Dominion Us And Them | Occupation of Shili | NIO

[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

New Order​

"Are you blind, Captain?!" Sarge's voice cracked through the comms. "CompForce and the rioters are karking each other up. Wanna help out stop the brawl or you just gonna posture, eh?"

I liked Sarge. Man was a grizzly, both in physique and in manners. What I liked about him the most, though, was that he was a compatriot of mine. Archaisian. I knew the minute I heard his bush accent and saw the "Archaisians never die" painted on the side of his helmet. He was a vet of the civil war back home, I was certain; what made him leave the defence force and join the New Imperials?

Never braved to ask him.

 

[Djorn Bline]

S N A K E
71st CF-RECONAISSANCE GROUP "GHOST VIPERS"
COBRA SQUAD
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
T E R R I B L E _ L I E

​

Active Measures.

A beautiful parasite praised by the extremists of COMPNOR, proud of this detailed process with its purpose to ideologically subvert a people to Imperialism. Something that had infiltrated the neutral systems on the frontier between the Galactic Alliance and New Imperial Order. The process had seen success on Ketaris, Yinchorr, and now they would see it blossom on Shili.

Demoralization was seeded into the natives.

Causing them to be destabilized as a people, leading for the capital to be tensed into conflicting ideals between Imperialism and Democracy.

And now they entered to step three: crisis. Crisis into the streets of Corvala, a civil war among the Togruta.

And not too soon the walkers and tanks of the New Imperial Order would march into the streets of Corvala for the fourth step: normalization. Normalizing Shili, silencing any civil unrest between the natives.

But Djorn’s work wasn’t finished here. As the Commissioner for Progress, it was his task to gather and analyze data for Progress to forward to Improvements or ISB. But he’d take matters into his own.

A squad of Vipers from his unit, Cobra Squad, along with other COMPNOR agents accompanied Snake to one of the Savannah tribes of Togruta, more rural than their cousins in Corvala. The members of this tribe, based on their clothing and little of modern technology, gave the impression these men and women knew little of the current events of the Galaxy.

The perfect breeding grounds of one of the most powerful tools to COMPNOR.

Disinformation.

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

I M P E R A T O R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
US AND THEM
NIO | Robogeber | Jaeger Harrsk | Lucien Dooku | Halketh | Tyrell Paxxus
GA | Aerarii Tithe | Reginald Orian | OPEN

In isolation, Shili was of little importance. To the New Imperial Order, the Alliance, to anyone. Of all the worlds within this precious Galaxy to shed blood over, the rolling savannahs to which the Togruta called home was likely not one of them. But Shili in its whole was not any grand objective. It was a piece, a component to a greater plan. Another stepping stone of the New Order's march toward the Core.

The foundation of the schism and subsequent insurrection had been well set into place. The otherwise peaceful Togruta were drawn into civil unrest and a bloody brother war, no doubt under the influence of COMPNOR propaganda missions, false flag operations and other activities of dubious legal grounds.

Now was the time to cash in.

As the New Imperial Order began to prematurely establish its presence on the Togruta home world in order to 'maintain law and order', the Galactic Alliance was there to meet them near the cresting of the final hill.

The delegation that fell beneath the Starbird was an interesting lot and a dubiously effective counter in stature to the New Imperial Order's head of state and other Imperial Assembly here to meet them on even ground.

Tithe immediately stuck out to Tavlar, recalling a brief and awkward interaction in the outskirts of New Kalandra. When the Sith Empire sought to evoke the rise of darkness. Irveric Tavlar was the Major General at the head of a unit that now marched beneath the Iron Sun but was then, a hopeless puppet to the Sith, different only in battlegrounds to Aerarii Tithe.

But they'd seemed to both find their 'redemption', only to be opposite of one another once more.

"That it has, Mister Tithe. I'll admit, these are far better circumstances than I assumed our next meeting would be. Excellent to see you in good health, in a suiting role as well." While the Galactic Alliance might be a state in opposition to the New Imperial Order, it was far superior than allegiance to the Sith Empire, in spades so.

Offering a nod and faint greeting to the other Galactic Alliance delegates, Irveric Tavlar settled himself to begin the talks in earnest.

"Now, to present the situation. Yes, the New Imperial Order's armed forces are planetside on Shili purely in peacekeeping and anti-terror operations. Such at the request of the Shili Sovereign Authority. The only government looking to properly lead the Togruta into prosperity, to be one with the rest of the Galaxy. So I must see why the Galactic Alliance would be so keen on disrupting the efforts to gain and maintain order here." Tavlar states outright, though his voice portrays no bitterness, instead adopting the very same frigid placidity that he always had.

