Writing's on the Wall (Ruusan Rebellion: Sith Triumvirate v. Techno Union)

[Catalys Maijora]

Breaching the Structure

Catalys made haste, and without hesitation. The Umbaran's swift stride took him past the venerable firepower provided by one [member="Tyrus Bragus"]; a few bolts of energy came too close for comfort. His armoured hand instinctively gripped at the blaster on his hip. A quick draw, a flash of light, bang one man dead. The poor Union soul didn't know what hit him. Artillery fire was a distraction. Dropships were a distraction. War was... Well; distracting. Some men were made for it, and others were made by it. Two decades with the Primeval, and you forget which one you are.

Sliding the weapon back into its holster, Catalys favoured for a bigger gun. Keeping his eyes drawn on what lied ahead, the agent approached the exterior side entrance away from the fray of battle. A few soldiers sprinted off in the opposite direction. Likely to reinforce the barricades which sat between [member="Darth Carach"] and the compound. Jerking towards the wall, he hid himself from view incase anyone remained in his blindspot. Peeking around the corner proved him wrong, though.

"Weak defenses west side. There's a personnel entrance. It looks like I made it past the guards, but I'm sure there's plenty more inside." He announced over comm link with those planetside. Alerting them of his maneuvers. Taking a deep breath, Catalys rushed out. Holstering his rifle to begin slicing the door. That'd take time... Hopefully there were no interruptions.

[member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Oron Verd"]

 

[Veris Tagge]

Allies: [member="Raziel"] [member="Sinistra"] [member="Gulliver Foyle"] The TU forces The Imperium forces
Enemies: SIthy peeps
Objective:land on the planet and pew pew.
2

Colonel Tagge sat in the command chair of Bahamut going over the final details of his assault. The command walker and its escorting forces would drop and provide support to Director Corsai in her assault. The hyrdolics check was finishing its cycle and the power core was on standby waiting for deployment. The Repulsor assisted insertion was a rollercoaster ride in that Veris did not look forward to. No matter who you were or how tough you thought yourself the turbulent ride down in the Bahamut shook the best to the core. The com channel opened and Greth gave him the green light to begin. He typed in his pass code and hit the initialize button on the massive vehicle. A second voice came over the comms. "Colonel this is drop control, we have sloops moving into position to escort your forces down. Drop time is estimated ad seven minutes as the current angle. Longer of we need to adjust course going in. Just hold tight and try not to pass out." said the voice then it went quiet. The dimly lit command room was silent. the gunners and pilots were strapped into their crash couches and administering drugs to aid with the violent drop through the planets atmospheres. Tagge never used the stimulants and anti-nausia meds. They mad him groggy and he needed as clear a head as possible. His thought were if he vomited on the pilots in front of him they had to clean it up.

The massive walker shook and a loud pop rang through the vehicle like a bell. The repulsors lurched and struggled against the mass of the monster as it was released from the harness in the main hanger of the command destroyer. The Bahamut slowly cleared the ships ventral hanger and moved off toward the planet. Behind it smaller dropships ferrying the support walkers and troops began to drop out of the ship. The assault force would join other elements of the Imperium on the ground and support them. The Bahamut started to shake and vibrate violently as it hit the upper atmosphere of the world. Six more minutes of this, Tagge thought to himself as he fought the nausea creeping up from his stomach. The next few minutes would be tough on the crew but once they were down the adrenaline would kick in and the rush of battle would clear out any residual effects from the drop. The Imperium forces were falling through the sky's of Ruusan enroute to squelch the Siths plans of taking the world.

Spoiler

22nd Heavy Assault Battalion.
Bahamut - AT-HA Walker
* 3 AT-SE Walkers
* 3 HAVw A10 juggernaut -
* 600 assault troops
* 8 AT-TA Walkers
Dual Repeater Cannon Sponsons and Immolator Sponsons
* 8 AT-TA Walkers
Dual Ordinance Sponsons
* 3 HMTa-v2 Long Bow

 

[Haytham Kaze]

Location: Fort Nowhere
Allies: [member="Darth Orcus"] | [member="Dagorn"]
Enemy?: [member="Gulliver Foyle"]

Haytham, or Vanitas rather watched as the shock troopers went to work upon the swoop drivers and whoever else they had brought along. Spotting the blaster bolt as it scorched through the air towards the group below, he watched as a trooper was gunned down and he blinked. It had been quick, too quick for him to see where it came from. Twisting his head around, he spots the tower at the end of the ramparts, blinking as he spots the rather untouched structure and tilting his neck back so that he could see it completely, he already knew what he had to do.

He heard Orcus's voice over his comm, and he moved, drawing his trusty grappling hook off of his belt as he shot it into the overhang that covered the windows, and when he engaged the button, he was pulled upwards and he palmed his lightsabre hilt again, igniting the beam as he somersaulted over the ledge, unexpectedly crashing into the first sniper as he rolled over him. Igniting his lightsabre, he plunged it into the man's throat that he had taken down, before sending his leg out towards the other sniper, the one who had likely taken the shot, allowing the Force to move along with the leg, strengthening the elongation of his body as the foot crashed into his foot and sent him out the window he thought was wise to shoot from.

