Operation: Centurion [OP vs OS]

[Noah Corek]

Location: Spirit of Druckenwell Drop Pod Bay
Enemies: OS and Vong
Allies: [member="Dicer"] [member="Racket"] [member="Ayden Cater"] [member="Sarge Potteiger"] [member="KX-13 Delta"] [member="Doctor Stormson"] [member="Rave Merrill"]
Objective: Hit it, Split and let her Daddy Deal with it
Noah looked on in silence as the door to the Tora Drop Pod opened and him along with three other Omega Pyre soldiers clambered into the pod and secured their weapons in racks above their heads. Sighing, Noah reached up to his head and turned on his radio, tuning it so it would broadcast to the 300 Pyre soldiers who were currently piling into the 75 pods, while there was in reality 100, the other 25 would be used for supplies and such. "Alright ladies and gentlemen. This is what we've been training for. For the past several months, all that pod drop training on Sullust has been in preparation for this day. On this day, we are taking the fight back to the Vong, but not only are we going to give them one hell of a black eye that they won't forget, but we're going to rescue the boss. That's right. I know that you guys have been wondering what exactly the objective of this mission is, but now I'm coming out and saying it. We are here to rescue Lady Protector Cira. So let that sink in." Noah informed them as he paused to let them digest the info. "Alright, now that that has set in lets get ready to drop boys and remember: You are the best soldiers in the galaxy. You've fought from Fondor to Gehenna from Druckenwell to Eridau. We will not fall, we will not falter, we will rescue Cira, or die trying!"

 

[Cassus De'Gaunt]

STAGING AREA: MEDICAL BAY
OBJECTIVE: DO MY JOB
ALLIES: CIRA RESCUE SQUAD
ENEMIES: DEATH, DISEASE, PANIC
MUSIC: DAISY by SWITCHFOOT

Suspense was a horrible thing. Hanging over one like a bird of prey over a dying animal. Everyone in the room was feeling it. We were being watched. By the Gods, by the Force, by the Universe itself. Every one of us held our breath, waiting, thinking, hoping. Suspense filled the air, surrounding us, choking us within it's horrid claws. When would it break? Would we break first? All of us were struggling with the invisible feeling. Breathing slowly, trying to keep our thoughts calm, praying that Cira would come home safe. Suspense was our real enemy here. It was the thing creeping up in our hearts and taking a hold of us. Good men had succumbed to it before. And good men would die because of it again. Some patterns did not end. Suspense was a thing of panic, a demon bound to men, bound to all of life that could both think and feel. Mortals could not escape it. We in this room, though we may choose to ignore it, are mortal. Every time a patient dies under are care we are reminded of the feebleness of our existence. Suspense kills us more than it would most. We never know when the next patient will arrive. Nor do we have any inkling if they'd make it out alive or not. Sometimes we didn't even know if they were going to get to us alive.

This was our life, our duty, as doctors. Our burden to bare.

Finally we were set free. If only for a time. The sound of clanging and a scream from down the hallway reached our ears. Two men rushed past me to investigate. No one else moved. One of the more experienced medics let out a sigh, rolling his eyes at the duo. I had to wonder why. "If anyone else moves a muscle they're fired. We're here to await Cira. Can't get distracted. The other teams can handle any idiots who get hurt. Understood?" He asked, snarling. That was something I didn't understand. This was our job. We were waiting for our Idol to arrive yes, but we were still medics. There would be some time before she arrived anyway. And by the look of the poor woman they carried into the room... we were needed now. Yet no one but the original two moved. Not a single soul. "Eridan, get an IV set up stat! Dr. Captor, I need you to get some bacta. And for heaven's sake Vriska, put down your datapad!" Everyone was surprised when I spoke. Even more so when I rushed to help the lass (who's arm appeared to have been crushed by something) without another word. For some time I had been known as a panicky, anxious nurse. Someone who didn't do well in the field. Things had changed.

Bending down I started to gather the Force.
It was time to do my job.

