Dominion Bryn'adûl | Dominion of Baros

[Primal Architect]

Baros Must Fall

An eerie silence spreads across the Galaxy, a shroud of death and merciless destruction. The Bryn'adûl launch a savage strike toward the Dominus Sector, reaching out once more to continue their Crusade against all known life in the Galaxy. Baros stands as a fortified world, hardened by war. The Deep Space Coalition has scrambled in fear, gathering what small forces they can to the hub-city of Barhuum. A mega-city, built upon the harsh mountains of Baros, its hazardous storms forging a strong and resilient home to many. Refugees, survivors who know of what the Bryn'adûl have wrought upon their homes, their families. They will fight till the very last.

But we, have our truth. The Bryn'adûl stand on the edge of greatness - ready to take what is rightfully theirs from those who have scorned this Galaxies gifts for too long. Barhuum is a powerful city, readied by the Deep Space Coalition to the best it can. Yet it still won't be enough. The Bryn'adûl have arrived in force, their ships have blackened out the sky. The defenders of this world will never know sunlight again.

Objective A: Take the City
One by one, their stalwart defenders will fall. We will take everything they have and more, we will grind it into dust into their is nothing left but ash beneath our feet. Their identity will be gone, everything that ever made this world theirs will be finished for all time. Find them in their homes, find these weak creatures where they think they are safe and eradicate them.

Objective B: Take the Floating Fortress
Deep in the heart of the city is a Fortress, filled with The Deep Space Coalition, have done all they can to set up their defences. This world is old, its scars are deep and its formations are built to stand the test of time. We will be its final test, tear it down. Tear it all down.

Objective A: Hold off the Bryn’adûl Horde
The Deep Space Coalition has already reinforced the main city of Barhuum with a variety of tanks and canons, employing thousands of soldiers to try and hold off the Bryn’adûl while the twenty thousand souls within the city are trying to get to safety or even the Floating Fortress itself to escape the planet. Aid the Coalition and hold off the Bryn’adûl horde for as long as you possibly can to save its people from certain death.

Objective B: Safeguard the Retreat
While the city of Barhuum is being besieged, the Deep Space Coalition’s ships have gathered near the Hangars of the Floating Fortress in order to facilitate a retreat and an extraction of the planet’s royal family and their best and brightest people. The fortress boasts the elite guard of the royal family and a few hundreds of Coalition soldiers to safeguard the ships. Try to aid them in keeping the Bryn’adûl who are dropping from the skies at bay.

TAGS-
BRYN'ADUL - Hraelga Nacht | Osam | Galak | Kathka Tal
DEFENDERS - Rocho | Draconis Caesar | Wyatt Morga | Trymar Caelnos

DEPLOYMENTS-

Spoiler

Objective A
Savage Drones
Brutes
Drones
Rhivaks
-
2,000 DSC Soldiers

Objective B
Brutes
Ra'maks
Syphons
Ravager Brutes
-
400 DSC Soldiers

 

[Rocho]

Location: The Front Lines
Objective: A
Allies: The Deep Space Coalition.

Rocho Krul was going to war. There was a sharp toothed smile on his face as the Trandoshan flew the mki-enforcer-multipurpose-fighter-transport towards Baros. On board the ship was his nn-2-front-droid. A powerful combat droid armed with a nn-pd-assault-rifle. Additionally one member of the-red-hunt was joining him today. Nod Muks who was an excellent pilot and mechanic. Just in case Rocho needed the ship to escape quickly. He wasn't too bothered by the fact he was not going to be heavily involved in the combat, he never really did do that as much as the others.

As they approached the planet and came out of hyperspace Rocho sensed beneath them death an destruction abound. Or perhaps, it was the future destruction. But it was what he saw that was so much worse. the Bryn'adul had filed into this planet like a horde of insects. Insects that were big enough to eat a man in a single bite. Their ships and forces too numerous too count in his swift entry. He flew his ship in the only way he could see to get inside, and had the droid and pilot stay behind, "I'll contact you if necessary. Keep the ship safe and when its time to leave we leave fast."

There was no argument about that. In a moment, Rocho was off to the battle, leaping from tower to tower to achieve the greatest vantage point. The city was riddled with pockets of defenders struggling to even stay alive let alone get their people to safety. There was such an urge to shout from the rooftops of his joining. Instead he would simply count each kill, whispering it into the comm anytime he would get one, so that Nod Muks would record it.

He leaned against the floor, or roof of the building as it was, and held the heklerkok-amr-1-anti-materiel-rifle. A weapon designed to take on enemy vehicles and large beasts. Well this time, he started aiming it towards the first Brute he saw. A glint in his eye as his breath slowed. He was a hunter, well today he was hunting the Byrn'Adul. And he was going to enjoy it. With the aim of someone who'd been shooting in war their entirely life, Rocho pulled the trigger sending the armor piercing 12.7mmx108mm Slug towards the creatures throat. A force sensitive Trandoshan soldier and hunter, one who was about to have the time of his life.


