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Location: Shuttle
Allies: TSE
Enemies: SJO
Objective: Land and spread fear
Gear: Armor, Scythe, and Ring War Mount and Armor
Aedan sighed as he knelt in a shuttle flying near to the one occupied by the Emperor of the Sith and his Dark Hand two men Aedan has fought alongside as far back as he can remember. It seemed somethings never changed as he knelt there Aedan focused reaching out with the force as he let it surround him. Before his kneeling form a ring that seemed to emit an aura of fear even before he put it in hovered just even with his torso, at his side rested the haft of his scythe the Ori'ramikda wood gleaming balefully as it rested waiting to be taken up, and in the pandora sheathe at his side rested the blade of his scythe the Hurlothrombic capsules in it filled and ready for use even as more of them rested in secured pouches within his borrowed armor. The armor he had borrowed from Darth Carnifex
was heavy even heavier than he was used to but it was sturdy he had taken a few days to get used to moving in it going through combat forms with his scythe in ships while in hyperspace and growing used to the way the armor felt around his form.
Even as the shuttle approached the planet Aedan reached out farther with the force to the slightly larger freighter following behind the shuttle crewed by his clan whom were transporting his battle mount Deimos to the field of battle. The dragon that had been modified by Skorvek
. It like its rider at times emitted a fear Aura making it the optimal mount for Aedan to use which was brought to light as he reached out letting his force presence wash over the large beast calming it as he knew it disliked travelling in enclosed spaces but this was the safest way to get it to the ground or at least into atmosphere. The ring moved as Aedan opened a hand coming to rest in his palm causing him to curl his ungloved fingers around it the gloves of his armor resting alongside him waiting for him to put the ring upon his fingers thus letting his presence flow into it. Finally he opened his eyes as a pilot chimed in through the intercoms. "We are preparing to land standby to exit the shuttle at our signal."
(HE wants to be tagged to read it ignore Muad Dib
)
While the majority of the sith forces were preparing for their assault she decided to take a more stealth like entry, As she had one of the shuttles drop of her off on the roof top using the force to soften her landing so that she wouldn't make any noise as she trotted along the roof till she found a point where she could carve her way in she wanted to grab some playthings before the rest of the sith hogged all the fun she hopped in and looked around abit first before moving down she sensed a few possible victims not far from her and wanted to say hello. She was smiling with joy at the prospect of meeting more jedi and toying with them she even kept the dagger of one of them that she fought and captured during the Thyferra campaign so long ago and she was itching to battle once again. She walked down the halls the blaster in her hand her sabers where kept where she could reach them with ease as she walked looking for anything she can blast, smash or break along the way as she began her hunt. The prey was found and now it was time for the predator to begin their hunt before the grand feast. She only hoped the Jedi she met would satisfy her and be some amount of entertaining.
There were few others that the Emperor could fully trust with maneuvering his personal forces, but the Shadow Hand was his confidant in all things; his right hand, the harbinger of his wrath, and the arbiter of his judgment. Now that judgment had fallen on Kintan, and the power of the Sith Empire now darkened the skies like a plague. Already the dejarik pieces were being moved into position, concise and synchronous; exactly as the Emperor and his top generals had planned. All that remained was to ensure that each operation was carried out fully.
The Emperor's shuttle was designed for such combat operations like this, so even as the flak cannons of Kh'aris opened up on the craft as it soared in on approach the forward shields held firm. Unfortunately, the shuttle wouldn't linger long enough for the defenders to concentrate their fire upon it, as the disembarkation ramp opened up just at the opportune time to deliver its payload.
Two Sith Lords.
The Emperor and his Shadow Hand plummeted through the open air, lightsabers ignited as they fell. It was the Emperor who would be the first to land, the ferrocrete crackling under the impact of his descent as he landed. The defenders of the section of wall the Emperor had landed on trained their weapons on the Sith Lord, their fingers about to squeeze down on the trigger to open fire. With a wordless thought, they were flung up into the air and their bodies broken and contorted into impossible shapes before being flung up and over the wall to land down below. The next group of soldiers rushing out to engage were broken just as violently when the Sith Emperor let loose a bellowing roar, a blastwave of sonic energy smashing into the ramparts and scattering them to the wind.
The advance to the fortress had brought a few thoughts and realizations to bear within the mind of Lorale, some he would have rather not discovered:
One - Without the aid of Kascalion, he was as good as dead within the cacoon of metal and would suffer death without glory, regaling, and memory; a skeleton entombed within the results of his own recklessness. He hated this feeling, doubly so as Kascalion was always the one to save him since they were children. Without him, Kehotu-Yshi would have taken complete control, and the Puppet Raptious would have lived forever.
Two - His hunger for battle was unlike any time before this day, so much so that the idea of slaughtering all within the fortress, even innocents, enticed him like a drug.
Three - The defending Jedi were greatly outnumbered by the advancing Sith-Imperial forces, more so now as Carnifex and the Shadow Hand, Braxus Zambrano, had just descended upon the massive wall to eradicate those upon the ramparts.
Lorale chuckled slightly at the sight, watching as the worthless supporters of the Jedi fell in bushels by the dozen and tightening his grip on the hilt of the Wolfblade. Soon he would join that slaughter and allow his Pirekead, who had begun to growl and grunt in anticipation, to disembowel, dissect, and dismember to victory.
His eyes soon fell upon the gate pelted by the barrage of artillery emanating from the main Imperial forces which numbered in the thousands still, even when large portions of the invading personnel were occupied with the conquering of New Kalandra (i.e. Realization Three). Of course, he had to remark fondly on the spirit of the defenders for, despite the orbs of explosives falling upon them, they fought with all their worth despite, hopefully, knowing they were doomed to fall as they had nowhere to retreat without compromising the Fortress. He admired this. In fact, he respected it. He would give them a warriors death.
And thus he was upon them in mere seconds, his speed belittling the massive armor and weapon he bore to the battle. The blade, finely sharpened to an edge capable of slicing stone and metal as if they were butter, carved through several of the defenders in moments. Backslash, spinning strike, overhead strike, backstep, sidestep, stab, slice, jump, slice, bisect, decapitate. All the while, artillery rounds burst around him, killing more of the soldiers aiding the Jedi and threatening to injure the Icebound Monarch who laughed gleefully as his armor, once pristine and shining with a frozen aura, was now coated in dirt and blood and radiated an insanity not seen in the man since his days as Darth Raptious. Even the Pirekead, who had just as eagerly joined the battle alongside their lord, were unsettled by the laughter and roaring.
"Brother!" Kascalion shouted to grab the Wolf of Noxis' attention, his voice carrying for nearly a mile. "Would you please leave the artillery zone?"
Upward slash. "Apologies Kascalion! I am afraid I cannot."
These were the words he wanted to say but could not as he suddenly found himself, along with his Pirekead, pulled feet first out of the firing range, his brother having utilized the Force to do what Lorale would not. "When I say leave, you leave," the Devil Lion growled deeply, his eyes furrowed and blazing red with uncontained irritation.
"Nu uma emkirsk sra Lurd Mumorcr! (No one insults the Lord Monarch!)" shouted the largest of the present Pirekead, her wristblades swinging and aimed for the neck of the Proxy. Only Lorale's intervention prevented the death of the foolish woman, his blood-soaked gauntlets gripping her arms and throwing her to the ground.
"Enough!" shouted a new voice, drawing all eyes to an approaching woman adorned in black robes decorated with silver armor and a hooded half-mask, her eyes yellow like the sun and her hair as white as snow. Xan Imcro.
"Sister..." Lorale grunted, extending his hand to shake hers. "Why are you here? How are you here? You were imprisoned upon Gal-"
The woman smirked and looked back and up at the descending ships, "Kascalion snuck me aboard your vessel. I came down with the newest deployment of your Vulfen. Couldn't resist the fight."
"Kascalion, never do that again," Lorale hissed as the Devil Lion uttered a rare chuckle. "So what do we do now?"
Xan crossed her arms and thought, clicking her tongue and tapping her feet as artillery and soldiers whizzed by, "We can wait here to march with the main force, or we can go blazing upon the wall with your laddy Emperor."
Before Lorale could give his own answer, Kascalion slapped the back of his brother's head and answered for both of them, "We wait for the full force and advance with them. I'm not having this fool and his blind followers get themselves killed...again."
