaus thought the man paid too much, but he would never turn down a good cushion. A solemn huff escaped his lips as he raised his feet expectantly. One...Two... He cleared his throat dangerously, and straightaway a Rodian came crawling forward. The man was clearly past his prime and would most likely die in his cell. After all, who went to a pet store looking for an older dog? Ha. This one was fit for nothing more than being a footrest.

And that's exactly what the Rodian was.

Gaus settled his boots square along the man's spine and produced his datapad. He'd have to let his clients know that he'd be away for some time. Perhaps even introduce a sale of sorts to encourage last minute buying. And that's when it hit. The thunderous sound which damn near rocked Gaus out of his chair. "What the fuck was that?" he said aloud. He tapped furiously on his datapad, which kicked on a larger screen in the room. "Toni, I told you to inform me when there was bad weather coming."

The armored Human on the other side looked worse for wear. Sweating. Barking orders. This wasn't a storm. Well, not in the natural sense. "Sorry boss, this ain't no typhoon. We're under attack."

"I. Beg. Your. Pardon?" The magnate was offended. Who would dare step on the Philistia family's territory? Who would target such a reputable place of business? Why, compared to the rest of the Expanse's savagery, Port Luck was a gilded commercial hub.

"Looks like the Ascendants are making a play. We'll do what we can, but most likely you'll need to evac."

Gaus sighed. "You're lucky that I was on my way out anyway. But I don't like the idea of my work being trampled on."

"Evac as last resort. Got it."

"That's my boy. Keep me posted, ta-ta." The magnate dropped the call with a lilt to his voice. Yet, as soon as the connection died, his eyes rolled. Meanwhile, all across the rig the alarms were sounding. The defenders of Port Luck were an odd mix of armored mercenaries and construction droids that had been armed to the teeth. The vessels drawing near by air were greeted by a hail of anti-aircraft fire, whilst the hovercraft drawing near by sea found a hail of blaster bolts being fired by the droids. The mercenaries themselves focused inward and began to directly engage those emerging from the drop pods. In but the span of a few moments, Port Luck went from an ordinary day to a messy one.

And all Gaus Philistia could think was: why couldn't it be a normal day?


 
When Yeshua explained his plan of action, her immediate and unexpected reaction was to laugh as if he had told her a really good joke and returning her attention back to her screens that let her know of the ships status and read through some important reports regarding this mission. When she realised he was NOT joking, the engineer thought he was starting to go mad and should be locked up in his quarters until he had better ideas. She had even told him this and he didn't get an easy time convincing the stubborn Decurion. Her opinion was of that they had specialized in warfare from these ships, many hours had been laid down to perfect the communication internally and frankly... she hated the thought of how much of an risk it was. He could get gravelly wounded, or worse...
She said no, and kept arguing fiercely against him until he somehow managed to put it down in a way that convinced her to look into it and slowly agree. He had a way of doing so, that nobody else mastered. By the end of their conversation, it seemed she'd soon have dirt on her shiny boots too.

A few years back, and the idea of coming along would have been out of the question. She was an engineer, a bookworm even with very little experience in the physical battlefield apart from basic military training. But she had grown, and her connection with the force was starting to feel solid thanks to her hard training on Icarus. Now she mastered some valuable techniques, but most of all, she knew dire situations might just trigger something bigger. If not...well... chit.

"It's not everyday you get to see me in action."
The engineer walking with quick steps at the Centurions side was glaring up at him, blowing some of that white hair from her face, hugging her pad close to herself. It contained all the information she had gathered for the mission but more importantly to her, it had her last argument against going; statistics clearly pointing out the odds of the mission being a success. It...wasn't bad, but it wasn't good either! And Finnea wasn't known for being optimistic.
"Sir! If that dropship doesn't land within 60 metres from our targeted location, I am sorry to say, you'll face more action than I'd care to watch! Please, consider my second suggestion?"

Her second suggestion, of course, to send another officer in his place, preferably Hals - a lazy man in her opinion whom she didn't care for at all as he kept making her work difficult at times by continuing to questioning her approach to certain tasks and annoying her by deliberately relocate gear or working droids.

"Please?"

