Post #5
GALIDRAANI FREE-STATE
BLUE-HEART BRIGADE
Objective 1: HEARTS OF KYBER
Allies (NIO):
Lucien Dooku
Dante Corvus
Rurik Fel
Djorn Bline
Izoshi
Allies (NJO/GA/RGO):
Darth Imperius
Enemies(BotM):
The Mongrel
Kyrel Ren
Maestus
Caedis Umbrammor
Irratar Hemstagon
Erskine's Loadout
Primary: Custom Blaster-Pistol (Right-hip Holster - left-or-right hand draw)
Secondary: Basket-Hilted Vibrosword Claymore (Left-hip Sheathe - right hand wielding)
Last Ditch/Second-Blade: Fairbairn Vibroknife (Right-hip Sheathe - right-or-left hand wielding)
Pocket-Weapons: Gifted Brass-Knuckles from the Guv'Nah (Both Trouser-Pockets - akimbo wielding)
Blue-Heart Brigade (Mechanized-Infantry)
*Losses are always registered 1 post after the fact
126 Repulsorlift Tanks (-16)
12 Scout-AFVs (-4)
2 ACVs (-1)
1 Coy. Elite Riflemen
3 Plat. Quartermasters (Combat-Engineers)
1 Coy. Field-Medics
Birrell & Brand III - The Last Farewell
The enemies in the air had only just passed back the way they'd arrived, successfully pushing through Birrell's edge of the Galidraani right flank on their way to relative, snow-obscured safety, though it was painfully obvious they had every intention of returning to sacrifice the last of their numbers on payload expenditure, or (the more-destructive method) on suicide-crash impacts that would wreck multiple vehicles within range every time. Such a wild attack was only a precursor to a grander finale than that expected of lesser, saner pilots, and Brand had no intention of letting that happen; too much counted on his successful breach and overrunning of the opposing trenchlines, and though the first battle-line of tanks and AFVs were meeting varying degrees of accurate smoothbore success, the Northern-Galidraani Leftenant was completely adamant in his refusal for the remaining Blue-Hearts to become sitting-ducks to other waves of aerial ground-and-pound raids.
Debris was lying all over the place, that of Mawite and Imperial circulation alike, with colliding smoke-plumes that struck two-toned shrouds across the frozen landscape; bodies strewn across the valley floor, some dead, some twitching in their death-throes, and some writhing around in burned or dismembered agony, it was all becoming so hellishly familiar to Leftenant Brand in that moment. However, understanding that seeing such carnage so early on in the battle was instilling a fearful urgency that was beginning to affect his ability to focus properly, bringing out a hasty sense of urgency that was threatening to unravel the Brigadier-General's best-laid plans. Compounding these hastening fears soon after, with a sound the Blue-Hearts knew all too well, was the not-so-distant echoes of speeder-bike engines growling from the hillside trenchlines in the east; a sound the Galidraani learned both to love and to hate when they fought the Sith Empire on Generis, an auditory reminder that the threats laying beyond could still sally out and outmaneuvre the Free-State's offensive-line.
'If we can hear that over the AP-shellings, means there'll be more than those Sith had, much more. I can only hope you know what you're doing, sir.'
Same 'ere, Corporal. Same 'ere....
Yet something turned the tide for the Blue-Heart right flank in that moment, and though it was completely unexpected, (and from a faction they never even knew they could count on before) the sight of the Rimguard Order's personnel-carriers approaching orbit had dragged their morale from a routing-precipice and instilled a hope the Commonwealth forces thought would evaporate to fatalistic extremes. The Galidraani contingent wanted to push on, willed more than most to wipe out as many Mawites as humanly possible, but being rocked so early in the battle threw doubts into the ranks like never before, a brand new challenge for Blue-Heart Battalion to overcome, a fresh roadblock that stood in the way of their perpetual fight for survival. Little did the rankers know at the time, but the shock and awe was yet to awaken their collective fighting spirit, and in a way that would give them courage (and resolve) enough to retain the fighting advantage once more.
<"Birrell to AFV One! Can you hear me, mate? Please tell me you do-">
And the shock and awe would arrive in the nick of time, like a beacon in the night, in the form of a familiar voice on the local comm-link channel; one such that awakened every sense like a jump-starter had electrified the very essence of Brand's soul, one such voice that AFV One was sure he'd never have the honour of hearing again. Yet something was off, the voice of his friend didn't sound as strong, or as confident as it did before the Athysian radier's aircraft had turned to fight their way back to the west, and in that moment, the AFV commander began to understand that the blessing would reveal it's true face as the ugliest of curses. Horror, grief, and despair, parading around in the skin of his mortally-wounded friend, proverbially waving Birrell around in Brand's face in an effort to tease the AFV commander for holding to his naive hopes and prayers.