Post 4
Location: Outside New Kalandra City, Artillery Lines
Objectives: Engage Wyatt Morga
Allies: Irveric Tavlar
, Darth Bellum
Enemies: [RP Coordinated] Wyatt Morga
, Lanik Dawnstar
, [Additional:] Reggie Faayare
, SJO in New Kalandra
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As her Sith Knights flooded forward, closely followed by red clad troopers providing kill-zone overwatch, the two waves provided a cycle crimson saber close-quarters and bombarding blaster fire. But, resistance was strong. Particularly from a Jedi Master (Wyatt Morga
) that had taken on her knights and cut through them with a clear mastery of his movements and manipulation of the Force.
The light was strong with him and it guided his hand in rhythms of death and righteous devastation. Voyance watched and studied, taking her time approachin, as was her right, as her subordinates' undisputed overlord. She strode towards him and fixed her golden gaze on his movements.
The darkside spoke to her, it gave her focus and demanded that the imbalance be rectified. Voyance summoned it into the hand that held her ignited double-sided lightsaber beside her. The Force permeated into the blade’s hilt and then throughout the rippling and crackling red beams.
Curling her arm back she lunged forward with a big step and then snapped her body forward. Voyance shot the saber out in a whirling red Force throw. It sent the saber spinning in a targeted attack. But, the blade did not fling itself over the battling hordes of Jedi and Sith.
It instead hugged close to the ground, not more than a foot or two. It swung around the fighting, out of sight and low. Spinning and splattering plasma lava as the Mustafarian crystal hummed and wheezed. All the while Voyance guided it with her mind as she broke into a Force sped sprint up the other side in a wide arc.
Together the saber and its dark master would converge on the Jedi Master in a pincer. The saber would strike first and Voyance would be there behind him to catch the blade, delivering an immediate following blow. There would be no rest, no moment of calling to the light, Voyance’s darkness would smother it – with malice and violence.
It was painfully understandable that the younger generation was filled with fear and uncertainty. The young girl he counseled now went to take up arms in defense of her home. It was sad that she had to do so, sad that any of them did. Was was inevitable, and Jedi had their place in it, but no enjoyment of fondness to be found there.
He made no effort to stop them. The Force moved things by its will, and while there was light, there was still darkness. There would always be those who made this nightmare a reality. That gave them all a reason.
But, the soft, sweet sentiment that came from the girl only brought a sad smile to his face as she drifted further from him. Don't die...
Jerek watched until she was gone, then sighed. Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose. They were the words of Master Yoda, but they were used far and wide by every Jedi since. For Jerek, his life had been one of those things.
Just like these children, Jerek had watched his own temple come under attack.
But there was a difference. Now, Jerek had the strength and the ability to take action. If his life were forfeit in the effort, he'd made peace with that. A Jedi's life is sacrifice.
The Knight slowly rose once more and headed for the hallway. He could feel it encroaching, almost like a sickness. There were many of them, all hungry and mad for blood. The Sith had stirred their cultists and acolytes into a frenzy and now sought to unleash them on mere children and innocent bystanders.
The task fell to him to seek out the sources, and to strike back.
He looked to the reptilian man who regarded him moments before at last, once he reached the doorway. "Everything is in place," he replied evenly. "The Silvers have been laying preparations for this moment for some time, and the rest of us who came to reinforce the effort are either here or on their way."
There was such an emphasis on the conflict here, it swayed and churned with uncertainty and heavy, thick emotion. Jerek knew the lure of the Dark side where it crept closest. "May the Force be with you," he said at last.
With any hope, the other Knight would find wisdom in the old adage.
Position: Northern Siege Lines ; Sith Artillery Batteries Objective: New Kalandra - Eliminate The Jedi Ambush Allies:Darth Voyance
- The SIth Empire Enemies:Wyatt Morga
; Lanik Dawnstar
[Coordinated] - Jedi Coalition Theme
------------------------------------------------------------
Blaster fire shredded through a strong majority of the militiamen, the Legionnaires taking palpable losses from the initial shock of the attack but swiftly organized into defensive positions, laying down heavy blaster fire from behind hard cover emplacements where-ever they could find them. Though the encircling was able to overpower a stray few of the Jedi Knights, they were extremely competent warriors all the same, many of them delving into the trenches to wreak havoc among the artillery batteries.
A few of the guns were overpowered and disabled but still the beating heart of the Imperial siege continued to thump loudly in the distance, heavy shells and rockets continued to slam into New Kalandra. Though with the originally sighted in targets resorted to rubble the volleys began to shift to indiscriminate bombardment as each second the jedi made ground into the trenches.
Peering below into the dug in positions Tavlar ground his teeth harshly before speaking into his helmet comms once more ; communicating one of the companies he'd left to defend the artillery positions as the armored spearhead started to close the gap with the city, allowing the more strategically vital artillery positions some reprieve as the city had to juggle target priority from the advancing armored formations and the heavier artillery guns which still rained hellfire over them.
"Major. Put two sections into the trenches. We need the guns cleared." Tavlar ordered firmly to his subordinate. Despite the clamor and chaos about him, of earth being moved from concussion rifles as they blasted away at Jedi militiamen or the harsh, torturing cuts of agony as his own legionnaires were cut down by blue and green saber blades he was at peace in the violence. Crucifying his contemplative consciousness in order to utilize rigid, mind-breaking training, gut and instinct instead.
With twenty or so legionnaires at his flanks collectively he jumped into the trench. His Big Iron held eye his eyes scanned the carnage before he clasped the grip of the hand cannon tightly, pressing the palm of his off hand into the dead space his main hand couldn't cover on the pistol grip before sending a round down range, the verpine flechette shredding the parcelled body armor of one of the militiamen, slamming his back against the opposite trench wall.
All but immediately after his ear picked up the characteristic sound of a lightsaber burning through plasteel and flesh, Tavlar snapping his gaze to see a Jeid Knight pull his blade from the chest of a trooper in his Legion's colors before kicking him to the mud. He found himself clenching his teeth once more before hefting his gun up with one arm, sending another heavy round down range where it bit into the Jedi's chestplate, causing the Duros Knight to let off a loud roar of pain before shifting his attention to the Major General.
Before Tavlar could squeeze the trigger again he had to jump backwards, evading a downwards cut from the jedi. The swift action nearly made him fall into the mud to a certain death as he felt his back slam against the opposite trench wall.
The Knight lunged toward him outright, extending his entire arm and body in the process, leaving Tavlar to jolt to the side, the end of the light saber crashing into the metal supports of the trench. That split second of time let the General slam the pistol downwards unto the Jedi's extended arm. The bone breaking force of the pistol slamming against the alien's flesh caused the knight to drop his saber, from there Tavlar closed the gap, surging toward him where he'd force the release of his knuckle mounted vibroblade just as his fist collided with the Duros' jaw, sending the blade into his throat with a blood curdling scream, the Jedi clutching the spilling wound in intense suffering before he was granted a swift coup-de-grace via a verpine flechette to his temple.
Taking up the Jedi's light saber, Tavlar fastened it to his belt, the blood stained visage of his helmet peering up to see the advance of Lanik Dawnstar
and his token crew. Clasping the pistol grip of the handcannon, the Imperial Officer cracked off five shots as he began to pace slowly backwards with careful footing.
"No, all we needed to do regarding that artillery position was to buy time for our own assault by a different unit; by the time our allies arrive there, our risk of collateral damage is too high of these allies being caught in the crossfire!" Jessica vehemently shouted, referring to Tavlar's positions.
The first strike led to the Jedi taking some casualties, but not enough to seriously compromise the ability of the Silvers to fight off the Sith and... Eternal Empire armies; however, some city blocks in the outer precincts were razed as collateral damage from enemy artillery attacks. If the latter, taking out other artillery positions, airborne forces even, would help greatly in protecting the civilians as they are being evacuated, she thought. In the meantime, the other enemy forces were taking up positions, in preparations for an attack on the fortress. The Blackblade Guard. The heavy-duty exterminators of the Empire; she knew they weren't invincible, they just needed to face someone competent. And also on the tactical display was another force, and she could even sense some dark presence somewhere in the fray, as if they were bringing some Sithspawn to bear to deal with the fortress' artillery or its garrison. And, of course, the heavy artillery brought in by the Eternal Empire to effect bombardment. Then again, the fortress' garrison started an airborne attack run on the enemy artillery; the sensor systems were setting priority targets for their own artillery. The Sith faced enemies with some grasp of combined-arms operations, especially airpower, on several occasions; they still seem to be light in airpower or anti-aircraft! she thought, before the enemy landing craft and escorts came under fire from ground-based anti-aircraft emplacements, when they finally come within range of the city's anti-aircraft forces. They would be met by quad-lasers and concussion missiles containing triple-stage tandem charges.