Yeshua Yeshua
 


It had been a long time since Illyria Le Fey held a lightsaber in her hand, and it had been ever long since she had done so in the name of the Confederacy. Except it was the Ascendancy now. Even so when Abel had called her, the young noble had not hesitated in answering his call despite how long it had been since she'd been associated with them.​
It wasn't that she was afraid although even after seven long years she'd not come to terms with past traumas, such as Lorta, and the emotional damage done from being a noble-born. But it was evident she was nervous.​
As she arrived at the hanger her mind was racing between a dozen different thoughts and she wore an almost vacant stare. She thought about her family home on Naboo who were once again mad at her for 'abandoning them' to go galavanting with Abel. She thought about those joining them on this mission and wondered if anyone remembered her, or even if they liked her enough to want her here.​
At the end of the day, she supposed it didn't matter.​
They were all on the same team.​
"What?" She said when Abel's voice bought her crashing back to reality. It occurred to her too late that he hadn't actually been speaking with her but was instead speaking with a young woman. Illyria flushed in embarrassment and cleared her throat before muttering quietly. "Oh, I'm sorry. never mind."​

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PORT, HOLDING CELLS
tag: Korvis Laerann Korvis Laerann | Var Talon Var Talon
wearing: xXx

Sylvia had never been much of a planner when it came to missions; she was a rule-breaker and a risk-taker but one could rest assured that come hell or high water, she'd get the job done. And to make it perfectly clear - she was both the hell and the high water.

It hadn't come as a surprise when she'd matter-of-factly informed those involved in liberating the cells that she'd lead the way. What had been the surprise was the way she intended to do it. Sylvia had made herself a target, had let herself become a prisoner, all with the intention of being thrown in some dingy cell, and having her belongings confiscated; including the tracking device that had been hidden within the parts of her blaster.

That little secret would lead Var and the others to her.

Sylvia wasn't worried - not in the slightest.

Var would find her.

He'd promised, obviously when she'd told him the plan - told him, not asked, he'd been absolutely livid. There had been some choice words shared between them but he knew her well enough that when her mind was set to something, there was no talking her out of it. Sylvia had kissed him goodbye, kissed him as though it was their last day, and now she was sitting in a cell waiting for him. Her hands were bound behind her back, and she was sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall, quiet and calm.

Her eyes opened when she heard the sounds of another prisoner being bought in. Sylvia couldn't help but smugly smile knowing that these imprisoned people wouldn't be imprisoned for all that much longer. She rested her head back against the wall, listening as the door was opened, someone was hauled inside, and the door was slammed shut.

"Trouble at the Port, huh?"

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Location: En-route to Zion, ASV - Gladiator
Objective: Brief and prepare for planetary assault
Time: 1 hour before drop
Personal Combat Rig, DART rifle, HP-001 (blaster configuration), frag/stun grenades, lightsaber

Damian was sitting in the briefing hall for this vessel as he looked across the men and women he'd be leading to the surface. In his time since being promoted and then selected as Legatus Rex, he'd not had much time to waste in this position. Which was good for him considering that it left him with little time to wonder or fear about other issues. So when the Dominus had finally selected this target with the objective to go on the offensive, Damian didn't question the order, didn't ask what why or how. He simply replied "Yes my lord,". For the better part of two months they'd recce'd the planet, identifying the main port as the primary objective. With access to what little reserves the SLDF had remaining, and with his own army now mustered and readied for war, this planet would be a fateful first step. And they all knew it. The crowd would get hushed as Damian finally stood and approached the holotable, each of them realizing the briefing was about to begin.

"Good evening gentlemen, ladies. I know you all have heard the rumors, in one hour's time we are set to hit the planet Zion. This will be the first of many major offensives to push back the Khanate, and secure Ascendancy space. Now," he pressed a button pulling up a 3D map of the target a large rig "This will be our primary objective. The locals call it Port Luck. Here is the main lifeline of the Khanate to the outside world, where they are able to funnel illicit goods such as slaves, drugs, and other items for weapons, food, and credits. Our primary objective is to seize this platform, and its leader, Gaus Phillista," a side image would appear portraying a basic rendering of the man's face, before Damian went back to focusing on the main objective.

"We have two primary routes of infiltration, this is a mostly ocean world so our main point of ingress will be via drop pod. There isn't a lot of space on the platform so if you miss, be prepared to swim to the rig. The larger secondary force however will be making waterfall via dropships and ingressing on the back of hovercraft. Intelligence has reported locations of defensive batteries here," he pressed another button showing a number of red dots across the rig "They will not discriminate on targets, and shoot both air and water based targets as they present. Drop troops, I want those batteries silenced as your primary objective, and support the Medjai as able but you are not to deviate from knocking out their defenses. Speed is of the essence, and if we can corner the leader of this place, we can enforce a surrender. When the defenses are finally destroyed and an air corridor is clear we will begin bringing in landers to evac any civilians we are able, and also bring on more forces onto the platform. Secondary plan is to get civilians to hovercraft if we cannot designate a proper LZ, with landers performing water landings next to the rig. Any questions?"