 

[Arage Bao]

Location: The Vongformed ruins of Aldera's palace.
Allies: The One Sith | [member="Silara Vantai"] | [member="Kezeroth the Hateful"] | [member="Tsavong Kraal"] | [member="The Hydra Queen"] | [member="Darth Acarus"] | [member="Reverance"]
Enemies: Omega Protectorate | [member="Ayden Cater"] | [member="Sarge Potteiger"] | [member="Rave Merrill"]
Objective: Obscure Objective To Show How Edgy I Am

...and so it was that the Protectorate had come to the peaceful worlds of the newly reformed Sith Empire to lay claim on Cira of Fondor, armies clashing, egos vying, all-out war and bloodshed for the hand and soul of one woman. Pretty heavy stuff.

Luckily the Vong turned Jedi wasn’t aware of said subtle secrets and simply stood somewhere close to the Hydra Queen, vowed to protect the Goddess and the Vessel.

Through this commitment he stayed stoic, his expression blank and awaited orders of any kind, trying not to think of his past and the people that were taken away from him.

 

[Racket]

Location: High In The Sky
Allie: Omega
Objective: Break the Chains that are Binding my Great Leader!!!!!!!!!!
[member="Noah Corek"], [member="Rave Merrill"], [member="Sarge Potteiger"], [member="Ayden Cater"], @Lancer Damar, [member="Dicer"], [member="KX-13 Delta"], [member="The Hydra Queen"], [member="Jonathan Walsh"]

Finding the Cira.​

That was all that mattered. The one leader who fought for everyone. The efforts to bring equality to the galaxy had changed the lives of trillions. It was all thanks to her unfaltering efforts. Racket, dare he think it, loved this woman. Not out of a needing to be together; no nothing of the sort. Her presence in this galaxy left room for hope in his little mutilated heart. There was a chance this fighting would amount to something.​

Then Someone went and stole that hope.​

Wrong move...........​

​

A wave of dots in the distance like a swarm of flies was rising through the atmosphere. Then little dots of light began to intersect their numbers. Beams of energy were the first, of both sides, attacks to intercept the forces reaching one another. Orders flowed into RAcket's head set while his fingers twitched on his 'spray death at the enemy' buttons surrounding him in his cockpit. The eyes and hands of the little rodent were moving in what appeared to be reflex except it wasn't. No, he was Responding and a hellofALOT faster than the Frackers in front of him.​

​

​

The ship flipped upside down, still held in formation, while spitting energy from it's three guns towards the enemy vessels. The little dots had meet and greeted Omega's forces while filling the interior space that separated Omega's fleet. This was what Racket lived for. Numbers from both forces zipped around while counter measures were calculated. The enemy fighters were separating Omega's numbers on the front line by decoying themselves. Most were finding death while others...... "FRaCk. They're splitting our numbers. Holes are opening. Keep them on the front line! Turn them back!!!" Two targets locked onto his 12 o'clock. Kamakzi's jumping the gun was not surprising but damn was effective. "Fracken Justice SUCKERS!!!!!" Racket screeched while evasive maneuvers were taken. Throttle shot down as did Racket's right hand on the yolk punching the nose as hard and as fast down as the vessel could manage. Enemy fire peppered his ship's ass but not enough to break his shields. The two enemy vessels bolted past his guard rushing for the second line of ships. "FRAck YoU!!!!!" Palm slapped the yolk to the left before yanking back up on it hard. The results twisted the ship on to her back in an upside down 360. Calculations of their efforts jolted his brain. The two vessels that had just shot passed him were heading for the drop ships. "I'm breaking off. Squadron two hold this line!"​

"These were not your orders soldier. Hold your position."​

​

"WHaT AbOUt OUR DrOp PoDs?!!" ​

"Losses are expected in every battle soldier. Your mission is on this line with us!" ​

"AAArGhGghghghHGhGHGHGH!!!! FRaCk THaT. I WoN'T wAtCH DeFEnsLeS VeSSeLS GeT ShOT FrOm OUr SkIES!!!!"​

"If you break rank you know the consequence."​

"I ExCepT."​

​

​

​

Racket's left hand slammed forward on the throttle. The chase was on.​

 

[Djorn Bline]

Location: With Master
Allies: One Sith
Enemies: Omega Protectorate
Objective: To be determined

Among the many ranks of warriors that surrounded the Hydra Queen, like bees to a hive, was a Warrior that had been accepted within the ranks after his awe transformation when he was captured and brought to a Vong Shape Shifter. Curiosity there was, for the Hydra Queen could have killed the Warrior when she had the chance. But she saw something in him and decided to make him hers, for she wanted possession over him. And it was noted from the eyes of many. Canal was the only favorite of the Hydra Queen. She treated him with love and with kindness. He was her doll, and he allowed her to do anything to him.

