Invasion [GA | DE] Operation Shadow Hand | GA Defense of Tython, Empress Teta, & Prakith

[Gnost Zym]

Ko Vuto​

---

Howl leaned into the saber lock. Their blades shed sparks and crackling plasma illuminated the acolyte's Sith tattoos. Through a trick of the light, they seemed to writhe across his weathered exoskeleton. Mechanical wheezes betrayed a damaged respirator. He could sense the uncertainty growing in Ko as his words sunk in.

His unwilling apprentice broke off at last. Darth Howl switched modes back to lightwhip, cracking his saber at the young Jedi several times when he rushed back in. Each blow was either deflected or glanced off nonvital flesh. A conventional blade rose to block the incoming strike but its brittle edge still fresh from transformation knocked the weapon's hilt from his hands.

The kick drew an involuntary cry when it shattered Howl's antiox mask. A mixture of helium and dorin gas now leaked freely and each wheeze grew more forced. He sunk to his knees.

"Through victory..." the Sith acolyte gasped, "Your chains...are broken."

Around them wildlife scattered creating an eerie silence. Smoke from the burning temple began to choke the air.

"Bo...still lives," Howl struggled to speak between coughs, "Strike me down...and you will...never learn...the truth."

 

[Ruus Kote]

Friendly Units:

• 3 squadrons of Busayr-class Heavy Assault Transports
  
  • Lead squadron: I'dadr squadron
• 3 squadrons of Jai'galaar-class Fighter-bombers (currently unavailable)
  
  • Lead squadron: Asmulr squadron
• 3 squadrons of Kyr'galaar-class Multi-role Fighters (currently unavailable)
  
  • Lead squadron: Kalikir squadron
• 1 squadron of Ram'ser-class Super-Heavy Bombers (Ash'amur)
• 2 Strill Securities Jurkad Verde Shere'shoy Mechanized Infantry companies
• 2 Strill Securities Jurkad Verde Kad b' Marev Armored Battalion companies
• Ruus Kote's HQ Company (actively engaging)

Units in Reserve:

• 2 Strill Securities Jurkad Verde Shere'shoy Mechanized Infantry companies
• 2 Strill Securities Jurkad Verde Kad b' Marev Armored Battalion companies
• Ruus Kote's HQ Company (actively engaging)

Ally Tag(s): I'dadr Gargon | Shev Skirata | GA, MP and Allies
Enemy Tag(s): Thomas Barran | DE and Allies

Equipment

• Armor:​
  • 'Verd'jurkad'gam'
    • Left Vambrace:
      • NML-02VTB Nano missile Launcher
      • PC-05V Plasma Caster
    • Right Vambrace:
      • TBP-01V Tractor-Pressor Beam Projector
      • MML-01V Miniaturized Missile Launcher
        • 4x Cretanr'ika-lcass Guided Plasma Micro-missile
        • 4x Striilir'ika-class Brilliant Micro-missile
    • Back Mount:
      • A-03S Verpine Shatter Autocannon
• Weapons:
  
  • B-01M Beskad
  • M-06S 'Skirata' Mra'jitr (2)
  • RP-05A Ripper Pistol w/ 'Kyrayc Sur'haai' Short Range Optic
  • AR-2CQB Verpine Assault Rifle w/ UGL-02 Underbarrel Grenade Launcher and 'Kyrayc Sur'haai' Medium Range Optic
• Explosives:
  
  • 3x CryoBan Grenades
  • 3x NOVA40 Plasma Grenade
  • 2x Smoke Grenades
  • 2x Class-A Thermal Detonator
  • 2x Det-Packs
  • Implants:
    
    • 'Verd' Enhancement Package
    • 'Gar Tkiriyr' Neural Interface

Buy'ce gal, buy'ce tal
Verbor'ad ures aliit
Mhi draar baat'i meg'parjii'se
Kote lo'shebs'ul narit.
​

As the projected shield generator began to dissipate and vanish, Ruus wondered how the shab these chaakare had managed to get someone close enough to neutralize the generator. That meant that their time here was done. The Alliance weren't likely to hold the world for long without the generator, and Ruus had little inclination to stick around while enemy reinforcements and firesupport dropped in on them wholesale. Just like the last time they'd engaged their predecssors at Rhand, it had all gone to haran through no fault of their own.