"Threats to the fortress are also threats to the city's civilians! We need artillery to change targets and fire at the forces besieging the fortress; enemy anti-aircraft are the priority targets! Once we have softened up the enemy anti-aircraft, we can then call in another airstrike!"
"I need backup fighting these Sith forces at the edge of the city, need to make sure that the Sith don't attack the civilians from behind as they are escaping!" WelshPsych
explained over comms, after the latter fired a handful of explosive arrows.
"We resort to hit-and-run strikes! We use field artillery to fire at pockets of infantry and then have the field artillery retreat behind our own armored units until other units arrive. Also, we need infantry units to cover the civilians' retreat!"
In that volley, the heavy mortars fired airbursts mostly centered at enemy anti-aircraft batteries, with ordnance whose blast radii are much larger than a single anti-aircraft emplacement, and hopefully other forces caught inside the blast would also feel the detonation from the airbursts, be it infantry, vehicles or other assets. And then, because the proton rockets are faster than mortar shells, these would be fired later. Once the time has come to fire proton rockets as part of counter-battery fire, the targets included partially anti-aircraft, but there were also other artillery emplacements fired at, and arcing all over the sky. Hopefully these big fat proton rockets, and heavy mortars, will score enough firepower kills on artillery or anti-aircraft to cause them to diminish the threat they cause to the civilians while the evacuation gets underway, she thought, while several teams were doing their utmost to get the civilians to hit the road or maybe even get to off-world safety. Meanwhile, to draw the enemy into the areas where there are few, if any, civilians left, MobileMortar-4s were firing light, 60mm mortars at pockets of infantry, and then, because of the MobileMortar-4s being mostly swoops with a mortar (or missile launcher, or even a repeater cannon, depending on which vehicle version), they could go back to positions where machinegun and/or sniper nests are, or even armored units, at speeds most other ground vehicles couldn't match in an urban environment outside of recon vehicles. Infantry was also on the move to cover the civilians' retreat, after the mortar volley.
"Commencing attack run!" a torpedo bomber pilot announced, while firing another energy torpedo at a different artillery emplacement.
Yet, moving around from one siege line to another siege line wasn't instant, even with aircraft; calling in an airstrike when they were trying to deal with the anti-aircraft fired at them from the first one meant, at best, that priorities have changed. Once again, torpedo bombers fired the opening salvo of energy torpedoes at enemy vehicles and artillery at longer ranges, with the remaining ordnance coming up next. These humongous bombs were dropped from strategic bombers, raining down huge explosives onto the enemy siege positions (but the sheer size of the resulting explosions meant there was no such thing as a pinpoint attack and the bombs needed to be dropped in the middle of the formation, rather than at the periphery as could be done with energy torpedoes). In the end, the enemy besieging the fortress is going to have a hard time to assault or bombard it. However, Jessica couldn't help but feel, in the Force, the deaths of not only civilians but also friendlies in all areas where fighting was underway. Their recklessness in their thirst for blood will be their undoing on Kintan, she thought.
Location: Northern Siege Lines
Viewpoint: Nikto soldiers
Engaging: Karina Lowe
The main thing with mortars was that the need to take cover was different from what went on if direct-fire weapons were used. Yes, the enemy was intent on destroying a rooftop mortar, but the Nikto mortar crew would need to aim the mortars at the line of bombed-out shanties the enemy took cover in. They worked the weapon as if they were about to fire their last shot, as it may very well be the case. To make things worse for the enemy, not only rooftop mortars were trained at the advancing enemy column, but some swoop-mounted mortars also came into range. When both kinds of mortar fired at enemy positions they were intent on digging into, the enemy armor was still out of range of the swoop-mounted missile launchers, but it was just the beginning. Once the lighter mortars were fired, the swoops fell back but machineguns were not fired until they had some assurance there were exposed hostiles in the wake of the barrage of mortar fire.
Had heavy weapons infantry fire at the enemy vanguard inside the city
Had anti-aircraft fire at the enemy landing craft
Fired mortars and proton rockets at the enemy closing in on the fortress (Tacitus, Prazutis, Taeli) including but not limited to, anti-aircraft
Had field artillery conduct hit-and-run attacks on enemy infantry (all)
Had some infantry units cover the civilians' retreat
Dropped heavy plasma bomblets, large bombs as well as energy torpedoes on the besieging forces
Acaadi was no longer inside the hallways of the fortress. He stood on a walkway, looking to the dusk skies. Even against the faded pastel shades he could see the black daggers of the sith fleet, hanging over them ominously.
His dark eyes slowly fell to the saber in his hand. It was an elegant weapon. A curved hilt with intricate details etched into the hilt that matched his traditional tattoos. Its sister was at his belt, the same design but emitting a shorter blade for his off-hand. They seemed so small to the weight of machinery that had come to their door.
Acaadi had been leaning to listen to the Force instead of telling it what to do. Slowly he had become more balanced, more controlled. Restrained, but accurate. The Force told him that he was meant to be here, but not for which specific moment. He saw violence ahead of himself and felt an ever encroaching fear of letting his friends down.
Today, his battle would be personal, regardless of what arrived at their door.
It wasn’t long before the Commander had regrouped with a smaller element of rangers from Hades, his soldiers surrounding him during their movement through the corridors of Kh’aris. He’d use the rangers as a guiding force navigating through the tunnels, due to Valkren paying more attention to the command channel at this point. A flurry of words and orders were coming across from different team leaders and Jedi masters, it seemed as if the evacuation of the civilians was well underway. At Least he wouldn’t have to personally worry about any of that coordination- he had plenty of faith in his allies in Kalandra, as well as those officers in the command tower at the fortress.
His faith was in them all, and even though he was sure they could use his assistance in coordinating the large-scale scene of this newly-erupted battle, he couldn’t keep himself away from the frontline of Kh’aris.
He wasn’t about to let his rangers fight without their commander.
“Kh’aris actual, Raider 1-1. Note callsign change to Hades 1-1. Taking a few shooters to the front in hopes of bolstering the defenses.” Valkren called out, glancing down to check for a charge pack in the rifle he secured during their trip to the armory.
“Raider 1-1, Kh’aris actual: Confirming callsign change. Good luck out there commander.” The transmission was curt, and cut out almost immediately after an enemy round slammed outside of the fortress. The ground seemingly shook, forcing himself and the others within the corridor to stabilize themselves before continuing their movement to the front lines.
“Icarus 1-1, how copy?” Valkren sent out a transmission to Beltran Rarr
, hoping to reach one of his close teammates and allies before they met any contacts.
It might have been too late, as some of the new transmissions he caught wind of were speaking of sith closing in- or possible within? He wasn’t sure, things were beginning to get chaotic.
And in moments of chaos, it takes everything to be sure the soldiers around make it home.
Outside of Kh’aris, the Devildogs were well entrenched. The Bengal tanks they were attached to had found their related dug into ‘foxholes,’ concealing most of their tracks to turn into a literal emplacement. The rangers of the 666th were now picking spots along the trench-lines that surrounded the fortress. Members of the 6th Kintan local force were also joining this mass of rangers, hoping to reinforce their front lines as much as possible.
Back inside, Valkren sent away two rangers from his team to move to the caverns below the fortress. He knew the mass amounts of legionarre droids were probably being watched over by the local forces as well. He wasn't entirely sure if the officers wanted to make use of them yet, but it would at-least be a nice fall back option.
"Sir!" One of the stray members of Hades suddenly appeared, weapon dangling from his chest sling during his sprint. "We've got Sith on some of the walls!"
Valkren cursed at himself from behind his visor, seemed like they couldn't just help at the front lines yet. They'd have to be sure these sith didn't bring any troops into the compound itself.
"Let's move gents!" While more of Hades platoon continued to join up with him while they could, Valkren led them further into the corridors, awaiting to hear where exactly the first enemy breach was at before deploying himself and his men as effectively as possible.
