Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!
Whilst the Ember of Vahl was having her forces on standby for possibly quite a siege, given that the Mandalorians are not known for surrender. And the Stone Hearted Sith brutalizing his way through mandalorian villages outside of the city's premises. With the Wanderer conducting the latter as well. Onyx Squad was within a shuttle prepping their gear for a jump out of the shuttle in the skies. Fancelo, who was right by the door and the red light. With Onyx already lining up, in a 2 column form. Alpha was the one in front. Ready to go at the command of their captain. As for Bravo, one stood unique among the rest. Private Marcus Jeno. The poor lad, heights was never his cup of tea.
The private somewhat shuddered in place as he started to let out a trembling exhale. Only to then jolt a bit in place as he was patted by his fellow teammate. Boon. The man adjusted the brace on his MTB-5, before asking the frightened private.
"Mark, you good brother?"
The shuddering private merely nodded. "Hu-huh? Y-yeah..." He gave another nod as a means of assurance. "Yeah." He gulped. "I'm alright, just a bit tense."
"It's only a jump and then the chute-packs slow our fall and we land. Simple as that. Just gotta keep your knees a bit bent, or they'll bend."
"I-I don't want that."
"Of course you don't. Cause then I'll have to deal with you." The chiss bravo medic intruded, a cold tone followed his words.
"Lock it up meatheads." Carmine spoke firmly into team comms.
Silence was followed afterwards. Only the hum of the shuttle's engine emanated. And eventually the shuttle's intercom sounded off, with the pilot's voice. "Approaching target zone, in 3..." The ramp opened, and the gusts of wind were somewhat blowing into the interior of the shuttle. The massive Corporate City can be seen quite well over to the right. "2..." Fancelo tightened his grip onto the handle bar, beside the ramp. "1!"
The red light turned green, and the fully ramp descended. Anden announced. "Onyx! The light is green! Pair 1, go!"
Anden continued. One after the other, a second of time in between their calling. Once Pair 5 was called, it was time for Boon and Marcus to jump. Boon, charged over to the ramp and lunged out once he reached the ramp. As for Jeno, he did the same thing too. Cursing in his helmet as he was just afraid. "Skrag, skrag, skrag..." He was set off the shuttle, and one would hear him scream. But the sound of wind going against him merely silenced it. Thankfully Marcus wasn't screaming in comms. After Pair 5's jump. It was the command elements of the squad to go, Vaak didn't hesitate and followed suit. "See you on the rally point sir!" He called out before falling off. Anden, merely glanced over towards the cockpit side and gave a thumbs up over to the co-pilot that watched the Gravewalkers disembark. Anden being the last, jumped. The ramp closing after his descent.
Each of the Onyx members flew, somewhat gliding their way down to where the rally point was, a dense rock formated area outside of the city but close. It seemed to be the perfect point of insertion, the chute-packs hidden by the massive anomalies. Upon approaching a certain altitude, the chute-packs were activated and thus the descent to the ground slowed.
Once the surface was reached, Anden took the chute-pack off and took hold of his pulse rifle. With a tap of his helmet, the rally point was marked and he was already heading there in a full on sprint. The scattered Onyx Squad, unless intervened with. Followed suit. Not far from each other. But spread regardless.
Anden announced on comms. "Once we reach the point, we're to move over to overwatch point desh and hold there until adviser gives us the order to move out."
The team leaders responded in acknowledgment on comms. All that was left was to regroup and take position. And stand by to infiltrate.
These streets came back to him, it was as if his body followed them before he could think. They'd become instinctual from the numerous times he'd traveled them unarmored.
They were to have been his tomb. Now, they were his duty to defend.
It didn't take long for him to find his way to the relative location of the drop pod, the basalisk war droid aided in his pursuit.
When in doubt, follow those. They always travel towards the battle.
A Qer'ak has to have a sixth sense for danger and threats. A force sensitive Qer'ak is more than capable of this feat. Nicair had gotten quite adept at the practice in the months of combat on Antisoch, to say nothing of the attempts on his life. He'd felt force users before, felt Sith before. They were there, and then they weren't. He hadn't encountered ysalamiri before.
So that's what it was like. Intriguing.
By the times the explosions rocked the ground he was perhaps a couple houses away. His helmet dulled the sound, but it was still enough to ring his ears.
It was about time you woke up.
Nicair wasn't able to catch everything the figure said, just enough to know that he wasn't whatever came out of the pod that rested close by. The armor, it seemed.. familiar almost. Like he'd seen a holoimage of it before, or he'd heard it described. He couldn't quite place it.
"Su'cuy. Where?" It was simple, short and sweet. Just enough to show the accent. Combat was combat. The only indication he gave for what he meant was a nod in the direction of the pod and the lack of anything inside it.
Where had he seen that armor before? It perturbed him.
Sociph accent places little emphasis on vowels, more on consonants.
Nicair has a follower
“So you are not dead, Koemi...” Yasha craned her head to the side, “Yet.”
The Emperor of the Sith heard her voice, saw her with his eyes, but there was little warmth to his being as he stroke so triumphantly into the throne room; swaggering as if he had already proven victorious. Despite all of the nullification fields saturating the palace, the Dark Lord of the Sith was no less imposing as he stalked towards the former Mand'alor. He stopped mere meters away, well-within striking distance of her spear and her other weapons.
He allowed her to plead with him, to lay bare her grievances and make them well-known. In that interim he said nothing, his eyes never wavering from meeting her own nor did his face betray any semblance of what he might've been thinking. Like most always, the Emperor was unreadable and unknowable.
A black shadow, wreathed in anger and malice; the will to dominate given physical form.
"You deceive yourself, Yasha." The Emperor's words cut through everything, all sound dimming at their utterance. "You were not happy, you were not free. If you had truly been either, would you have rushed to die here today?" Planting the spear-like end of his lightsaber deep into the marble floor, the Emperor reached behind him to unsheath a massive double-bladed glaive wrought entirely out of Mandalorian Iron. A fitting weapon to bear against someone who had, at one point, been the Sole Ruler of the Mandalorian people, much like as he was the Sole Ruler of the Sith people.
"Would you have left those children behind, motherless?" A twirl of his blade, the weapon carried so deftly in his large hands. "I handed you your future, and yet you spurn my gifts at the eleventh hour. So be it."
Carnifex adopted an aggressive battle stance, but did not make the first move.
He felt it as a shudder at first, the Sith had gripped Atin in the Force and so Gil prepared to correct his course...Except he didn't need to. The fool actually thought he could wrestle the might of a bes'uliik? Even powerful Sith Lords like Darth Vornskr and Ashin Varanin had known better. He must have been new, a recruit since after the first Sith-Mandalorian war...He didn't know, couldn't.
And he pittied him for that.