Equipment:
heklerkok-amr-1-anti-materiel-rifle in hand (extra ammunition in a bag, 12.7mmx108mm Slugs (Armor-Piercing,Incendiary and Explosive)
heklerkok-tdl-1-tempest (strapped to his back, extra thermal detonators on straps.)
heklerkok-double-barrel-shotgun-dbs (armed with slug shot holstered at his right side. Extra ammunition on belt and legs.)
t-7-vibro-brace ( left arm.)
g-11-shield-gauntlet ( right arm)
Hekler'Kok LA-2 Light Armor (Isn't wearing shoes, helmet, or gloves.)
The Beast: (worn on his left.)

 

[Galak]

Objective: B
Post: One
Allies: Kathka Tal | Osam | Hraelga Nacht |
Equipment: RAW, Barad Operations Armour, Bryn Shot

Galak jumped from cover, Radesh Automatic in hand as he fired a salvo of Spiker Rounds from his Automatic, three to four rounds each. The Humans fell in droves as the Brutes pushed, their armour and weaponry did nothing to stop the massive rounds. Some were pinned to walls, others had limbs ripped off by the sheer force of the Spikes. It was pure gore, pure war. The Coalition Soldiers couldn't hold out. Ra'maks stalked every entry, turning their Turrets into slag with their beams of energy. Rhivaks danced around the enemy tanks and tore them apart with their plasma beams.

The Coalition were dug in deep, holding the aft section of the Orbital Tower adeptly. The rest of their soldiers were split into small pockets, slowly dropping number after number. They could kill as many Drones, take out as many Rhivask with no concern to the cost to themselves but every step they thought they took was trampled over by the might of the Brute.

Their was a ferocity, a lack of care in Galak's singular eye. He didn't care for the Marauder Nacht, he didn't want to be here under her command. But that was exactly why he picked her. He'd want to get it over with, and that was exactly what he'd do. But he'd keep his Brutes alive in the process.

"They're dug in, but we'll force them out! Move! NOW!" Galak parked, moving from left to right in as they pushed up through the metal trench. Four Coalition soldiers turned the corner, hoping to flank the Brute forces push. Galak thrust the butt of his Rifle into ones face, cracking his skull and knocking him back. The remaining three managed off a few blaster shots as Galak sprayed them down with his Radesh, the first took three Spikes to his chest, crushing his ribs and organs almost instantly as he was thrown back - the second took a single shot to the face and the third was pinned to the wall, dropping his blaster in response to the pain.

Galak waltzed over, thumping his face into a crimson mush against the wall.

"Come, I cannot do all the work. Brutes, forward."

 

[Trymar Caelnos]

Objective: A
Allies: Rocho | Draconis Caesar | Wyatt Morga
Equipment: Lightsaber

The city of Barhuum was ablaze. Such carnage and destruction were foreign to Trymar, and his heartbeat rose with the rushed clattering of boots against the rough streets of the city. He had been nearby when he received the city's distress signal; clearly, he had arrived too late.

The desperate screams of slaughtered soldiers and citizens alike and the cry of blaster fire drew Trymar near to the front lines of the fight. He could not face down the army of monsters that had begun to overwhelm the city's defenders, but he could find their leader and perhaps sever the head of the snake. A disorganized foe would allow the people of Barhuum their greatest chance at survival: this was Trymar's only opportunity. His master had sent him off to prove himself, and Baros offered a pedestal on which to stand--or a coffin to bury him.

The rhythm of his heart grew to a feverish, deafening drumbeat as he drew nearer and nearer to the battlefield. Steeling his resolve, Trymar's breath grew slow, steady, calm. "I am a jedi." he whispered softly, "There is no emotion. Only peace."

Onward Trymar marched, collected and ready to do the duty of his order. He had long trained for this moment, and finally it was upon him.

Calmly, he stepped forward to face the fight of his life.

 

[Hraelga Nacht]

Objective A: Take the city
Equipment: Unarmed as usual
Post Count: 1

Drones swarmed through the streets like a wave of gushing blood and bile, ripping apart everything they saw in their path, Brutes leveled houses, delighting themselve in the screams of agony the poor unfortunate souls caught within their rampage made. However, perhaps one of the more unnerving parts of the whole battle was happening near the frontlines, where a sizeable group of Coalition soldiers had holed up and managed to take up a decent defensive position, their guns blazing and blasterbolts ripping through the flesh of many a Draelvasier approaching them.

Spoiler

Long spindly legs silently touched the top of a half broken wall, gleaming golden eyes looking down upon the group of soldiers crammed within a small defensive potion with walls covering them at all sides; a small abandoned house of some sorts it seemed. Yet as they were doing their best to keep off the threats from their front, their back, their left and their right, these soldiers seemed to be too preoccupied to look above them, as a few more shadowy silhouettes gathered near the lithe figure of a single baeduryn.

The dust and smoke of the siege was their cover, their silence their skill and what was about to come next was simply their herald of triumph.

An earpiercingly loud wail ripped through the air, a scream filled with bloodlust and ragebellowed throughout the city, as all of a sudden, the soldiers looked up in utter terror to realize what would befall upon them, when a dozen zealots lead by the one member of the Bryn'adûl leading this very conquest dropped down from the sky above. Without mercy, they started ripping through the poor soldiers like a lightsaber through paper maché. While one soldier tried to scream and point his blaster at the lithe figure at the center of the group of Zealots, her sharp talons slid through his skull like butter, throwing the lifeless corpse towards another poor sod who was trying his best to run away, yet alas, when a baedurin throws with something weighing approximately a hundred pounds, it was as deadly as a blast from an ion canon straight to the back.

