Dominion Us And Them | Occupation of Shili | NIO

[IMPCOM]

F R I G I D _ D A W N
New Imperial Order vs Galactic Alliance​

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S H I L I
R E Q U I E M

Shili. Once more the Galaxy rapped at the door of a peaceful, quiet land of a humble and friendly people, the Togruta. In the wake of the nebulous conflict on Yinchorr between the Galactic Alliance and New Imperial Order, more and more venues opened for this frigid dawn, a cold war.

Historically, Shili is has been a long time member of the Republic, a democratic state and a supporter of the Jedi Order. Under any traditional alignment, it should indeed be a member world of the Galactic Alliance.

But times change and now the planet has been rendered in two by a bloodied schism among the Togruta, an extremely rare civil war taking place among the Togruta tribes. While some take up the banner of the Shili Sovereign Alignment, wishing for the technological development of Shili from its traditionally simple and tribal climate into a more developed world able to manufacture its own goods and develop its own advanced infrastructure. While the Republic of Shili, the ruling government of Shili wishes for it planet to be unchanged, in the peaceful harmony its existed in for thousands of years.

OBJECTIVE I //: US AND THEM

The Corvala Conference. Both sides of this bloody schism have demanded Galactic intervention, with the Republic of Shili calling on the Galactic Alliance to end this conflict and bring peace to Shili once more. In the same vein, the Shili Sovereign Alignment has called on the New Imperial Order to implement their government as the ruling state of Shili to pave a more prosperous future for the world.

A delegation of the Sovereign Imperator along with several advisors from the Imperial Assembly come to argue for the New Imperial Order's oversight of Shili, to bring this civil war to an end under the Shili Sovereign Alignment and an integration into the New Imperial Order under a newly appointed leader whilst the Galactic Alliance with a delegations of Senators and other influential figures have come to argue the indepedence and the generations of peace and harmony on the planet as it was led by the Republic of Shili, warning the Togruta of what Imperialism may bring for their world as all inference can point to COMPNOR's involvement in the makings of this civil war to begin with.

Here is an opportunity for an escalation of New Imperial and Alliance tensions, or a cooling of relations once more.

OBJECTIVE II //: FIRST TOGRUTA WAR

While the Galactic Alliance and New Imperial Order overtly talk peace in the assembly hall of Corvala, the rest of the world is still in the fires of civil unrest. However, in spite of negotiations, the New Imperial Order has made its military presence known and stubborn, to give the Imperial High Command more leverage in brokering over the future of the world. What's begun is an occupation focused more on sowing peace than reaping the flames of war.

All the while other groups move to attack Republic of Shili outposts and enclaves in the countryside under the overwatch of the New Imperial Starfighter Corps as they move to bring the planet under Imperial influence.

But most tantamount of all, the capital city of Corvala, a Republic of Shili stronghold has broken into civil unrest in protest of the Galactic Alliance and New Imperial Order peace talks. Dispatched to dampen the riots, the New Imperial Order has deployed military assets to restore order to great resistance. Under strict rules of engagement as to not interrupt the peace deals, the NIO marches.

SONS OF MANDALORE //: HUNTER OR PREY

In the outlying villages of Shili, the native Togtura have always conducted a battle of wills, battle of dominance of who is hunter and who is prey with the native Akul. These gargantuan feline beasts have been the forever plague to the agrarian Togruta, wreaking havoc on the local ecosystem, devastating crops and other farm land in their wake, a perpetual, existential issue for them to tangle with.

But the way of the Mandalore is to be hunter or prey and the Sons of Mandalore are not ones to defy the opportunity to slayer a better foe, a superior prey. Guided to one of the dens of the Akul by a local guide, a pack of the Sons of Mandalore and other Mandalorians seeking to prove their worth arrive to the hunting grounds.

OBJECTIVE //: BYOO

Whatever gets you to post, chief.

// SETPIECES //:
> Shili
> Corvala

 

[Salvor King]

BYOO
OPEN
Shili, Corvala
THE TOGRUTADOME

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​

King's music hit. Beneath the sudden pop and roar of the crowd, the PA system could hardly keep up. He could feel their collective clamor rattling in his chest as he walked slowly down the aisle. Pyrotechnics exploded in a menagerie of unnecessary colors, sending a haze of smoke over the venue. A glove hand extended to his side to pass over the fans reaching over the barricade. One after another, the Togrutas and occasional outsiders got to touch their hero.

