FACTION The Snake & The Crown [Imperial Civil War / Yaga Minor]

Discussion in 'Open Roleplaying' started by Maxim Fel, Jul 11, 2021.

  1. Maxim Fel

    Maxim Fel Imperator
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    War! On the eve of Emperor MAXIM FEL's coronation, the Imperial war machine growls to life. Tired from three years of Civil War, those loyal to the Fel Crown put into action the SEPTUS OFFENSIVE, a grand strategy meant to end the war once and for all.

    This final offensive begins at Yaga Minor, where imperial agents have discovered that a traitor thought dead, GRAND ADMIRAL LUCIEN IRRIDIUS lives and has allied THE EMPIRE RESURGENT with a local warlord who plans on a decisive strike against the imperial captial of BASTION.

    Led by their young emperor, THE FEL IMPERIUM launches Operation Midnight Spire to fatally wound the enemy's fleet - but all is not as it seems...

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  2. Maxim Fel

    Maxim Fel Imperator
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    [​IMG]

    Maxim watched himself stride to a redwood podium, the sigil of his family's empire emblazoned across the front. It was strange watching it now - he'd been crowned Emperor days prior in the throne room with no one to hear him but Moffs and Praetorian. COMPNOR had seen to it that reality bent to the needs of the Imperium...well the needs of its Emperor at least. Gone was the throne that had taken up the background behind him, replaced with a balcony he'd only seen when his father invited him for tea or caf. He even heard that his double had undergone facial reconstruction early and was actually on the balcony at this very moment, lip-syncing a speech from a broadcast that'd been shot days earlier in a different location.

    The power of illusion was a powerful thing...and the fact COMPNOR was capable of such things worried more than consoled him.

    "Citizens of The Imperium" Maxim heard himself artificially echo - though he'd only known it because he'd been there. The echo had sounded eerily natural, as if his voice was bouncing perfectly from the walls of Ravelin, "we are no strangers to war. For three years, it is all that we have known. But in the past our predecessors fought and won against odds more dire than we can imagine, even now. When the extragalactic terror of the Yuuzhan Vong ravaged the galaxy, The New Order held the line. We won. When the Galactic Alliance sought to wipe us from the galaxy forever...we held the line. We won. When the Sith usurped our justice and crippled our nation...we held the line, and-we-won."

    Maxim's eyes drifted from the holodisplay embedded in the hangar wall and studied the hundreds of Imperial Stormtroopers watching below the command suite. Some cheered at his words, others continued to strap down kit and help pilots check their TIEs.

    The young Emperor frowned. He hoped that his words meant something to them.

    "The enemy we face is a formidable one, not because they are different from us - like those that have tried to strike us down in the past. They are formidable because they are us. They come from the same lines of fire-eaters and iron hearts as we do - because the only enemy capable of threatening a force of will like The Empire is itself.


    Yet those of us loyal to the throne of my ancestors have a great advantage over those who have chosen a road of dishonor...our will is forged from Ironweave! When the traitors stabbed us in the back, we did not break! When the warlords chose cowardice over strength, we did not break! When the battles ground us down and the food ran short, we did not break!

    The terrorists who follow Talian Zahd are nothing but opportunist cowards who seek to take advantage of the New Order's values for their own gain. Parasites who fed from the sweat of our Imperium only to break from the people in their time of need!" Maxim watched himself slam a fist on the podium as the hyperdrive of Star Destroyers growled to life and the troopers in the hanger grew louder, "but blind ambition and bureaucratic corruption do not an Empire make! The will of these traitors is forged from the likes of cortosis - it may reflect saber, bolt and blast but when it is met with the hammer of our righteous fury then its cracks will show, and it-will crumble!"

    "As your Emperor, I vow that this war, these terrorists and Talian Zahd will be brought to a swift and merciless end! Those we lost will not have died in vain! Those who live under the xenophobic oppression of Zahd will be liberated and those who rebel brought to justice!

    Long live the people! Long live the New Order! Long live the Empire!"