Some days she was angry and threw him around the place, other days he was caressed by her. And he enjoyed it.

He had strict and close loyalties to his Queen after his transformation. He could care less about the Sith or Vong creatures, but he only cared about his Queen, his Master. Heck, if she left him to die he wouldn't even give a damn, not one milligram of it.

Coming up to the Queen, the Warrior then positioned himself in a kneeing position in front on his Queen and asked her.

"What is your bidding, Master?"

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Location: Dropping
Allies: [member="Rave Merrill"]
Enemies: Errybody

The man gave a grunt of confirmation to the woman, although he said little else. To say his nerves were shot was being generous. The minutes ticked by, and when the coordinates were input, the lights outside the pod turned a deep red. "Deep striking." The words were spoken as a reverent chorus, each warrior reveling in the sensation of dropping into combat; into dropping into the heart of the enemy to save their Lady. Their voices were raised as one, just as they fell as one.

Angels of death.

Angels of redemption.

The honored dead.

Whatever they would become that day, whoever may fall, Sarge cared only for the safe return of one. But at what point did the cost become too much? He was unsure. That was for greater minds for him to decide. The pod jolted as they hit atmosphere, the tight confines shaking as reentry heated the hull and turned them into a comet streaking from the sky. Two seconds. Impact.

The doors opened with a near blinding light as their artificial darkness was replaced by the world around them, and they were greeted by Chaos. Bolters, plasma cannons, flamethrowers and disrupters. All were raised as one as disciplined volleys of fire created corridors for the Marines to regroup, 400 strong. "Rave. You will lead." Sarge stepped from the pod, halberd swinging to decapitate a Vong that had survived near impact. "We shall follow."

The implicit understanding was that he was trusting her. Deeper still was the vague threat that she had better not fail his trust. It was clear there was nothing more important to this soldier than that woman.

 

[Veino Garn]

While the grand armada of the Omega Protectorate appeared in massive strength and flashed their lights in unison, a small Tachyon class freighter wobbled out of hyperspace and hung a significant distance away, still wobbling. Some might assume the pilot was an ace and itchy to get into action, or perhaps one of the individuals gifted with precognition and enhanced reflexes subtly reacting to future events. While the pilot was indeed one of those individuals, that was not why the ship wobbled.

It wobbled because, quite frankly, Veino Garn, former Imperial Cadet of the Fel Imperium, ally the Republic Jedi, Jensaarai of Susefvi, and once dubbed Hero of Cloud City, was a terrible pilot. So he sat in the cockpit of his freighter, face very pale, knuckles very pale, and lips moving rapidly in such a way that would make even the hardiest soldiers blush if they could read lips.

The irony was that he had been trained for combat piloting with the Jensaarai and the Fel Imperium. He had taken to it like a fish to calculus. There was just something about trying to navigate in space that made his stomach forget which way the artificial gravity was set too and his brain thought it was an entirely different direction.

Which led to the question why he looked as if he had just been visited by death in a tutu in a small freighter in what looked like the largest space battles he could remember above one of the most heavily fortified hostile planet, one on which he had already fought two battles for, and preparing to do something other than get out of town.

For that, dear reader, we must step back through the stream of the Force that binds all living things together, and the past to the future, the possible to the present, and the threads of destiny that led millions of individuals to this planet at this specific time.

For Veino, it was an encrypted message on his comlink long after the sun set but equally long before it rose again on Ossus. He stumbled out of his cot to answer it, and stuttered as the image of Lareena Thornn appeared. He quickly tried to make himself more presentable, but she waved a hand at him.
"Defender Garn, I am sending you a location and a time. Be there. I and your home will thank you." Veino opened his mouth to reply, but the message had already ended.

So here he let his ship drift momentarily, staring in horror at a web of laser fire between him and sweet, solid ground. If only Roth was here to fly instead.