Rising up to his feet, he patted himself down as he looked about the tower before spotting the closed manhole. Reaching out into the Force, he sought out more beings... Those that weren't with the Triumvirate.

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Location: Fort Nowhere
Allies: [member="Haytham Kaze"] | [member="Dagorn"] | [member="Grundark"] | [member="Tyro Ventari"]
Enemies: [member="Gulliver Foyle"]

"Lord Orcus," static on the line, then, "This is Captain Maldova of the Hasta."

Orcus frowned, raised a flipper to the comm headset. "Captain, this is Orcus."

"An enemy fleet just dropped out of hyperspace. Some of their shuttles broke through. Our scanners are picking up a sizable force heading your location. Optics are showing artillery and what looks to be close to a full regimental complement.'

The Herglic Sith Lord's blubbery brows drew further together and he looked around at his soldiers as they poured through the front entrance of the fort and began to unleash hell on the low lives inside. A score of Herglic shock troopers in beskar power armor. If these were boarding actions he would not have hesitated for a moment, for there were no finer marines to be found. But twenty odd soldiers against an entire regiment?

He blew out an irritated snort through his blowhole. This had been a mop up mission to rid Fort Nowhere of the miscreants. The heavy combat was supposed to be taking place around the Obsidian Compound. This set back Orcus' plans, but fortunately, he still had the forehand vantage.

"Understood Captain, I will relay you with further orders." The cetacean turned to his Trandoshan apprentice. "Dagorn, finish wiping out these criminals. The Union has reinforcements on the way. We'll have to hold the fort."

He opened up a line to the Captain again. "Yes, Captain, Lord Orcus. Get me Tyro Ventari..."

A pause, then....

"Tyro, this is Orcus. Captain Maldova will be sending you a set of coordinates. Tyro, break off any engagements. I want them wiped off the map. Make it surgical."

He closed the line, opened a second one. "[member="Catalys Maijora"], give me their fleet."

Lastly, Orcus tuned to yet another contact. "Grundark, let the Iron Rain. Get down here. Bring the marines."

A commander who commands not the air, commands nothing at all. And he who ignores the heavens will suffer the wrath of thunderbolts, hurled by angry gods.

Current Forces:
x20 Malacath Shock Troopers

 

[Catalys Maijora]

Fleeting

Note: Catalys will be communicating with his NPC fleet commander. I will include both my ground movements and fleet actions in the same post, nicely separated for clarity next time. I was writing as you were, so I didn't see. Sorry [member="Joran Greth"]!

In space the Primeval Fleet continued its steady approach around the planet's gravity well. Whilst the Triumvirate's main forces assaulted the world below, Catalys' detachment remained in rear guard, positioned for defense. On board the Phantasm, the senior offer responded to the approaching fleet of unknown origins. The aggressive warship immediately began its assault course against the vessels. Hungry for war. The Twist of the ship, followed by a forward thruster maneuver allowed for an unorthodox positioning, placing the outskirts of the enemy fleet in primary gun range.

Flashes of red, streaks of white blue, and glare of missile thrust revealed themselves like specs of light. The volley aiming for the enemy fleet. Meanwhile, other ships surrounding it began to converge as well.

After receiving orders from [member="Darth Orcus"], Catalys opened long range channels with his ship. "I trust you've already begun," it wasn't a matter of question.

"Of course," the response was quick.

Spoiler: fleet

5000 meters

x1 Primeval-class
x2 Time Rift-class
x4 Gulandi-class

 

[Ashin Varanin]

Ruusan was a place of gorram power. Just being here, climbing the crags, sent tingles and shakes up Seren's forearms, plastered his shirt to his back. He could just about see the compound over the Valley from here, though he wouldn't be getting close anytime soon. Then again, he wasn't here for the Force nexus. He'd taken a bite out of things like that before and never got the hang of it. Easy power was for soft people. No, when Seren did his thing, when he picked up a spark or a shade, it hurt a little. Just pain, though.

Just pain almost blacked him out as his grip slipped on the sandstone and he hit the ground hard. Rubble crashed down on him, driving a grunt past his lips. After a minute listening to shades gripe in whispers, he shoved his way out.

He stood in a canyon like any other. Ruusan was a craggy, gritty hellhole of a world. He wondered what had brought the Jedi and the Sith here to fight six, seven battles a couple dozen centuries ago. He didn't wonder very hard. The shades had their own ideas, though, and the more that woke up -- they always woke up around him -- the more they yelled with their hoarse far-off voices. He always walked a little too close to the other side for his own comfort, but he'd never had much use for comfort. Not even back fifty years in his other life, and Hellgotha had taken care of what was left.

A shade, a tattered old thing, no more than a memory, got corporeal in a twist of dust and screamed right in his face. Grit painted his goggles. He wiped the lenses with the heel of his hand. "Shut up," he said. "Most of the real ghosts are gone. You're like that old wreck at Bane's tomb, chuckles. You're nothing but a memory that forgot it doesn't exist."

