Dominion Through Blood, Dirt, and Bone | NIO Dominion of Huk

[Tavius Muuaji]

Obj 2

As soon as Tavius' squad cut down another hallway there was a charging force of Sith Troopers moving to meet them, bolts flying at his team as he ducked to avoid a bolt that struck the wall where his had just been.

"Bring up that Chainblaster!"

A duo carried that beast of a weapon, planting it on the ground, one of the other members of the 257th deployed a portable shield generator and activated it, protecting them from the horde of hostiles they were coming for them. As the enemy closed in up to ten metres, panic began to set into the group and Tavius gave the command for the shield to drop before jerking himself out of the way.

Just in time for the chainblaster to begin spitting out crimson fury that lanced into walls and down the hallway, dropping enemy combatants that were none the wilder. The front rows caught by surprise, and the ones following unable to see what was mowing through their friendlies so quickly before it was too late, and once the hallway was clear save for a few grunts of hostiles, the squad took off.

They had a journey to the engine room, but it was dependent on them to complete the objective to preserve as many New Imperial lives as was possible. With that in mind, not once did his thoughts travel to the Stossjaeger in tow with Rexus Wenck . Whoever they were, Tavius had assured himself they were the best he could have gotten.

 

[Rexus Wenck]

Objective II
Tag: Tavius Muuaji

"Tell," Slam, "Us," Another slam as the Sith Troopers head impacted against the reinforced door, "The access code! You dumb prick!" Twigg bellowed. He held the Sith lieutenant by the scruff of his neck and had been slamming the poor unfortunate S-IMP into the defensive wall with brutal abandon. Rommulus and Remus' march to the bridge had been stopped by Sith personnel retreating to the otherside of a blast door, and then sealing it, only with one of their number left behind. Now Twigg was having his way with him, "Come off it lad! Just give us the numbers!" Twigg screamed. But there was no response, the Sith Trooper grunted and gurgled as Twigg then let him go. The trooper then slumped to the ground, blood pooling from his helm.

"Well done." Rexus sardonically mused eyeing Twigg with as much derision as he could muster from behind the helm, "I told you Twigg, that wasn't a good idea." Wenck growled, approaching the bulwark, "But no, no, you thought you could just, ragdoll a guy, and think he'd give you everything you'd wanted with a platter and maybe mimosa." Rexus then sighed, "Looks like we're gonna have to do this the ole fashioned way." Rexus hooked his fingers into one of the divets, and began to pull, "Come on, lets haul." Both Rexus and Twigg now both began to push against the blast doors locking mechanism. Sparks and groans came from the door, as it attempted to keep itself locked.

But little by little, the door opened. Rexus could hear the clattering of blasters. Hurried chatter as the two gargantuan Death Troopers began to pull the security door open. "A little more Twigg, and we've got it...." Rexus grunted, "A little more!" And then, to their shock, one of the Sith marines barrelled through, attempting to charge the two. It was a clumsy effort, with the soldier ending up horizontal, his left leg caught in the small opening. The two Death Troopers stopped, the door sealed, and the burden of the clumsy appendage? Relieved.

 

[Willver Bennbri]

B L U F O R

Halketh Dorian Sicarrio Meko Sorrin​

As the shot rang out, something stirred within him. Adrenaline perhaps. It was nice to feel something after exhaustion made a few days seems like weeks, even if that something was the shit hitting the fan. They all knew that the red team would eventually be upon them. They didn't know it was going to be right now, and even if they had been at the height of awareness there was little they could do to match the reds in a fight. Archie looked around the group to see who had been hit. It seemed everyone was fine, but he still heeded the words of Meko to take cover. Even though his torso and helmet where cloaked in a ragged grey poncho, there were still parts of his orange and white armour that would be an easy target fro the sniper if he exposed them. Luckily the swamp was filled with logs, trees, and in some places swamp grass that was taller then him. He ducked behind one of these logs and knelt down, blaster in ready position. The last 10 seconds had been a blur that had shifted his many days-long haze into an immediate rush of adrenaline. His heart raced. He looked back to his teammates. Meko yelled at the sniper, wherever it was. Archie looked to his belt to see the smoke grenade he had chosen as part of his loadout for this mission. With all the water they'd been walking, sitting, and sleeping in the past week he was uncertain they would work, yet he had to give it a try. "I'm tossing smoke!" He unclipped one from his belt, activated it, and lobbed it over the log. It would give them about half a minute to react while they were obscured from the sniper's view.