The thrusters expanded as Atin pushed forward. A proximity sensor in the lower cluster indicated the Sith had attempted to grip one of the droid's claws and for a moment they did stop moving...Because Gil had cut the engines. The claw the Sith was engaged with snapped closed as the Sith attempted to wrestle it, its nano-sharp claws squeezing against the man's leather armor. He heard the leather creak and squeak but had yet to see blood which meant like most Sith armors it was treated in their magics. Gil cursed and flipped a switch sending the droid rocketing straight into the air now instead of forward. They were several dozen meters into the air in a matter of seconds and climbing. Fast. Gil was of course sealed from the elements, but as they got higher and higher he wondered how the Sith would fare...
Location: Admin Sector of the Mines.
Objective: Defend the mines
Allies: UCM
Enemies: The Sith [member="Taeli Raaf"]
Seeing the obelisks land and unleash there horrors was little surprise to him, the sith were known for there horrors and abominations going before their own legion, He had a kill squad of 8 units from the Canis Brigade some of the best of the best he split them in half having 4 go up to the cranes so they have complete over watch and coverage and sent the other 4 where they can strike in hit and run formations. He only told them where to go, what they would do when they got there is up to them he thought it best to let them do there work as long as the commander is untouched. He wanted to face whoever was in charge of these forces in combat first, given the size he hoped it wouldn't be some cannon fodder commander as he and the rest of his men took positions and take aim.
He saw they where doing a slow march towards them no doubt as a attempt to either intimidate or show off there ego, Sith are well known for that too showing off there superiority where ever they can. He only hoped he could use that to his advantage without sacrificing the mine. He took a position in the rear where he can see the forces and readied his devastator to begin its barrage.
Fire and death rained from the sky. Scherezade, despite it all, seemed not to care too much about it. Had she remembered to bring a little soundplayer with her, she would have without a doubt played 'I'm Singing in the Rain' by Gene Kelly, who rumor had it that he was originally a Twi'lek named Zezpuzok and that he'd never actually been one of the slaves but always a free man with big dreams, which was why his agency had slapped a fake story on him, to appeal to the masses. Still, fake back story or not, he was a wonderful singer, and even more wonderful dancer. Scherezade had his entire routine memorized, though no matter how much product she applied to her hair, she couldn't fake the tied up lekku that Gene sported in the holorecording of his best delivery of the number.
But back to the battle field!
Shielded by Hevn, the thoughts that were racing through her mind were of a different kind than those that raced through him. Close enough now to be pressed against him, his shield covering them both, the Sithling grinned from ear to ear. "I'm going to take that as a yes," she beamed. So different from the crying broken girl he had seen on Coruscant. No, this was not there. This was a field of battle, and everything about it caused song to erupt from her very blood, song that had no music or lyrics and still pulsed beneath her skin regardless of any of that.
She wanted to dance to the song in the blood of the Mandalorians.
Tugged behind him now, there was no need to tell her not to let go. She was well aware of the protection the man offered, and was sufficiently versed with a plethora of Force abilities to know when this one or more relied on physical contact. Around them, parts of the dome came crashing down, leaving dents in the roads, setting more things on fire, and there were even a bunch of things going tik tik tik boom. All in all, it was a beautiful sight, and there was more than enough in it to wipe whatever remains of melancholy were in her.
"Spells work in High Sith too?" she asked with a touch of confusion once they were beneath the cover of buildings and Hevn had drawn the eye, "Wait, why mus? Mus means boot!" her voice was chipper. Before now, Scherezade had hearda variety of spells cast around her, and had cast more than a handful herself. Yet all of these, had been either in Paecan or Basic. This was the first time she got to hear one cast in High Sith, and while she was fluent in it, it was still strange to her ears to hear it be used in that way.
Again he held her tightly, and once more the grin appeared on her face.
"Of course I'm okay," she smiled brightly, "this is a war zone. How could I not be okay?"
Raising her hand, she carefully touched the tip of his forehead with the edge of her second and middle finger. While not a witch herself, she was no stranger to how witch abilities worked, holding within her mind the witch training her grandmother had received, as well as the months that she herself had tutelaged with the former Nightmother. She couldn't give him much, not if she wanted to enjoy this dance of death properly. But she could give him a little something. "A kernel," she explained as she exhaled, and the power moved from her to him. There would be no forcing him into it though; if he wished to reject the kernel of power that would help him recover faster, he was welcome to do so, and she would harbor him no ill will.
And then she heard it.
[SIZE=13.5pt]"Sith'ari,"[/SIZE]
[SIZE=13.5pt]"You have come to fight. Come, step out of the shadows.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=13.5pt]Let us accomplish your goals."[/SIZE]
Scherezade and Hevn were under cover now, shielded by his spell. But that call… "I must answer it," she whispered, knowing that by doing so she was potentially putting them both at risk. But what was war if not a little bit risky?
"I got first dibs on that tuna can!" she whispered excitedly, "wait here until it looks like I need help, or until I kill him. Whatever comes first!" Of course, she had no idea that another Sith, [member="Darth Kentarch"], was nearby.
Without waiting for Hevn to reply, she let go ofhim, bouncing out of their hiding spot. One hand removed the mesh from her face so she could take a good look at @Ra Viszla. He was not a Mandalorian whose face she had seen before. Inhaling deeply, she took in his scent and… Well. Looked like life had a wicked sense of humor. Finally facing a Mandalorian head on, and it just had to be a Gurlanin. It seemed like the wolves chased her wherever she went to and whatever she tried to do. Maybe if she was lucky enough she could skin this one; her bathroom could really use a new rug on the floor.
"You wanna help me accomplish my goals, mister?" she said with the sweetness of a child. Letting the hilts of her lightsabers slide into her hands, she grinned. Would he know how many blades she was hiding about her body? Not all of them were in plain sight, though she had to with the big ones, since those really couldn't be hidden under any armor. "Then give me a worthy fight and then die. I would super appreciate it if you could die in your animal form."
And then still smiling, she ignited both lightsabers, their green beams making the emerald glow of her own eyes seem even brighter.
Location: New Keldabe, Mandalore
Allies: Sith
Enemies: Not my Mandos
Tag: [member="Gilamar Skirata"]
Objective: Victory
He sometimes view the battle with a religious eye. The transportation of troops from the stars to the earth was one scenario where he saw if those were righteous enough to break through the atmosphere. All was based by judgement of the gods, or so Vilaz thought. If they deemed a warrior worthy enough to fight on terrain, they would give them safe passage until they had reached the battlefield. Otherwise they would not grant them their blessings and have them blown into the cold void of space. The Warlord personally thought that maybe he wasn’t worthy enough to survive the bombs in space considering what he was about to do and not wanting to undo that decision. Surely this heretical behavior was enough for a turbolaser to strike him and atomize his body into pieces; however, no harm would come near him during his trek to Mandalore. Ironic that the gods deemed him worthy for combat despite the war he had brought to their homeland.
