Operation Hammerfall | Invasion of Mandalore and Concord Dawn [TSE/UCM]

[Skorvek]

Location: Or'dinii Mining Complex
Objective: Defeat the commander...or atleast try too
Allies: UCM
Enemies: The Sith [member="Taeli Raaf"]

It appears that neither was going to take the first strike before the other instead Taeli reverted to a standard sith tactic of attacking at his pride hoping to gain some reaction, But he has played this game before while it did sting he learned to not fall so easy to it but they cant stand here staring each other down forever. If she wasn't going to start it first then he shall oblige first by kicking in the repulsor jets on his armor to give him a burst to get close as he kicked in the repulsors on the back to dart him forward as he went for a jab with the spear towards her right side , As he used his other hand to take out a Force breaker grenade and sealed his suit so he wont breathe it in before he activated it hoping to have it explode in her face. It was a long shot to keep her away from using the force and hopefully land a strike on her at the same time but he had to be careful not to underestimate this beast hes facing she may look frail in some parts but never underestimate a sith of any calibur even the small fish have a few tricks up there sleeves.

 

[Deram Carid]

S U N D A R I
L O W E R P A L A C E​

Ambushed!
Allies: UCM | Enemies: Sith forces​

Engaging: [member="Darth Ophidia"]​

The Sith dropped smoke, filling the corridor with billowing masses of clouds in between the pockets of security-placed fog. That would make the fight harder, especially since it would limit the Mandalorian's ability to use their ranged weaponry unless they were careful. So when the cloaking devices began to activate, throwing the Sith into invisible contrast with the smoke, Deram sneered and understood exactly who he had stopped from infiltrating the palace - assassins.

No doubt on the way up to flank the throne room, the tall Alor thought, as he slowed and watched his surroundings as best he could without electronics. Have to repel them here, or the Mand'alor will get a nasty surprise...

The moment of reflection was fleeting, as a subtle shift in smoke movement gave way to a rapidly closing enemy. One that was fast, agile and zig-zagging on the way toward its target. Deram, being said target, gritted his teeth within the confines of his helmet. He was confident in the durable and powerful armor holding up, but also knew that beskar'gam had weaknesses - some unavoidable. That in itself meant the more veteran warrior of the other Mandalorians in the fight was prepared for those inevitable tactics... and when the helmet-wearing assassin attacked, swinging a red lightsaber toward Deram's right side, he moved his large poleaxe to directly block the blade along the middle of the handle, between his hands. There was little danger of his fingers or hands being caught by a blade slide, due to the heavily segmented plating over each digit from within his gauntlets, so the main focus of leverage was to avoid access to his shoulder or elbow joints...

And then the second lightsaber appeared.

The second blade was a bit of a surprise, but dual wielding foes weren't uncommon, which was aimed for his left knee joint, rapidly stabbing in to do serious damage to the less armored limb portion. But that was Attacking Mandalorians 101, and it left Deram unimpressed. The other likely adjustment the Sith could make would be to try and angle the second blade up next, to aim for under Deram's armpit, which the tall warrior was aware of. One didn't spend decades fighting in his own armor not to know the main weaknesses or points to focus on protecting. Instead, Deram crouched and brought his thigh and calf armor together in a tightly packed interlock - it wouldn't protect the joint completely, but it would narrow the target for the Sith mid-attack... and would lessen the injury he took when the blade impacted, causing a sudden sensation of cold to the knee, as nerves failed to react to the blade chewing through less-durable materials.

"Ugh, nice cloaking devices," Deram said with a grunt, as he glanced to the de-ionizer indicator that was nearing quarter-way through the dissipation task. "Who are you?"

Deram activated the telescopic function on his poleaxe, releasing the handle with his left hand, even as the weapon retracted down its own length to become a three-foot axe. Without missing a beat, the Mandalorian both pushed forward shifting balance, and reached down grasping at the Sith's extended arm with his left crushgaunt. He powered forward several steps with his weight to put the helmet-wearing Sith on the back foot, trying to make it hard to disengage cleanly or easily, as he made a grab with the gauntlet. And with the Bral activated throughout the area, the enemy didn't have the Force to help them anticipate or react faster or whatever the hell else they claimed it could do... and if there was solid - crushing - purchase on the Sith's arm, Deram would use his strength to change the blades direction away from his burned knee, to make it useless in the lock, and then brought his helmet down against the Sith's own - hard.

And even if he didn't manage to grab her, Deram followed through with the headbutt, keeping the close proximity and intent of forcing a combat lock.

 

[Valdus Bral]

Post: 5
Enemies: [member="Kor Vexen"] , TSE
Allies: [member="Kaine Australis"] , UCM

https://soundcloud.com/themostepicmusic/audiomachine-guardians-at-the?in=themostepicmusic/sets/audiomachine#t=0:50​

​

The R-36 War Droids, who were loosely grouped on each of the large Sith tanks, fired their Heavy Repeating Laser Cannons and the wrist rockets towards the generator only for them be swalled into the void created by Kor Vexen. Due to the advanced Tactical A.I within each R-36 they realized they needed to disperse into a large line to try and angle in more shots. They rapidly redeployed, moving into a looser formation, and as they did so they began to be peppered with disruptor bolts from the infantry below. The War Droids provided a large target which caused most of the disruptor bolts to hit. With a single hit from a disruptor bolt their deflector shields shattered one by one. An R-36 took a disruptor bolt to the left shoulder, causing the R-36 to do a quarter turn and cease its firing. As it turned back towards the shield generator Vexen could get a clear view of a large smoldering dent within the Phrik plating. Each of these droids were handcrafted with the utmost care by Valdus Bral himself and the sole purpose of heavy combat. They were built to last, they were built Bral Tough ™ . Despite their high physical defenses, the disruptors were very powerful, time would tell how long their armor would last before being bypassed - it looked sooner rather than later.

As the R-36’s atop the tanks continued to launch vollies of anti-vehicle rockets and Heavy Laser Cannon fire, two of the R-36’s that had been blasted out of the air and scattered among the the Sith’s forces raised their weapons. One of these war droids, an R-36 with a golden stripe diagonally down its face plate locked onto the shield generator with it’s targeting systems. The optical sensors flickered, half shattered by the impact of the anti-missile systems and the force of impact once the R-36 hit the ground. As the joint motors ground noisily against their mates as the barrel of its Heavy Laser Cannon leveled. However the stance was improper, the R-36 was prone, and had yet to notice that half of its left arm had been twisted and cracked. The R-36’s head turned to the side to see its mangled chassis before looking back up towards the shield generator. Suddenly disruptor fire began to bore into the back of this R-36, causing the body to jerk, and system failure messages to flood its droid brain. With the last of its ability, the Gold Stripe initiated the firing sequence. The Heavy Repeating Laser Cannon fired off in fully automatic mode as well as launching three anti-vehicle rockets at the rear of the shield projector, opposite of Vexen. The Laser Cannon walked upwards, recoil forcing the damaged and draining arm of the R-36 upwards after each shot. As the last rocket left the cannon, the cannon overheated, but no message was sent. The cannon held in the right arm of Gold Stripe slammed to the ground, the droid ceased functions and knew no more.