The shade screamed again, in no language he knew, and off it went, back into the dust. It was waiting, though; he could hear it scritching around down there, trying to justify its own existence. Might work, too. Didn't need to be self-aware to have substance or make a mark. Memories could hurt worse than a blade; he'd learned that much in prison, around the second decade in.

 

[Grundark]

Better late then never, or at least that was the excuse Grundark was running through his head as he spun his breaching hammer around absently. The pod was dark, and even though it was built for a herglic it was damn crowded for a Cragmoloid. With dull thumps around him he heard the pods being fired off just as the dropships left their hangers, the two Tallan class cargo cruisers unloading their payloads of war machines and marines unto the planet below. The ships themselves would be away as soon as they were empty, but Grundark had no hand in any of that, it was Darth Orcus' commands' and his men. Well with some reinforcements Grundark had managed to pull up from among the Cragmoloids. Most had joined the main forces headed down to reinforce Darth Orcus' front, but five would land with him in their own pods near his Master.

The release and sudden thrust of his pod were a bit wrenching, the awkward jury rigged belts that were supposed to hold him working, but not comfortably so. The only visual confirmation he had that he'd even been released was a countdown on a small panel letting him know how long till the pod touched down on the planet. This was what he'd been waiting for, the thrill of combat, and an end to waiting in this damned durasteel coffin. His pod would adjust itself slightly to land as close to his Master as could safely be done, and his own five man squad near him. The rest of the transports manpower were Darth Orcus', sixteen dropships filled to the brim with death, and twenty four gunships to back 'em up, enough firepower to solidify any front.

As the countdown entered its last thirty seconds Grundark realized he wasn't breathing, and reaching for the Force soaked up the small lump of fear around him, harnessing it into rage. As the repulsors on the pod kicked in he did however almost lose his lunch barely focusing before the door popped open. Not more then a dozen paces away was his Master, and dutifully Grundark reported as the sound of pods touching down behind him brought a rather wicked grin to him. "You summoned me, Master, and so I have come."

[member="Darth Orcus"]

 

[Sinistra]

Location: The Valley
Allies: [member="Raziel"] | The Imperium | [member="Sal Katarn"] | [member="Veris Tagge"]
Opposition: [member="Darth Carach"] | [member="Catalys Maijora"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Oron Verd"]

Like the striking of a match in a darkened room, the sudden suffusion of sound and force burst into her sensory field. Carach had arrived.

When the dust had settled from the havoc on Coruscant, she had vanished. Files were wiped, everything about her scrubbed from the archives and purged from official records. Those who had crossed her path would know her, but anything else that might have existed on her evaporated in the dawning of the new day. She had not looked back.

Here and now was not the place she would have chosen for a meeting of the minds but fate left them little choice sometimes. The cards were in play now, and she still had a hand and a turn.

Just behind the recognition of his singular signature, she felt the pinnings of fear, creeping dread on the wind and figured the mentalist would be up to his games. She could resist the fear if she put her mind to it, she'd been working on it ever since Lujo. The only way to escape the grip of force insanity and fear were to face those things that terrified her. To push past them. In the interim while her name was forgotten from the galaxy, while she had become a whisper in the winds, she had seasoned herself against those things that would have buckled her before.

"Do any of you know battle meditation? You might want to start it now."

She didn't wait to see if any of them did, their preparations would be their own. She set sights on the Obsidian compound in the valley floor, gauging her jumps to get down. With a few steps, she jumped off the edge of the landing, and took off into the chaos of the incursion. She steeled herself against the inevitable brush with the dread, while leaping from rock to clearing to trail as she descended into the maelstrom.

Where countless times before she would have wrangled her presence in, where stealth was the difference between life and death, this time she unleashed the full force of her power.

[member="Darth Carach"] would know she was here. However, his was not the only familiar aura within her field of perception. [member="Catalys Maijora"]. My, my, what a reunion to be had.

About a hundred yards from the compound, the sorceress halted her advance and began to weave her own spell of Dwomutsiqsa as legions of smoke demons pulled their bodies from the thick shadows cast by the trees. They charged the Sith who had come to breach the compound, inky trails of cold, black wisps dissipating in their wake, their forms morphing to the suit the fears of the invading Sith.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

Location: The Valley
Immediate Objective: The Conjuration Sensation that's Sweeping the Nation
Opposition: [member="Sinistra"] (immediate), [member="Veris Tagge"], [member="Sal Katarn"], [member="Raziel"], The Imperium
Allies: [member="Darth Carach"], [member="Catalys Maijora"], [member="Matsu Xiangu"], [member="Oron Verd"]

Haunted houses were a thing. True spirits, if they had the skill and luck to anchor themselves at all, tended to anchor themselves to locations more than objects. For every Heart of Graush there were ten Temples of Exar Kun. Seren had been the former, but the latter was easier.