'-Brand to Goliath One! Loud an' clear, but there's something in your voice that tells me it's not all good news. Please tell me I'm wrong.'
<"Birrell to AFV One! Genuinely wish I could, mate. Me guts are 'angin' out, left 'and is mangled, legs are blown off - it's not lookin' too good for Goliath One. So I'm just patchin' through to make me fare-thee-wells, as everyone else in 'ere feels just as chit as I do, an' we want the agony to end. Is that too much to ask, Phil? Is it?">
'Brand to Goliath One! Of course not, I'd ask the same of you in your shoes.... But what exactly is it that your heart's set on doing, mate?'
Even with the intensifying noise of the swoop bikes' engines in the distance inadvertently threatening to distract the AFV commander, he knew, deep down in the farthest recesses of his soul he knew exactly what Goliath One was planning, but Brand still needed to hear it from Birrell's mouth personally. The Northern-Galidraani duo were too busy to give voice to their silent assumptions, as at the time they arrived to see the Mawite trenchlines in the distance, both Birrell and Brand correctly surmised the first trenchline would be rigged to detonate like FN-999 had on Csilla, understanding without a second thought that these raiders, marauders and cultists were quicker learners than all their previous opposition combined. A moment that brought every semblance of joy crashing down, though in those moments before the Mawite aircraft made their fateful u-turn, the duo had no chance of knowing, nor were they even given enough time to consider it for discussion; a sad moment that would later be recalled with regret as one of the unavoidable constants of war at the time, though expressed with caution for future generations of Blue-Heart officers.
<"Was good knowin' ya, Brand. I'll be sure to send me best to Davis and Co. Just 'old the line until the very last moment, you'll know it when ya see it. Trust! Last communication: Goliath One out, archiving callsign for reallocation!">
This galaxy is fething cursed! From one corner to the next, the cosmos I've grown to love has condemned me to an 'orrible death. So be it....
Turning back to his top-down blip-display of the battle, AFV One saw thirty Goliath tanks and two AFVs pushing off from the line; driving slowly towards the first trenchline from the far-right flank of the formation, the ugly truth of Goliath One's intentions was beginning to rear it's truest, most grotesque of faces, one such that took everyone else by surprise in that moment, flooding Brand's comm-link unit with calls for reasons why the other Commoner-Leftenant was making a suicidal charge for the rigged Mawite trenchlines. Uphill, where all the swoop-bikes were readying to descend the mountain, all the forces under direction from the Mongrel could see all that was happening with their own pairs of eyes; thirty-two armoured Galidraani vehicles, badly damaged and barely running on the broken bodywork-plating, spreading out and bearing down on the first trenchline with patience for the deaths they were soon to enjoy.
'Goodbye, Will. God can handle the rest! Good luck out there, mate.'
Another Ideal Battlefield VII - The Fog of War
Arriving on the scene at the alleviated former center of the first line, the Saga would feel more confident to cross the open ground to meet their Lord-Commander's eastern approach in the middle to save time. As soon as they were comm-linked properly, the report of Birrell's actions brought out a pride, and sadness in Barran that he never expected would kick him so soon; having never been able to admit that he called Goliath One,
"Friend", the severity of the kick to his soul also hit harder than Lord Erskine expected. To grow accustomed to losing colleagues was easy fare, but Barran always welcomed the adversity that came with rejecting that trained acclimatisation to it, as it made him stronger in battle, stronger in the knowledge that he was fighting for survival, for peace, but mostly in the hopes he could exact retribution with all the more prejudice in his heart.
<"This is gawnty hit Leftenant Brand like a sledgehammer..... Poor lad, but this is the stuff that forges wartime behemoths! Thrast even said so himself, mind? Saga Actual out!">
When the two vehicles made contact, Captain Dante Corvus mobilized his Myrmidons, and prepared to move into position when Barran bade kindly farewells and strategic advice for their part in the fight for the mountain surface of the Kyber caves. Corvus had gone up in the Woad's estimation since arriving to help, and had thus lifted the reputation of New Imperial stormtroopers in the process after the reacquaintance, showing grace and respect to the Galidraani dead to throw all of the Stormchaser's doubts to the wind on the matter. The First-Captain of the 173rd Legion, though his past with the 2nd Brigade's Brigadier-General had gotten off to a shaky start, had proven his worth in the eyes of his colleague; and after that moment, Dante would use jetpacks to veer out of range and circle round to the mountain's eastern face, taking their time to properly flank and cut off the Mawites' unlikely retreat.
