Birthed of Tragedy and Violence [FT | MWG | Closed]
Posted: Sun Jun 11, 2017 5:32 pm
Jokoto System | Sub-Sector Aule | Sector R-T of the Thrashian Empire
Ten months after the Coronation of Empress Dheinalia
The world burned. The colony's cities had been sacked, quickly and with brutality. The raiders had only been able to halfway make good their escape when the Thrashian sub-sector EART arrived. The Victory III-class Star Destroyer Seraphim launched a barrage of missiles into the ramshackle frigate-analog ships that the raiders were using, followed by pinpoint turbolaser fire. Two of the raider ships were destroyed outright, the largest crippled, and a few smaller ones managed to escape into hyperspace.
"Tractor beams to bring that rust bucket into position," ordered Captain Kasandra Nuil. The bridge was a flurry of activity. "Alert Major Stukov that his stormtroopers will be making up the boarding teams."
"Aye, Captain."
"Comscan, where's that analysis of the surface?"
"Report is coming in now, ma'am."
Captain Nuil stalked over to the Comscan station, furious. As part of an Enemy Action Response Team, it was their job to get places and stop an enemy from doing just what these raiders had achieved. The fact that their local deep space station had only received the SOS-call an hour before, nearly half a day after the raiders had actually attacked, meant nothing to stem her fury. The Imperial Fleet needed to be faster.
Better.
Stronger.
The young ensign manning the station looked up, his shaved face smooth as a child's. Fresh out of the Academy most likely, Nuil thought.
"Report is coming now," he repeated, indicating his holoscreen display. Nuil leaned forward and looked across the data scrolling down.
A voice popped up in Nuil's ear, coming through her com piece. "If I may be so bold as to interject your thoughts, Captain Nuil, allow me to sparse the information coming through my systems."
A small six-inch tall holographic figure appeared next to the display. The form was that of a young woman wearing a typical Imperial uniform - with some very liberal adjustments made to it's cut.
"Go ahead, Sera," said Nuil. Sera was a new piece of technology that had been integrated into all newly developed Thrashian ships: an artificial intelligence system designed for aiding ship activity and crew support. Each AI took the name of it's respective ship as it's own. Nuil had taken the change in stride, accepting that such changes were likely to be more frequent now that the Empire was in a new galaxy.
The cute looking figure gave a salute.
"Power fluctuations are being detected in all four of the colony's major cities. Their central power networks were apparently damaged...I calculate that three of them will overload within the next four hours. The last is stable, though failing."
"Life signs?"
"Endrograd, Lykia, and Phomos are bereft of life signs. It would seem that their populations have either fled, perished, or were taken captive by the raiders. Some life signs have been detected in the surrounding highlands. The settlement of Lucipher has roughly six hundred and fifty-three life signs. However, many appear to be dying...as I am now seeing a reduction in this number. Many must be wounded."
"Alright, thanks Sera," Nuil leaned up. She looked down at the ensign. "Make sure you can start giving out such updates as fast as Sera can in the future."
"Uh...yes, ma'am?" the ensign looked flabbergasted at such a concept. Nuil grinned to herself for the moment's levity, then turned back to her own duty station. Just like sending FNGs to go to Maintenance and ask for ion fluid for the TIEs.
"Lieutenant Khasara."
The Vossk being turned, at it's name. "Yesss, Captain?" The Vossk were a client state of the Empire and as such it's people were allowed to join the Imperial military. Some races, such as the Vossk, were highly aggressive and militant; having the chance to find an outlet for that built up aggression was important for harmony within the Empire. Khasara was one of four thousand newly inducted Vossk personnel.
"Have emergency response and medical teams prepare for landing at Lucipher. Have the landing commander get in touch with Sera about the details," she ordered.
Khasara placed his right hand, which had only four fingers and ended in slight claws, over his chest and bowed in the Vossk form of salute. "Asss you command, Captain."
The atmospheric entry had been a bit rougher than expected. Lieutenant Schrell adjusted his earpiece for what felt like the sixth time in the last five minutes.
"Your earpiece seems to be a problem, Lieutenant," a disembodied voice came through the earpiece.
"Yeah, Sera, I'm aware. It annoys me sometimes. I'm on the waiting list for one of the sub-dermal ones," Schrell replied, irritably.
