Log:Sith: The Empress Strikes Back
Sith: The Empress Strikes Back
OOC Date: January 11 2024
Location: Malidris City - Iridonia
Participants: Tamsin Cas, Aryn Cortess and Kol Goren, Sith Empire
No show of descending landing craft. No descending pods nor other means of inspiring terror from the skies employed. The Empress's anger was razor keen, a blade poised to pass ribs and into the heart.
When it began, Imperial APCs had thundered down the streets to the industrial park that had been identified, where an underground parking structure had been reinforced. Over how long was irrelevant. But spy droids and deep scans showed fortifications of duracrete poured between structural pillars to reinforce them. Durasteel plates fixed to shore up walls that hadn't been thickened. So the only way in, that was known, was the surface.
"They will have tunnels, like womp rats. Expect them. Locate them and send the seekers." words from Kessa herself.
The first volley had been the rebels, manpack torpedo throwers that turned the spearhead vehicle into a tomb now laying shoved aside by craft behind it. Bodies were splayed in the open grounds where vehicles could not pass, Imperial Army clearing the way for the elite to come. Fodder to show the limitless numbers.
Anti-Armor weapon use was higher than anticipated, save by all but The Empress who seemed satisfied by the reports of their use, the numbers lost in vehicles and walker units. Unphased by the casualty reports of Imperial Soldiers.
Now two more transports, traveling on repulsor with their walker legs retracted and ATV treads clean of Iridonia's dirt, were on approach. Both with their armor plates dyed bloody crimson and the sigil of the Empire and Empress herself emblazoned on their fore. The mailed fist and within it, specialists with support in the air in proximity.
Whatever death and destruction lay without of their armored vehicle in which Achlys travelled had no effect on the robed figure within. Perhaps it was the result of more years than one cared to imagine in the midst of such destruction, perhaps a simple reflection of the lack of care exhibited by the Darth. Perhaps a bit of both with other reasons beyond even those. In any regard, Achlys sat still, silent, faceless behind their mask, senses travelling out beyond the metal confines, mapping the signatures of life still crawling along the land, and perhaps within it, mapping, in their own way, the foe to be met once they had arrived at their destination.
Settled in a bucket seat intended for another troop is Darth Kalus, one leg crossed over the other, booted foot rocking idly as they moved along. Her thoughts lay elsewhere, beyond the conflict, with her eyes resting upon the screen of her datapad reading about recent news stories in other parts of the galaxy. Like Achlys, her face is hidden.
Closing in on the site, the lead transport swaps to treads as terrain and anti-repulsor traps are neared, passage slowing as the one holding the Sith Masters follows suit. Cannon fire continues and both vehicles shake as shield systems absorb explosive impacts while the multi-legged vehicles near.
Rotary lasers mounted on the sides of the walkers engage,scything fire to clear routes before the first drop ramp is down and crimson armored troopers descend. Lockstepped, formation precise until on the ground and the disbursal orders begin coming down the line. Shield carrying vanguard becoming mobile cover as this new attack draws the rebels out like stingers from a jostled hive.
Red lights go on above the Sith and troopers stand, jogging to the fore behind more shield bearers and the ramp drops like a tombstone into the screams of plasma fire and the roar of ordnance - with a mere ten meters between them and the entry of the rebel base.
With the armor-clad troopers arraying around themselves, Achlys proceeded at an even pace towards what had been identified as the main entry to the rebel base. There was no fire of their lightsaber, only that steady, exorable step by step on approach. What noise their boots made on the battle worn ground was lost. Not so, the words that were sent out along the communication lines between the Sith and the troopers. Locations were highlighted, places where the rebels lay in wait, warrens, of a sort, to be cleared of vermin. 'There is a cluster of bodies just beyond the doors. They appear to be in waiting for our arrival. I expect they are using the fire from other segments of the base to hide their presence at the point of entry."