 

[Tavius Muuaji]

Obj 2

Stepping over the bodies of slagged corpses was never a good time. Sometimes you could see the faces behind the helmet, faces twisted in tormented pain. Behind his own helmet, Tavius' features were set into determination. What they were doing was necessary for the mission objective, and as the leading officer, he was sure to get it done.

While the squad covered their slicer that was unlocking the door, Tavius patched into the Stossjaeger.

"Preparing for breach into engineering."

And before he could continue his sitrep, more hostiles came around the corner firing.

Rexus Wenck

 

[Damocles]

I _ A M _ D A M O C L E S
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
738TH IMPERIAL STARFIGHTER SQUADRON "OUTBREAK"
INSIDIOUS AURORA | HUK ORBIT
TIE/OTX OUTLANDER

The order from the higher-ups came in and was swiftly relayed to the rest of the squadron: Destroy the enemy command ship's hypervelocity cannon. Their Outlanders weren't exactly equipped to take the battlecruiser by themselves, but they could definitely carry out the hit given to them. Damocles was thankful he requested proton torpedoes as his ordnance for this flight, it would certainly help against that remaining two-kilometre monstrosity on ship's underbelly.

"We're entering their firing range. Accelerate to attack speed and switch shields to double-front." Outbreak Leader boomed over the comlink, their shields flickering as the starfighters sped up to match their commander. Damocles could see that other squadrons were putting in work by distracting the enemy starfighter screens for them to slip into the enemy battle line relatively unnoticed.

The battlecruiser started taking up more and more of his window as it started peppering them with laser fire and the like, one of his wingmates being unfortunate enough to get caught in the sights of an overzealous gunner, the fighter's shields flaring before disintegrating before the man's eyes. "Fuck." He muttered under his breath, just quiet enough that the comms didn't pick it up.

Asha Krataajontû | Var Koon | Jalter Volff ​

 

[Cartr Arkhis]

Miss

Worst possible scenaro one Hit missed completely second one barely touched battlecruiser, but the operation was not lost, Cartr ordered his squadrosn to help Bombers in destroyig Hypervelocity Canonn. after few While they surrounded Allied Formations and defended them from Enemy starfighters. Now they neded to also get rid of Hostile Point defense cannons, Cartr Chosed Fastest and best way. he got with him two pilots switched on Turbolasers of TIE Slashers and focused fire on Enemy Anti-Fighter Defensive systems.

After few minutes of making "safe" path for Bombers they came back to formation and switched off the Turbolasers, they are not usefull untill we reach Main target, Cartr connected communicator with Bomber Squadron and started talking.
<We will escort you to Hypervelocity cannon then we will engage enemy Squadrosn defending Bridge and Mentioned cannon.. rest of job is up to you, Hope you won't screw this up>
He turned off comunicator and continued to escort allies trought battlefield, soon he saw lone Fighter coming closer to them... What a Bold Pilot or a Dumb one. He left a formation for few seconds to deal with him but as he tought it was a Dumb pilot rather than Bold.

After he came back to formation he started to receive data about Defending Hypervelocity Cannon fighter, mostly old and slow fighters not many usefull ones .Still they were danger for mission. He looked again at Bombers and turned musci on. Nothing was better than killing Sith-Imps with Classical music in head.

​

Jalter Volff
Damocles
Var Koon
Asha Krataajontû

 

[Jorus Fel]

The Quelling of Ebrab
W A S _ W O L L E N _ W I R _ T R I N K E N
byoo
​

Warlord Erbab. The scummiest scum Kalee could produce. A self-proclaimed warlord coming from a degenerate and ancient line of Huk enslavers was materially supported by the Sith to wage guerrilla warfare against the Imperials on Huk and generally be a pain in the ass.

We were sent to 'alleviate the pain' once and for all.

The debrief on the runway was short, quick and to the point. As usual. These vets never minced words and generally never gave any rookie like me the details that drew the line between life and death. I was slowly coming to the terms with the fact that the 501st truly was a hell for any rook. Old fucks really would just prefer to be wiped out rather than nourish a new generation and protect the existence of the unit for the future.

And as usual, they tossed me, just like any other recruit, out of the front lines and the action and into more menial tasks. Artillery slash engineers. Basically support.

Hopping onto the small convoy headed towards our FOB, camp Chak, we'd be providing fire support for the counter-insurgency missions going in towards the base of the hills where supposedly Ebrab was hiding. Huk wasn't priority, resources allocated were only enough for ground supplying through repulsor trucks.

"So where you from, Rook?" Pvt. Ganor asked me the usual small talk.