Salvor seized the middle rope and pulled himself with an exaggerated step onto the apron. He turned to face the crowd, striking a sudden pose and cueing the technicians to fire more pyrotechnics for drastic effect. Slowly his arms lowered as he faded from the pose and slipped through the dura-ropes onto the shockboxing mat within.

King shed his jacket and handed his sunglasses to one of his corner attendants. Turning the knobs on his wrists, he activated the stun batteries within the knuckles. Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, he bounced in anticipation. His hands up in front of him, bouncing and twitching forward in the occasional mock-jab.

This match was set to be an exhibition. Not sanctioned, and not on the record, purely for the ticket sales and media hype. Salvor had heard a rumor that it had been organized to distract from what was 'really going on'. Something about the New Imperials or the Galactic Alliance. This wasn't Salvor's concern, really. And, even if it was, he'd already signed the contract and taken a juicy half-advance before the fight.

The music faded. With a smug intensity, still bouncing and jabbing, Salvor glared down the isle. His opponent was a mystery to himself and everyone else in the Togrutadome. Besides the organizers, that was. Who would come down the ramp? The anticipation was excruciating.

 

[Taysonyl Callenid]

S T A R T
Alex Locke | Salvor King

"You ever shockboxed before?"
​

"It's easy. Just put on the mitts, turn 'em up, and hit the other guy until he's out or the time's out.

"Okay, it's a bit more complicated than that, but you get the gist of it, right? You're smart, you're quick, you'll do fine. Just watch me in the first round and you'll get the deal. And hey, maybe you won't even get to fight." She gave as reassuring a grin she could to her friend. Alex was a tangled ball of nerves as ever, but Tay was ready to have fun.

How long had it been since she'd been in the ring? A year, maybe a little less, but far too long. She practiced a few times. It just wasn't the same. She wanted to get hit, and get hit hard -- something, anything to renew her faith in herself after the embarrassment that was her flying on Yinchorr. So, a little poking around her old haunts and she'd stumbled right into Old Royce. Three shots in and she was on the roster for a fight. Only, she needed a partner.

Royce suggested a few folks but honestly Tay had outgrown that crowd. So she supplied her own tag. Her first choice had been Qell Auraeli of course but she'd had to settle for Locke after an unfortunate food poisoning incident. There was a little bit of deception involved. But there they were, geared up with their shock mitts and rather thin shorts and tops.

Now, they weren't supposed to win the fight -- they probably couldn't anyways, if the guy was actually as good as they said -- but it was time to put on a good show. They were subbing in for some much bigger dudes (see food poisoning incident above) and thus they had big shoes to fill. Tay'd be damned before letting this chance go to waste, though.

While King entered with theatrics and pyrotechnics, the pair from Vanguard were comparatively quaint in terms of budget. Instead when they emerged from the tunnel, Tay sprinted down the ramp and leapt into the ring, rolling and landing on all fours. Like a wild cat she snarled and stalked around, before standing tall like a normal human. She bumped her mitts together; the sparks sent a little tingle down her spine.

This was going to be good. She couldn't wait to be spitting blood.

The crowd reacted as expected -- mixed cheers and boos, a few "poor girl" comments tossed in. She might lose, but there was no way in hell she wouldn't fight.

"They say you're hot shit," she snarled, but that soon mixed with a taunting grin. "You better not lose to me, aye? They'll think you're a fucking poser. I mean, I think you're a fucking poser. You really need all the music and fire? Compensating, maybe? I hope you know how to use those mitts."

Talk big. Hit hard. Time to fight.

 

[Trajan Fett]

S U P E R C O M M A N D O
THE OATHSWORN
SONS OF MANDALORE
HUNTER OR PREY
G R A
Caeos Prahl | OPEN

​

It was the way of the Mandalore. To be hunter or prey. This tradition, this blood wrought dynamic was as old as time. The Mandalorian would and should hunt. No matter the ferocity or dread of the game. The Togruta had long seen themselves made prey in spite of their strong hunting traditions among themselves, a people worthy of respect for their merit on the planes but even so, to the confines they'd restricted themselves to make the hunt a noble game, a respect of their foe, a respect of nature they had found themselves on the losing end.

Something the Mandalorian would never allow for themselves.

Trajan had slain many a beast, though far too often it was the sentient on the other side of his blaster, his blade. He was tested at the very least. There was few between the Sons of Mandalore, the Crusader chapter of the Death Watch or otherwise that doubted his ability on the field, doubted his ability to kill or hunt. This excursion was not for him but for the younger, wayward kin at his flank. Donning his gunmetal and rust red incomplete Beskar'gam, Volker Kurze was eager for the hunt though Trajan could only assume it was due to his counterpart accompanying him in Caeos Prahl .