Or perhaps they were drunk, paying little attention to the current events.
Many either shared the blessing he received or the demise of the patrons of war and luck. Such were the ways of modern warfare as usual.
Parjai and her rider reached Mandalore’s atmosphere and then broke through. Vilaz was unscathed from entering the atmosphere and so did his war droid as it was designed for situations such as these when reentering. The Mandalorian continued to dive at great velocity for New Keldabe with his army following him. His scanners began to pick up any hostile tags to be eliminated, and one in particular caught his attention.
The Architect.
”That fething old man,” he muttered to himself with temper in his voice.
”Continue for the city and conquer it, do not worry for me. I want nothing but efficient coordination from y’all without my presence.” And with or without Vilaz the other commanders of his Clan knew how to work eloquently without the matter of pride ruining their organization. That sin was something kept in check amongst his clansmen, although it could be used as tool at times.
Vilaz moved like a frenzy to find him. A man that he had respect for, but lost after the man showed how regressive his choices were; symbolizing how out of touch he was with evolution of the Galaxy, fighting against those changes. Like a salmon fighting the current only to be preyed on by a bear for their lack of vision.
”GIL!” with a mighty roar escaping from his lungs and Parjai intending to ram into Gilamar’s own bes’uliik, but not engage with it in close quarters. There was a Sith entangled in this engagement, and frankly Vilaz did not care for his life. Yes, he had come to conquer Mandalore, but he was free to operate at his own will. Another Sith would replace him if he were to die.
”A shame to see that bounty hunter didn’t kill you, but at least he gave you something to remember me by.”
K O R _ V E X E N Location | Mandalore, Sundari Outskirts Objective | Operation Pitfall - Occupy Sundari TSE and Irate Mandalorians | Allies The UCM | Adversaries
Vexen had been recuperating his breath as he had returned to the forward command center. His troops were already in position for Pitfall to commence along with the Sith's Valkyries. A direct assault on Sundari might have seemed off considering there was nothing but sand between them and the Mandalorians which made it fairly easy to whittle an enemy down, but the Sith Empire's armies began to mobilize on a march towards the dome as it was continuously being barraged by artillery. However, the worry was not the enemy that the Mandalorians could see, but rather the ones they couldn't see; specifically the dozens of subterranean vehicles currently burrowing their way deep beneath the sand upon which the enemy stood on as their defensive lines. He would take the city, or have it turned to ash as a show of dominating the Mandalorian's spirit.
___
While the Mandalorians had been focused on the Sith troops landing and sieging the city, Vexen had ordered the deployment of numerous Rumbler Armored Personnel Carriers and Bandit Annihilator Droids for additional armored support. The telltale rumblings of the digging done beneath the sand was largely overlooked, and as a result would become a perfect instrument in disrupting the Mandalorians as well as their defensive positions. As they burrowed their way far beneath the surface, a number of refitted Rumblers would have been deploying strategic explosives deep beneath the sand prior to the advance of the Sith forces, placing them beneath the ground that the Mandalorians stood on. While they were fairly deep that the explosions wouldn't be an immediate threat to the Mandalorian defenses, but once the explosives went off, the terrain would be turned against them and throw them into disarray as the Sith forces marched onwards.
A deep crimson glow filled the interior of one of the Rumblers filled with troops, casting an eerie glow on the numerous troops packed inside, all of whom were heavily armed and armored. Among them was [member="Cara Dalgas"] clad in her signature Dragoon Armor, tasked with leading the strike teams being inserted inside of Sundari and assisting the Sith Valkyries also being inserted with them. She'd holster her blaster pistols as she clicked her comms several times in a particular sequence, a ready call. Several blips of light flashed in acknowledgement; sign of her team being ready. The Rumbler would abruptly jostle around as the reinforced drill head began to cut its way through the portions of the dome that dug into the sand as part of its foundation. She'd lean forward as she raised her wrist up to her chest level. A ghostly blue image of the Anzati General would appear, casting a light blue glow in the interior of the personnel carrier, " Captain, proceed with Operation Pitfall. Disrupt the enemy from within and assist whatever Sith assets that require it. The rest of the Imperial Legion will soon follow after to take the city...Do not fail. " The woman would nod as her visor slid over her face and her eyes illuminated, a vocoded voice responding, " It will be done sir... "
The Dragoon Captain's Rumbler and several more would breach the city's limits from underground, additional explosives being planted in their wake as a brief pause followed once they reached their destination. The Rumblers and Bandits that were burrowing their way underneath the city would soon be digging their way to the surface as the Captain raised a hand and tapped her finger on her wrist. A quick beep was heard followed by silence.
. . . . .
The calm before the storm... Or in this case, the equivalent to an earthquake being felt beneath the Mandalorian's feet as the subterranean explosives went off from underneath their feet. In a mere instant, several tons of sand was instantly vaporized at varying depths, creating a massive void of empty space that would soon find itself being rapidly filled by the sand from above that wasn't caught in the blast, thus creating an effect similar to that of numerous massive sinkhole beneath the Mandalorian defensive line as the ground gave out beneath their feet to throw their infantry into disarray as the ground gave way beneath them like quicksand, similar reports happening all around the dome as the Sith forces advanced, applying pressure to the disoriented troops and half buried vehicles. For those unprepared and slow on reflexes would soon find themselves waist deep in sand.
___
As the Sith troops descended upon the Mandalorians, a young Mandalorian was scrambling to dig himself out of the sand he found himself trapped in, several more in his squad attempting to do the same. The haze cast by sand plumes descending obscured his vision as his breathing was rapidly accelerating. A familiar hum was heard as a crimson glow was seen. The lightsaber was thrown out towards the trapped Mandalorians, boomeranging around in the air as it swiftly decapitated several of them before returning to the wielder. The young Mandalorian had his eyes shut as he saw the crimson flash, expecting to share the same fate. He'd open one eye to look around as the slow and methodical crunch of sand was heard under heavy footsteps. A smoldering helmet would roll in front of the young man, his comrade's head still inside as he shakily looked left and right to see the headless corpses of his comrades simply slumped over. The footsteps would pause as a shadow loomed over the trapped Mandalorian. A slow and shaky turn of his head to look upward would reveal that the Sith General was already present on the frontlines, his troops moving forward to clear out and execute any Mandalorians not prepared in a swift and brutal fashion.