 

[Daros Karmann]

US AND THEM
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
CLOAK_AND_DAGGER
NIO | Robogeber | Jaeger Harrsk | Lucien Dooku | Halketh | Tyrell Paxxus | Irveric Tavlar
GA | Aerarii Tithe | Reginald Orian | OPEN

On the negotiating table was the prospect of peace, but none of the players present had the desire to reach out for it. Instead, both sides wanted to subvert and deceive, unable to be honest with one another. Even against their own best interests, it was far better for them to die slowly, suffocating themselves, than to openly admit their wrong doings.

Daros couldn't understand the mind of the politician or the diplomat, such was he, a humble enforcer of the other man's laws and policies. He could certainly empathize, and to some degree, sympathize the players of the diplomatic mission. And in truth, it was far better for him as a businessman that peace remained untouched- instability created demand, where supply was low.

Anyone with an economics degree can tell you that people want what they don't have. If the people feel insecure, then they want protection. Daros wasn't a miracle worker, but he knew that a blaster was a far greater assurance of safety than any promises a white-collared bureaucrat could give you. To the eyes of the oppressed masses, he and his ilk who avoided the customs officers were the greatest agents of freedom.

He puffed smoke from his cigarette, standing inconspicuously by his supervisor's side. He wore a simple formal black-and-white dress, a little bulky underneath to accommodate for the blaster-proof vest he wore. As security detail for the Imperial delegation (but more precisely, Jaeger Harrsk security), he kept his fangs hidden away. It was unlikely anyone would interfere with the talks, but he had seen the situation in the city a few nights ago. None of the locals were all too happy with Imperial presence, and a few of the more foolhardy ones might do something stupid.

This mission wasn't so much for his superior's protection as much as it was plain faced intelligence gathering. He knew a certain psychologist who would be a better fit for the operation than himself, but they were currently indisposed elsewhere in the far sectors of the galaxy.

They just had to make do with him. He pilfered a wandering glass of bubbly fizz from a passing server and washed away the acrid taste of harsh nicotine from his dry mouth. The job wasn't bad, and in the end was a far cry safer from arming radicals, training local insurgencies or liquidating said radicals.

When the diplomatic delegation finally arrived and the call to enter the conference room was given, he followed suit, flicking the expended cigarette butt into an ash tray. The room was an uncomfortably sterile environment, almost as if meant to separate the whole room from the outside world. If it tried to be intimidating, Daros reckoned the architects and designers succeeded. He remained standing behind his charge, as he wasn't part of the official delegation. But as the lights dimmed and refocused to the standing speaker of their good Admiral Prefsbelt, Daros' intimidating height cast a dark and imposing shadow over Jaeger.

He kept a keen eye on his opposites, the security team of the Galactic Alliance. They, like him, were uncomfortable standing in a room with their own weapons, but unable to use it to win the battle of wits the was ultimately sparking.

Good, he could use not being shot at for a change.

 

[Horace Stolz]

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


"Understood sergeant." Stolz showed no outwards signs of disapproval or malice. He was here to prosecute the objective and that was peacekeeping. Gesturing to his men with a wave of his arm, Stolz took off his helm. Revealing the grizzled features of a haggard man beneath. Eye lids with bags beneath, that seemed endless. A stubble, wispy and scraggly, and hair unkempt for an officer. "Alright ladies, here's the play. Get some of the heavier gunners up on the roofing, give us a recon, and a hardpoint to mow down these pricks if they decide to escalate."

He then clicked his tongue, and gave a nod, "Rest of us, are going in, weapons down. Batons on." Stolz gestured down to his own baton, which hung off his utility belt. "Remember your training. We're not here to bash these poor bastards heads in. But, we do need to make examples of trouble makers."

Stolz then fixed his helm back on, and turned back to the stormtrooper sergeant, "Alrighty then, given this is your op, and my men want to show off a little. We'll act as the forward group. Reckon we have a tour de force," The Stossjaeger advised, "Beat back the men, but only shove the women and kiddlies."

 

[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​

"Now, to present the situation. Yes, the New Imperial Order's armed forces are planetside on Shili purely in peacekeeping and anti-terror operations. Such at the request of the Shili Sovereign Authority. The only government looking to properly lead the Togruta into prosperity, to be one with the rest of the Galaxy. So I must see why the Galactic Alliance would be so keen on disrupting the efforts to gain and maintain order here."

Upon hearing these words , Denzul was the first to respond. The Sovereign Imperator did understand the full importance of Shili probably along with most of the delegates in the Conference Room. To Denzul , the Sovereign Imperator along with most of the delegates had probably failed to see how important Shili was to the Alliance not only in the short-term but in the long-term too. Thus , Denzul was quick to reply and made his statement.

