Invasion Thou Shall Not Suffer an Empire to Live | AoC invasion of CIS-held Siskeen & Ryloth

Nerium | Herah
Location: Capital Bio-Dome

Lieutenant Ryk Gaelir, Dauntless Marine, had prepared for a wide variety of situations in his training. He'd learned how to scale smooth walls hundreds of meters high, to swim for kilometers on end in his full gear and blaster strapped on his back, to work and survive in nearly any sort of environment. He'd been mentally conditioned for battlefield stress, for the inevitable shell-shock of explosions and death around him.

But one thing basic hadn't trained him for was a celebration. Colorful streamers floated throughout the circulated air of the Twi'lek biodome, and the cacophony around him was not one of shells and screams, but of cheers and revelry. Families walked through the fairgrounds each other, parents holding the hand of their children or watching with approving smiles as their younglings joined in the celebrations with their friends and kin. It was an atmosphere that was happy, relaxed, and free.

And it felt so alien to Ryk.

He'd spent so much of his life training for the battlefield, and now had served on the battlefield, that he'd almost forgotten what a celebration was like. The last time he'd had any sort of celebration had been the day they'd finished basic, the night before their first deployment -- and that 'party' had only been such because they had actually been given hard alcohol and a meal of more than protein cubes. This entire event was entirely foreign to him, and it set Ryk off on edge. But no matter what comfort he felt on the inside, he made sure not to show it on the outside.

Ryk was there, along with the rest of his brothers and sisters in the Dauntless 701st Mobile Infantry, informally known as Titan Battalion, had been deployed to Ryloth for a week now to engage in training exercises with the Ryloth Defense Force, an able militia of Twi'lek volunteers that had gained their reputation at the battle of Ryloth months earlier. They had spent their few days together doing mock combat exercises, pathfinding routines through the harsh wilderness of Ryloth, and engaging in some battle tactic lectures and camaraderie. It had now culminated in this freedom celebration, this Founder's March, and the 701st and the Ryloth militia walked through the parades and partying as brothers-in-arms.

Ryk and his platoon now walked with a platoon from the Ryloth Defense Force, led by a Twi'lek by the name of Nom Carvor. Lieutenant Carvor was a good soldier and friend, although he had a habit of flashing his pointed teeth in a predator-like fashion that unnerved Ryk ever so slightly. But outside of that, Ryk had learned that Carvor was well-licked by the soldiers under him, and Ryk's platoon had begun to warm to the lieutenant's ribald jokes and tales of Ryloth before the Confederacy. Carvor had been part of an underground anti-slavery movement before the Confederacy had arrived, spending day and night fighting against crime lords and slavers who wanted to take advantage of his people.

Carvor had dedicated his life, before and after the Confederacy, towards protecting his people and kin. Seeing the fire burning in his eyes as he spoke of his devotion to Ryloth and the Confederacy that had saved them was inspiring, to say the least. In turn, Carvor and his men had listened to the stories traded by Ryk's platoon of training on freezing cold mountains, of fighting along with natives on far-off dusty worlds. The two platoons had bonded so tightly it was almost beginning to feel like they were of the same unit, and the Founder's March -- and with it, the last day before the 701st were to be redeployed -- weighed heavily on everyone's minds.

But for now, Ryk and his men in Titan Battalion were determined to spend their last day on Ryloth by having fun, whatever that was. He had already tried the delicious Twi'lek fried dough and barbecued Rycrit meat, although his training nagged at him in the back of his mind as he consumed the blatantly unhealthy foods. He'd have to do extra PT to burn off the celebration, he knew, but it had been so long since Ryk had had anything that could be properly called food. These concessions would do.

Ryk was in the middle of tearing off a chewy piece of fried dough off a stick, spiced and sugared to an almost heavenly degree, his blaster rifle slung over his shoulder as he walked. Lieutenant Carvor and five or so of his men walked to his left, while Sergeant Dixonn and Privates Caller and Jota from his own platoon walked on his right. They had been, up until a few moments ago, manning a small recruiting station where a dozen or so teenaged Twi'leks had been clamoring to show their physical prowess to the soldiers there. With Ryk and his companions momentarily relieved of duty, however, they were free to enjoy themselves for a bit.

That was when the first message came -- an ominous warning broadcasted over the speakers of the bio-dome. The threat in it turned on every battle-hardened instinct that Ryk had, and his fried dough was thrown aside, forgotten. He turned on his heel to Lieutenant Carvor, unslinging his rifle in a fluid motion as he did so to see that the Twi'lek was already looking in question towards Ryk. Whatever was happening, the Lieutenant was obviously just as in the dark as Ryk was. It was only seconds later when a ping came over on Ryk's secure comm, and he opened the message.

"I’m sure you all heard what I did and have many questions," came the voice of someone that Ryk recognized as Grand Marshal Luna Terrik, someone he'd only seen holos and posters of. She continued, giving orders to the marines and defense force assets. "Unfortunately, now is not the time to answer them. All you do need to know is that you are to prepare yourselves for what is to come. Squad leaders, get your men organized, and headed back toward the base camp, just outside the city. From there we will organize our response. Vehicle transportation is preferred. Get moving."

Signing off of the comm, there was no question for what Ryk had to do. The Twi'lek and 701st alike had gathered around them to hear the message, and they all knew what to do. Instantly, Ryk turned towards Sergeant Dixonn, who had been a friend of his since before basic training. "I need you to get the rest of the platoon. Gather your squads and head towards the rendezvous, and keep your eyes peeled. We don't know who our enemy is, and there are enough civies to turn any engagement into a massacre."

Dixonn nodded, and without a word peeled away from the group, shouting into his comms as he did so. With the sergeant gone, Ryk turned towards the remaining men -- Carvor and his men, and the two 701st privates that had been with him and Dixonn. He addressed the former first. "Lieutenant, you're free to join with your people. Don't let me hold you back."

Carvor gave another one of his sharp-toothed grins in return. "With all respect, Lieutenant Gaelir, but Ryloth is my home. Our home. I'll be blasted if I'm not on the frontlines with you defending it," he said with vigor and conviction, putting a steady hand on Ryk's shoulders.

Ryk smiled. Even now, Carvor showed the same dedication as always. He returned the gesture, putting his hand on Carvor's in a show of brotherhood. "I'm honored to be able to fight with you. Now," he said turning to the rest of the men. "There's a garage nearby that should have some transports, at the very least. You should all know how to drive a speeder, so we'll be the 'designated drivers' for the rest of our men. Now, let's get to it," Ryk said with finality, and the assembled soldiers hooted their approval.

The Twi'leks and Marines set out at a military jog, justling their way through the startled, confused, and uncertain crowd. More than once a concerned mother or worried shopkeeper would call out to the moving soldiers, asking what was going on, what was happening. Ryk wished he could reply, but even he didn't know. At this point, all he could do was follow the orders that he had been given, and see them done to the best of his ability.

As they rounded a corner, the holofeeds began to display another message -- a Twi'lek bounded and gagged, a gruesome sight, surrounded by what looked to be revolutionaries. Then, with the Twi'lek pleading for mercy, they beheaded him with a sick and bloody sound emanating from the bio-domes speakers, children, and parents alike crying out with shock, disgust, and fear. Ryk was disgusted, if not revolted, as well. These weren't revolutionaries -- they were terrorists.

After more minutes of their quickstep, they finally made it to the district of the garage -- a residential area left abandoned with everyone in the city center for the square. The only sounds made was the crunching of the soldier's boots on the ground beneath them, and the occasional screech of flying creature overhead. When they finally reached the garage itself, they found it completely abandoned too but for one Twi'lek on guard. Carvor grunted a greeting, which was replied, and the two grasped their arms -- the guard and Carvor were evidently familiar with each other.

Ryk let the display of brotherhood play out as he walked up to the large, shuttered bay of the garage. Entering his secure Pincode, he let the bay doors open before he, his men, and the Twi'lek soldiers walk inside. The bay was clean and cool, each speeder and transport sitting neatly in its individual port. "Gaelir," Carvor called out. "I'll take the bikes and the open-cover; my brothers should have their own vehicles with them. Will the rest of the transports work?"

Ryk took into inventory what they had, nodding in reply to the Twi'lek. There were multiple individual heavy transports, enough to carry twenty men each, but they had only three including him to drive them. It wasn't nearly as much as Ryk had hoped for, but it would do. "Caller, Jota, you two take your own transport and gather up as many as you can. Get to it," he said quickly, and the Privates responded accordingly, hopping in the driver's seats and veritable tearing out of the garage. Ryk looked to his own transport and back to the Twi'lek. "Carvor. Youll meet up at the rendezvous?"

The Twi'lek turned to respond, another sharp grin on his face. He opened his mouth to speak, and then the world became one of fire and heat.

The explosion ripped through the garage, propelling Ryk into the back of the transport, his back slamming into the hard metal of the transport speeder. Bright spots danced in Ryk's eyes, and after he had recovered from the winding impact of being thrown back, he found himself coughing dust and particles of thermite and permeate. His senses returned to him, and where there had been a hangar now was rubble, ruins, and a gaping hole opening into a much wider cave entrance. A tunnel, Ryk realized, his eyes widening.

And then he remembered his fellow soldier in his arm. His friend. His brother.

When Ryk had finally managed to dig Carvor out of the pile, the Twi'leks handsome face was a mess of dust and blood. Ryk was normally a calm, centered individual, but looking at his comrade's broken and battered body, he found his voice catching in the back of his throat. Carvor opened his eyes weakly, looking at Ryk crouched over him. Faintly, the Twi'lek gave one more smile, his lips furling away to reveal his pointed teeth, preserved from the blast. Barely a whisper, Nom Carvor, Ryk's friend and companion over this last week, uttered his final words.

"Fight well. . . Gaelir. Protect. . . her. Protect. . . my Ryloth."

The light faded from Carvor's eyes, and for the first time in his life, Ryk fought back tears. His fingers trembled as he closed Carvor's eyelids and carefully set his body down, standing up. He stood there for several seconds, staring at the Twi'leks lifeless body before he finally found himself again. He was Ryk Gaelir. He was a soldier. And he would not let Nom Carvor's death be in vain.

He took stock of the situation around him. The tunnel that now met the bottom of what had been the garage lead off into the dark and Ryk had the instinctive feeling that it was some sort of entrance for the same terrorists who'd killed the Twi'lek on the holofeed, who had just killed his friend. Looking around, he saw that the other Twi'leks that had been with Carvor were nowhere to be seen - dead under the ruble as well. Wiping at the dust that coated his face and eyes, he picked up his commlink and tapped into a frequency that he wasn't even sure would work. One that he hoped, would key none other than the Grand Marshal directly.

"Grand Marshal, this is Ryk Gaelir, Lieutenant, 1st Platoon Aurek Company, 701st Mobile Infantry. I'm at Defense Force port Theta-34, and there's been an attack that's ripped an entrance into the city here. The patrol I was with was killed in the blast -- I think that the tunnel is an entrance for these terrorists. Please advise," Ryk finished before signing off and picking up his rifle from where it had been thrown.

He would not let Carvor's death be for naught. If this was the entrance that the terrorists were going to use, Ryk was going to ensure that they would not make it through. Even if it was at the expense of his own life.

Madalena Antares · May 20, 2020

Location: Aboard the Fallulah
Objective: Looks like we're about to fight!
Wearing: Armor (tinted deep red)
Wielding: Meymad | Vita Stones | Shiftglue | Whimsy Knife | Glitter Grenades
Allies: Agents of Chaos, The Siskeen Coalition, Twi'lek Freedom Fighters |

Hanna

Anesia Jy'Vun
Enemies: The Confederacy has chosen. |

Holt

Draconis Sederius Wolf

Adron Malvern Darth Miseria

Shamira Karuto

Madalena looked at

Judd Hunter first, smiling. He was one of her Aspects, and though she might some day murder him for that awful, awful smoking habbit, she had a feeling he'd be good with the stuff they actually needed beyond that. He was currently talking to a droid, and she just let them be, taking a seat so that she could be comfortable until the eight minutes were up.

"They will not," she answered Hanna, giving her a warm smile as well, "The Confederacy has long believed that they are better than others. A series of successful wars they've conducted have made them even more full of themselves. They likely think that they are going to finish this day victorious. And it is our job to deflate their little balloon."