A quiet gulp was heard before it was suddenly replaced by gasps for breath as an invisible hand gripped the young man's throat. Vexen would use the Force to rip the man out of the sand, dislocating joints in the process, not caring for the pain that followed as the Mandalorian struggled to even muster a scream. His limp and dislocated legs would dangle a foot off the ground, flopping in the air as he sputtered for breath, eyes bulging from beneath his visor as his vision soon became obscured by a hand gripping it. A brief pause followed as the hand gripped his head, the crushgaunts activating as it was being crushed in the Anzati's grip. The visor would shatter as glass sprayed into the man's face, the helmet began to give in and crumple like a tin can, the desperate gaze of the young man staring at Vexen's expressionless helmet, a silent plea for mercy that fell on deaf ears. In the following moment the helmet would cave in, followed by the man's skull as it was crushed entirely, the body going entirely limp in an instant before being tossed off to the side. There was no honor to be had for the Mandalorians in death that were unfortunate enough to cross his path, no glory in death; just despair. ___
Another beep was heard inside of Cara's Rumbler followed by another lengthy silence, soon interrupted by a series of loud explosions as the explosives buried in the foundations of Sundari's domed walls detonated, opening up massive holes in the city's walls. The Rumblers would soon breach the surface, tearing through pavement as they rolled out onto the streets, lowering their ramps as Cara stepped out into the city of Sundari, looking around as her troops began to deploy from the vehicles. One of her troops would lightly pound their fist on Cara's shoulder as she turned. The two would give a nod as the trooper clad in the same armor as they both crouched down before launching themselves into the air, their suit's thrusters activating as they moved to identify any targets of interest. An armored patrol would come by to investigate only to be ambushed as a Bandit Annihilator droid erupted from the ground, its cannon arms ablaze and disruptor tail firing destructive bolts of energy that disintegrated on contact, their shields proving too much for conventional weapons to do anything against while they tore through infantry and vehicles alike.
Elite Sith forces had penetrated the city of Sundari while the bulk of the Sith armies were skirmishing with Mandalorians outside the walls, their numbers starting to pour into the massive holes blown into the dome's walls.
Patrolling and maintaining security...
Allies: UCM | Enemies: Sith forces
The invasion force was in full swing, with rumbling thuds and explosions and tremors sounding from beyond the palace interior. So far the corridors remained intact, held together by strong construction and steels. The very nature of the palace was designed for war, a fortress despite what some might perceive as artful decoration. But whether it could withstand the punishment getting closer from the Sith forces beyond remained to be seen. Still, despite the relative peacefulness of the palace, Deram wanted to be on the front lines. He also knew there was a need to ensure security and safety of the Mand'alor's location... and so it was that, accompanied by a handful of young Mandalorian warriors, Deram patrolled the corridors of the lower palace.
"Eyes open, don't completely rely on your equipment," The older warrior said in a low tone, his voice filtered through the full-plate mask he wore. "The Sith are well aware of some of our tricks of the trade, so you can bet they've accounted for certain things."
It probably sounded like nagging to the younger vod, but ultimately they were following a senior clansman and they simply had to put up with it. Besides, Deram wasn't above clipping the younger warriors around the ears, and had made fair and reasonable examples of troublemakers if they cropped up. Thinking of cropping up, Deram felt it was time for a frequency check-in, just to ensure the various patrols throughout the palace were on point and prepared.
"Carid calling for a comm check, report in palace patrols," He said through the communicator within his helmet. He remained silent as various voices replied, confirming with phrases. "Lower patrols, come in?"
Some of the patrols stationed beneath Deram's own position weren't responding. It was possible there was interference, especially given the fog below and its effects on equipment, but it never hurt to be careful. And while the absence of a few patrols under normal circumstances might have been cause for alert, the fact they were in the midst of an invasion raised that to alarmed. Calm, but certainly cautious and in a state of increased awareness...
"We're missing some check-ins, lads," Deram commented dryly, as he gripped the handle of his axe. "Be as ready as you can be... we might have trouble."
The group of six continued walking through the corridors, moving in staggered formation, keeping spacing and watching their surroundings...
I'll try contacting the unresponsive patrols again in a few minutes.
Location: Planetside, Dome exterior, Into the Interior via the top Allies: Sith Empire: [member="Alkor Centaris"] [member="Darth Carnifex"] Enemies: United Clans of Mandalore @Kaine Australis [member="Yasha Cadera"] [member="Valdus Bral"] Objective: Enter the dome. Equipment: Rapture Cannon Mk.1, HAVOC Magma Cannon and rest in Sig
The rebounding force and pressure subsided forcing the armored giant to take two steps back after his scream ended. Burying his sword in the ground blade first and resting against it as if to take in a breath Kezeroth gazed at the beauty of Alkor and his creation. A one hundred meter hole across the exterior dome. Before hand the explosion that birthed this sight before them still rang in the ear like a grenade in close proximity. Sulfuric eyes gazed about at the sands and Sith empire forces in the distance in hold or perhaps preparing? The world itself seemed to spin slightly. The soil below shifting into a foreign substance, explosions in the distance merging and blending with a mirage of other sounds. The nerves in the Gen'dais neck pulsed involuntarily. A twitch. The sands... grass. The dunes...tall forrest trees and behind Kezeroth was no longer his allies but his enemies. The dome was no more and instead rested a massive temple.
Mandalorians. What?
All of this was restricted to Kezeroths mind but yet it felt real. Suddenly his lucid vision was broken when his body ignited into flames. Still a memory wrought to the surface in his mind. A simple thought, then quickly submerged. Still it persisted. A splinter in the minds eye. "Mmmm. The Dome is breached....take care of the rest on your own. I will meet up with you on the inside" Red eyes glanced once at [member="Alkor Centaris"] and then to the other obstructions past the domes shattered main gate. He could do it. Hopefully. Breaching the dome was going to take to long. Each second that passed was valuable to the enemy and costly for the sith. Kezeroth had no time to waste and this would not be his path taken. Blood needed to be spilled. Unclasping his helmet and placing back on his head the Gen'dai gripped his sword and squatted deep into the ground. A savage roar escaped the breath as the large figure leaped high into the air several meters onto the side of the domes side. Magno-grip boots locked onto the surface briefly before another massive leap was made propelling him further toward the top. The scraping and dragging of metal screamed with the touch of his blade making contact every so often with the dome. He managed to crawl his was up to the top within several minutes. The rage flowing through every vein within Kezeroths body demanded him to breach a hole atop the dome but what he found was a surprise to him as well. Scorching blasts, dents in the metal and jagged tears had already been present atop the dome.
Sensory acuity boom with a twinge of deep vibrations surging through what felt like a hollow interior of his body. Turning around Mandalorian bombers could be seen approaching fast in the distance.
" INCOMING!" The monster screamed atop the dome pointing a finger toward the birds in the sky before the armored Gen'dai dropped down into the Dome activating his jetpack with a scream of energy. The stream directing and steering him to a nearby balcony ten meters below from the top of the dome. There was no doubt that gunfire and heavy weapons would quickly follow after him. That was fine. He would not be here for too long. The darkside arose around him as he continued to feed on the chaos that was all around him. All the misery and despair. Inhaled like toxins into the lungs.
A smile spread over Joycelyn Zambrano’s lips as the city bristled with will to fight. They said she did not know how to speak to Mandalorians, how to make them surrender. This was false. She knew exactly how to speak to them, and she knew that the only thing that could make them surrender was an overwhelming defeat. She had led them to a position where they welcomed the conflict. They would not welcome the fallout.