The siege seemed to be proceeding smoothly as friendly forces began to advance slowly on the capital while Vexen observed from the bridge of his invasion fleet. He would speak as he ordered a precision orbital strike, targeting the city's starports in an attempt to dissuade any notion of escape, the cannons of Gehenna Fleet warming up as they stood by for the order to fire. An officer seemed to perk up from their station as they raised their voice to inform the Sith general of an update on the situation, " Sir, Mandalorian vessels have been detected in the system and have launched fighters. " Vice Admiral Jaisal Koruuna at Vexen's side would cock an eyebrow as he spoke, " The Mandalorians? I would have thought they would have preferred to hide under their rocks after we laid waste to them on Mandalore. Also given their reputation and events on Umbara, why would the Jedi even consider their help? " The Vice Admiral would turn to Vexen as he spoke, " What shall we do about them? " Vexen continued to keep his gaze locked on Kintan as his vococded voice spoke, " They may join the Jedi present on Kintan in extinction. Their fleet is of little consequence to us. Inform Darth Athora
of their presence and provide her with support if she requires it. For now, form a blockade and keep their evacuations vessels on the planet from fleeing the system with The Flauros and The Vapula. Ready my ship as well... "
Vexen would turn as he began to leave the bridge, leaving his naval counterpart to handle the situation. Koruuna was a trusted individual with an excellent service record and had accompanied Vexen in every major Sith military campaign. He would carry out his duties without error. Alarms were blaring throughout the interior of all the ships in Gehenna Fleet as preparations for making planetfall were underway. The initial wave of troops deployed had already made their way to the surface, establishing defensive points for landing, erecting newly designed Liskarm Pattern Shields to provide a protective shield domes for troops to rally under that would shelter them from artillery and bombs as they prepared for the main invasion force's arrival. With the Silver Jedi having started to attempt bombing runs on friendly positions, the first wave of Sith Starfighters that had arrived with the initial troop reinforcements would scream across the sky as their heavy laser cannons filled the sky with laserfire. Anything with the mere notion of trying to take off from the ground or contest the skies at present time was likely to be pursued by several squadrons of TIE/sk Air Superiority Fighters. Meanwhile, far above in low orbit would hover several Ajunta Class Star Fortresses taking aim and targeting enemy defensive positions, ready to rain Advanced Spread Proton Bombs with secure, encrypted communications being sent to friendly forces on the ground to be aware of incoming ordinance from above.
Vexen would arrive in the hangar, standing on a raised platform as neatly organized rows of troops turned in unison to face him. His ever-loyal Ravager Batallion stood at attention, clad in crimson armor as they prepared for their arrival on the battlefront. Vexen would unclasp his hands from behind his back as his thunderous vocoded voice boomed across loudspeakers, his image on display on holoscreens in the vessels across his invasion fleet, " Sons and daughters of the Sith Empire, today we remind the Galaxy that we are to be feared, that no enemy who rises to fight us can stand a chance against our superior might. Today New Kalandra burns, and with it, any hope for the Jedi as they realize how feeble their attempts are in stalling our advances as we march to their headquarters. on Kashyyk. Let Kintan be a stepping stone to our great achievements as soldiers, as warriors of a greater cause! " Vexen would raise a fist up as his troops responded with the thunderous stomping of boots on the cold metal floor as they raised their fists up. Vexen's lightsaber would fly from its magnetic storage plate at his belt and into his hand as he ignited the crimson blade and swung it, pointing it out towards the planet of Kintan, " Fight and die for a greater cause. Let the weak be culled from existence and the meek erased from history. Seize victory with your own hands and let none stand in your way! " Vexen's troops would turn in unison as they boarded their ships while Vexen himself made for his own personal shuttle, ready to make his appearance on the ground and see how the situation was being handled with his own eyes.
New Kalandra, in a troop-transport. [Objective]:Insert, and eliminate prime targets. [Allies]:TSE, Keva [Enemies]:SJO, no one else yet.
The hum of a ship's engine. That was all that could be heard to compliment the silence that the group of Gravewalkers upheld. Some words from the pilot being uttered as he coordinated with the others over the LZ. The pilot glanced back at the passenger bay and spoke.
"Onyx 1-1, this is Razor 2-1. Boots on the ground in one mike. Over." The voice burst from Vaak's communication pack. With Vaak acknowledging as per comm protocol. "Razor 2-1, Onyx 1-1 copies, out." The Rattaki set his commlink down and nudged the captain with his elbow. Fancelo was reading something off of a datapad to which he set down and glanced over to Vaak, giving a nod. Months of deploying together have brought cases where words do not need to be spoken to know what the situation requires. Fancelo unstrapped the buckles on his chair and grasped his helmet.
"You know the music, time to dance."
Without a second going to waste, the entire team got off of their chairs and secured their gear, turning over towards docking ramp that will descend eventually. The Captain glanced over to Keva and motioned his head over to the area of disembarking. As the soldiers hear a thud from the bottom of the metallic shuttle. Anden barked out. "Remember! We're here to deal with high threat targets and hostiles! ID your targets! We're not here to kill the civvies, leave that to the infantry. And if you spot a Jedi? Call out to Keva." The Captain shouldered his pulse rifle and rolled his neck a bit. The interior of the shuttle went green, and the ramp descended. The landscape was shown and the city was a few hundred meters out. Infantry was already pouring out of the shuttle.
"Go go go!" Barked the massive Gravewalker, the first one to step out. As the rest were to follow.
Even as his blade whirred around him - blocking blades and maiming Knights, Wyatt could feel the painful death of every Jedi with him. Instinct kept his blade strong, stopping a crashing strike from bisecting him - only for his foot to snap the metal mask of another; but his mind was elsewhere, with the other Jedi. He felt his own arm break with one, a round to the skull - but he eased his passing, knew that he knew what he signed up for;
That the artillery shells had to be stopped. Even as the armor began to move, the artillery needed to cease - to allow a proper defense, to ensure the City could survive.
Yet, while he hoped to ease the passing of all those that came with him - a dark surge of energy told him he could not. For the first time, his eyes tore from the Knights around him, and he saw that which came for him; Darkness incarnate, a Sith Lord in their prime coming forth to strike the Jedi down.
With an expert calmness, and the Force guiding his hand - he caught the blade tossed at him, and used it to block a strike from one of the knights, while his own lightsaber cut down another; but for Voyance, he had already turned and looked to nail her in the chest with a solid heel of his boot.
Even still, while he held off those around him with impunity, he could feel that darkness run into his arm. The crystal was corrupted, and Voyance’s darkness seemed to drill its way into his skin - forcing him to toss the lightsaber back to the Sith. There was a numbness to it, to feel that harshness on him once again; and one he couldn’t allow to take him over.
Before Voyance could follow up, his palm landed squarely on the chest of another Sith that had moved to strike for him - and just as soon, his chest and armor collapsed inwards as his body went flying. It wasn’t a clean death, nor was it a good one - but what had to be done, had to be done. Blue eyes fell back to Voyance with a sudden sadness to him, as he felt another pass -
“I’m sorry.”
It was all he could muster for her, knowing what emotions drove into her from that briefest moment of touching her lightsaber. He didn’t have the full picture, but he could sense that trauma, feel that terrible reason for the darkness, and it made him weep.
[Mark +00:07:32] Since Operation Commencement. Positional Telemetry:Kintan // New Kalandra // Northern City Districts. Primary Objective:Claim a Staging Area within New Kalandra to facilitate a Sith-Imperial advance. Secondary Objective:Obtain Morgukai Shadow Scrolls. Allies: The Golden Company - Mercenary Arm of the Thyrsian Hierarchy. Employers: The Sith Empire. Enemies:The Silver Jedi Order - Contractually-bound. Local Assets: [3] REC-TZ/01 "Glaive" - Class Fighter Tanks / [3] TTH/MBT-001 “Sarissa” - Pattern Main Battle Tanks / [4] TTH/ESG-001 "Barbican" Pattern Portable Shield Generators / Several Auxilia Squads - Mechanized Infantry Support.
Several hours passed since the first Sith-Imperial landers touched down on the surface of Kintan, laying claim to the tortured soil beneath and to the grounds some distance away from the planetary Capital of New Kalandra. Their gargantuan metallic struts spilled forth from armoured husks, before disgorging thousands of able-bodied Legionnaires and sonorous Repulsorcraft onto the battlefront. The defenders of Kintan didn’t sit idly as these massive warships landed far outside the city limits, as they marshalled their forces and dashed to the proverbial parapets. Anti-aerial emplacements sought to stitch the heavens with magnetically-sheathed coruscating energy, trying to eliminate as many of the smaller enemy landers that swooped towards the surface. There were some transports, unlucky enough to be caught in the crossfire, that met their end - blossoming into fiery flowers and claiming the lives of those aboard.
However, their losses were swiftly replaced by ever-more eager souls.
Sworn to serve the Sith-Imperial forces in this ambitious endeavour, a small detachment of the Golden Company found itself plunging towards the treacherous surface of Kintan. They rode within the confines of a single gilded Catamaran, whose shields ignited with the impact of the various anti-aerial emplacements seeded throughout the entirety of the City. Undaunted by the seemingly endless barrage, the Thyrsians touched down beside one of the massive Sith-Imperial cruisers - taking what space was given to them by their temporary Allies. As the repulsorfield engines kicked into overdrive and arachnid-like struts spidered out of the Frigate’s gilded frame, the Catamaran gently dug into the planet’s surface - before bathing their surroundings in hydraulic steam.
