Exodus Crash | CIS Invasion of UCM's Eshan Hex

[Cay-Yo]

Location: Planetary Capital
Objective: Find Allies
Allies: Confederacy of Independent Systems
Enemies: Mandalorian Empire
Equipment

Spoiler

Lancelot (see link in signature)
Miniature Powerlance
Cay-Yo sized uniform
Durasteel Sword

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Cay-Yo was not the most important or famous member of the Confederacy, in fact he was so new to the cause that he had really no true contact with most of its public figures. Being a force user gave him some standing but not truly enough to be known by it. This lead to Cay-Yo more or less being overlooked for combat duty for the invasion. When he inquired as to which ship he would be taking the coordinators only shrugged, they had not seen his name on the list of notable individuals. And since he was so small it was doubtful he was one of the Confederacy's organic troopers. So the Patitite instead stowed away on a droid landing ship. When it landed he and his trusty steed of impeccable pedigree had made their way into the city looking for familiar faces.

At first Cay-Yo noticed a droid battalion taking enemy fire from rooftops. Not that he would not enjoy fighting mandalorians on the rooftops but he was unsure if Lancelot could make it up there. So the tiny warrior bounced off at speed to find another grouping of Confederates. The next group he came upon was more by accident than by choice. He had been bouncing down the alleyways when he nearly ran into Madalena ( [member='Scherezade deWinter'] ) "Woahh!" Cay-Yo pulled back on Lancelot's reins firmly with his left hand to keep the purple Gizka from slamming into the woman's legs. Looking up he noticed who it was and sat up straight in his saddle, head tilted upward to make eye contact, his right hand holding onto a miniaturized power lance adorned with a blue CIS pennant flag. He wore a stately looking navy blue uniform that had a red sash across the torso, and what appeared to be a plethora of golden medals stacked on his right breast. No doubt these were fashioned by the Patitite himself for none other than bragging rights. At Cay-Yo's waist was a scabbard with what could only be assumed was a Patitite sized sword. As the shadow fell over the cityscape the Patitite's biolumeinsent stripes and eyes began to show clearly their golden hue "I did not expect to see you. Where are you going?" he said as regally and proudly as he could muster. Ah yes, the Gizka Knight had arrived.

 

[Skorvek]

Enemies: Salij-Nekt

He listened to Salij's speech and about how his home Ankypht is in chaos and how Neferisa calls for all Anubians to come forth to her or to step aside, He had plans to com to Ankypht in force and take it as his own but his duties to the Mandalorians prevented such a thing from occurring, He growled back to Salij as he held his hammer in his hand faced towards the ground before he responded.

Ankypht will not stop being my home even after i was exiled from its warm sands so long ago, However I have made a new family here among the Mandalorians who are warriors just like us. Who cherish honor and stability and family among all else, Where as the Confederacy comes forth and scars a world still recovering from freedom from its slaver masters and have caused more death and carnage then any warmongering faction I have witnessed. Yet here you stand with them and you come and preach to me about joining a meaningless war whilst you have done the same, While I cannot due to my oaths to Manda'lore herself declare full allegiance to the queen if she desires my help I will offer what i can.

It was true he has formed too many bonds in the Clans of Mandalore to severe them and leave them to there fate, Yet he cannot ignore if his people need help either, This was a tricky situation and one that needed to be resolved.

 

[Salij-Nekt]

Enemies: [member="Skorvek"]

Salij-Nekt grit his teeth together behind the helmet. Growling under his breath, and had been prepared for that. In fact, had almost been wanting that, wanting him to say such words. But, he did give allegiance to the queen...Salij was not so fond of that answer. Especially once Skorvek called him out for joining with the Confederacy. He growled louder at that, lifting his axe slowly to point int at Skor.

"Join them?! I merely came with them, to face you! I fight no wars but my own!" Salij snarled. Skor had hit a soft spot there. He calmed slowly, preparing a rebuttal. "I thought you had been one for death, Skorvek...necromancy is a powerful art, and I find myself disappointed almost by you. Queen Neferisa may have wanted you and your allegiance to Bakari, but I shall judge so..."

The albino Anubian held himself there for quite a long moment. Thinking over things. His empty hand curling into a fist. Before he then lifted the hand, opening it in an attempt to Force push his opponent from the rock.

 

[Skorvek]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bpxtuUQ28UM&index=5&t=0s&list=LLk3Jz8XNjori7WkHoFsmifQ​

The thing about armor such as his was that it was durable and strong and almost impossible to topple Skorvek had tanked to force push only being pushed back a inch or two before he responded with a powerful blast of sith magic using bolt of hatred to fire a medium sized orb of green energy towards [member="Salij-Nekt"] followed by a burst of lightning from his hammer as well. After his barrage he spoke once again.

You found the Original homeworld? I must say I am impressed perhaps after this battle I will come and speak to this Queen myself then sort out if I am too join her or become an Ally to her and help uncover Bakaris secrets.

His tone was calm and cold despite what was happening he heard stories of the ancient homeworld, and of how they once ruled but then where banished from its soil. He wanted to return to that soil and uncover what happened and if he can to make a home of his own with his own kind while still serving Mandalore

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

Location: En route to Eshan.
Equipment: Jedi Youngling Hand-Me-Downs | Training Lightsaber | Awesome Sour Jawbreakers
Fools Currently Suffering: [member="Jerek Zenduu"] | [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"] | #TeamCIS
Friends In High Places: [member="Vanessa Vantai"]

[ darth lolcat's theme ]​

The Confederacy certainly had a taste for the archaic or the obscure.

Sienar System Star Couriers? Seriously? 32 BBY called. They want their tech back. The young Cathar had to flip through the archives to find mention of the ubiquitous Scimitar that these replica kit-jobs were based upon. What he'd been able to gather about it was that it had some connection to a Sith Assassin.

When he got back to the Sith Empire, he'd be able to do a proper search using the resources available at the Sith Academy. A place of great learning whose search returns were not censored with regard to the Sith, the Dark Side, or anything that might call into question the holy bastion of all goody goodness that was the Holy Order of Jedi Butt Pirates.

And, also, wasn't the Confederacy led by a dude who claimed a Darth title? So, why was a Jedi such as Jerek fighting on the side of the Confederacy to begin with?

On the plus side, this detour from the Sith Empire had supplied the kitten with the one thing that he'd been lacking at the Sith Library on Ossus... unfettered access to the basic Jedi holocrons. Best of all, the Jedi encouraged him to delve into Master Yoda's On The Jedi Code and the other basic tenants of Jedi philosophy.

It was so refreshing to at last get access to the basic texts and holocrons, without the commentaries and biases that too often accompanied the Sith digests that claimed to summarize the Jedi texts. The young Cathar even attempted to hold a reasoned debate with some of the Jedi, but his attempts at exposing their hypocrisy through application of logic was met with head pats and comments about what a well-spoken young kitten he was.

Apparently, being adorable meant that no one took anything that he said seriously.