"This is not enough, is this all these inferior insects could muster to bring up?" Angrily, Hraelga stomped her foot down upon a soldier who had managed to survive the entire ordeal, breaking the poor man's back in the process. Her hand calmly grabbed for the soldier's vest, reaching the snot and tear-covered face close to her own demonic visage. "Look at yourself, a heap of flesh and bone, quivering as you should before the superior species...still, if you are the best your kind can muster...I will not be satiated with this."

Nonchalantly throwing the poor human to a group of drones to be devoured, Hraelga looked at a few brutes coming at her group, telling her about some boy swinging around one of those painfull burnsticks and a few others that were tougher than these so-called soldiers. "I see... you may rough them up, but I forbid you to kill them...if they are any good, I want them."

Trymar Caelnos Rocho

 

[Rocho]

Location: Atop one of the taller buildings
Objective: A
Allies: The Deep Space Coalition, Trymar Caelnos
Enemies: The Byrn'adul. Hraelga Nacht

One after another they fell, the creatures were durable. But that was the whole purpose of the weapon. He of course aimed for the biggest ones, intending to drop them since they were the best use of the ammunition as well as could pose the most threat to the rest of the people. And then he saw them, his face lit up. The Rhivaks. These massive animals which were firing these beams of energy. He switched to explosive. Armor piercing was fine and all. But if he was going to take something like that down truly effectively, he wanted to blow the darn things brains out.

"Let's see what this baby can do." He pulled the trigger, after watching the creature for a few moments, seeing through his prowess and intuition where it should be. The bullet soared, the bullet hit it straight in the forehead, and more then the bullet exploded, the entire creature did. Tearing through nearby forces as Rocho's eyes lit up with a strange sense of surprise, and a strange sense of glee. He nearly burst into a single laugh of the fantastic-ness of it.

Oh what a wonderful mistake it was to bring those into the fray now that Rocho had discovered what they would do when hit. What glee it gave him. They were big animals, he had a big weapon, they made a big explosion, how could he possibly stop himself from singling them out. He kept an eye out, for any individuals that looked like leaders. If even a single sign of leadership from any of the Byrn'adul was shown, one whispering to another, one getting up and leading forces in any form of strategy, they'd take priority.

However those Rhivaks were just so much fun. He spotted another, adjusting his position, feeling his surroundings, feeling and seeing the path it would take. Another pull of the trigger, a pause, another explosion. Another toothy grin of a hunters glee. This was not a battlefield to him anymore, this was a hunting ground. The Byrn'adul were definitely a force to be reckoned with, but he was a Trandoshan. And a force to be reckoned with that wasn't an ally, was a hunt.

He sensed however someone aside from himself here. Someone who was with the force, an individual. They did not feel old to the force, not like someone like Jairden. But they were not completely fresh to it either. He did not yet see Trymar Caelnos but he knew he was there. And he'd keep his eye open as he scanned for more of the Rhivaks, or any leaders, to shoot at.

Equipment:
heklerkok-amr-1-anti-materiel-rifle in hand (extra ammunition in a bag, 12.7mmx108mm Slugs (Armor-Piercing,Incendiary and Explosive)
heklerkok-tdl-1-tempest (strapped to his back, extra thermal detonators on straps.)
heklerkok-double-barrel-shotgun-dbs (armed with slug shot holstered at his right side. Extra ammunition on belt and legs.)
t-7-vibro-brace ( left arm.)
g-11-shield-gauntlet ( right arm)
Hekler'Kok LA-2 Light Armor (Isn't wearing shoes, helmet, or gloves.)
The Beast: (worn on his left.)

 

[Trymar Caelnos]

Moving hastily about the city and aided by the boon of the Force, Trymar scanned streets and alleyways for signs of life, hostile or otherwise. Small packs of stragglers he dispatched easily, for they could not compete with the speed and deadliness of a jedi. A few families and lonesome civilians had still holed out in their homes, waiting for rescue; off to the Floating Fortress Trymar sent them, telling them of the most clear and safe pathways to reach it. He could not guarantee their safety, only hope that they find their way.

As he pressed forward, he found fewer and fewer innocents in need of rescue, replaced in increasing numbers by the monsters of the Bryn'adûl. He knew little of them, save for their lust for destruction and mayhem. He wondered what his master would think of him in this moment, pushing back against the tide of such wanton death and destruction. "Proud, I hope."

Just as the streets grew quiet, from hgih above, atop a floating sector of the city he heard the cries of terror ring out once more. Aided by the Force, he leapt to meet the new challenge. Spotting a new group of the invading creatures, he moved to engage it--but before he could get close, an explosion rang out and decimated their number--looking about, he could see no soldier responsible, but in its place a feeling. Concentrating, he sensed another, someone sensitive to the force, one that seemed to share his motive. He could only hope that his feelings were trustworthy.

With eyes upturned to the sky above, Trymar watched as more of the seemingly endless horde of invaders poured down from the sky. Readying his lightsaber once more, the young jedi followed the fevered pitch of battle to its source.

