Location: Royal Academy of Bastion,
Ravelin, Bastion
Objective: Defend the Royal Academy, ensure Acolytes escape and information does not fall into the hands of the New Imperial Order
Allies: The Sith Empire |
Enemies: The New Imperial Order |
Lunafreya Solidor
Equipment: “Twin Dancers,” (Dual Lightsabers), “Apostasy’s End” (Lightstaff),
Sarassian Iron Platemail,
Telis’s Legion, a handful of brave Sith Acolytes, and a whole Academy’s worth of information
Post Number: II
The marching steps of Lunafreya’s general’s armies into the courtyard played to the drum of the war outside, the same pulse as the rhythm and thrum of the city’s besieging. Behind, Aslam’s forces sought to cut off the back means of opening for the evacuation teams - a dangerous prospect, yet even more worrying was what laid in front of the school, Darkonda and his men now pushing back against the plaza’s skirmish, aided by the heavy hand of the WKRs. War machines, brought to foul the Sith-Imperial defensive and make sacrilegious grounds kept for peace and learning. Lunafreya, the phantom enemy of Aagenti now, had chosen to defile the lands that Aagenti, like a wyrm, claimed his charge. The smell of blood was in the air at the gall of the assault.
”Lord Aagenti, they’ve brought walkers to assault the courtyard, and we’re taking heavy losses. Nyx Squadron is down, Aegis, Harp, and Styx are down several numbers, but we will do our best to continue to hol-“ The sound of the Captain’s voice was interrupted by the sound of a heavy blast hitting the ground, followed by the sound of debris raining back down, more and more of the stone of the pathways sloughing off into the pool. From his position, the Captain watched as Darkonda’s forces began to push forward, seemingly unaffected by the attrition, be it from blind zeal to their mission or the heavy reinforcements of walkers. Peeking out from behind the cover of a statue, the Captain took aim with his squadron, aiming his sights at the soldiers at the front of the charge, before firing on the foremost runners, a heavy barrage of blue bolts kicking from the gun.
It was a futile attempt to stem the tide, but still the Captain and the squadron with him, Leviathan, attempted the assault, trying to simply break the front of the force from behind the meager cover they had, while the rest of the squadrons of the courtyard began to try falling back, one by one, by piercing bolts that left blackened holes from back to front, or heavy artillery that shredded their bodies and ripped limbs from torsos and helmets from necks, they were devastated, blackened ash and burnt blood glittering in the wake of each fallen commando, the Cadavarii earning their name as the corpse-soldiers of Aagenti.
From within, Aagenti kept stalwart in his stance, the sacrifice of the soldiers outside worth it for the eventual plan. Even with their slow, unwinding defense, they had not failed - every second they bought was another second’s worth of victory, and every soldier they tore down too proved that they would die victors of their task. The sting of each death was not lost on the bitter warlord, but it was numbed and crystallized into deadly-sharp focus, the kind that saw a grim situation and could imagine a victory. The kind that accepted, even pyrrhic, victory was victory, even if inglorious, callous, costly, and, if need be inhumane. The sacrifice of the warriors outside was nothing more than a distraction, and still Aagenti and his men accepted it and carried out the task. That was the beauty of valor.
”Lord Aagenti, we’ve got forces marching in on the Academy from behind… they’ve divided their firepower and are pinching us within the building.” The voice of one of the commanders of the Legion filled the relay of Aagenti’s station, her voice calm and collected as she sat perched within an upper window, looking down at the forces gathering behind the Academy. A heavy anti-material rifle in her hands, the Commander ducked away from the window after lingering in her sights for a moment longer, planting herself up against the wall as the completely dark room hid the dark figure of the Commander. Lifting two fingers and motioning to her men, the two soldiers in the classroom with her would move out towards the doors, spreading the message through the back defensive.
”They’re going to breach from behind. We’re prepared to give them hell, Lord Aagenti, but we need a plan on what to do, now. With all do respect, sir, if they break through what we’ve got set up, it’s going to be high hell for you and the crews in the basement and the archives.” The Commander would wait within the dark gloom, the only thing in her ears the sound of her own breathing, as she waited, and quietly prayed to the Force and to Typhojem. Soon the soldiers returned, nodding and taking positions around the room - the message had been delivered, and in the twilight, the barricades had been armed and guns pointed at the most direct points of entry for when Aslam’s men breached into the building.
Within the central chamber of the Academy, Aagenti took a deep breath, letting the lightsabers he held flicker off, a bright flash of red lingering in his eyesight before all that remained were small sparks on the floor. Outside the sounds of fighting did not cease, and only continued to heighten with each passing moment. Aside from the shifting of the building and the sound of a commando adjusting their mount against the walls pointing towards the door, there was only stagnancy in the heart of the sanctum. Both the Captain and the Commander waited, anxiety baited on everybody’s breath within and without the Academy. Eventually, again, Aagenti spoke, his voice filled with purpose and clarity.
”Captain, rally what men you have left and fall back to the cover you can closest to the school. I want everything you have to fire on those walkers, that is the main priority above all other things, and if they get the chance to fire on the school, our purpose will be lost. Whatever it takes, take down those walkers!” Aagenti’s voice carried clearly. Standing as still as a statue, Aagenti kept his eyes on the door, taking a deep breath as he listened closely, the Force guiding his senses and hopefully bringing to him a new sound as the battle outside shifted while all things remained isolated and safe within.
Outside, in the heart of chaos between the screams and cries of agony and ‘Medic!’, the Captain nodded, quickly pulling his gun away from blaster formation and into the anti-vehicle grenade launcher module, the Leviathan squadron members closeby following in suit. Raising a hand above his head with four fingers straight before Giving it a quick circle, the Captain took his rifle in his hands, broadcasting to the comms of all the few squads that remained.