The kitten had escaped into one of the maintenance compartments. It was like a box set into the floor. The small Cathar squeezed into the space with a copy of Lectures on the Nature of the Force by some Neti Jedi Master who was rather quite nutty. It wasn't a reflection on the Force at all. Or, at least, not in whole. It was just propaganda about the Light Side of the Force. Another misnamed, poorly conceived meme drummed up by the Jedi who refused to view the Force for what it was -- preferring the fiction they created for themselves that limited it to only being what they wanted it to be.

The young Cathar had alternated between reading and napping. The warmth radiating through the maintenance access he'd re-purposed into his play box was quite nice. Soon, he was doing more napping than reading. Awakening for brief periods in which he'd re-start the same sentence over and over before drifting back off to sleep.

Then the grating overhead was pulled away, and the kitten found himself getting hauled up by the same Jedi teen who'd kidnapped him from out of the Ossus Library.

Which, you would think that separating a youngling from the care of his parents would be against the Jedi Code. Not only that, but they'd removed him from his school system. How he was going to get caught back up with his studies at the Royal Academy at Bastion was anyone's guess. About the only chance he had of possibly living through it would be to compose a treatise illuminating the heresies and inconsistencies of the Jedi that would wow his instructors. Otherwise, he was probably Rancor fodder. Or worse, fuel for Taeli Raaf's next seminar on Sith magic.

But, before he could worry about that, he would need to first worry about this.

What was this anyway? Some damn fool idealistic crusade, brought to you by Dudley Do-Right and his Girl Taungsday. Astride the back of his fool Jedi mount, the young Cathar sat atop the shoulders of Jerek as he pointed forward and declared, "Onward!"

No, he didn't know what they were doing. Or where they were going. But he was getting a piggy-back ride at the moment and he wanted that ride to get going.

 

[Salij-Nekt]

Enemies: [member="Skorvek"]

The pale warrior stared as he saw that Skorvek did not move, then raised a hand at the energy. Pain hit him, shocking him. He let out a roar of pain at first, till he managed to hold himself. He was forced into a kneel by the pain and shock of the attack. The words spoken by Skorvek once more hit a close point to him. Bakari was his to protect, his to find the secrets of, along with his master to do so. "You...will not find the secrets. My master searches for them...you will not find them" he snarled.

Salij sprang from his lowered stance as he charged down Skorvek. The battle had begun by now, their duel. Roaring his challenge to his opponent, prepared to take on the once brother in arms. Holding his pole-ax at his side, swinging it horizontally at an angle to try and catch Skorvek on his rock. Using both of his hands to swing the weapon.

 

[Skorvek]

Enemies: [member="Salij-Nekt"]

He leaped back from the swing at the last second so it can hit the rock he could tell his words where serving to infuriate the beast more and more which worked more in his favor if he put the beast in a feral rage while he stays calm. Using Alter environment he made the rock where his axe would land become soft so that the anubian and the weapon hopefully will be sinking abit into the rock, IF all goes well he would go for a jab with the front part of his hammer as it was still charged with lightning as he went for the strike in the hopes that the lightning will conduct into the armor before he continued his talks.

Your master may yet uncover the secrets but there are things in this realm unknown to some and I have delved further into the force and the dark arts then most Priests, After this battle I will return home and unlock the secrets for all Anubian kind one and all.

 

[Amea Virou]

L: Eshan
A: [member="Runi Verin"], CIS Funded Rebels
E: No Enemies in Sight. Technically.
Q: “Locked and loaded, where the hell is peace of mind?”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

There it was again, that tinge of regret or anger bearing down upon Amea who had already tried her best to not let the situation get to her. Nothing about today would be easy, that much was true and Runi did have a point. Amea’s half-cocked grin fell into a blank expression that didn’t say much at all. As Runi looked over the hologram one more time, Amea would wave the others off as they left until Verin decided it was time to go and Amea followed close behind.

“I’ve loaded up on explosive rounds if anything.” Amea said and re-holstered her weapon under her jacket. “Even then I suspect this particular gun won’t do much against a fully armored target.”

Which wasn’t to mention the underdressed fashion in which she herself had joined the fray. Her protective vest would be fine against a single bullet or two, but beyond that it was useless. Mandalorians weren’t known as a warrior culture without good reason. As much as Amea would have liked to skip the vest altogether, she had to take her own mortality into account to some extent. The shield generator on her wrist was good for that to some extent as well, but she didn’t quite count on it to do much.

“Two blocks down that way and then a dozen down to the right. Should lead us straight to the position our intel mentioned. We were also told to expect patrols circling around every other block or so.”

No sooner than Amea had repeated what Runi most likely already knew did the weight of their mission really hit her. Brien had been a good master and practitioner of his special brand of warfare and martial arts but age was getting to him and there was no doubt about that. It wasn’t like Amea to worry to this extent, but something kept pulling at the back of her mind. A sense of fear for the loss, or rather the chance that it would happen. She wrote it off as nerves, apprehension for what was about to happen, a fragment of her old past that didn’t want to let go and probably never would.

“How do we want to do this?” Amea had to ask, part of her needed to make sure. Again. “Guns blazing? Stealthy-like? … Diplomatic is certainly not on the table.”

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Location: Eshan's Capital City, en route to the Palace (on foot)
Allies: The Confederacy of Independent Systems + Allies
Enemies: ME
Wearing: Armor | Leather Pants | Pathfinder Boots | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | Sofitor
Wielding: 10 Czerka knives | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives | Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke (lightsabers) | Combat Gauntlets | Knight Obsidian Sword | 2 Dissuader K-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets
Tags: [member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"] | [member="Voph"] | [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"] | [member="Cay-Yo"] + those who wish to join

Her head turned to look at Cardinal at the sound of her name. There many reasons for the Confederate to be on this planet on this day; some were here out of a sense of duty, others out of a sense of deep responsibility, and some where there to earn their marks and hope to gain favor in the eyes of those who led them. The Sithling however, would never have reason to confess to either of those things. The drums of war coursed through her very veins, and the joy that radiated from her at the thought of being in the thick of a war zone such as this was almost tangible to those stood sufficiently nearby.

Cardinal, it seemed, was completely on board with her, going as far as to offer a small competition. Little did she or him know that the girl who no longer existed had participated in such before or its consequences, which left Madalena to respond the only way she knew how to – with an enthusiastic nod. "You know I'm going to win," she said with a cheeky smile, "and then I'll finally get to learn what your home cooked meals taste like." Besides, he already knew how great her sausages and steaks were. All she'd gotten from him thus was spider stew.

Standing quietly, she wondered what he was up to as the canister came into view. A moment later though, after Cardinal did himself as well, she understood. "Did you just Simba me?" Madalena laughed and almost kissed his cheek. Almost.

Turning around, she nodded and prepared herself to set to work, when a fresh new Confederate appeared, on the back of a little Gizka. The grin on the Sith's face became even bigger, and she crouched down to one knee. She and Cay-Yo had met during the Confederacy's invasion of Copero and she had taken him in as a Prisoner of War. He had since opted to join the Confederacy, and while he was still new, she had little doubt that he would get very far. There was simply no other choice for that amount of heart and courage condensed into fourty centimeters of height. Besides, now that he was no longer officially the enemy, it was perfectly okay to like him. Besides, with how wonderfully regal he looked on his royal steed, it was impossible not to.