Meanwhile on at the forward face of the Eastern front battle, the super heavy Mandalorian war machines fired off their massdrivers, turbolasers, lobbed grenades from their launchers, and fired off sonic cannons. As the lead AT-99 Forge Titan broke through the Ray shield it detonated several of the mines, causing the walker’s right foot to be blown off and the left leg to be bent outwards, falling to its side like a large steel tree freshly felled. As the top of the AT-99 Forge Titan slammed into the ground, it set off another series of landmines, tearing holes into the command structure and killing or maiming all of the crew. The Imperium-class tank never broke stride, it simply rolled over the felled AT-99 with its massive tracks, continuing to fire, and detonate mines whose explosions were absorbed by the heavily armored Super Heavy Tank. The Mandalorian vehicles were out numbered, but not outmatched, and should the shield generator be destroyed the heavy tanks on the flanks would further even the tides of battle and likely tilt this battle in the favor of the Mandalorians, if only temporarily.

Reports began to flood into Valdus’ helmet of breaches in Sundari’s dome in other locations, he had expected this. Though Valdus could not see through the dome, the pure number of opposition that continued to flood into the dome gave away that just the tip of the spear had made it into Sundari and that a much larger force was attached to it. The Alor of clan Bral was under no delusions, a victory here would be historic due to the improbability of their success. Despite the high odds of death and defeat, that would not stop him from fighting like a cornered bear; lashing out at any weakness shown by the enemy general. He decided that he could not wait any longer to attempt to destroy the shield generators, “ Take us in, get me to that generator with the dar’jetti!” The piloted nodded, dipping the transport downwards and into a left-ward spiral passing through the Ray shield with all weapons firing off towards the generator that [member="Kor Vexen"] had been defending.

Spoiler

While the R-36's initial vollies fail to destroy the shield generator due to the sith general's use of the force, they re-evaluate the situation -spreading their firing line thin over a much larger surface in an attempt to angle in more shots onto the generator. Meanwhile, one of the R-36's that had been blasted out of its fall manages to lock onto the generator. Even though its Phrik body has allowed it to survive thus far, the Sith troops' disruptors seek to finish the job. With the last of its ability, the R-36 known to the Bral clan as Gold Stripe, fires off a full volley of Heavy Repeating Laser Cannon bolts and a trio of anti-vehicle wrist-rockets from the opposite flank of the generator that its comrades are assaulting before its body succumbs to the destructive ability of the disruptors. Do Mandalorian War Droids go to Manda?

Spoiler

Personal Soldiers:
2x Mandalorian Warden Squads [Elite Heavy Infantry defenders] (24)
2x R-36 "Rush" War Droid Squads [Super Heavy War Droids] (8)
4x Mandalorian Devastators [Elite Super Heavy Infantry] (4)
1x Beviin Heavy Troop Transport Squadrons (4)
1x Cin'cerar [Elite NPC Beast Companion] (1)

Personal Additional Assets: Within the Beviin Transports
4x Cabur Shield Projectors
20x Palisade Shield Emitters

Mass Assets: See Post for details.
4x War Fort
Imperium-Class
Sovereign-Class
Kyramud-Class
Princeps-Class
T-55 Artillery
AT-99 Forge Titans
T-2 War Droids

Edit: Spelling mistakes and calling Kor Vexen a R-36 War Droid a few times. Should probably review my posts more than once before I submit them.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

Location: Sundari Palace
Objective: Kill [member="Darth Carnifex"]
Allies: Mandalorians [member="Kaine Australis"] [member="Adenn Kyramud"] [member="Darlyn Excron"] [member="Valdus Bral"] [member="Ra Vizsla"] [member="Aedan Miles"] [member="Reyn Australis"]
Enemies: Sith [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Darth Prazutis"] [member="Vaulkhar"]

The Mand’alor must follow the Resol’nare. Even exhausted, wounded, overcome.​

​

The Mand’alor stood tall.​

The Mand’alor was larger than any battle. ​

​

The Mand’alor was beyond such things as fear, or images flashing in the sanctity of the nightly dark. ​

[member="Ambrose Cadera"], written on the inside of Yasha’s childhood visor. ​

Mandalorian Civil War, Sundari City Camp
The ‘Liberator’’s forces took devastating blows in the Battle of MandalMotors, both sides lapping at their wounds like pups after a scuffle. Tuulu Vizsla heaved to his feet, his plate of hard won food left in the safety of the Death Watch troop known as “The Pack”. Members of the Yaliyr, Mand’alor’s elite Hunters, the gurlanins who formed the Pack were collected by [member="Ambrose Cadera"], loyal under the banner of the Undying.

They also drank like dolphins, and if Tuulu wanted his share of tihaar, he’d better fill his bucket. A scuffling sound behind him had the returning warrior glancing up to his meal.

“What the… oy! Vano, the feth!? Put it back I worked hard for my dinner!” Tuulu ground his teeth, but Vano looked up and shrugged.

“Where’d my food go?” More scuffling, the sound of tiny hands and knees tapping at the dirt. “Eh? The h-hey! It stabbed me!”

A hand snaked away under a low space between the log and dirt, a kitchen knife wedged harmlessly in Tuulu’s boot. The Yalilyr roared with laughter. Jeers of ‘hunt it down!’ and ‘kill it’ dying off when Ambrose reached down behind the log and pulled out a shaking, emaciated child clinging to a knapsack with Tuulu’s dinner propped inside. The raven headed girl snapped and kicked, yanking a beskad from her belt and swinging wildly at Ambrose’s arm with another language pouring out of her mouth.

Ambrose’s mate Ka’lo clicked her translator in her buy’ce, laughing quietly as she trotted over. “It’s an Epicanthix girl… look, on her armour weave. That’s Clan Mantis, oh.. oh.” The Hunters grew still. Yes, they knew of this child and her overwhelmed grieving father. The only child who took up armourweave and fought alongside Strider Garon’s Rekr Squad. The child with a kill count of her own, who fell from the sky and cauterized her uncle’s arm before he died rescuing her from freefall. A child who’s own father was so stricken after his pregnant wife’s death that he thought Yasha a hallucination.

“No word on her father, he’s MIA. Poor thing. She’s got nowhere else to go.” Ka’lo reached for the child’s bag, but the girl yanked her legs up to protect it, and attempted to bite and snarl at the merciful act. Tuulu stepped to her, taking her snapping chin in his hand.

“You will not fear me, rekr'ika.” His voice, firm and warm, caused the child to stutter and quake. She licked her lips, and with visor-covered eyes, uncurled from her knapsack to give Tuulu back his dinner. His heart shattered. Tuulu wrested her from Ambrose’s grasp and carried the child back to his seat.

“Get her a plate.” Ambrose growled. In the relative cold of evening, after ensuring the girl ate well, Tuulu and Ka’lo transformed into their lupine forms, to give the Hell Wolf a comfortable and warm place to lay her head. By morning, made aware of the situation surrounding the girl, the Undying called for Yasha. A ward of Mand’alor.

During her childhood and tempestuous adolescence, members of the Pack remained on a perpetual schedule of ‘duty’ around the girl. They remained in lupine form, their fur and animal shapes calming for the girl whose trust in the one-skins was hazy, tentative.