"That may indeed fix your problem." Sera wasn't capable, according to its core programming, of being sassy. But that didn't appear to be a problem in terms of its learning curve.
"What's our ETA?" asked Schrell.
"Lambda Shuttle Tydirium will arrive at point delta in six hundred seconds. Atmospherics are apparently keeping the pilot from being able to have a more direct route."
"Yeah, well, whenever it is that AI can control the weather, get back to me," said Schrell. "What's the update on the colonists?"
"Life signs have remained steady at about five hundred...processing...yes, five hundred. One hundred and twenty-three life signs have been lost in the last fifteen minutes."
Schrell gritted his teeth. "Kark me! Those bastards must have left some of their raiding party behind when they ran off to orbit." He switched a channel to the pilot. "Sergeant Qallus, get us there faster! Those Sith spawn are killing our colonists!"
"Give me another minute to get through the ionosphere and I'll boost speed," the pilot replied, his voice strained.
The shuttle shook like the fist of an angry god was shaking it, before finally returning to a more normal vibration of it's engines. Several of the stormtroopers in the back made the sign of the Goddess, apparently thankful for making it through whatever atmospheric storm was affecting them. The medical team next to them looked thankful, their faces not obscured by helmets. Instead they'd donned rebreather masks, just in case there were localized toxins or lethal agents in the air.
Everyone was thrown back into their seats, belts cutting a bit deep, as the engines whined loudly like a banshee's roar and the shuttle thrust forward.
"Sit tight, folks. This is going to be a rough one," Sergeant Qallus' voice came over the intercom.
"ETA updated to less than two hundred and seventy seconds...your pilot is good, Lieutenant."
"I'll be sure to pass on your compliments," gritted Schrell.
The shuttle came to a hard landing three minutes later on the outskirts of a burning Imperial town. The settlement had been originally constructed out of prefabricated buildings. As he stepped off the shuttle and assessed the area, Schrell could see where more natural buildings, built from local materials, had begun to surround the more rigid and less architecturally pleasing prefab units. Several of the buildings were half-destroyed, their walls torn down and roofs destroyed. A few unmoving bodies lay among the rubble.
Three squads of stormtroopers fanned out around the landing site. Schrell turned to his platoon sergeant, ST-9983, Frenk.
"Sergeant, I'm leaving 3rd Squad with you here to secure our landing zone. Have the medics set up a triage station here and expand the perimeter at your discretion."
"Yes sir, Lieutenant."
Schrell turned to his other men and switched to the platoon com line. "First and Second Squads on me. Advance marching order, hostiles expected. Sera will advise on position of civilians."
A series of com clicks was all the confirmation he needed. First squad moved forward into the settlement. A single trooper advancing forward, followed a few dozen meters from behind by two more, and thence forward by pairs -- leapfrogging from cover point to cover point. DC-20 blaster carbines swept the areas as they passed.
Schrell led 2nd Squad, following behind 1st. He wore body armor, but not the full environmental suite that his stormtroopers enjoyed. The smells of burning plastic, plasteel, and even the sickening scent of charred flesh filled his nostrils. It only served to make him angrier, which he used to fuel his focus.
A com click sounded. "Hostiles at 2 o'clock from lead. Thirty-five meters."
"Confirm presence of civilians," ordered Schrell, giving the hand signal for his second squad to speed up movement.
"Two dozen civilians confirmed. They're being lined up against the outer wall of the central gymnasium."
All Thrashian settlements, as part of their prefabricated design, included a sports center and stadium, often called a gymnasium. It seemed natural that civilians would have fled there in the event of a crisis. It's high walls and sturdy construction would have seemed like a safe bet.
First squad had reached their forward scout. As they approached closer, Schrell was glad to see that all of them had activated their adaptive camouflage -- their normal pristine white armor changing to match their surroundings. The unit had taken up position around a burnt out shell of a public transport.
Using hand signs, Schrell sent his second squad to flank around to the right and gain a second firing angle. He then carefully looked over the edge of the broken window he was by to see what was happening.
A group of mixed aliens, all wearing a mix-match of body armor done in colorful paint schemes, was shuffling along a bunch of unarmed civilians. The majority were human, but a few Duros and a Zabrak could be seen among them. They all appeared to be female and half were children.
A mound of dead women and children was already lying on the ground, blaster holes burnt into them and into the wall behind where they had stood.