<"How would you go about it, Trajan?"> Volker asked outright to which Trajan could only offer a huff of amusement initially.

<"Take your best guess...or perhaps Prahl has some wisdom to input."> Trajan suggests, gesturing to Caeos as they waited in hiding outside of the Akul's den.

He wanted these two younger Mandalorians to prove their worth themselves, to compound that confidence in earnest instead of being guided every step of the way by his hand, by his tenured experience.

 

[Robogeber]

Objective: The Covala Conference
A World of Assassination
Allies: Lucien Dooku | Irveric Tavlar | Jaeger Harrsk | Halketh | Tyrell Paxxus | Shilli Patriots
Alliance Scum: Shilli Republicans | Auteme | Aerarii Tithe | Donavon Arturo | Reginald Orian

There was a tension in the room, that Grand Admiral Carlyle Rausgeber found intoxicating. He knew that this, this was a momentous occasion for the New Imperial Order, and to a degree the Galactic Alliance. One that the Grand Admiral intended to capitalise on this by being there for his sovereign, and as such display his loyalty to the cause. Rausgeber stood at the head of a Prefsbelt Command delegation. It was of course a rather spartan group. A stenographer, translator, officer from the Prefsbelt Office of Labour, two unarmed yet combat kitted Stossjaeger and finally, Rausgeber's deputy Admiral Karlist Rax.

Strategically, the former First Imperials took a seat next to the delegation of Sovereign Alignment. A strategic position to anchor Carlyle to the cause, and support them. His beady eyes settled upon those opposite him. They were, an unremarkable lot. None of them were identifiable from a distance. And as such none of them struck him as politically savvy, except for one. Aerarii Tithe. Carlyle always kept tabs on people of great financial influence, and it wad remarkable in his view that this, Tithe, was here. An eyebrow was raised across his features, watching the ex-Sith now Galactic Alliance politico take a seat.

Rausgeber turned to ever grim-faced Rax and leaned into his ear, "Ensure that we keep a tab on Mister Tithe's vessel." The Grand Admiral mused, "I want to make sure we have an ID on its registration and make." Carlyle relaxed in his seat, and looked around, watching the Togruta and off-world negotiators begin to settle themselves in. He was of course in his 'human skin', a holographic facade that expertly mimicked that of a real sentient. The Grand Admiral had taken great care to attire his loadout for the occasion. His complexion was perhaps a little too pale, but worked well with his neatly parted hair. Tying it all together was his nothing if not ostentatious white uniform. Denoting his rank to the outside world. But perhaps with some finality, the Grand Admiral was armed with that wicked condescending smirk.

Satisfied that those having entered were seated, the Grand Admiral took the initiative to stand and speak. "Good afternoon," The Grand Admiral proclaimed, voice strong and confident, "Today before we get into proceedings, I believe it important to acknowledge that we are here on a journey for peace." The warlord proclaimed, "And while we, may have our disagreements over what has occurred. Wounds over this war waged. Bloodlust to be sated. This is a critical step in beginning of the reconciliation and healing process. The fact we are here, certainly displays that." The Grand Admiral set his eyes upon the Galactic Alliance's delegates opposite him, "May we after today, come to a lasting and amicable peace. For all Togruta. And all of Shilli."

 

[Ravraa Vyshraal]

OBJECTIVE //: WHEN YOU COMIN' HOME, SON?

c a t ' s i n t h e c r a d l e

​

The wind buffeted against the blackened plate of his armor. Screaming around the edges as it bled past him and into the marshlands that he was staring into. His back to the endless planes and prairies that had built up to it. Miles from any source of any proper civilization, nothing besides a single worn trail with tread marks grounded through it’s dirt indicating that there was any source of movement from this secluded spot to an actual town. Bare logistics. There was bound to be enough in the swamp that you could live off of the fauna and flora itself, he should know. Get cut on a branch or bit by the wrong beast, rub some chewed up foliage into the wound and splash some muck water inside and you’ll be fine. It worked, oddly enough. Good bacteria, he imagined. His feet were weighed down, protesting against the idea of moving any further. The polished shine nearly refusing to be brought to the state of decay that the marsh would demand of it. The dufflebag in his right hand caught occasionally in the breeze, twisting back and forth in his grip. Slapping against his leg with a jumble of parts and clinking metal from the inside. There was a constant buzzing from the inside of his helmet, the HUD constantly demanding his attention as it cycled through all of the various minor movements that echoed through the bramble and brushwork. As if he hadn’t been born and bred in these lands. The armor was from a different Ravraa, not the Ravraa of the mud and the thickets.