“Engage preliminary bombardment.” She looked up at the flashing fire and shapes of ships in the atmosphere and low orbit. “And deal with those ships.”
Joycelyn leaned back in her saddle as the Fellbeast set into a dive. The air screamed around her as it tugged on the phrik plate armour. As she dived the artillery aimed.
The long guns of the Harbingers aimed toward the skies, already primed and just waiting for a target they honed in on Mandalorian or civilian ships entering or leaving the atmosphere; the heavy rail cannons fired their volley while Hailstormss picked off ships lower in the atmosphere with rockets, effectively putting a layer of protection over the scattered rail cannons.
Meanwhile, embanked AT-HAs turned toward ArmaTech city. Their tripod legs stood firm, drilled into the ground as they aimed and fired, not at the city centre,, but it’s Eastern and Western sides. They aimed at crushing it from the periphery to chase the populace inward to a kill zone. Lest they run to their immediate death in a pit of burning debris and raining plasma.
“Release the wasps” Joycelyn broke out of the dive and swept over her troops.
The walkers marked with jagged marks walked out ahead of the rest, nearly rushing toward the city, as quickly as a massive infantry walker could rush. They made their way toward the centre, braving counter-fire. As they disappeared between the tall structures of the city, the sides of the walkers opened up. From within came no legion, but a horror.
They spread from their horde mother, housed within the transport and still laying eggs that would later hatch into more terrible offspring. They spread chaos, breaking their way into houses and pulling out the inhabitants, armed or not. Their corrosive saliva made short work of any civilian barrier, and in concerted effort they could etch and claw their way through military structures as well.
These monsters were born, bred, and taught the difference between the Sith and their legions, and the sweet flesh of an enemy.
Joycelyn swept up from behind on the back of her kakdijs zuta. Force fear emanated from its body to shake the defenders of ArmaTech city and to stir the wasps. She turned her beast and landed it on a tall building. It drew a deep breath while digging into the transparisteel with its claws, then let out a torrent of green, toxic fog into the enclosed space.
The message was clear: If you will not surrender, then you will die. And this death would not be honourable, only gruesome.
The Valkyrie duo of Avacyn and Charlyra had little choice but to. For as long as the dome that separated the Sith forces from the city underneath it stood, there was no way into Sundari. And so inside one of the Rumblers digging their way into the city they waited, for they knew that no wall was impenetrable. General Vexen had already begun to execute his plan and soon the dome would fall. All Avacyn had to do was wait for the moment it was time to move, but until then her hands were idle.
With idle hands, one had little to keep themself occupied with except their own thoughts. Avacyn's thoughts tortured her. Her beloved, ripped away from her in the blink of an eye. There was nothing she could've done, but she wasn't certain if that eased her mind or troubled it even more. Every inch of her body felt like it was burning, overcome by a kind of grief that could haunt a soul forever.
That pain, that agony, even though it was not what she wanted, fuelled her. Would Avacyn speak honestly, she would say she wanted to break down into a million pieces, be far removed from the galaxy entirely. The Dark side she carried with her, however, would not allow that. Those feelings were overwhelmed by rage. By hatred.
Then, an earth-shaking explosion. They were inside. Avacyn cast her gaze towards Charlya.
"No mercy."
Avacyn exited the Rumbler and entered the city. There was blood to be spilled.
Two ships shaped like miniature Alor-class Dreadnoughts slipped into realspace above Concord Dawn. Behind them, a third ship, half the size and cloaked within a stygium field, also entered the system. Aboard this third ship, Kiela stood at command, her Besh-style Battle Armor the only symbol of authority that she wore. "What the kark is that?" Kiela asked as she stared at the error message flashing holographic display.
Telescopic lenses swiveled in their mounts and brought the anomaly into view, relaying the spacial monstrosity upon flat viewscreens arrayed aboard the bridge of the covert battleship. Centered boldly upon these view screens, a churning hole in space rotated in silence, debris from dead and dieing starships drifting into its angry maw. "What... That's not a wormhole, is it?" Kiela asked in wonder, having never seen the horrors of Yuuzhan Vong weaponry before.
"No, mam." The sensor operator said after a few moments pause. "Computer thinks... it's a gravitational singularity. A weaponized black hole. Apparently they're not horribly unheard of in the main galaxy."
"That... Helm, keep us well away from that thing." Kiela said to her navigations officer, knowing full well that the human male probably had no intention of doing anything of the sort.
"Yes, mam." He said simply.
The two larger ships began to move forward, slowly approaching the still active battlespace. Behind and between them, using their combined mass as a shield against gravity based sensors, the covert battleship echoed their approach. "Is that an Alor-class Dreadnought?" Kiela asked her sensor officer as she returned her gaze to the holographic display. A pair of heavily damaged ships sat central within a cloud of debris. Numerous frigates and corvettes still battled one another, dozens of starfighters darting about in deadly dances with one another. And one large warship, roughly the size of an Alor'ad-class Dreadnought continued to engage the floundering warship and what she could only assume were its escorts.
"No, mam. But... the design does seem to be similar." The sensor officer reported. "And some of those starfighters are displaying as Kyr'gal-class Starfighters, with an 80% similarity."
"So... Mandalorian." Kiela said as she eyed the display. "Mark those ships friendly and identify any targets they're engaging or being engaged by as hostile." Kiela ordered and watched as colored icons slowly switched to red or blue variants of themselves. However, far too many remained yellow for her liking. And, if the state of the 'not an alor' dreadnought was any indication, the Mandalorian forces here could not afford for her to sit and wait while she figured out who she was here to protect.
"Weapons, prepare Armor Piercing ammunition for all guns." Kiela ordered.
"Aye, mam."
"Order the Alor'ade to prepare flak ammunition for all guns." Kiela said to her comms officer.
"Aye, mam."
"And have the Kaden Buir broadcast a message on all frequencies." Kiela added after a moment.
"Aye, mam. Message?"
In the deep black sea above Concord Dawn, the pair of Alor'ad-class Battleships leaped forward as massive overdrive engines roared to life, hurling the ships forward at speeds that would be highly unusual for ships half their size. As they raced forward, the two ships rotated on their primary axis until the belly of either ship was pointed at the other. Great batteries of weapons spun forward and to broadsides as enormous gatling cannons spun to life, preparing themselves for the order to fire. On all frequencies, a simple order was broadcast throughout subspace.