When Yasha found her beloved Ra's body, Ambrose and Tuulu were at her side. When by age 12 her position as Katlaydyr of the Cuir Rekr meant deciphering scientific advancements for Mandalore, Tuulu and [member="Baiko no Kaho"] tutored the girl, aiding her in making decisions which resulted in the terraforming and renewal of Mandalore’s ecosystems after the Second Mandalorian Excision. In each second, Tuulu remained by her side.

When her father deserted Mandalore, leaving her at nearly 13, Tuulu remained. The fateful day of her Verd’goten on Dathomir, Tuulu roared to get to her in time to stop her fingers from touching the Warlock Gate.

Finding the truth of Ra’s death and resurrection was no reason for a teenager to rush into the abyss of the Netherworld. Especially not over the words of Rekali. Mere seconds from rushing Hell itself to get to her, Tuulu skidded on the ground when Yasha reappeared, and due to Rekali’s Aang-Ti trickery, seven years older. Yet, it was Yasha all the same.

She would need him, all of them, in the tempestuous years ahead. Pushing her to the Mantle was, after all, Ambrose’s idea. They knew she was a sacrifice on the altar of Mandalorian progress, a traumatized youth with a life so built by war and horrors that nothing else seemed to phase her. Together, the Pack would guide. Push and solve. Someone needed to lead, and the Mandalorians more than anything needed a terraformer with a love for Botany which many considered ludicrous. Especially when concerning moss.

Not without contest, Tuulu took his position as her constant companion and bodyguard as a religious station once Adara was born, and the Infernal became a widow at twenty years old. And when the affairs of state grew too numerous for her recovering eyes, Tuulu raised her back up, set her back on the throne, and pushed her.

He fought bitterly with Australis, the mongrel General who stole Yasha by centimeters, at first only a confidante and glorified babysitter for Yasha’s infant. The morning after the Golden Festival, Tuulu nearly bit Kaine Australis in half with his fanged maw. How dare he touch her? How dare he aspire to abandon Yasha’s grief and give her.. what, the burden of a family? All Manda’yaim was Yasha’s family, the Infernal belonged to the Mando’ade, not one Clan Alor with delusions of relevancy in the tumult left by his idiotic wake.

And when Yasha’s belly swelled, Tuulu promised to end the child himself if it ever harmed its’ mother…

After Kaas City, Plains of Mandalore
“You dishonour those who die for you, by not finishing the enemy yourself.” Regardless of Yasha’s state, Ambrose drove her.

He drove her, because she loved him. He drove her because he loved the weakling thing, stuck in one form with no telepathic connection to the others. He drove her because she caused Ka’lo’s death. Yasha shook to her hands and knees. None of the others helped. This was training. Her battles against the Dark Lord scarred body and spirit, but the next time they met in war, Ambrose would not have Yasha destroyed.

"Again!"

Tuulu broke from the Pack, to slip behind Yasha, and scoop her up. He held Yasha as if she were the only sacred vessel left in a universe of dead gods. Laid her down on tall grass, disconnecting the plates of her armour so the injured young widow could breathe. He transformed back to his lupine form to give Yasha a soft place to lay her head.

Present Day, Sundari Palace Throne Room
“Y-you will nev.. never have her, aruetii besom.” The blade struck.

Civility shattered. ​

The echoing bellow which stole Yasha’s throat was as inhuman as the death-shakes rattling Tuulu’s true gurlanin form. Agony uncontainable and raucous cried out from the belly of Manda’yaim and Mand’alor alike. Rasping breaths from her wounded side seemed as far away as Tuulu’s open eyelids, gazing into Manda with an act of salvation for that same bastard son he despised.

“Aaaahhhh!” Once more, he who saw the core of her under Kaas City would battle the Infernal created by Gurlanin that compensated for a child’s wounds. Darth Carnifex would get all of her, without limit or restraint. Her husband’s presence by her side was ill comfort with her beloved companion seized on the ground. As Reyn swore, the sound entered her ears and resounded around them. Her son had words his mother remained incapable of shouting.

Darth Carnifex was a worshipper of chaos. No mercy nor quarter would come. As she raised her spear, Yasha charged. The dovin basal in the spear triggered an intense gravitic field in a one metre radius from the spearhead, increasing the force of gravity ten fold as it thrust at Carnifex’s armourweave clad torso. Whether the spear took the black ichor of his blood from him or not was irrelevant to the stricken Epicanthix.

She meant to crush his armour around him, snap bones genetically manipulated to be tougher than their collective sins. The kind and doting man of her childhood shifted for the tyrant butcher King.

Yes, Kaine Zambrano called and the Hell Wolf rushed to meet him. He let her go, but whispered and she came. The man who last cradled her to him in a forest picking flowers to sate the sting of Yasha’s Orindan injuries, who crossed the Galaxy to bring her healing, was the man who destroyed her path to the comfort of home. Hatred and love were equal deities in the same coupling, both bound by passion's law to destroy and create in equal measure.

There would be no home without his shadow, no warmth without. Now with Tuulu’s blood spattered on his form, Yasha realized the dire and overwhelming truth of the Dark Lord.

There could be nothing left in the end, but them. ​

 

[Darth Morgoth]

Location: New Keldabe
Objective: Destroy Everything
Allies: TSE , Sith Musehttp://starwarsrp.net/user/20944-sith-muse/http://starwarsrp.net/user/20944-sith-muse/ , Oriaxes
Enemies: Mandalorians


"FIRE"
Came the roar of the Sith Lord to his ground forces.
With his rampage unchecked and his machines ripping through pieces of city walls Morgoth wondered had become of the proud battle hardened Mandolorians. Sure a few came scurrying out to try to stop him but they weren't even capable of making him break his concentration as he tore down building after building with the Force. For him this was not a battle but a slaughter. His compatriots in the air seemed to get more resistance then he was and as a result reinforcement was not something he was banking on. Not that he needed it. "Boom!" The ordered shot collided with a structure that looked important and of historical value. "Boom!" another shot rang through this time landing in the residential district not to far away. "Maybe one day one of them will grow up and reclaim this city as i reclaimed my world" The thought brought him a moment of pause as he thought of his own people and how similar the sounds of death were. "The true universal language.. one that fits well in my mouth" he said as he watched a small chunk of rubble topple down atop a Mandolorian boy naught 13 years of age. "It wont be him"

A sizzle whipped through his unarmored arm taking a gash out of it as he continued forward with a slight wince as he scanned the area for the sniper. His eyes locked onto a small shack where he saw a familiar glow. It was a Mjonir, one of the bows he himself had produced, the plasma arcs preparing for another shot. His own saber ignited he deflected the shot easily, "Skts!" the sound of the plasma hitting the shield of the Vulcan Mobile Fortress behind him. "Ironic, the mark of my success is that of my scars, sounds like something my father would say" He muttered as reached forward through the force and grabbed the enemy "soldier" watching as the brown haired, man flew towards him a look of horror on his face as he found himself impaled on the black over sized blade.
"Onward"

 

[Aedan Miles]