Echoes, shades, the memories/impressions of the dead, were far more common -- everything from the leftover malice that tainted the Dagobah cave to the near-corporeal, almost-self-aware spectre at Bane’s tomb. Ruusan had once played host to true spirits, thousands of them, many locked in the Valley of the Jedi. Those spirits had been the source of the Valley’s power. Many more had died here in the preceding battles. Most, nearly all, had dissipated into the Force; that was the way of things. A few had anchored themselves and passed into sleep or Chaos or just faded away eventually; no anchor was permanent. Kun had managed four millennia, but he’d sacrificed a world to do it.

Sleeping, too, were the echoes and shades and impressions, less alive than a true ghost, but ghosts nonetheless. Just as dangerous, just as irritating, just as persistent but just as prone to fade. And yet those plaster-molds of identity, spirits without souls, could harm and confuse as well. Oh, not to the extent of the genuine article -- many mortals had fallen afoul of true, anchored ghosts with centuries to learn the ropes of their new existence. The best an echo-shade could manage was poltergeist activity. Even that, though...Lord Nyax had left an impression of his will on a Force nexus when he died, and massive boulders had levitated to smash his enemies long after his spirit had dissipated or fled. Ghosts, even shades, had power when fully awoken and properly called. They didn’t care whether they were real or just sharp-edged memory with a little corporeality thrown in. They didn’t care whether they were self-aware.

They cared very much, though, that Seren Ordavo walked among them. Battlefields always cared.

“Hear that? Another layer on the cake.”

The veil was thin here, at least to Seren’s mind. All around, in dribs and drabs, for miles, people were starting to die. Ruusan had seen battles aplenty, and some of them recent. Some of the dead left behind true spirits and impression-shades, adding to the frustrated whispers in the back of Seren’s mind.

A new quality entered that metaphysical noise, an eager sort of hush that prickled his scalp. With a grunt, he hopped up a low scree divide and looked down from the crevasse. A compound, a forest...and a brand new army of smoke demons. “Ooh,” he said with a slow smile, as nearby shades chattered. “Been a long time since I tasted that stink. Playtime, boys and girls.”

Motion flickered around him -- legions of shades, some true spirits, others echoes with heft. He crouched on the scree, then slid down into the edge of the woods. A smoke demon came his way; he sidestepped the initial rush and chopped the edge of his hand into the back of its neck. A scream tore through the aether as the construct evaporated. The shades rushed past Seren, taking partial and temporary forms from dirt, stone, broken wood. Smoke demons were designed to kill the corporeal with brutal efficiency and utter terror. Against the empowered shades of Ruusan, the most Force-soaked battleground in history, they were simply peers.

“Gotta love a mook-off.”

 

[Hira Mitsae]

Location: The second moon of Ruusan.
Allies: [member="Dak Canton"]
Objective: Liberate the Listening Post.

Another day, another Sith coalition hiring him to do a job. This time around it was against the decaying Union of Tech. It just showed the diplomatic affairs at work, because a few months ago Elijah wouldn’t have even considered taking this job: one of the few allies the Mandalorians actually valued, what with the tech and money flowing in, but things change.

And the Union wasn’t what it used to be.

So here the Mandalorian was. A tight shuttle amidst four others. Five men inside the shuttle, two of which were mercs like him and two were the more standardized sith troopers of ol’.

“You telling me ya ain’t ever had no bantha beef?” the Devaronian merc asked with a level of astonishment in his tone that suggested someone had just told him that Ruusan was triangle-shaped.

His speaking companion was one of the Gamorreans. Nasty piece of work, that, who couldn’t even speak no Basic.

Just that guttural slang they excreted on a daily basis.

The Devaronian shook his head at the reply he got. One of his horns was poking out of his greasy, black hair - no helmet, just a fragile mask attached to his face, the pointy end almost scrapped against the wall of the ship during that shaking.

“Five minutes until we get to the LZ, ladies. Strap yourself in: we are going in hot.”

One of the pilots. Also standard sith trooper style. They probably didn’t want no mooks piloting their fancy, expensive ships.

Elijah rechecked his rifle one last time. Can’t ever be too careful with your gun.

 

[Caulder Dune]

Location: Olmondo, Abandoned Warehouse
Enemies: [member="Veris Tagge"]

The cultists were both panicking and preparing. Now that Tagge was landing an assault force outside of the city, these lunatics were expecting a battle. From the window Adekos occasionally peaked out of, he could see the cultists running back and forth through the streets. War drums were beating. War drums. How unmistakably primitive. But he was more focused on the voice in his commlink feeding him intelligence. What little munitions were had by the cultists were likely being brought to bear in the direction of the Imperial forces. Primitive artillery were being lined up. The cultists had numbers and they had fanaticism, but any reasonable fighting force would make quick work of them. And as much as Adekos would have liked to see legions of Stormtroopers accompanied by AT-ATs seizing control of the city, the Imperium's presence hadn't been part of the plan. The possibility of them interfering hadn't been part of the plan.