 

[Dicer]

Dicer kept his head down as his fire team advanced through the alien terrain. Blaster bolts and strange bio-weapons arced overhead. He led his small team to a crater in what had been a road. Vong formations reached up the remains of buildings on either side of them. They'd landed not long ago and immediately come into contact. Hordes of reptoids, driven on by thralls had attack their position. They'd driven them off, but the enemy had attacked in depth and they were making slow progress.

The ODF now had a whole new set of manuals for dealing with the Vong. Standard doctrine was of little use. The vong forces typically engaged at very close ranges, but you couldn't sit back and wait. They could overrun positions with nigh indestructible warbeasts that carried thousands of their disposable troops.

So far they hadn't met any real vong. Reptoids armed with chitin carbines and they wicked bladed weapons. The enemy had fortified positions with some coral-type out cropping and blast bug launchers. One of the company had already fallen for a singularity mine. The Company off to their right had been more fortunate. They'd fallen back and drawn out the thrall, killing it with mines. Their opposition had crumbled and they were rapidly flanking the enemy positions.

Dicer indicated for his fire team to keep down. They were close to the enemy position and had to coordinate with firesupport. His HUD showed an accurate countdown. On cue a series of mortars landed behind the fortifications, a series of repeater blasts cut into the enemy from an elevated position.

"Now," Dicer whispered. Several grenades were thrown as they jumped up from cover and attacked with several other assault teams. Curtis was first over the fortifications. A quick burst of blaster fire downed the nearest reptoids as a thud bug whizzed over his head. Another of the creatures charged, but he gunned it down.

"Bring down the blast bug launcher!" he shouted.

 

[Reverance]

Location: Street somewhere
Allies: One Sith, [member="The Hydra Queen"], [member="Cira"]
Enemies: Protectorate
Objective: Requesting additional pylons (moving towards the fight)
Theme: Has one bad word in it, repeated numerous times. 99 problems, yo.

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nmy113gMds0

And how can a man die better,​

Then facing fearful odds,​

For the ashes of his fathers,​

And the temples of his Gods.​

​

The early morning skies lit up like fire across the horizon, torpedo like volleys cut through the sky with an almost breathless ease. The Sith Lord shook his head as he looked up, a volley of fire bouncing off a nearby building and landing into a poor...innocent...Vong. NOOOO, you poor Vong! Despite their intentions, thought Gabriel, these maniacs had literally dove into the clutches of hell. The light posts were thick with decorations, haze blocking view by the thamasshes emitting their vapors. A Vong in the dark by any means, cues of the defense forces would seemingly appear from nowhere, figures in the dark before they hit someone right in their squishy protectorate face. Roaming Warkeepers worked in protection of the thrall herders, equipped with dovin basals, armor, and firing splashing volleys of fire plasma towards the landing pods filled with meaty gushy protectorate bits, just waiting to be consumed. Hardly a shot could penetrate these moving units, the protectorate would need to get close, get real close, to do the damage they needed. Reptillian rakamats fired their Yaret-Kors into the sky, intercepting the poor souls within the descending landing vessels who were unfortunate enough to be targeted by the 20 meter monsters. The volleys that missed would descend upon the landed. Chazrach slaves clung to the hides of rakamats and thrall herders, waiting to jump free and attack at the command of proximity. They would swing their coufee with a sort of majestic form of clumsy bravery, akin to a ground wasp flinging itself at a human, giving life and limb for their loving slave masters. Dovin basals against their body, rakamats projected microsingularities as they moved upon six legs. Warmasters of the Vong defense corralled the beasts equipped with dovin basals, preventing impact on one another that could result from falling into each others pull of gravity.

When intercepted, Grokata applied enormous vacuums to things around them, sucking up any helpless little protectorate peoples into the acidic stomach within. Yummy little protectorate morsels. 17 meters in height, they weren't just hungry, they were big and hungry, squawking in revelation of the meal to come. Giant Firebreathers lurched with purpose, spewing a mixture of methane and hydrogen sulfide, producing a chemical akin to napalm. It's hide was thick, a blast from a turbolaser would be needed to puncture this monster. It would target freshly cracked pods, looking to cook the yolk within...protectorate yolk.

Gabriel hadn't reached the party quiet yet, seemingly surprised with the speed of which the defenses of the planet were pierced by the invaders. Nevertheless, they would fall...literally. He began a slight jog, evading Vong for their odd Vonginess. He would have to deal with them presently, why force it? Sometimes you have to ease into a relationship. He made his way to the Sith Forces, a unified front presenting a bigger issue than those dispersed.