Yes. She didn't have to be on the Confederate side to know that whatever other emotions reigned among them, their motivation would be high. Win or lose, the fight would be a challenge. But she was prepared for that, and so were the people she had trained and that she watched out for.

Opening her mouth to speak more, it was the new message incoming that halted Madalena right where she was. The image of an older male Twi'lek, and… "What…" her lips parted, her eyes going wide. No, the brutality did not bother her. Madalena was a combatant from the first moment of her existence in this dimension, and not blood nor pain would make her wince.

But the timing. The Twi'lek murdered was, she gathered, the author of that book that she'd only recently heard so much about. It was a rare thing that history books made such waves, even on the occasion that they were mostly political party propaganda. Colonizers, infidels… The male sure had a lovely decorated speech pattern.

And it was too late to stall the broadcast of it.

Well. That certainly was going to put a wrench in her plans.

"I'm sorry," she said as she turned to look at

Jai'galaar Gred , "Looks like we're sending the party ship back. After that display, there is no chance they're going to agree. Judging by my experience with them in the past, we're probably going to be taking the blame for that and no one will even ask for proof."

Which, while slightly annoying, was just fine with her. Madalena had arrived with the full intent of getting physical. A battle was only different from a dance in intent. Her hand came to rest atop of one of the Strill's heads. While she'd chosen her father's name, Antares, Madalena was a deWinter through and through, and all of them but one had a way, and a love, for animals. Once this was over, she was going to ask for permission to snuggle-sleep with one of them. A small pinch in her chest was felt as she missed Baal, but she'd agreed with more or less everyone that in this specific scenario, it was best to leave the Loth Wolf back on the Scintilla. She was most definitely going to have to stop on Coruscant on the way back to get him the special treats that he so loved and she couldn't find anywhere else.

And yes, just as she had expected - the words of

Srina Talon were loud, emotionless, and clear. Madalena should have been worried. She should have at least raised an eyebrow. But instead, she just smiled. The Confederacy had decided to take it as the first blood, and the truth did not matter, because it never had. Once the Agents of Chaos would begin their descent upon the world, they would be fired upon, while the Confederacy thought they were shooting second.

She was perfectly fine with that.

In the second that had passed, another voice had joined the frequency. The voice… Madalena did not know him, but she knew the accent all too well. There was little she could do but close her eyes and sigh as he spoke, the Elder, of what he believed. Of how he did not realize how gullible he had been.

Touching the comm on the wall, Madalena leaned against her shoulders, arms folded across her chest, and she smiled once more.

"Esteemed Elder," she almost purred, "It sounds like you are physically next to your overlord. There are many points you have made with which I agree. You have indeed stopped killing each other. Most of you here do indeed not fight for scraps of moldy bread. And yet, I must ask… Is this enough? Take a good look at the Sith standing besides you. The Sith that while, you claim that has helped you so much, is right as we speak allowing the Sith Empire to do what was done to you, to many more worlds, with his blessing. But that is not all, oh no.

I have fought in so many battles, and gone on so many missions for the Confederacy. And you know? Not once do I recall seeing a Twi'lek. I want you to take a good look at the home of the Vicelord, and then think of the place you live in, inside the dome. Is it a good place? What about the homes of all those you know? Do they compare to the riches invested in his?

And think of this… If a Twi'lek and an Echani show up for a job interview within the Confederacy, which of them will get the job?

No, my love. You have removed one form of slavery only to lend your hand to building the very golden cage that binds you to the Confederacy without even realizing it. You pay taxes to a government that will lie to you and tell you that you are genuinely free while they systematically oppress you and make sure you will never be more than second best. Simply look at their hierarchy if you don't believe me. You're good enough to pay their taxes, maybe good enough to share the occasional meal, but never good enough to genuinely be part of them. Think on that."

And then Darth Metus… Madalena stifled a laughter. "Of course you will take the opinion of one and decide it counts for millions. You were never overly comfortable with details or nuance. I have seen you abandon your own people time and time again. I have seen you forget. You sit on your throne of lies, and it is plain for all the 'verse to see. You have never cared about what the Confederacy is or what it stood for, only personal gain.

You will stop. I am not one of you. I never will be again. And I am still better than many of your Knights Obsidian combined. Considering what is happening on the other channels, I will be on the ground very shortly. I look forward to showing the Knights that have not already left your cause for mine, why it would truly be wonderful if they did."

It was time to go.

Madalena motioned for the Hunters that had gathered with her on the Fallulah. They would be using the ship's drop pods. Hundreds of them, descending down to the planet. But first, there was another important message she had to sent. Another bomb to drop.

"People of Ryloth, this is the final speech I will be making for now," she could imagine their sighs of relief, "The Confederacy knew we were coming. They have a wonderful Ministry of Secrets and unless the birds have been slacking off, our interest in the planet, while not a priority, has never been a secret. So while you celebrate, think on this - Darth Metus, his squad of Exarchs, and whoever they had deemed fit to include on it, knew we would be coming today, and are now hiding behind you, using you as shields. Are hiding behind your children, using you as shields.

But I refuse to use you as shields. You, I will actually protect. We have ships that will take you to the safety of HOPE, a refugee station where you will be treated with respect, kindness, and all the comforts you are used to. You will be able to return whenever you will. The Confederacy might try to claim we are lying, but in that case I offer you to look at Alderaan and Kuat, where we have already successfully helped push both the Republic and the Grayson Imperium away. As we will with the Confederacy today.

We are not here to harm you, and we will not injure a single civilian unless they come at us first. Not even with the Confederacy using you so cynically, as they had once accused the Mandalorians of doing on Taanab.

Confederacy… Your eight minutes are up. Leave the civilians be, that is an order. We are coming."

It was time to move. She motioned to those around her before switching the lights, indicating that they would all be taking the pods to the ground. Pausing only for once to hear the message by

Allya Vi'Dreya , Madalena quickly sent the child a text. You are adorable. Come have coffee with me in the Unknown Regions when you've become publicly capable of standing up to your father. You will always be welcome, however long that takes.

As the Wild Hunt began to fill the pods up, Madalena found herself locking her jaw in anger. This time, it was nothing of the Confederacy - but one of their own, that K Kaine Australis that she had warned her sister about. "If he actually hits those civilians, our next war is a massacre of him and his entire clan," she growled, and then strapped herself in. Others would have to deal with him if he became a nuisance. She had bigger fish to worry about for now.

Shuklaar Kyrdol · May 20, 2020

Shuklaar Kyrdol, reluctant member of the parade along with eight more somewhat more enthusiastic but pragmatic Vuhyr'yalilyr Rammikade and loyal traveling companion/droid ~~oversized metal Strill~~/general pain in the shebs/mobile gun platform Jare'la.
Allies: CIS and allies.
Enemies: AoC and allies.
Objective: RTB, apparently.

Equipment:

'Vuhyr'yalilyr'gam'
- Kelvarek Consolidated Arms MM9 rocket system
  - K-26 Explosive Anti-Vehicle Rocket (3)
  - Type-12A Anti-Personnel Rocket (3, 1 loaded)
- Shatter Beam
- ZX Miniature Flame Projector
- Velocity-7 Dart Shooter
  - Electro Darts (4)
  - Explosive Darts (4, 1 loaded)
'Rammikad' Enhancement Package
PPC-01 Phased Pulse Cannon
DP-02 Class-D Heavy Disruptor Pistol
Mono-molecular Edge Beskar Beskad
Det-Packs (4)
Flex-5 Detonite Tape (2)
Class-A Thermal Detonator (3)
NOVA40 Plasma Grenade (3)

Parades were not a very Mandalorian event. Not as far as he was concerned in any case. On the other hand, it was good public relations, and it showed that he and his weren't involved with the politics and mess that his fellow Mando'ade had become famous for in the last few years. He hesitated to use that word as far as they were concerned, but knew that despite their actions, they were still Mandalorians. He may not like what they did, he may resent them for the position it put him and his in, but if it came to it he'd happily fight alongside them to take back their sector. Mandalorians were by necessity supposed to be a nomadic people, but the last thousand or so years of complacency had made them just that, complacent.

Still, he knew that the CIS and some of them had a nasty history. He didn't quite care, those were less Mandalorian problems and more Mandalorian system problems as far as he was concerned. The CIS had been good to him and his so far, and he was happy to work with them. They'd let them settle in their space, and there had been work for them to do, and they were happy to do that. If anyone was going to call him a traitor for that, he had more than a few choice words in mind for them.

The gratitude the Twi'leks had for the CIS was truly something else. It was perhaps for that reason that he'd agreed to be part of the parade, because of the gratitude that he and the rest of those from Breshig had for the CIS. Their presence here wasn't just to show support for the CDF with whom they worked with, but also to show the people of Ryloth the importance of giving back to those who help you. It was no secret after all, that the CIS took in Mandalorians who were forced to flee from the civil war in the Mandalorian system. Thankfully, they'd been able to avoid that.

It was the right move. It wasn't right for them to be involved just because they were Mandalorians, and the hatred that the rest of the galaxy felt for Mandalorians...they had nothing to do with that. He'd been angry before, ready to kill the shabuire for what they wrought on them. At Cadera, at Australis. He'd been ready to call the man Mand'alor if it meant he could actually do something right. Then he'd realized the futility of it all, and knew that no matter what, it was time to start thinking about those that had to leave their homes behind. Those that trusted him when he'd made the decision to leave their home system. They couldn't keep jumping from shadowport to shadowport. They needed a place to stop. No matter what he'd heard, the CIS had been the best place for that.

Who else, after all, would accept them. The GA? The shabla jetiise? Whatever else he was now, Isley Verd was...is...a Mandalorian.He didn't expect to be welcomed with open arms, and they weren't exactly. A fair chance, that's all he asked for, and the CIS had given it to him. Now it was their chance to give back, and he was attempting to do that as best as he could. Ryloth was a planet of people trying to do the same thing, it seemed. The smiling, grateful faces, the cheering crowds. There was something to be said about it all, no matter what the mutterings around the galaxy were.

His only real point of contention was that he wasn't wearing his armor, for the second time, when on a CIS operation. Vuhyr'yalilyr'gam was a great suit of beskar'gam, but it wasn't his armor, and he sorely missed his armor. "I know I worked on this armor...but shab, how do you...who's shabla idea was it for us all to wear this anyway?" he asked over the comms frequency he shared with the rest of the squad. Just as the words left his mouth, he immediately had a sinking suspicion that he knew exactly who it was that had come up with this idea in any case.

Saram was quick to point, and quick to point out that he was the di'kut to blame for his current situation, "Alor, I distinctly remember you saying that we need to present as much of a 'uniform' look as possible. Even though I said it wearing it wouldn't help your lack of subtlety." Even if she wasn't a respected veteran ranking Vuhyr'yalilyr commando, as little as Mandalorians tended to care for things like rank, Saram had long earned the right to call him out like she did by virtue of knowing him for as long as she had.

"Remind me again, why is it that I brought Davaab traat'aliit again?" he asked, sarcasm dripping from every word. Truth was he felt like because of how well he knew Saram and her family, he could ask her for these sorts of favors, and she never really said no. He and Nyles had been friends for so long that they were basically aliit, and it was hard to say no to family. He had a feeling though that when she'd had enough of his osik she'd tell him so.

"Because everyone else had an excuse?" she asked. This got the rest of the squad chuckling over squad comms. He'd lost by popular vote, it turned out. Better to gracefully admit defeat than to try and save face. "Besides, we're oh so very good at the 'smile and wave' thing. I mean, try getting Itula to do it. Do you remember that time on Nar Shaddaa?" Shuklaar remembered that time all too well, and that when he was reminded that Clan Nihut'tyr was as good at non-violently dealing with aruetiise as Clan Ordo was at being subtle. "Well..." said Saram a moment later, "at least it was entertaining."

"You and I have a very different definition of entertaining, Sar'ika," he sighed. This elicited a few chuckles from the rest of the squad. This was a conclusion that he'd come to often. Saram's second in command, Ran Netra, had once cited the reason as being because he never got to do the 'fun stuff', and that he was always stuck 'cleaning up after'. There was definitely some truth in that. Little did he know that he was about to get more than his fair share of 'fun'.