Aryn falls in step behind Darth Achlys, happy to follow along without a comment. Their command of the force was intuitive enough to alert their honor guard to the potential threat that lay in wait. Rather than fret over safety, Aryn simply disembarked at a casual pace, walking with the shield vanguard as they forged a path before them, clearing the way and protecting them from harm. It was only a matter of time before the Rebellion's hold on this world was ripped out, root and stem.
As both of the Sith begin to disembark, DT-X10 is there to accompany them. The E-11 that the Death Trooper marches with is kept at a high ready, prepared to be deployed at any moment. The commando also carries a number of grenades and other accessories, suited to the subterranean mission. He does not speak unless addressed or otherwise in possession of some information of tactical or strategic importance. Amidst the blaster fire and chaos, DT-X10 remains near his assigned target: Darth Achlys.
<<"Understood, Lord.">> a chorus of such responses moving down the line as Stormtroopers move, shield-bearers opting to maintain two-handed grips of the portable deflector screens rather than risk injury while firing around edges or opening 'gun ports' that would provide targeting points for snipers. They wheel as a unit, the troopers with blasters out leaning from cover to take their shots. Providing covering fire for the troopers further back to bring out tri-pod mounted mobile artillery.
Senses giving them away, the figures hunkered in the quiet mouth of the bunker keep down for the moment, some of them even revealed by senses among the dead that lay in the tumbled ruin of masonry and metal that forerunner attacks hand rent to flinders. Ignored until Achlys's pointing them out.
<<"Lords, danger close.">>
The only forewarning before a full scale naval concussion warhead shrieks past, close enough to rattle armor plates and blow cloaks. The impact like a localized earthquake and the flash like a star without distance and atmosphere to dull the radiance of it. New screams rise with the renewed blaster fire from the fresh opening that becomes the focus of one of the APC's trio of rotary canons.
As the Imperials near, one of the troopers between where the Sith walk lowers his rifle to raise a palm projector, from which Empress Kessa herself wavers into appearance, "Report." At that same moment the 'trap' laid by the would be ambushers sensed by Tamsin is sprung, spherical fragmentation grenades and cool blue plasma fire come in a volley.
The brief pause as the warhead screeches overhead and the shield that protects them is regarded with the passive interest of a Death Trooper's helmet. It's likely his experience across multiple battlefields that prevents the trooper from hunkering down or otherwise overtly reacting to the explosion. The blaster fire that erupts afterward and is soon marched toward by Aryn earns a glance from DT-X10, but otherwise he simply stands ready to fall into step with the Sith that he has been assigned once the instruction to advance is called out.
Achlys paused in their forward movement, moving in that familiar counterpoint, even as their objective changed, to the death trooper who was her personal escort. "Breeching of the base is imminent, Empress." And then, whatever words Achlys might have continued on with, were cut short, as their attention was drawn away, some ping of the force alerting them to the danger. "Continue!" That, was to whomever was close enough to be able to engage with the Empress' projection, as Achlys stopped stockstill, a bubble of invisible energy blooming around the incoming troopers and personnel, the detritus from the grenades and plasma sheering away like oil off of water as they brought their will to bear on protecting the troops and mitigating damage to the same.
The trap was tripped, and Empress Kessa proved, once more, she was the Empress of bad timing. Achlys showed their mettle, though, deflecting the entire attack with a display of raw power and will to live. It was such an awe inspiring sight, Aryn took to energizing from it. Reacting to the attach, the veteran turned her gaze toward the point of origin and pointed with a gloved hand. "Those of you willing to serve your Empire, with me now. Our enemy has revealed themselves, show them the error of their ways!"
The dark lord moved away from Achlys to lead a sortie into the heat of the battle. Blaster fire erupted in her direction as she casually moved closer, walking with all the ease and comfort of someone who had long ago shed her timid shell for battle.
"Don't tarry. Proceed, let them know that my patience is thinned." Kessa's form disappears in a rush of holographic static and the Stormtroopers continue forward. Shield troopers fill the gap left by those selected by Aryn to vanguard her approach. Pushing to the edges of the bubble Tamsin maintains, keeping just within the range, moving when she moves, avoiding unnecessary injury while it lasts while those outside of the influence continue forward, a single crimson figure dropped to a kneel when a bolt strikes their hip, leaving a glowing red point on their armor.