Whilst the first of the Sith-Imperial trenches were seeding the sundered plain’s of Kintan, the Gilded Catamaran found itself finally disgorging the complement of troops and armour that called the vessel home. Down the extended ramps, they marched or glided. The spectacle was less orderly than their Imperial compatriots, but such displays of vanity and discipline were beneath the Scions of Thyrsus. So long as those that bore the Sigil of the Twinned Suns, or stood beneath the Sword and Sun banner could be victorious in a fight? Who cared if they aligned with their Sith paymasters? Certainly not Khonsu - the current Supreme Sun Guardian, and formerly one of the many secret apprentices of the Empire’s Shadow Hand.
He only cared for results. How the forces under his command achieved them mattered little, and how they were outside of battle mattered even less.
It was the Thyrsian way to trust the various Sub-Commanders populating the armed forces. While others, especially the supposedly civilized rank and file Officers of the myriad Imperial factions populating the stars, would see nothing more than disorganized Techno-barbarians - Khonsu saw a highly adaptable fighting force. They weren’t regimented, nor beaten into a mould. His troops were highly-trained in the arts of warfare, and entirely capable of attuning themselves to the ebb and flow of battle. Their advanced technology was merely the icing on a strategically baked cake. Let the Galaxy believe us to be inferior, Khonsu would often say. Let them be amazed when we leave their Empires in ruins, with naught but ashes in our wake. Let them see just how effective a parade is when compared to the martial prowess of a Thyrsian Warfighter.
When the last of his Catamaran’s complement disembarked from the Gilded Warship, Khonsu turned his eyes towards their assigned Handler. He had come to know this Officer almost-intimately during his Organization’s somewhat exclusive relationship with the Sith Empire. She was a spindly woman, who seemed nourished by the bland rations that her Superiors doled out at appointed hours - while they feasted on sweeter meats. Her form was shrouded in the standard uniform of the Sith-Imperial Legion and ornamented with rank plagues and various other trappings of office. She was a part of the Command Hierarchy, and Khonsu knew her rank - but paid little mind in actually acknowledging it… much to that woman’s chagrin.
“You can skip the usual speel,” the Sun Guard Commander began, as he offered the spindly woman one of his ration bars. They weren’t the bland but nourishing sticks that the Legion deigned to offer their troopers. Instead, they were rich with exotic flavours and spices - a delicacy that was common amongst the ranks of the Gilded Sellswords. “I know the deal. There’s more of these for your Entourage to enjoy whilst we join the Vanguard. Doubtlessly, your Masters will be watching - so I invite you to relish in your newfound spoils within the safety and comfort of my starship.”
“I appreciate the offer, Lord Khonsu - but I’m afraid I must decline the delicacies and pleasantries this time. I’m afraid, with the Emperor and several other individuals of import, taking part in this incursion - the presence of the Unseen is to be expected.”
The Thyrsian Warlord nodded curtly, before tossing a glance to her Entourage some distance away.
“Perhaps another time then,” He said, taking a bite and eventually finishing off the once-proffered Ration bar.
“Perhaps, but in the meantime, Command has… requested that you lead your forces into the City and supplement the Legion in securing a staging area. We seemingly caught the Silver Jedi forces off-guard, but we need to take the City before their reinforcements arrive. It’ll offer our combined forces better cover against any bombardment reprisal - should they sneak through the burgeoning blockade.”
A glitter of interest raced through Khonsu’s mind. He half expected the Sith Empire to demand that his forces act in reserve, but they wanted the Thyrsians to act as a portion of their Vanguard. The tip of the spear to thrust into the heart of New Kalandra. The man also appreciated how the Handler chose her words carefully, as the Thyrsian Warlord would’ve grown irate should she have relayed the exact wording of her Superior’s order.
“Very well. Once provided with the temporary access codes to the Sith-Imperial BattleNet, I’ll have Vindicta act as the go-between to ensure we’re not lost, nor mistakenly bombarded amidst the tumult.”
“The Emperor protects,” the Spindly Officer said with a bow, before pivoting on her heels and marching back to her Entourage.
Khonsu whispered a slanderous comment in his native tongue, before crowning himself with his gilded helmet.
Time passed very slowly for the Mercenary, after the brief exchange with his Sith-Imperial Handler. He watched impassively as the Planetary Shield suffered under the ceaseless bombardment of the orbiting Armada. The man even busied himself with attempting to watch the Legion forces entrench themselves, but soon grew bored with how agonizingly slow they were. It was brutal - the time spent waiting before engaging the enemy. The bigger guns did all the work, for the most part. Bombarding the outskirts of the City, before sweeping towards the interior and the Fortress therein. Their job - alongside the countless number of Sith Soldiers - would be to essentially mop up whatever remained.
At least, that’s what Khonsu expected. He was more than happy to sit around and passively study the combat operations of the Sith-Imperial war machine. However, such a future wasn’t in the cards - as the order came through to advance into the City.
The Thyrsian Warlord silently hissed. While the Sith-Imperial bombardment crept along the ever-advancing frontline, Khonsu wasn’t thrilled by the notion of being bombed from above by religious zealots. Sure, his armour and the several layers of shielding his Repulsortanks and troops brought with them would be enough to weather the hellstorm… it hamstrung their advance. Any sense of alacrity would be thrown from the window, as they were forced to hunker down and wait until the plasmatic shelling stopped. Nevertheless, the man would keep true to the words of his contract. Not only to garner the additional funds his burgeoning Kingdom needed to repair the damage wrought by the Echani Compact but to keep the guise of compliance in place.
They wouldn’t expect the knife slipping between their ribs before it was too late.
“Mount up,” Khonsu spoke, allowing the digitized shard of Vindicta within his mind to spread his words across the Thyrsian’s triple-encrypted channels. “We’re taking New Kalandra by Sunset.”
Dozens of acknowledgement runes materialized on the edge of his visor, signalling that his detachment complied, or was moving to comply with his newly-issued order. Knowing full well that the Sun Guard, and their subordinates, were chafed raw by inaction - they’d jump at the chance to sally forth into the fray without delay. Joining the proverbial river of his gilded comrades, Khonsu climbed into the rear hatch of a nearby Repulsortank and sealed the hermetic hatch behind him. Now ensconced within the belly of one of his Main battle tanks’, the Thyrsian Warlord remotely connected his suit’s systems to the synthetic consciousness that laid within the heavily-armoured hull.
She was a predator. One that hunted across many battlefields, on dozens of worlds. He could feel her violence seek to overwhelm his thoughts, but forced the Repulsortank to comply with his commands. She knew her place - but relished the attempt all the same. Her limited consciousness was built across one conquest after another, which imparted the twinned benefits of knowledge and bloodlust. She was eager to crush the defenders of New Kalandra beneath her gravitic treads. Her name, as bequeathed by the Sun Guard that piloted and fought alongside her, was Syrgalah - the Queen of Wolves.
“Kill,”the Repulsortank whispered.“Must. Kill.”
Khonsu smiled and wrapped his armoured knuckles against the interior of the chamber. It was a foolish gesture, but the Thyrsian couldn’t help but think of the Vehicle as a living, breathing creature. Their circuits were veins, and the armour their flesh. The consciousness that formed beneath it all was simply the Machine’s spirit - manifesting itself into reality by a stream of binary coding.
“Soon, Syrgalah. Be patient, and you shall be rewarded.”
The subtle, rhythmic thrum of the subterranean assault intertwining with the teeth-grating hum of the Repulsortanks’ anti-gravitic plating caused Khonsu to believe that Syrgalah was purring. He chided himself then. She was semi-sapient, sure. But a Repulsortank purring? That would be a new one.
As the Supreme Sun Guardian shook his head to clear his thoughts, the man was joined by another of his Gilded Host. Another Sun Guard climbed into and sealed themselves within the nerve centre of Syrgalah.
“Sire,” She said, her accent clearly not of Thyrsian origin. “It’s my pleasure to be your Pilot today.”
“You can skip the pleasantries,” Khonsu scoffed. “It won’t earn you extra Credits when this battle’s through.”
“Aye, Sire,” the woman replied, bathing her tone with hints of audible disappointment.