Whatever. All Adekos could hope for now was that the Imperium delayed their attack long enough for him to finish his business here. He really hated improvising.

He turned away from the window, looking at the only other person who had infiltrated the city with him. [member="Aver Brand"] was allegedly good at this whole 'psychopathic mercenary' gimmick. She also looked a lot like someone who had passed up the opportunity to be here on account of 'morals' or something. Oh please. Like letting this den of lunatics remain standing for even an hour longer was a positive moral choice. What kind of mercenary was that much opposed to getting their hands dirty? Especially for little, innocent operations like this one. Really, he couldn't understand it.

"I've just been told there's an assault force gathering outside of the city." He informed her. "And it's... Not one of our own, so now this is going to be a little more difficult."

The Triumvirate didn't have any forces in the immediate area of Olmondo. Or if they did, they were exceedingly well hidden. In either case, it appeared that Adekos would only have his mercenary friend to depend on for the foreseeable future.

"I'm hoping you won't mind the slight inconvenience."

 

[Joran Greth]

Allies: [member="Raziel"] [member="Sinistra"] [member="Gulliver Foyle"] The TU forces The Imperium forces
Enemies: [member="Catalys Maijora"] SIthy peeps
Objective:land on the planet and pew pew.
3

"Sir, Incom..." was all the sensor officer got out before the barrage struck the shields of Overlord. The image of space distorted as the shielding rippled from the incoming fire. Greth stedied himself and shouted to the tactical officer. "Fire all weapons blind. We need to disperse this energy! Just do not hit any of our own ships in the process Lieutenant!" said Greth to the man sitting at the power regulation console. The Molecular shielding was absorbing the energy but the storage capacitor's would soon over charge and be more of a danger to the ship that the incoming fire. As one all of the gunnery crews were orders to fire blind to disipat the energy. A moment later the barrage lessened and Greth could see the three large ship sin the distance.

"OK we expected this, Comms, send general order seven to all commanders then shut down all external comms. have all commanders start the counters on all ships and stick to the protocol." Greth ordered then braced himself for a second barrage from the Primevil. The comm officer transmitted the order and the ships of the 22nd began executing the maneuver Greth had trained into them so many times in the last. Each ships commanders ran a series of maneuvers and operations set to a synchronized counter. at forty-five seconds every ship in the group loaded carbonite missiles into their tubes. At one minute the massed fleet fired off a barage of carbonite missiles on delayed time fuses. The missiles sped off away from the Imperium ship then as one explodes into a could of super cooled carbonate which spread out, forming a cloud of frozen shards of carbonate, between them and the ships.

Greth smiled then watched as the chrono in the upper cornor of the forward display started its second series of count downs. The ships now began to move and change formations opening up the range between them. Greth waited a moment then gave orders. "Take us in flank speed captain"

Summery of actions

Spoiler

Partially disipated incoming fire through molecular shielding
Fired Carbonite defensive cloud between Imperium and Prime fleet
broke formations and began spliting fleet into three squardons
closing on enemy fleet

Fleet

Spoiler

Victory X-class
Hull - 100%
Shielding - 89%
Weapons - 100%
Ardent X-class

Hull - 100%
Shielding - 100%
Weapons - 100%

Ardent X-class

Hull - 100%
Shielding - 80%
Weapons - 100%

Ardent X-class

Hull - 100%
Shielding - 100%
Weapons - 100%

Ardent X-class

Hull - 100%
Shielding - 100%
Weapons - 100%

Kantos-class

Hull - 100%
Shielding - 100%
Weapons - 100%

Kantos-class

Hull - 100%
Shielding - 76%
Weapons - 100%

Kantos-class

Hull - 100%
Shielding - 100%
Weapons - 100%

Kantos-class

Hull - 100%
Shielding - 100%
Weapons - 100%

Vigil Mk IV-class

Hull - 100%
Shielding - 100%
Weapons - 100%

Vigil Mk IV-class

Hull - 100%
Shielding - 100%
Weapons - 100%

Vigil Mk IV-class

Hull - 100%
Shielding - 100%
Weapons - 100%

Vigil Mk IV-class

Hull - 100%
Shielding - 100%
Weapons - 100%

Intersector War Sloop

Hull - 100%
Shielding - 42%
Weapons - 100%

Intersector War Sloop

Hull - 100%
Shielding - 100%
Weapons - 100%

Intersector War Sloop

Hull - 100%
Shielding - 100%
Weapons - 100%

Intersector War Sloop

Hull - 100%
Shielding - 100%
Weapons - 100%

Intersector War Sloop

Hull - 100%
Shielding - 79%
Weapons - 100%

 

[Arage Bao]

Objective: Strategic Advance In The Opposite Direction.
Location: Obsidian Compound, Ruusan.
Allies: [member="Sal Katarn"] | [member="Olivia Durant"]

Officially the Techno Union and the Galactic Alliance were neutral. Unofficially there were understandable tensions: the dismantling of Naboo’s elective monarchy in favor of a more pliable monarch, a general lackluster reaction to the reportedly awful environment sentients worked in and the annihilation of the Vitae, Selectivists all made the Alliance a little bit… uneasy.