Location: Sundari
Allies: UCM
Enemies: TSE
Engaging [member="Kezeroth the Hateful"]
Equipment: Scythe, Ring, and Armor

Aedan smiles sadly as he walks forward looking at his friend he took off his helmet and handed his weapon to the titan. "Yes I have been used as a pawn but you should always know that I have my own pieces to move as well in the shadows. IT is time I returned to the shadows though old friend. Do me a favor Yasha Cadera is needed in the future give her this tell her to return it to my family and that I am dead." Aedan looked at Kezeroth a sad smile on his face as he suddenly reversed the effects of the force lifting the titan up his body straining visible as he heaved towards the doors of the palace calling out calmly. "Break your own chains old friend you know where to find me when you want to. The Shadows are always open to you." Aedan watched manipulating more of the force as he propelled Kezeroth up and hopefully through the palace doors finally he stopped and turned to the left nodding as he moved to stand over a designated place crouching down as explosives were detonated around him creating a massive could of dust sprang up. Within it Aedan moved silently and swiftly before finally as the dust fell there was only the battered remains of what was his Beskar'gam covering a body that's DNA would match Aedan's perfectly. For all who searched they would believe that the Pirate King had died on this day never to be seen again.

 

[Charlyra Araano]

​

Allies: [member="Kaalia Pavanos"] | [member="Vaulkhar"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Darth Carnifex] | [member="Kezeroth the Hateful"] | @Sith Empire
Opponents: [member="Kaine Australis"] | [member="Valdus Bral"] | @Mandalorians
Objective: Kill. Destroy the Brals.

Admittedly the ysalamari were an annoyance, that did have an effect on Charlyra's focus. Once they were cleared out, the job got a lot easier - the Battle Sister refocused her energies on Force Destruction. Pulling on the Force as a loom pulls on the thread, better - Darth Avacyn brought durasteel with her after each drone had been dismantled. This would be used against the Mandalorians. The idea now would be to direct these and the raw energy from this power at the Bral itself and on [member="Kaalia Pavanos"]' order Charlyra let loose a torrent of destructive energy as the shrapnel from the durasteel balls that had been collected moved toward its intended target.

Down on one knee, Charlyra took a moment to gather herself. The dust had yet to settle when Avacyn gave the word - they would be headed to the palace to aid the Emperor. Undoubtedly much of the Sith Empire's forces would be headed that way. The Sith Acolyte got to her feet and followed her master to the Palace and as they drew nearer she could feel the blasted Bral effects again. It was fortunate that Avacyn had a neural disabler on her armor, something the Empire would no doubt want to mass-produce after the battle. Bral or no Bral, it did not mitigate Charlyra's abilities to fight, lightsaber drawn she would deflect what blaster bolts she could.

A hurried pace as she found herself back to back with her Master.

When the Ysalamiri were down, and the Force returned - Charlyra smirked.

Using telekinesis, she threw debris at the Mandalorians who dared approach her. "We must move on to the next one." She gestured toward another Bral, lightsaber brandished the Battle Sister would move with her master to disable another. Knowing full well that as soon as the Emperor felt the power of the Force he would wield it against his enemies. The Valkyrie's job now was at hand, as the Battle Sister followed her Matriarch around the palace.

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Location: Concord Dawn, ArmaTech City
Objective: Conquer or destroy.
TSE: [member="Sith Muse"] [member="Darth Rage"] [member="Ravik Munin"] [member="Anden Fancelo"] [member="Hakai Shizukana"]
UCM: [member=”Taozi Fuyuan”] [member="Marina DeVoe"] [member="Mig Gred"] [member="Quintus Cadera"]
Engaging: [member="Darlyn Excron"]

She was faced with a wall of Mandalorian defenders, but in her eyes they were little more than propped up meat waiting for her to dive in and cut them down. She did not flinch nor halt as shots bounced off her armour. Blaster bolts and slugs flattened against the phrik plates as she charged the line. Crownguard blasterfire rained down over her head as she and her melee crownguard rushed in with their lightpikes, closing for the carnage.

Joycelyn stabbed her pike forward, the blade skipping off beskar plate only to burrow into the shoulder gap of her target. She pulled the blade to the side, digging through the inside of the armour and pushing the body down to the ground before then bringing the opposite end of her weapon around like a club for the next body around. One of her crownguard had planted their lightpike in a body and favoured a power mace, bashing armour into flesh.

“Push, to the centre!”

With a meticulous motion of her hand, she summoned the Force to seize a number of her opponents by the throat and crush. They kicked and choked as their throats collapsed, and Joycelyn pushed forward toward the darksider in the centre.

The bodies fell to the ground as she put her hand in the direction of the darksider’s ritual. The flames that licked the edges of her armour burst to life and coalesced in her hand like a tiny sun.

That tiny orb of flame then burst into a torrent of golden fire that lashed out against the defenders.

Graug legions tore through ArmaTech city, while wasps buzzed through the sky to pick civilians out of their homes. Steadily, Sith-Imperial legionnaires and their machines of war pressed into the city perimeters to claim the chaos and hold the ground the graug and sithspawn had torn through. It made their jobs far easier, rounding up and holding the surrendered citizens of Concord Dawn.

Meanwhile, the artillery maintained their fire at the sky and city perimeters, locking the city down as well as they could while the Legion did their part.

Joycelyn shouted at the dark jedi while the fire cooked men in their plate

“Seize and desist!”

 

[Ra Vizsla]

Allies: [member="Darth Kentarch"], Mandalorians
Enemies: [member="Scherezade deWinter"], [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"], [member="Alkor Centaris"]


Men and women screamed. A mother held her lifeless son in the streets of Mand'oa. Birds of burden tore through once peaceful neighborhoods. The city burned. The scorching hot light of Mandalore's sun tore through the many holes in the dome. Ra's particular section was darkening by the second, though. The dark mists of his Basilisk were falling upon the rubble, as the former Mand'alore parried a quick blow from the Sith'ari before taking three shots to the chest.

He lost his footing for a second.

Overconfidence. Ra was better than this. He hadn't spotted the gun prior.

Ra was much better.

Silent, stoic in response, he turned into the woman and attempted to send a gauntleted fist into her stomach while his spear's handle retracted into a glaive, shortening to better angle itself into her chin.

​

​

Ne'tra glided overhead, her engines roaring before landing onto a small alcove of a small residential building,​

​

the durasteel began to bend and break under the massive weight of the beast.​

​

​

It roared again, yet this time wasn't beastial.​

​

​

​

This time, the screamers began emanating a familiar sound.​

​

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​

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The cries of a thousand men and women on Roche, before they were forced out of an airlock by the Galactic Republic.​

​

​

​

​

The glowing orbs that housed the Ysalamiri​

​

within the basilisk began to glow.​

​

​

[member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] [member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="Darth Kentarch"]​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xJjoPiNEtGo​

It had the desired effect.

She came at him, that poor child. One who had been sacrificed upon the altar of other's ambitions, Ra's, his own, that of her people. She had never known a true life, never grasped the opportunity that childhood and familial love afforded until she was well beyond her innocent years. If the Emperor had any tears left to give, he might have wept for her once. But that time had long since passed, generosity and affection had now given way to contempt and hatred.