Like her Commander, the Sun Guard Pilot remotely connected to the Repulsortank and nestled back into her command throne. Holograms sprung to life scant moments after the connection was made - each containing various gauges and readouts that pertained to the successful operation of the Vehicle. The woman’s hands danced across the surface of the digital terminals, before settling on the twinned control yokes that governed the Tank’s various aspects of movement and firing mechanisms. When she was ready, the woman voiced her status to Khonsu - who in turn ordered his armoured column forward, as they were already lagging behind the main spear-thrust.
Without further delay, the armoured Thrysian Hexad - alongside their Auxilia support - caught up with the Sith-Imperial advance. Their combined deflector shields materialized as they soared across the ruined surface, flaring now and again whenever stray rounds or shrapnel connected with the projected barriers. Any targets of opportunity that presented themselves, as the column advanced, were rendered into molten slag, or their constituent atoms by the technological prowess of the twinned particle cannons mounted on the Glaives’ - or the Disruptor cannons fitted into the Sarissa’s. Other targets found themselves shelled by the creeping Sith-Imperial barrage - which forced the various vehicles of the Thyrsian armoured column to look elsewhere for action.
It wouldn’t be long now until their detachment found itself on the frontlines, or otherwise become embattled within the ruination of New Kalandra’s streets.
Location: New Kalandra
Allies Nearby: No idea
Enemies Nearby: Atasihd Zi
Objective: Commit War Crimes
Finally, some peace of mind.
His sword was tinted red, dripping with the blood of some nameless family. The mother died last, an expression of pointless defiance slowly drooped into a lifeless gaze. A dim light filled their kitchen, and a bit of dust fell from the ceiling as the assault of New Kalandra continued. If only they had stayed hidden or evacuated earlier, Lark wouldn't have even bothered with them. But they fought, futilely joining the Kintan effort to repel the Sith from their world. His blade lay sheathed in the woman's heart, the sound of artillery fire and missile barrages seemed distant as Lark was consumed by parasitic thoughts and horrifying possibilities.
The power of the Necronomicon haunted him, but for all of the tome's maddening affects it revealed truths about his past that had been forgotten after his time on Myrkr. Images that would have been mundane and tranquil to any other being in the galaxy caused Lark more disturbance than any nightmare or slaughter ever would. A cardinal singing a somber song, a dove whose gaze was cast downward, almost in shame. A lost robin searching for it's family, a crow and raven so desperately seeking the other. And eyes as black as the void of space, judging him for all he had done.
The eyes of his brother.
I'm not going mad, all of those visions have some meaning. But what? What knowledge is the tome trying to impart upon me? What do those birds represent? Has my brother kept track of me? These thoughts caused him more despair than the most incomprehensible, eldritch notions. What does it all mean?
And where is my sister?
A piece of the house crumbled and collapsed, bringing Lark back to reality. He removed his sword from the chest of the woman he butchered, letting the blood pool in the gaping wound. Until now he would've used the blood to summon his hellish Sithspawn, but he couldn't afford to face the ill-effects of the Necronomicon in the middle of such an important siege. The book wasn't even with him, he left it in a secure spot on Bastion. In time, he would open the twisted pages once more and unravel the mysteries within. But now was the time for conquest.
Lark stepped out of the ruined house, politely closing the front door as he left. Mortar fire and airstrikes had left craters where parks once were, and neighborhoods were converted into mass graves. Blaster fire and deathly wails crated an orchestra of chaos, this at least Lark could understand. This was humanity's true nature laid bare for all to see. The discord soothed his troubled mind, and he descended into the turmoil with a smile as peaceful as the most soothing sunset.
Location: The Meatgrinder Objective: Evacuate Civilians Allied Forces: Silver Jedi Order - Wyatt Morga
| WelshPsych Opposing Forces: The Sith Empire - Ellie Mors
All around him, Ryv could hear the screams of the dying. He couldn't begin to guess how many perished within the opening minutes of the conflict. By the time he could see the Sith troops streaming through the streets, smoke rose in plumes as far as the eye could see. So many had abandoned the outer ring of the city to evacuate, but others were left behind to die. At any moment an errant blaster bolt could kill the young Jedi. It was enough to instill a sense of dread within him. Every fiber of his being screamed to turn around and get the hell out of dodge. He couldn't name one person in New Kalandra who wasn't a criminal of some kind, yet he pushed on. His whole life up until then had been running from something or someone, but not this time. This time, Ryv was running to them.
He slammed his shoulder into the door of a random home. He couldn't make out what was being said, only that people were trapped inside and calling out for aid. A second hit sent the door crashing from its hinges. The kiffar could make out a family of four, likely a pair of parents and their children.
"Let's go!" he shouted, his voice carrying through the home. "There are evac ships deeper in the city! You need to go!" he pulled one child up and scooped up the other before hurriedly ushering the parents outside. Handing off the child to her father, Ryv offered a nod before turning and dashing into the thick of it. "They are evacuating deeper in the city!" his voice rang through the streets as he called out to any of the citizens who could hear him. Most raced past without acknowledging him. At least it was in the right direction.
"Help me!"
A voice cut through the chaos all around him. Ryv slid to a stop, his momentum nearly carrying him from his feet. He looked around, searching for the sound of the voice before locating it. A speeder had overturned and pinned a younger human male. Likely no older than twenty-two or twenty-three, Ryv hurried to his side. Already, the padawan could hear the marching feet of Imperial soldiers stalking ever closer.
"You have to get this thing off of me! Please!" the man shouted in Ryv's face, pulling him down by the jacket.
"What's your name, man?" Ryv looked over his shoulder at the advancing troops. It is cutting it close to stay, but there was nothing else he could do. "Name's Ryv, I'm a Jedi."
"Virn, my name is Virn," Virn looked past Ryv and spotted the soldiers moving closer. "You can't leave me! You have to get me out!" his grip tightened on Ryv's arm, locking him in place.
"I know, I know," Ryv pulled away before taking hold of the speeder. He wasn't strong enough in the force to move it, let alone lift it. He strained against the speeder's weight with all his might. It didn't budge. Once more he pushed, his teeth grinding together. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, pushing him beyond what he was physically capable of. Still no movement. "Shit," he slammed a closed fist against it before positioning himself to try once again. Before he could attempt he felt the muzzle of an imperial rifle press into the back of his head.
"Get up, Jedi."
The hollow voice of a faceless, nameless soldier called out to Ryv. He didn't move.
"I said get up, Jedi!"
Ryv's entire body trembled at that moment. He could feel the warmth leave the air as he locked eyes with the trapped man. He lowered a hand and took the strangers without a second thought. Before the imperial infantry could pull the trigger, the ground shook. Explosions ripped through the outer ring of the city, tearing through building and person alike. Hundreds likely died in that instant the world went black.
Pain assailed Ryv's body as his eyes snapped open. A wracking cough erupted from his chest as he gasped for air. The world was still dark, but small beams of light crept towards him. How long had it been? Seconds? Minutes? It couldn't have been too long given the sound of battle still echoed all around him, but it sounded as if the Sith had begun to push deeper into the city. Calling the force to his aid, the kiffar took a deep breath before pushing outward. What appeared to be a wooden stall he was thrown into during the artillery barrage blew apart around him. He shakily pushed himself to his feet and dusted off his jacket. A thin trail of blood ran from a cut across his left cheek. It wasn't serious luckily. He scanned the area in a vain attempt to locate the trapped man. All he saw were the remnants of a smoking speeder and a spray of blood surrounding a collapsed roof.
"Damn!" Ryv screamed at nothing in particular before kicking a fragment of the stall at his feet.
"H-Hello!" a weak voice called out. "Help me, please..." it was weak, far weaker than Ryv felt, but it was something. The Jedi sprang into action as he began searching nearby. He eventually stumbled upon a collapsed shop with a dark-skinned arm-waving weakly. "Hel-" the voice tried calling out once more, desperately clinging to hope for her salvation, but a hoarse cough stole the words from her.
"I'm here, I'm here!" Ryv began pulling the rubble away, piece by piece. His fingers bled and he felt exhausted from the work, but he kept going. "Stay with me, I'm going to get you out!"
Soon enough, enough of the rubble was cleared away that Ryv was able to reach in and pull out the small form within. The child in his arms had to be five or six. Her face, arms, and legs were covered in cuts and bruises from the collapse. Fortunately, she didn't appear wounded otherwise. Ryv looked around to find a more suitable route than the war-torn streets before deciding on the roofs above. He scrambled up the girl's duracrete prison before hitting the rooftop. From his new position, the padawan could see the effect of the artillery strike. The majority of the outer city was destroyed. He couldn't quite piece together why the empire would bomb their own troops before it clicked.