    Maxim felt his gut clench, the ground shifted and all at once - dozens of Star Destroyers and a horizon of smaller craft leapt into hyperspace...
     
    #2 Maxim Fel, Jul 11, 2021
    Last edited: Jul 11, 2021
  3. UIrik Malis

    UIrik Malis Chancellor of the Interregnum
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    Ulrik Malis
    Elsewhere.....


    Ulrik sits in a tall chair wrapped in fine leather at a circular table where he thought of each of the nine other finely dressed people in the room as his respected intellectual and political equals. Ulrik was their chief, every one of them feared his ruthlessness and respected the drive he possessed to transform the Empire from an absolute monarchy into a constitutional state. "Galactic Empire Interregnum" That's what this government called itself, but it was less of an Interregnum of the throne with the ascension of Maxim Fel to his Father's throne and more of an Interregnum of ideas, symbolic the old way was finished.

    Puffing on the end of a long thick oak cigar, Ulrik dabs its' fire out into a simple glass ashtray and clears his throat loudly in the quiet room. He gestures with a wrinkled and scarred hand towards the Minister of Defence, a former Moff named Dellon Rowe. "Mister Rowe, if you would kindly give the cabinet an update on the distant Civil War." Ulrik with keen eyes watches Dellon rise with a careful grace, Dellon straightened his baggy suit and Ulrik suppresses a smile; the man hadn't worn civil fine clothing for a number of years and evidently had lost much bulk in his career walking the lengths of Star Destroyers.

    "Yes, Chancellor." Dellon begins and rubs his bare chin with one hand while the other examines a datapad. "Intelligence indicates The Fel Imperium appears to be beginning a new counter-offensive against Admiral Lucien Irridius. Much territory there is contested and the offensive appears to be vulnerable, in that critical infrastructure has been left poorly defended" Dellon pauses gesturing to the holoprojector in the centre of the round table and it casts an image in crisp coloured lines for all to observe. "The Imperium and Irridius' factions both possess fleets of Star Destroyers which consume enormous amounts of fuel and resources to field, The Imperium have a fuel storage facility here."

    Ulrik listens and leans in the projection's direction with narrowed eyes; it looked that the storage facility was largely devoid of protection but also remote, located deep within a gas cloud. "
    And how can we turn this to our advantage, Mister Rowe?" Ulrik's tone was curt and polite concealing an irritation he wanted Dellon to get the poignant details, this was extraneous detail and unnecessary.

    Dellon is stopped from speaking by Ulrik and then gives the Chancellor a nod.
    "Irridius' forces commandeered a crippled Imperium supply ship sir and have now laden it with baradium explosives on course with a logistics station, they intend to detonate the explosives after docking with the station destroying it and depriving his Maje-" Dellon cuts off, realising that they were now of the Interregnum and would not refer to the Fel Emperors as such. Composing himself, Dellon continues. "Depriving the Imperium of a vital refuelling facility outside of Bastion which might cripple future offensives. They're also intending to steal the encrypted data computer and a shipment of precious metals and crystals aboard."

    Swallowing loudly, Ulrik lips his cracked pursed lips and speaks calmly. "I speak for this Government when I say we have no intention for the Civil War to end with a decisive Irridius victory." His eyes scan the room and his statement is met with some grumbling but with many cheering 'Here here!'. Ulrik slides out of his chair and stands tall, and looks to the Minister of Defence. "Are we tracking this vessel?" Dellon confirms with words that Military Intelligence was actively tracking its' position by way of hull transmitter. "Then I will authorise in writing for Defence to engage in a clandestine direct action operation to seize and detain the vessel, and bring it into Interregnum custody."

    The room approves of the motion bashing their palms on the table, Dellon nods his shaggy blonde hair covered head. "Yes Chancellor, I believe the five-hundred and first clone battalion will be an adequate resource."
     