Where once there had been nothing, flashes of light and bursts of radioactive and electromagnetic energy heralded the arrival of the Besh Mandalorians. The Morut be te Kyr'bes dropped into realspace with a slight shudder rolling through her hull, flanked on all sides by sister ships and escorts that likewise fell from hyperspace with all the subtility and grace of the Kool-Aid Man. Upon her command deck, Olivia let out an audible gasp as the verdant world of her childhood stood proud upon every viewscreen on the bridge. <How?> Olivia wondered to herself. The world had been covered in toxic winds and acid rain when last she saw her home. "What's our position?" Olivia asked her bridge crew, narrowly avoiding the impulse to ask 'is that Mandalore.'
"Nav computer puts us just outside of a low orbit, mam." The navigational officer reported. "Concordia's to our port"
"Multiple contacts." Reported the sensor officer, interrupting the other man. "Several capital ships and numerous escorts... some of these sensor readings are huge, mam."
"Do we have a visual?" Olivia asked her officers, desperately needing more information before she could plan their next move. "Are we detecting weapon's fire? What's their positioning?"
"They're obscured by the planet, mam. No visual. But we're detecting energy discharges that seem to indicate weapon's fire." The sensor officer reported. "Computer's saying they're holding position over Sundari."
<Well that's bad.> Olivia thought as she recalled the ruined state Sundari had been reduced to after the Cataclysm. "What's happening on the planet? Have they begun ground invasions yet."
"Stand by..." The sensor operator said as he worked the dizzying array of controls that adorned his station. "I... We can't get a good reading on the far side of the planet... but we're detecting heavy air traffic around Keldabe City. And... We're detecting some sort of debris field around the planet."
Olivia clenched her fist as her mind worked over the implications. While Keldabe had been ruins when last she had seen the planet, the old City had been only a few short kilometers from the Larraq Homestead. If the city had been rebuilt, it would make an excellent strategic target to assault. And if it was under attack, then Mishka and the rest of her family were in grave danger. Or had chosen to throw themselves into danger's path by trying to save the city. "Where's the debris field located?" Olivia asked as her eyes bore holes into the holodisplay.
"Everywhere, mam." The sensor operator reported. "Uniform disposition. Surrounds the entire planet. Computer says it's probably a minefield."
<Kark.> Olivia thought as her mind dwelt upon her youngest sibling. Somehow, she had to get through a minefield, deploy reinforcements down at Keldabe, and move her fleet to the other side of the planet to push the Sith (or whoever) away from Sundari and the Mandalorian homeworld. More importantly, she had to get both accomplished immediately.
<Through the front door it is.> Olivia thought as she unclenched her fist, relaxing as she settled on a course of action. "Plot us an intercept course for the fleet over Sundari. One that will have us pass over Keldabe on the way." Olivia called out to her navigations officer. "I want the whole fleet ready to launch drop pods at my order. We'll clear out the mines on our pass, deploy emergency reinforcements on the pass, and detach a landing force to secure the city."
"Aye, Alor." Came a chorus of voices as Olivia's officers began to implement her instructions. "Anything else, mam?" Asked the Operations officer. "What of the fighters?"
"Hold fighters in reserve for the moment." Olivia answered after a brief pause for reflection. "And get us moving already!"
In the heavens above Mandalore, the Besh Mandalorian warships began to move. Each ship dove towards the planet, the fleet spreading into a wide, flat formation as it moved. Each of the three largest ships were at the fore, with Alor-class Dreadnoughts following in their wake in an offset 'line abreast' formation. Behind that was a line of Battleships, then the Alor'ad, then the Ruus'alor, followed by the light cruisers, and lastly by the frigates and corvettes. Each line of ships formed offset to the line ahead. The fleet moved swiftly, at a pace set by the largest ships at the fore and at a speed unheard of for ships of that size. As the formation approached the edge of the minefield surrounding the planet, the whole of the fleet opened fire. Gatling mass driver turrets and super-heavy twin mass driver cannons worked in unison to unload an immense volume of exploding flak rounds into the field of finely calibrated mechanical devices. Metal fragments filled the void above Mandalore for brief moments before the chain reaction of detonating mines illuminated vast swaths of sky in blinding light above Keldabe. A few moments later, as the wall of shrapnel and blinding explosions continued to spread like a wave across the heavens, hundreds of armored drop pods began to rain from the sky, each curving towards the city of Keldabe as they fell. Behind this rain of metal pods, two specialized Battleships broke away from the rest of the fleet and began a slow descent towards the surface of the planet, aiming for the fields outside of Keldabe city with four small frigates escorting the ship's on their approach. Were planetary shields to seek to hold the ships from entering the atmosphere of the planet, these six ships would surround themselves in powerful electromagnetic fields, disrupting and weakening the shields of the planet just enough for them to force their way though as the rest of the Besh Mandalorian fleet raced onward towards Sundari and what waits in orbit above that impenetrable city.
This was certainly a different side of Scherezade. Quite chipper and jovial about the matter of escaping an artillery spread. She was light as air instead of heavy as a star destroyer. That wasn’t much cause for to be relieved in this situation. Unless she was a far better fighter without the distraction of her pain. He was about to find out.
The taunt roared out over the street and though it did not tempt Hevn, Scherezade felt differently. Bedrovelse preferred a more cunning and tactical approach to assailing enemies, as face to face was rarely what it seemed. Anyone brazen enough to saunter down the street and just heckle for a fight wasn’t alone. Scherezade seemed to take an abundance of pleasure in the risk. He accepts her offer of power transfer before watching her leave the circle.
He rises to a stand, nodding to confirm the plan as she left no room for discussion. At her mention of an animal form he wonders what manner of shapeshifter this Mandalorian was.
Location: Sundari, Dome exterior Allies: Sith Empire, [member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Constantinius Zambrano"] Enemies: United Clans of Mandalore Objective: Get into the city Equipment:Vibroscalpel
Her attention snapped toward the sharp screech in the skies. Wide-eyed, the girl watched a hideous monstrosity like no other. Why did the Sith always have to go for ugly and creepy things? Why not cute animals? With its landing came a cloud of ash and dust swirling about. A hand instinctively rose up to cover her eyes, even though it was unneeded. The annoying particles to fly Funami’s way miraculously gave the small child a wide berth, traveling alongside the orb of unseen energy around her. A small frown settled on her face, watching Sam interact with the beast. Was it tame enough to not eat her whole? Funami would make a bad meal, all skin and bone. Slowly, carefully, the young Atrisian edged closer to Sam and her pet, stopping several meters short, not daring to take another step.
“Wow.” The small Sith ushered and took a picture of the creature before pocketing the device and taking in the scenery. Sith fighters raced above her head, playing cat and mouse with Mandalorian ships and hammering the dome with laser. Fire and smoke licked up the sky and the sounds of fierce battle called her name. The anticipation was killing her, her desire to be a part of it overpowering. The dark slowly began to gnaw at her mind again, searching for a chance to take over and wreak havoc. Feeling a twitch in her body for no apparent reason, Funami drew a deep breath and calmed her thoughts. Getting a hold of herself, she delayed the urge for a little longer. Only a minute or two of walk and she—
An explosion struck nearby.