Hraelga Nacht | Rocho

 

[Galak]

Objective: B
Post: Two
Allies: Hraelga Nacht | Fomoris | Wrathak | Osam
Equipment: RAW, Barad Operations Armour, Bryn Shot

Galak and six of his fellow Brutes, including the Brute Fomoris moved as a unit through the winding corridor. The Humans had set up a Flak Turret position on the opposite com's tower. The small Brute Squad would move through the adjacent tower and across the elevators to flank the Long-Range Flak Turret.

The General turned into a open courtyard ahead of the Brute Unit, immediately pulling back around the turn of a corner into the courtyard. The DSC Soldiers had anticipated the flank, and had set up a shooting gallery for them. Blaster bolts crackled down, tearing holes and scorching the ground around them. Luckily, there was a staircase that would bring them out above the Courtyards defences, but it was out in the open. Galak turned to his Brutes, unable to speak over the sounds of the gunfire, he instead instructed through hand gesture - ordering the three Grenadiers to ready their Bryn Shots whilst the others would give covering from the Pillars. Fomoris and him would take the stairs and take out the entrenched position.

The Brute General gestured Fomoris, ordering him to follow up the staircase as the others moved to provide the covering fire. The General loaded his Bryn Shot as their Squad turned the corner, opening fire on the heavily defender position. As the three Grenadiers joined him, the other Brutes moved to various pillars just beyond the winding staircase. Leading the pair up the staircase, Galak moved as fast as his legs could carry him.

"Let's see what you can do, Brute Minor." Galak spoke as they clambered up the strange Human stairs, throwing the Bryn Shot down to Fomoris as he readied his RAW.

They would rid the planet of this filth, all that'd be left was scorched earth.

 

[Hraelga Nacht]

Objective A: Take the city
Equipment: Unarmed as usual
Post Count: 2

It looked like the hordes of drones were well on their way in removing any and all resistance to the west of the city, while at the east there was still some resistance to be meet by the other drones employed in this crusade. It was surprising though to hear the sound of Rhivak beasts exploding and brutes crying out in terror because of this. Most probably didn't know it, but even the Drael could scream in terror when the pain was too much, Hraelga knew this for a fact, that drael could feel fear. She was the embodiment of having had a series of bad luck and paid the price for it.

As she was clambering up one of the walls which surrounded the outpost she'd just overrun with a few of the zealots under her command, she could see that the advancement of the brutes under her command had been stifled by not just one rhivac being blown to smithereens, being used for target practice. Annoyed by this fact, the marauder started scanning the battlefield, trying to look for who or whatever was responsible for this delay in her plans. Eventually her eyes set upon a lone figure using the exact weapon which managed to pierce her carapace for the earliest and only time in her memory prior to the invasion of Maldra IV...a slugthrower they called it, shooting biting projectiles which could fell even the biggest of beasts. Somewhat alarmed by this realization, Hraelga looked down at the zealots and clacked her tongue. "have the Brutes move the Rhivaks backwards, let them swerve a bit in their path...perhaps through the east would be better, the drones have moppedup everything there. Keep an eye out for those DSC soldiers though."

tag: Rocho , Trymar Caelnos

 

[Rocho]

Location: Atop one of the taller buildings
Objective: A
Allies: The Deep Space Coalition, Trymar Caelnos
Enemies: The Byrn'adul. Hraelga Nacht

His shots were giving him quite a kick. Well, litterally as well. It was a powerful weapon. But it was the feeling of downing such beasts that was keeping him entertained. And then they changed their direction. They started swerving a bit and away from him. He let out a grunt of irritation, even for the moments they were still in range the creatures were moving to fast to be certain a shot would hit. And unfortunately there were only so many he could carry, even if he had brought a satchel for it.

However this did mean there was a problem, his sniping was being noticed. And they had a general idea of his location. This was indeed a problem. He began searching the battlefield thoroughly for potential spotters. Unfortunately, what this meant was the really big guys were all going to be out of the way, and with his position and the problem of that he had no idea where to check, he was unable to fully spot Hraelga Nacht as a leader from this distance and position, especially with all the creatures swarming. He had to divert his attention to self defense and mass destruction rather then target elimination.

He glanced into the distance, ah, there was Trymar Caelnos heading into the midst of battle. That was the force user. Well, might as well at least make use of the ammunition. He wasn't sure what he'd do with the armor piercing rounds from here, he had a focus on explosive and armor piercing. But the incendiary's weren't going to be particularly useful here he imagined. Oh well, that's a shame.

Again he readied himself, he didn't have telepathy so he could not warn Trymar Caelnos that he was an ally. But he figured he'd get the point. As he sent an explosive round into an enemy that was approaching the padawan on his right, far enough away that he was sure the padawan wouldn't be injured by it or its debris, but close enough that it was noticeably in his defense. Even as he was doing this, he kept making regular glances over his shoulder, and the surrounding area, sooner or later they'd send someone to fight him, and he needed to be waiting for them.