"Shev to all Mandalorian units." He said in his radio operator voice, "Full extraction. Say again, full extraction. Stow it or blow it.
"Orbitals this is ground control. Support bombardment and fighter cover requested for full extraction. Saying again. Support bombardment and fighter cover for extraction. Sending coordinates now."

Ruus sighed. General evacuation order. That meant that the enemy was coming in fast. "Elek," chimed back Ruus. "Ke'gyce 6 to all callsigns, we are getting the haran out of here. Time for some hazard pay." A chorus of "oya!" answered him right about at the same time as a text message came in from Nyles Kote , "Be advised, orbital fire support inbound." Ruus had barely finished reading the message before scanners began picking up starfighters, both bearing Strill Securities and Protector IFFs streaking through the sky above loosing all manner of weapons fire on their enemies around them.

Then came the bombardment. The very ground shook like Kad shabla Haran'gir himself had struck it. Turbolaser fire, Class-D disruptor and mass-driver cannon fire thudded into the surface close to their positions. Ghes did not to need to be told twice, Ruus' tank like the other vehicles in the battalion were racing to the LZs designated on the Manda by the transport pilots. "Things must be real shabla bad in orbit if they're in this much of a hurry," chimed his 2IC, Walon Kyrdol, over the command frequency. Ruus didn't even want to know. Alliance Fleet can't have been too picky if they weren't complaining about the wanton orbital bombardment and indiscriminate CAS fire.

As they raced down the avenue they'd previously advanced up, Ruus could see Namor Netra's Ram'ser-class Super-Heavy Bomber Ash'amur 1-1 float into position above, twin anti-capital mass-driver cannons in its nose shredding some building advancing Dark Empire troops had thought would shelter them. The Busayr-class Heavy Assault Transport in the distance grew closer and it wasn't a moment too soon that his tank raced up the ramp and came to a screeching halt aboard. "Don't wait on our account, Dinua, get us the shabla haran out of here!" he snapped over the intercom to their pilot.

Ruus had never seen the doors close so fast in his life. "Hold onto your shebs, Kote, this might get rough," snapped Dinua back. Ruus could feel the gunships repulsors kick in before the main drives came to life with the fury of an angry Mythosaur. Ruus turned out of the commander's hatch, seeing the holographic view of the city behind them slowly fading from view as the Mandalorian ships, Strill Securities and Protectors, made for all speed back to the warships waiting in orbit to get the haran out of this system. One thing was for sure, this wasn't the last they'd seen of these Dark Empire shabuire.

 

[Ko Vuto]

Location: Tython, Forests around Kaleth
Objective: III
Opponent: Gnost Zym

He’d shattered the acolytes mask. Ko was somewhat astonished that he’d managed to get this far. He knew that acolytes and padawans were of similar rank, but understood that in the realm of combat, it was more in favor of the Sith. Parts of his body still stung however, from the mild lashes he got from the whip. Perhaps having an extra weapon helped in defending against the unorthodox angles of attack from the weapon.

Still he was feeling a bit drained now. Ataru was far from a sustainable fighting style. Standing over the kneeling Kel Dor Ko listened to him. Once more speaking in some motto he was unfamiliar with. Perhaps it was a Sith thing. Howl’s labored breathing and words being the only sound above the crackling of fire around them and the distance cacophony of battle closer towards the temple. Ko was unsure if his presumed victory here even mattered in the grand scale of what was happening. Winning the battle, losing the war as some would put it.

Ko aimed his shoto down at the vile Kel Dor. Contempt shooting through his soul as Darth Howl spoke once more of his brother. Hearing a Sith address his older brother by name was an insult. Was this some last ditch trickery from a dying Sith to make Ko drop his guard? An honest attempt to reveal the truth. Ko doubted there was any noble intention behind what they said.