"Sovereign Imperator , you see Shili is a planet that has been traditionally aligned with the Galactic Republic and it's Democratic Successors such as the New Republic and First Galactic Alliance. When your New Imperial Order approached the planet chaos ensued , the same thing having happened on Yinchorri. You see the moment Chancellor Chandra denounced your Imperial Order , you have been quick to respond moving into the Northern Dependencies in order to the gaps between our two nations and i can only assume there are more planets in which the New Imperials plan to secure such as Carida , Raithal , Bilbringi and more all because of their History and Strong ties to Imperialism." Denzul Began with a stern tone. How slowly took his breath and resumed , continuing with the same tone as before.

"Not to mention the fall of Shili to the NIO would potentially give way for a domino effect that could potentially see neighbouring worlds such as Raithal , Carida , Yinchorri and Ord Lithone fall to your New Imperial Order. In addition to all of that , Securing Shili would also cut off our access to the Portion of the Hydian Way held by both the Silver Jedi and Mandalorian Union in which could affect future relations between the Alliance and Mandalorians given that these Mandalorians completely defied your Mandalorian Protectorate that you tried to establish a few months ago."

"While your New Imperial Order sees Shili as irrelevant , to the Alliance , this world is key to stopping the entire eastern portion of the Northern Dependencies from falling into your hands and potential allowing you to spread your influence into the Core Worlds directly. While Imperialism can be beneficial in the short-term for many worlds , providing them with Order , Stability and Security , these motives will only be used by some corrupt , self-serving tyrant to rule with an iron fist thus making your Imperialism Detrimental to these worlds in the long-term as is the nature of Imperialist Regimes. I have spoken"

While Denzul Vosh-Sularen represented a planet that also had strong Imperialist-tendencies , the Constitutional Authority of Byss was more Moderate , having combined elements of both Imperialism and Democracy to create a Populist Elective Monarchy with the Elected Monarch holding power until either he died or resigned. Again this would be something most people both in the Alliance and New Imperial Order would fail to understand since many of their politicians did not understand the concept of Compromise in Denzul Eyes always believing that there was always one side to choose , either Imperialism or Democracy. That was the main flaw of both organizations in his opinion: their failure to compromise.

 

[Auteme]

Lucien Dooku | Aerarii Tithe | Reginald Orian Donavon Arturo | Robogeber Jaeger Harrsk Halketh Irveric Tavlar Daros Karmann ​

All tyranny needs to gain a foothold is for people of good conscience to stay silent.

Everything about this was wrong. It hurt, it made her angry, it was difficult to watch. She didn't even know where to start, but as she sat next to Lucien among those weathered Imperial faces she felt sick to the stomach. She felt small; her eyes fell to the floor as she listened to the opening statements of the mechanical man. She didn't need the Force to hear the condescension and smug satisfaction of the simple lie that had been woven here.

Deep breaths.

It did feel wrong, being on the other side of the room. Opposite to the measly Alliance delegation that had arrived moments ago. While the New Imperial's Imperator had arrived himself, the best the Alliance could send was their newest Senator, an Imperial, and a man of so little note that she could not even recall what his political leanings were. Vosh-Sularen made his admiration of the New Imperial Order apparent immediately. Aerarii was smart and most everyone knew that but he lacked the spine to hold his own and the morals to represent the Alliance properly. As far as she could tell, Arturo was part of the entourage.

Where was the Chancellor? Where was Senator Organa? Where was Senator Taszzn? She would even have settled for Maou as much as she found him despicable. It made her wish she'd stayed on Coruscant instead of coming with Lucien. Now she just blended into his entourage rather than taking a stand against what was happening -- for now, anyways. Today the Imperials had brought an army and their top military officials. The Alliance had sent a delegation with as many vertebra as a jellyfish and barely enough men to move the furniture.

It scared her because in many ways the battle had already been lost. It was no coincidence that the New Imperial Order moved in not long after an imperialist faction had sprung up on Shili. On Shili, home of the Togruta, one of the most pacifist races in the galaxy, known for their unity and togetherness. A people whose fidelity to their beliefs was legendary. Now they were fighting in the streets and being assaulted by stormtroopers. It had COMPNOR written all over it. It was tearing the world apart.

"Say something. Please. You can't let this happen," she pleaded to Lucien. They were being careful -- none among the New Imperial group aside from the Prince of Serenno knew her to be a Jedi or even of the Alliance. It kept her safe. It didn't keep the Togruta safe.

Deep breaths.

Her eyes focused on Aerarii. With a subtle wave of her hand she created a slight breeze in an attempt to draw his attention to her. The other two she didn't know, but if there was any time to cash in what she'd done for Tithe it was now. She brought a finger to her lips, then tapped her ring finger, then her temple. He was distrustful of Force users; it showed in what he carried with him. Asking him to trust her was a bit of a leap. All she could do was hope.