Equipment:
heklerkok-amr-1-anti-materiel-rifle in hand (extra ammunition in a bag, 12.7mmx108mm Slugs (Armor-Piercing,Incendiary and Explosive)
heklerkok-tdl-1-tempest (strapped to his back, extra thermal detonators on straps.)
heklerkok-double-barrel-shotgun-dbs (armed with slug shot holstered at his right side. Extra ammunition on belt and legs.)
t-7-vibro-brace ( left arm.)
g-11-shield-gauntlet ( right arm)
Hekler'Kok LA-2 Light Armor (Isn't wearing shoes, helmet, or gloves.)
The Beast: (worn on his left.)

 

[Osam]

Objective A: Take the City
Post Count: 1
Equipment: Spiker, Dagger, Basic Combat Chestpiece

With a bark for attention, Osam slowed his drone squadron to a halt, peering at a point of interest somewhere in the distance. It took a moment or two for the scene to fully clarify itself due to the extreme movement of the curiosity, but the vivid form of a savage drone and a small band of enemy soldiers quickly revealed itself. Here and there the mutant fodder bounced, its arms swinging viciously as it hacked against the inferior lifeforms, their blaster bolts sliding through the air like a miniature light-show trying to catch the hide of the creature enough to put it to death.

The Sraelvun behind their Major grew increasingly anxious, intent on fighting against whatever threat had been sighted by their immediate superior, and for what might have been the twentieth time during the engagement, Osam was reminded of the futility of patience when leading such vicious allies. The Baedurin, for their brutish nature, weren't quite so idiotic as so many of the drone-kin. Osam was within their number and knew that he at times lacked the insight of the "better" races, but among fellow drones he considered himself enlightened.

"Ahead. Follow my eyes." Osam commanded, intentionally straightening out his neck so that it pointed like the barrel of a spiker towards the distant enemy. One of the less experienced under his command immediately lifted their spiker, earning a swift kick in the ribs from the Major and an irritated growl. Such squabbling was natural among the Sraelvun, and physical testaments were a way to demonstrate dominance. Sure, Osam wouldn't have been horribly upset if the lesser had fired on the group, but it would have ruined their element of surprise, and it would have made him seem obsolete. Obsolescence meant death for their kind.

"Grenadier. Aim for the furthest. Others, fire when he fires. The savage is meat to whoever strikes best." He spoke, directing the impatient drone back to the line, awaiting the crack of their heavy weapons specialist. When the detonation rocked the field moments later, and the spikers hissed with their deathly metal, the savage vanished under the hail along with all those inferiors it had distracted.

Success was really what you made of it.

 

[Fomoris]

Objective B
Post: One
Tags: Galak Wrathak Osam

Catching the Bryn Shot tossed to him by the General, Fomoris held the lethal engine of destruction tightly, accustoming to the extreme weight difference it held from his usual loadout as well as the different design, the wicked blade at the butte of the weapon opening new avenues of lethality he was eager to explore.

Ignoring the creaks of the stairs as the Baedurin’s extreme weight clambered up, his broad shoulders taking the entirety of the space as they continued along their path. Outside, the brutal roar of combat could be heard and it chafed Fomoris to be within such strict confines. His was a purpose of bloodshed, to tear the hearts of their prey with his bare hands and fangs, not the long-range skirmishes that he knew would be coming. But, here he stood alongside the alpha predator that his general was, Galak, whom Fomoris had utter loyalty to. He would not be found wanting.

Continuing through the wreckage, the Brute looked on with distaste at the living quarters of those they slaughtered. The lack of functionality and the excess on visual aesthetic was anathema to Fomoris, for whom such trivialities as sitting areas and family dining areas were as alien to him as the culture of his people would be to them. Continuing throughout, the sound of the entrenched positions slowly began to grow louder, as the Brute squad made their way to the elevator shaft.

The small elevators were created for humanoids far smaller in build than the Baedurin and with a dismissive grunt, Fomoris cleaved his Bryn Shot blade through the wires, not even bothering to look down as the elevators below came crashing down below. With the shaft now open other than the cables hanging like vines from above, he lowered the point of the Bryn Shot, firing a single round across the opening for it to cave in the opposite wall, revealing the opposite hallway with vision upon the turret. With simian-like grace, the Brute leapt out across the shaft, his monstrous hand gripping the cable to allow his momentum to soar his mighty frame through the new doorway.

Landing heavily, he rolled aside, awaiting for the General and the rest of the unit

 

[Draconis Caesar]

KABOOM. BOOM. KABOOM.

The sound of ozone tearing as mortar rounds and other projectiles whistled through the air was deafening. In the dim dark of the hovering bunkers confines Draconis and squad sat awaiting their next set of orders. Parts of the bunker had caved in and a nearby turret emplacement kept up a constant sound of stacatto gunfire. Draconis's normally golden armor that marked him as a Sun Guard mercenary was tarnished and dented. The plastifoam within was rank with sweat and bile, but he had long sense grown blind to the stench. The Thyrsian mercenary sat in a corner with his Xiphos sword and shield laid haphazardly by his side...

Draconis stood from his sitting position, retrieving sword and board as he did so. Carefully securing the shield over his left forearm and placing the Xiphos within it's maglock scabbard upon his back. The sound of static echoed through his helmet and he knew orders were about to be given. He stretched in his power armor and with a thought his HUD came to life. Suddenly eight yellow sillhouettes sprang to life in various positions of the fortified room. They were all Intiates, their Legionaire that had been assigned to lead them had been killed in the den of battle. But, even so, they had come out mostly unscathed so far. Draconis only prayed to the twin suns that it remained so...