But realpolitiks were realpolitiks and the Union was infinitely better than the Sith threat in the Core.

This meant that some form of cooperation had been established. on the downside, of course. The Union was still allied with the Sith for all intents and purposes. But even they could see that the One Sith was becoming slightly bad for business, what will the instability plaguing the horde-barbarian economy.

Who could have guessed that snatching worlds, occupying them and slaughtering any opposition could have a bad effect on the stock prices?

“How are looking, Stevens?”

Naturally all of this also meant that the little SpaceOps squad was in deep, deep bantha poodoo.

Stevens grunted. He was the team’s demolition expert and a man of few words, or perhaps he didn’t like forcers: Cole hadn’t figured that one out yet. But the soft shake of the demo-man’s head let the Jedi know things weren’t looking all that good. Cole suppressed the urge to touch his saber, because it wouldn’t do to show too much worry in front of the squad.

He looked around.

Small room, confined and deeper in the Obsidian Compound than he would like, but at least the walls were relatively thick.

There was one other Jedi in the room. Olivia and him had been assigned to the squad together, but he didn’t know her all too well. Competent, eloquent and not too brash - all good qualities for a Jedi to have, it inspired him with some confidence.

Mostly because Sal did not.

Oh, they were family, alright. Cousins. But the man concerned him, had he been sensitive to the Force? He might have been of the Darkside. One more look was spared to Sal, a nod if he looked back, before Cole met Olivia’s eyes. He gestured towards the door adjacent to a hallway.

“Padawan Durant, join me for a moment, please.”

 

[Enery Deate]

ops wrong account.... lol disreguard

 

[Alkesh Vizsla]

Objective: Avoid dying & stuff.
Location: Obsidian Compound
Allies: [member="Cole Katarn"] | [member="Sal Katarn"]

Once she'd been told that being a Jedi was a hard life. Those from the outside looking in imagined magic or heroes. Objectively, Olivia knew all that and accepted it. But the longer she was at this gig, the more she realized the person who'd dropped that truth had been all too right. She wouldn't trade it for the galaxy. But sometimes she had to pause and wonder in those brief seconds to herself - how did she keep ending up in these situations?

More recently she'd been running with a gang of Padawans, but she must have caught someone's eye to be assigned to this team. It had been an honor and a challenge, but now she wondered if she'd pissed someone off.

She hadn't the time to form too much of an opinion of either of the men, or learned too much beyond their name, rank, and familial connection. It made her feel even more the odd man out, but she had never let that hold her back. And besides, she had bigger things to worry about. Maybe the Sith outside or being something like a sitting duck within.

Upon the sound of her name she focused, following the Knight in to the adjacent hallway. For her part she was effecting an approximation of calm despite feeling the twinge of uncertainty at the task before them. For his, an expression somewhere between grim and determined.

"Yes, sir?"

 

[Veris Tagge]

Allies: [member="Raziel"] [member="Sinistra"] [member="Gulliver Foyle"] The TU forces The Imperium forces
Enemies: SIthy peeps [member="Darth Adekos"] [member="Seren Ordavo"] [member="Haytham Kaze"] [member="Darth Orcus"] [member="Elijah Rekali"]
Objective:land on the planet and pew pew.
4

The breaking assistance thrusters fired on the repulsor sled and Veris' stomach leaped up into his mouth from the sudden decrease in gravitational force. The nearly thirty G breaking action overpowered the inertial compensators and caused Tagge to vomit into the sudden null gravity. a moment later gravity caught up and the could of stomach acid and the remains sandwich Tagge had had for dinner the night before fell to the floor of the command room. Tagge wiped his mouth and cringed at the bitter taste then forced himself to forget about it. Moments later the massive beast that was Bahamut would be delivering death and that would be worth any displeasure or embarrassment he felt now. A pilot in front of him silently wiped vomit from his shoulder then went back to his work. The sled came to a stop seventy five meters off the surface and the legs of Bahamut deployed. The six limbs extended to their full length and the sled released the walker. It feel fifteen meters and landed on the surface with a concussive wave that would have killed anything below it. Around them the rest of the force deployed and began moving into position. Behind him, the three Long Bows began setting up for their first mission. Tagge turned on the radio and gave the order he knew their crews were awaiting. "Lock it down major" said Tagge to the artillery platoons commanding officer. The man on the other end of the comm channel simply said "Will do" Tagge new the crews of the artillery were not the most well behaved and had their own way of doing things but Tagge would need to speak to the major about his comm etiquette.