"Ain't they call you rook, too, man?" I asked sourly. Been a shit mood ever since they dropped us here. I ain't no moody person but something about the Kaleesh made my blood boil; maybe cause I almost got stomped by a half-rhypalm-melted fucker back on Kalee.

"Well, yeah, but I've been longer with the battalion than you. Seniority and all, you know." he shrugged with a nasty smirk on his face.

"Lorrd." I replied to his previous question.

"Oh shit, really? You can do that all 'kinetic communication' sign language kind of thing?"

I nodded.

"Damn! Sarge - think Rook should teach us that? That'd be helpful as hell I reckon, no?"

"Sure." the sergeant replied mechanically completely ignoring our little chatter.

"You gotta teach me that, mate."

"Now? Ain't sure we got the time all things considered-"

"Bulls. What are you expecting we'd be doing up at camp Chak, huh? Fire missions are mostly chatter anyway, we've got all the time in the galaxy." He explained, a pause. "Wait." Ganor leaned back. "First time arty?"

I nodded. He cackled and reached for a pocket on the vest over his chest armor. A nearly demolished deck of cards was produced.

"Look at the wear on these." Ganor showed me. They looked ancient to the point I could swear they smelled like socks. "Got them six months ago, we've played more sabacc in that time than the whole galaxy in the last century."

I wasn't sure what to make of that, to be honest with ya. On one hand you would be grateful to keep the paychecks rolling with zero risk but than again we were THE stormtroopers. THE 501st. Elite. You knew it from the air with which the vets carried. Their presence simply molded you into the pinnacle version of a stormtrooper. You wanted to be in the thick of the fight.

"They teach you how to play sabacc on Lorrd, yeah?"

"Sure do."

"Sweet. We'll get a game up soon as we're at camp. Don't bet too much - arty mission bonus ain't as big as I wished it was, and you're more likely to get robbed by me."

 

[Asha Krataajontû]

HUK, SPACE //: OBJECTIVE II //: Operation: INSIDIOUS AURORA
NIO FLEETER OPPOSITION Damocles Var Koon Jalter Volff Cartr Arkhis
---

The Qo’krataa fleet wasn’t much more than a ramshackled together mishmash of different war vessels and museum pieces, and for all that she did wrong, Vymerigh knew this. She understood that the odds of them winning this conflict were falling further and further into the abyss with every passing moment. It could be said that they were losing control of the battle. They were scattered throughout the planet, hardly enough proper firepower behind their fleet to dare to put up any form of meaningful resistance to the oncoming storm of NIO forces. All they could hope for is that the few line vessels, the few that were fresh from conflict, the few that still had working turbolasers, could give the new Imperials a run for their money. The Legate class vessel that she commanded, one of the few proper cruisers within the Qo’krataa lines. One of the few that could provide a proper threat. From her hangers were birthed various TIEs, X-Wings, ARCs, and various other dozens of cobbled together uglies.

Though the Qo’krataa didn’t make their name through their well made tools, they made their name through dedication.

“High Commodore! We have starfighters on a dead trajectory for us. Orders?”

It was a simple reply.

“Bring them down, I want the Point Defense Driver working overtime, redirect local squadrons. Hold the masquerade.” In truth, more of the ships armaments were inoperable than could be guessed by a glance, but thankfully, they still held the cards on what they showed the New Imperials.

The Driver slowly lugged themselves around, the gunners in the bowels of the vessel slamming at various control panels and running different firing algorithms as the brightly colored screens gave readouts on targets, location, travel speed. Before the Ion Disruptors began to rail off shot after shot into the dark, echoing into silence, burning in the direction of the approaching New Imperial push.

Ontop of this, one of the squadrons of grey and black spraypainted ARC-170s and various other uglies of early to late Imperial era TIE makes broke off from other scattered conflicts to convene on the OUTBREAK squadron. Rolling through blaster shots, friendly fire, and bustling and burping engines that barely seemed to want to work. It was akin to a mob of angry villagers attempting to bring down a fully armored knight while a trebuchet rained hellfire on the fields.

Still a threat to consider.

Coming in at two oclock, sending bursts of poorly aimed and poorly trained rounds in the direction of the squadron, came the raw rage of the Qo’krataa.

 

[Cartr Arkhis]

Fear

As Cartr observed battlefield he saw Dozens of Hostile Fighters targetting Outbreal and Black Squadron, but the longer he observed enemies the more he realized not his Underlings were the ones that should fear, their enemies were flying old, in mostly even incomplete Starfighters. His orders were simple.
<Turn on Turbolasers, Missle targeting systems ready I want to use theri numerus advantaeg against them>
His plan was simple, but now he will need to prepare...