Agents of Chaos's message wheedled its way into his ear, and though he was sorely tempted to turn off the frequency his helmet was receiving it on just so that he wouldn't have to listen to what he knew was pure and utter osik, it was pertinent osik. Traitors often had the most to say, he'd learned, and this Madalena was no exception. Eight kriffing minutes to come to a decision? She knew that it would take far longer than that, she had to, especially if she was a Knights Obsidian like she claimed. "Eight shabla minutes, this aruetii is joking, right? It takes longer to get a drink at the Oyu'baat on a good day, let alone the time it'll take CIS command to decide to tell her to usen'ye."

"That's not all, you think that's bad? Check the holonet," chimed in Viraen Kyrdol, the squad's second marksmen. Shuklaar hadn't seen a lot of televised executions in his life, but he knew one when he saw one. The moment he saw that Twi'lek battered, bruised and terrified for his life on the feed, he knew what was about to happen. He knew what was about to happen, but he kept watching. These were the same shabuire that Australis had allowed to come to Mandalore, or in the least, people who supported this osik. He'd happily kill Carnifex or his dogs on live feed, but an unarmed civilian? What sort of chaavla chaakar did that? These weren't revolutionaries, these were shabla terrorists. That much was clear to him now.

Thankfully, orders came in before any of them had too much longer to think about or even say anything about what they just saw. Now that was something they could do something about. "Alright vode, you know what to do. Double time it back to the CIS base. Then we'll see where they want us, and just how we're going to deal with these 'Agents of Chaos' chaakare," ordered Saram over the squad's frequency. As one, the squad leapt into the air with a burst of thrust from their rocket packs before the repulsor engines took over and kept them moving toward the CIS base camp, with Shuklaar and Jare'la just trying to keep up. Though with their current pace, it wouldn't be long before they reached the CIS base.

Rylan Kordel · May 20, 2020

Location: Gardens not far from the festivities
Equipment: Inquisitor Style Lightsaber, Octarchy Covenant Armor
Mood: Disturbed
Tags: Alora Fae |

Taiia Locke | All CIS Forces on and around Ryloth

Rylan sat alone in the gardens, gathering his mind and thoughts while meditating. At first, it was peaceful, he was able to push out the events of recent and past history, but then it started to brew and grow violent, dread, pain, suffering and violence washed over his mind, what broke him from these thoughts was the image on one of the many nearby screens was the execution of a civilian by so-called freedom fighters. He said nothing as he slowly got to his feet, now trying to piece together the events going on, something wasn't adding up, and now cowards calling themselves freedom fighters and revolutionaries had attacked, some of which killing civilians already?

How many times had he experienced this? The Dark Jedi gritted his teeth in frustration, each time an act like this happened, it caused more harm than good. He reached out through the force, unsure of who all he could reach, the ones that made the most sense to him was his closest confidant and beloved Alora, his mind also reached out for other members of his school, any would do, after all, it appeared they were about to be going to war.

"Another fine mess you've got yourself into, Rylan." he grumbled under his breath, once again the galaxy just proved to him, that his legacy and the planet of Ryloth did not mix well at all.

Alluria Ivalice · May 20, 2020

Location: Capital Bio-Dome - Streets
Objective: ~~Entertain~~ - Protect Civilians
Mental State: Calm -> Shocked
Nearby Sisters: Shamira Karuto , Effie, Vytal Noctura
Friendlies: CIS and Allies
Hostiles: AoC and Twi'lek Terrorists

Alluria stood among the streets, fingertips dancing through the air, crafting works of colorful art within the the space before her which would soon fade away as quickly as they had appeared. This method wasn't something she had used many times before, however the reaction given by those who gathered around seemed to show that it was quite the sight to behold. In truth, she thought so too. The smiles of the young brought forth her own. From time to time, she would glance over at @Effi, finding her method to be much more refined. Her fingers snap as sparks of light fall in a circle outward from her fingertips. Her focus would soon be taken by the sudden interuption by one

Madalena Antares . The words she spoke, the message she thought to be delivered, it held ill will. As her thoughts began to process this message and the time that was allotted for an answer to be given, she looks to the younger beings around her, reaching out within the Force to soothe their nerves. A trick learned from her time studying under

Darth Metus and one she found quite useful. The hearts of the young need not feel chaos on this day.

" Relax, young ones. " She spoke at last, hoping to help them relax.. until her attention was once more grasped by the voice pouring from the broadcast. The woman's eyes blinked, seeking to ensure that she saw the image for what it truly was. Just moments before, Confederates had been given minutes to give an answer to those who would demand that they leave. Now? This man would slay another of his kind for all to see. Her people had fought one another, ensuring only the strong held the throne. But, these were not her kind. They were free people, living upon their own homeworld, enjoying a day of celebration. The lure of the dark side sat in the shadows of her mind, a call she forced herself to ignore. There were important matters now and innocents stand before her in what could now be harms way as a call for blood was made.

The disapperance of her Mandragora sister (Effie) had not gone unnoticed, though her questions would have to wait for the time being. For now, she once more attempts to calm the minds of those around her. " I bid all of you who may hear my voice to seek shelter now. Loss of life is not needed on this day, be safe and see tomorrow! Many more days lie ahead of all of you. This, I swear. " Ushering the young to their families and to the nearest shelters, she opened herself to the Force, feeling the presence of the Nightmother's power wash over the streets shortly after a wave of increasing unease seemed to arise through everyone, the effects of which she herself had felt. The Force was certainly a powerful thing.

The mix of those who were regaining hints of resolve, thanks to the Nightmother, and the disbelief and anger at the visible slaughter of one of their own could be seen on every face around her. Disrupting a day of peace would not stand. As a Twi'lek tripped, moving towards a nearby bunker, her hand outstretched, taking his to lift him onto his feet before turning her attention to the surroundings. The shock had yet to wear off, the image of the Twi'lek's needless slaughter replaying in her mind as the voice of the woman bringing the inital ultimatum arose once more, bringing a response to that of the Twi'lek Elder and the Vicelord himself. Fingers curled into her palm, feet shifting to turn as she moved to seek out Effie amidst the rising chaos.

Holt · May 20, 2020

R O O K

Objective: Oversee Security
Location: Capital Bio-Dome
Allies:

Ciri Jade |

Beric Layne |

Lirka Ka | Effie |

Luna Terrik |

The Monster |

Prennis Keeoli |

Millu Lee |

Draconis Sederius Wolf |

Srina Talon |

Darth Empyrean |

Darth Metus |

Rann Thress |

Vytal Noctura | Ryk Gaelir
Enemies:

Madalena Antares |

Judd Hunter |

Hanna |

Oceiros Sunstrider |

Kyrinov |

Jai'galaar Gred |

Scherezade deWinter |

Nerium | Herah

Holt's fists clenched as the head of the Twi'lek fell from its body, broadcasted live on every public holo feed in the biodome. Holt had told security to expect the worse, but even he would not have predicted this showing in front of children, in front of families. The fearmongering display disgusted him, one who had seen so much violence, death, and terror.

These people were worse than revolutionaries.

These people were worse than terrorists.

These people were animals.

As the holofeed continued to play out, holt pulled up a small projector, slicing into the mainframe of the public server quickly, cutting the feed and in a couple sentences of code, cutting off outside access to the holoprojection and speaker systems of the bio-dome. These terrorists were not going to use loudspeakers for their back-and-forth banter.

"Colonel Jade," Holt said as he finished, keying up his comlink to the frequency of one of his agents present. "I don't need to tell you that we have hostiles here. I need you to slice into their communications and glean any information you can. While you're doing that, make sure that access to the speaker and holo feed systems of the bio-dome is secure. I've closed it, but I don't want it opened again." Holt ordered, his tone so clam, one listening would assume that nothing was of the matter. Stowing away his comm, he surreptitiously checked to make sure that his blaster was still in working order before stalking off towards the city's center of communications. He'd be able to better operate there, way from the crowds, and with the full set of technology at his disposal.

And then a cry rang out through the crowd. It was not one of terror or shock, like the ones that had gone through the crowd as they had watched the publicized execution. It was one of pure grief and misery, and even more strangely, it had the high pitched nasal whine of a child. Holt looked down to see a young Twi'lek girl -- she couldn't have been older than three -- in a well-dressed one-piece, sitting at the ground, pulling at her green Lekku in terror. Tears streamed out of here eyes freely, and her eyes were glued to the screen.

The screen where moments before, a Twi'lek with similar green Lekku had been mercilessly beheaded.

Holt did not want to believe that this youngling was the victim's daughter. No, he refused to believe it. She was just another child set off by the unrestrained display of viciousness and cruelty. Yet all the same, Holt for some reason felt compelled to pick up the child, awkwardly holding her in his arms as she continued to bawl into his shoulders. The Director of Confederacy intelligence had many skills, but none of them had to do anything with children or childcare. For one of the first times in his life, he was truly at a loss for what to do.

He looked around the square, but none of the Twi'leks seemed to claim the child as there own. And Holt was jaded, but not heartless. He'd picked up the thing, and he couldn't just leave her be. And so, with a sigh and an awkward pat on the back of the sniveling Twi'lek youngling, he set off towards his original destination. He'd figure what to do with her later.

He made his way through the crowd before reaching the administrative center, moving past the guards without any inquiry. The turbo-lift ride up to the top of the tower was silent but for the child's occasional sniffle, but even she had quieted down considerably. The turbo-lift doors opened to reveal the communications center, silent and abandoned except for a few puttering administrative droids. No wonder those feeds had gotten through, Holt thought bitterly to himself as he marched up to a console and prepared to get to work.

But there was still the matter of the child. He looked around before finding a suitably comfortable hoverchair, one that dwarfed the tiny Twi'lek, setting her down in it. He cast his eyes around the room before finding something suitably dull she could play with -- a stuffed Rycrit, apparently some sort of memento for one of the officials that worked here. He handed it to the Twi'lek child, who when presented with the stuffed animal gurgled in delight. At the very least, the child's crying was gone, which Holt counted as a small victory.

Content that she was occupied, Holt sat down at the console and got to work, bringing up past transmissions and communications hat had passed through the sector. It took a few moments before he was able to establish a secure tightbeam to Druckenwell, but once he did he had access to the entire CICOM database. As his eyes drifted across the screen, one particular folder caught his eye -- the Agents of Chaos. Jogging his memory, he opened the folder and information began to spill forth.

it had been the organization that many agents of the Ministry had defected too, and ever since they had been carrying out terrorist operations throughout the galaxy. Holt had been keeping tabs on them, but with the whole situation on Gaulus, he hadn't been keeping the Agents as his top priority. But as he looked over there files, did some quick voice matchups, he realized that had been his fatal mistake. He had ignored the Agents of Chaos, and now they were here. Here to kill. Here to massacre.

And in the face of it all, Holt continued to type and code away.

Derek Dib · May 20, 2020

Location: Palace, Pristine City, Olanet
Personnel:

Alwine Daye ,

Annasari ,

Gabriel Volturi , Holly Starstorm ,

Larentia ,

John Locke ,

Raven Thystle , Faye Malvern ,

Visanj T'shkali ,

Kyyrk ,

Daegon Corvinus , and @ everyone else I missed

He turned his head as one of the reporters neared, inquisition clearly etched upon her face. The query that followed confirmed his suspicions. She wanted an inside scoop, behind the scenes so to speak, to transmit to the billions of viewers scattered across the entire galaxy. He offered a small smile and nod.

“Of course Ms. Starstorm. Unfortunately there is no hidden agenda here. What you see is honestly what you get. I’m aiming for a peaceful resolution. Battles and war are not necessary for civilized men and women to discuss an issue and come to an amicable agreement. Excuse me for one moment…”

Turning from the eyes that greeted him with kind familiarity and those who judged him a vain, shallow man, Derek turned back to the expanse of the glass and flipped the comlink to life from around his wrist. News coverage, live feeds, and action reports filtered by with dizzying speed. More transmissions mingled on the comlink as Derek shook his head and turned back to the meeting.

A sea of faces looked at him. Some he supped with in the past, visits between friends. Some were respected colleagues who they shared business and resources with. Others followed him with guarded eyes, choosing to keep their thoughts and emotions contained until a verdict was rendered. And still there were others who thought him inept, small, blind to reality, foolish, and willfully ignorant of the Confederacy and the galaxy at large. If only he could feign ignorance, then life would be much simpler. But that wasn’t to be.

“Friend, foe, and neutrals … I bid you welcome on this momentous occasion. Why is it momentous, you may ask? Because for the first time in our history, the Confederacy has an option to come to terms without violence. Words will triumph over swords, and all the galaxy will see that the Confederacy of Independent Systems are not composed of bloodthirsty warmongers. We, for I say we because I am still counted among you, have the chance to prove to the galaxy that there is another way. That terms can be made, agreements honored, and resolution found by our strength of character and morality. So, again, I say today is a momentous occasion.”