 

[Nyos Val]

Location: Orbital Drop Sarge's unit.
Objective: Retrieve [member="Cira"]
Allies: OP @Dicer@Veino Garn[member="Sarge Potteiger"]@Racket@Doctor Stormson Etc.
Enemies: OS @Reverance@Canal Tal'Verda[member="Nui Akona"] Etc.
Gear: Sith Hunter Gear in Bio

Dropping for orbit, the Warrior turned Doctor turned Inventor had not been in the field in some time, he felt a little rusty. His new armor latched and charged, ready for action. As well as his pack, which held inside, a secret weapon. He felt the shaking of the descent, the count down timer hit 10 seconds.

Nyos took deep breathes to calm his nerves. 3...2...1...touchdown. His hatch opened on the drop pod and he filled out with the rest of the OP units that hit the dirt in the opening of the skirmish for Cira.

Sarge and Rave lead the way and Nyos fell in line. Not drawing a weapon yet, as he waited to see what the Vong brought before he showed his hand.

"Boots on the Ground Sarge. Let's get our lady back!!"

 

[Velok the Younger]

Vong. An awful lot of Vong. Biots, warbeasts, everything.

"Stay close to me."

She got her bearings on the blood trail and vanished from the Force, subsuming herself in the alternate perception, the alternate power, for which she'd sacrificed so much. Beneath the ooglith cloaker that made her seem a normal human, her scars itched furiously. Her Shaper insight and her potent Vongsense reached out and touched the opposition.

The beasts of the Vong, their minions, their soldiers -- all of it decided to go elsewhere. All of it that got close, anyway, close to her and [member="Sarge Potteiger"] and a handful of his people. Without remorse, she shunted away the opposition, sent it at all the other Protectorate targets. The blood sea parted, and the woman in golden leather sprinted right down the middle, presumably with space marines at her back.

The enemy would compensate. Other units with greater agency, or more yammosk attention, or something along those lines. For the moment, anything that would answer a shaper's command or the will of a Vongsense-powered beastmaster decided it was a good idea to get the feth out of the way of her personal charge toward [member="Cira"].

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Sarge gave what could only be termed a growl as [member="Rave Merrill"] lead him through a parted Vong Sea. Any that strayed too close took bolter rounds to the face, or, if they were exceptionally unlucky, a halberd. Any larger beasts were met by the smoking contrails and encompassing explosions that were shoulder fired missiles, and anything too large for those...

Well, they had more than enough air support to secure the entire atmosphere. There was nothing to say to [member="Nyos Val"] as Sarge powered his way forward, his marines and himself moving at furious speed to follow the Blood Trail to its end.

"Close." He whispers inside his helmet. "I'm close." Not that she'd be able to hear it.

[member="Cira"] [member="Ayden Cater"]

 

[Hailey Sosis]

Location: sith temple
Allies: The One Sith
Enemies: Omega Protectorate

She stopped training, the whole class did for the matter. The teacher then the told students, Get rid of your training weapons, the training has ended. The war is upon us, tonight you fight death glory of our emperor! Harley smiled, as there was finally an enemy to fight, she might gain some respect after this battle was won. She head outside and looked up, there was hundreds of dropships coming down. Though ground defence was shooting a fair few down as well. There was one question though, where was the sith fleet. Had it been beaten so quickly, or was on the way to fight back. Though for now this did not matter, her duty was simple and bloody, and to be honest the way she wanted it.

She raced to the wall`s and waited for to find out were she to be sent, after all the sith were the hunters. Not this rabble that had come to their planet. She saw sith troops, running about getting guns ready. This was going to be one hell of a battle, and tonight she drunk.

 

[Nyos Val]

Location: Down the Center Isle of the Blood Trail
Objective: Retrieve [member="Cira"] For Sarge
Allies: OP [member="Rave Merrill"] [member="Sarge Potteiger"]
Enemies: OS [member="Harley"] etc.

Following the trail down with the rest of Sarge's men, he was amazed to see Rave's power. He'd never seen the alchemist in action until now. Sarge was no surprise, anything that didn't bow to Rave's will was slaughtered by Sarge like they were children against a god.