    #3 UIrik Malis, Jul 12, 2021
    Last edited: Jul 12, 2021
  4. Rih Vizsla

    Rih Vizsla Little Wolf
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    Only days after meeting with the recently crowned emperor, Rih sat in the common area of a nondescript transport with eight individuals in matte black armor, the only sound the emperor's speech holographically broadcasted from the projector at the center of the table they sat around. Her helmet sat in her lap as she watched the body double lip sync the speech, disquieted by the eery exactness at which they had been able to replicate the young heir's visage. There were some things she would never understand, and this was one of them. If a leader was going into battle with his men, he should be proud of it, not hide behind a crafted face.

    For the hours the nine of them had spent together not a single word had been uttered, nor had she seen any of their faces. A cursory nod in greeting was the only acknowledgement given, and she was content with that. Before she had been lectured on decorum and expectations, but here things made sense. There were no words needed to understand where all of them stood, and she cared little for how they spent their time preceeding the battle so long as it wasn't spent bothering her. For the first time, she and Imperials had an understanding.

    Despite its overwhelming nationalism that she would never understand, she had to admit it was a well-crafted speech. Not that she expected anything different following her meeting with Maxim. There were many lessons he still had left to learn, but inspiring his people to war was obviously not one of them. She made a noncommittal noise as she leaned back, shifting in her seat. For as little as she cared for this nation or its people, Rih did hope the young emperor would survive the battle. The two hadn't spoken of the conflict ahead to any significant degree, but she knew enough to be aware that this wasn't his first fight. Still, peacetime did little to sharpen a warrior's skill.

    Breaking herself from those thoughts, she glanced at her faceless companions, looking into each of their visors. These were some of the best soldiers the Imperium had to offer, or so she'd been told. A part of her wanted to test that personally, but a bigger part hoped they knew enough to stay out of her way so she could do her job and they their own. It wasn't too much to ask, but if she'd learned one thing from her time on Bastion, it's that anything could be turned into an ordeal.

    The ship lurched as the projection flickered out, and there was the familiar feeling of gravity pressing her back into her seat as the transport and the rest of the small fleet jumped into hyperspace. Now, then, it was just a matter of time.
     
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  5. Hans Rennagen

    Hans Rennagen The Duke of Raxus
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    The Civil War had made men out of boys, generations of Imperials who had seen nothing but peace and prosperity thrust into battle for the fate of their nation. With the Emperor dead, his nation split in two, the fires of liberal revolution threatened to burn down the Tion Hegemony.


    Emperor Maxim had few supporters in the easternmost reaches of the Empire. The Empire Resurgent loomed, regional warlords had begun to carve up Tion, and Zygerrians had begun to raid the less governable worlds of the sector. The loyalist forces had fought hard to maintain order, but they were getting pushed back.


    Though reluctant to leave his hyper-lanes to the rebels, the Moff of the Tion Hegemony has agreed to lend his force to an operation that is assured to end the war. Leading the charge to hit the enemy along the South Braxant was one of the Tionese lords that had devoted himself greatly to the Imperial efforts...



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    INS Honorable Union, Raxus System



    "This is an important day. Do you think you're ready?"


    Hans leaned against the bridge's viewports and stared out at the barren moon above them as he pondered his uncle's question.


    "Yes, I think I am. But I worry about mother."


    "The Duchess-Regent will be fine," the older man remarked patronizingly about his sister, "she's a tough bitch."


    Hans chuckled, easing the nerves that ran high through his body. His Uncle stepped forth and placed a hand firmly on his back, “This war will be over soon, and then you’ll be a ruler in your own right.”


    Hans was hopeful of the thought. He was already a man of twenty-five, having grown up among the elites of the Empire, both in the military and aristocracy. But the war had kept him from his birthright, or so his mother would have him believe. For three years he had been a ruler only in name, desperately trying to prove himself on the battlefield against the revolutionaries that threatened his home. Now he was preparing to enter the Civil War for real.


    His uncle, Pavanel Robak, was the Moff of Tion going on thirty years. He was a stately man of short stature, and though his facial features had begun to sag with old age he still carried himself with the refined style and manner he had throughout his career. He was proud of the Hegemony, and of the Empire… and of Hans. When his sister had taken the throne, he had felt for his nephew. The young man was bright-eyed, ready and able, willing to make sacrifices for the Emperor....