Leaning forward, over his chair, he pressed several unseen keys which activated a holo projector built into the table. On the transparent image was a twi’lek screaming bloodily before another twi’lek removed his head. Thankfully there was no sound to accompany the graphic video. Again he tapped a command and another video sprang to life. Power output, identifying information, and location ran along the edges of the video. It showed a battlecruiser, identified as the Golden Lance and affiliated with the Network, powering up for what could only be assumed would be an orbital strike due to the vessel’s orientation and positioning. Once more the image disappeared and a few strokes later another image appeared. This one was shaky and less refined, but unmistakable in content. This image revealed a ship, the border identified as Obsidian Star, lower from the heavens to its designated landing pad. Before settling down however the video revealed a cloud of what appeared to be cylinder droids disperse from the ship and begin to take up position around the palace where the conference was being held. The Image of Voph exiting the ship was somewhat fuzzy, but unmistakable.

Derek straightened, his face as hard as granite.

“Despite the wishes to remain a peaceful endeavor, certain policies should be upheld. This is the time and place for verbal riposte and understanding where and why we stand on opposing sides of the issue at hand. This is not time for aggressive negotiation. Ryloth is being gripped by a full scale calamity. Invasion, war, death. All based on opposing ideals and concepts. It is simple to attack something different or contrary to ourselves. What is happening in the system is cold, cruel nature. What happens here, in this place, must be about finding common ground, about understanding both sides of the argument, about coming to a settlement that is agreeable for both parties.”

Derek looked to the frozen still of Voph disembarking from the ship, the cameras in the room getting all of their reactions.

“Exarch Locke, I am pleased you have joined us here today. I look forward to debating opposing merits and finding an acceptable compromise. But let us agree on this, if you would. The Siskeen System has prepared for invasion since it was brought into the Confederacy. First the Galactic Empire and then smaller threats. Siskeen has fleets, soldiers, and even hosts a large company with shipyards and soldiers of their own readily available to be called upon. The Agents of Chaos are here as witnesses, as is the galaxy at large. Before this began I gave orders that will be followed specifically. Any hostile action taken against the United Siskeen Coalition composed of Siskeen, Olanet, and Kaer will have an immediate response. This was also given to the Agents of Chaos. Those who seek to press their influence and claim of opinion by use of force of arms will be given the full attention of my military. Having said that, please order those probes retracted to the ship or I will have a squadron of fighters destroy them. It is a breach of decorum. Collecting intel, designating targets, or other purposes that I know not of, this action will be considered hostile. So again I beseech you to order them removed from Siskeeni airspace. And then we can discuss our goals moving forward. You can have the honor of going first, once the preceding problematic issue has been handled. Yes?”

The Monster · May 20, 2020

Objective: Intercept Kaine Australis, protect Ryloth
Location: Ryloth Orbit
Ship: The Aegis Light Frigate
Allies: CIS and CIS aligned combatants
Enemies: AoC

Madalena Antares K Kaine Australis

Sergei sat in stunned silence aboard the Aegis. Before him was the HNN running the newsreel of the AoC sponsored terrorist organization murdering an innocent civilian in cold blood in front of god and everyone. The ship was dead silent as all could see what had happened. Many people's faces were ones of shock. Of dismay. Of disgust. All one way or another knew what had just happened. The Agents of Chaos, had sponsored and officially sanctioned murder scant seconds after their demand for the CIS forces to withdraw. And then Dauntless and other security ground reports started coming in. Bombings had happened at the capital bio-dome where the central Founder's Day celebration was occurring, and the outer wall of the dome had been breached. The AoC had already doomed those not in shelters and they still acted like nothing they did was wrong. They kept acting like their hands were utterly pristine. There was no apology. No decry. No public demanding of soldiers, no, terrorists, to abide to the terms they themselves had set.

Not. A. Word.

Instead the AoC decided to accelerate their plans, first by telling the CIS the time was up when it had hardly been, and now moving their fleet into attack position. Sergei immediately rushed to the bridge of The Aegis, and had to see for himself what was happening. A massive battlecruiser was moving into an assault position above the planet. Their target was clear.

They would burn the surface and kill all on it.

Sergei himself looked at Captain Clark and his face, normally composed, even, some would even say always utterly deadpan, was of despair. The were one ship of many of the CIS fleet, what could they do in the face of such injustice. Sergei immediately yelled to the comms officer.

"GET ME WIDEBAND NOW! CIS, AOC, I DON'T GIVE A BLASTED KARK WHO HEARS THIS!"

The comms officer scrambled and opened a channel for all to hear. Sergei knew they had to act. They couldn't wait for plans. They couldn't wait for the fleet, as the Aegis was the fastest ship there with the firepower to even contend with such a threat. To put a dent in such a foe. He looked at Clark once and asked.

"Can we do it?"

"I..... I.... I don't know,"

"CLARK ANSWER ME CAN WE DO IT?!?!" Sergei's voice was desperate.

Clark paused, for a few fateful seconds. Words crossed his mind. Thoughts. Wishes. Hopes and dreams that he had hoped to achieve. He then thought to all those people on the surface. All of the innocent bystanders in all of this. He thought of all the people he'd seen hurt and destroyed, physically or mentally by war. He steeled his resolve and spoke his answer to Sergei, his voice grim.

"We can, and we must,"

The comms officer finally responded with the channel being open, on wide band for all forces in the Area of Operations to hear. The AoC. The CIS. The Aegis didn't care who listened in.

"This is Captain Clark of The Aegis, Ranking officer in The Dire Wolves Mercenary Company naval assets. I am hereby ceding our vessel from our current contractors with the CIS. The Golden Lance is currently moving to an orbital bombardment assault position. Repeat, THE GOLDEN LANCE IS CURRENTLY MOVING TO AN ORBITAL BOMBARDMENT ASSAULT POSITION. We cannot wait for the fleet to respond. We are moving to intercept, fair winds to you Fleet Marshall, and may the force be with you,"

With that he closed the comm channel and shut off communications for the vessel. And he spoke.

"All hands prepare for mass acceleration, Helm I want 14 G acceleration towards that vessel, Engineering I want full power to engines and cannons, Echo teams sort firing solutions for the gunnery crews, Gunners once you have targeting solutions I want you to not stop shooting until that thing rolls over and DIES!"

One of the officers spoke up. "Sir..... you can't be serious? It's a battlecruiser,"

It would be here that Clark would stand to address the ship. "Comrades, we've fought under The Dire Wolves' banner for a little over a year. We are now faced with an enemy that not only has the power, but the willingness to annihilate the total civilian population on the planet. Our opponents care not for the welfare of those who cannot fight. They have made that point clear. They only care to sow seeds of dissent and chaos, forsaking all laws of war that we as wolves swore to uphold! They do not reign in those they call allies and as such condone such actions. WE CANNOT ALLOW THIS! I knew this day would come. I knew that someday, death itself would come to our doorstep, and demand the lives of millions in exchange for our own! To them I say NEVER! WE SWORE AN OATH! AND IF IT IS INTO HELL WE RIDE, THAN TODAY IS AS GOOD AS ANY TO DIE! Legends will recount this day lads! They will tell tales of how the menace came knocking on the doorstep, and outnumbered, outgunned, and outmanned by a 6 to 1 margin the Wolves not only stood their ground, but we shall force the enemy to remember this day of reckoning! And so, I bid to you all, it has been an honor. To your stations,"

And with that he took his seat, buckling in his restraint to prepare for the incoming Gs. Sergei meanwhile ran back to the pods as he ordered everyone inside to prepare for launch. The Hades Mass Drivers powered up and cycled rounds, loading up Ion rounds as the ships engines hummed to life and the Helm gave a countdown.

3.....2.....1......

In a roar of silent fury the Aegis leaped from its position in the CIS Fleet making a beeline for the Golden Lance. Knowing full well the enemy would probably fire to intercept them, and so took an evasive pattern to keep the Lance's long range guns from being able to properly get a shooting solution. It did have the maneuverability of a souped up Corvette thanks to the power plant, the engines roaring a light blue flame as the drives went into war emergency power. Their shields would be at minimal charge, but thanks to the construction of the hull armor, Clark wasn't worried, instead focusing on the hum and cackles of the Hades Mass Drivers hurling 800mm Ion shells at its opponent. Sergei himself sat in the pod as it was wracked with Gs, forcing him back against in and crying out in pain as he felt his armor strain to help, but only made things worse as he was literally being flattened by the force. And then, something popped and Sergei felt the rush of acceleration immediately stop. What just happened? He checked his screens in the pod, trying to see something, anything.

His pod and all of the others carrying the remaining Dire Wolves, and all of their ground based combat gear had been jettisoned. 80 pods with Commandos, crates of weapons, ammo, and droids all in reentry packages hurtled towards Ryloth at break neck speed. It took Sergei exactly five seconds to realize what Clark had done.

"CLARK! CLARK NO!" Sergei was screaming with tears in his eyes as he pounded the walls of his pod. His unbridled rage flowed forth as he saw what the man had done.

Meanwhile Clark was sitting on the bridge of the Aegis, looking at the vectors of the pods and equipment he just dropped on a direct course for the main Bio-Dome. The mass lost was slightly felt aboard the vessel as she went past 14 Gs and into 14.5 Gs of acceleration, preparing to loop towards the top rear of the Golden Lance, still firing its Hades Cannons and now adding in its Lightstorm Turbolasers as they had just gotten into range with them. Clark spoke fondly towards the mass of jettisoned cargo, men, and droids of The Dire Wolves Mercenary Company. They were committed. There was no going back now. It was do.

Or die.

"Farewell, my old friend, thank you for giving this old sailor one final chance,"

Gear:

TDW Gen 2 Combat Armor, M-416, 300 rounds of AP and 300 rounds of AS alternating in magazines, Big Iron Hand cannon, 60 rounds of disrupter, 12 rounds of WP, 18 rounds of APFSDS, L-7 Service Pistol, 70 rounds for L-7, 3 Frag grenades, 3 Ion grenades, 3 Concussion grenades, 3 Flashbangs, 6 smoke grenades, 2 breaching charges, EBFAK, MAAWS, 3 rounds HEAT, 2 HEDP, 1 HEVF, all MAAWS rounds have salt water disks to ensure safety in urban environments

Standard TDW Commando Gear here

Edit: Forgot to color a talking piece my bad

Judd Hunter · May 20, 2020

Jai'galaar Gred |

Hanna |

Oceiros Sunstrider |

Thalia Senn |

Strider Garon |

Katrine Van-Derveld |

Anesia Jy'Vun |

Madalena Antares
Enemies: The Confederacy has chosen. |

Holt

Draconis Sederius Wolf

Adron Malvern Darth Miseria

Shamira Karuto

Judd looked up as

Madalena Antares made her proclamation. Well it looked like it was to be a fight then. The mercenary had his orders. While most of the Wild Hunt was to deal the first blow, it was his job to deal the blow that would hopefully take the fight out of their witches. Or at least send them into such a frenzy that reason and tactics no longer ruled their minds. It was the kind of job Judd was geared for. He gave Madalena a simple nod before leaving the bridge, dropping the remains of his cigarette on the decking and stomping it out. All around him the corridors had suddenly came to life. Crew members were rushing about either heading to battle stations or making last minute preparations. One of his Wild Hunt commandos came walking up presenting Judd with a datapad. "Preparations on the shuttle have been finished, here is a list of the known Confederacy defenses."

Dark eyes scanned over the list as Judd continued to walk, the soldier falling into step behind him. The CIS had some serious defensive fire power on their side. Many will die just trying to reach the surface. If the AoC had any sort of navy like the Republic an assault would have become a blood bath. Thankfully these people depended on more speed and harder to hit targets. A sizable force should be able to slip through the slower defenses. Judd didn't need some flashy army. His objective was the Alter of Spirits. A small well armed force could make their way to the location and finish the job. Still he couldn't discount the confederates desire to project such a place. So why were their no defenses listed for it.

"What do we know about the Alter?" Judd stopped long enough in his tracks to allow Niners to catch up.

"Well sir, our scans haven't been able to detect them. Either there is none or they are camouflaged and powered down to hide their location."