After a few whiles his Squadrons were ready. Now this is where the fun begins. after he flew into a swarm of Hostile fighters he did not count fighters he destroyed. He just pulled the trigger and started using the full arsenal of the TIE Slasher. After few whilst he used communication device to intercept enemy Transmissions
{Where are they }
Behind you, dumbasses. he destroyed next 9 X-Wings
{I see their leader! Follow me}
Cartr Fighter systems showed that he was follwoed by few hostile units.
{I got him, Firing missile!}
Wrong. He activated Missile Deactivator and Turned his fighter around. Turbolasers: Active. The barrage he fired was enough. He destroyed the whole squadron that followed him. He was listening to Hostile Communication and was enjoying that his enemies with every second were falling into greater and greater Panic, fear was enough to make them aim less effective and fly less carefully after few moments his own enemies were shooting themself thinking they were getting rid of enemies, they were even flying in each other. He was Smiling under the Helmet as he was enjoying the Fear he and his Underlings were causing among Hostile forces.

After few whiles he heard in Hostile Communication the line that made him laugh
{I think we are safe let's concentrate on Bombers}
He ordered his Underlings to follow their Enemies just as they were part of their Fighter forces during this time their targeting systems for missiles got many targets to destroy then he gave the order "let an act Begin ''. His squadrons fired all missiles after a few while half of enemy starfighters were destroyed. The Symphony of battle have reached the critical moment he ordered to return to Bomber formation, better if they won't lose thsi chance now their target is to defeat enemy Flagship not Fighters. The loses were minot one Friendly Pilot to 2/3 of Hostile Fighter forces defending Battlecruiser. Now their jow was simple: Deliver the Package to Recipient.
Asha Krataajontû
Damocles
Var Koon
Jalter Volff

 

[Rexus Wenck]

Objective II
Location: Hostile Command Ship
Allies: Tavius Muuaji

Seems the Storm Commandos were a little more effective than the Death Troopers had initially thought. "Copy that," Kampf Three reported, "We too are closing in on shield generator maintenance." Seemed they had not nearly been as bogged down as the Death Troopers. Scowling Rexus kept silent, and foisted his fingers once more into the blood smeared divets of the blast door. The door now had far less give, the previous efforts of Twigg and Wenck had strained its locking mechanism. The door steadily peeled diagonally, opening up for a volley of hostile fire from evidently traumatised S-IMPs.

Rexus strained, and tapped Twigg, "Hold it open, wouldya?" He requested, before taking out his pistol, and standing in the opening. Rexus' gargantuan frame, mixed with the personalised shield generator of his armour absorbed the blaster bolts. They intensified their fire, as the Death Trooper strode over to the first combatant nearest, and snatched the rifle from his hand and threw it behind his back. The unlucky trooper attempted to turn and run, but found the grip of the pistol, firmly imbedded into the back of his head. The trooper slumped to the ground, weakly attempting to crawl, before a boot in the back of his head ended the endeavour. The Sith kept firing, and Rexus kept walking, up to the next man, snatching him by the scruff of his neck, and throwing him into a console, shattering it.

"Keep firing! Keep firing!" The Sith sergeant screamed to her men, "We will fight to the last-!" Pew. A shot to the head finished her. Dergan Twigg had entered the fray, the blast doors now spewed smoke. Man had killed machine. And now these men were on the hunt.

 

[Jorus Fel]

The Quelling of Ebrab
W A S _ W O L L E N _ W I R _ T R I N K E N
byoo
​

Ganor was right. We really didn't have much to do other than play sabacc by a fixated WG-211 howitzer. The beast of an artillery cut down to its muzzle, while a scary weapon, revealed how low priority this mission was in terms of resources.

"Damn it, mate!" Ganor muttered. "You're not half as bad as I thought, Rook." he whistled under his breath.

"HALF as bad?! You sure you got lunch money left, man?"

"Oh sod off will ya?"

<"Stalwart, this is HQ, how copy?"> the comms finally took our attention as the chatter previously had been only between HQ and patrols. Besh squad had gotten into a heavy firefight north of here at the base of the mountains where Ebrab was supposedly at.

<"HQ, this is Stalwart, loud and clear."> Sarge rushed to the comms from his brief nap almost tripping in his own feet.

<"Stalwart, requesting fire mission on grid one-five, five-four. Repeat - fire mission, grid: one-five, five-four. Ten rounds.">

Sarge transmitted the grid coordinates to our screens as me and Ganor jumped to our positions. I sat on the gunner's seat and awaited Ganor's instructions.

<"Roger that, HQ.">

"Hayek, load's in, yeah?" Sarge asked and I checked the screen in front of me. 30 HE rounds loaded.