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    The battle was underway when the Tionese Sector Fleet dropped from hyperspace. Their battlegroup wasn’t large, but it approached quickly on the enemy flank. Hans had experience only with leading fireteams, primarily knights though the war meant he’d had plenty of experience in the last few years leading stormtroopers and militiamen. He had no knowledge of commanding a Star Destroyer, thus his uncle’s finest admiral was at the head of the operation. The Eastern worlds of the Empire may not have been home to a fervent imperial populace, but the upper echelons were still fiercely loyal, and Hans was thankful to be surrounded by them, now and when he would take the throne in his own right.


    Hans made his way from his quarters to the bridge when he’d been informed of their arrival at Yaga Minor. The ship bustled with crewmen taking to their battlestations for the impending engagement. On the bridge, the battle had already begun. The admiral, deep in his work and focused on the holoscreen before him, gave only a curt response to Hans upon entry.


    “Admiral, I trust everything is going according to plan?” the Duke’s tone was more appropriate for something like a jovial business meeting, not an active warzone. The Admiral could tell the boy had a false sense of safety aboard the ship, like the battle outside didn’t affect them as if an easily attained victory was a foregone conclusion.


    “Yes, of course my lord.” the Admiral reported, forcing a smile.


    “What did you think of the Emperor’s speech?”


    “I didn’t hear it.” he answered disinterestedly, “did you come to discuss politics, or are you going to learn something about the operation of an Imperial-class Star Destroyer.”



    “I apologize Admiral, but before we begin, I do require that one of your officers establish communications with the Emperor’s flagship.”


    The Admiral obliged, and a hail was made to Fel’s command bridge...

    Maxim Fel
     
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  6. Maxim Fel

    Maxim Fel Imperator
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    Something wasn't right.

    Maxim stood alongside Captain Nalivar, a tall Neimodian who stood tall above his Emperor - so much so that the alien's chest full of medals and commendations could smack the young ruler across the face. It was no surprise that such a decorated captain had his eye glued to the same phenomena.

    "Where is the rest of the fleet? It can't all be behind the moon." The Force gave Maxim nothing, even as he reached out and tried to coax an answer from it. The battle had kicked into full swing almost as soon as the fleet had dropped from orbit, turbolaser fire igniting the fabrics of the universe as soon as the Star Destroyers, cruisers and missile boats dropped back into reality. Yet the devastation that followed, the evaporation of shields and disintegration of hulls, was far less than the intelligence dictated it should have been.

    "Unlikely, My Emperor...but possible, perhaps." Captain Nalivar narrowed his glowing, orange eyes, "I fear this whole operation has been made into a ruse for the enemy. We should consider a tactical retreat."

    "No. We have already committed to the operation, retreat now, and we will lose more than we stand to gain." Maxim noted, though he despised the truth in his own words. What could have possibly gone wrong? How could intelligence miss this large of a fleet movement? It implied a great deal of problems that he dared not think about.

    "With respect, My Emperor, we stand to lose the fleet if we do not. Something is obviously wrong here, if we-


    "Exactly, captain. Something is obviously wrong. Too obvious. We are dealing with an enemy who knows us...I fear that The Grand Admiral wanted this to be obvious. Wants us to retreat," Maxim brought the tip of his thumb to his mouth and bit the tip as he studied the battle outside the viewport. Where there should have been dozens more warships and a colossal SSD was a fraction of those forces and the lack of any Super Star Destroyer. "We have already sprung the trap, captain, I don't think there is any escaping it. Not with the large force we have. We will just have to burn our way through it...whatever it is. When the Mandalorian reaches the other side of the moon, she will let us know what she finds."

    At that moment an ensign called up from the command pits. A hail from the Tionese Fleet had come in, and the captain had it pulled up on the bridge holoprojector immediately. Maxim watched as two phantoms materialized into the air, each crowned by a name that the on-board computer had displayed for The Emperor's convenience.