Judd didn't like incomplete intelligence. So much could go wrong and his team needed to be light and mobile, no room for all the gear to cover any situation. He would just have to hope the shippers were able to clear a hole in the orbital defenses to provide air support if needed. As he approached the hanger bay the doors slid open to reveal his team all decked out in desert camo armor. This was supposedly the best of the best. Many mercenaries with backgrounds in high risk ops. Frankly he'd seen better. But it was what he had. Not one for flowery speeches he simply walked past them yelling over his shoulder, "The mission is a go. All aboard."

The assault shuttles he'd requisitioned was nothing pretty. But they were small, maneuverable, and well armored. If the pilots were as good as they claimed then maybe most of them would make it to the surface. Judd climbed into the cockpit, lighting another cigarette as he stood to the right of the pilot. Outside he saw the other three shuttles each holding ten soldiers. Well this was as good as it was going to get. "Sir, you can't smoke in here!"

Judd looked down at the pilot, blowing a puff of smoke in her direction. "All evidence to the contrary." But he put it out anyways after a few tense seconds. No reason to distract the pilot. "Take us down."

Strapping himself into the co-pilots seat Judd watched as all the shuttles lifted from the deck and accelerated out into open space. Taking a look out into open space to the planet below Judd leaned back hard into his seat. "I gotta tell you something. I really hate heights."

Tyrias Aran · May 20, 2020

Location: In Orbit of Ryloth, aboard the Sapphiric Scorn
Deployed Fleet: Providence II-class Carrier/Destroyer | Farstar-class Military Space Station
Reserve Fleet: 3x Hellspear Frigate | Argente-class Assault Cruiser | 8x Terrus-class Flak Corvettes | 7x Miraj-class Heavy Assault Dropships | Comfort-class Medical Frigate

CIS Allied:

The Monster |

Amelia von Sorenn |

Kiff Brayde |

Luna Terrik
AOC Allied:

Madalena Antares | K Kaine Australis | Dimitri Lindzinsky |

Bella |

Kyrinov |

Scherezade deWinter |

Lash |

Strider Garon

Tyrias stood before the forward tactical display aboard the Sapphiric Scorn. Her red eyes regarded the disposition of the enemy fleet as they drifted with feigned innocence toward Ryloth. Naturally no one on board was terribly pleased with the orders to hold their fire. Neither were they in the least taken in by the 'polite' words of their commander. No one showed up to a system governed by another entity with a fleet, kindly asked them to leave, and expected anything short of resistance. And, yet, they had offered eight minutes to make a peaceful resolution -- it would look poor if the first shot was fired without cause.

An unauthorized fleet entering the system and not leaving after it being made clear they weren't wanted was cause, but just because one could do a thing did not mean that one should.

Her communication officer announced Grand Marshal

Luna Terrik on the radio, which drew the Chiss Fleet Marshal to move closer. "Grand Marshal, five vessels bearing non-aligned transponder codes are presently in orbit or near Ryloth. Confederate Defense Fleet long-range arrays detect at least another vessel on the outskirts of the system. They are poised to assail Ryloth if they intend to follow through on their threat, and it would be a strategic error to believe this is the full host of their number." You showed up with a force in an effort to convince through intimidation and reflection on what might be lost in a skirmish. It was better to draw out the opposition's full forces to counter your initial formation, and then position the rest of your forces in a strategically advantageous position.

That was, after all, what she intended to do. Especially given Fleet Marshal Aran did not command a massive host of vessels. Such command was held predominantly by the Confederate Defense Force. Meanwhile, the Chiss woman was on an additional duty assignment with the Dauntless -- a force far more inclined toward ground combat or boarding parties than naval engagements. Though they did not lack in naval capabilities, as the Grand Marshal held sufficient authority to see missions through by whatever means necessary.

"Furthermore. a freighter (

Lirka Ka ) entered the planet's atmosphere and activated jammers to obscure its destination. Based on its point of entry, it appeared headed in your direction, Grand Marshal." That the creature within happened to abide the enemy-of-my-enemy doctrine was not conveyed to the Confederate naval forces, unsurprisingly. Its intent was unknown. Perhaps it was not jamming them as well; perhaps it had disintegrated on re-entry. That seemed unlikely. In either event, there was nothing Tyrias could do to respond especially given the more pressing matter of a hostile fleet in the system.

"You should expect the enemy to deploy considerable ground-based resources to lay siege to the Capital," Tyrias added as an appraisal of the opposing forces. From an analysis of their make, model, and position it seemed they intended to take the fight to those they had complaint with directly. Given the orders not to do more than stare at them, she wondered how much screening there would be time to do.

Nevertheless, the Fleet Marshal continued, "I have launched eight starfighter squadrons from the space station in orbit, with the remaining squadrons on high alert. Our own forces are at battle stations awaiting your command, Grand Marshal." Or those of Grand Marshal Amelia von Sorenn as the naval commanding officer. Luna's would take precedent so long as they did not directly impede her fellow Marshal's battle plan; or until it became clear those in orbit would be of little more aid to those on the planet. That time had not yet come.

"Fleet Marshal, detecting a massive energy build-up in the TNA-2 vessel!"

Tyrias turned and moved aside to regard the display with her own eyes. "Grand Marshal, the enemy is charging a cannon aimed at the planet below. They intend to bombard your position from orbit." Her voice remain evenly paced, but with a tension befitting the suddenly and violent turn. Slaughtering an entire city in the opening shot? They were going to give the fleet authority to open fire, were they not?

"And sir...!"

If they would take the shackles off, they could deal with these events handily! "They are launching drop pods," the Chiss announced. (

Scherezade deWinter )

Then the Fleet Marshal's red eyes narrowed as she saw the Aegis (

The Monster ) powering its engines. "Helm, move to optimal firing distance of the TNA-2 enemy vessel. Comms, demand the commander (

Kyrinov ) of the vessel power down immediately, or their actions will be considered an act of war and they will be fired upon. All frequencies." Whether Command would allow it was another matter. There was no rule of engagement about moving through space until such an order was received.

"And Commander," Tyrias looked over at her First Officer, "see to it Command is made aware of this situation, and demand a response."

Hanna · May 20, 2020

Objective/Location: War on Ryloth - Bridge of the Fallulah to Drop Pod
Gear and Equipment: Hanna’s Phase I Haywire Armor, Phase X-E “Hyper Frost” CryoSonic Heavy Pistol, BH 'Durin' Charric Blaster Pistol, ZW-001 ‘Ifrit’ Pattern Heated Vibroweapon - Short Sword, 2 Impact Grenades, Vita Stones
Allies: AoC (

Nerium ), Twi’lek Freedom Fighters (

Oceiros Sunstrider

Thalia Senn ), The Siskeen Coalition, Mercenary Scum (

Judd Hunter K Kaine Australis )
Enemies: CIS (

Holt

Darth Empyrean )

The vibrosword that decapitated the Twi’lek propagandist was the catalyst.

Everything else, including the party barge, the offer of peace, and the long-winded speeches, no longer mattered. The Confederacy had their casus belli, which often amounted to small diplomatic slights or actions of retaliatory violence from a frustrated population of colonized people. Such actions were more than enough to justify the mobilization of a military that was many times larger than that of the Ancient Galactic Empire at its height, along with the wholesale exploitation of entire racial and ethnic groups. For the colonized indigenous peoples of the Ryloth, peace represented business-as-usual, a continuation of the injustices that were continually being inflicted upon them by the Confederacy and the multisector corporate conglomerates which did the same to so many other worlds. One form of slavery at the hands of the Hutts and various other crimelords had been replaced by another at the hands of a so-called legitimate government. The large biodomes were an allegorical prison, having been constructed not for the comfort of the Twi’lek people, who had managed to survive and thrive for thousands of years in the hot deserts of Ryloth without them, but for the comfort of the pale-skinned Echani, Human, and Near-Human colonizers who were exploiting their planet. The Twi’leks were built for the heat like Hanna’s people were built for the cold. Everything from their colorful skin which could easily absorb the light of the sun to the long lekku that gave their bodies more surface area for heat to escape aided in their survival on the planet.

They truly had no need of glasteel cages.

Unfortunately, given the vast horrors of exploitation the Twi’leks suffered at the hands of the Confederacy, no one, not even the AoC, could not temper or control their indignant rage. The freedom fighters had little reason to care for the public image of the AoC, and in many ways they benefited from the public pinning everything on a group of foreign actors. After all, once their planet was freed from the domination of the Confederacy, they would need the trust of the population in order to begin the hard work of decolonizing their institutions and rebuilding their social structures, which would almost certainly take many years. All the while, the AoC would have long moved in order to free the another world from the clutches of an upstart regime.

With a nod towards Madalena, Hanna left the bridge and headed for her designated drop pod. However, as she strapped herself in, she received the message from Kaine Australis, which had been transmitted to all of the leadership of the AoC. Hanna glanced at her commlink and blinked in disbelief. She had never held a high opinion of mercenaries before, and seeing the message only reinforced her belief. It was yet another battle for the AoC to fight, one that would have to be waged both within and without. All the same, whatever atrocity Kaine Australis intended to enact against the Twi’lek people would be leveled against the AoC. All of her appeals to purge the Wild Hunt and by extension, the AoC of mercenary actors had fallen on death ears. They were too indispensable, too convenient, too effective, and most importantly, paying them was little issue given the wealth of the Scintilla.

Now, the people of Ryloth would suffer the true cost of that bargain.

Kyrinov · May 20, 2020

Nerium | Herah |

The Bridesmaid |

Zaldros Sabolte
CIS -

Darth Metus

If chaos ensues, we adapt. We become chaos.

He exhaled through his nose, eight slow counts as his eyes bore into the abyss for a long yet brief moment. The light of distant stars gleamed and ebbed in neon eyes as he observed the planet as though his will alone could win this battle. If only it could be so. It would avoid any unnecessary bloodshed if they simply surrendered and let the Twi’lek population out of their iron grasp.

Kyrinov reigned in the energy which he’d sent out, taking deep breaths and drawing it back into himself, temporarily closing the threshold and allowing himself a moment of ephemeral peace as his eyes returned to their natural deep grey hue and Inanna settled in her sheathe on his back. The sword whispered again as he began to cease his demonstration to those planet-side of Ryloth, <”End them. Sow fear and destruction. Leave nothing."> A cruel smirk marred his otherwise stoic features, sharp canines glistening back at him in the mirrored reflection of the bridge’s vast outlook window. No, not on this day. I have other matters to attend to on this world.

He turned to face the team he was with on the Ricardo and gave them each nods. They were ready and so was he. Everyone knew the role they would play in the grand scheme of this war if it truly resulted in violence, even if a team member was separated from them somehow, they were prepared to do what they had to in order to truly free the people of Ryloth and give them a brighter future, one full of prosperity and abundance and genuine happiness.

True Freedom.

A voice from his left spoke up. It was that of the Ricardo’s communications officer. “M’Lord, there is another message, open frequency.” The Epicanthic raised an eyebrow, but surmised that, perhaps, it was the Confederacy’s agreement to the demands laid out upon their arrival by Madalena. “Patch it through. With any luck, it’s the Confederacy.” One of his assumptions was correct. The call that came through the intercom in the bridge was indeed from the Confederacy. But, it was not a statement of peace or withdrawal. It was a call of determination. Still, he listened intently, first to the Elder and then to the voice of his former Master.

"I do believe the free peoples of Ryloth have made their opinion on the matter clear...We won't abandon our people...It brings us no joy to fight one of our own. So I'll give you a choice of your own. An opportunity to walk back through the door you thought you slammed shut.Put an end to this madness now. Come home, where you belong. Because...just like Ryloth and every other world in this Confederacy you bled to protect? We don't forget our own.”

The Sith held back bile in his throat and learned to temper the unrest in his core that arose from listening to such blasphemy. Inanna voiced the core of how he felt after the channel was closed, both by Darth Metus and by the communications officer. <”Lies. Deception.”> For once, the weapon was correct in her accusations. They forgot many of their own. They abandoned many of their own. They did not send delegates or representatives to try to regain the Knights and other various members who “defected”. They did not attempt to reach out and be the voice of reason and compromise. It was a lie. He left them, finding that he no longer felt that he had a place among them, and he thought to retire and drift towards the Unknown Regions on his own. Fate would have it that he would find another organization to give him purpose, another cause to fight for, a band of brothers and sisters that looked out for one another. Kyrinov found the Agents of Chaos and he lived among them and rose within their ranks. In all of his time away, not a single Confederate came to see about him, or any of the others as far as he knew. No one came for any of them, for him. Not Darth Metus, not Exarch Malvern, not even Dianah. Why did it take a war for them to express these sentiments of theirs?