And if not; "Because I'll speak if you don't. And it won't be pretty."

 

[Caeos Prahl]

Prahl // SoM // The Hunt
Trajan Fett

"A varied life? I think I have enough of that...even if it's tradition."
​

<”I wouldn’t enter it’s den, I’d lure it out preferably. Smoke, noise-do we even know it’s in there?”> Caeos turned her head at her name, the crown of her helmet gleaned from the fading light. The girl had slipped down to one knee silently, her attention trailed along the dirt they trod. Her glove spread out across the soil, she had spoken ever so lightly. Her words bordered distracted as her visor spied the tall grasses then around them that so famously covered Shili. <”..I also have a name Trajan. You can use it-you know?”>

She had been cooped up long enough in the forges, traveling to complete her apprenticeship, somewhere in the back of her mind she could hear her mother’s words. There were no dull blades in armory, no untrained warriors either. Her glove traced the lines in the game trail, the girl felt a small sweat break out across her neck; cold. Maybe Caeos would admit it, but she had neglected some duties in favor of others. Caeos rose back up to full height staring at the den, the crack on her screen flickered; useless. Biting her lip she turned her attention to Volker. She had expected a lively hunting party..but she had grown used to the likes of Trajan, a nervous huff escaped her. They were going to have to figure this hunt out for themselves.

<”You know very well about their jaws I hope..right Volker?”> Caeos tested carefully, <“..there are a few prints here in the dirt. My..sensors broken..again.”>

 

[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
​

Tithe did not know him, but he knew Tithe well. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. The ever elusive money man. How many times had the now-Senator escaped death? How much longer till his luck ran out? An interesting persona, nonetheless. One who Harrsk had previously brought up the idea of paperclipping to the New Imperials.

Alas. The smile drifted just slightly more on his scarred face.

Alas, he might be of far greater use in the midst of the Alliance.

Any further introductions ceased abruptly when the Senator of Byss verbally attacked the New Imperial delegation with an artillery fire of assumptions. Jaeger allowed the tirade to continue, envying the man's record time of holding his breath while talking, before he rolled slightly his chair forward from the shadows.

"Senator, throwing assumptions won't help your case." he stated then gestured with his hand. "The people have spoken in favor of the Alignment."

"Isn't that, after all, what democracy is?"

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

 

[Dracken Pryce]

US AND THEM
NIO: Irveric Tavlar Lucien Dooku Robogeber Halketh Tyrell Paxxus
GA: Aerarii Tithe Donavon Arturo Auteme

​

There had been a time when Pryce thought Tavlar was a man of honor and a man who truly wanted the best for his people. That had all changed after Kyber Dark, like a switch had been turned on in the man. Now he was tearing his way across the Mid Rim and the Tingle Arm gobbling up territories and moving in his armies just like the Sith he proclaimed to be better than. And it wasn't just these neutral territories. The stories his men who were still helping quell Sith holdouts in New Imperial Space told of the harsh realities of those worlds taken on the Braxant Run campaign. Absolute marshal law, refugee ships interdicted with entire crews ending up missing. Yinchorri had been a wake-up call for him.

And now he was seeing a near repeat here.

Beside him stood the tall leader of the Republic of Shilli and he could feel the tense air around him, his anger boiling as the talks proceeded. He placed a calming hand on the shoulder of the Togruta and shook his head. They stood to the back of the Alliance delegation. He took a step forward and placed a calming hand on Reginald Orian 's arm.

"Thank you Senator," he leaned in close to whisper in his ear, "Please Senator do not inflame the situation. Do not make promises for these people. Our fleets are stretched as is, we don't need another Yinchorr." His eyes flicked over the NIO delegation and he did his best to hide the glare from the old First Order bot. He'd heard of that man. He'd been the orchestrator of several of the old Galactic Alliance's defeats in the last days of Freedom in the Core Worlds. His eyes shifted and found the young eyes of the Jedi Councilor Auteme and wondered for a moment why she wasn't on their side of the table before realizing who she was with. The ever infamous Lucien Dooku. He didn't bother hiding a sharp look from him. He was a Force wielder. If he wanted to he could just look into the depths of his soul or however that worked and see his feelings anyways. He looked to Tithe, his eyes saying 'This whole Imperial Watch was your idea. Say something.'