The three massive Long Bows stabilized their hulls then the massive turrets raised and moved into position. the massive missiles loaded into their launchers cycled their triggers and activated. each of the pods held a heavy carbonite missile in their magazines. The longbows targeting arrays came online the launchers targeted the cloulds above the plated. As one each of the three Longbows fired one fifteen meter missile each into the lower atmosphere of the world. above three flashes of light lit up the sky then dissipated as carbonite froze the water vapor inside the clouds and spread carbonite across the sky over the assault force. Slowly the frozen clouds began to dissipate and break down. Shortly the sky would be filled with snow and solid frozen ice and carbonite creating a roof over the forces Tagge smiled as the flashes lit the sky then turned his attentions to the Bahamut as its reactors came online and the beast prepared for battle. "Get me a targeting solution on that structure ahead of us!" he ordered as the sound of a second set of missile launches rattled the hull of the Bahamut. Today the galaxy would come to know the Imperium. It no longer would hide in the shadows and peer out planning its future. The future of the Imperium was here. It was time it bore its teeth to the eyes of the galaxy and bit the hand of anyone who was foolish enough to reach out to grab it.

 

[Arage Bao]

Objective: Strategic Advance In The Opposite Direction.
Location: Obsidian Compound, Ruusan.
Allies: [member="Sal Katarn"] | [member="Olivia Durant"]

I will never get used to that.

Cole took another look at the room, before closing the door behind them. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the squad, he did. Every single one of them. Even Stevens, even though he was a grouch - the irony of that thought wasn’t entirely lost to him.

But they weren’t Jedi.

There was a weight on their shoulders that they wouldn’t- couldn’t understand, even if they tried.

The regular Joe usually didn’t understand their powers or the Force. It was just mystical mambo jambo and nonsense to them, until they saw them in action and that was when the trouble started.

Expectations would run high.

But you healed that man when his leg was broken, why can’t you save my brother? I saw you jump into the fray of battle on Sullust, you took on how many troopers by yourself? That platoon doesn’t have anyone else, you have to rescue them. Just the other day you were sending back blaster bolts by the dozen with your lightsaber…

Every day, hour, minute and second they were expected to be more than they were.

“How are you feeling?” the Jedi Knight asked while carefully keeping his entire appearance as calm and neutral as possible. Sal and the rest were veterans, bloodied a hundred times over even if they were miscreants.

They knew the stakes.

“Feeling up for it?”

Was there any other choice for her, besides trudging on? Probably not. He tried to give her a smile, put her mind a little bit at ease, but Cole couldn’t help but think that it all came out short, borish and uninspired.

An inspirational figure, indeed.

 

[Gulliver Foyle]

Allies: [member="Raziel"] | [member="Sinistra"] | [member="Veris Tagge"] | Assorted other TU and Imperium Forces
Enemies: [member="Grundark"] | Darth Orcus | Sith Triumvirate
Objective: Fort Nowhere

General officers are oft reputed to be slow, conservative, and cowardly. In the eyes of the common soldier and younger officers, their rank makes them more politician than soldier, more worrier than warrior.

In many cases, the accusation isn't unfair. The galaxy was littered with flag officers more worried about protecting a career than their men, and Gulliver had seen his fair share of them. But that was only part of the picture. The real issue came down to the difference between a tactical mindset and a strategic mindset.

Firefights and battles are often won by bold, decisive risk taking. A squad leader who makes a stand in the right place can turn the course of a battle almost instantly. The margin between victory and defeat is often razor thin, and in that situation, fortune often favors the bold.

Wars, on the other hand, are almost never won in a single decisive stroke. Commit enough forces to a single battle to overwhelm the enemy, and you were almost always leaving yourself open somewhere else. Charging ahead at breakneck pace might catch the enemy off guard temporarily, but advance too far and you risked stretching your supply lines to the breaking point. Or worse, letting a clever commander envelope your forces. To win a war, one had to be ready to play the long game. Victory would come by degrees, and would be measured not just in the outcome of battles, but in a hundred different, seemingly unconnected factors that a general simply had to take into account.

It was a bitter pill to swallow for young officers. Many a lieutenant, full of piss and vinegar, has excelled at the tactical level, only to find the lessons they learned useless as they advanced through ranks. More cautious lieutenants, on the other hand, the ones used to taking their time to be thorough, found that the very traits their peers disdained made them excellent choices for bigger and better commands.

Gulliver straddled the line between the two.

When planning the operation, he had argued vehemently against deploying his troops ahead of the main body of the fleet. Without firm control of the skies, they risked being vulnerable to fire from gunships, or even orbital bombardment. On the other hand, if they could get troops on the ground quickly enough, they could overwhelm any single objective with relative ease.

It was one of those bold, decisive risks that he had so loved as a platoon leader, but had come to distrust later on in life.

Fortunately, they had a plan to mitigate the risk.

As [member="Veris Tagge"] had his forces launch the carbonite missiles, the old mercenary's teeth bared in something that might have been a grin.

The cryogenic cloud was not a perfect solution to the problem. It was, however, the best they would get until the fleet was able to lock up the enemy in orbit.