There was a war waging on his homeworld. Between the Republic of Shili and Neo-Imperial Loyalists. He couldn’t even be bothered to ask where this random plot of land sat in the plethora of crisscrossing and contradictory borders. Would it even matter? He couldn’t help but feel as if, in some strange way, he had been the cost of the war. He had been the reason Imperial boots had come to the shores of Shili, why there was now brother and sister slaughtering eachother in tandem just out of earshot. He wondered, would his friends, family be counted among their number? Would Jollerrim be taking up arms, rushing to defend what he called his hearth and home. Would Kavrashiy, the soprano from the village choir, be laying down life and limb for ideology? Was there a purpose to it? It was hard to say.

In another life, he would be fighting the Imperials same as the rest. They were foreigners, hostiles from beyond the pale, another authoritarian power reaching their claws out to surround Shili and drag it into the depths kicking and screaming. He knew the power of the Imperial Order, he knew what they were capable of. Though, he had marched through world after world, hailing himself as the liberator, the conqueror, the hero. Was there a reason it was different now? Was it the fact it was his kin now laying down their souls, taking up blasters, raging against his New Countrymen that shifted the paradigm? The armor felt wrong and contradictory against his skin.

Captain Ravraa Vyshraal, Fireteam Lead for Dorn-2, Legionnaire of the 501st crossed through the edge of the marshlands, his boot sinking into the floor as if it was hardly ever there. The scents of the bog and mire were filtered, processed, and reduced to nothing through the helmet. Denying him the return to home. Through the visor, everything was a gentle shade of blue, betraying the true radiance of the marsh. There was a fog hanging through the lands, as was so common in this region of the wetlands. Pillaring trees of off white bark, topped with sprawling leaves of green, coming back down as if to scoop themselves up, reflected in the murky waters teeming with life. Fish darted away from his feet as they sloshed through the pathway, insects buzzed around the bag as he lifted it above the water. He could hear the chittering of animals, both familiar and strange as he went.

He walked for some time, the water seeping into his boots, his own fault from absentmindedly forgetting to assure the seal. It was familiar, warming. He made his way to what he assumed was the dead center of the swamp, pausing for a moment, before turning on his heel and walking up to a tree. A form of cypress, just as the rest of them were, though, there were three branches that pointed to the opening of the swamp, cut off near the base. Licked with flame. Kept from growing back. He placed a glove hand against the bark, trailing down to what would have been his head level ten years ago. Picking, pulling, before he found purchase. He peeled away a section of bark, sending a large handful into the water. Beneath was an abscess in the wood, chipped away, with an arrow carved into it. Due east.

Five minutes exact, and there it was. Pitched slightly on it’s side, in a clearing in the dead center of the swamp. The frankensteined together freighter that he called home for most of his life. Cracked, the paint having chipped off from the elements ages ago. Grass growing in odd places, waterlogged rust patches daring to give way. It once flew, he knew that much. He ducked between planets in it for years. Now? It was a damned shame to see the girl like this.

​

He approached, taking in the fallen giant. Eyes trailing along her hull before he reached what appeared to be a recently implanted door. A simple twistknob setup.

He hesitated for a moment.

Reaching out, he rapped twice on it, and waited.

He waited. And waited. Nothing.

He knocked again. Nothing.

Reaching down, he took the knob in his hand, turned it, and swung the door open. Stepping inside, he found himself blinded by darkness. The HUD blinking to life again as it attempted to adjust.

“You’ve got ‘bout five seconds ‘afore I blast ‘dat bucket clean off your dome.” And with that familiar voice, came the coughing whirring of the damaged and shoddy blaster pistol that Zohlees had carried on him for eons.

<“You’d really do that, pa?”>

“... Rav…?”

He dropped the bag to the floor, turning to face the shrunken, elderly mirror, before reaching up and twisting the Imperial helmet from his head. A smile scrawled into his face as his father lowered the pistol and threw his hands around his son, causing the man to drop the helmet to the floor.

“My boy’s home. He’s finally home.”

 

[Salvor King]

BYOO
FIGHTERS
Taysonyl Callenid | Alex Locke
SPECATORS
Gat Tambor | OPEN
Shili, Corvala
THE TOGRUTADOME

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​

King exaggerated a confused expression mixed with a cocky smirk. These were his mystery opponents? He couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. He'd competed enough in the Outer Rim Commissions to have been familiar with Intergender matches, but he at the very least thought they'd pick someone recognizable. He craned his around the crowd, making a gesture of his hand out that evoked laughs and shouts from the crowd.