"Hey, Cay-Yo," she said as she kissed her finger and pressed it against his Gizka's forehead in a loving way, "we're heading to clear the Palace from Mando filth. Wanna join us?"

Standing up again, Madalena turned. While the destruction of the buildings was easy to see, if she were to be frank, she'd expected… More. More corpses, for one. She couldn't spot a single one of them.

Sighing, the Blood Hound closed her eyes, trying to focus. They were standing right in the part that had received the planetary bombardment. There was… "Blood," she whispered, "lots and lots of blood. But it's all old and dried. At least a week old, maybe two. There is nothing fresh that I can find."

It was strange, and she wasn't sure what to make of it.

"So we just walk to the Palace? In the sunshine? With no opposition?" looking up, she shook her head. Someone up there was trying to block out the sun, but that… Wasn't really how you did it. "It feels wrong." Was it part of an elaborated trap?

 

[Caesar Kenway]

​

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Wearing: Minister's Command Uniform


Wielding: Hidden Blades, Cane



Location: Bridge of The Fortressa, out of orbit, about 5km away from orbit.



Theme: Wehrmacht, Re-Education



Allies: CIS, her allies, and the Echani

Enemies: Mandalorian Empire, and it's allies
Engaging: N/A, feel free to give me somebody to tag here.
Tags: N/A, feel free to give me somebody to tag here.
Objective: Meteor

​

The trip was long, and the Minister had slept nigh none. He'd been in the planning room aboard the Fortressa, receiving information on the general positioning of enemy ships from ships that had arrived before them, and scouts. The Exarch Adron Malvern had granted the Minister's request for a Super Star Destroyer to use in the liberation of Eshan, and answered with the Fortressa. The Minister appreciated this gesture, it was a bit more suited to leading Fleet operations than his own ship, the Salvator. He worked over a plan for star fighter deployment, about five squadrons of the latest vultures, nothing too irreplaceable, like a life. Just to see what they were facing, he'd deploy the real ships later.

Caesar moved out of the room, grabbing a cup of caf from the mess hall on the way. He then returned, taking long strides towards he lift to the bridge. He strode into the elevator, sipping his caf to keep him awake and attentive, he'd tried to sleep a day ago, but found no luck. He pressed the button, and the elevator doors hissed shut, and the floor started moving up, smooth as velvet. The engineers had done a good job repairing the Fortressa after Triffis.

He strode out, as the floor below him stopped, and the doors hissed open, hardly leaving a gap between the hiss and the echoing tap of his shoes on the cold, metal floor. The bridge was bustling with activity, and his voice filled the noise, overpowering it. All eyes faced him, and he kept walking up to the front, to look out from behind the glass. Talking as he went.

"Comms officers, check in on the Captain's of the other ships, I don't want to go ahead with our escort functioning in-efficiently. Gunners, ready yourselves, Engineers, run a systems check."

They did as they were told, like good little worker bees, and the void he left was promptly filled with the constant buzz of the hive that was his bridge.

"Venator One checking in, all systems are go. Venator two reports that a few troopers are nervous, Mordekai escort is good, and General Kalypso sends you his best wishes, and reports your ship is functioning at peak efficiency."

The voice of his Commodore next to him, reporting in that all was good. It was a reassurance, for lack of a better word, that his forces were ready. Venator two worried him slightly, nervous troops meant they weren't going to do their best, and war was survival of the fittest. That was a lesson he knew all too well, he shook his ankle slightly, his new meds worked wonders on it. He looked out, and ordered the comms officer to start a broadcast across all CIS Frequencies. The officer wasted no time, and granted the Minister's request.

[CIS Wide Comms] "Attention all forces of the CIS, and it's allies. This is Minister of War, Caesar Kenway of the Confederacy of Independent Systems speaking. I'll be in charge of the space fighting, and can advise on ground movements. Do note that members of objective Mercy can request medical supplies on their position. I will be delivering a large number of our forces down to the ground via shuttles. Good luck, remember your brothers, sisters, family, say any prayers you might have, wish each other luck, do as you must. Eyes forward, make them fear you. Go get 'em."

The last three words reminded him of a trainer sicking his dogs on an attacker. It did not matter, the troops needed all the luck, good thinking, and god help they could get. Mandalorians weren't an easy enemy. Then, the blue light of hyperspace vanished, it seemed like it had been minutes since he'd last seen real space. The black void, well, what there should've been.

The first ship to arrive was his Mordekai class escort, tiny, only 500m or something similar. It lured squadrons of enemy fighters in, before the massive bulk of the Fortressa arrived.

Then, the blue light of hyperspace vanished, it seemed like it had been minutes since he'd last seen real space. The black void, well, what there should've been. A few ships grazed and clipped against the titan as it entered real space, losing wings and spiralling out of control. Then the behemoth of a ship opened fire with, destroying fighters that got too close. He expected something less violent, thinking not as much fighting had already started.

Instead, the Minister was greeted by a Mandalorian fleet, dog fights, lasers ripping up the skies, explosions, death. The telltale signs of Mandalorians, and war. They were at the right place, and he pulled the Fortressa out of hyperspace not a moment too soon, a second longer and their destination would have been within a fleet, just outside orbit, where his fleet had been arranged to appear. It worked to his advantage though, an element of surprise never hurt. The purple and grey of the Venators he'd brought with him showed up, as their captains reported their presence, deploying shuttles filled with troops to the ground, and opening fire on the enemy. Then the Fortressa started deploying it's escort squadrons, and shuttles, headed towards the planet's orbit in groups.

Somewhere along the line, pilots commanders had ordered the squadrons to go now, instead of wait for the way to be cleared. Possibly smart, possibly not. It mattered little now.

[CIS Wide Comms] "The Fortressa has arrived to join the party, brought a few plus ones, hope you don't mind."

Then, the Salvator entered real space, and deployed it's squadrons of shuttles and fighters. Kalypso reporting his arrival.

 

[Salij-Nekt]

Enemies: [member="Skorvek"]

His roar continued as his pole-ax went around to strike at his enemy, only to completely miss as it hit into the rock. It seemed to melt into the rock, which caused mass confusion within the Anubian. Before he could make an attempt to retrieve the weapon from the stone, a shock hit his chest as the hammer hit him and he was sent off. Flying back, having been made to let go of the pole-ax as he fell onto his back. Trying to get up, Salij heard his short speech.

"You will not touch such secrets" Salij swore. He brought out his next weapon, holding his saber. He activated the main blade, with the cross blade. Holding it in a ready stance, one leg forth and the weapon held at his side.

He remained in that stance, searching within. Tapping into the pain, the anger. And unleashing it in a Force Fury as he lunged with near blinding speed, making for an upwards slash from his right. As he swung, he was going in for a spin to repeat the action.