"Alright Initiates. You're the last Golden Company boots on the ground and as such it's up to you to see that we get paid and the customer remains satisfied with services rendered,"

STRATCOM's voice spoke through garbled helmet comms reasuredly. Or was that a tinge of pity in his voice? Whatever it was he didn't give his troops much time to think on it as he quickly continued again.

"There's a team of royal commandos cut off from the rest of the forces on the eastern edge of the city, you are to extract them and regroup at the palace where you will catch a ride out with the nobles of house Threx, you will be acting as body guards the entire time and should any of the goods come back damaged or dead, it's coming out of your pay... STRATCOM out..."

As the transmission ended a way point and route was plotted on Draconis's light holographic GPS and he knew the same could be said for the rest of his squad. As the most senior initiate Draconis was in charge, but he knew he would be lucky if he could bring half his number home. Even with their power armor and energy phalanx shields... They stood little hope against the tide of this unstoppable horde. But... At least it paid well... Draconis shook his head as his men fanned out and assumed position. Draconis opened the bunker door and was immediately greeted by the howling wind.

They were several hundred meters in the sky and would have to time the burst from their jump packs carefully. It was a text book hot drop. Draconis waved his fellow Sun Guard through the door and as the last lunged into the open air he followed, the adrenaline of battle once more beggining to flow through his veins. Flak rounds and other small arms fire exploded or zipped by them as they free fell through the air and all Draconis could do in his near suicidal descent was make himself as small a target as possible. He aimed for a clearing near the position of the royal commandos and hoped that he made it to the lost troopers before the enemies did...

 

[Galak]

Objective: B
Post: Three
Allies: Hraelga Nacht | Fomoris | Osam
Equipment: RAW, Barad Operations Armour, Bryn Shot

Galak opened fire with his Automatic; raining down a hail of super-heated Spikes into the enemy defences in a brilliant show of marksmanship. From the other side, Galak saw the rest of the Brute Squad peering out from their cover. The General signalled for them to follow, waiting as he watched the Brutes make their way toward and up the staircase on the opposite side of the Courtyard.

The General waited to drop below before the rest of his Brutes arrived, jumping across to where Fomoris had waited. "Good work, Minor Fomoris." The Brute General spoke with a nod of acknowledgement. Reloading his rifle with a full magazine to replace the empty one. The corridor was hexagonal in design, and on either side there were transparent windows. You could see how long the Corridor stretched for, it was connected all the way across from this tower to the one directly North of it. Below was mountains and many miles down below that, the City in the valley, engulfed in fire. Luckily for them, they didn't have to travel particularly far.

Before either could move, the Flak Turret opened fire from above, ripping through the Corridor walls and turning one of the Brutes into mulch.

"Lets keep moving, keep up with the pace! Hruagh." The Brute grunted as he shifted into a jog, running through the large corridor as the Flak Turret followed; tearing through the Corridor as it followed right behind them. Only a few steps more and the junction to enter the tower was ahead. Galak was the first around the corner, barrelling through the doorway into a group of Soldiers who'd been moving to flank them.

Galak threw his rifle at the first, tore the head off of the next and was shot in the shoulder by the third and fourth.

 

[Hraelga Nacht]

Objective A: Take the city
Equipment: Unarmed as usual
Post Count: 3

So, others of her kin had already noticed the lone marksman as well. It wasn't bad to let the drones such as Osam deal with this issue for now, but Hraelga still wondered if this one was the only one on this battlefield that didn't truly belong. Annoyed by another bunch of DSC soldiers running up to her position, the marauder just simply broke off a part from the wall and threw the piece of stone and concrete towards one of the soldiers, smashing the poor guy while the others got beset upon by a pack of drones.

Calling over some of the zealots, she took better cover for the moment in one of the ruined homes, thinking for now that marksman seemed to be silent, so he wasn't that much of an issue. "Our operation within the fortresses is going well...ofcourse, I still hate him for that lucky shot, but the general does deliver good work...keep an eye on Galak ." It appeared to her that so far so good, it was smooth sailing. There were some losses, but nothing unforseen or exponential either. "Oh and figure out if there are any more of these 'strange' people along those soldiers, I want to be sure we're eliminating all threats to our crusade properly."

TAG: Rocho | Trymar Caelnos | Osam

 

[Rocho]

Location: Atop one of the taller buildings
Objective: A
Allies: The Deep Space Coalition, Trymar Caelnos
Enemies: The Byrn'adul. Hraelga Nacht Osam

Further evidence of his discovery came when he noticed there were individuals closing in on his position. Though, they had a long way to go before they'd get to him way up on this building. They'd either go through the building or climb the walls, unless they were gonna try and blow it up, but that'd take time. Well, while it seemed they'd initially started heading for a group of soldiers nearby, they were mostly just attempting shots at him. Not the greatest method from this distance but he was sure they'd figure that out soon. He stepped back from the edge, setting down his rifle, lifting the tempest, aiming, and then sending a thermal detonator flying off the roof top towards the enemy below. It was a small enough projectile that it would be hard to shoot out of the air and was moving fast enough he hoped they wouldn't be able to hit it even if they did notice it.