"Yes, Sir!"

"Ganor?"

"On it, Sarge." he replied as he tweaked the interactable holomap projected in front of him. "Rook - azimuth: zero, four, eight, zero."

"Ranging. Zero...four....eight.......zero?"

"Zero four eight zero."

"Elevation?"

"One, three, six, five."

"One....three....six....five. Set."

"Let me get the range on this, uh...three five kay em. Erm...charge one. Three secs."

"Charge one set."

"Fire."

I fired. "Shot."

<"Shot, over."> Sarge relayed. Three seconds later, <"Splash, over.">

<"Roger, splash. Adjust fire, seventy-five meters. You're overshooting, Steadfast.">

<"Roger, adjust seventy-five meters.">

"Adjusting, Sarge." I said and tweaked a bit the elevation on the queen, then fired. "Shot."

<"Shot, over."> a pause. <"Splash, over.">

<"Roger, splash. Effects on target. Fire for effect.">

<"Roger, effects on target. Fire for effect.">

"Firing for effect." I depressed the trigger.

The reverberating shake of the ground with each round, the gentle click of a new round loading in the muzzle - it all synched together with the patrol's jubilant shouts through their frequencies.

I hoped we splashed the shit out of those Kaleesh scumbags.

They were the bad guys, right?

 

[Tavius Muuaji]

Obj 2

Tavius jerked backwards when a crimson bolt found itself burning out into his chest. There was little response to it besides the surprise he had felt, and he angld his rifle in the direction of the Sith Imperial Trooper that had fired and sent a burst of three rounds burning down into their path before he got confirmation that the door to the engineering room had been breached.

"Go, go, go!" He ushered, holding the rear as he and waited till the last one was in before signaling to close the door once he had got in. It didn't take long for the Sith forces to begin slamming on the doors as their slicer locked the door from within. "You two, stay with him. Make sure this door stays closed till we're ready."

The rest of the team knew their objective.

They were already setting about to planting their explosives all throughout the room on consoles and whatever else looked important. Others searched for other entrances into the engineering room, ensuring they weren't taken for surprise. The sound of electricity sparking as a maintenance doors systems were fried and torn out the wall was faintly heard as the Storm Commandos effectively locked themselves in the room.

Simultaneous strikes on key points of the ship are what Tavius sought. Blowing before the Death Troopers were ready could give the enemy time to evacuate with command staff intact. Disarray was the goal.

Rexus Wenck

 

[Cormac Thire]

P E N I T E N T
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
SEVENTH FLEET | HAND OF VENGEANCE
HUK | LOW ORBIT
PELLAEON IV-CLASS STAR DESTROYER 'PENITENT'
K I K O
FOCUS | Asha Krataajontû | Damocles | Jalter Volff

"Cobbled together would be the half of it, sir." Pryde stated as the unit readouts and profiles of each enemy vessel read out along the holomap.

"Clone Wars, First Galactic Imperial...relics."

"Relics that still do their job." They might've been outdated on any metric but they still used the proper power cells, propulsion and shielding systems. In short, they hurt just as bad as the TIE/OTx Outlanders or Defiance-class Star Destroyers fresh from Entralla if given the opportunity.

The dark lords rode in force tonight and with the parcelled together battle group, Var Koon would have to decisively cut them down.

The targets set out were being apprehended but with a shifting landscape of the battle came a shift in priorities. The Legate and its armaments still need be brought down but with the swarm of relic fighters bearing down on Var Koon's own he needed to act.

"Gladius one through three advance, provide picket cover for our fighters." A group of Corvus-class Picket Frigates advanced with the command.

"Put a hit on the control bridge of the Legate, we harass their command vessel we have a chance at rattling this disorganized force." Var Koon states.

 

[Rexus Wenck]

Objective II
Tavius Muuaji

The last of the Sith Troopers finally bled out, blood smeared across the chestplate of his uniform. That was the last of them, at least for now. The two Death Troopers stormed toward the command deck. Their brief and bloody dismembering of the Sith marines had left them reenergised and driven. Now they had to reach the objective. Pride would not allow for anything other than complete and utter victory. "I think we're gettin' close boss." Twigg grunted as they passed an empty checkpoint.

"Keep on point," Rexus warned, "No mistakes." Wenck tuned into his comm unit, "Alright, this is Rommulus and Remus. We are closing on target." Rexus then grinned. He could feel it in his bones and hear it. He could hear the staggered steps and panicked pitfalls of those ahead. The bridge crew, filled with fear were in the middle of their evacuation. And as the two Death Troopers rounded the corner, two raised their side arms, only to be gunned down, their bodies sent sprawling into the mass of panicky crew.