 

[Veronika Fleischer]

Location: City outskirts
Objective: Drive out the Mandalorian Empire
Allies: CIS, Mandragora, [member="Rhaellor"], [member="Asher Mossa"]
Enemies: Mandalorian Empire
Equipment:

Spoiler

Weapons
Veronika's purple lightsaber
HV-55A: "Allfate" Disruptor Rifle

Body
Obsidian-type Strike Armor
Echoy'lii Shuk'orok (Echoy'lan Crushgaunts)
Multipurpose Cloak - Classic Collection

Misc
Resam
Light-Shield Bracelet
Talisman of Reflection
A pair of Wonder Pearls (cyro)

With multiple groups and factions in the galaxy, conflict was always inevitable. War was inevitable. But if one were to take a step back and understand why war was raged, he or she would come to the realisation that war was merely a tool, an extension of political power struggle. It would also meant that the invasion of Eshan by the Mandalorians was never going to be liked upon by the Echani. Why would the Echani people have positive views of invaders who had called upon an orbital strike upon the city, leveling at least a couple of buildings in the vicinity? If blood had been spilled, did it matter if it was one hundred civilians or five hundred?

The severity mattered, but did not change the fact that civilian lives had been lost, families had been broken and graves had been dug. The dead would always be moaned and remembered by their loved ones. And if the rest of the Echani had not waken up to the fact their brothers and sisters had suffered a terrible ordeal of being burnt alive, they would soon find out.

[member="Fawn Alzi"] had arrived with her undead minions and summoned an ancient ritual performed by the witches. [member="Kasca Fen"] had joined in the chanting of the spell. The spell channeling had began, but they needed more. They needed the spirits to answer. They needed a source of power. One of them was available, a socialite turned celebrity fashion designer who generally preferred to be partying her weekend away. But the Coven had spoken. Her patron spirit, the tiny colourful spirit bird from Ryloth reminded her of her duty to the Coven, and by extension, to the Confederacy.


The blonde stepped up towards the flickering flames, the purple fire illuminating her emerald eyes. She pulled out her gauntlet and placed it on the ground, grabbing the ritual knife offered to her and made a cut on her palm. Blood dripped onto the flames, sizzling quickly into nothingness.

"Open your eyes, everyone. Open them wide and clear."

Veronika's eyes glowed with power as she floated into the air, channeling the Force through her body. Her patron spirit Jart ruled the realm of minds despite his tiny size. Her mind expanded, reaching out from the ruins to touch the Echani who were still alive and closest to them.

"Open your eyes. Remember their deaths."

The image of the orbital strike was replayed through the minds of those who heard her whispering. The deaths of civilians screaming in horror when the couple of buildings collapsed and burned in flames. Some people said five blocks, a couple said more and some said it was but a scratch wound. The number did not matter.

What mattered was the visual impact that Veronika wanted every Echani to know. To remember. The Mandalorians had taken their world from them. That was all she needed to do as her reach extended outwards. The memory expanded its reach and flowed through every willing participant, every Echani who had remained oblivious to the tactics which caused them to lose their world.

It was a spell that mimicked Battle Meditation but with a twist. Veronika did not need to maintain the channeling after the memories of destruction were sent out.

"Open your eyes! Remember their deaths! Remember to avenge them!"

With one final scream, she found herself floating back onto the ground and landed on her feet. War was never won by words or guns alone. War was won by whoever had the most support and determination. The Confederacy would win because the Echani would remember. Arms would soon be drawn by angry crowds because Echani blood was spilled.

As Veronika stepped off from the flames to rest and heal her hand with her Force, the fire continued flickering. The ritual was not over.

It was just the beginning.

 

[Fawn Alzi]

Location: City outskirts
Objective: Drive out the Mandalorian Empire
Allies: CIS, Mandragora, [member="Rhaellor"], [member="Asher Mossa"], [member="Kasca Fen"], [member="Veronika Fleischer"]
Enemies: Mandalorian Empire
Gear: Lightsaber, wooden staff, knife


More had come. The ritual picked up steam as Fawn listened to the cries and moans of spirits, their residue still lingering in the air and the soil down below. She could feel the Echani vengeance flow through her, some of them appearing in the smoke of the flame to let out bloodcurdling screams. They never had the chance to fight, to tell their own stories, to live the rest of their lives. Orbital bombardment was a cowardly form of warfare, and as a coward herself, Fawn could easily recognize it. The Echani that died could still have a chance to fight if only for a moment to reclaim their glory and strike back at those who took the coward's way. They longed for it, ached for that chance.

And, briefly, she came face to face with an Echani girl as she faced the flames. All else seemed to fade away, her trance taking her somewhere deep into the heart of the surrounding area. The girl was an adolescent, still a student of the martial arts, but she harbored no ill will. Her training was for self-defense, friendly matches, restrained as it was. She never had the opportunity to put her skills to the test or tell that last boy she sparred with how she felt about him.

As Fawn continued to watch, the visage of the girl eroded into nothing but bone, her screams muted over the deafening blasts that would be the end of her in the blink of an eye. Although she didn't personally care much for the previous lives of the dead she worked with in the past, there was so much left to be done just for this one soul. All Fawn could grant her was a moment to take revenge, as with every other soul she could commune with. Ghosts were rarely an attractive option for a necromancer like Fawn, too fleeting, too autonomous. Unlike a corpse, they still held the essence of what made someone who they were at their very core. But if ever there was an opportunity to use what they could provide to her advantage, the site of so much death so closeby to a warzone was ideal.

Time was nearing for this ritual to be completed, and from the smoke of the fire came the first few spirits to take shape. Nobody ever expected the dead to be used against their murderers.

 

[Grosck Bah'azet]

Objective: Disrupt the witches
Allies: [member="Tathra Khaeus"]
Enemies: CIS|ME; [member="Fawn Alzi"] | [member="Kasca Fen"]
Gear: Tathra's Fury / Vek'Mad
Troops: 10/Brutes/

Grosck looked round the killing field boredly. The battle had been short and sweet with the Mandalorian trenches falling easily beneath the might of the Draelvasier. A few units from the striker squads had suffered casualties, but little else had happened. Meanwhile the wounded from the Mandalorian side lay scattered across the battlefield. The striker squads went about the menial task of finishing off the injured. Sending them to whatever afterlife it was that these Mandalorians believed in. Grosck studied the trenches and field with nary a care in his eyes. The battle had been won to easily. The so called warriors, nothing but prey. One of the Mandalorians was pinned beneath his massive boot. Every now and then the man groaned or moved his arms in a attempt to escape with little to no success. Grosck applied a little more pressure and bent low to address the man.

"raelvasier: I'm going to eat you alive and then use your bones as toothpicks," The massive alien growled within the Mando'ade warriors ear.

"I- i don't understand!" He cried out and Grosck merely barked a harsh guttural laugh.

He removed boot from man's back and grabbed hold the scruff of his cloth. He lifted him high into the air and removed helmet with other hand. The man was but a youth, this had probably been his first battle, his face still unblemished. Grosck knew this young warrior would provide little sustenance to his warriors prowess. But, every bit of strength he gained from those consumed was more he would have for when he was chieftain. So as the youth screamed in anguish, pleaded for mercy, Grosck lowered the Mando's head towards his mouth and bit it off in one gluttonous chomp. Bits of grey matter and blood drooling at the corner of his lips. He could feel the youthful warriors spirit mingle with his own until finally his strength had become Grosck's. He felt a rumble in his stomach and it left him in the form of wind passed. Perhaps the Mandalorian had more of a fighting spirit then Grosck thought.