Others behind move to cover with their own armored forms to allow their battle brethren to move for defilade so they can assess their injury. The walkers continue forth, the shield erected by Achlys rippling the air with fire deflected from it, a manpak missile bursting against it like overripe fruit.
Within the doorway, ahead of Aryn's guard - faces appear in the gloom, eyes wide with hate, fear and determination.
The brief pause as the warhead screeches overhead and the shield that protects them is regarded with the passive interest of a Death Trooper's helmet. It's likely his experience across multiple battlefields that prevents the trooper from hunkering down or otherwise overtly reacting to the explosion. The blaster fire that erupts afterward and is soon marched toward by Aryn earns a glance from DT-X10, but otherwise he simply stands ready to fall into step with the Sith that he has been assigned once the instruction to advance is called out.
What strain the Darth was feeling was not visible behind the mask, beneath the robes. Their head did not fall, nor their shoulders slump. Achlys well knew the toll their manipulation of the force would take on their body, but in the same way that the troopers gave their bodies and, quite often, their lives for the cause, so Achlys did the same. Would the shield kill them? Likely not, but the Force would have its way of making itself known. But that was for the future. For now, the shield held, each strike and explosion rippling along Achlys senses as they adjusted, to, with luck, or will, as much assistance to Kalys as they could. They did not rush, their booted feet carrying them forward as steady as the tide.
A wall of uncertainty painted the expressions of those onlookers observing their advance. Troopers with shields paved the way for Kalus as she walked, and when she used her own command of the force, it fell short of actually affecting a change in the battle climate. None would know of her failure as it failed to register on the face of her emotionless mask, but her cheeks burned red when her command of the force was not validated in those crucial moments.
Rather than wallow in the face of that failure, she commanded that, "It is time to plant your shields. The battle has begun. Hold the line until I may use the strength of the Force to tip the scales to our benefit!" Either they died here, or they would make it. Time would tell.
The hole erupts with blaster fire pouring from it and toward the shields of the stormtroopers that escort Darth Kalus toward her new objective. DT-X10's carbine is lowered, gripped by the barrel in his left hand. He holds it there while his right hand snags a grenade from his belt. He gives it a helpful little shake to prime the cryoban grenade and a press of his gloved thumb while his fingers grip in a particular configuration completes the arming sequence. Only when he's completed the swift ritual does DT-X10 draw back and lob the grenade over bodies and shields alike, into the blaster bristling bunker. The explosion that sets off with a crackle, hiss, and snap of the freezing agent expanding rapidly seems to signal the Death Troopers continued advance. He doesn't look back or otherwise pause to consider the effects of his toss. He simply lifts his E-11 back to hand and continues marching ahead at the flank of Darth Achlys once more, having barely missed a step in his deployment of the grenade.
Flashfreezing air causes strip lights to burst in hails of sparks when heat differential cracks glass containing the gases, bursts of flame that meld to send flicking orange with the white stark lights of electrical discharge. The shield troopers maintain their position as ordered, deflectors 'planted' and emitter array widened to reflect blast bolts into duracrete when the fire resumes.
Outside, at the breech, stormtroopers surge forward when their when bulwark drops to signal their advance - blasters raging and figures falling on both sides with the close range exchange. Crimson pushes in, years of specialized training and advanced armor plates paying dividends over pluck and tenacity.
Within the redoubt chamber those who had begun firing in the wake of the cryoban attack start to withdraw towards the interior, one of them with a fist raised to their mouth on the way.
As Kalys made her way into the bunker, and X10 cleared the way, Achlys proceeded inside, the shield dropping as it was no longer entirely necessary. There was a moment when those booted footfalls stuttered, the brunt of the effort which had been required to maintain such a shield hitting the Sith all at once. Thankfully, that moment was not endured alone, and with X10 following beside them to allay any weakness, Achlys proceeded. Now was the time to advance and eliminate the threat before it became a cancer. The retreating forms were the newly retargeted Sith's focus, and a different wave of force expanded out from them. Not to shield, but to throw aside, an invisible hand ragdolling five of the figured to the ground. 'We need to move quickly. We do not know if there is some deadman's failsafe within the base.'