A few Vong beasts ventured close and in one move, Nyos drew his vibrosword and the Ravenclaw and slew it to pieces. He ran to Sarge's left and kept the pace of the troop easily. His rusty legs were in full swing and he felt like he was back to his former fighting self, Bando Gora fighting self. They were closing the distance needed to gaining access to Cira. Finally, after so long, Nyos could see his savior again. She'd rescued him long ago from the wondering path he'd chosen, made him a soldier in her army and he fought for her like he fought for his maker.

"Come you Vong dogs, come taste my steel!" He said to no one in particular.

 

[Dicer]

The Chazrach were scattering before their assault. Dicer's boot pinned down one of the reptoids that was too wounded to retreat, he ended its existence with a single blaster bolt. Cold and ruthless, was that all he was now? No it was only a mindless reptoid he decided, and this was war. Mindless. That was right, the Chazrach only stopped fighting when their herder was destroyed or they were ordered to do so. For some reason they were redeploying to their right. That was for men way above his pay grade to worry about.

His platoon was reorganised and they followed the path laid out through the vong-formed city by a recce team. They were one of two spearheads that was rapidly advancing in parallel to [member="Sarge Potteiger"] and his team. Once they had broken through past the palace, the echelons of attacking forces would turn outwards and dig their heels in. Their job was to hold off the vong hordes whilst the extraction was completed. So many good men and women of the ODF army would die today. So many already had. 3rd battalion had almost been wiped out by a Rakamat and it's magma cannons before they could concentrate their fire on it. Close air strikes and a precision artillery strike had been required to bring the beast down. Dicer had heard the noise of that battle in the distance before the report filtered down.

"Vong!" someone called. They took cover almost immediately. Whilst not the top priority target, they were considered high threat. With their amphistaffs they could decimate infantry squads up close as effectively as a Jedi.

An icon appeared on Dicer's HUD as he peered through the smoke. Yes, half-hidden behind some cover a hundred metres away.

"Eyes on!"

"Target sighted!"

They held their ground for a moment, before the creature leapt over cover. It started to limp away, clearly wounded. It must have decided to stay in position for one last fight. It wouldn't get one. Crab armour was tough, but several squad's firepower was focussed on the lone Yuuzhan Vong. It glowed with heat as streams of blaster fire poured into it and it dropped to the floor and lay still.

"Keep moving, keep watching!"



OOC/ Not far off to the right of Sarge and Rave. Making quick inroads and preparing to cover the flanks as they head into the palace. A similar force of infantry is on the left.

 

[Khallesh]

Khallesh crouched in the remains of tower of metal and stone. Her keen eyesight, developed over hundreds of generations of Hunters, surveyed the hordes of infidels coming towards them. Their own forces seemed to part before the spearhead of the attack. Odd, but it was not her place to question the orders of the Commanders, or the [member="The Hydra Queen"] that stood amongst them. Perhaps her mind could stretch to question that of course. Why would Yun-Harla take the body of an infidel, even one reshaped and escalated? Perhaps a god required an empty vessel to walk among them. Either way there were far too many Escalated and filthy half-breed Myrshavong around for her liking.

Her amphistaff writed up her body, laying its head to rest on her shoulder. Khallesh idly ran a fingertip down its spine. Soon, soon it would be time to prove the superiority of the Yuuzhan Vong.

“Your orders Subaltern?” a male Hunter asked as if on cue.

Khallesh placed her helmet over her ashamedly blemish free face. Unlike some dominions, hers believed that blessed pain had to be earned in battle. She turned to her six strong infiltration team. Decked out in Vonduun Skerr Kyrric and Cloaks of Nuun, they would work their way behind the lines of infidels, seek out their commanders and disrupt their forces.

“We move though the city,” she said pointing out the path she had chosen. “We come around behind the enemy spearhead and look to disrupt their command and mechanical monstrosities.”

There was no questioning, even though this was her first battle commanding them. They placed great faith in her abilities to give her such a position unproven. It was time to prove herself.

 

[Dicer]

Being quick on your feet, as it turned out, was a remarkably useful skill to have when thud bugs were being thrown around. Dicer had learned to dive and roll, before looking for the large insects and try to get a bead on them. Kesh from his fire team had not been so lucky. The damned thing had caught her in the chest so hard it had ruptured something inside her.

