Playing With The Big Boys Now | TSE Invasion of TJE's Csilla Hex

[Er'in Tenel]

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(effecting)​

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Objective: It is a great, great grandmother of a storm, Muad'dib (Protect dropships, contribute to air superiority, make horrible rain).
Location: Csilla, in orbit (projecting Sith Sorcery into Csilla's atmosphere)
Allies: TSE - @Khonsu Amon | @Kaalia Pavanos
Enemies: TJE - (Engaging by proxy) [member="Kaine Australis"]
Equipment:Black Lotus (Lightsaber), Erin's Robes, Sith Amulet, Shadowclasp

The chamber aboard the ship was ruined, the backlash of the ritual having scorched clean through bulkheads, Er'in's preparations insufficient for a ritual of the magnitude she was attempting.

But she was alive.

Just.

She bled freely from the complex network of scars on her body, her breath coming in sobs of pain, her body held upright by willpower, pride and anger alone.

She was the storm. A free flowing dance of winds, of dark side energy, of lightning, of rain, hail, sleet and snow. Here a blizzard that descended to ground level to engluf a platoon of enemy troops, there a hailstorm slamming into a wing of enemy fighters.

Er'in tried to pull free, it was too much to bear. She was not ready for this yet. She could as easily lose her mind and soul as make any mark on the battle.

There was something passing through her. Something she could not see. Something sensed only barely through movement of winds and deflection of snowflakes.

She was not self-concious enough to intellectually recognise the words 'stealthed ship', but tactical instict told her it could be nothing else.

Besides, she had been brought into being to protect this world from interlopers like this. But she could not see it to stop it.

Rage ignited in her heart, finally intellectual reality came, and with it a strategy. You did not have to be able to see a ship to do it harm, if you were the weather.

All around The Scythe the sky erupted with lurid lighting, with hailstorm winds and sharp blizzards that swept the landing zone like storms of ice-knives.

Inside the chamber aboard the ship high above, a storm of hoarfrost and ice raged. Terrified crewmen seriously considered venting the entire region to space, claiming the new Sith had gone insane. But common sense prevailed, and blast doors slammed shut to seal off the area. The warding circle was failing fast with the power channeling through it, distance and effort making this far harder than it might have been if she were in close orbit above the planet.

 

[Shade of Decay]

Objective: Burn the heretic. Kill the apostate. Purge the unclean.
Location: Underground
Allies: [member="Azriel Mortii"] [member="Lark"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Necrin"] [member="Kao Xusros"] [member="Neoplix"]

Their wandering in the tunnels had continued longer than Tsisaar much enjoyed, though between himself and his two apprentices, they were able to find their way along. The Force was useful in many ways, and navigating through unfamiliar lands was one of those; no doubt, if they were but weak troops, they would still be wandering around, unable to find the city. Or anything else.

Yet, the trio had trudged along with purpose, knowing what their goal was. Soon, too, they had felt others, similar to themselves...though based on the area, each of them knew that those others were not their allies. So they had picked up their pace, moving towards those opponents they had felt, like wolves on the prowl. Hunting their prey.

Or, more accurately, hunting down the fools who thought to encroach on their territory, as the rightful Sith of the galaxy.

Lark, the warrior. Long-clawed and sharp-toothed, with his blades. Likely the most adept of all three at pure physical combat, stronger than the others.

Azriel, the pup. Untried, and untested, but still armed, both with a lightsaber and with the Force. This was his first hunt, and as with every other, the rule was the same. Kill or be killed.

Then came Tsisaar himself. The leader, the alpha. His lightsaber found itself in his hand, ready to be activated. Just as Lark rounded a corner, the scent of their prey nearly intoxicating through the Force, Tsisaar halted himself and slowed. His lightsaber activated, and he walked out, his tread measured and dignified.

His black eyes locked with the red pair of the Sith Lord who led the other pack, alive with an equal mixture of curiosity and hatred. There were a few soldiers as well, though their lives were insignificant compared to the true struggle that was soon to take place. Sith against Sith, purifying their order of the weak. Just as had been done for millenia. A holy sacrament of the Dark Side, that had been in practice since the days when the Sith were nothing more than a primitive species on a backwater world.