The path to their salvation was just within reach but a trained eye might discern the sudden structural deterioration occurring the closer they got to the threshold. However, by the time they began to pass beneath the door way, Aryn's hand made a tightly wound fist, and the atomic organic structure of that exit, the /only/ exit was finished. It collapsed without hesitation and fell upon those rebels eager to escape the wrath of the Sith.
Aryn felt a surge of power at this raw display of mastery over the force, and even felt the heat in her eyes when the anger that supplied this made a physical change in her body. It was easy to travel down this path of emotion. Alluring.
"Their exit is no more. Proceed with your mission." She commanded, and waited patiently for the troops to move in and do the rest.
The hole presents an opportunity to exploit. As both Sith and troops begin to pour into the bunker's hole, DT-X10 is there to join them. The brief moment of stuttering steps out of Darth Achlys results in a slow in Exten's pace and a hand drops away from his barrel. He does not touch the Sith Lord that is Darth Achlys, nor does he seeks to stabilize her steps. His hand is there to be taken should the Sith Lord will it. When Darth Achlys recuperates without need for his intervention or aid, Exten's hand returns to the underside of his E-11's barrel. He grips it firmly and stepping forward, covering the position of Darth Achlys with his own black armored body while she fully recovers. A pair of shots are snapped off with the speed and precision expected of a Death Trooper. The debris still floating in the air, the crackle of ice underfoot, and all the other environmental hindrances that may present themselves are ignored beneath gripping boots and battlefield confidence.
Two remain, momentarily, cut down by blasterfire and the quiet in the room is stark contras to fire going on elsewhere in the building. The outer walls breeched and troopers beginning to poor in. Another trooper steps forward with a palm-holo, The Empress standing in miniature upon their hand, features obscured by the shadows of her hood.
"Four-Two-Two-Seven reports successful breech. Continue,"
The building shakes as cannon fire srrikes, dust shaking loose from the ceiling. Cracks dance their way along floor and walls that shake again when somewhere to the left of the redoubt chamber. Elsewhere a wall has been crushed into by one of the walker APCs. More small arms fire chases it, the pop and crack of hand ordnance.
"Achlys, Kalus" the Empress continues without hesitation, "Delve and purge. No survivors, they will only try to retrieve them. Let them flee, reveal their routes to our eyes."
Awaiting no time for response, simply disappearing again.
"As you say, Empress." Order had been given. Orders had been received. "We continue on. No survivors." A momentary pause, before Achlys continued, "Triage our wounded as needed. I will see to them if necessary. Otherwise, have the medics see to them." Losing bodies was always a possibly, not always a necessity. And every trooper lost was years of training gone along with them. "And identify their communications frequency. If they are managing to get communications out, we need to know what it is. And to locate where their sister cells are located." The bodies either crushed beneath stone, or frozen by grenade fire, even those shot down in their attempt to retreat were ignored. Now, to delve deeper into the depths. Mission far from accomplished.
Aryn nods and presses on without another word, her guard moving as she did. The battle wages on around them, but the objective was clear. Root and stem. By morning, or whatever would pass for the dawn of a new day, it'd be without the glimmer of hope as the last flames of rebellion are snuffed out on this world.
The Death Trooper's external vocorder clicks to life, delivering a voice that is cold and even, "Deploy the Seekers for recon. Pair their reports with orbital tunnel scans". All in the interest of, hopefully, revealing precisely what the squads are marching into, where, how many, and to what degree of potential resistance. Again the vocorder clicks off and DT-X10 falls silent after relaying that order to one of the stormtrooper officers moving among the throng of Imperials. Exten once more falls into step at the flank of Darth Achlys, ever watchful of his surroundings as his E-11 is carried still at its readiness. As they march deeper, seeking out the heart of the infestation.