 

[Robogeber]

Objective: The Covala Conference
A World of Assassination
Allies: Irveric Tavlar | Lucien Dooku | Halketh | Jaeger Harrsk
Alliance Scum: Shilli Republicans | Dracken Pryce | Reginald Orian | Auteme | Aerarii Tithe

Carlyle quietly waited until Dracken Pryce had chided the Byssian senator, and then interjected. "You call Shilli irrelevant. You deride our claim on this world, and yet, you sit here senator," The Grand Admiral gestured to the Sovereign Imperator, "Opposite the leader of the New Imperial Order. It would be remiss of us to forget that the honourable Chancellor and her very conspicuous absence at these negotiations." Carlyle's mouth turned into a wry smirk, "Clearly, by the presence of such upstanding members of the New Imperial leadership, and the lack of high level leadership amongst your cohorts.... It displays a lack of self-awareness in your case."

"Now," Carlyle continued, giving a polite nod to the Sovereign Imperator, "As it sits, we have enlisted our youth. Our own assets and bodies on the line to enforce a popular mandate on this world, failed by democracy." The Grand Admiral drawled with a most hearty dose of self-satisfaction, "The fact we have mobilised thousands of our troops to defend the populace of this world. To risk our lives to bring back the stability and order necessary for productive civilisation." Carlyle then pause, and teeth sunk into his lower lip, "And yet, here you and your fine representatives come, complaining about us answering a call for aid. The most honourable of actions that can be undertaken."

"The rest of your case if I may, is mere conjecture." The Grand Admiral added with a hint of venom, "All galactic powers are imperial in nature. The Confederacy, the Silver Jedi, and lets not forget you. And your attempt to subjugate the Core worlds and expand your own reach. It is the great game that we all play." Carlyle drily glowered, "So any whining or impotent protest regarding this supposed 'imperialism' should honestly, should not be paid no attention to and ignored." Carlyle finished, and leaned back in his seat, "And if anything, Senator Vosh, if you are the student of history which you claim to be, let me remind you of one thing." Carlyle leaned in and cocked his head slightly to the left, "The last Galactic Alliance thought very similarly to you and your proposed doctrine. They righteously believed in containment of the First Order."

"They tried it. They lost."

 

[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

​

She had the right line of thought at least. Even if she wasn't one of the toughest and most well trained supercommandos of the Sons of Mandalore, she was clever, had a chip on her shoulder. Certainly her 'mother's' daughter. The more he'd gotten to know Beocca, the Prahl matriarch serving now beneath Lyra Voi'kryt's 307th Stormtrooper Legion had taken a liking to Trajan following their meeting at Bastion once it was conquered and subsequent brief yet frequent tenures with one another in Echoy'la. Beocca took comfort in being around those who'd followed the Resol'nare again, took comfort with Trajan who more than needed any sort of warmth. A mutual relationship, as sparingly as they ever were able to delve into it with one another.

As he watched the two managed to construct their game plan of the hunt, he remained silent, attentive but silent. No harm would ever come their way. Volker was his kin and Caeos was a pseudo daughter to him by now.

All the same, this was a vital trial to their development as warriors, as Mandalorians. If this was a challenge they could overcome alone, it'd mean great lengths for the both of them.

<"I think luring it out is the idea...I know what they do but...should be pretty straight forward right?."> He said, reaching down to one of the leather pouches fixed to his belt. In his hand, he produced three flares.

<"This should do good to lure it out, not a lot of noise but its a bright light in a dark space. If its feline, sensitive vision...should agitate and provoke it. After that...well we need to be ready to gun it down. I can toss it pretty far so the distance I'm not too worried.>

<"Then can try and take shots at it until it comes out...then I hit it with my sniper, somewhere in a weak point and that'll be it, take it out."> Volker speaks, all but beaming as he portrays upmost confidence in his plan. Especially to her, to Caeos. He couldn't dare let her down or just as worse, portray incompetence. All the same, he had to at least show the focus on the hunt, which it largely was.

Not on impressing her. Which it...slightly was.

 

[Caeos Prahl]

Prahl // SoM // The Hunt
Trajan Fett

​

The leather creaked as Caeos balled her fists, no retort came from the elder warrior and she could only guess she was off to the right start. The sun was setting and dusk was approaching and she heard the soft steps of Volker's approach and weighed the plan in hand silently. She had stocked up on a handful of last minute reading, whatever the holonet could offer. Though all she could imagine now was the neck breaking snap of the beast and it’s maw, she was nervous but she did well to bury her hands at her sides. She had her two hands and an arsenal of weapons, some days she had to remind herself of that. Her visor settled on Volker and she offered the younger Kurze a curt nod, it was a sound plan. It hadn’t quite answered her question but elaborate plans felt unnecessary for the prey.