"And so the observance continues," he muttered to himself, stepping forward behind his two apprentices. The pale reddish glow of his blade contrasted, ghost-like, with the blood-red hue that the others' blades possessed; the shadows danced oddly in the ight, as Tsisaar's eyes split from Darth Necrin's and glanced over the rest of the space. Apprentices against apprentices, and masters against masters; insignificant soldiers who would be caught in the crossfire, their lives nothing more than a sacrifice to the strength of the Dark Side.

"Your names, before we begin," he commanded, speaking to the three Sith before himself and his apprentices. "If only to satisfy the formalities, for when Sith duel each other." And with that statement, he made it clear that no surrender would be allowed, or quarter given. There was only one outcome, in Tsisaar's mind, for this battle: the wholesale slaughter of the Jen'ari.

 

[Darth Bellum]

K O R _ V E X E N

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---

Planetside, Surface of Csilla
Forward Landing Zone, Assault Preparations

The development of a staging area on the planet had gone smoothly. While the local defensive structures were putting up a stalwart defense, there was no stopping the sheer number of transports and fighters swarming the atmosphere and making their way to the surface below. Casualties were about even for both sides, with Legion troops advancing on the arrays and anti-air installations being hammered by both combined artillery and heavy walker fire, though it was clear who was in the more favorable position once those were destroyed. Multiple ground commanders had made it to the surface of Csilla, carrying out various tasks such as penetrating the surface of the ice to create new entries into the cities or assaulting already established ones.

Vexen stood over the holotable as he watched the events occur across the battlefield. Sithspawn specialized in digging tunnels had been deployed and with their arrival a new set of orders from the General to his Legion as he spoke to his Lieutenant, " Prep strike teams to push through the tunnels once the Sithspawn waves have gone through and inform Colonel Zambrano as well as any other ground commanders that our forces are to converge on the capital city, Csaplar. Once we've broken through their defenses on the surface we can begin to move the battle beneath the ice and strike down those who stand against us. " Vexen's thoughts would be interrupted by the sound of blaster fire. The Sith General would step outside of his command tent to see a trooper in a spotters tower that had been set up fall out and hit the frozen ground dead, turning to see a few squads of enemy troopers making their way towards the area. Vexen would growl as he turned to his Lieutenant and ordered her to keep the base secure.

A crimson blade flashed to life, twirling in graceful and deliberate arcs as blaster fire was redirected into the ice, the armored figure of Kor Vexen having made a rare appearance in battle as a detachment of Jen'ari troops assaulted the forward landing zone. Behind the Sith General was a squad of Legionnaires, returning fire, unafraid of death knowing that their general would keep them protected. And protect them he did as blaster bolts froze midair in the area out of the reach of his saber, a powerful telekinetic wall having been projected to allow for the advancing troops to shuffle out of the way and resume their push. Vexen's vocoded voice boomed loud and clear as he swung his saber, deflecting a blaster bolt back into an enemy's chest to send them flying, " Push the enemy back. Show them what it means to fear the Imperial Legion. " Several large assault walkers began to stomp behind Vexen and his troops, providing cannon fire.

An enemy soldier would appear from behind a frozen pillar as the advancing Legion passed by, only for the enemy soldier to be grabbed roughly by the front of his chest plate and thrown over the shoulder of a Legion soldier to crash into the frozen wasteland. The enemy soldier was pinned with a boot to his chest as the trooper raised his rifle and mercilessly shot the soldier in the face before turning to resume the advance. It was a relentless and brutal sight to behold as the two opposing sides engaged one another in close quarters. Violent screams of agony and cries for help as blasters fired and sabers swung, body parts cut down to pieces and thrown about by explosions to stain the ice red with blood and tears.

It was a short but brutal engagement, certainly one of many to come. Troopers would begin to set up temporary fortifications in the area that they would hold until they were forced to pull back. Vexen would lower his saber as it flashed out of existence, raising up his left hand as a hologram of his trusted Lieutenant who was back at the established forward command center appeared in a ghostly blue. " General, our Emperor will be arriving on the planet shortly. " Vexen would look down at his hand as he gave a nod. " Inform our Emperor and apologize on my behalf that I could not greet his arrival in person. " The hologram would nod before saluting as it faded out of view, Vexen's gaze turning to the horizon.

= = =

Meanwhile. . .