However, in some ways the Sith on their knees before him wasn’t wrong. Even though Ko would hate to admit that. Howl liked to quote a motto of theirs, so Ko would answer in kind. “You’re not wrong, because there is no death, only The Force. A truth you will learn shortly.” Ko promised the fellow Kel Dor, while reminding himself of his values as a Jedi. Bo really wasn’t dead, not in spirit at least. Simply having moved on and transformed into The Force. Perhaps the will of his older brother was with him here and now to fight alongside Ko against this Dorin Sith that was the antithesis of what they valued under imperial rule in their homeworld. Now Ko would see to it that How would understand that as well, and join Bo in The Force.

“Farewell, Son of Dorin.” Ko said before plunging his green shoto into the Sith’s chest and burning through their heart. Having no desire to draw these things out. For a Kel Dor like him, justice was to be swift and decisive. Pulling his blade back stepped away from the Acolyte. ​

 

[Detritus Ren]

Location: Tython, Kaleth Temple
Allies: NSO, Knights of Ren, Dark Side Elite
Enemies: Jedi: Taam Moghul Jonyna Si
Equipment: Ren Lightsaber, Orbalisk Armor

Detritus's whole body had burned with pain as the Orbalisks toxins started to surge through his own body. It took every ounce of his willpower just to remain standing, let alone holding a Cathar man by his throat. It was clear that a stalemate had been reached between the two. He scowled at the Cathar woman as her mate spoke. This caused Detritus's hands to tighten around the Cathar's neck as he looked to the male. "Silence!" Detritus had further emphasized his point by his grip tightening around the man's head as if he was going to snap his neck all too quickly. The Jedi might talk, but there were always a weakness constantly present. Love was a weakness that would cost the Jedi the entire galaxy. They couldn't make the hard choices not when Detritus held the man's life within the palm of his hand.

When the woman made her threats known did a laugh come from Detritus. "Run? Ive already won here today. In an instant could I kill this man within the palm of my hand. Although strike me and you will share the same fate. Death means nothing to me, but can your mate say the same? Can you? First Tython, then the Galaxy will come next. Do not mistake this gesture of mercy for weakness, for one wrong move we all die!" Detritus would hiss out towards the Cathar Jedi Woman. He emphasized his point by making his arms ready to tear the man's head apart. Still Detritus would remain ever still, if only for a moment. He eyed her suspiciously, and seemed tempted to go back on his own word.

Then as quickly as it began. Detritus would release the Cathar male, further insulting him by giving him a kick into the mud. A hand stretched out, and the hilt of his saber that which he called Ren would fly back into his grasp. He could attack again, every muscle inside of him burned, nerves on fire, blood boiling. He looked to the both of them, even as the Master of Ren attempted to keep his stone stance. His stance felt wobbly for he tried to recover. "This is only once Jedi... If I see you again... I will not offer the same mercy again... Perhaps you will witness the great work resume as it had long ago." His words cryptic making waves of the past. The work of the Second Great Hyperspace War would resume, but this time failure would not occur. Imperial Supremacy would reign across the galaxy and it all began here...​

 

[Gnost Zym]

Ko Vuto​

---

Darth Howl wheezed through his mask growing even weaker.

"See...you soon."

Ko's lightsaber plunged through his chest and the Sith acolyte collapsed in a smoking ruin. His body showed no signs of life while his presence in the Force ebbed away into nothing. Certain of victory, the young Jedi departed in his own time. Quiet reigned at last. Smoke coiled from the kel dor's back slowly fading into nothingness.

Then the body faded along with it.

A four fingered hand burst through splintered wood and ash. Howl rose unscathed from the remains of his fallen arboreal creation. It had been a fitting sacrifice for this moment. He breathed deeply through a fully operational breath mask. His apprentice continued to surprise him. Soon Ko would be ready for his Jedi Trials and yet the young kel dor's real training was incomplete.

"The Force shall free you apprentice," Howl whispered to no one, "Give it time."