<”We are working together,”> Caeos reminded him gently, though she wouldn’t stop him from taking the final shot if he managed so. Her glory lay behind her craft and she couldn’t deny him the honor of a good kill. It would only help him in the circles of the Covert to have claim to such a fine hunt. She was here to help at the very least, or maybe she was being stupid. Heat flooded her face and she added in hastily-realizing she might of begrudged him <”I will be watching your back Volker.”>

She couldn’t help by spy Trajan out of the corner of her eye, Caeos gestured to Volker to set in motion the offense. Her gauntlet dragged along her hip as she upholstered the blaster pistol, reaching up to probe her helm. The screen continued to flicker before the night vision changed across the screen. It had been embarrassing to admit, but every day drew closer to repair it-she knew how but..Caeos’ shoulders sagged, her hands set in a death grip upon the pistol. The plains carried a light breeze with it and she could feel the gentle push of the winds. She didn't feel worthy of it yet.

The flares would get the attention of any big cat surely, but what else would spy the lure? She retreated a few steps, praying silently she did not hit either men with a stray shot, though she berated the thought-she would never. Her mind filed down a list in reassurance, the law of the blaster. Her thumb brushed the safety lock with soft click. She didn't want to make a fool of herself before both Trajan and Volker. Silence reigned and a sudden beeping flooded her ears, from the side of her eye the mounted blaster dropped; activating. The A.I swivled and her brows furrowed together. Adrenaline surged-a low and confused noise was strangled in her throat. Caeos glanced back once over her shoulder, the grass swayed and her blood ran cold as a dark figure descended upon her. A single growl upending the silence as their prey struck first.

 

[Gat Tambor]

Y U N G _ S K A K O
DIRECTOR OF THE TRADE FEDERATION
BYOO | TOGRUTA DOME
Salvor King | Taysonyl Callenid​

---

---

---

Oh this was it right here. The Togruta Dome, baby. Easily one of the most iconic sports venues this side of...well this side of...Shili. However, holocams lined the perimeter of the event at its onset as several hundred Holonet booking circuits and entertainment platforms took in the event. It was a just distraction from a hellish Galaxy, to watch two grown men absolutely clobber eachother in the ring.

Iconic.

Tonight, the main ticket featured two of the best. Well no, it featured THE best, THE CLEANER himself. And Gat Tambor's most prized fighter. In all truth, the lining to this fight was a trial, a competition. To find a new bodyguard. At least while his cloning project of the fallen New Imperial Stormtrooper Adrial Magnus was still in progress.

From his VIP box, he would watch this match eagerly, with macrobinocs at the ready to observe the fluid and immaculate technique of THE KING, zooming in right at the touch of mitts.

Ok, this was gonna be pretty based.

"Ey uhhhh, Director? Who ya think gonna be the winner here?" His trusted Trade Federation caporegime underling in Sopron inquired to him from the seat next to him.

"I would be a fool, an absolute fool to pick against Salvor...five time champion, one of the greatest of all time." Gat replied.

 

[Taysonyl Callenid]

N O _ H O M E
Salvor King | Alex Locke | Gat Tambor
​

Bump. The electricity gave them both a little sting.

The match began; Tay took a few steps back and started to circle. It'd been so long, yet everything flooded back in an instant -- her stance was a balanced orthodox. She bounced on the balls of her feet, kept her mitts raised, stepped to match her opponent. She was ready to get decked. So ready.

Tay took the initiative and advanced. She stayed just out of reach, looking for an opening; unsurprisingly she found none. Her earlier verbal jabs hadn't riled the man up at all. Disappointing, given that she found it so much more fun to fight angry. Like a rabid dog she growled and snarled, weaving side to side in wait.

Of course, there was no warning when she launched herself forward. She might be an 'unknown' in this shockboxing ring but the eagle-eyed viewers could see the killer instinct in her movement. Right as he committed to a step she stepped in closer. It was a wide one -- she'd had to stay further out than she might've liked given the reach advantage. Her 'strategy' was predictable enough, too; the closer in she was the better the fight would be for her. Using her quickness against King's superior size and strength would give her the edge...

Only, he didn't have superior strength.

Sure, he was a beefy guy and had a boxer's athleticism, but most of his matches were probably against opponents who had the same muscle density. The Firrerreo didn't pull her punches.

Of course there was more to shockboxing than strength, but she wanted to give him a little bit of doubt. Her opening punch was a heavy right haymaker aimed for the jaw. She was quick, but an experienced boxer could see it coming a mile away. She wanted him to block. After all, what would it look like if he tried to dodge a punch from a woman a foot smaller than him?

It might look better than getting his guard broken by a single punch from a woman a foot smaller than him. But he didn't know it yet.

 

[Salvor King]

Shili, Corvala
THE TOGRUTADOME
U N S C R I P T E D _ V I O L E N C E
Taysonyl Callenid | Gat Tambor | Alex Locke

---

---

​

King flashed an open mouth grin, sticking his tongue out as he mirrored her circle. Cockily, his arms remained down at his side, swaying along with his stride. His fists only came up as she began to advance. He expected more hesitation, but what fun would that be? Hesitating never got anyone anywhere anyway, definitely not in this sport.