"Shut the hell up and sit your arses down!" Twigg roared, his voice near deafening as he fired several rounds into the ceiling, "Next one of youse to move, I will bloody end youse!"

 

[Damocles]

I _ A M _ D A M O C L E S
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
738TH IMPERIAL STARFIGHTER SQUADRON "OUTBREAK"
INSIDIOUS AURORA | HUK ORBIT
TIE/OTX OUTLANDER

Danger.

That was the first instinctual reaction that Damocles felt when his scanners picked up a squadron breaking off to intercept them. He had figured it was only a matter of time before they were noticed amidst the onslaught and an attempt was made to deal with them. The man's grip tightened around the yoke as he waited for his commander to respond to the threat. "Stay on target, fire support will take care of the hostiles." The squadron leader voiced over comms, causing Damocles to tense up.

One thousand meters.

The uglies began pelting them with mostly inaccurate laser blasts, prompting him to divert more power to the shield subsystem so that it regenerated fast enough to compensate for the damage. A lucky shot took down another one of the Imperial TIEs. None of his other wingmates had any visible reaction to the attack, save for the occasional jolt to avoid an incoming shot.

Seven hundred meters.

His scanners showed no meaningful support for them, even as some picket frigates moved forward to harass other squadrons. His mind was screaming at him to act now or his life would be forfeit, a prospect he was not particularly fond of. Although covered by the black gauntlets he wore, his knuckles were turning white and his palms were beginning to perspire as he watched another fighter fall prey to the onslaught.

Four hundred meters.

A burst of concentrated fire surprised one of the TIEs, tearing through its shields and into its starboard stabilizer, causing it to lose control and tumble backwards into a friendly fighter who couldn't move out of the way in time. Damocles' jaw clenched, his teeth grinding against one another as he witnessed this.

One hundred meters.

His resolve snapped as the commander ordered the rest of the squadron to close formation to fill the gaps, unperturbed by the death of the two perfectly useable pilots. He yanked the control rods to the right and broke off from the squadron, his targeting computer immediately snapping to the horde of uglies as it advanced upon them. He fired a burst from his laser cannons, bringing down an ARC-170 and a TIE-Wing behind it.

"Outbreak Sixteen! Return to formation immediately! That is an ord-" His squadron leader went quiet during his reproach, something Damocles paid no heed to as he engaged the hostile fighters in a dogfight. Another burst of laser fire, another enemy sent to the grave. He redirected power from shields into weapons, the capacitor humming angrily as it began to overcharge.

His weapons sliced through the enemies like Alderaanian nerf butter, the pilot manoeuvring until he had gotten behind a flight of ships, his thumbs not leaving the knobs of his yoke until they too had faced the fury of the Empire. The last flight was now in disarray, Damocles chasing them through a small debris field, destroying them with deadly efficiency until he noticed something that made his breath hitch.

These were the remains of TIE fighters, carbon scoring and explosive marks etched onto their solar arrays. Only now did he realize why his squadron leader had gotten cut off despite their relatively short distance.

A high-yield missile had likely wiped out what had been left of his squadron after he had veered off to save their hides from the uglies.

Damocles was alone.

Asha Krataajontû | Var Koon​

 

[Halketh]

R O L L I N G _ W I T H _ T H E _ P U N C H E S
The Vulture

BLUEFOR VIP
[ armor ]
Allies | Dorian Sicarrio Archie Meko Sorrin
Enemies | Haha, everybody else, chief.

Some inkling twitch in the back of The Vulture's mind lent hand in the form of precognition. That's what he did best, arguably, after all. He was a prophet before he was a necromancer and a necromancer before he was a sorcerer. Such was the fickle order of his power. "Speaking of which-" he offered no one else warning, deciding to keep his advantage mostly to himself. His blinded gaze snapped around, helmet swiveling to as the blaster shot smashed into the tree rather than any of the warm bodies it could have clipped, "we have company, lovelies." The Warlord of Carlac hummed, flexing fingers by his sides. Lightning arced between his fingers, manifesting the tension of their squadron in very real energy- which was soon put to rest by the notion of keeping things fair.​