I mean, I think you're a fucking poser. You really need all the music and fire? Compensating, maybe? I hope you know how to use those mitts." ​

King laughed. He pointed at Tay and beckoned the crowd, nodding his head and shouting something indistinct. More jeers and disparaging words were thrown out in the challenger's direction. He glanced at the official and ring announcer, asking something that sounded like 'can you believe this kid?' It was hard to tell beneath the sonic wall of the crowd's clamor. "You know, kid? I'd say join the club, but it'd be pretty lonely!" he shouted so she could hear.

A bell rang once, not to start the match, but to get the attention of the spectators. King could have explained who he was, but it was much more smugly satisfying to let the ring announcer do the talking for him.

"Lllllladies and gentlemen, good evening to you. We welcome you to the fabulous Togrutadome here in beautiful Corvala, Shili!" The Togrutan announcer began, his pleasing voice booming across the stadium. "The Expansion Region Shockboxing Commission is proud to present our premier exhibition of the evening. Brought to you by; The Trade Federation; 5% Magnus Nutrition, Pains and Gains; AvCorp, Only the best; and the Technoid Manufactorum, Raw power. This bout is sanctioned by the ERSC, President Clim Shleetus, and organized by Gat Tambor. Introducing our judges at ringside; Darren Pickelsby, Richard Inman, and David Starrunner. Aaaand here we go ladies and gentlemen, the bout you've all been waiting for; Ten rounds of shooooockboxiiiiing!"

The crowd roared. King continued bouncing from foot to foot. "This bout is a two on one haaaaandicap match! Introducing first, the challengers. From the Coruscanti underground rings, standing at 5'2 and 5'7 respectively at a combined weight of two hundred sixty-two pounds. Doubuhbuhbuhbuhle Trooooouuuuuuuuuble." To say the crowds reaction was mixed would be generous. Plenty of people wanted to root for the underdogs, but most of them just wanted to see THE KING in action.

"Aaaand their opponent-" The crowd began to cheer. "From Coronet City, Corellia. He is a THREE TIME Coruscant Intergalactic Shockboxing Champion, a two time OREB champion, the only gaijin competitor to ever hold the Atrisian Boxing World Championship, Ryveting Content's Athlete of the Yeeeeear in 860 ABY, and Sports Holostrated's proclaimed FACE OF SHOCK BOXING, 6'1 and two hundred thirty-four pounds. With an all-time record of seventy-four wins and six losses, he is, SALVOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOR "THE CLEANERRRRRRRRRR" KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!"

The crowd erupted.

The Five-Time champion, a poser? King scoffed.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, LET'S GET READY TO RUUUUUUUUUUUUUMBLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLE!"

At the ring official's direction, King stepped forward. He stared his two opponents down as the rules were explained to them. Outer Ring Commission rules. Three warnings before a disqualification. Kicks below the waist. Clinches are punch-out only. This was going to be quick. "Touch mitts," the official instructed.

King held out an electrified fist.

 

[Jaeger Harrsk]

C O M P N O R
Objective I
O P E R A T I O N _ П Е Р Е С Т Р О Й К А
​

Jaeger's presence in the talks of Shili was merely a formality. His job on Shili had already been complete and had directly led to these diplomatic talks between the Alliace and the Imperial Order. Operation Перестройка (Perestroyka, meaning restructuring) was the encompassing Active Measures operation dedicated to spreading Imperialization across frontier worlds between the Starbird and the Iron Sun. A massive misinformation campaign with distinct specifics for each world it targeted and in addition some funding to the armament of the born pro-Imperial organizations on these worlds.

In the 4-step programme of active measures by COMPNOR, Shili was stepping into the third one - Crisis. The demoralization and destabilization of the world had occurred far faster than initially expected after they had barely prevailed large obstacles in their way.

If bloodshed could be avoided and a more peaceful transition to an Imperial alignment possible, it lied in the hands of both delegations today.