But, the past was just that, the past. It already occurred and thus there was nothing that could be done about it. For now, his eyes needed to maintain their focus on freeing the people of Ryloth. He determined that after the actions taken on the holo-feed by a group of Twi’lek revolutionaries combined with the messages of both the Elder and the Vicelord of the Confederacy, the day would end in blood of some kind. It would most certainly end in destruction. All they had to do was wait for the signal from Madalena, premature starts would only fuel the Confederate machine.

They did not have to wait long.

“Confederacy… Your eight minutes are up. Leave the civilians be, that is an order. We are coming.”

His eyes shot to his teammates as he uttered a phrase that called Anat into the ring he wore on his right hand. He did not believe she would like space travel just yet, the Loth Wolf expressed her distaste of it at an early age and he did not want to test her tolerance on the precipice of battle. At least with her inside of the ring, he knew that his companion was safe. His eyes sparkled with a rare sliver of excitement. “Let’s go, head to Pod XH-09. We’ve got to get on the surface if we’re going to be effective to any fighting that might happen planet-side. Captain, ignore the demands and ready defensive weaponry, hold your fire unless directly engaged. Send an immediate report to Admiral Lindzinsky regarding our situation.” (Dimitri Lindzinsky)

Kyrinov did not wait for any form of response from anyone, they did not have time to lose. They did not know the Confederacy as he did. If he was certain of anything in the moment, it was that they’d already begun amassing forces to stop an forthcoming attack that may be hurled their way and it would be up to the Agents to blast through and win. He hoped that what Madalena promised was indeed true, hopefully where were evac transports that would take the Twi’lek population to H.O.P.E. and return them to a state or normalcy and pride in who they are when they are not burdened by a galactic power.

He strode through the corridors and took a few turbolifts, a pilot flanking him even at the pace that he set. They arrived within minutes to the hangar and the pilot directed him to the pod and they waited for the others to join them before the hatch was sealed. Once everyone took their seats, the engine roared to life and they dropped backwards several feet and then they were able to transition into a smooth descent towards the surface. “Attempt a landing zone near a mountainous area and perform evasive actions if need be." A place with caves or caverns would be the ideal landing position for them. From there, they just had to find a suitable position and carry out their mission.

Alwine Daye · May 20, 2020

Location: Derek Dib's Palace, Olanet, Siskeen System
Wearing: Armor | Lupine Blood Stone
Wielding: WindWhisper | generic walking cane
Allies: Agents of Chaos, The Siskeen Coalition, Twi'lek Freedom Fighters |

Derek Dib

Enlil

Gabriel Volturi

Annasari Holly Starstorm

Larentia + Open
Enemies: The Confederacy |

John Locke

Raven Thystle Faye Malvern Corius Harckon

Daegon Corvinus

Seraphina Corvinus

Visanj T'shkali

It was not her first time in a situation such as this (

Gabriel Volturi ). Though her direct experience with such peace talks, if you could call them that, was small, she had every expectation that this time it would result as it had the last; Alwine had been far from alone during the events on Alderaan and Kuat, but their goal had been achieved there, pushing back the forces of both the Republic and the Grayson Imperium. It had been the Agents of Chaos' greatest victory to date, and if they could do it now, here, on Siskeen and on Ryloth, it would be even bigger.

Looking to

Annasari as the woman sat next to her, Alwine greeted her with a nod and a little polite smile. She had heard good things about this woman, and had been interested in seeing her in action. Recent events had led Alwine to believe that she should resign from the public life as the Head of Speakers, and she had actively been searching for a replacement. Annasari was one of the potential people. She was young, and inexperienced, which meant she would have to undergo specific training, but Alwine was nothing if not patient. Especially for the right kind of people.

"You are optimistic," she pointed out, her voice low and hushed so that none but the two would hear it, "Treasure it. The rest of the galaxy will try to take your optimism away. I hope you still hold on today after this meeting has been concluded." Though her words were not the happiest, Alwine's tone was friendly, almost encouraging. She had no wish to empty the other woman's dreams or hopes, but only give her warning so that she could keep them.

Alwine… Had lost much of the hopes and dreams. She was barely twenty, yet felt like an old woman who had undergone several lifetimes already. Perhaps it was because of the state of her body, everso hurting, and perhaps it was because the events of her life had caused it, but she knew a small vacation could not come soon enough.

To this meeting though, she had come better prepared. While she had never met he man, she knew more or less who

John Locke was, former MInister of Science and current Exarch. The journalist, Holly Starstorm, she knew by now as well, alongside many of the crew and which channels they generally represented. She admired the woman's courage as she directly approached

Derek Dib , not even trying to be sneaky or roundabout about it. The galaxy needed more people like that.

The next to enter,

Raven Thystle , was a completely unknown face to the Lupine, and while Alwine judged her outfit as completely inappropriate for a meeting such as this, she could not help but enjoy the aesthetic in general. Faye Malvern she easily recognized. The paramour of a man Alwine deeply respected, whom she had not seen since those months during which they had all worked so hard together. Knowing what she did of the man's politician viewpoints and on life… She could only assume that since the woman was now a minister with the Confederacy, it meant that she was no longer in any form of relationship with him.

Corius Harckon,

Daegon Corvinus ,

Seraphina Corvinus , and @@Visanj T'shkali , were all more people she did not know.

But

Kyyrk , she did. Alwine chuckled. The man had been so disinterested in the Confederacy at first, and had later changed his mind to join it. She'd followed his records for a short while, seeing him move from position to position, before at last landing in the role of the Lord Commander. If he remembered her at all, he gave no hint.

But she understood.

Alwine had left the Confederacy. To the eyes of those who had stayed behind, that meant she no longer existed, and would never exist until they too decided to leave. Unless they fought, and that was exactly what would be happening that day. Perhaps on Siskeen, words would prevail, but pretty much everyone and their mother by now had at least an earpiece or two that updated them constantly about the happenings on and around Ryloth. But she would not balk. If people who had been part of her life in one way or another chose to isolate themselves over stupidity, she would grant them the choice to do so.

Smelling the other Lupine in the room,

Larentia , Alwine beckoned for the other woman to come closer. She did know her well, not at all. Her records did not even offer a last name. But she knew the woman had once been part of the Confederacy as well, and had then joined the Agents of Chaos with them. They had spoken briefly, but once or twice, and Larentia had been kind enough to give Alwine's Lupine Stone a drop of blood, so that it would no longer pulse if she was around. The stone had been a gift, serving as a way to discover more Lupines by increasing the range far beyond what their metahuman sense of smell let them. It was only recently that Alwine had it cased into a thin silver necklace, which she hung around her neck yet under her clothes. She didn't need to see the pulsing when a strange Lupine was around. She could feel it when it began.

Alwine blinked as

Enlil greeted those who had gathered, and then prompt sent their bodyguards out. This, she had not expected. For a moment, she allowed herself to feel snug about not having one so she would not lose anything, but then she realized… Could Larentia be considered as one? No, for she already was inside. She hoped the man would not try to send the other wolf away.

When he came for her though, he took her by surprise.

With a sigh, her hand moved to her weapon, only to pause mid-air. She remembered Alderaan. It had been a mistake, when she had wanted to disarm herself but instead of removing the sheath, she had removed the weapon itself, causing panic. This time, she would not be so foolish. Her hand moved, slower than one would expect. Only those who would pay incredible close attention would notice the stiffness in the fingers of her left hand. Removing the sheath now required effort. Her healing was slow. Too slow. But she surrendered it.

And at last, they were ready to begin.

Alwine shut her mind and attention off to the happenings on Ryloth for the moment; she wished to focus on

Derek Dib and his words. There was nothing she had to add to what he had to say. Though this was the first time she was seeing the man, she could do little but agree with each and every word.

And the threat, had not gone unnoticed. Would the Confederates be surprised at it? She was uncertain; she knew that she was not, because his request had been given to the Agents of Chaos before today, and they had given their word.

And when the Agents of Chaos made a promise, they kept it.

Seraphina Corvinus · May 20, 2020

CIS:

John Locke |

Raven Thystle |

Kyyrk | Faye Malvern | @Visanj T’shkali | Corius Harckon |

Daegon Corvinus |

Derek Dib
AoC:

Alwine Daye |

Enlil |

Gabriel Volturi |

Annasari |

Larentia
Other: Holly Starstorm
Location: Palace, Pristine City, Olanet [Conference Area/Room/Hall]
Wearing: XXX
Weapons: None

Eyes of burnt umber turned toward the visage of her husband while they walked toward the designed meeting place. Her hand tingled from the chivalrous kiss he had placed to the back of her hand and some of her nerves were eased. Rarely, did she travel without Daegon. It wasn’t that he kept her from going where she pleased. She simply didn’t want to. He kept her in his line of sight—And that was where she wished to be. Seraphina was used to this role. She supported her beloved and offered counsel when he wished for it.

He heard her words. Listened.

It was more than she had actually hoped for in life. Her homeworld was not so progressive. Often, he teased that she was sharp of wit and soft of fist. It made her smile. If only, because it was true.

Her eyes followed the ground that they had linked up with palatable curiosity. The Minister of Influence (Faye Malvern) was, quite possible, the most resplendent woman she had seen within the Confederacy. With waving hair that spun in almost molten curls of glossy chocolate Sera couldn’t help but take note. She seemed to know exactly what she was doing; what her purpose was. She admired that. Seraphina had taken to shying away from the Exarch

John Locke . It wasn’t as if he was unpleasant—There was just something about him that made her want to hide. It wasn’t the parts of him that weren’t flesh. It was the level of his gaze. There was something in it she couldn’t name.

Perhaps it was the severity of the situation at hand? That would place anyone in an interesting temperament.

Raven Thystle was silent. Sera often sent furtive looks in her direction to try and figure out what the Viceroy of Felacat was thinking. She was so mysterious. They were about the same height, but, her hair held a wonderfully vibrant shade of crimson fire that she couldn’t help but focus on. Bursts of color always stole her attention. She was a lover, a musician, and an artist, at heart. Being married to a politician required more of her but it did not change her. She would always think of their people—Of their friends and family.

How did that work with red tape and clout?

She let Daegon figure that out.

When he pulled up his Holo-Comm she also peered at the notification. They held no secrets. For once—she wished she had minded her own. The Angel of Thyferra flinched at the sight of one Twi’lek beheading another on a live broadcast. Her voice stuck in her throat while Daegon informed the others. Her eyes burned. She had not known this person. She did not know the reason this member of their nation would willfully harm their own in such a grotesque way. The airwaves were ringing with threats of violence on Ryloth, but, the slender creature had only thought it to be initial reports. Rumors.

She was afraid.

How could any group seeking true liberation begin the diplomatic floor with killing?

Did it mean what she suspected? Would this finally be the day that most Viceroy suspected?

The day the Confederacy awoke once more and went back to war?

The rest of the walk to the Conference Hall was an absolute blur. She tried to keep her head held high for the sake of the reputation of her husband but it did not stop crystalline eyes from burning. Everyone else may have accepted this level of violence as acceptable, as the norm, but it was not. It was brutal, barbaric, and cruel.

A man (

Enlil ) that she did not know greeted them and informed them that they could enter freely as long as they left their bodyguards and weapons behind. Seraphina did not understand. Was she expected to arrive bearing arms against someone she considered a friend? Who was it that was the caretaker of the Siskeen? Was it this man? She thought not. “I have no weapons, sir.”, she offered softly, though uncertain if she would be heard. The soft aura of kindness she projected was also tainted. Full to the brim with sorrow. There was no hiding her intent.

Seeing as to how he was busy with wine and blockading others the small woman could only think to pass forward with some of the others. Seraphina was startled when she entered. The room seemed to be filled to the brim with people! There were so many faces, and such a strong sense of oppressive, spirit-crushing Force that it was dizzying for a moment.

It was as if someone was trying to make their presence eclipse all else.

Some, took seats immediately. Her hand disentangled from that of her husband, after a brief squeeze, and she instead made her way across the room. Entirely oblivious to any stares it might garner. It was a tiny bout of courage for a very small, no nothing person, filled with fear.