“Wha-” Funami snapped and winced in surprise. Explosive shots started thundering against her valiant defender. This was getting too close for comfort and she mentally praised her decision to pause and take pictures instead of staying close behind the man. Tall and heavily armored, he was an irresistible target to draw enemy attention. Which worked in her favor as nobody would pay any mind to a small, barely noticeable figure like her. Just to be sure, a thought of hers went to reinforce the layers of her psychokinetic armor with additional energy. The pink-haired head turned toward the dome, alert eyes searching for any trace of the gunners. Blaster fire erupted among the Sith forces a second later, showering the snipers with a barrage of their own to provide cover for the advancing legions of Sith.
“Sam! Let’s slip to the dome while they’re busy with Mr. Mountain here!” Funami called after the brunette with a note of urgency in her voice. Little legs darted toward the endless ranks of advancing troops, carrying the small-statured Sithling behind their bodies. She cast a look over her shoulder to spare the tallest Sith of all one last glance. “Thanks for taking one for the team. Ta ta!”
As long as even the lowliest Sith trooper drew breath, nobody would fire at the small, pink-haired girl who looked absolutely nothing like Sith, right? Counting on that, she switched one grunt for another as her small body pushed past them toward the city. Those around her marched, ran, took cover, fought, and died. Ordinary troops or the Emperor’s elite, all were equally expendable meat shields to Funami and she playfully skipped over the bodies that started dotting the ground with increased intensity. The gaping hole punched into the dome by her Sith allies and leading into the city was her goal.
Only a few heavily armored ants stood between her and her destination. Too preoccupied fighting Sith infantry, the small child had completely evaded their attention. Why bother with some little brat when real warriors spewed slugs and lasers at one another? Wisely in cover behind one of the Empire's finest, she peered at the offending party.
No hand gesture was needed to translate her wish for their death into reality. Just a thought was enough to floor several Mandalorians who had so foolishly defied the unstoppable Sith wave. A rush of dark power lifted them off their feet and choked the air from their lungs. An awful crunch, one last kick of their legs, and the men in her mental grasp went limp. Sneering, Funami hurled the corpses directly at their comrades, like a spoiled child discarding a disliked toy. She swept past them without a sideways glance, occasionally yanking a randomly selected body into the air to catch a few projectiles for her. Any Mandalorian soul unfortunate enough to get too close reached for their throat, gagging, before going down where they went forever still. To her, it was a game, ending lives with a childishly innocent cruelty.
“Such fragile creatures you are.” The psychokinetic prodigy commented, voice sinking rather than mounting as she derived perverse pleasure from the surrounding annihilation.
A voice of song broke through the silence, and a woman stepped out into the rubble remains of the Dome where the escape pod had crashed. The beskar brazen helm of the former Mand'alor glared through the thin layers of dust, thunderous echoes of war raging in the backdrop. The heavy greaves of Ra Vizsla moved forward from the rock, the larger Mandalorian standing up and unclipping his cloak as it fell to the ground. His helmet in hand, he placed it back on his head as his visor brightened red.
"You wanna help me accomplish my goals, mister?"
A darker rendition of a child, the Sith always loved to mock concepts that the Mando'ade strived for. Honor, glory, chivalry, redemption...
None of this mattered to the twisted minds of the Sith'ari.
"Then give me a worthy fight and then die. I would super appreciate it if you could die in your animal form."
Interesting.
The Ysalamiri weren't in range yet. This one must be an apprentice, or a weaker Knight.
It defied his studies.
"Kneel."
Ra was fast. Incredibly fast.
The Ra everyone knew was tough. Large. Brutish.
Always known to draw his prey in close to overpower.
....He had never been this fast.
A cord of blue vibrant light shot out from his hand, crackling through the air as it raced to strike the midsection of the woman, tempting to wrap around her torso as he would pull.
Attempting to subdue and forcibly bring her down to the ground.
Cohort: The Sith Empire | [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Darth Rage"]
Adversaries: United Clans of Mandalore | [member="Mig Gred"]
The dust had begun to settle by the time the two parties met - though a permeating breeze continued to kick up bits here and there. Hakai's expression twisted into a perverse smile as his challenge was rebuffed.
"This land belongs to Clan Gred, Dar'jetii (Not Jedi, Sith)! Not you."
*Belongs*. The word resounded in Hakai's mind. *What an antiquated notion. As if it is their right to the land.* The dark sider's internal thoughts quieted, eyes taking note of their rapidly deteriorating tactical position. It was fortunate that tactical positioning hadn't been his goal, at least conventional tactical positioning. Even behind his plated armor and a stone's throw away from the stalwart defenders of the homestead, Hakai could feel the energy emanating from the man as his weapons engaged. The ronin flexed his fingers, hovering his hand above the grip of his katana. Of the plasma weapon the Mandalorian held, Hakai was not afraid. His own blade was one of Phrik - resilient against standard weapons and lightsabers alike. All the pieces were there, the pot bubbling - soon enough it would boil over.
"Ahh." a sigh escaped Hakai's lips, an almost robotic quality imbued to it as the vocoder in his helmet amplified it. "That is where you are mistaken, Jidai. This land belongs only to those who have the might to keep it." As the final words were uttered, Hakai's Retainers activated their electrostaves with a harsh cackle of electricity. The game was afoot. The simple breeze that had been persistent since their arrival had begun to pick up again, swirling about the small gathering of soon to be combatants. The those in armor would note little difference but the evidence of the increasing speed would readily harass any loose fitting garments. In a slow deliberate fashion, Hakai's gloved fist wrapped around the narrow hilt of his own blade, drawing it forth in a wide arc. Raising two hands to the hilt he held the blade forward. "To the death."
More agile than might have been expected, Hakai surged forward towards the Mandalorian blade still raised. His footsteps were carefully measured. His approach was careful but direct, less a bull rush and more that of a viper's strike. As he closed within striking distance the point of the blade dipped and in an instant stabbed outwards towards his enemy's chest.
The roar of battle surrounded them as the Mandalorians fought for their homeworld. Charlyra adored their ferocity and how much they valued this land, quietly she climbed into the Rumbler. It jolted as it worked - but it did work, per the orders of General [member="Kor Vexen"] the Valkyries with several other strike teams would tunnel beneath the dome and emerge to deliver the Sith's message in person. Bow, or die.
As the Rumbler pushed ever forward tunneling through - Charlyra could feel the energy that now seemed to radiate from her Master. Her breather mask made little in the way of sound, the hood she wore covered just enough of her face that all one could see were her eyes. Dark side corruption evident as she patiently waited for their moment to strike. There is no death, there is only the Force - even now as many on both sides of this battle perished their very being fueled the Force. In turn, fueled them for the Force was a tool to be used against the weak and as the Rumbler powered beneath Mandalore's earth Charlyra gathered it around her.