For now.​

As much as he detested those on the opposing team for the sake of the training exercise, it was not his intent to earn genuine ire more than he already had. So instead, he unleashed a wave of Force energy to his flank, pinging his environment for the sake of his vision, and swiftly found cover. Had the initial blaster shot not sent him on high alert, perhaps the whirling attempt by Théodoro to snare him and haul him backward would have born fruit. "On your toes-" He quipped, reaching swiftly to jerk Dorian down by the arm, pulling him to the safety of the crumbling log as well, "-it seems I was mistaken. That first shot was absolutely shameful." He laughed, obviously enjoying this more than anyone had any right to. "That does not mean the second will be, however... come come, we've blasters, let's put them to work."​

Another wave of Force energy was sent in the direction of their enemies with the casting of a plated hand- though when it swept over those of REDFOR it would not deal damage or inflict pain upon them. It was not insidious or malicious in its intent- simply, it was meant to reveal them to the VIP they were all gunning for. Once those figures lit up in his mind's eye, The Vulture whipped around to crouch in partial behind the log- further shrouded by the smoke grenade Archie deployed, and honed on the target who had attempted to capture him outright. The towering Sun Guard with the fancy-pants gauntlet. ​

For a moment The Vulture pondered how practical such a thing might be for a man of his own proclivities. 'Not very,' he decided as he squeezed the trigger, forcing the stock to punch into his shoulder- firing back from behind the veil of smoke.​

 

[Noel Strasza]

P R E D A T O R Y
" D E A D E R "
REDFOR
A HELPING HAND : TASK FORCE 66
ENGAGING : Archie

Ruthless was steel; one of few things in the galaxy to be truly resistant and enduring, always finding some form or shape to fit into to adapt. It could always find use, find purpose, and even more so, could it find a way to survive. Suffice to say about the woman made of it. She had never idled well before, and now with her form being ever tireless and automated, she found the thought of free time even more unbearable. So, she had volunteered for this little training exercise- and did so foaming at the mouth when she had been told who one of the VIPs was.​

Lord Halketh himself.​

There was a special kind of hatred in her augmented heart for that man, the kind borne from admiration ruined by the reveal of one's true colors. She had seen who he was more times than she desired to. And in turn, he had seen her for what she was. She loved to hate him. All the same, as the woman trudged unbothered through the horrendous environment, the only real concern weighing her mind was the effect of the acidic rain on the hull of her frame. She'd been told she was resistant, but... this was the first time such a thing was to be tested. The last thing she wanted was to literally melt in front of soldiers she did not know.​

And that was the truth. She did not know them, and they sure as hell didn't know her. They may have crossed the same battlefields, but never together, and never even remotely on the same objective. She missed the simple days. Maybe that's why she signed up for this.​

No.​

It was probably just to shoot Halketh without getting arrested and tried for treason.​

Yeah.​

That was probably it.​

These things coursed through Strasza's mind as she stalked across the unforgiving planet, ever-hungry on her quest. A starving hound with the promise of fresh meat somewhere, if only they could find it. She held no real opinion of her comrades for this task, save for the expected thoughts on the customization choices of their weapons and armor. Most of them were fine. The tall fucker though, well, she didn't know about him. Whatever. It didn't matter.​

Soon enough, they were on target and where the others wished to engage from a distance, Deader opted to rip out the throat. If BLUFOR was so distracted with her comrades, surely they would be exposed. Such was her thought at least. She vanished from the side of her allies with a droning note, swallowed by the onboard cloaking device built into her system, and rushed through the muck, rifle held at the ready before her. Broadly, Strasza stalked around before taking up new position to both Dorian Sicarrio , Archie , and Halketh's flanks- able to see through the smoke with the adjustment of her optical augmentation. ​

Stealth crackled from her, revealing her form.​

She put Archie in her sights and pulled the trigger, sending a shot through the haze with his name written on it.​

 

[Kolson Vrask]

V A N D A L
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
STORM COMMANDO TASK FORCE 'DARK RIDER'
VANDAL SQUAD
N I C E _ S H O T
ANIMUS SIMULACRUM II | REDFOR
REDFOR | Crik Harend | Théodoro | Noel Strasza
BLUFOR | Halketh | Dorian Sicarrio | Archie | Meko Sorrin

They were in a bad position, Berik put them in a worse one with this tactical blunder. A missed shot, something he'd sworn up and down he'd never have to endure. At the very least, it was in a venue much more forgiving than real and true battle. Here the only thing real was the sweat and exertion. Even if the conflict, the lead, the target, the enemy all a machination of arbitrary war game designations, it still carried a real tension with each passing moment.

The hunt.

<"Damnit."> Crik's wit didn't make it any easier on him as he leaned the rifle against the tree, scanning the position once more only to see it bathed in obscuring smoke from Archie's grenade.