NIO: Lucien Dooku | Irveric Tavlar | Robogeber | Halketh | Tyrell Paxxus | Sovereign Alignment
GA: Auteme | Aerarii Tithe | Donavon Arturo | Reginald Orian | Republic of Shili

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

LOCATION: Conference Room, Shili
OBJECTIVE: Us and Them
GA: Auteme | Donavon Arturo | Reginald Orian
NIO: Irveric Tavlar | Lucien Dooku | Jaeger Harrsk | Robogeber | Halketh | Tyrell Paxxus
KIT: Lesser Ring of the Protected Mind | Visions of Gold | Attire (plus concealed blast vest)
POST: I

With a loud hiss and a billow of steam, the boarding ramp on the recently landed Galactic Alliance diplomatic shuttle cracked open and slowly descended into place. Two trios of Senate guards moved down the ramp in silence to stage a guard of honour for the delegation about the disembark the shuttle. While the guards were attired in their traditional ceremonial garb, their eyes betrayed their training and experience as veteran close protection specialists, more accustomed to protecting military commanders on hostile worlds than escorting Senators.

Indeed, there was very much a chance that the neutral world of Shili could become hostile without warning. If things started going to wrong way, the guards had orders to extract the Senators, even against their will. Tensions were too high to allow high-value prisoners to be added to the smoulder powder keg which sat between the GA and the New Imperial Order.

Senator Tithe of Aargau was the first down the ramp, his typically garish outfit concealing a slim fitting blast vest. While the NIO had invited them here under the guise of peaceful negotiations between loyal partners, Tithe had his suspicions that the NIO was closely linked to the growing Imperialist threat. He was slowly gathering and piecing together evidence ahead in preparation for a special Senate committee. Today could reveal the final information he needed to mount his case.

Of course, the NIO would not incriminate themselves. First, the two parties had business to attend to.

“Ah, Grand Admiral, yes yes. My thanks for the most gracious invite, we, ahh, yes, much to discuss, much to discuss. But first, introductions!” The Senator offered a curt bow to the NIO delegation as he entered the room. The accompanying Senate guards moved in behind him, silently taking up positions where they could watch their NIO counterparts.

Aerarii looked to the other members of the NIO contingent. “Why, General Tavlar - the Imperator. It’s been a, ah, an age, yes an age, since our paths crossed.” He cast across the other NIO representatives, including a stolic looking gentlemen who like Tithe also wore spectacles. “I, ah, well, a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he announced. “Yes, I look forward to working with all of you on this most pressing of business.”

“And let me present my, ah, most esteemed colleagues.” Tithe motioned to the accompanying Senators for them to introduce themselves before taking a seat.

“Now, shall we begin?”

 

[Reginald Orian]

Location | Shili
Objective | Us and Them [Corvala Peace Accords]
Tags [GA] | Aerarii Tithe | Auteme | Donavon Arturo
Tags [NIO] | Robogeber | Jaeger Harrsk | Lucien Dooku | Halketh | Irveric Tavlar ​

Senator Vosh of Byss entered the Conference room accompanied by High Commissioner Yuri Orlov , one of his subordinates , a member of Byss' Political Elite and a former Core Imperial Politician. Given Byss' Militaristic and Pro-Imperialist Stance , many of it's Military Officers and Politicians usually wore Imperial Uniforms , an attire that was currently worn by Senator Vosh and High Commissioner Orlov as they entered the room. While his Planet was Pro-Imperialistic , Denzul and his Younger Cousin [The Lord-Imperator of Byss] had begun to take steps to isolate Byss in order to protect the planet's traditional values and to avoid any issues with the Alliance , though both of them knew that they would have to pick sides as per the brutal nature of this Cold War.

While Denzul was officially here for diplomatic purposes he was in reality here with more sinister motives. Unrest was spreading throughout the Republic of Shili according to the Politorate , a private intelligence agency utilized by Denzul's Cousin to advance his agenda. Already Marlon and his right-hand man Ex-Core Imperial Warlord , Dorian Sevanar had begun to make plans to carry out their own operation while both the Alliance and New Imperials were occupied with each other here on Shili. Their Plan? Disrupt the Talks and Escalate Tensions between the Alliance and New Imperials though how they intended to do so remained a mystery to the Senator of Byss who had always been wary of the plans and actions of his Younger Cousin.

As Senator Vosh sat down along with High Commissioner Orlov sitting down alongside Senator Tithe of Aaragu and the Rest of the Alliance Delegation , Denzul introduced himself to the New Imperials. "Thank you for the introduction , Senator Tithe. I am Denzul Vosh-Sularen , Senator of Byss and here with me is my trusty Subordinate Yuri Orlov , it's an honor to met members of a Government that has long aligned with the very ideals my people stand for since Day 1. I am looking forward to collaborate with you all on finding an acceptable solution to the Crisis on Shili" he then exchanged glances with Senator Tithe upon finishing. The man was the Head of the Committee on Foreign Influence and had spoken out against Imperialism on the Homefront talking about focusing on preventing Imperials from taking root in the Alliance when it was already heavily present on Byss.