Things that the Emperor fed off on in spades.

"Yes, come child. Back to where you belong."

She stabbed at him with that accursed spear, the gravity around its sharpened edge distorting as the doval basin within was thrown into overdrive. It tore through the armorweave bodysuit protecting his midsection, passing through without much resistance until it erupted out of his back. He couldn't feel the gravitational pull on his body, but he was aware of it. Blood oozed out from the wound, drawn towards the end of Yasha's spear as if magnetized. Pain no longer held any sway over the Sith Emperor, both of them were cognizant of that reality. Left hand snapped out like a viper's bite, clutching Yasha's armor by the breastplate and pulling her as close to him as was physical possible.

Time slowed, adrenaline pumping. Baleful eyes stared into the wolf's helm of the Infernal. It was in that brief moment, that shallow increment of distorted time, that the Emperor whispered something to Yasha in their conjoined native tongue.

"Ezili'duemb vess xi oslebud, pi'sazi. Tlyrd pi ami pali depi."

​

The blade of Carnifex's glaive moved in, catching a gap between beskar plating to bite deep into Yasha's midsection. The Emperor did not stop, he dug the blade in deep and twisted.

It was at that moment that the rounds fired by the former Warmaster slammed into Carnifex, one round detonating against his shoulder while the other smacked into his breastplate. By Yasha's mere proximity to the Sith Emperor, the splash damage from each round fired cascaded over her as well, so tight was the Emperor's grip on her armor and with her weapon firmly impaled through his guts. The next four rounds hit the both of them, throwing them back from the sheer impact force until both of them collapsed into a pile on the ground.

[member="Yasha Cadera"] | [member="Kaine Australis"]​

 

[Vaulkhar]

Location: Royal Palace - Eastern Grounds
Allies: The Sith Empire; [member="Sith Muse"]
Enemies: United Clans of Mandalore
Opposing Forces: [member="Kaine Australis"] | [member="Adenn Kyramud"]
Objective: Storm the Palace Grounds.
Posts: 15

Explosions racked the palace as the combined offensive and defensive strike assailed the palace grounds. Both Mandalorian warriors and Blackblade soldiers were tossed skyward as powerful blasts of energy sent them all in dozens of different directions. The soldiers of both sides had plenty in common. A love for combat, unparalleled martial training, but mostly the will to fight and die under the banner of their people. It was truly a glorious sight to behold. Thousands of armed warriors colliding against one another in bloody waves, fighting with reckless abandon. Lines dissolved and orders were mostly forsaken as the euphoric chaos of battle settled on the palace grounds. Blood stained the ground below, creating a slick surface that only got worse with each passing second.

The Blackblade Guard had but one objective and it was the Throne Room. Each step gained was one step closer to victory. Each of the darkly garbed soldiers knew what was on the line in this battle. Many had made peace and understood they'd not be returning home. Instead, they worked methodically as they waded into the kill zone. With one death, another strode forth to take the lasts place in the impromptu offensive. As the imperial offensive pushed deeper into the palace grounds, the Mandalorian assault battalions on the ground level were quickly split off from one another and absorbed into the sea of black armored soldiers. With the majority of the lower defenses destroyed in the corvette's suicide run, the Blackblades sought to put the remainder of the defensive to death before moving on. However, the brave but damned Mandalorian clansmen thought differently.

These men and women knew there would be no home left to return to if they fell. They knew they likely were not returning home even if they won the day, so they fought on. In those few, short moments of battle, the Mandalorian's had become unstoppable. Each clansmen had become worth three of the Blackblade Guard as they fought on with renewed vigor. Back to back, half a dozen small pockets of the defenders pushed themselves far beyond the limit of possibility. Exhaustion did not slow them, death did not scare them. For every one dead Mandalorian, there were four dead Imperials left in their wake. Eventually, the candle was snuffed and the majority of defenders fell to the wave of unstoppable Blackblade Guard. A single grouping of the defenders managed to fight their way through the tide of death to come out the other side exhausted but alive. Blood and gore caked their armor and weapons. Their shoulders sagged as exhaustion gripped them, but they had lived and there were more Imperials to kill.

Joy rolled off of these warriors in waves. In their defense they had proven they could fight on and succeed. The seed of hope had been planted and nurtured in savagery and death.

And just as quickly as that hope was born, it was dashed away. Another grouping of transport ships lowered themselves and allowed a fresh wave of Blackblade soldiers to march forth towards the palace. The momentary happiness vanished as death marched closer. Steeling themselves, the remaining defenders of the palace ground's lower levels were washed away in a sea of black and red.

Another transport of fresh imperial soldiers were already coursing through the city towards the palace, while the remainder of the Blackblade Guard waited patiently. Death would be plentiful this day. Blood would wash away the sins of the Mandalorian defenders and the Imperial attackers alike. Sundari would be put to the blade and its people broken via the Imperial war machine.

The Blackblade Guard moved deeper into the Palace, ready to fight and die for their Emperor.

Forward Unit - Blackblade Custodia Division

Spoiler

Storm the Palace - Eastern Front
Commander: Vaulkhar Zambrano

Actions Taken: The Blackblade Guard move further into the Palace after a brief but bloody battle with the remainder of the palace's lower assault battalions. Another wave of soldiers have been delivered, while another is in transit.

Custodia Division: ~ 21,500 remaining

Unit 1: ~ 1,500 - Contesting the Palace Grounds
Unit 2: ~ 5,000 - Contesting the Palace Grounds
Unit 3: ~ 5,000 - In Transit
Unit 4: ~ 5,000 - Awaiting Transport
Unit 5: ~ 5,000 - Awaiting Transport

 

[Darth Assimilus]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QWzyw8O8lyk​

​

​

Location: Sundari Palace > Thrown with the force.
Objective:
Allies: [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Vaulkhar"]
Enemies: [member="Aedan Miles"]

Then...​

What was this? Sideways stares examined Aedans expressions. Unsure what was going on to a degree Kezeroth gave ear to his words.

"Yes I have been used as a pawn but you should always know that I have my own pieces to move as well in the shadows. IT is time I returned to the shadows though old friend. Do me a favor Yasha Cadera is needed in the future give her this tell her to return it to my family and that I am dead." Aedan looked at Kezeroth a sad smile on his face as he suddenly reversed the effects of the force lifting the titan up his body straining visible as he heaved towards the doors of the palace calling out calmly. "Break your own chains old friend you know where to find me when you want to. The Shadows are always open to you." Aedan watched manipulating more of the force as he propelled Kezeroth up and hopefully through the palace doors

Dead? What had he lost the will to live! Kezeroths mind boggled at the situation. Fighting always fighting that was the life he knew and here was a man who was giving up. " So be it!" he uttered ready to murder his friend. The cold sting of the darkside began to slowly surface more and more. A lethal energy that burned behind the inner perception of the eye. It screamed to be released but found none yet. Forced to wait after tension was removed off the shoulders of the giant and shifted to around his body. The Gen'dai was slightly caught off guard with the overall situation. If it were not for the Mandalorians word he would of broken free. The invisible hand that was the force gripped him. Head jerking back in a whipping motion Kezeroth roared as the force propelled him across the expanse of an area. Sithsword released from his hands and dragging by chain after him. His rage subsided and the surges of weakness over took his mind. A fog came over him mentally slowing his reaction time, the actions he took next were merely in vain. Attempting to activate his jetpack to resist the force Kezeroth had instead only assisted. The pirate kings grip was still apon him. Looking back the Gen'dai took in the scene of his opponent manipulating him. Vibrations in the foul debris filled air erupted into a mist of spray as a large tremor danced along the palace were Aedan once was standing.