However even if the could manage to stop the thermal detonator, he wasn't going to make it easier for them. From the direction they were at using the rifle would be extremely difficult. Aiming it down as he'd need to would require him to be well on the edge for way too long. So he was having to re-adjust how he'd take out this group of theirs.

Next option was debris, he reloaded another Thermal Detonator, regardless of how the first one hit or didn't hit. Then stepped back, and using his phenomenal strength enhanced by the power of the force, tore of a small piece of the structure that was around four feet tall and three wide, with a few jutting ends or bars left out. This he ran towards the edge and launched off with the running momentum aiming for the same group, and followed by this time a thrown Thermal Detonator, hoping that they'd be too focused on one to notice the other.

If they were going to come to him, let them come. But he was going to give them every bit of trouble before they go there.

Equipment:
heklerkok-amr-1-anti-materiel-rifle (extra ammunition in a bag, 12.7mmx108mm Slugs (Armor-Piercing,Incendiary and Explosive)
heklerkok-tdl-1-tempest In hand (Can be strapped to back, extra thermal detonators on straps.)
heklerkok-double-barrel-shotgun-dbs (armed with slug shot holstered at his right side. Extra ammunition on belt and legs.)
t-7-vibro-brace ( left arm.)
g-11-shield-gauntlet ( right arm)
Hekler'Kok LA-2 Light Armor (Isn't wearing shoes, helmet, or gloves.)
The Beast: (worn on his left.)

 

[Osam]

Objective: A
Post 2

The grenadier's far-shot had played a significant role in the destruction of the opposing squadron. As the detonation scattered the suddenly engaged band of humanoids and drove the savage drone to the ground, a series of spiker shots soared through the air, stinging into the skin and metal of the enemy. They were ripped to shreds in mere moments, their deaths preceded only by the shriek of the savage and the subsequent crack of additional spiker rounds. One by one, the hostiles collapsed to the ground, their life-force leaking out from a half-dozen fierce and gory wounds, exterminated with the incompassionate prejudice that only the Bryn'adul could manage.

Osam allowed a facsimile of a smile to crease his features at the elimination, though this was quickly erased as he recognized the continued crackle of further spiker shots. A swivel of his head revealed that one of the Sraelvun under his command; the drone who was spotted was regarded as a marksman according to the official titles, had continued to open fire upon an unseen enemy. At first, frustration and aggravation wrought through the form of the drone major, but this was replaced with an eerie curiosity, and an observation of where the shots were headed revealed the reason for their continuance.

A small object entered his vision a moment afterward, steadily growing closer as gravity brought it towards its inevitable termination against the ground. A stone? A chunk of debris blown away by an explosion? Explosion...

For all of the lesser faculties of the Sraelvun, they were particularly good at following orders, perhaps even more so than the other sub-races given their disposition towards obedience. When Osam shouted for the squad to drop to the ground for cover, they fell as if though the command had stopped their very hearts. A moment later, the rattle and fire swept through the center of the group, searing flames creeping towards each of them. Osam felt relatively unharmed, his hybrid blood having provided a substantial barrier against heat-based weapons.

"Up! Shoot!" He shrieked, directing his own spiker towards the roof and letting loose a couple of guiding shots so that his drones knew their target. A flood of fire, some more accurate than others, quickly swept the sky. The drone major used the opportunity provided by the covering fire to check the damage of the unit, acknowledging that his own grenadier had been completely cooked by the thermal detonator. The heavy armor he had worn had done little to prevent him from being cooked to the core, and the crispy touch of his meat alerted the Sraelvun leader to his death. The stench was delightfully pleasant... he would need to take a piece after the fighting had concluded.

Osam cast his eyes back up at the target, joining his allies in pouring fire towards the target en masse, though he took notice of another chunk of debris with substantially greater speed when it next appeared. Instead of bothering to try to intercept the chunk of debris, however, the Sraelvun decided on a far superior course of action. "Back! Into buildings!" Instantly, the remainder of the squad separated into two distinct groups, sprinting at their top-speed towards another pair of apartment complexes, leaving the chunk of debris to clatter against the ground where once they had stood.

Of course, the thermal detonator was far more effective, spraying debris outwards in sharp and jagged duracrete chunks, catching one of the drones nearest Osam in the back with a spray of shrapnel, and forcing him to the ground at the entrance of the structure. With a growl, the drone major yanked the downed ally inside of cover and began rapidly analyzing him for his wounds. All the while, spiker fire continued pouring out towards the hostile.

Rocho

 

[Primal Architect]

DOMINION OF BAROS
The Golden Sons of Thrysia lead by Draconis Caesar glide through the broken sky, zipping through the torrents of massive ballistics and plasma weaponry on display from the two Bryn'adûl Fleet and the Defences of Baros. The Deep Space Coalition have but few outfitted hangar bays, modified to carry heavy anti-ship weaponry and Gunship support throughout the city.