Such was an issue for Senator Vosh who needed to ensure that his planet needed to remain out of harms way. Luckily he'd already made plans to discuss with both Jaeger Harrisk and Adhira Chandra to ensure that Byss could remain as a neutral and isolationist Imperial World to avoid the Cold War from coming to Byss , something that would destroy the very law and order that the Lord-Imperator had established upon ascending the Throne of Byss. And so Denzul watched on as other Senators and New Imperial Officials would present themselves waiting for his Fellow Alliance Senators to take the led in beginning the talks between the New Imperials and Alliance

 

[Jorus Fel]

8 T H _ A I R B O R N E
Objective II
F I R S T _ T O G R U T A _ W A R
B A N D I T _ F I G H T I N G

One of the Few​

We came back from patrol at about 14 local time. A convoy of three 'pulsors. Not much to report, really, just people going on about with their works. A lot of frowning faces, a few welcoming faces, one young Togrutan giving me the Imperator's three finger salute and a dozen others flipping me the finger. Made you doubt the whole thing; how many really wanted the change? I haven't got no clue but I know my people's history. Archais. A world where we, the minority, ruled far better than the majority ever could or would. Surely this was the case here on Shili, where the dry savannahs and the high plateaus reminded me so woefully of home.

The uneventfulness of the patrol drastically changed the moment we entered back Corvala, the capital. Protests and riots were raging, local law enforcement aided by CompForce units were doing their best to pacify and diffuse the situation but it seemed to no avail. Our ride halted to a stop on the main boulevard where a line of protestors had formed to block our advance.

"Trigger discipline, boys." Sarge said through the comms. I looked down and saw my finger had instinctively gone to the trigger. An ominous foretelling.

"FETH YOU, FASCIST!" I turned to look at the scream piercing through the cacophony of the mob. A Togrutan female had gone up to a CompForce trooper's face. She did not react.

A few seconds later, "FETH YOU, FASCIST!"

Another repeat followed a second later, then a spit at the trooper's face. She yanked the protester off the line and tossed her back behind CompForce's own line. Half a dozen black uniforms piled over her and I could not discern what happened. I just heard a lot of smacking before my attention shifted to the mob's line that crashed into CompForce.

CompForce did not hold back.

Sarge called us, boys in white, out of the 'lifts to try and diffuse the mass brawl that had ensued.

What a mess.

 

[Horace Stolz]

Objective II
5th Stossgrenadier Brigade
N E W_O R D E R
Alliierte: Hayek

It was time for them to earn their keep in the New Imperial Order. Time to show these new upstarts what strength the old men still had. The average age of the 5th Stossgrenadier's was 33, with about 7 years combat service. And now they were out to assist, in the first major joint-force operations undertaken. An entire Brigade, dispatched as a reinforcing force to aid the New Imperials, COMPNOR and local future loyalists of the regime. Upon hearing that the 8th Airborne had been assailed by local banditry, suspected of being aligned with these supposed Republican, the 5th had been called up. Dispatched from the bowels of a Star Destroyer, to the surface.

The Stossjaegers descended from the heavens in their Atmospheric Assault Landers, dispatching themselves behind the perimeter created by the 8th Airborne. As soon as the airlocks unsealed, the Stossjaeger stormed forth, rifles raised. Leading the charge, with a bright orange pauldron, Captain TL-5831, Stolz, Horace. The Stossjaeger pressed themselves into the village, moving to secure the flanks and reinforce the beleaguered COMPNOR elements within the settlement.

"Attention," Stolz gruffly barked over his comm unit, "To any officers in the vicinity. This is 3rd Platoon, 5th Stossgrenadiers." Stolz announced with some pride, but the same brittle demeanour. "We have been dispatched to reinforce your operations in the vicinity." Horace growled, "Give us a SITREP, and we'll support and aid whatever action you take."

 

[Sinestra]

O B J E C T I V E _ I I
downtime, banditfighting, downtime
a _ f a v o r _ f o r _ a _ f a v o r
​

Arno Lettow adjusted his riot gear taking his sweet time after an exhausting session at the Come Right Inn. Shili cheap for a soldier's pay even. Bastion? The aggregate demand due to the war kicked the prices up the skies. Not a bang for your buck.

Downtime was over. Back to banditfighting.

"If it's this cheap - I'd like to keep it not Imperial." Arno mentioned to Tavius Muuaji getting ready next to him. He lit up a cigarette, took a deep smoke straight to the gut and added, "You ready?"