"Son of a queen, the Silver's bombed their own people," tears welled up in Ryv's now steely gaze. He shook his head before dashing off in the direction he initially departed from. "Don't worry kid, we're gonna get you out of here."
The Jedi had come in mediocre force. As she expected. There certainly had to be more coming, however. She did not eliminate that possibility. It's been taught in the Imperial Armada Academy that the Jedi prefer to be reactionary. Entering the battle after it had begun. The Lord Admiral had prepared for that possibility. She had plenty of enough firepower to handle what was ahead, so an insurance policy had to be set up.
"Have Battlegroup II dedicate some of it's starships to defend the rear flank. I will not have the Jedi attempt to pull one of their pathetic tricks this time," Darth Athora commanded. The communications officer on the bridge repeated her command into the console before him. Several ships from Battlegroup II then began to slow down as they turned to face the rear flank as the rest of the fleet continued onward. Within several minutes, the enemy ships had just come into range of the long-range weaponry. With the rear flank protected, and weapons at the ready, the Jedi forces would not stand a chance.
"Lord Admiral. The enemy is in range. Ready to fire on your command," stated a weapons officer upon the bridge of Legator II.
"Leave none alive," Zahori ordered.
With her command, the Legator II and Longbows began to fire upon the enemy starships. The Legator II unleashed a hail of fire from it's many guns while the Longbows fired their devastating payload upon their respective targets. The fleet slowed to a moderate pace, wishing to weaken the enemy fleet before the rest of the fleet can finish them off. A sound strategy. One that would almost certainly assure victory for the Empire.
"Lord Admiral. We're receiving word from the Gehenna fleet. Mandalorians have entered the battlefield. Non-friendlies," reported a comms officer.
"You know what we do to rebel Mandalorians." Zahori's reply was cold as her expression remained blank as she watched the battle begin.
Even as the first wave of infantry was digging in, laying down trenches and siege lines, the last remaining wave of dropships had been caught in the anti-aircraft fire coming from the fortress and the city below. The Imperial vessels reacted with practiced precision, swerving, ducking and weaving, but the blocky spacecraft had the aerodynamic qualities of a brick. Several of the dropships disintegrated in mid air, others spun out of control, trailing smoke and flames as they careened down towards the ground, some crashing into residential buildings on the outskirts of the city. Munitions and good men were lost, all in all a squadron of dropships. A notable loss, but not a devastating one. The blocky Styx-class dropships were indeed built like bricks, they were designed to take punishment and once again, they proved the viability of their design.
No sooner did the last wave land, that the Imperial forces were caught in an artillery barrage from the city's defenders, mortars and proton rockets primarily targeting the Imperial artillery and anti-air positions. The enemy had also launched a series of airstrikes, prompting the Imperial anti-air units to spring into life, Vipers sending interceptor missiles racing across the sky towards the enemy bombers even as their anti-air laser cannons opened fire, joined by the autocannons of the Xyphos IFVs and smaller missiles launched by the soldiers' KC-M2 portable rocket launchers along with KC-M5 heavy machineguns and KC-249 general purpose repeating blasters, which aimed for the bombs, disabling most of them with the sheer volume of fire that was unleashed. The Eternal Empire's contingent had vast amounts of firepower at their disposal and would make full use of it. And the Silver Jedi officers were not the only one who made use of combined arms, the Empire unleashing its own fighter complement upon the bombers in sync with the hail of fire rising up from the ground.
The artillery lines suffered the worst casualties, followed by the anti-air units and the Logistics Corps personnel tending to them, including one of the Titan armored trucks, along with multiple Warthogs, Lykos utility vehicles and a sizable number of Combat Engineers that were still busy erecting walls of sandbags around the artillery positions. Through it all, the Imperial soldiers never hesitated, never wavered, or strayed from their designated positions, remaining true to the iron discipline for which they had become known. Through the rain of fire, the concussive blasts and the shower of shrapnel, they stood where they were assigned, taking cover as they could, but otherwise continuing to carry out their assigned tasks.
As the artillery barrage ended, the rumbling noise of a giant engine roared to life. The immense Eviscerator ATDM powered itself up, counter-rotating rings springing to life, drill bits heating up and biting into the earth as the massive machine propelled itself forward and burrowed underground in preparation for the next phase. A convoy of troops began to assemble, led by two Warthogs mounting KC-249 General Purpose Repeating Blasters, followed by an Armadillo APC equipped with a heavier KC-M5 machinegun, a Sarissa-pattern Main Battle Tank and finally, a pair of Xyphos Infantry Fighting Vehicles, although the tank and the IFVs would be useless if the convoy ran into enemy forces underground. At the rear of the convoy, one more Warthog lined up sporting a swivel-mounted KC-T80 Grenade Launcher. Soldiers were already assembling for the imminent assault, three fireteams of Combat Engineers, five Ghost Troopers and a full section of Ultranauts, totalling thirty-five soldiers.
And from his command position, Tacitus surveyed everything, slitted, cat-like eyes scanning the battlefield, unimpressed by the Jedi (Jessica Med-Beq
) attack. "<So, the Silver Jedi finally had enough sense to stop throwing men at their enemies and actually attempt to use artillery, for once,>" he said to one of his officers in High Nelvaanian, the official language of the Eternal Empire, his tone cold and dismissive. "<Have the enemy artillery positions been triangulated?>"
"<Yes, my lord. Transferring report to your datapad now,>" the officer responded, prompting the Eternal Emperor to pull up his tablet, eyes scanning the information displayed on the device, his mind dissecting it and processing it with the speed and efficiency of a veteran officer. What he read, actually made him raise an eyebrow. So, in addition to those MLRS units and the vehicle-mounted mortars, the Silver Jedi had actually set up mortar nests on rooftops, no doubt using the civilians within the buildings as meat shields, hiding behind them. And then, they would complain about the Empire's atrocities. "<Incompetent fools,>" he muttered under his breath. Louder, he voiced his orders. "<Time to show these damned Jedi what real artillery looks like,>" he said.
"<Have Drakon units one to forty open fire on the enemy artillery emplacements. Full salvo, high explosive shells,>" the Sith Lord commanded. "<Scorpion units ten to thirty are to follow up with a missile barrage, two-thirds high explosive and one third incendiary warheads and have our own mortars return fire, units one to forty, using fragmentation shells. Finally, Gorgon units one to twenty are to follow up with a salvo of C3X gas rounds.>"
Turning his eyes to the fortress, he added. "<Gorgon units twenty-one to thirty-five are to initiate bombardment of the fortress walls, high explosive munitions, followed by an airstrike by two of our bombers. Alert the Sith forces about the barrages and prepare for follow-up salvos upon request,>" he ordered, tossing the datapad on a desk as he turned and exited the command tent.
As the Emperor and his Wolfguards crossed the distance towards the staging area where the convoy was assembling for the underground assault, an encrypted message was broadcast to the Sith forces on a secure, pre-established channel in clear, albeit accented basic, the officer's tone cold and dispassionate, almost machine-like.
"This is Echo-OpCom to all Sith Imperial forces. Class Three envirohazard warning. I repeat, Class Three envirohazard warning, imminent deployment of chemical munitions by allied forces. Echo-OpCom over and out."
The Sith Lord slid his helmet over his head, securing it in place and attaching the hose of his rebreather unit as the first of the howitzers fired, a large scale artillery barrage soon followed by the shrieking of dozens of rockets and 95mm mortar shells, the Imperial artillery roaring into life, its horrific thunder joining the chorus of the Sith Empire's own artillery units and that of the Silver Jedi defenders. Over in the city, where the Jedi artillery was deployed, fire and steel would rain down on them from the Eternal Empire's siege lines, but the worst was yet to come.
The final, most horrifying part would come after that dreadful barrage. Twenty Gorgon-pattern howitzers raised their muzzles to the sky and fired, sending shells whistling through the air towards their targets. At an altitude of thirty meters, one by one these shells would pop, dispersing a white-blue mist that would descend upon the buildings upon which the Jedi had set up their mortar nests and in the streets where their mortar carriers and rocket launchers were located, mere moments after the artillery barrage ended. Caring very little about the civilians within the city, the forces of the Eternal Empire were using C3X 'Silent Night', a highly lethal chemical weapon which caused a swelling of the victims' vocal chords, followed by loss of consciousness within ten to fifteen minutes and finally, death, usually by heart failure or asphyxiation. It was a horrible weapon, one which was designed to prevent those afflicted by it from crying out for help.
The final phase of the Imperial barrage begun, fifteen massive howitzers unleashing a salvo of shells upon the walls of the fortress, sending shell after shell whistling through the air towards the section of wall where Kiff Brayde
and his snipers had taken position, a pair of I-4V dive bombers already climbing and circling the city as they made their final approach, turning sharply and plummeting towards their target, Jericho sirens wailing their dreadful song of death as they unleashed their bombs.