The passing moments were a blurr of vibrant hues and distorted sounds due to the mental exhaustion that had stricken him. *CRASH*

​

Two minutes later.... Now​

​

Location: The Throne room
Tags: [member="Kaine Australis"] [member="Yasha Cadera"] [member="Reyn Australis"] [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Vaulkhar"]
Engaging: [member="Darth Carnifex"]
Equipment: In sig.
Objective: Red.

Dust, metal shards, debris, littered the initial area where the Gen'dai layed sprawled on the floor. " Gaaaaaaahh!" grunts and groans became his voice as the large figure rose picked up his head and quickly took in the condition of his armor. Dented in, smashed, scuffed and shattered in some areas. The ultrachrome plating was damaged and cracked from the sheer force of impact and the crushing grip from Aedans mental grasp. Half of the gen'dais helmet was gone exposing his short black hair, crimson eyes while the rest of his features were covered by torn metal. Heaving his Sithsword by the chain that linked it to his arm, Tendril like muscles wrapped around its hilt with a coil. Immediately the fog that was ripe within the minds eye faded and was replaced with rage. Immediately he blitzed into motion disregarding his own safety and those around him. Half-swording his large sith blade and leaping into the air Kezeroth screamed looking down at Yasha. " You die today Yasha!" but then shifted his weight glaring down at the Emperor himself in an instant. Blade poised down to impale the Dark lord of the Siths right hip, Kezeroth made sure to thrust all of his weight behind his attack to get through that karking armor.

​

​

He enhanced voice boomed throughout the room. Caught in a frenzy. From the start this had never been about the Mandalorians for the Gen'dai. This was about something and someone else. ​

 

[Samka Derith]

Location: Sundari​

Allies: The Sith Empire | [member="Funami Teriyaki"]​

​

Funami's composure was breaking. The girl was visibly shaking and breathing heavily. It worried Samka. Not for the girl's sake but if she was less sane than she'd first seemed, Sam may have made a mistake in approaching her. She'd remember this, remember her, and who knew what grudges Funami was capable of? Sam could probably deal with the child should she act up but it would be a spot of bother. The Sith really were full of lunatics after all. Just because they'd managed to form an Imperial structure which kept their more unstable elements in line and obeying authority didn't lessen the crazy within their ranks. The numbers of Sith and Jedi slain by Sam had to similar to one another.

However, Samka chose not to draw attention to it. Instead she thought about Atrisa, Funami's alleged homeworld. Curious. Perhaps she would remember First Order rule there? It was deeply decentralised and maybe a girl of her age would barely have been aware of it but it would be interesting to hear. But Funami's next action got her attention. Puppy dog eyes pleaded with the Knight of Ren to keep her secrets. Whether they were crocodile tears or not, Sam didn't care. She'd already made her decision the moment she'd laid eyes on the child.

"Of course I wouldn't tell a soul." She threw Funami her most pleasant smile, one full of charm that emitted trust. She paused before continuing, setting both hands on the girl's shoulders and offering a reassuring squeeze. "Shall we go? I think you've seen plenty for one day. I live in that direction, I can arrange something and drop you off."

Funami no longer seemed to be in condition for a warzone. Physically the girl was fine but mentally it was a different story. She was no longer safe. Samka tutted to herself as she took a glance around her. Mandalore was burning. The scourge of the Mandalorian clans could be eradicated tonight. How long had she waited for this moment? Yet somehow she was choosing to babysit instead. Maybe more recent events truly had turned her soft...?

 

[Jor Kvall]

SUNDARI
Equipment: See bio
Allies: [member="Ra Vizsla"] [member="Darth Kentarch"]
Enemies: [member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] [member="Alkor Centaris"]

Mandalorian sun, red with blood and sorrow​

poured through the cracked firmament.​

Sundari would fall today.​

Let it fall.​

​

Jor's weapons unveiled,​

he would stride forth to kill a man.​

Kad Ha'rangir spoke to him,​

giving him the spirit of the mythosaur,​

guiding him across the crumbling metropolis​

towards fate, where a thousand blades danced together.​

​

He knew that armor.​

That unmistakable golden shine, like heaven's jewel,​

the hulking frame to which it belonged.​

His Mand'alor, when Jor was young and foolhardy.​

But Mand'alor had long been flame-farewelled.​

Who was this impostor?​

​

He had fought near Ra Vizsla years ago​

watched him carry off the lifeless Mia Monroe.​

The impostor and his memories moved in unison.​

They were one and the same, these men.​

Another ode to their strange and harrowing times,​

when Mandalore burned and dead men walked again.​

​

He would help Vizsla in his combat,​

if not merely to confront him later.​

Jor took his Ripper pistol, that old companion​

whose slugs felt neither compassion nor mercy,​

and aimed them at Ra's adversary,​

the lady of a thousand blades.​

​

He fired, from atop a crumbled roof,​

announcing his hand in the death game.​

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

The beasts clashed with a loud clang, throwing Gil off balance for a moment. Vilaz. The traitorous son of Mandalore returned to burn it to the ground. Gil cursed under his breath. The droid cried out in a simulated mix of shock and annoyance, its grip becoming loose, allowing the Sith to be dropped. No skin off his back, they were so far up in the air that he'd be surprised if the man made it unscathed.

He didn't rise to Vilaz's goading. Instead he simply turned his attention to the Mandalorian, a rage boiling within his old blood. There were few Mandalorians that he'd killed that didn't deserve it for some reason or another and Vilaz was no different. As far as he was concerned Vilaz had cast his honor away for credits and personal power one too many times.

Gil had watched Vilaz rise through the ranks of the Mandalorians and throughout that time he knew that beast riding had not been a skill he'd thought Vilaz prided himself on enough to take on Gil one on one. His beast roared, energy coalescing at the tips of its long shockwave generator rods. The strange sonic-plasma erupted from the bundle of guns into Vilaz's machine.

[member="Vilaz Munin"]

 

[Yasha Cadera]

Arms which held her in safety and in war wrapped around the feral woman, as the Longinus spear carved through vital organs in the Dark Lord. He spoke to her, their native tongue the originator of contact, when Yasha was a child of 12 trying to be exactly what [member="Ra Vizsla"] wanted. To be the Ward he needed. Glorified spear carrier, an open eyed and listening eared child working daily to deny the stutter which peppered out of her lips, when speaking Mando’a.

She’d felt such pride, her hair up in a crown braid Baiko made tight enough to fit under the helmet at her side. Armour… Beskar’gam of her own. She’d sit at Ra’s side during the diplomatic delegation, silent and learning the trade which eventually, some incalculable decades later, she might assume.