”Alright, rally back, form up and don’t let them catch you in a cluster! Retreat isn’t an option until those walkers are down, and I don’t think I’ll have to make it any more clear than it already is!”
For a few moments, hiding behind the covering and taking shelter from the fire that barraged them, the NIO forces would find a reprieve, a passing second as the Commandos focused on, one by one, transitioning their guns. The Captain was the first to lead the retreat to the final back line, moving as though through hell and high water, feeling the sudden onslaught and the focus on him, the ground erupting around him and behind him in a shower of sparks and cracking stone flechettes, embedding into his knees and up his back. He could feel the warm blood starting to drip with his sweat from the force of the splinters and shrapnel, still continuing with Leviathan squadron as, one by one, the commandos fell back to the final line.
And after a brief pause behind the last few pedestals, another dreadful, ticking moment, there came a sound like a dozen rocks being flung from steel pipes. All at once, from the final line, came a barrage of grenades once more, each commando firing a triad of the munitions before ducking, reloading, and then firing again. Each grenade, however, wasn’t aimed into the heart of the swarm, but rather each side focused on one of the distant walkers, Grenades landing by the feet of the machines, blowing deep chasms into the stone and sending marble and fusion blast back into the swarm. A rare lucky few, perhaps, would even arc right into the path of the walkers, as the commandos once more fell under fire, relying on the cover they had to protect them and praying that what they had would be enough to take down the titans that divided them from a full retreat.
Within the building, the sound of explosive volleys brought a passing glimpse of a smile to Aagenti’s face, hidden by the sheer darkness of the Academy, before he turned his attention to the Commander who still waited, watching as Aslam’s forces grew closer to the back of the school. Aagenti had a plan, but in order for it to succeed he needed all the cards he had to fall in line, and that would require a whole large margin of luck. Closing his eyes and reaching out through the Force, Aagenti traced the presence of the commandos reinforcing the back doorways of the school, reaching to try and see, with his own mind, just where Aslam hoped to come. Skin pale, as he reached more and more, he eventually felt the shift and sway of the marching soldiers, and in his mind’s eye he could see a vestige of what the Commander saw from her hidden roost.
In his mind’s eye, he could see a plan.
”Commander, I need you to remain where you are in your position, but order the back defenses to sabotage the doorways and the back walls. Set up ordinance on the second levels as well, and make sure that the front most lines are evacuated. As soon as the first breaches occur, light the fuse and send the wall upon their ranks… then befall them like hellions. As soon as they’re fracture, retreat deeper into the building, but don’t let them nurse their wounds. We know this place better than they do, never let them pin your men down.” Aagenti’s hand rose as he poke, slowly curling into a fist as he left the image, his smile fading into a stern expression of somber power. He could feel the metal claws dig into his palms, piercing the skin and letting the blood drip down his hands and arms, drip-dropping eventually onto the floor below him in a hidden display of bloodletting.
The Commander, from her perch, would nod, relaying the words to her men and watching them leave once more. The two commandos rushed down the steps to deliver the order, and in a shrouded flurry, the commandos began to orientate along the wall explosives, mines meant for breaching through the doors of the Citadels, explosives meant to span what they stuck to and truly bring down structures. The fortifications too close were pushed forward into the closest doors, acting as barriers, as the Cadavarii acted like one single-minded machine, preparing, rearranging, and then retreating, lying in wait while the walls were hooked up to a single trigger, swiftly delivered to one of the commandos that moved to the back of the defensive hive-line.
Upstairs, alone, the Commander once more settled into her hidden sniping crook, looking down her score as the commander’s men marched ever closer to the door. Her breathing steady, she had trained her youth in marksmanship, and it came to her naturally, the feeling of the rifle no different than the hunting gun she shot birds with, the gun she shot wild beasts with, the gun she shot men with. One eye closed and the other eye pressed to the scope of the gun, the Commander would send one final message to Aagenti.
”Lord Aagenti… what do you want me to do?”
”The New Imperial Order love their commanders… if they wish to siege us, then we must prepare to let them break before we do. With the wall gone, there will be a blatant opening on both sides, and there’s only one way to ensure that they won’t win if they try to push us from the back.” Aagenti would let his hand drop, the blood still tracing down his fingers, congealing at the tips with the frost that gathered on his claws, his eyes set on the door as the thrum of the explosions continued to rock the school, more and more of the decorated and cut marble blasted into black dust and soot, nothing remaining but scorched ground and severed, broken bodies.
The Commander nodded, understanding the grim topic without need for a true explanation. Lowering her gun, she looked through the heads of the group, landing her sights on whoever was the best armored, the most decorated, wearing the signs of a commander or a general or anything, past the walkers, past the leader and his march, all the way to the far back, setting her crosshairs on Aslam’s head far behind the approaching force. Her finger was poised on the trigger, the slightest bit of give as she pressed it down until it was taut, one small quiver away from firing.
”Sir?”
”Fire when ready, Commander.” Aagenti would grimace as he looked out the door, feeling the fight on two fronts grow nearer and nearer. Above and behind him, the Commander let the trigger fully click, the gun firing and shattering the window, while Aagenti’s hands balled into fists at the approaching bloodbath. The hardest choices required the strongest wills, and as Aagenti stood in wait, the Commander above him returned to the comforting shadows, like a true killer refusing to see whether her blow brought grief or there was a distant mercy, and the Captain before him feeling the waning strength as he continued to fire, letting the fire in his lungs burn into a shout of bloody defiance at the force that sought to destroy his tomorrow.