Grosck was approached by his second, an upcoming Brute who had the skills, but lacked a little in wits. However given enough time Grosck was confident he would be able to rival even Grosck strategos one day. He was adorned in the high tech armor of all brutes however Grosck had noticed his helmet was missing and his chest piece had been discarded. He was on his path to becoming a true warrior. It was glorious to see his warriors adopting the traditions of ancestors past and honoring themselves in such a manner. Grosck's second did not bow, he did not salute, nor did his gaze falter. He was a warrior, and so he would address even his superiors as so. It was not a matter of offense and any who would be offended by such, probably had lighter skins then these Echani whelps they currently fought...

"raelvasier: Sir, the landing zone has been secured. What is our next orders?"

"raelvasier: Remain here with the Striker squads and nineteen other Brutes, an honored ten will make for a forward scouting party with myself,"

The Second in command nodded. While he lacked some wits, Grosck had no doubt he could manage the simple defense of a landing zone. Grosck had the Brutes lined up before him and he eyed each warrior up and down. They had all discarded pieces of their armor, opting for a more traditional battle dress. One in which their thick scarred hides protected their innards rather than the mechanical steel armor. It was a sight that inspired Grosck and honored him greatly. He chose ten of the warriors who had the most scars, but least injuries. They hefted rifles into the air and let out a roar of approval at being chosen by their crusader commander. He smiled inwardly, but would not let his troops see how proud he was of them. It was unbecoming of a warrior. Instead he opted to bark more commands at his chosen cadre of troopers.

"raelvasier: Fall in line! Move on me!"

Their was a building just outside the city of Eshan. It looked like it would serve as a good forward command post. All they had to do was secure it. Grosck thought nothing of it as he and his troops walked across the snow laden ground. The sun blotted out by whatever magics or tech the enemies had brought to bear. All of it meant nothing to the Bryn'adûl. For they had come for the kill, for the honor of battle. Not to save, not for any other cause than their own. They marched along the streets as they grew nearer the city. Husk of speeders and armored vehicles, and the occasional body or chassis filled the streets. The warriors were mostly unmolested on their path to the target building, save for the stray Echani civilian. Which they put down with ruthless savagery. Often times making a game out of it. Giving the Echani a small amount of time to run, before gunning him down. It was truly hilarious to the Bryn'adûl warriors.

As the Bryn'adûl neared the building a familiar stench took hold of the warriors. One that was as putrid as it was sweet. It was smell of rot and decay. Familiar to them, for they had spent countless hours around the dead. Enough time to know what a bloated body, puffed up and filled with gasses, might smell like. This was the smell of corpses long past their expiration date. It was the smell of bodies in which maggots thrived upon putrid flesh and layed eggs in decaying gut. It was truly a terrible stench, one that would make lesser beings gag, but not the Draelvasier. They were made of harder stuff and as a result it would take much more than a few decrepit corpses to scare them away. As Grosck took point and entered the building however, what he found did surprise him. These dead moved! At first he entered unbeknownst of the evil that lurked here, but as he spied through the shadows, lurking silhouettes darted to and from the building's recesses.

The Drael entered a defensive posture and Grosck hefted his great axe. Ready to swing and eviscerate anything that got in his path. That's when the first of them came. Running at ludicrous speeds as their bodies contorted and spasmed at ungodly angles. The sight made Grosck shiver despite his steeled nerves.The Drael warriors opened fire as the hordes of the dead closed in on the elite warriors. Grosck swung his axe wildly, cleaving and dismembering any and all that got in his path. Brackish blood, the color of a deep maroon, soaked the warriors as they cut down swathes of the undead horde. Gore and limbs went flying in every direction as the Drael lit the enemies up with heavy fully automatic fire from their Wendigo rifles. They sliced through the zombies like butter.

 

[Kyyrk]

Objective: Link up with CIS Operatives and continue towards the Palace
Allies: CIS and Friends
Enemies: Mandalorians, and any who would seek to cause more harm to the Echani people.
Loadout: Armor, Lightsaber, Ri Qorit Device
Near: [member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"] [member="Jerek Zenduu"] [member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"]

[youtube]https://youtu.be/CajS26vbaXY[/youtube]​

Voph moved through the streets of Eshan City quickly and quietly. He was quite wary of the fact that Mandalorian presence in the city was at a bare minimum. He'd expected with the fleet above that he'd be facing more resistance. Yet all he'd encountered so far was scavenging parties sifting through the ruins of war. Most of the city was intact, but war always left its scars. His helmet turned this way and that as he picked his way through allies and back streets. He could feel the pain...the death radiating from the crater not far from his location. The Force was wounded, crying for the loss of life. Voph paused near the corner of a building, collapsed after an explosion. Bomb, perhaps. Or a walker strike. The small clearing had been the site of a shoot-out, that much he did know.

He paused, lightsaber dipping towards his ankles as he reached out to place a hand upon the wall next to the gaping hole that the shot had torn through the building. His breathing slowed, and Voph reached out with the Force, searching through the pain and torment that still lingered over the city. images flashed before him, of Mandalorians cutting down Echani in the streets, running red with blood. His brow furrowed as he heard an ethereal voice cry out, "Kill them all, let Kad sort em out!"

He withdrew his hand from the building as the images of the bombardment began. That sight he'd seen enough. As he was drawn back to the real world, he realized his communicator was lighting up. "...don't even think about scratching that ship, I just got done updating it." A communication forwarded to him from the Arbitration. [member="John Locke"] had arrived, it seemed. "I think you misunderstand the purpose of that vessel, Mister Locke...." The sarcasm was readily apparent in his voice. Though he did agree. He'd just gotten it back, he'd hate for it to be taken from him too soon. Voph turned to look behind him, before pushing forward. And then, a second transmission.

"My Lord, The Adjudant has arrived. She seems to have landed near your position. Broadcasting coordinates now, and establishing communications." Voph paused around a corner to pull out his datapad and reference the location. "Voph...You are late." He smiled under his helmet. He was growing fond of the young leader, and her own snarky outlook on life. "Couldn't find my ignition codes, my Lord. Once this all blows over I'll submit myself for disciplinary action." Nothing said he couldn't be sarcastic back. He pushed himself off the wall, stowing his datapad again. He was on the move again. "I'm showing there's another group between our positions. Suggest rallying there, moving as one unified group."

Regardless, he was making his way there as soon as he could. His soldiers were taking advantage of the quiet air about the city, and the first shuttles full of refugees were beginning to leave. He maintained his presence in the alleys until he arrived at the clearing populated by three other members of the Knights Obsidian. He wasn't familiar with any of them, save Cardinal, their leader. His lightsaber drooped as he stepped closer to them, showing at ease, but not foolish enough to deactivate his Lightsaber outright. He nodded to Cardinal as he stepped close, turning to look back the way he came as he spoke. "My Lord. City's quiet. Too quiet. I can't help but feel the Mandalorians are preparing something."