But [member="Darth Carnifex"] was God-King of Panatha, and her mother Aditya was born and raised in Panatha’s holy city of Qocia. He spoke like she did. The language at home, Epicant. Maybe if Yasha said hello to the Sith Emperor without stuttering in her native tongue, Ra would be impressed. He’d see it wasn’t her stupidity which bound her tongue, it was the foreign nature of Mando’a.

Diminutive shoulders couldn’t get prouder as the Dark Lord patted her hair, spoke well of their mother tongue. She’d sat beside Ra, then, and realized as long as the Undying was guiding her, the abandoned and orphaned girl loved her new life.

[member="Kaine Australis"] and Cadera swooped at the Dark Lord, their son out of harm’s way. The pain of losing Ra returned as the wound in her side threatened to buckle her there in the throne room, where he should have sat much longer than he did. Rasping breaths shuddered her shoulders, audible even without the buy’ce for Kaine. His wife was already in a bad way.

One last roar for the Hell Wolf, as her spear drove into Kaine Zambrano. Snarling snapping jaws as he lunged for her, grabbed her to him. Both protected and allowed the explosive shots of Yasha’s husband to shower them both.

Each clang of the fired shots tore at more than Yasha’s cochlea and tympanic membrane. They struck at her armour. Her husband’s shots ripping beskar slag from the Infernal’s signature Beskar’kandar and rending the flesh beneath. The inhuman wail barked out, a hymn to agony at her husband’s betrayal. Arms clung round Carnifex’s she let go of the spear which ran him through. Her fist punched into his chest, katar springing out to slice between his ribs in a dash for his heart.

“K-kaine-“ Crushgaunt gripped shoulders better held by wives on Bastion, than in battle on Manda’yaim. Through the fissures in Yasha’s now defunct helm, the diffused Sundari light began to paint her vision in swathes of pure, white light.

A growl spewed out, no fear in the pretty face beneath gold and black beskar. Yasha kept no fear within her, not for those unknowable essences of sapient kind seen so often through the eyes of a child.

A lost daughter abandoned by death and betrayal and illness, who clawed to an aged gurlanin’s throne for the only reason that mattered.

“Ra…” Had she made him proud, for one moment in time? Had the Undying looked upon the child who mystified him with her carnage and killing trophies, and for even one single moment, would he tell her, ‘Well done’?

Yasha’s lungs choked on disrepair and swelling fluids, lips better taken to pillow talk with her beloved wife [member="Caz Australis"], or sneering at Kain’ik after another night at the pub, contorting in gap-mouthed attempts at magicking oxygen from spent blood.

Shock stole the pain Yasha would have felt, those last moments. Nerve endings cessated by the blade she gave her fellow descendant-Panathan the day they rode together into battle to save their undeserving ancestral home.

A body crashed to the ground, unawares of anything but the last embrace of the man, who as father-figure, fellow ruler, confidant, enemy and friend, held her intimately close. Whispered in their mother tongue, words she never heard from Aditya or Preliat at all.

​

“Everything will be alright…” ​

​

For the last time in the waning life of the Hell Child…​

​

…Yasha believed him. ​

Vevut swooped as Kezeroth distracted from the mangled body crumpled on the ground. Ears ringing from the last words her mind clung to, Yasha’s open eyed gaze fell on the frame of her husband… but he did not come to her.

There was to be no comfort for the wolf dying beside Tuulu on the floor. Six shots echoed in her mind as her lifeblood leaked through beskar’kandar.

“Everything will be alright.” Carnifex whispered. Trust… trust in the Dark consuming her periphery, stealing her vision by inches. Her chest rattled. Bors picked her up, the rush of extracting her lost to the broken and limp body in his hands.

“[member="Kaden Farr"]? I’m late, but I made it…” Darkness gave way to sand dunes, the heat of a familiar place near the Oasis in the Netherworld. Home.

Jolting pain launched her back into the sheer agony in her body, as Doc Allard and the medics pulled her heart back from its’ stillness.

“If we don’t get her going, the Palace will be gone and us with it! Fekk you, Yasha! Fekk you don’t stop now.” Allard triggered the paddles, Yasha’s ruined body bucking until a gasping breath was taken. Amber eyes focussed on the only thing that mattered beyond life, death or Manda.

“R-ram’ika… Ra-…”

The tumult around her body faded once more, as a warm wind washed her face of the blood spattered upon it. Bare feet dipped into welcome sand, as a chorus of many voices welcomed Yasha home.

“FETH! Allard to Mando’ade, Allard to Mando’ade, evacuate the Palace! Evacuate! EVACUATE!”

“Time of death…”

"Punch the engines!!"

Boom. ​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YLXyvVCS6NU​

There was a commotion around him.

Dull in his ears, numb as he clutched a piece of nearby broken stone to haul himself up to his feet. They were taking Yasha away now, dragging and carrying her to safety. It mattered not, he knew that the wounds he had inflicted were mortal.

It was just a matter of time now.

As Yasha's body retreated, her voidstone's power began to recede from around him and the area now unaffected by the bral. The Force came flooding back to the Sith Emperor, and he at last could feel the necrotic kiss of the Dark Side upon his malevolent soul. It was rejuvenating, like a draught of cool water to parched lips, a healing balm to irritated flesh. Though bleeding and broken, the Emperor stood up to his full height as his flesh began to mend at a much quicker rate than it would have without the aid of the Dark Side.

He was distinctly aware of the other Sith in the room, bounding towards him as if in a frenzy. Danger roiled through his mind, rattled as it was within his mending skull. He outstretched his left hand towards Kezeroth the Hateful and uttered one simple phrase.

"You shall not touch me."

Kezeroth's blade sung out towards the Emperor, but was stopped in its tracks about thirty centimeters from the Emperor's body. Red electricity coiled out from the gauntlet imbued into his left arm, seizing both the blade and it's treasonous wielder and expelling them away from the Emperor with unimaginably tremendous force. The Emperor then looked towards Australis and uttered the same sentence, the Dark Side seething out from his body to stain the air with the putrid stench of ozone and death.

But that was the least of all their troubles, for even as the Emperor made his dire proclamations...

Yasha perished.

Premonitions warred within his mind, the Force crying out its revelations. The Emperor forgot all about Kezeroth and Australis, he dismissed them entirely from his concerns as he called forth the Dark Side of the Force and wound it about himself like a tight fabric, covering himself utterly in its protective embrace.

Then the bombs which had been placed beneath the Palace detonated.

And everything went stark white.

[member="Yasha Cadera"] | [member="Kezeroth the Hateful"] | [member="Kaine Australis"]​

 

[Darlyn Excron]

• Objective: Bare your Soul
• Location: Concord Dawn
• Allies: UCM+friends
• Enemies: TSE+friends, Joycelyn specifically
• Tags: [member="Marina DeVoe"] :|: [member="Mig Gred"] :|: [member="Quintus Cadera"] :|: [member="Taozi Fuyuan"]
• Engaging: [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]
• Relevant Equipment: Lightsabers and Family blaster (in bio), 2 Thermal Detonators

The Dark was strong, very strong, within the heart of Darlyn at that moment. He had yet to be consumed like the Sith, but that was not by any lack of hatred in his soul. The vile, black emotions that tore and ate away at one's very being were simply tools to be shaped, fashioned into a suitable form. Every living being, even Jedi, felt anger and hate often to no less an extreme than this. The difference was Darlyn had a special attunement to it, the ability to fashion the purest form of hate he could imagine, and send it from his body in the form of lightning. He'd always had that affinity for lightning, an echo of his childhood...