 

[Tavius Muuaji]

OBJ 2

After Corellia and getting sent to Shili, Tavius needed a break. Especially after Ithor's drug and spice talk.

He wouldn't admit it, not to any of the New Imperials, but it was stressful. Failure? Meant replacement likely. Would there be a chance of making it up? He didn't know, and although he hadn't been the most busy of operatives in the New Imperials employ, it was vastly different from his career in the One Sith military.

Tugging up a suspender over his shoulder, he snorts at Sinestra words. He was a crass but simple man, he thought. Right he was though.

Without even realizing it, he touched his head and felt the unfinished joint that had been tucked behind his ear. "Oh shit..." He mutters to himself in surprise. "Huh? Oh. Yeah. Riot duty, yeah?"

 

[Sinestra]

O B J E C T I V E _ I I
downtime, banditfighting, downtime
c o u n t _ t h e _ s l u g s
​

Never a judgmental character, except for anti-Imperials which Arno would personally drag to a labor camp, the smell of joint did roll his guts. Muuaji, the Storm Commando, had mentioned everybody back at his homeplanet of Nar Chir'raq smoked that shit. He'd puke slicing every degenerate throat.

"Trouble on sixth street." the comms bothered the two.

They gave it a minute. No more chatter. Arno pursed his lips, irritation fuming.

"Five-oh, we're taking this." he squashed the cigarette with the sole of his foot and headed north. "Heads waiting to be cracked. Let's go."

Tavius Muuaji

 

[Tavius Muuaji]

OBJ 2

Before their conversation could continue, orders were issued like clockwork as soon as their downtime ended.

A longing gaze was dropped to the joint and then to the helmet at his feet and he flicked the joint away, its scent still on him, but as soon as that helmet came down and hermetically sealed, at the steps of the Come Right Inn would be the last trace of it on him. That is, until he took the helmet off.

Reaching to his waist to remove the stun baton, he triggered its activation and the stun prods extended outwards in a bright flash and he gave an up nod to Sinestra . "Lead the way." And they'd be off.

 

[Sinestra]

O B J E C T I V E _ I I
downtime, banditfighting, downtime
h o o d _ m e n t a l i t y
​

Sixth street was a hell of rioters and looters. No security, except for the two newcomers. Chaos ceased as the men in black walked down the street. Eerie silence, all eyez on them. Complexes erupting from the core of these weak-willed Togrutan bastards. Test so low they'd melt from the heat these two were packing.

But they were just two.

Hyena mentality got 'em thinking. Slow process, brain cells cannibalized from a life in mom's basement.

Took a while.

Then the pack of degenerates jumped them.

Stun baton didn't stutter.

Tavius Muuaji

 

[Tavius Muuaji]

Obj 2

There was something eerie about the street.

On their way there it had been loud, rowdy, reckless destruction.

When the two COMPNOR Operatives got the street, they were greeted with dead silence. Unsettling. Tavius didn't like it. And after exchanging glances with Sinestra the Togruan rioters attacked them like a swarm from every direction.

Their armour would protect them for quite some time, but Tavius picked up the flash bang off of his hip and triggered it.

When the wave of the rioters jumped them, the flash bang went off and Tavius shot his eyes, knocked to the ground by the stumbling of the Togrutas rushing the duo.

 

[Sinestra]

O B J E C T I V E _ I I
downtime, banditfighting, downtime
g o _ t o _ c h u r c h
​

Left, right, up and down. The hyenas were coming from every direction. Punches, kicks, televisions, stalls - everything was unleashed upon the duo. But these two were the shortest straw these karkers could draw from all imperials on the world.

Flash out. Visor saved his eyes, helmet almost saved his hearing. Arno staggered backwards from the noise rattling his balance.

The swarm dispersed and he pulled Tavius back on his feet. He slapped the fallen stun baton to the man's chest.

"Our turn now."

Dazed and confused. Hit 'em at their worst.


Tavius Muuaji

 

[Tavius Muuaji]

OBJ 2
SHILI_MOST_WANTED

The duraplast crushgaunts swung delivering shots across the back and sides of the ribs of the togruta that had tackled him down. After their body had started to weight heavily on him, he knew they were an unconscious and bloody mess and he shoved it off of him.

Just in time with Sinestra pulling him up to his feet.

Muted thanks were given when he took the stun baton back, and he terminator walked into the alleyway where numerous of them disappeared down.

The only sound that could be heard were the screams, wet bludgeoning of his stun baton and its screech as it made contact.