"Pick your targets, start with the larger ones. On my signal only, open fire. Confirm order," ordered Schrell.
A series of com clicks confirmed.
Ten months after the Coronation of Empress Dheinalia
The world burned. The colony's cities had been sacked, quickly and with brutality. The raiders had only been able to halfway make good their escape when the Thrashian sub-sector EART arrived. The Victory III-class Star Destroyer Seraphim launched a barrage of missiles into the ramshackle frigate-analog ships that the raiders were using, followed by pinpoint turbolaser fire. Two of the raider ships were destroyed outright, the largest crippled, and a few smaller ones managed to escape into hyperspace.
"Tractor beams to bring that rust bucket into position," ordered Captain Kasandra Nuil. The bridge was a flurry of activity. "Alert Major Stukov that his stormtroopers will be making up the boarding teams."
"Aye, Captain."
"Comscan, where's that analysis of the surface?"
"Report is coming in now, ma'am."
Captain Nuil stalked over to the Comscan station, furious. As part of an Enemy Action Response Team, it was their job to get places and stop an enemy from doing just what these raiders had achieved. The fact that their local deep space station had only received the SOS-call an hour before, nearly half a day after the raiders had actually attacked, meant nothing to stem her fury. The Imperial Fleet needed to be faster.
Better.
Stronger.
The young ensign manning the station looked up, his shaved face smooth as a child's. Fresh out of the Academy most likely, Nuil thought.
"Report is coming now," he repeated, indicating his holoscreen display. Nuil leaned forward and looked across the data scrolling down.
A voice popped up in Nuil's ear, coming through her com piece. "If I may be so bold as to interject your thoughts, Captain Nuil, allow me to sparse the information coming through my systems."
A small six-inch tall holographic figure appeared next to the display. The form was that of a young woman wearing a typical Imperial uniform - with some very liberal adjustments made to it's cut.
"Go ahead, Sera," said Nuil. Sera was a new piece of technology that had been integrated into all newly developed Thrashian ships: an artificial intelligence system designed for aiding ship activity and crew support. Each AI took the name of it's respective ship as it's own. Nuil had taken the change in stride, accepting that such changes were likely to be more frequent now that the Empire was in a new galaxy.
The cute looking figure gave a salute.
"Power fluctuations are being detected in all four of the colony's major cities. Their central power networks were apparently damaged...I calculate that three of them will overload within the next four hours. The last is stable, though failing."
"Life signs?"
"Endrograd, Lykia, and Phomos are bereft of life signs. It would seem that their populations have either fled, perished, or were taken captive by the raiders. Some life signs have been detected in the surrounding highlands. The settlement of Lucipher has roughly six hundred and fifty-three life signs. However, many appear to be dying...as I am now seeing a reduction in this number. Many must be wounded."
"Alright, thanks Sera," Nuil leaned up. She looked down at the ensign. "Make sure you can start giving out such updates as fast as Sera can in the future."
"Uh...yes, ma'am?" the ensign looked flabbergasted at such a concept. Nuil grinned to herself for the moment's levity, then turned back to her own duty station. Just like sending FNGs to go to Maintenance and ask for ion fluid for the TIEs.
"Lieutenant Khasara."
The Vossk being turned, at it's name. "Yesss, Captain?" The Vossk were a client state of the Empire and as such it's people were allowed to join the Imperial military. Some races, such as the Vossk, were highly aggressive and militant; having the chance to find an outlet for that built up aggression was important for harmony within the Empire. Khasara was one of four thousand newly inducted Vossk personnel.
"Have emergency response and medical teams prepare for landing at Lucipher. Have the landing commander get in touch with Sera about the details," she ordered.
Khasara placed his right hand, which had only four fingers and ended in slight claws, over his chest and bowed in the Vossk form of salute. "Asss you command, Captain."
* * * * *
The atmospheric entry had been a bit rougher than expected. Lieutenant Schrell adjusted his earpiece for what felt like the sixth time in the last five minutes.
"Your earpiece seems to be a problem, Lieutenant," a disembodied voice came through the earpiece.
"Yeah, Sera, I'm aware. It annoys me sometimes. I'm on the waiting list for one of the sub-dermal ones," Schrell replied, irritably.
"That may indeed fix your problem." Sera wasn't capable, according to its core programming, of being sassy. But that didn't appear to be a problem in terms of its learning curve.