Their forces had fallen back to regroup, or they'd been pushed away by some unseen force. However, they'd left plenty of resistance in their wake. Singularity mines, pockets of Chazrach, even the odd Yuuzhan Vong that gladly laid down its life to resist them. It was disturbing how readily they all met death.

Dicer gave a hand signal and one of his fire team burst into the door of the building. It was now covered with Vong creations. New life built on the old bones of the past. Just as the shapers did with organic creatures, Curtis reflected. There was a screech and the zap of a scattergun. As he'd suspected there had been reptoids lying in wait.

As he started to cross the threshold himself he heard a cry of warning. He turned to see three of the lizards rushing around the side of the building towards him, wicked organic knives in hand. Blaster fire from another fire team cut down two of them, but Dicer turned too slowly to stop the last.

It collided with him, dragging him down to the ground. He heard the clang of the knife hitting his breastplate. There was a scratching sound as the blade searched for a weak spot. His left forearm slammed into the creature's neck, which his right reached for his sidearm. He didn't even know where his carbine had gone. The blade edged closer to his neck and he writhed in panic.

There was a red flash and the Chazrach fell onto him. There was a crack as it was kicked off by his ASL Haden. The big man sent it flying and then fired at it a few more times to be certain.

As he was hefted back to his feet there was no time for embarrassment. There was work to be done. He went back into the building, working his way up a few floors with the squad. His SL smashed a reptoids to death against the wall with his bare hands, terrain old bastard.

"Oh feth," Dicer moaned. They had reached a window, and we're about to set up repeater nests. Through the window they had a good view to cover the approach. They also had a good view of the reorganised horde in the distance.

"Hah plenty for us all!"

Dicer turned to look at his squad leader incredulously. The man needed a fresh psyche eval.

 

[Khallesh]

Khallesh picked her way through the rubble. The enemy’s infernal machines had wiped out the life in this sector, clearing a path for their forces. Such devastation applied blindly to the living world that the shapers had meticulously grafted. It angered Khallesh beyond belief.

The - what was their word again? The squad of Omega soldiers sent one of their number back towards their lines. Probably to pass back a message without giving away their position with some mechanical device. Khallesh waved her team of hunters up to them. They'd followed the reconnaissance team for a few minutes now, but it was time to be done with the game.

She held out her hand and the amphistaff slithered into her hand willingly. With a gentle tap it stiffened to a spear. Her excitement built, she had trained endlessly for this. Finally, she would meet the enemy in battle. She uttered a silent prayer to the Twin Gods and leapt over the cover and dashed towards them. With her Cloak of Nuun they didn't even see her initial approach. She arm whipped around and the amphistaff scythes through the air, tail first.

Khallesh stretched out her legs, eating up the ground between her and her prey. The staff caught one of the soldiers square in the chest, impaling him. She followed closely after grasping the head of her staff with both hands and kicking the soldier off the other end. There was a bright spray of red blood as the human fell away. Without pause she flicked out the amphistaff as a whip, curling it around a soldier's arm. Her armour had few spikes, she preferred mobility. However her forearms and elbow were spiked and as she pulled the soldier towards her easily with a flick of the whip, her left elbow skewered his neck.

It was already over. The rest of her team had finished them off. Her breath was hard, but that had been all too easy. Perhaps they were correct; only the Jeedai were truly worthy of combat.

She noticed one of the infidels trying to crawl away like an insect. Her amphistaff wrapped around its leg and brought it back to her. She grasped it by the helmet and easily lifted it off the ground and watched it writhe.

"Why do you not meet your creator with pride?" she asked, sullying her tongue with the infidel's language. Quick as a flash she brought him back down to the ground, dashing his head against a concrete slab.

Without another word, the hunters moved on through the city.

 

[Dicer]

The reptoids came at them, wave after wave. They rushed on, heedless of the devastation being wrought upon them by the heavy Protectorate weaponry. Dicer tried his best to pick his shots carefully, to conserve his power packs. When the enemy was without number and fear, it was hard not to panic and hold the trigger down.