 

[Eyros]

“Who was I to question. It could have only ever been him, by his blade he had assured that everything we knew should have been was to be and that was the finality of it. He knew we would follow him into the very depths of the pits that the one before had sent our gods into with blade and blood if he commanded it, and now he stood, Thychani Commander himself.

He had told us what awaited, beyond the void. The soil of our origin, I had never laid eyes upon it, for I was not born of Thyrsian blood, nor of the enslavers curse. Yet at times during that long and cold journey of anticipation and nerve I had to remind myself of this. The Resol’nare had died along with the person I was long ago, a heretical mindset of a lesser people who would soon feel the error of their ways. I was now a Thyrsian in all but race, accepted as an outcast into a family now pledged for war, but then again weren’t we all outcasts no matter if our father’s were from the sunned plains or not?

It would be on the sacred ground that we would see, our blades hungered for blood and our bodies had a thirst to shed it.

By the will of the Master of the Myrmidons, His Sacred One, Thychani Commander Khonsu Amon we come and we will not rest until Eshan is stained red with the blood of the Heretic and the Despoiler.”​

​

Objective: Run Red the Ground of Eshan with the Mandalorian Despoilers.
Location: Eshan’s Capitol City - Ruins.
Allies: The Golden Company, Thyrsians, The Confederacy of Independent Systems.
Enemies: The Loyalist “Mandalorians.”

THEN

Words of prayer vibrated across the hall as indentured scribes went through their pre-battle rites and blessings. Their own appearance, hooded and robed was as far-removed from the metal surrounds with it’s plumes of scented smokes rising from ceiling hung incense as could possibly be. Their chant carried across the lines of silent warriors before them, giants of stature and each as varied as the next. These were the Legionnaires of the Golden Company, their armour having already been prepared and adorned in preparation for the coming war. Between them walked hunched and limp figures, indentured slaves who aided the chosen priests by carrying vials and liquid vats as they made personal blessings with the flick of sacred oils and golden tinged dyes.

Eyros closed his eyes as the area before him was filled by one of the priests that followed the company around like flies to a corpse, from the robed being the scented incense was almost to much to bare, seeping up through every gap in the mercenaries armour and filling his senses. It sent his mind into a haze, eased his muscles and made his eyelids heavy. Words of prayer muffled around his ears, not fully heard but understood through the indoctrination and dedication to the Thyrsian way. Oil was splattered upon the golden tinged armour, staining it into a deep copper before the priest moved on to the next, his hunched familiars following him with small grunts and huffs as they went.

“Brother Eyros.” The space before him was now filled not with a priest but the heavy bulk of another golden warrior. “You have been given your task.” The voice was deeply mechanical, probably due to the voice-calibration based within the armour of the Golden Company which was almost becoming a common standard among the once varied models that filled the ranks of the mercenary band. “Your cohort has also been given the same task, they shall be prepared within the hour.” Beneath his helmet Eyros smirked, he knew his men would be itching for combat, their dedication whipped in a bloodlust that could only be sated on the planet beneath.


“Is our ship prepared and ready?” Eyros questioned as he stepped out of the golden ranks, leaving behind the aromas and sense dulling surrounds of the blessing room. “I don’t want a repeat of Bentall.” The warrior fell into pace alongside him, his strides matching the Mandalorian-esq mercenary.

“There is no need. You are to accompany the Thychani Commander himself to the surface. He has spoken and so it shall be.” He allowed the visible confusion to cross Eyros, a slight pause in his pace as they carried down a corridor passing a steady line of arming servants that were carrying armour and weapons towards the blessing room in preparation for the mass arming of the company.

“So he has spoken. So it shall be.” A Thyrisan salute was given and they parted ways.

​

NOW

The great jewel of Eshan had given them all a moment of pause, for it was the combined catalyst of everything that had been and everything that had foretold. Even the rumbling explosions of the defensive fleet igniting shells and laser burn against the shields of the Thyrisan ships that were plunging deep into the lines as they headed not for glory in space but straight for the planet hidden beyond. Yet none of this mattered. It was what laid beyond that truly was of concern.

Eyros was among those on the transport that held the first, the ones who would make footfall on the soil of the great enemy and burn the heretic with righteous zeal and as the sound of battle increased into a murmur of blooded anticipation he couldn’t help but get those pre-battle tingles. For how long had he waited to strike back at the Mandalorians? How long had he been prepared to land on Eshan at the head of the Golden Horde? The blast doors opened…

They would all die today. All of them…

 

[Vera Mina]

Objective: Scourge (Butcher Mandalorians)

Post: 3

The survivor of the massacre still able to stand injected a risky combination of both painkillers and adrenal stimulants into him that he had found on a nearby fallen comrade. He had no armor, was still recovering from wounds received in the city earlier, on another attack. He looked like a scorched, bloody mess on most of him, but most of his injuries were not fatal, and he had cauterised the wounds he had received from the Android's initial slaughter. It seemed to have disappeared after he had blasted it with cryo assault spray, but that meant nothing. It had single handedly slaughtered nearly everyone able to stand, including his friends.

And he was gonna kill that damn thing even if he died in the process.

With shaking, trembling hands battling exposure from chilly open air and nausea, the wounded man grabbed a pistol on the ground in addition to the clip loaded semi auto shotgun he had found in the field of gore she--it--had left in its sword rampage. Only had two rounds left. He should be fleeing. It would have been the smart thing to do.

But that thing killed his friends.

He stopped, crept slower then, the drugs making him feel cocky that he could succeed where the others had failed. He tried to listen for something, anything that might give its presence away. He fought to stay conscious, even with the ill advised cocktail of stims in him.

He heard a sound, a rustle from the tent and staggered forward, swooning. It was more than likely he would die, but he had to try. He owed it to his Mandalorian brothers and sisters to try, otherwise he'd never be able to look himself in the mirror again.

He saw the tent rustle from something inside. He went as quiet as he could, even though he was off balance. Trembling, praying...he peaked into the tent with the shotgun.

It was feeding, metal fangs driven deep into the neck of a comrade, totally focused on repairing what tissue damage it could on its own, while the underlay did the rest. Her arms carressed the victim as she drank his blood, spilling it everywhere, drenching an otherwise white ensemble and staining it with gore.

He aimed his pistol, but the Biot heard him coming long before she actually saw him and her own pistol was already up firing. Only his survival instinct allowed him to dodge the bolt just enough so that it only hit him in the shoulder and he fell backward into split open bodies and mud.

"I'm so hungry I think I'll have seconds..." the Biot taunted from within in a dark contralto, dropping her live victim who bled out. It was eerily silent now in the canyon the med-camp on the outskirts of Eshan was in.

Vera had retrieved a knife from the slaughter, and as she approached the survivor, she had decided exactly how to start with him as he lay helpless.

He shot up fast, faster than even the reflexive enhancement in her dress collar could react.

Her dress could stop a few pistol rounds. A few.

But that was a six guage slug round that exited twice out of the shotgun. The first round, aimed for her head, missed its mark due to his dizziness from the drugs, instead blowing off her pistol in her right hand. She didn't have anytime at all to dodge the second shot.

The bullet resistant properties, poor as they were, did still cut down on its ability to travel right through her.