Meanwhile, the Imperials had finished digging their forward trenches, which were now fully populated by soldiers and the Empire's own snipers, scanning the battlefield with their KC-M74S designated marksman rifles, protected heavy machineguns and repeating blasters placed at regular intervals, Sfyra-pattern anti-tank guns overlooking the no man's land from their slightly elevated positions, above and behind the trenches to guard against enemy armored assaults. The Eternal Empire's improvised fortifications were shaped like a triangle, designed to guard against attacks from all possible sides and make dislodging the Imperial besiegers a daunting and bloody task. As Combat Engineers began laying down a minefield around the Empire's improvised fortifications to complete the horrific gauntlet which awaited any counterattack, tanks, armored vehicles of all sizes and columns of soldiers were forming up, the TX-1 war droid going through its final checks from its protected position between four Sigma-class heavy dropships, which had landed at the center of the Imperial position. The city's defenders would soon come to feel the full force of the Eternal Army's deadly Storm War doctrine and the Imperial commanders were confident that the Silver Jedi would not have the means to defend against it effectively.
Tacitus and his bodyguards reached the staging area of the convoy assembled at the entrance into the tunnel where the Eviscerator ATDM awaited its next task. This time, there were no speeches, or words of encouragement. There was no need for such things. Instead, he simply took position at the head of the small infantry column which accompanied the heavy vehicles. With a wave of his hand, he gave the order for the strike force to advance, the massive, complex tunnel-boring droid roaring to life as in proceeded to melt through the ground ahead of it, shaping it into a glass-like coating around itself, which was quickly cooled and hardened by the machine's cryoban generators into sturdy, solid walls.
Hissing and rumbling, the machine advanced, carving a shallow tunnel towards the fortress. It spewed foul-smelling fumes, by-products of its method of digging the tunnel along with the humid heat, but Tacitus and his soldiers, protected as they were by their vacuum-rated, climate-controlled suits, were undisturbed. Walking beside the lead Warthog, on its right, Tacitus marched with his strike force into the depths, making good progress and swiftly reaching the lowest level of the city's sewers, the filthy water instantly converted to a stinking cloud of steam as the ATDM's superheated drills came into contact with it. Undisturbed by the city's sanitary infrastructure, the ATDM continued to advance, simply carving through everything in its path and erecting glass-like supports where needed, to support the roof.
This was the most dangerous part of the subterranean assault, as the convoy was unable to bring the firepower of its heaviest vehicles to bear, while every corner and intersecting tunnel could serve as an ideal ambush site. Opting for caution, the Sith Lord ordered the convoy to slow down and keep every eye and peeled, as getting caught by surprise down there, would make for a very undesirable situation.
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That first batch of legionnaires Lanik landed amongst raised their blasters in an attempt to open fire on the Jedi. Bolts of energy spat from the barrels of the troopers’ weapons. Darts of red cutting through the air towards the Jedi, and in those moments Lanik was able to thrive. The lightsaber form Soresu was made for defense, to create a near-impenetrable wall, and that’s just what Lanik did. His blade twisted and twirled through the air sending the crimson darts back at their attacks or batting them harmlessly away. In truth it wasn’t even Lanik doing it, it was the force which worked through him. It guided his hand when there was danger from a bolt the force simply nudged Lanik’s saber where it needed to be. The Sith sought to make the force a tool, whereas a Jedi worked in unison with it. A relationship bordering on symbiotic. In less than a minute what had been a squad of legionnaires lay in the mud, freshly made holes in the armor.
Looking over to the first emplacement that his group had been able to reach Lanik waited. His faith in the militia was proven mere moments later when the artillery gun was consumed in a blossom of flame. The shrieking of stressed metal filled the air as the remnants of the mechanical creation collapsed forward. The thrumming of other emplacements was still audible, the thunderclap of each one firing closer than ever.
Regrouping with his men Lanik pushed on to the next emplacement. The element of surprise had been lost and with it the legionnaires rose once more. Lanik could feel the death as more militia members were cut down, no he could see it. Rounding a bend in the trenches he slid to a stop, the mixture of mud and blood making the ground slick beneath his feet. The stench of death filled the trenches, it turned the padawan’s stomach and in the distance, he was forced to watch as a Jedi was taken down by an officer. His heart sunk, he could feel the knights pain through the force as if it was his own. His neck and chin burned with the fury of a star going nova as if he’d taken the vibroblade to the throat.
Eyes focusing on the officer and the men accompanying him Lanik charged forward, his own militia soldiers behind him. Aspis raised in front of his being the shield did as it was created to do. It protected the Jedi. Not only did the verpine rounds slam into it but so did blaster bolts. In the face of this Lanik did not falter. His eyes never leaving the Sith troopers before him. Lanik’s right hand reached forward giving a slight twist in his mind and that very same twist reached for the barrels of the Sith officer’s weapons to destroy them before they had a chance to fire once more.
The thought of flying through the air came to Lanik’s mind and just like that he was doing it. Explosions from the recent bombing run bloomed in the distance. The orangish-red light from them silhouetting the Jedi’s frame. He plunged through the air towards the officer, the sky blue blade held in his right hand, the shield upon his left arm. With Lanik the force was, so to were the memories of those militiamen lost, the Jedi fallen. They worked through the padawan as he came down with a diagonal strike to cleave the officer from their left shoulder to their right hip.
After what felt like a lifetime, Reggie and his group had gotten the civilians they had found to the evacuation ships. Of course, there were still more within the city, trying their best not to get wrapped up in the chaos. "Simon, i'm going back to get more people to safety. Catch up to me when you can." Reggie didn't wait to hear or see a response, there was no time. The Padawan ran back down the streets with haste.
It didn't take long for Reggie to see a little girl run out of a building that was on the verge of collapsing. As if just noticing that her parents weren't near by, she turned back towards the building. Reggie seeing that she was about to run back in, he sprinted and grabbed her. Just as he expected, the building collapsed; the life force of those still inside being snuffed out with it. Reggie was frozen for a second, his mind not fully comprehending the fact that two people had died inside the building right in front of him. Then it hit him, the guilt of not being able to save them, of not arriving in time to do so. But that wasn't the worst of it. No, what really put him on the verge of breaking was the little girl he had stopped from going back into the building to get their parents. Their tears ran down their face, falling onto Reggie's arm. She fought to get out of his grip, crying out to her parents, desperately hoping they would emerge from the rubble. Reggie didn't let go, instead lifting her up and sprinting to the evac ships with tears running down his own face from his good eye. "I'm sorry....i'm sorry."
Reggie had returned to where the ships were and put the girl down. He waved for some assistance, in which two Rangers quickly moved towards him. He didn't know what to say to the little girl. I'm sorry that I was too late to save your parents? Don't worry, everything will be alright? There was nothing he could say that would bring comfort to her. In his inability to say anything, the two Rangers helped the young one to one of the ships. So this is what helplessness truly felt like? Reggie thought he had felt it before, but this was much different. Is this truly what the Empire strove for? The destruction of life, with those left behind to feel despair?
The Padawan rose and took a breath. No time to rest and allow your thoughts to overwhelm you Reggie. He ran back down the streets to search for others like before, but this time he also searched for his enemies, ready to fight. Reggie wasn't the type that searched for a fight, being more of a defensive fighter. However, at this moment he wasn't against fighting those who wished to cause harm to this innocent city. He didn't let his emotions get the better of him though. The people come first. Picking a fight isn't the Jedi way, nor is it his own. He wouldn't allow himself to forget that, even as the memory of the child crying and the building collapsing on their parents played in his head over and over.
Darth Carnifex
was heavy even heavier than he was used to but it was sturdy he had taken a few days to get used to moving in it going through combat forms with his scythe in ships while in hyperspace and growing used to the way the armor felt around his form.
Skorvek
. It like its rider at times emitted a fear Aura making it the optimal mount for Aedan to use which was brought to light as he reached out letting his force presence wash over the large beast calming it as he knew it disliked travelling in enclosed spaces but this was the safest way to get it to the ground or at least into atmosphere. The ring moved as Aedan opened a hand coming to rest in his palm causing him to curl his ungloved fingers around it the gloves of his armor resting alongside him waiting for him to put the ring upon his fingers thus letting his presence flow into it. Finally he opened his eyes as a pilot chimed in through the intercoms. "We are preparing to land standby to exit the shuttle at our signal."
Muad Dib
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