If someone grabbed her, or stopped her, she would obviously be surprised. What did she matter?

Sera let her gaze sweep around the room as she walked while a familiar voice gave her bravery. It was a tone that she was unused to, severe, and with notes that brooked no room for argument—But it was still their friend. She could remember the countless times that he explained to her the politics that she did not quite grasp. Daegon did the same, but, it wasn’t often that others were kind enough to do so. Often, they simply took her as being insipid. A flighty bird. Derek had never treated her that way. As if she were less. Because she wielded words, songs, over a sword.

She gathered the edge of her gown and hurried up whilst delicate footsteps moved over the floor. Half walking, half floating, as diathim were want to do. In her haste, she missed many other people. She didn’t know them and mostly assumed that they must be some sort of Siskeen advisors. She didn’t know that

Alwine Daye ,

Annasari ,

Gabriel Volturi ,

Larentia , Holly Starstorm, or any of the others may or may not have represented interests of the Agents of Chaos.

Perhaps she was a small, insipid, bird.

“Viceroy Dib—”, she spoke, briefly, and the room would hear her voice catch. She waited for the man to stand and immediately wrapped her arms around his middle. It was not a long embrace, nor, was in inappropriate. He would feel her uneasiness coupled with the occasional tremble. He would also know that she didn’t understand, however, he would also know her truth. Seraphina did not lie. “We came to help. Everything is…Not as it should be. We were worried.”

People were dying. Derek would know that bothered her most of all. Everything danced, obviously, on the edge of a knife.

She did not want to see the same thing happen here.

I do have permission to move forward toward Derek - Can be found here.

Asaraa Vaashe · May 20, 2020

Location: Ryloth - Festival - Colour Burst Shooting Stall
Tagging:

Srina Talon |

Darth Empyrean | Eira Talon |

Kat Decoria
Gear:

Again…it was happening again.

Another world, another day, a different space and faction but…but the feeling stayed the same. That feeling of panic, of terror that she’d felt that day. The Jedi only had to close her eyes and it felt the same.

Azure.

It had been a planet in the middle of no-where, hardly a blip on anyone’s map, hardy the place that anyone would ever spare a second thought. It was the planet she’d failed on. It was the planet she’d almost died on.

Every time she closed her eyes, when the world around her fell silent and her mind started to drift away. She could still see it, a river of souls, all the innocents consumed in the conflict flowing past her. All those souls lost to the force, all that suffering. She hadn’t been able to save them, had been able to do nothing but watch them flow by, o nothing but offer her apologies to them. She’d tried to save them, that sea of innocents, she’d pulled more of he force into herself that day than she ever had before but it hadn’t been enough to stand against the Dark Sun.

He wasn’t here today.

Today there was just Chaos, just a horror perpetrated by the terrorists and their friends up in the ships that had appeared around the planet. They claimed to offer freedom, yet the choice they offered wasn’t the freedom to choose their destiny, it was the freedom offered at the point of a blaster, at the tip of the sword. It was the freedom offered by the terror struck into the hearts of the citizens by the brutal murder of one of their own. It was the same freedom offered by conquerors and dictators the galaxy across.

It was false.

There was no truth to their claims of freedom, of choice. How could there be? They had offered the Confederacy time, scant time but still time to choose. Yet barely had that announcement been made than their ‘allies’ on the planet had decided to kill. No, it wasn’t a kill, it was a brutal execution. It was one more soul she’d been unable to save. If this was the choice given to the confederacy, well then it wasn’t a choice at all. How could they abandon the inhabitants of Ryloth who looked to them for protection?

“No.”

The word was barely more than a whisper, a declaration. They couldn’t do it. She couldn’t do it. Asaraa wasn’t the same girl she had been back on Azure. She was a Jedi Master now, she was the Lord Vigilant of the CIS. No-one else would die on her watch.

She wouldn’t allow it.

The Jedi glanced down at the slingshot in her hand, placing it on the counter sadly as she looked up at the stallholder who’d provided them in the first place. It had been fun, she’d been happy. For a moment the pink-haired one had been able to lose herself in the sheer joy of the moment with her three companions, had been able to raise a hand to greet a face from the past. Yet, like all such moments, it had proven fleeting.

She could already feel a sombre sense settling over the party as Darth Maliphant moved up next to the Exarch, his soft words clearly audible. He spoke of wanting a target, of someone to kill…an the Jedi couldn’t disagree with the sentiment. Her hand went up to touch the hilt of the sword protruding over her shoulder

Even in the midst of the festivities, she’d come festooned for war, prepared for the conflict that seemed all too eager to seep into the happy moments in the galaxy. And there were far too few of those, to begin with.

The Jedi stepped up to take a place on the other side of the white-haired Exarch, closing her eyes as she reached out to the sea of energy that surrounded her. She could taste the panic, the fear that suffused the force, tempting her to draw on it, to use it to impose her will on the Twi’leks surrounding her. For a moment she considered for a heartbeat before letting the emotions fall away, spreading her senses further, drawing on the lightside of the force. She could feel it suffusing her body, like the gentle caress of warm water, the smile of a friend's face held in her core for a moment. Then in a breath, she let that feeling drift out, spreading through the air surrounding them, tendrils of he force weaving together around her, an aura of calm and warmth.

She could hear the screams and cries abating, could feel the panic lessening in the force as the Twi’leks around them seemed to breathe again. She could feel through the force their panic, recede, not forgotten but pushed far enough back to allow them to think, to react to this new threat. Far enough for them to heed the words of the Exarch and find shelter.

Crystal blue eyes snapped open, a gaze as cold as ice glancing up at the ship in orbit. She knew the voice behind the threat, she’d once thought of her as a friend.

No more, no friend of hers could ever do something like this, be associated with people like this.

If Asaraa could reach out through the force, to pull the ship down to where she could face her she would, instead she’d have to settle for thwarting the terror she hoped to seed on the ground.

The Agents of Chaos sought to bring darkness to the planet, to wrap it in a cloak of terror, but the answer to that darkness was always the light.

Draconis Sederius Wolf · May 20, 2020

Objective: Save the Civilians
Location: Ready Room in Capital Garrison
CIS Allies:

Luna Terrik ,

Holt , Ryk Gaelir
AoC Enemies: Open

Draconis sat in the ready room seeing the reports on the viewscreen for what he'd missed while coming back from the bar with Dr. Alphonse. He had no words. What words were there? He was a soldier at heart. He fought to protect the people of his home and his neighbors to keep such atrocities from ever happening. He openly cried in front of the other soldiers, reaching his hands out like he could possibly reach the poor woman on the screen. No, don't do this, your quarrel was with them not her. His eyes would shut as he felt the tears burning on his skin. He was soldier of the SLDF. The Surric Local Defense Forces. His duty was to the people, to protect and uphold them at all costs. He could already remember the not so distant memories of the formation of the SLDF. Of the fires that had raged as his people fought to overthrow their own corrupt viceroy.

******************************

He could taste the sulfur in the air. People screaming, men running to and from positions. The whistle of artillery shells as the assault on the capital had begun. Draconis was personally leading a company of soldiers in the first landing, one of the first dropships to make landfall. He was at the head of the assault force.

Keep moving forward men, FOR THE PEOPLE OF SURRIC!

The roars of his men as they charged forward, knowing it was one final push. One last fight. They charged with the might of their freedom behind them, with peace of mind that they must win the day. Not could, but must, because history shown that sometimes you don't have to do your best, but what is necessary, even if that is impossible. The soldiers of the newly formed SLDF moved with purpose across the field of battle. And then, missiles flew overhead, slamming into one of the orbital elevators holding a station in orbit. A civilian station. Cables whined and snapped as the elevator began giving way, and he heard it over the comms.

Oh my god they're dropping the station on us!

There's civilians up there!!!

GET CLEAR!!!!

It had been with a mighty crash that the station had dropped on top of them. Draconis's losses had been in the hundreds, the civilian losses had been in the tens of thousands. And it didn't stop there. The viceroy had authorized the use of nuclear hell fire and nerve agents in populated areas. As Sergei advanced he would see more and more death on the planet. Civilians dying in the millions. People laying in the street convulsing because they simply didn't have the supplies to save them all. Cities burned to the ground in a single blast of blinding light. How every step he'd taken towards finishing the war, the former viceroy had used whatever weapons he had to make Draconis and the civilian population pay in blood. How they had to keep pushing. They had to keep fighting, because they didn't have a choice. It was hell made reality.

And that was the only thing he could think of as he saw the HoloNet.

************************************

A roar of rage erupted from the man as he picked up a chair in the room and hurled it at the display with a blood curdling scream.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

The screen would shatter as the men in the room looked at their normally such poised and composed leader. They saw his face. His rage. They recognized what had happened. What he'd seen. What they'd all seen and remembered. What they had vowed to never again let happen. Draconis's breath came in ragged as he looked about him. And for kark's sake he couldn't stop crying. He'd failed. In a final act of anger he slammed his gloved fist into a locker, the durasteel crumpling under his power armor as he tried to regain composure. But as he looked around him he saw the same thing. A group of men who looked like they'd seen ghosts. The war was fresh on all their minds, and even though they were the elite expeditionary forces of the SLDF, they were still fresh out of their own quite personal war. They all had been there when the stations were dropped like bombs. When they'd been hit with multiple gas and nuclear attacks. Many had lost friends, family, and other loved ones because of their enemy's total disregard for restraint. To use civilians as weapons against them.

A former enemy that looked a lot like what they were fighting now.

And then, Draconis felt it. That spark he'd discovered in the civil war. That fire, that drive that kept him going. That kept him pushing, that kept reminding him that all who'd died would have been in vain if he gave up. If he let them win. That voice of his conscience telling him that he needed to push through. That to give up now would be to forfeit all the people had done up to this point. He knew that the people needed to hear this. Stood tall, corrected his small curl of hair, and calmly walked to the second floor where the comms were. Draconis would speak calmly to the comms officer running the station.

"I need to use this station officer, can you get a wide band out to all Confederacy Defense Forces and Ryloth Militias?"

"Aye sir, one moment,"

Draconis would only need a moment as the man recognized the viceroy from earlier and worked with much skill. Draconis thanked him with a simple nod, and then approached the microphone. He touched it first to ensure that it was indeed on, and satisfied he cleared his throat before speaking.

"To all members of the CDF, this is Viceroy Draconis Sederius Wolf. I address you now, not as the Viceroy elect of the Surric System, not as the commander in chief of the Surric Local Defense Forces, but as a citizen and soldier of the Confederacy. Today we are faced with the very gravest of challenges. Today we face acts of terrorism, of war mongering, of attempting to dictate what people should say, do or even think through fear. And yet once again, we as the people and righteous defenders of the state have the choice before us. We must choose to stand for our morals, our rights, the very reason we live, or we will choose to go quietly and leave these people to their fates. All of you fighting with us need to know that everything that can be done to fight this threat, and protect these people, is being pressed into service. The Confederacy’s thirst for excellence, knowledge, every scientific achievement, every adventurous reach into the unknown, all our combined technologies and imaginations, and ever war we’ve ever fought has provided us the tools to wage this terrible battle. Through all the chaos that is our history, through all the wrongs and discord, through all the pain and suffering, through all our times there is one thing that has nourished our souls, and elevated both our Confederacy and the people of Ryloth above its origins, and that is our courage! The hopes and dreams of an entire planet are focused on us today. May we all, citizens and soldiers of this great confederacy, join hand in hand and deliver our reply to our foes. May we loudly proclaim, WE WILL NOT GO QUIETLY INTO THE NIGHT! WE WILL NOT GIVE UP WITHOUT A FIGHT! We’re gonna live on! We’re gonna survive! Today, we, the people of Ryloth, and the rest of the Confederacy once again declare we will not stand for tyranny, oppression, or the use of violence against our people! Today, we show the rest of the galaxy when the wolves are at the door, and demanding their tithe, that we not only refute them, but also do so by placing our lives on the line, to protect our neighbors and all we hold dear! To my fellow Confederates, good luck, and may the force be with you."

And then as he donned his own helmet he heard more chatter across the comms, multiple reports coming in that a ship called the Golden Lance was going full bore towards the planet.

And was moving into a bombardment position.

His eyes went wide with shock. The treachery of these animals knew no bounds! They would massacre the world just to get their message across. And then he realized that the Clansmoot was still going on across the way. They needed to get out of there now! He dialed his command channel for his aviation battalion immediately calling through the comms.