But it still tore through that layer, demolishing the main organ in the biot that served as its heart and grazing the spine as it tore a massive hole out the back big enough to push a soda can through.

Vera coughed white blood, gargled it and dropped next to him where she stood, red eyes open as a large amounts of blood leaked out for a few seconds before stopping, though sparks still flew out the back and front of the wounds. Not trusting her death after surviving a full on impalement, the survivor tried to rise tried to point the pistol and fire, but the cocktail picked exactly the wrong moment to start having side effects and he was all but paralyzed.

Meanwhile, parts of the underlay glowed blue underneath the surface. The brain had only six minutes before lack of oxygen being received would result in brain death. The underlay needed two minutes of no combat to start working, and she had just fed, meaning that some of the muscle repair proccesses were already starting to work. And if she had not been wearing the dress with such an insanely powerful healing underlay this might very well have been Vera's end.

The survivor was feebly trying to crawl away for the next two minutes, now fighting the drugs effects on his motor skills dared to turn around, saw the gaping wound in her chest, saw the heart regrowing, then starting to beat. The spine would take longer though as that was more complicated.

Raw terror, even through the haze of drugs, sized him as he saw the Biot blink once, then grin, attempting to move as the wound in her chest sealed up. He felt a terror that he had never really felt before seize him giving more strength to his crawl away from her, hearing her starting to chuckle, and mortal fear that actually forced his legs to work seized him during his death crawl, still too woozy to properly use weapons as the biots spine was seconds away from repairing and becoming active...He ran into the canyon ahead, powered by nothing but fear of death, knowing it would chase him soon...and he had no further means to fight it...

The Biot decided to be sporting, and gave him thirty seconds, even though by the time she rose she was already fully repaired, having felt the sensation of true death for an instant and not sure how to process it as she sportingly waited before taking off after him...

 

[Subject 5]

Allies: [member="Cynthia Solus"]
Enemies: [member="Helly Reyne"] | [member="Valencia Hadley"]
Objective: Run
Location: CIS Field Hospital
Soft groans made it past Fives parted lips. His head hammered, and stung like a motherkarker. He felt so disoriented in that moment, and rested his head on the wheel. He could hear the sounds of the gathering crowd, the gasps, the shouts and barks for reinforcements. As well as the sighs, as people cradled each other in their arms. "Urgh...." He grunted, as he listened to some heavy feet stomping on the hood of the speeder. He winced, and slowly leaned back into the seat, his eyes fluttering open. People began to poke him now. Jabbing his shoulder, he snarled, and winced with each prod, his entire body aching. The bounty hunter turned and looked beside him. A jawa was leaning over, prodding him, and recoiled a little, before reaching down and snagging a large, silver briefcase.

The importance didn't reach Fives initially. He sat back, and grimaced at his own suffering, until he remembered. A new vigour and bile seemingly rose in the man, who sprung to action. "You motherkarker!" Fives snarled, standing up, and leaning over, trying to snatch the jawa's shoe. He nearly clasped it, but instead made the Jawa fall to the ground. "Give it back!" Fives barked, while the thief muttered something in his native tongue. Clumsily, the bounty hunter climbed over the passenger seat, and lunged out of the speeder wreck. The jawa, briefcase in hand, was slowly picking himself, or herself, again, you couldn't tell, and moving. "Oh, no you don't!" Fives glowered, reaching into his jacket, the crowd which had grown around them, now moved back a few steps, as Fives revealed he was armed. "Come back, you little prick!" He snarled, before opening fire. None of his blaster bolts hit. They instead, impacted on the ground scorching the ground.

The Jawa turned around, and stumbled to the ground, recoiling with each step Fives took. Fives' movements were jagged, and laboured. He felt his strength begin to sap from him. His head, now felt heavy, and with each movement, seemed to carry his body, making him sway. The bounty hunter leaned down, and slid his pistol into a holster on his belt, before trying to cleave the case from the jawa. The jawa didn't seem to want to surrender either, and so Fives did what a Mandalorian once taught him. Fight dirty. "Come on you two faced chithead!" He thundered as he levelled two kicks to the ribs. The move proved effective, and killed any attempt to resist by the Jawa. The case was now his, and taking it by the handle, Fives stumbled forth. He reached up to cup his aching forehead, and let his hand down, revealing a thick layer of blood. God, he was bleeding. And bad. The audience parted for him, as he aimlessly shuffled, until, Fives took rest beside one of the nearby pods, and then collapsed. Briefcase in his lap. With the last of his strength, the bounty hunter took out his pistol, and rested its barrel on the top of the case, the grip and trigger, still in his control.

"If any of you bashtards...." He drawled, his words slurred, and his head swaying from side to side, "Try to take my.... my schtufff...." He continued, his speech laboured, "I'm gonna shhhoooot you alll deeead...."

 

[Amelia von Sorenn]

​

​

Location: The Nessius; Eshan Orbit - Between the planet and the Fortessa
Objective: Destroy / Drive off the Mandalorian Fleet
Allies: [member="Caesar Kenway"] | [member="Alden Akaran"] | [member="John Locke"] | [member="Voph"] | CIS & Allies
Enemies: [member="Adenn Kyramud"] | [member="Premier William Harris I"] | [member="Vanessa Vantai"] | Mandalorian Empire & Allies
Personal Affects:

Spoiler

• The Helm of the Inperantike
• Hellplate Armor
• Jathahr Mila's Lightsaber
• Vas Orus' Long-handled Lightsaber

The Infernal Host:

Spoiler

• The Nessius; Flagship
• (2) Malebranche class Star Destroyer
• (2) Ascensoriel class Star Destroyer
• (2) Interdictor II class Cruiser
• (1) Interdictor II class Carrier
• (4) Uniila class Cruiser
  ​(16) Phlegethon series Thermonuclear Device

[*](4) Barbazu class Frigate
[*](4) Lemure class Corvette

• ​Starfighter Squadrons
  ​(6) Gidim class Bomber; 24 Bombers
• (16) Nupperibo class Starfighter; 384 Starfighters
• (10) Longsword class Starfighter; 120 Starfighters
• (10) Erinyes class Starfighter; 120 Starfighters

Post Number: 2

​

​

​

The Nessius shuddered as its shields absorbed the impact of the enemy fire, a soft smirk upon the woman's lip as she stepped forward, her golden hues peering across the void at the fleet before her. She hoped that she could, in some manner, capture the enemy commander; at least the one that had the courage to make the first move and open fire upon her fleet. It had been some time since she felt this, and the blood in her veins seemed to run hot, an oddity for her species. Beneath her helm her eyes seemed to flash for a moment, shifting from the golden hues to the brilliant blue often associated with great shifts of emotions in her species. When was the last time she felt like this?, she wondered to herself, her mind thinking back to a time when she was alone with her apprentice.

Yes, that was the last time, the last time she truly felt the emotions beginning to course through her. Now as she faced down this enemy she felt the same and she welcomed the emotions with open arms. As her vessels shuddered under the withering enemy fire she closed her eyes for a moment. There was no point in losing herself to these emotions, rather it was a time to embrace and harness them.

"Ma'am."