    Maxim greeted the admiral by name before turning to Hans, "Duke Rennagen, you have convenient timing - I have a task for your fleet."


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    "You up for this, Merc?" A deathtrooper asked of Rih, though neither of them knew each other's name, "I've always wanted to see how much you Mandos can take" the rest of the squad was quiet, but they did turn in her direction - waiting for the response.
     
  7. Rih Vizsla

    Rih Vizsla Little Wolf
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    Silence met the question initially, and Rih looked where she knew the trooper's eyes would be beneath the helmet. "More than most aruetiise can give." She held their gaze in the seconds that followed, breaking away to look over the rest of the squad. There was no real way to judge their reception to her answer, but she knew they would sense the quiet challenge that lingered unspoken. Not an insult, not really, unless they chose to take it as one - and she wouldn't correct them either way.

    Mercifully the pilot broke the silence, calling through overhead comms that they were nearing their destination and to make any final preparations. Without a word she pulled on her helmet and sealed it to her armor, giving the eight of them a final look through her armor before standing and making her way to the cockpit. She wanted to see what awaited them herself. More than that, she was expected to report to the emperor exactly what awaited them on the other side of the moon. There was something to be said about his own soldiers not doing so instead, but she wasn't sure what that was. Besides, they were paying her enough to not ask any more questions than necessary.

    No sound but that of the doors sliding open preceded her entrance into the cockpit, and she cursed to herself as what awaited them came into sight. Instead of a fleet there were only three gravity well generators, and she knew enough of strategy to know what would happen next. Her comms failed almost as soon as she attempted to raise Maxim on the encrypted channel, and without speaking to the crew she walked out, knowing already that with their comms jammed and the generators in place that whatever trap had been laid was already successful. That still left her with the same job to do, albeit with a few more complications.

    When she entered the common area the troopers looked to her, and this time she cut directly to the heart of things. "Three grav well generators, no fleet. What isn't already engaged fighting our ships will be here soon." There was no guarantee, of course, but had she been on the other side of this battle it was what she would have done. "Comms are down. We're on our own." In the end, her plans didn't change drastically. There was still a walking dead man to attend to. That was, assuming they made it to the flagship in one piece.
     
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  8. Maxim Fel

    Maxim Fel Imperator
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    The duke bowed in respect to his liege, but as he spoke it was through a haze of static as the communication suddenly began to shake and shutter under the weight of some unseen interference.

    "My Emperor" Hans acknowledged through the crackling of the comms, the rest of his words lost in the ocean of static. Maxim commanded the communications officer to steady the signal, but it was no use, and after a few sputters and unintelligible words the hologram faded into thin air.

    "Communications have been completely jammed, sire! We are working to restore it now!" Maxim spun on heel, his attention dragged back to the storm of green and red fire igniting the space outside his bridge's viewport. Molten slag spewed forth from fiery wounds in ship plating, the artillery-forged magma dancing into the void as it rapidly cooled into miles-long strands of fused metal. Suddenly, a patch of this fused metal vaporized into nothing, its thin form replaced by a hulking shadow of a Star Destroyer...then another and another.

    "Multiple hyperspace signatures detected!" a crewman shouted from the command pit as a new flurry of light erupted from the hulls of the emerging star destroyers as they appeared in space around them. Maxim watched in shocked horror as the shields of the fleet flared with ghostly spurts of light against a new hail of enemy fire.

    Klaxion alarms screamed out, Maxim losing his footing and nearly toppling into the command put as his flagship suddenly veered hard. The Emperor clung to the railing, his muscles screaming at him with a silent burn as he forced himself upright and watched another hulking form appear right in front of his flagship, the shadows of both vessels narrowly avoiding a collision.

    "It's a trap! The fleet needs to pull out now!" Maxim commanded over the scream of the alarms


    "We can't! Hyperdrive is picking up a gravity shadow! They must have interdiction!"


    "Something big is coming out of hyperspace!"