The Bryn'adûl Conquester known as the Divine Brutality leads their onslaught against the enemy, this unique vessel is outfitted with powerful Obalisc weaponry, Capital weapons capable of tearing through enemy ships. The Errindak Conquesters are all silent but for their leader, the Divine Brutality bellows in the sky, a cry of war so loud its almost a deafening shockwave across the Battlefield. The Coalition's is biding their time, doing all they can to delay serious strikes. The Divine Brutality releases a quad-beam of powerful energy, tearing through one of the Coalitions damaged towers. The tower explodes brilliantly, shards of the tower rain down on the city below; its long orbed shape cracking into scrap metal as the Tower collapses with a thundering quake spreading through the earth.

Jedi Apprentice Trymar wades through the wanton destruction, saving those he can for as long as he can against the on-coming tide. With the aid of the high-rise set sniper; Rocho; the young Jedi may yet live to survive this conflict. Overhead, Gunships are deployed to assist the City-dwelling Soldiers - but the Flak Turrets intended to defend against the enemy ships are distracted by the counter force lead by Galak and Fomoris, leaving the meagre support available to the Defenders under attack by Orkale Gunships and Phedrak Fighters. Coalition Gunships are crashing throughout the city, obliterating what small defences they have.

The fiendish Drone Osam moves to eliminate the Trandoshan whilst the powerful Marauder Hraelga leads a small strike force of Zealots alongside the main Bryn'adûl infantry against the City, cutting a swath through the Deep Space Coalitions Soldiers. Overhead, Heldrak Dropships land, delivering an entire Vanguard of Savage Drones to the battlefield, the scurrying beasts more savage than their Drone counterparts will flush out any survivors hiding amongst the wreckage. A hundred Rhivaks follow in toe, darting out from the confines of the Dropship as they tear through the enemy defences.

BRYN'ADUL - Galak | Fomoris | Hraelga Nacht | Osam
DEFENDERS - Rocho | Trymar Caelnos | Wyatt Morga | Draconis Caesar

 

[Hraelga Nacht]

Objective A: Take the city
Equipment: Unarmed as usual
Post Count: 4

Clacking her tongue, the marauder looked over her playing field. She had just climbed up one of the walls again and the sight was... glorious, but still somewhat dissatisfactory to her taste. She thought that the overwhelming force of the Bryn'adûl should've broken the defences' spirit within the first moments of contact, yet even now with Heldrak and Orkal ships flying over head and more troops pouring in every second, the defenders were showing a frustrating level of tenacity and determination which was hard to ignore even for Hraelga herself. Her Zealots were tired and needed a bit of rest after having rooted out several hot spots with precision and wonderful efficiency.

However, it were the unaccounted guests which caused her the most frustration, not the natives and not those deep space coalition soldiers that seemed to come out of nowhere, it were those few people that they hadn't counted on who were now thorn in the progress of the crusade. The fact that one had already managed to take out quite a few Rhivaks and even had managed to avoid contact a few times was disheartening and frustrating at the same time, but in a way also a bit exhillerating, for what better prey was there than those who were proficient hunters in their own right?

Hearing the Thermal detonators go off, she finally had some inkling of an idea where she could snare her trap, but she had to be careful, for this hunter was dangerous. Traversing through the ruins and debris of the city as fast as she could, she managed to cross one of the drone hordes which were sweeping the city for survivors and soldiers, cleansing everything in their path. Halting for a moment, she ran up to the group of drones trying to use covering fire to seemingly tend to their wounded. "Have any of you been able to pinpoint the location of the one using those thermal detonators?" She looked at the drones, among which there was Osam , hoping at least one of them could give her a proper answer.

Rocho

 

[Fomoris]

Objective B
Post: Two
Tags: Galak Wrathak Hraelga Nacht Osam

Sprinting after his General, Fomoris roared, his veins singing with adrenaline and combat chemicals pumping throughout his altered form, small lacerations splitting his flesh from the shrapnel around him, hurled through the air from the Flak Turrets attention as the hallway became a vicious killbox.

His monstrous lungs amplified his warcry to a deafening volume, he landed amongst the soldiers like a thunderbolt, feeling the satisfying crunch of a body turned to pulp beneath his extreme weight. With a dexterity that belied his hulking form, the Baeduring spun his glaive around him, the crimson tail following in it’s wake like a gruesome shooting star through a starscape of flesh.

Grunting, he felt the impact of shots into his shoulder, the burning pain mingled with the scent of his own blood threatening to hurl him into the red-haze of a beserkers rage. Biting his own lip to keep control, Fomoris used the pain to focus, pulling himself back from the edge.

Soon, soon I will be free to rend and tear.

But not yet, they still had a mission objective to claim and while Fomoris hungered for the chance to hurl himself at their prey, the stench of their fear and blood in the air, he would not disappoint his Chieftain or General.

Milliseconds behind him, the other Brutes charged into the soldiers, their arrival alone sending bodies flying through the air to crash into walls with bone-shattering force, others merely trampled to the ground in the wake of the Bryn'adûl’s belligerence.

While the foe may have thought to use the corridors to funnel them into a gunline, anything that was caught within their ranks would be decimated into nothing, the ghosts of their last moments standing as a monument to the fate of those who thought to stand against the Bryn'adûl.

Just like the planet itself.