<"What's your clever move Crik? We got em right here but we can't let them slip. We need to wrap around, pop out into the smoke where they're not expecting."> Berik said, cradling the sniper into his arms again before he rushed through the brush, the ghili layer fixed to his camouflaged armor peeling off with each pace as he made his way through the forest, hoping to catch and envelop the group protecting the VIP. The Stygian polymer pressed into the uppermost layer of their Storm Commando armor did the lion's share of the work in concealing them.

Berik at least found himself a good few yards ahead and veering toward the shrouded position just as soon as the smoke began to dissipate, slamming his body into the ground again as he ducked himself into the brush for concealment as the smoke began to dissipate. He peered down the scope of his rifle once more.

Focusing in on Halketh he took a shot past heavy, strained breathes, doubtful now in himself that it'd make purchase. As if the first shot enveloped him in an uncertain energy for each one going forward at least until sundown.

He hoped the rapid change in position would give him at least a slight respite in allowing for a fragment of the element of surprise in this hunt.

 

[Meko Sorrin]

O B J E C T I V E 1
ALLIES / BLUEFOR | Archie | Dorian Sicarrio | Halketh
ENEMIES / REDFOR | Crik Harend | Kolson Vrask | Noel Strasza

​

The smoke was a good cover, for sure.

He was standing at the tree for what seemed like days, no movement, no response, not a damn thing. His shooter must have moved to get a new position, to regain the element of surprise. This time they wouldn't miss, so it was a dangerous shot nonetheless.

As the smoke started to waft away and sightlines cleared, he slowly panned his surroundings. Nothing. New position. Meko gripped his rifle and sprinted past the tree he was on up to the previous firing position of the sniper. As expected, they were gone. Meko took cover behind the tipped over log and looked out of the crude sights of his rifle to slowly scan for trees, leaves, and anything else that looked out of the ordinary. Unfortunately, the swamp made the task of finding this discrepancy difficult as anything could look out of the ordinary. The smoke was still clearing, patches of the haze still remain as the fighting between the opposing parties could be seen more clearly. The VIPs definitely are on their twos trying to dodge capture from REDFOR's operators.

And then, a familiar noise. The sound of a rifle going off. The sniper had struck again. He looked frantically back at the battlefield, looking to where the bolt landed, analyzing what could possibly be the trajectory, anything that could lead to a shooter position. Again, a straight shot into the target, level, and steady. The range could be ridiculously far to really up close, but judging by the last position of the sniper, they could not have gone far. The only logical explanation was that the sniper shot came from the ground. Now, it was time to figure from where. The environment could cloak a well-camoflauged sniper well. Proper camouflage cloaks could turn your average 6-foot soldier into another patch of tall grass and brush. Not to mention the fact they could also be moving again, keeping their shooting location fresh to prevent tracing. He would have to speed up the process if he was to identify and neutralize his shooter.

A line of sweat appeared on Sorrin's forehead, and his eyelids started to fall on their own weight. The fatigue of the exercise was getting to him, he had barely enough energy to continue, let alone possibly fight CQC if he ever caught up with his enemy. He pulled up his helmet only to wipe his eyes. Quickly dragging the helmet back over his head, he tapped the side of his head twice. He looked out towards the chaos in front of him, recalling the information he had gained before. Basically reducing the location to a medium-sized patch of swamp and tall grass, his shooter was most likely in that area. Moving slowly, he walked closer and closer. He was to eventually come upon someone or something. And when he does, a fight will ensue.

It's go mode. Can't slack now.

 

[Tavius Muuaji]

Obj 2

The banging on both of the doors of the engineering deck were all Tavius could hear at this point.

There must've been dozens of hostiles outside, awaiting that chance to murder the sabotage team. On both of the doors sparks were flying inwards, the Sith-Imperial traitors had evidently elected to begin sawing through the doorways, foregoing keeping them intact in the hopes to save their vessel.

Tavius could imagine they'd have to suicide or sent to some re-education centre.

"You three, get back here."

On the door they had come in through a tripwire was being set, rigged to a thermal detonator. Likely to blow a much a much bigger gap in the wall than the door ever would when it opened up.

"Understood Stossjaeger. Shield Gen team and Engineering are standing by."

Just moments before the Death Troopers had sounded off, Tavius got the report from his Shield Gen Room team.

"Heavy casualties. Last one alive. Heavily wounded. I'm not getting out of here." Tavius offered no reassuring words. The man knew the job. Still, he was glad to see the Storm Commando was set on detonating. If there last man died before the Death Troopers finished, Tavius was certain the rest of the explosives set for the shields would detonate as well, just from the sheer amount of ordnance.

Or so he hoped.

Rexus Wenck