Alone with his crew finally, they would aid in preparing scant, meagre funerary honours for the dead AFV crew, though almost dishonouring them by engulfing them in the flames of an incendiary grenade with the doors and viewports shut. Cremated in the coffins they'd driven less than an hour before, with all the vim and vigour of the Commonwealth's youth, reduced to bony, tormented ash; moments like this, in all their morbid distinctiveness, would be carried wherever the Saga's crew went, weighing heavy on heads, shoulders and hearts with all the rest of the horrors they'd be forced to recall in times of peace. Death, destruction, blood and agony was easy, for it ended just as quickly as it began for some, but actions such as these were the real lashes to the heart, actions that faithful men such as the crew of the Saga would have the hardest time reconciling with.
'Milord, your top-down's gawn a bit mental. Haud oan.... Milord! I think you might need ti see this!'
Another Ideal Battlefield VIII - Forward, Only Forward!
The latest arrivals on the Athysian dropships would even the balance of power on the field of battle, everyone inside Barran's ACV could tell, just by making one little glance at the Lord-Commander's map-holographic display; a new development that both frightened and encouraged the crewmen, ever searching for the perfect battle, but also constantly keeping their trained sense of static-line preservation as acutely prominent as possible. Though the Rim-Guard Order were yet to play their hand, all the warriors on the ground knew it was expected to greatly impact the balance of power, and implemented to a shock-and-awe effect. Everyone fighting both sides of the battle on the snow could see that the struggle for Ilum's orbit was raging more violently than ever, and even with all the smoothbores firing, tanks exploding and the likes, all the debris of Athysian and Rim-Guard construction had become eerily visible as the burning metallic chunks of death rained down around them; shimmering down to the pockmarked battlefield, intermingling with the blizzards and the smoke like it were an addition to a macabre festival of firepower, and suffering.
Though Deaney and Johnstone had no choice but to marvel at it in their push forward, the others were compelled to operate elsewhere within the Brigadier-General's ACV with the rising tide of hostility erupting around them on the map, but there was nowhere else Lord Erskine wished to be in that moment, unscrewing the cork of his Cladhan-filled hipflask and drinking the last remnants before he formulated his strategy on the spot. Running all the likelihoods, losses and damage-inflicted so far, their positioning and the likes in his mind, the Stormchase would settle into the role everyone in the New Order had attributed solely to him; adopting his glorified image as Tal's very-own bloodthirsty war-dog, as the Mongrel adopted his own for the Maw.
'Barran to AFV One! Head in the game, Leftenant! We'll discuss Commoner-Leftenant Birrell when all is said an' done here the-day, understood?'
<"Brand to Blue-Heart Alpha! Loud and clear, Milord! And thanks for that, was beginning to think I'd been left in the cold like you've been. Everything alright on your end, Milord?">
'Perfectly fine, Leftenant. Don't mention it.... Now, as for our immediate issues, record and relay as following; rotate the entire line rightwards, ten-degrees! Goliath One's forlorn hope will end as such, but not in vain. We charge the enemy lines, and we charge - as one! DIA SAOR GALIDRAAN!!!! DIA SAOR GU WOAD-MACUSHLA!!!! Blue-Heart Alpha out!'
Watching all thirty Goliaths and two AFVs almost two kilometers ahead, advancing at the highest gears their broken, mangled vehicles could give the broken, mangled crews operating within them, Barran and Murdoch couldn't help but purse their lips and nod in appreciation for the bravery of Birrell's forlorn charge, and silently vowed to make them proud in the following hours of the battle. The struggle for control of the Kyber-mining cave was finally in motion, and though their numbers had depleted drastically in the process, the crew of the Saga were readier than ever to get back at their opponents, readier than ever to grace the eternal crucible once more; and when every vehicle and infantry-position had finally shifted their arcs-of-fire to the right, the Lord-Commander knew this collective pivot would ensure the whole line could still engage their enemies' entire east-facing array without leaving their right flank open to sallying maneuvres.
'Barran to AFV One! It's time - order all units to advance at high-gear! Let's give these Mawites a proper Woadish riot!!!'
Ishida Ashina
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Rika Hiro
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