"What's our ETA?" asked Schrell.
"Lambda Shuttle Tydirium will arrive at point delta in six hundred seconds. Atmospherics are apparently keeping the pilot from being able to have a more direct route."
"Yeah, well, whenever it is that AI can control the weather, get back to me," said Schrell. "What's the update on the colonists?"
"Life signs have remained steady at about five hundred...processing...yes, five hundred. One hundred and twenty-three life signs have been lost in the last fifteen minutes."
Schrell gritted his teeth. "Kark me! Those bastards must have left some of their raiding party behind when they ran off to orbit." He switched a channel to the pilot. "Sergeant Qallus, get us there faster! Those Sith spawn are killing our colonists!"
"Give me another minute to get through the ionosphere and I'll boost speed," the pilot replied, his voice strained.
The shuttle shook like the fist of an angry god was shaking it, before finally returning to a more normal vibration of it's engines. Several of the stormtroopers in the back made the sign of the Goddess, apparently thankful for making it through whatever atmospheric storm was affecting them. The medical team next to them looked thankful, their faces not obscured by helmets. Instead they'd donned rebreather masks, just in case there were localized toxins or lethal agents in the air.
Everyone was thrown back into their seats, belts cutting a bit deep, as the engines whined loudly like a banshee's roar and the shuttle thrust forward.
"Sit tight, folks. This is going to be a rough one," Sergeant Qallus' voice came over the intercom.
"ETA updated to less than two hundred and seventy seconds...your pilot is good, Lieutenant."
"I'll be sure to pass on your compliments," gritted Schrell.
The shuttle came to a hard landing three minutes later on the outskirts of a burning Imperial town. The settlement had been originally constructed out of prefabricated buildings. As he stepped off the shuttle and assessed the area, Schrell could see where more natural buildings, built from local materials, had begun to surround the more rigid and less architecturally pleasing prefab units. Several of the buildings were half-destroyed, their walls torn down and roofs destroyed. A few unmoving bodies lay among the rubble.
Three squads of stormtroopers fanned out around the landing site. Schrell turned to his platoon sergeant, ST-9983, Frenk.
"Sergeant, I'm leaving 3rd Squad with you here to secure our landing zone. Have the medics set up a triage station here and expand the perimeter at your discretion."
"Yes sir, Lieutenant."
Schrell turned to his other men and switched to the platoon com line. "First and Second Squads on me. Advance marching order, hostiles expected. Sera will advise on position of civilians."
A series of com clicks was all the confirmation he needed. First squad moved forward into the settlement. A single trooper advancing forward, followed a few dozen meters from behind by two more, and thence forward by pairs -- leapfrogging from cover point to cover point. DC-20 blaster carbines swept the areas as they passed.
Schrell led 2nd Squad, following behind 1st. He wore body armor, but not the full environmental suite that his stormtroopers enjoyed. The smells of burning plastic, plasteel, and even the sickening scent of charred flesh filled his nostrils. It only served to make him angrier, which he used to fuel his focus.
A com click sounded. "Hostiles at 2 o'clock from lead. Thirty-five meters."
"Confirm presence of civilians," ordered Schrell, giving the hand signal for his second squad to speed up movement.
"Two dozen civilians confirmed. They're being lined up against the outer wall of the central gymnasium."
All Thrashian settlements, as part of their prefabricated design, included a sports center and stadium, often called a gymnasium. It seemed natural that civilians would have fled there in the event of a crisis. It's high walls and sturdy construction would have seemed like a safe bet.
First squad had reached their forward scout. As they approached closer, Schrell was glad to see that all of them had activated their adaptive camouflage -- their normal pristine white armor changing to match their surroundings. The unit had taken up position around a burnt out shell of a public transport.
Using hand signs, Schrell sent his second squad to flank around to the right and gain a second firing angle. He then carefully looked over the edge of the broken window he was by to see what was happening.
A group of mixed aliens, all wearing a mix-match of body armor done in colorful paint schemes, was shuffling along a bunch of unarmed civilians. The majority were human, but a few Duros and a Zabrak could be seen among them. They all appeared to be female and half were children.
A mound of dead women and children was already lying on the ground, blaster holes burnt into them and into the wall behind where they had stood.
"Pick your targets, start with the larger ones. On my signal only, open fire. Confirm order," ordered Schrell.
A series of com clicks confirmed.