"MAJOR GET GREEN SQUADRON AIRBORNE NOW WE HAVE TO EVACUATE THE VICELORD!"

"Sir, we're still getting-"

"I SAID NOW MAJOR! WE DO NOT HAVE TIME TO WASTE!"

Another transmission would cut through on the command channel, a cocky pilot's voice coming over.

"Green Lead acknowledges all Confederate 6! Green Squadron get those tag alongs stowed we got some royalty to save!"

The Viceroy breathed a small sigh of relief as they left, it was in their hands now, and the hands of those brave souls in orbit. He walked downstairs to the ready room where all of the men stood formed up with weapons ready. Their captain did a quick glance behind him and then saluted Draconis.

"The men are ready sir,"

"I want contact established with all available units! Get our crews out to the artillery as soon as possible, we don't have time to waste. Our Odins must be there to repel this attack. But above all, get those civilians to safety. Nothing else matters,"

"Sir, Commander

Luna Terrik on comms,"

"Patch me through!" He ordered as the men immediately moved about with dignified purpose and resolve. As he heard the line connect he immediately spoke to Luna. "Commander this is Viceroy Draconis Sederius Wolf reporting in, the SLDF,"

Viana Morreth · May 20, 2020

Location: Streets of Ryloth
Objective: Supposedly to enjoy the day
Allies: CIS - Mandragora specifically
Tags: |

Shamira Karuto |

Vytal Noctura |

Alluria Ivalice | Effie |

Julra Repraj |

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

With the consideration that everything Shamira had ever talked Viana into doing had always led to some bad situation in mind, being talked into going back to Ryloth for any given reason was not an easy task to accomplish. In fact, convincing the white haired witch to do anything that the redheaded fire flower wanted to do was a challenge in and of itself. It wasn't that Vi didn't trust Shamira, no that wasn't the case at all. It was merely the fact that her ideas always seemed to lead them into some sort of catastrophe, and admittedly? Viana was over it - completely so. Which had made this whole Twi'lek celebration thing quite unappealing to her. Yes, she believed there was plenty to celebrate, good on them! But...to say Vi was paranoid over Shamira's ideals was an understatement.

And yet, here she was...Talked into accompanying the redheaded witch, and honestly she was still attempting to figure out how it happened. The conversation was somewhat foggy; a fact that made one corner of Vi's mouth curl into a smirk, though she did not dwell on the fact. Instead, she shift about in her seated position, lounged on a bench while she watched Shamira entertain the little younglings currently about. When she was eventually addressed, both of Vi's brows lofted, and her arms folded loosely against herself as she seemed to debate an answer to this inquiry very carefully. "Admittedly, I'm not any more fond of being here than I would be were we out traversing the galaxy for whatever crazy new herbs you were in need of."

When she was approached, Viana easily opened an arm to allow her favorite redhead to lean in as desired. "This however, is certainly much better than plucking plants." her smirk broadened, clearly amused with herself, but it did not last.

All at once, the day turned into exactly what Viana had been paranoid about - well, not exactly of course, she wasn't clairvoyant, but the fact that nothing that she and Sha ever did remained peaceful was always a heavy thought weighing in Viana's mind. Though it was hard to say that she was not surprised, considering the context of what was happening and everything else that was going on. The messages, the acts, all of it was not at all something Vi could have expected or predicted in a million years. And watching a public execution? It had rooted her to the spot, enough so that she couldn't even really feel Shamira tugging on her hand at first. "What just happened..." she breathed the words aloud, but they did not need an answer. It was clear as day what had just transpired, so when Shamira gripped her hand again, Viana's body responded.

In that moment, she honestly didn't know where they were going. What were they supposed to be doing? Hell, what could they do about all of this - what were they supposed to try and do? Not being an official member of the coven certainly had its setbacks, especially in such a situation as this one right now. So for the moment, all Viana could do was keep a close step behind Shamira as she followed the redheaded witch, ever mindful of their surroundings now that the day had clearly not at all gone according to plan - yet again.

Anesia Jy'Vun · May 20, 2020

C H A O S

S M A S H

Location: Aboard the Nocte Aranea | Landing on Ryloth
Allies: Agents of Chaos, The Siskeen Coalition, Twi'lek Freedom Fighters
Enemies: The Confederacy of Independant Systems
Tags:

Katrine Van-Derveld | Anyone the wants to tag along
Post: 1

A game must be played, the drums of war must sound, and the madness... heard. Felt. Lived.

Tasted.

Once, it was a thought strung into the minds of the Confederates-- a mantra -- the whole of them, the heart, beat as the one savior to a chained Galaxy. They...she stood in the face of oppression and rung that bell of Freedom. Their passion burned as a beacon. They fought for ALL-- the weak and desolate. The broken. And so, their power rose as did their popularity.

A sigh must have been audible, breaking the silence in that cabin. One of its crew member stared, the galaxies in his eyes dampened by the white as he beheld her faraway gaze. They quickly averted, landing on the Witch.

Now, that flame devoured. It consumed. The only traitors were that of The Confederacy, to the systems and people they swore to protect. Darkness reached from the corners of their Empire. A great suffocating thing. It smothered the LIGHT they had once brought. They had become what they once stood to abolish on their quest for power and loyalty to The Darkside.

There was something to be said about it-- a message to rattle the chains.

The descent planetside brought her to and emerald pools flicked to Katrine, a ghost of a smile appearing. Booted feet rocked with Nocte Aranea's movement as if they were in sync. Her lithe shoulders rolled in the spidersilk, archaic fingers flexed as if coming alive for the first time. Animated. Anesia's thoughts drifted again- though, this time, not fully emersed- to other wars, to the people whom she shared losses and victories. They would be with her today.

It crumbled away at the Lupine's voice, drifting into the ether. In those brief moments before the General would reply, Kat's own mental memoirs touched the surface of her's. "Dathomir runs deep in your veins, Mandragora veins...." Jy'Vun's head canted, allowing the dark braided cord of her hair to sway from her shoulder, "...what is now? Mm. Fresh wounds." The green of her eyes glittered in mischeif. Mind forever plotting. Aunt though? She nearly flinched. Family...

Am I ready?

Finally answering, Ferrius spoke over the whine of the engines, "Naturally."

While the ship began to straighten, she took in the bird's eye view, noting the landscape and mulling over the voice transmissions. Disgust painted her visage in the form of a smirk, just the barest hint of white. There was no fear, just anticipation.

"For the Future, Katrine. For Larentia."

Lirka Ka · May 20, 2020

Location: Ryloth, Cliff-face
Objective: Wait for filthy Rebels and CIS to start fighting
Enemies: AoC and Allies
"Allies": CIS and Allies

Lirka hated waiting. It was boring, and the smells of Ryloth had lost their nostalgia and had now grown to annoyance: breathing the stale air of her helmet was only an option for so long. Her arms remained cross, the Goliath pacing back and forth. Why weren't they fighting? What pathetic excuse of a liberation didn't have violence? She detested the Mandalorians with all her being, probably more than all her being: even in their near destroyed state. And they had at least brought an armada, countless warriors, all those foolhardy idiots ready to give their life for a planet already lost when they had come trying to reclaim their homeland. This? Now this was just pedantic. Where was the drama? Where was the bloodshed? Where was the opportunity for glorious Imperial intervention as the Rebels realized they could never hide from the watchful eyes of the Sith? The Sephi huffed in annoyance. While usually some of her bodyguard would offer consul or comfort in a moment like this, all had learned that it was much wiser to not speak to the Moff when she was in one of her moods.

Sometimes, Legionnaires were not so smart. One of the soldiers approached her, showing the holovideo of the poor freedom fighter's decapiation.

"As if it wasn't bad enough, they don't even know how to remove a head right! Look at the sloppy craftsmanship, these Rebels truly are just deplorable."

Shaking her head in annoyance Lirka returned back to her not-so-patient pacing: before the same trooper returned, showing her another message from the various bickering between parties.

"Here Ma'am, Confederate comm message too. They gave a response to the Rebels."

Lirka listened, of course. Against her better judgement. It made her want to gag.

"If I hear one more idiot ramble on about their oh so precious "freedom", and whine about "oh slavery is wrong! Our planet is free so now we have to be worthless dogs as a response" I'll damn well just rip this whole place apart myself!"

And of course, now it was time for one of those Lirka certified monologues.

"Do you understand natural order, Legionnaire? I shall teach you it. Why were the Twi'lek slaves? Because they were weak. Because they allowed their planet to become the stomping grounds of the strong. And that is the order of the Galaxy! The strong survive, and the weak are broken under the foot of the strong! That is why Moridinae burned, why their world was smashed. Why their puny people toil away in the camps, dying at my whim. I broke the order, when I served under the Confederacy's pitiful little Vicelord. They will bemoan and cry for freedom, in a Galaxy where there is no place for freedom! Do you understand that, Legionnaire? Freedom is a lie. A falsehood that will lead us into annihilation! It will take but one true menace, a true threat to this Galaxy, and all those who tout their great and mighty ideals of oh-so-great "freedom" and "democracy" will be the first to be annihilated! The strong rule, and the weak obey!

Clearing her throat. Lirka realized what she had allowed herself to do, the ever so distant echo coming throughout the valley. Though at that distance it sounded more like a GONK droid being mauled by a monster than coherent speech. Giving a nod to her solider, Lirka ended things on a more proper note.

"But yes. You are strong, Legionnaire. There will be a great place for you in this Galaxy."

"Yes, Ma'am. Thank you Ma'am."

Gods above. Legionnaires were a bore. Though they were at least good feeds of information, sometimes. Though more chatter filled her ear, the sounds of disobedience from the mercenaries under

The Monster a low chuckle now coughing it's way out from the helmet's distortion. The legionnaires all knew what was going on, the Imperial strike team had been watching every public comm frequency like their life depended on it: and despite being Lirka's chosen, it absolutely did.

"Oh, how I adore being right. Like I said, the Confederacy had grown weak. They are weak-willed buffoons, not even able to keep their own warriors in line. Truly, quite pathetic. Wouldn't you say, Legionnaire?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Absolutely Ma'am."

One of these days, she was probably going to end up strangling one of them.

//Edit: I missed a sass opportunity.

Jai'galaar Gred · May 20, 2020

Gear: Jai'galaar's Beskar'gam Armor, 2x Trayc'kal, 2x trained Strill
Ally Tags:

Hanna
Enemy Tags:

Holt

Draconis Sederius Wolf

Adron Malvern Darth Miseria

Shamira Karuto

Jai sighed a little, looking down as he eyed the Twi'lek on the screen. That. He shook his head, seeming to shake just a little more. He looked at Madalena as she apologized, but he shook his head a little. "Not your fault. Just.... This reminds me of sentiments on Mandalorians." He grumbled a little, but smiled some as the woman placed a hand on one of the Strill. The creature let out a non-aggressive growl as it rubbed the Sorceress's hand. Jai chuckled a little, glad for something nice. "It seems to like you."

Then more words were spouted out both ways about who would draw first blood. Mentally Jai had to admit he scoffed a little. Pretty clear to him neither did. Not the CIS or AoC. It was the Twi'leks. But hey, the victor wrote the history. Would be interesting to see at least. He was quick to follow to the pods though, ready to face off a new enemy. He would climb into the pod, looking at the others and getting the Strill situated before speaking up. "See you guys on the surface." But a new transmission soon hit his ears.

"No...." Anger, confusion, and old memories seemed to flood him. No no no! Not another planet. Not like that. He'd already had to watch one world burn from a form of orbital bombardment. His own home. He.... He couldn't.... Jai's Strill rubbed up on him some, which got a smile, but didn't stop the ragged breathing that began. Or the more violent shaking. He.... He didn't want to see it again. Be haunted by more memories. He just.... He couldn't handle it again.

Invasion Thou Shall Not Suffer an Empire to Live | AoC invasion of CIS-held Siskeen & Ryloth

Ryk Gaelir

Guest

The Dark Paladin of Chaos

CEO of Breshig War Forge Consolidated

The Storm King

Void Seeker

R O O K

Senator of Vaklin, 1st Siskeeni Advisor

Monster

I'm a likable guy. Ask your mom.

Character

Aspect of Devotion

][ A B S O L U T I O N ][

The Angry Wolf

Angel of Thyferra

Worst Jedi

Character

Viana Morreth

Guest

M A D N E S S

Really edgy

Jay Galore

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