Blue eyes darted towards the coming strike. An opening haymaker? Amateur. His legs braced, and his left arm came up for a block. His right fist clenched, ready for a counter attack, ready to clean this cocky little-

PAIN.

She hit hard. His arm guard crumpled against the side of his head. A jolt shot through his body, and is unpreparedness saw his balance thrown off as he stumbled into the ropes. A collective 'Oh!' sounded across the crowd as King's ass hit the mat. What was she, half-Wookie? The official was delayed in his assessment, just as stunned as everyone else to see King seemingly falter.

King stood, totally undazed thanks only to his arm taking the brunt of the blow. The cocky facial expressions had ceased. He raised his shoulders and extended both elbows to flick his arms down. Sparks droned off his fists as they snapped down and returned to being raised in front of him.

The official gave the okay, resuming the momentary pause in the match after suspicions of a TKO. An intense, violent craving scowl contorted onto his face. Within it, a hint of thrill, exhilaration, and satisfaction. King couldn't recall the last time he was hit like that. Maybe this bout wouldn't be such a disappointment after all.

King feigned a body blow with his right hand. Taking full advantage of the three-strike rule, he then swung his shoulder and hips with a rough torque. He lifted his foot, thrusting it forward at the apex of his spin and sending towards the chin of his opponent. She wasn't going to get one over on him. He was the KING.

 

[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

New Order​

"Just split 'em fethin' apart, Captain. Don't let the black uniforms fool you, COMPNOR are just as thugs as these Togrutans." he stated the facts sourly. The grizzly veteran pulled me in by surprise, his Archaisian accent thickened, "Keep an eye on these boys, see if they make a fool of themselves, eh? We're still the Stormtrooper Corps, huh."

And he shoved me away into the fray.

"So, what the hell's Prefsbelt doing over here?" I heard Sarge ask.

Horace Stolz​

 

[Halketh]

D A W N
ENTER THE VULTURE

The Covala Conference
CAST | Irveric Tavlar Lucien Dooku Jaeger Harrsk Robogeber
Dracken Pryce Reginald Orian Auteme Aerarii Tithe

​

There was something to be said for the discipline it required for The Lord of Ice to remain as silent as he had up until this point. The eonic tact bestowed upon him was truly something to behold at play. He was stoic, unmoving, and unflinching in his chair as his apprentice and personal security shifted behind him, watching closely. She was far more anxious than he ever was, yet she remained as impassive as she was able to. His lessons had served her well. A hand subtly reached out in snap motion, barely moving an inch or two, striking the back of the Warlord.​

Halketh shifted in his seat, sitting up rather than slumping forward with his chin on curled fist as he had been previously. ​

Had he... been sleeping?​

No one could prove it if he had been- such was a perk of being faceless. ​

He really needed to stop staying up so late working in the lab.​

His head swiveled on-axis as the Admiral spoke and it was with some hidden grimace behind his mask that he disagreed. Well, in the delivery perhaps, not so much the sentiments themselves. There was an art to being tact, but there was also something to appreciate in the bluntness the Admiral typically spoke his mind with.​

"Hm." A single note of appraisal warbled in the back of The Vulture's throat as his head turned straight once more, seeming to stare in the direction of the Galactic Alliance's governors. He was a man who always advocated for peace across the table, even though he typically relished in the carnage of the battlefield on the rare occasions he graced it. Death was Death. Blood was blood. It all looked the same to him- grey smudges against a fluctuating backdrop.​

As opposing armies clashed, he knew he would always have the advantage- and by extension, so too would the New Imperial Order. War was the perfect harvesting ground for the expansion of his ravenous forces. He didn't allow this confidence to speak for him, however, not during these sorts of conferences.​

So, just as silent as he had been otherwise, Kezec produced the electrum spheres from his pocket and set them in hovering orbit around his right hand, flexing his fingers slowly to control their slow, contemplative spiral.​

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

I M P E R A T O R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
US AND THEM
NIO | Robogeber | Jaeger Harrsk | Lucien Dooku | Halketh | Tyrell Paxxus
GA | Aerarii Tithe | Reginald Orian | Auteme | Dracken Pryce

Carlyle Rausgeber's sentiment was like music to his ears. Irveric, for a moment, felt as if he didn't have to say anything at all as the former First Order Grand Admiral debased the points made by the Senator of Byss, with Dracken Pryce assailing him not long after. If Irveric was still chained in devotion to the Sith Empire, the man may very well had been his Coreward counterpart. Militarist, proud, competent, humble and traveled origins.

But such were the precarious winds of fate which willed change in this Galaxy.

He took the moment of respite offered by the Prefsbelt Commander to spark a cigar to life, pulling it between his lips with a deep drag of the sweetened herb.