The premise was simple. The carbonite missiles would create a barrier of supercooled gas between the ships above and the troops below. Once in place, it would almost instantly freeze any atmospheric moisture, creating a thick, heavy cloud barrier. The clouds were heavy and thick, completely cutting off the view from the sky, and likely foiling any attempts at targeting the troops below visually. The pocket of supercooled gas, meanwhile, would soak up IR signatures like a sponge. It would eventually dissipate, but for now, the advancing troops were at least partially protected. The ice particulates also had the added bonus of being able to obscure any radar system capable of mapping the ground with any real sort of resolution. That was the hope, at any rate.

Meanwhile, the troops were maintaining a standard five meters dispersion between themselves as they marched towards the fort. It was standard practice to keep a gap between individual soldiers. The logic was cold and pragmatic: by creating space, one limited the number of casualties any single grenade, bomb, or turbolaser could create. Their formations were also irregularly staggered, so that there was no one line of advance. Rather, it was fuzzy and indistinct, with leaders relying on comms to keep order, rather than rigid formations.

There was a place for every soldier, and every soldier was in their place, but it sure as hell didn't look like it from the outside looking in.

By now, they were starting to approach the three kilometer mark. Mortars would begin setting up any minute now as the assembled forces prepared to assault the fort.

 

[Alkesh Vizsla]

Objective: Strategic Advance In The Opposite Direction
Location: Obsidian Compound
Allies: [member="Cole Katarn"] | [member="Sal Katarn"]

She'd learned pretty quickly not to lie to another Jedi. Not all of the Knights & Masters she'd run in to had the ability to discern feeling and truth, but enough of them had seen through her to make her weary of their third eye. It was easier just to tell the truth - a good life lesson, as it were. So instead of pretending that the task ahead of them was a cakewalk, she offered the sort of smile that someone managed when it was the only thing that could be done.

"I'm feeling...as good as I can, considering? Nervous."

For the most part he radiated calm, but it was the little things that she noticed - too many lines between the brows, a hand close to the saber at his hip at all times. She would never draw attention to it, but it was in her nature to try and defuse it.

"What can I do?"

She was no demolitions expert though she was growing pretty handy with telekinetics - she would have to leave that to the grumpy man back in the room. She was decidedly not as used to situations like this as Cole's cousin and his men seemed to be. But it did her no good to sit and wait, and giving her fellow Jedi something to chew over would hopefully help them both work out of the tension of waiting.

 

[Loray Tares]

Allies: [member="Aver Brand"], [member="Darth Adekos"]
Location: Olmondo
Enemies: -_-
Gear: In bio (just assume he has the stuffs)

What do you feel?

He looked somberly at the helmet, extinguished visor of red and dark red simply staring back. Quiet, deceptive in its thoughtfulness. The armor felt light when compared to such purpose. A purpose of contract and covenant, a deal sealed and formed in concrete where mud once lined his path. It was for the best, a principled fighter even when standing on the precipice of madness. But between the shivering feeling run through the length of his blackened arm and the whispers of relic saber hidden along side it, he felt the cold antiquity ruffle his feathers. Anachronism, reforming himself in the image of the galaxy itself, he now knew the pain he once tormented the other with. Whispers in the dark, mind unraveling, he wouldn't have wagered that this would have been the consequence. With him gone, limiter removed, he stood in awe of how quickly the machine had overheated. There was nothing to hold him back now.

"Hunger."

The ship flew in correspondence with his requests, the madness of his power leaking out from an outstretched hand in stripes and ribbons of black and red. The pilot made attempts to veer out of the way of a stray projectile. At least, that was what he was led to believe. But there was no fun where the flames didn't flicker. Feeling the shock of a blast hit the back engine, he released what control he had to the screams of may day and accusations of sabotage. The seal of the helmet whispered promises of a fight, the sort he was all too happy to endure, as he turned his vision back to the pilot who was scrambling for evacuation supplies. Too bad he would waste his last moments, Loray had discarded them in anticipation of a rocky entrance. But the way he scurried, moving about sniveling, offended the blood thirsty mercenary. Feeling the heat boil over, arm stretched out to clamp throat between vengeful hand. With one squeeze, the silence resumed and the cacophony of the lights blaring and the fuel billowing could once again be appreciated. Picking at the fingers of his suit, he kicked the body once just to make sure, before turning and laughing. Thermal detonator in the engine was as good as anything else.

He flung the cloak over his shoulder, clasping it against the armor. With all the gear he was accustomed, beating stick held in his right hand, he kicked open the back hatch. With the disperser equipped, his presence became something of a neutral air. With no change to its manifestation, he gripped the top bracket as he looked upon the world he was quickly descending towards. For the frayed fabric of air pushing through the vessel now, he had to admit that it was a beautiful sight. The feeling was rejuvenating, the illusion of free fall, as he stepped out from the ship and kicked off. Just moments prior to it crashing into the ground below.

Landing in a pretty sweet roll maneuver, he came to with the ignition of the baton. Of course, he didn't take the time to look at the explosion of the ship, heat and currents rushing past him. Heavy mix of dirt and soot, the usual. Before he could be spotted by some pretty trigger happy cultists running about, he ducked into a darkened alley way to assess his situation.