And now he stood at the precipice of something darker still.

His Gred defenders dying, Darlyn finally opened his eyes behind his helmet, staring at the woman who shouted at him to cease and desist what he was doing. The flames were mostly absorbed by a soldier who stood between them, leaving him unscathed for the most part save his heated body, and probably singed hairs on his body underneath the plates. He simply grinned, something you could hear in his voice even as one couldn't see his expression. "Alright, I'll do just that!" He would bare for her his soul then, finally having gathered the strength to survive what he needed done.

He was half-Anam, a species who felt the natural call of fire. Theirs were souls of gentle, righteous flames guiding and filling one with warmth and life. He lifted his hands, slowly, calling all that darkness to his will, envisioning the form it would take. He was only half-Anam though, his was not a gentle being, he did not find it within him to forgive. His was a different soul, darker, more violent, and only within years holding much of what one would call a morality. If Anam were a gentle flame, then his soul was grand, tumultuous thunder.

From his will, the Darkness came forth, and finally would his plan become clear and evident to all present. Darlyn had been summoning the power from the death and chaos around him, filtering it into his own hatred, and brought forth a mighty Storm. Friend, Foe, Building, Speeder, all would become fair game to the destruction he had willed into creation. The power rushed through his body, coming into the newfound maelstrom of death summoned so close to he himself, and he let out a blissful laugh.

"Oh what a rush!" He all but fell onto his hands, already feeling so much of his power drained in the mere creation of the soon to grow Storm. "I see why you guys want to do that so bad!"

 

[Vaulkhar]

​

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5cTyUUO7D3E[/media]​

​

Location: Royal Palace - Eastern Grounds
Allies: The Sith Empire; [member="Constantinius Zambrano"]
Enemies: United Clans of Mandalore
Objective: Escape and survive.
Posts: 16

Vaulkhar moved towards the latest round of dropships as they arrived to drop off a fresh round of troops. While the Blackblade Guard continued their rampage through the palace, he deemed his presence no longer necessary. His battle with the Mandalorian General had left him with a non functioning arm, a series of cuts and bruises as well as a set of broken ribs. As far as the Sith Lord was concerned, he managed to do his fair share in the tumultuous battle that still raged around him. Having stolen the Commander's attention away from the overall battle before commanding the assault on the Palace itself, a break was well earned. He lowered himself to a seated position on the transport ship and began to meditate.

Within seconds the force had returned to him. Much like a blanket, he wrapped himself in its warm, comforting embrace. And just as quickly as it returned to him, his body burst into action as warnings assailed him on all sides. As a series of deafening explosions echoed from beneath the palace several kilometers back, Vaulkhar hardened the force around him in a protective barrier. His eyes burned the color of molten metal as he roared in defiance in the face of death. Even as the pilot lost control of the ship and perished at the helm, Vaulkhar focused his rage. Visions of his father caught at the epicenter of the blast spurred him forward, renewing him in waves of unending energy. The man who had only just shown pride and love for the halfbreed after all these years surely could not survive such an explosion.

Those precious seconds of warning coupled with searing, unending rage saved the Sith Lords life. Any with even the faintest of connections to the force would both feel and hear Vaulkhar's pain as he rocketed across the sky and crashed into the protective dome surrounding Sundari. Breaking through the dome itself, the Ship flew for hundreds of meters before crashing into the sands outside of the city. Everyone within the dropship were broken, battered and lifeless. All but Vaulkhar.

The bastard son of the Butcher King gripped a handful of shattered metal and sand with his barely functioning arm and pulled. He pulled with every fiber of his being to escape the ruined dropship. A will to survive, empowered by a feeling of loss and despair pushed him far beyond his limits. Vaulkhar crawled from the heap of scrap that kept him safe in the explosion and rolled onto his back. His flesh was red from burns and he could not quite focus his gaze as he stared blankly at the sky. His hand shakily rose up as he activated a communication device located at his wrist.

"Brother, I'm going to need some help."

Vaulkhar's eyes shut as he fell in on himself. His breathing slowed as survival became his sole objective.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Location: Sundari
Objective: Survive the Sundari Palace Collapse.
TSE: [member="Vash Windrider"] [member="Darth Carnifex"]
UCM: [member="Kaine Australis"] [member="Deram Carid"]

Experience and effort.

That was what made up for her lack of the Force when she fought under the blanket of the Braal’s crushing influence. She had the experience of a woman who had fought people larger and stronger than herself ever since she was a child in the dusty streets and blood soaked pits of Rattatak. - A woman who had been actively at war for more than thirty years, and taken her battle to the Netherworld itself where she had lived and fought without the Force.

Yes, her opening move was straight out of fighting armour 101, but if Deram was disappointed, then he was stepping into her trap of complacency.

As to his words? She ignored them. They were a distraction. This was a distraction. She needed to get to the throne room. She needed this man dead fast.

Her first blade connected with the poleaxe’s handle, and the second slipped into the gap behind the knee as she had aimed. However, the Mandalorian was able to protect his knee with movement and rapidly followed up with his own counter.

Ophidia shut off the sabre in her right hand to disengage with the ax, and the stepped not back but to the side with a step and pivot as Deram rushed forward at her position. With her sideways footwork, Ophidia avoided his rush but she felt his vice-like grip seize on her left wrist to remove her second sabre from the equation. The crushing power of the gauntlet compressed the alchemised plates on her vambrace, threatening to break the bones underneath if sustained.

His grip, the way he twisted her left hand away from her knee locked her in for the headbutt. However, she saw it coming and slipped one leg out behind her, then tucked her chin in just as his head came rushing forward. Extending herself in a solid structure, If they were not wearing full helmets, then her forehead would have been posed to strike his nose as he shot forward, rather than collide with his forehead. It was a trick she herself had been victim to and later adopted.

Darth Ophidia presented an un-moving object against his unstoppable force.

However, she had a second ace in that game; the lightsabre in her right hand, which had been shut off earlier. The inactive hilt angled itself as heads came to a blow, fingers ready on the trigger, then activated as beskar helm clashed against beskar helm. While the blow jarred Ophidia down to the bone, she kept enough presence of mind to thrust the lightsabre toward the gap underneath Deram’s helmet, where his jaw met his neck.

She felt it. Had it just come, or did it arrive before the headbutt? She felt the power of the Force returning to her body. Yet, with it came a flash of realisations. The battle. The death. The Dark Lord’s struggle.

Danger - Something bad was coming.

Frantically, the Pale Assassin threw a glance back at her assassins battling the Mandalorian patrol. She looked at her own opponent. Alarms, too far ahead to really see or hear, yet there. She tugged on her wrist, all in the span of a second. She would have to try it.

The Force wrapped around her, space shifting as everything dissolved around her.
Souls screamed out in horror.
The world went blinding white.
Pain.
Nothingness.

A blaring sun staring down on her as she gasped for air.​