    Maxim's heart stopped, his eyes going wide and the alarms falling away around him as he watched a dagger cut open reality itself. Like the blade of a titan, The Shadow of Regret emerged from hyperspace - an Executor Super Star Destroyer that filled the void of space like a steel horizon. Someone screamed somewhere in the distance, the hull creaked under some unseen source of fire, and Maxim's view of the world shrank in around the impossibly massive form of Irridius' flagship.

    Was this how he died?

    Silently, the hull of The Shadow became a glowing sun, forcing Maxim to avert his eyes against the blinding green lights. Raising a hand against the second sun, Maxim peered through the blinding light only to find himself staring straight into hell itself. He felt thousands of lives quietly extinguished as the hull of the nearest Star Destroyers was chewed away in glowing, molten chunks - leaving behind only a glowing blob of metal in mere seconds. All around his ship, the same silent destruction played out as the sheer quantity of firepower churned metal to liquid.

    "Evasive maneuvers!" Maxim cried out, his voice almost caught in his throat, "get under the SSD, it's the only way!"


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    "Fierfek...sensors just lit up. The fleet is getting swarmed" Javis, the technical expert of the Death Trooper unit, cursed under his breath, "they are damn everywhere and the SSD right in the middle of the karking fleet! How did intel miss this!?"

    "Since when has intel not missed the most important shit? Irridius was an intel officer for force-sake, the whole division is probably full of traitors" Ves, a demolition expert noted with gritted teeth

    "Can it all of you! We still have a job to do here" Marrz, the de facto leader of the operation cut in, "we can't afford to sit around in awe while the fleet is getting hammered. They need those generators offline, and Irridius still needs to die. Mando!"

    Marrz turned to look at Rih from beyond the black eyes of his helmet, "you're getting paid to kill the Admiral, so go kill him. I'm giving you tactical command of twelve of my guys, you take the ship and find a way onto the Shadow of Regret. I'm taking the rest out the airlock to hit those generators"
     
    #8 Maxim Fel, Dec 18, 2021
    Last edited: Dec 18, 2021
  9. Rih Vizsla

    Rih Vizsla Little Wolf
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    Right. It would have been nice if it was as easy as the trooper made it sound.

    Acknowledging his strategy with a nod, Rih took a final look at the squad that had accompanied her thus far. "Let me know when you make contact, if you can." She watched as they prepared to disembark, turning to reenter the cockpit and tell the pilot about the change of plans. It wasn't going to be a pleasant ride, but nothing about this was turning out to be more than one unpleasant surprise after another. So went the nature of her work.

    All there was left to do was strap herself in for the rough ride ahead and wait out the storm. The ship rocked and juked sharply as the pilot did their level best to avoid turbolaser fire as the rocketed through the epicenter of the battlefield to reach the SSD and the man of the hour aboard. Her chin was kept tucked to her chest out of habit as the whole ship vibrated and durasteel groaned as the vessel was put through its paces. She had survived her share of crashes before, but didn't relish the idea of testing her luck so surely against this type of opponent. There were better ways to die.

    A metallic shriek and shudder told her everything she hadn't wanted to happen had found a way, and there was little else left but to brace as the pilot called overhead that impact was imminent.

    Sparks flew as the ship skidded across the floor of the hangar, pieces of molten shrapnel flying off in all directions as the sudden presence of gravity brought them to a sliding stop. Carefully Rih lifted her head, testing every new movement for injury as she cut the straps holding her in place and fell to what was now the floor of the upended vessel. "Sit-rep." She called out aloud and through secure in-helmet comms to the twelve that had been sent with her, picking her way through the wreck to the cockpit to find the pilot bloodied with their neck twisted at an unnatural angle. At least it had been quick.

    Turning to the already partially shattered viewport, bracing herself before kicking an opening big enough to fit through, knocking away the jagged pieces with her gauntlet-plate blade before squeezing through the makeshift exit as her Death Trooper accompaniment did the same all across the wreck. Immediately she was greeted by screaming klaxons that worsened an emerging headache, and looked across the scuffed armored figures as they assembled. "Eyes up. We're moving." And their quarry would be doing the same.