He wasn't the best soldier, far from it, but he knew a defense was only good as long as it could be turned to offense quickly. They didn't have that option. They had to hold this position as long as it took for their elite team to pull the Lady Protector out of the maw of hell itself. He had to admit, he'd probably rather hold the line with the men and women of the 5th beside him, than go into the palace.

A final volley of mortar fire scattered this wave of Chazrach. They'd be back soon.

"Softening us up," the Sergeant admitted. "The big beasts will be along soon to try and break us soon, you'll see."

 

[Reverance]

Location: En Route, coming behind current forces, on the Streets.
Allies: One Sith, [member="Cira"]
Enemies: Protectorate
Objective: Make way towards allies, potentially taking control of wavering defenses
Listening to:

Spoiler

[media]https://soundcloud.com/nicolasdelrio/the-devil-in-i-slipknot[/media]

Light jog turned into a full sprint as the rancor hilt jumped from the backplate into free right hand. Left forearm lifted to cover the debris that blasted outward from the landing of the disoriented pod, apparently way off on their route. Dust billowed out, the body of the Sith Lord veered right, running up the side of a destroyed Vongformed beasts carcass. The pod cracked open, the cloud of dust still tumbling out against the relatively open area. Steam and air reserves stumbled out as the Protectorate troops lunged forward, firing their rifles at those Vong and their Vongy crab armor. Low visibility, not very effective, they sprayed and prayed. Gabriel, from the running form, vaulted and spun from first step. Drifting just over the first soldier, his spin continued with violent speed as his knees locked around the helmeted ears of the first soldier. CRACK goes the neck! The soldier felt his life drift from his the body as the Sith Lord rode him down, crimson saber igniting.

A force pull, hand gesticulating out, tossed one soldiers weapon into the helmet of the next, as Gabriel rolled forward and stabbed upward. Crimson saber found the opening in the armor of the recently unequipped, just at the abdomen. Extinguishing the saber and spinning violently, he re-ignited the saber and sliced the soldier behind him in half, just across the waist. The Protectorate pawn stayed put for a moment as Gabriel quickly placed his attention on the next man. With the extinguish of the saber, the Protectorate soldier charged with melee weapon in hand, the vapors emitted by the Vong street light ornaments made firing weapons problematic. Gabriel forced pushed the assailants feet out from underneath him, catching his descending chin with the extinguished root cavity of the saber. Finding no fear, the Sith Lord positioned the recently vulnerable in between himself and the last of the soldiers. Gabriel looked down upon the man, the soon departed.

"Your efforts...are admirable. It's unfortunate you couldn't have landed 10 kilometers away, perhaps you would have found your equals...Instead of me."

With the depression of the switch, the blast of the saber ignited out of the back of the soldiers neck, skewering him in place, as Gabriel unsheathed the sith dagger from his back. Just as the soldier looked to fire upon him, Gabriel tossed the metal dagger, underhanded, towards the unarmored throat of the soldier. It caught him by surprise as he fired his rifle into the air in an arc, falling back against the base of the pod. Running forward, Gabriel lunged and kicked the weapon from hand, bouncing it into the opened pod. The soldier struggled, spitting up blood, as Gabriel knelt down and removed his helmet from his head. Sliding the dagger from flesh, uncleaned from blood, he re-sheathed it and lifted the soldiers head from the ground. He wanted to share this moment with him, to experience that final glide down. He didn't blame the soldiers, they were doing as they were told, an unfortunate waste of resources. And Gabriel could understand the pull of the body to battle for righteous purpose. Soldiers were far more esteemed in his eyes, then say the likes of bounty hunters and mercenaries. Before the lights went out, Gabriel gave the faintest hint of recognition.

"You did well...making it this far." The soldier breathed his last wet breath in agony, a triumph of it's own, to go in such formidable ways. Gabriel couldn't help but feel the slightest tinge of envy, being so overwhelmingly taken in battle. One day, he thought, as he dropped the mans head against the ground and stood up, signalling for the Vong forces to continue their march towards the insurgents. Another battle somewhere else was calling to him, the sirens and the smell of dispatched Vong, cooking in their armor, were the signals that dictated his direction. In another time, in another situation, with more opponents, would likely not rear it's head. But for now, he would take the time to enjoy himself.

Spoiler

[member="Matsu Xiangu"]