 

[Thomas Barran]

7th Post

-TERROR PREVAILS-

THE_BLOODHOUND
GREAT KHAN OF THE SCAR HOUNDS
WARLORD OF RHIGAR & MAR'ZAMBUL
DIVINE CHAMPION OF MOTHER REBIRTH

Tags
Friend: Ardana Vorco Kroeger Maestus
Minako Aoki-Barran KN-967 TK-818 Kazian Blackwood
Jon Hojkstra Rath Nihro Salvor Thul

Foe: Ashley Nevermore Gress D'ran Makai Dashiell
Casteel Mer'taal Lycus Merita Alicio Organa
Silas Westgard Damian Du Couteau I'dadr Gargon Ruus Kote
Vo Pandyn Shev Skirata Anakwor Farlorn

A NEW CENTURY, A NEW TERROR II: ULTRAVIOLENT BEGINNINGS - PART 12

​

GREYZONE OUTPOSTS,
BATTLEFRONT: NORTH,
CINNEGAR, EMPRESS TETA (901 ABY)

-DARKHANS VII-

<"Ulusar! They're retreating">
<"Don't relax your posture, fighting-retreats attract errors! UNLEASH THE MOON CHILDREN!!!">

Though I get the feeling that such a deployment matters little now.
​

Looking up to the skies above, the darkening, overhanging shadow that loomed overhead seemed a little more targeted than any Dark-Imperial fleeting placements, especially with the evidencial spreading of it's reaching in a northward direction. Even with the great din and clamour of the Moon Children crashing down their unlocked gates to escape their cages, along with the great anguished, agonizing shrieks they carried with them into the streets beyond, there was nothing that could shake the dread of the orbital-clinging hull, approaching Khanate HQ with impunity as the Marauders below could only look up in awestruck fear.

​

'Oh, you rotten, decaying denizens of civilisation.... Lost too many of those ideals to which you clung before, and so fiercely that you no longer accept defeat with grace - SO PETTY YOU FIENDS HAVE BECOME!!!!'

Furious in his disdain, the hulking cyborg's disappointment was likely greater than even his skyward bellowing had indicated, as the fight was just starting to getting good before; having seemingly fooled himself into believing this war would be like the last, making the disappointment worse when the fight for Cinnegar began to bear signs of those Nail had fought before, trading back-and-forth as hostilities with potential for a real fight. But when the X-Wings were seen in the distance, escorting evacuations of GADF personnel and Mandalorian Protectors alike, there was no doubt that the sudden decision was designed to escalate the conflict and enmities between them, souring the thrill for the makings of a potentially-great rivalry for the ages.

A vainglorious hope, one such that didn't suit a veteran of three wars.

'ULUSAR, TAKE COVER!!!!'

Too late for that, Ratchet....
Their hand is played, trapped to the great game - as we are now.

Our fates are in the hands of the Avatars now.
​

'ULUSAR, PLEEEEASE!!!!'

With arms spread wide, challenging the weight of advanced, fleet-shot firepower, the hulking cyborg smiled for the first time in what felt like years before that day, even closing his eyes to the world around him as the great test of faith had finally found a Darkhan. As it had with the Mongrel's chosen successor, the guardians of the Warlord's tomb would know what it meant to stand defiant in Mother Death's little game of chicken with existence itself - a little bet between mortals and the very Avatars to whom they still prayed.

'MOTHER REBIRTH - SMILE ON YOUR FAITHFUL SON!!!!'

​

The smile was serene, widening further in ecstatic joy as the shadow suddenly became light beyond the scrunched-shut barrier of the eyelids, gathering with a warmth unlike any that Nail's face and head had ever felt before that fateful day. Regardless of whether fate would rather he died in the same way as his Khan, the hulking cyborg was glad to test his faith in much the same fashion as his one-eyed friend, just as Thomas had on Tython, embracing the outcome as barraging artillery cast mayhem in every direction around him. Nail had only managed to catch a shortlived glimpse of Barran's act of faith at the time, but in the fleet few seconds the Darkhan had been granted to see it, enough was revealed in the process to decide this would one day befall Nail in turn.