The room was silent. They all knew that the Legatus didn't mean any questions with how they were to accomplish the objectives, but rather as to what the objectives were. Their training and experience told them that they would find a way to do it once boots on the ground, and to have multiple plans in place for each assault group. Whether it was explosives, shooting the controls, or rigging something on site, Damian did not care. He just wanted it done. And they all understood. Damian would see that they had no questions and would dismiss them before making his way to the armory. He would begin loading up his kit and preparing for drop as any leader would. His expectation was to lead from the front by example, and they would not find him sitting back watching some holotable. His place was on the battlefield with his men.

------------------- PRESENT ------------------
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Damian could hear the whistling in his ears as the pod shook him violently. The rides through atmosphere were always roller coasters, and the first mistake most droppers made was not strapping themselves into their pods properly. And for every one of them, it was a mistake they only made once. Damian's mind thought back to his days as a Sith Shock Trooper, the heavy armor, weapons, and the very same feeling of anticipation coursing through his veins as they dropped yet again onto another world. His thinking wouldn't have time to settle on it long as with every drop, it seemed that once it had started, it suddenly was over with a slam signaling he'd hit the ground. As he tapped his strap buckle's quick release, the explosive bolts on the pod activated, firing the door outward with a loud bang. The veteran surged forward like water being unleashed from a dam, flowing out of the pod with lethal grace and effectiveness as his rifle would snap up, and his eyes would find the first target that presented itself. A triple tap would bark from the rifle as he kept moving to the nearest cover. Around him he could hear other pods slamming into the ground, the exchanges of blaster fire and gunfire raging across the rig as comms leapt to life. Around him squads linked up and began their assault, heavy assault troopers in power armor backed with light infantry in their signature dusters. Damian would rise from his position behind cover and begin firing overhead into several enemies on a rafter shooting down on them. He would raise a hand and signal a nearby squad to assault forward as he spoke into the comms.

"Dorn, Frost, I'm on the ground. Get those guns silenced and give me an up when done. I'm western side of the platform, we're assaulting now! Vanguard will hit the center and we'll link up there!" Damian ducked as a rocket slammed next to him letting a small curse come through his teeth as he stood once more and fired back at the shooter. "I have gunners and snipers in the rafters! I want them gone! All commands are to sitrep in two mikes, Frost out!"

Damian would then vault over his cover and sprint forward as pulled the butt stock of his rifle into his arm pit leaving his other arm free. He saw another Legionaire laying on the ground from the blast and quickly ran to him, scooping him up by the collar and dragging him forward to several crates as overhead snipers rained down on their position. The man he was dragging would scream in pain as his leg was mangled from shrapnel and Damian had to block it out as he kept running. He would have to place the man's life over his limb. As he finally got to the crates he dropped the man, doing a quick security sweep before looking down and beginning his triage. It wasn't looking good. A compound fracture, with lots of blood as the femur and thigh was now little better than a bag of bones. The man was back to moaning now as Damian quickly ripped off his tourniquets and began cinching down the man's leg to stop the bleed.

"Hey, HEY, stay with me, you are not allowed to die on me, understood?" He barked at the man, hoping to break through the haze that was surely forming as the legionnaire was going into shock. Having done immediately what he could he yelled out as he took up a shooting position and began returning fire. "MEDIC! MEDIC! I NEED A MEDIC!"

Another trooper would run forward who had a larger backpack on. The red cross symbol on his helmet signifying what he was, the brave soul ran forward with little thought that he was telegraphing his importance to every sniper in the area. Damian would step out of his covered position and draw fire as he began shooting all of the positions where he'd seen shots come from. If a kill were to be gained from the shots he would have been happy, but his intent was to suppress the enemy as the medic dove in where the patient was laying. He could hear a small stream of curses come from the medic as he stepped back into cover and tapped him on the shoulder.

"You got him?"

The man simply nodded and went to work, pulling open his back of drugs and tools as he began working on his new patient. Damian noted that the legionnaire's rifle was still strapped to his body, so they had a weapon if someone got too close. He needed to continue pushing the assault. So he stood and began moving forward. They had no time to lose, every second they wasted they would sacrifice more lives. They had taken the initiative, but it would be on them to keep it and push the enemy on the back foot.
 

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