The violent clash as the Rumbler punched through the dirt, was enough to let the Sith know that they had arrived. Darth Avacyn cast a gaze toward the acolyte giving only a single order. One that the would-be Valkyrie was more than okay in obeying, at that moment the duo emerged from the Rumbler. Charlyra's crimson lightsaber came to life as she withdrew it from its holster. The Valkyries were not alone, Sith-Imperial Legionnaires, led by Blackblades and other Sith-loyal troops also emerged from the tunnel, the battle was now at hand.
Being the Goran, who crafted the hulking Infernal Armour, Kaine was privy to the ability to retract her helm. The kiss shattered her inner boundaries, eradicating the resolve she had to distract and battle just enough…
… just enough to save as many lives as she could. Hers belonged at the altar to Kad Harang’ir, a fitting gift to the hellacious god, who returned her mother. Who gave Yasha the ability to survive 13 years in the Netherworld without knowing the taste of death’s sting.
“Gaakxi'i pi' sazi.” A taste which forever would linger in her mouth like her Kain’ik’s last kiss. The back of her crushgaunt brushed across Kaine's cheek, and she memorized the lines on his face. So many of them, compared to when they met, but... he was never a young man. Not to her. Goodbye, my love.
The clang of her spear drowned any attempt at thought, until Carnifex arrived. Under her buy’ce, Yasha’s face contorted into a gritted snarl. There the Dark Deceiver. The Butcher and malevolent patsy to his infinitely more dangerous uncle [member="Darth Prazutis"].
“Hhh-h” And the sting entered her heart, with a flood of venom from the man who desired dominion over all his eyes and skin desired.
“You let me go…” A stutter in her breath undulated upon the air in a nauseous spin of Mandalore’s gravity. Fingers loosened on the spear so lovingly crafted by Yasha’s riduur. Her Kain’ik.
“You let me go!” Echoes of rage filtered through the audio processors of the lupine buy’ce. Decades in Carnifex’s shadow, and unlike the warnings, those infinite drones from her family and companions to rid herself of the most dangerous ruler in the Galaxy…
… Kaine Zambrano let Yasha go. Once more, she was a twelve year old under Ra’s care looking up at a vicious but kindly face as Zambrano praised her use of Epicant.
Their mutual first tongue. She was the twenty year old, who armed with the truth that Carnifex raised [member="Ra Vizsla"] from the dead, challenged him to be off Mandalore, and shake her hand as an equal.
He shook her hand, easy in his honeyed speech and brought a son for her bed days later. Ancius died before Yasha could reject him. Years of holocomms, ruler to ruler, working through the contempt between Mandalorian and Sith. They brokered peace, when none would look upon Yasha with anything but utter disgust.
And at a nebulous shifting point, their names shifted from Mand’alor and Emperor to Yasha and Koemi. Horror and familiarity. In her rages, Yasha bashed his face to wet sand, and he threw her across fire and black iron. In his mercy… oh that mercy so few knew…
After Orinda, he scooped her into his arms, took her flower picking before the agony of rebuilding her shoulder and saving her life. How did one fight a man, who was simultaneously her greatest threat and her most stalwart confidante? How did a wolf kill a dragon, without her Pack?
“I was gone. Mand’alor no more, simply Yasha! Wife, mother and broodmare and you waited until I was clear of this place! You… you invidious villain… I had everything I ever wanted!!” Her alto voice echoed across marble and transparisteel, rasping in its’ horror.
“I have a family that love me!” The betrayal was not of Carnifex’s design.
The turncoat was Yasha, for laying her life at a monster’s twin blades.
“I held my wife and told her it was over! We would know peace! Our children didn’t have to bleed like I did! And you…” A horrified laugh pinged around stone pillars, frigid as the black waters under Kaas City. “… one word that you were attacking my beloved Manda’yaim and I sprinted right… here…”
Kaine Zambrano raised the double-bladed beskar weapon Yasha commissioned for him, as a gift of their political alliance. Her breath caught. Of course… Yes, of course he would bring that weapon to bear. That sign of trust once given. Had he broken that trust?
“… I can never be rid of you…” The spear stood vertical sentinel over the battle space. Yasha unlatched the weapon at her back, a slim double-bladed polearm familiar on site to the man who killed its’ owner.
Baiko’s weapon, which tasted his ferocity on Sabarene, the day Darth Carnifex crossed the Galaxy to comfort and salvage a terrified child. Reyn’s sister, Adara. Yasha readied her stance, one blade forward, one facing outward to her hip.
She lun-
“Reyn. Feth you for being your father's son.” Only her familiarity with battle kept Yasha’s attention on the looming menace in the room, instead of her own son. Dash him! Dash his fool’s bravery!
How like a young man to expect his mother needed assistance against a familiar foe. How like a man to refuse a woman her due… Yes, her beloved Ram’ika indeed grew up. He was a man. How long had Reyn worn armour so confidently? Hadn’t he only recently... watching her spirited first son swagger so confidently to stand at his mother’s side in battle crushed Yasha’s heart.
Ram’ika grew up, and in the pursuit of her Duty to a deceased [member="Ra Vizsla"], Yasha missed his childhood. Under her buy’ce, her face crashed. “Reyn this is ridiculous, don’t distract me or you’ll get the both of us killed!”
“Ram!” Tuulu lunged, wrapping his arms around the boy’s trunk and with his superior size, tried to pull the boy back. Away. Buy’ce close to Reyn’s, Tuulu whispered. “No, son. You’re too young to understand…”
His eyes flicked through the HUD as images of Carnifex in position to strike, cocking his head to the side. Restraint from the Dark Lord?
“Yasha’s got to be rid of him. He’s been part of her far too long. This isn’t our fight, she needs this.”
Yasha howled, blocking her son’s folly not from her actions, but her immediate thought. Reyn heard? He heard… no. Carnifex’s stance was hearty, his face resolute. She charged.
The Hell Wolf had no choice but to kill her longest friend, before he killed her firstborn son.
As Constantinius marched forth, the explosive round launched from Adenn's weapon struck his chestplate, missing it's intended mark by inches. He stumbled ever so slightly, but seemed otherwise unphased by the shot, his powered armour's beskar, salvaged from those warriors now shooting at him, easily absorbing the impact, while stray shots from Taru glanced his armour now and again. Constantinius responded, raising his gauntlet mounted weapon, unleashing a volley of heavy blaster fire towards Adenn's position.
While he carried out suppressive fire, he tracked the trajectory of the enemy fire using his tactical optics, and spoke over his command frequency to one of the nearby armoured columns presently assaulting Sundari with the rest of the Sith invasion army. "Armoured Column Tersius, lock onto these coordinates. I want whoever's shooting at me turned into dust.", Constantinius said calmly, despite the battle now raging around him. A group of tanks and walkers trained their main guns on Adenn's position, and began opening up a merciless volley of artillery fire.