'SMILE ON YOUR FAITHFUL S-'

A NEW CENTURY, A NEW TERROR II: ULTRAVIOLENT BEGINNINGS - PART 13

​

MARIMA BOULEVARD,
BATTLEFRONT: NORTH,
CINNEGAR, EMPRESS TETA (901 ABY)

'I've died this way before, as you'll know already.... Perhaps fortune may smile on me this time.'
​

Expecting this only from the Sith-Imperials in the past, Barran found himself feeling quite surprised by Cinnegar's quickness to martyr itself by way of orbital bombardment, though not pleasantly so, not in any way, shape or form. Thomas clearly couldn't allow himself to believe this was the will of a city it's defenders had fought thrice to save, doggedly holding out in the attempt to wrest this sprawling metropolis from the hands of Chaos, subconsciously understanding already that such orders were only ever given by strategists with no stake in a planet's defence, just like the Sith-Imperial official who ordered the orbital strike on Ziost.

In the two-score years since the Maw's last battle with the Galactic Alliance, it was becoming clear to the Bloodhound that their enemies had fallen far from grace, perhaps a little too far to be considered redeemable in the next battle - perhaps even irredeemable enough to meet with the worst of radicalized programming.

To meet with nought but it's workings of oppositional-dehumanization henceforth.

​

'Don't take this the wrong way, Great Khan.... But there are times, like these, like now - when you should think the most about shutting the kark up.'

All the dilapidated, crumbling streets ahead began to darken, one by one falling to the approach orbital shadow, and before long the Grey Zone would be overshadowed completely, along with a large portion of Cinnegar's Khanate-controlled districts. Darkest were the streets resting within Nail Darkhan's control, however, making the feeling of impending devastation seem all the more sickening to contemplate, as the Great Khan knew all too well that light enveloped the darkest of shades in suchlike predicaments, understanding that this meant the southern outpost was likely right beneath the very center of the destroyer's underside. The part of the lower-hull that opened up for the destruction wrought by the orbital laser-cannon within, unleashing the heat of a thousand suns on an indiscriminately-pathed trail of fire and death, power enough to vaporize and implode everything unfortunate enough to stand in it's way.

'We're about to lose more Marauders now than we have in the last twenty years, so act accordingly.'

​

In any other such matters of insubordination, Ghoul would likely have lost his head for the insult to the Bloodhound's authority, but in the high-pertinence, the ascendant extremes of loyalty, Barran couldn't help but respect his subordinate's heat-of-the-moment reaction. After all, there was never once a time before when the advices of the Darkhans had led their Great Khan astray, never once a time when Ghoul's roguish sort had even considered looking on the Bloodhound's often-pitiful state with disdain, concepts of which Thomas knew would never become factors - and certainly not for as long as Barran himself stayed the course set by the will of the Avatars.

'Any hope Brother Nail might survive it?'

With heart and stomach sinking, the one-eyed Woad would be trapped in the moment for as long as it would take to pass, along with everyone else bearing witness to the final defensive strike of the battle, transfixed with the definitive watershed moment of the next great Galactic war. Made all the worse by the Atrisian's hesitance to respond, though the Great Khan sensed his friend had assumed his question rhetorical, but when Ghoul finally found the heart to inquire,'Did you survive it, Great Khan?', the Bloodhound realised there was much more to the Fourth Darkhan's hesitance than the sideward, silent glance implied. Nothing stood in the way of the Great Cycle, and in the wake of War's destruction, only fools would hope that Death wouldn't walk the rubble-covered wastes, and Rebirth was always poised to prepare her champion for adversity.

Memories then began flooding their way to the forefront of the mind, traumas revisited in the sudden, gathering glow above the northern districts, and Thomas was powerless against it's rushing tide of despair, fated to watch on as shadow became light before his very eyes. With death from above, the gathering rumble preceded the flash with enough force that the very ground began to shift beneath Barran's feet, and even in the shortlived blackout at the epicenter, not even the Bloodhound could bring himself to hope the dreaded storm wouldn't descend from orbit. That very same light of fire that kissed the Woad's skin almost thirty-five years before that day, numbing everything but Barran's sense of smell at the time, and when the flash eventually followed the thunder, that same scent would return in phantom form to haunt the Bloodhound once more.

~=Make.... Them.... Repent.=~
~=Nature - forgives - not.=~
​

'When the dust clears, we recover the remains of our martyrs.... All wounded, dead an' bereaved will return home - to Mar'Zambul.'

[EXIT THREAD]

​