The voice seemed distant for a moment before she heard it more clearly. A smirk upon her lips hidden as her eyes slowly opened, her hand raising carefully as she motioned forward.

"Shift the Ascensoriel Star Destroyers forward, move the Malebranche Star Destroyers back. On my command, focus all fire from our Prow Heavy Turbolasers on their Escort Carrier; let's make sure some of their Starfighters wont have a home to return to."

Her own vessels began to shift in formation, the lumbering forms of the Ascensoriel Star Destroyers - effectively smaller versions of the Nessius - pulled forward, taking up position alongside the Flagship. In moments their weapons focused, the gunners locking onto their target and letting loose. The Prow Heavy Turbolasers unleashed a withering field of fire with all six focused upon the Escort Carrier. Though the woman wasn't done just yet, no there was still more to deal with.

"Uniila class Cruisers; Prepare for a single burst, full spread across their line. Set your Torpedoes and Concussion Missiles to detonate just before their Starfighters and Bombers. We'll screen them out to keep them from closing in. Lemure class Corvettes will clean up any flights that make their way through supported by our Starfighter squadrons."

Twenty Concussion Missiles and Two-Dozen Proton Torpedoes launched into space, their forms screaming through the void towards the oncoming Starfighters; then just moments before the enemy squadrons they detonated, the explosions lighting up space in a series of burst one after the other. The Cruisers then shifted, moving to ensure that the Lemure class Corvettes could move ahead of them and provide the protection against any Starfighters or Bombers that managed to make it through the screen; the lighter vessels would bring their Quad Laser Cannons to bare against any that managed to slip towards the fleet, laying down a withering storm of covering fire.

"Ma'am, enemy shuttles and drop ships detected heading towards the surface. Should we engage?"

Bringing her hand up, she motioned for a moment to ensure the gunners held fire.

"No. Keep our vessels weaponry directed at the Mandalorian fleet, we don't need an errant blast from our Turbolasers adding to the devastation that the Mandalorian Bombardment already visited upon the world. Give the command for Haborym Wing to intercept their shuttles and drop ships, and move Eligos Wing to provide additional support against enemy Starfighters that may attempt to intercept."

From behind the fleet; where the Starfighter Wings had been ordered to remain, the two wings tore through the void towards the world below. The three squadrons of Nupperibo class Starfighters along with two squadrons each of Longsword Starfighters and Erinyes Starfighters - of the Haborym Wing - moved to intercept the Shuttles and Drop Ships deployed by the fleet before her. Following behind them was Eligos Wing - comprised of one squadron of Nupperibo class Starfighters and three squadrons each of Longsword Starfighters and Erinyes Starfighters - moved between the fleet and Haborym Wing, providing a defensive screen. There still remained more than enough Starfighter Wings in reserve, waiting for their chance, though it would come in proper time; for now there was still more work to be done.

As the Nessius shuddered again, the woman smirked, her blood still boiling as she watched the movements of the vessels in the orchestrated ballet of war, the bursts of weapon fire providing the music of their grim performance.

"Avernus Group, fire up your Interdiction fields, target behind their fleet; if they seek to escape they'll need to move towards us. Barbazu Frigates will move to provide additional support to Avernus Group as needed."

Though it would take some time; the three vessels began the process as the Gravity Well Projectors began to charge up, preparing to unleash the mass shadows behind the Mandalorian fleet. In this state though they were more vulnerable; thus their original placement behind the bulk of the fleet was a calculated one, providing them additional protection as they carried out their task.

While there were still other vessels arriving on the field, she was focused upon her adversary of the moment, knowing that she would be more than able to count on her allies to pull their weight and work in concert to secure the space above Eshan.

"Have Astroth Wing on standby to provide additional support to CIS ground elements on Eshan. We'll keep Oriax, Vassago and Ruzel Wings in reserve to be utilized as needed or sent to reinforce other CIS Fleet Elements."

"Yes Ma'am."

The Starfighter Wings shifted as they were required; and though Astroth Wing wouldn't break through the atmosphere, their made contact with CIS ground forces, ensuring that it was known they would have the Wing - consisting of three Gidim Bomber Squadrons, two Nupperibo Starfighter squadrons as well as one squadron each of Longsword and Erinyes Starfighters on standby to provide additional ground support.

It was just the beginning of the engagement and it was still up in the air - so to speak - as to whom would come out triumphant at the end of the day. Either way it seemed that Amelia had found a worth while opponent and hoped that it wouldn't merely be a flash in the pan. Though she also had to ensure that the Uniila were still standing by the end, their special pay load would mark a fitting parting gift to the enemy.

Fleet Actions:

Spoiler

• (2) Ascensorial class Star Destroyer moved forward
• (2) Malebranche class Star Destroyer moved back
• (6) Prow Heavy Turbolaser Cannons focusing fire on IFW Ton Falk-class Escort Carrier
• (20) Concussion Missiles and (24) Proton Torpedoes detonated in front of enemy Starfighters and Bombers
• (4) Lemure class Corvette opening fire on Starfighters and Bombers that make it through above screen
• Haborym Wing deployed to attack Mandalorian Shuttles and Dropships deployed by Adenn's Fleet
• Eligos Wing deployed to cover Haborym Wing
• (10) Gravity Well Projectors to be established behind Adenn's Fleet next round
• Astroth Wing set to standby to provide air support to CIS ground forces
• Oriax, Vassago and Ruzel Wings kept in reserve to redeploy as needed

Damages:

Spoiler

• The Nessius: Negligible
• (2) Ascensoriel class Star Destroyer: Negligible
• (2) Malebranche class Star Destroyer: Negligible

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

Location: Breaching Eshan Airspace.
Enemies: TBD
Allies: CIS | [member="Tamara Wren"] | [member="Koda Fett"] | [member="Rohak Vizsla"]
Objective: Establish position.

Vizsla was not here to liberate or defend.

He didn't care about the Echani. They were a strong people, hardy, reveling in combat as much as the Mando'ade did. The ones that were hiding behind the skirts of the Empire or the ones that needed the Confederates to fight their battle for them? They weren't any better than the common maggot. No, Ronan was here for a simple reason. To dislodge the Mandalorian Empire from this world and weaken their nation. One world at a time. It would start here.

The orbital fortress raged as it broke through the atmosphere of Eshan.

Some of the escorts went down in blazing fires, where the anti-air turrets engaged, but at this speed and with shields at full strength most managed to come on through. They weren't here to take pot-shots and try to dismantle their automated defenses. That was what the Confederates were for. "Landing in 2 minutes, Alor." One of the Vizsla personnel shouted over their shoulder. Vizsla settled himself back into his command chair, before gesturing to Tamara, Rohak and Fett to do the same.

By the time the fortress crashed into the surface and started to reassert itself everyone that hadn't strapped themselves in were at risk of being turned to paste.

"We land several clicks outside Eshan's capital." Ravaged in an inferno. Even if it was senseless to now treat the Echani as friends, Vizsla had approved of that ruthlessness. "Reports indicate we will land near an Echani base, used by their High Command as a retreat in times of crisis."

"By the time we are done they have nowhere to retreat to."

As they approached the drop zone, the fortress engaged its jamming systems.