"High Admiral Pryce, perhaps you might be a better delegate on behalf of your country, instead of these elected glad hands. So do tell- our military is well under way in re-establishing law and order, in favor of a state which has the best interests of the Togruta in mind. Yet still, the Alliance sows chaos by offering its backing to the Republic, prolonging this war, prolonging the bloodshed. And I am told the New Imperial Order does not have the interests of the Togruta in mind?" Tavlar retorts.

 

[Ravraa Vyshraal]

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

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

​

The blaster was soon swept away and placed back on the table where it had come from, a shoddy slapped together shelf right next to the front door, as if Zohlees had made it a commonality to answer the door with pistol first. There were wafting smells dancing through the cramped spaced and caving in hallways of the freighter. A spice hung in the air, something rolling on a fire on the verge of burning the ingredients. Gumbo, perhaps? Ravraa’s stomach did a flip at the thought, while it had been ages since he had anything more than MREs and whatever field kitchens were able to put together, the idea of something so rich, so familiar, nearly made him sick. His footing was awkward, the mudlogged boots leaving marks in every stilted step. The freighter was similar to how he remembered it, dedicated nearly entirely to the forward cockpit, little room outside of that besides a parcel of a recreational area. Housing a table, a holoscreen now having long been cracked without desire to repair. The only thing that struck out to Ravraa as a form of entertainment was the whirring of a radio somewhere inside the hulk, blaring out news reports of this and that, front lines and soldier positions, what towns have fallen and which have fought back. It was difficult to figure out what side the announcer was rooting for.

Zohlees, laughing to himself after he peeled away from his son, had waddled his way through the rust and sunlight peering through blaster holes into the kitchen, as if to attend whatever the scent blooming in the air was. Ravraa simply stood there, paces from the door, his helmet weighing his hands down to his lap, the betaplast feeling silly and misplaced in this home. As if it was nothing more than sheets of plastic slapped over a dummy.

“Go on now! Take a seat! Foods almost on!” Came the call from the kitchen, nearly starting Ravraa, as if he had forgotten his place here, that he had even went through the trouble of coming to his father’s house. His old house. He had to glance over for a moment, his muscle memory failing him on the first step, causing him to turn on his heel and move to the table nestled into the far corner of the room. Another bowl was sitting on the rounded table, obviously a few days old from it’s last use, the spoon still sitting inside. It wasn’t foul, the housing wasn’t much worse than it was in it’s prime. The ship had always been small, Zohlees had always forgotten to pick up after himself, and they had always stayed in this wetland when they came back to Shili.

Why did it feel wrong?

He brought himself to sit, the betaplast creaking and bending at odd angles as he shifted into the booth, his chest piece nearly making it impossible for him to get completely inside. His arms awkwardly clinking and grinding against his sides and bends as he sat his elbows on the table. Fingers picking at eachother as his nerves dug deeper and deeper at him. How was his squad, how was Dorn-2? Jeresan? Should he tell dad about him?

“Right, right, right, boy!” In came Zohlees, smile ear to ear. His headdress had long lost it’s shimmer, his clothing was ragged and in need of a wash, and the glint in his eyes struck Ravraa more and more as that of a wildman, the same he had seen in the gunho recruits in basic. He wasn’t different. What was wrong? This was Zohlees, not far from his prime, but instead of the towering hero… here was some sad old man, living in a rundown freighter in the swamp.
The bowl was sloshed in front of Ravraa, a bit of the mixture daring to tip over the edge as Zohlees slammed himself directly next to his son. Upon noticing he forgot himself a spoon, he looked at Rav’s, as if thinking to steal it, before noticing the bowl from a couple days. Reaching out, snapping the used spoon from it’s grave and splashing it into his mix. Shoveling the nearly radioactive smelling gumbo into his mouth, eyes sparkling at his son, who’s hand had only just taken up his own utensil.

“So, Rav, whatcha doin’ a-fightin’ afore those Impies? Eh? ‘Ought was a joke, myself.”

“I don’t really wanna talk about work, pa.”

Zohlees looked his son up and down, chuckling with a mouth full of slop.

“Lookin’ like that? Just got offa shift, eh?”

“I’ve been deployed to Shili, pa.”

There was a pause, no response from Zohlees. Chewing, yes. No response. Dreadful swallow, looking down at his bowl, murmuring about a drink.

“‘Ave you now? Figure you gonna be a-marchin’ to the front ‘fter this, yea?”

“Suppose so.”

“Mhm, war, monster’s business.”

“I thought that once.”

“You sayin’ it ain’t?”

Ravraa just shook his head, bringing a spoonful of gumbo up, taking a swallow.

“There’s too much life in it for that.”