A transport followed by a small escort of fighters flew across the surface, having been noticed by an enemy squadron who had peeled off to pursue them. Inside the dimly lit transport were twenty armored figures, bathed in red light. A static voice was heard over the radio, " Emergency beacon from a Saaraishash team has been picked up. Drop zone coming up in five min-. " The sentence was interrupted as a blast rocked the small transport from being hit. " Never mind that, hatch is opening up now. Get yourselves out there and make us proud. First round's on me when you all get back. " A flood of light would fill the interior of the transport followed by the rush of frigid cold air. A trail of smoke could be seen as well as enemy fighters in pursuit. The defacto captain of the group would step forward, taking one glance back at the nineteen other men and women clad in the same armor as her and gave a brief nod. She turned back to the open hatch as the faceplate moved and sealed itself, a series of glowing lights over where the eyes would be activating as she simply stepped out and free fell to the surface below.

The transport would pull up as the team dropped out, using the smoke it trailed as cover. The enemy fighters took after it just as the last of the team had jumped out. A few moments later the transport would explode in a fiery ball of twisted metal and smoke. Meanwhile, sailing through the skies of Csilla were twenty armored Dragoons that fell like rocks to the surface below. Altimeters in the Captain's helmet were rapidly declining as they approached the surface before the suit began to rotate in the air and micro adjust itself to prepare for impact. Three...Two...One...The suit smashed into the frozen surface, creating a crater, the suit's shock absorbers having taken the brunt of it. A fizzle and pop were heard as the shields crackled, completely drained and slow to recharge. A series of nineteen other impacts were heard, but all vitals read green across the board. The Dragoons' first jump was a success. A good sign so far.

The team would rapidly assemble before sprinting off at high speeds across the surface, using their jump jets to assist their mobility to reach the crash site in a few minutes despite having their transport shot down earlier than expected. They arrived with weapons leveled, searching the wreckage for any survivors. It wasn't a pretty sight, but if there were any survivors left, then the Dragoons would fill out their numbers and provide support on their mission.

[member="Kole Harper"] | [member="Djorn Bline"] | [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"]​

 

[Ahani Najwa-Zambrano]

Location: Csilla
Objective: Feth Australis.
Allies: TSE [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Darth Prazutis"] [member="Vandra Zambrano"] [member="Mythos"] @Er’in Tenel
Enemies: TJE [member="Kaine Australis"]

[media]https://youtu.be/WnAvNdVyJB0[/media]

The Mandalorians will never surrender. A bunch of metal cans lined in rows, sliding along rivulets of Csillan ice until I, chuckling I can hear their boots.

“Oohhh yesssss.” My muscle vibrate from digits to torso as the smell of it, that unholy scent wafts through the crystalline and chaotic air.

Pain. The resignation of men and women, who knew these breaths were their lungs’ last aria. Panting in the throb of their collective sensations, under my silver mask, I weep.

Claw at the spider silk coating my arms, protecting me from chill. Each step from silver boots crackled on the ice. The bioship was smacked from above, our Sith swarming the pitiful defence of too few warriors for the defensive force of this Jen’ari Empire.

“I am the Empress-Consort Ahani Zambrano. You are in my Emperor's way, and we will remove you..."

“Oh…” My cheek cranked to my left shoulder. I skittered across the ice as the Crownsguard protecting [member="Darth Carnifex"]’s wife shelter me from stray bolts and charging shots. Sith troopers follow the commands pursing from my throat.

Fire back. Destroy them.

“Oh I feel you.” A break in the void-field of Ysalamiri, and I recognize the texture of screaming pain. I recognize the timbre of it, the similitude of spirit to one I created and bled and screamed to bring into this world.

My son’s presence rests upon this Mandalorian commander.

Back and shoulders cracking as I roll each limb, storm raging round, my eyes close. I do not need them.

“Lesson one, little Manu. Solid foundation.” A silver boot raised up.

Slammed on the ground and my hands dug into the space between ground and shoulders. With a shriek, I rip open a vault of ice and stone, splitting the ground around these Mandalorian pebbles.

“RrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRGGGGAAAAAAAHHH!!!!” The bellow resounds in pinging echoes through the troops, who charge the Mandalorian line, as the ground beneath them crumbled.

“How many can I swallow, before you’d stopped screaming?”

Bodies fell into the crevasse.

I stomp upon the ground with my other foot. A glacial chunk of ice spanning the width of thirty men slams into the void, whence once were soldiers.

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Location: The surface above the Expeditionary Library
Allies: The Sith Empire [member="Ithnan Cryo"]
Enemies: The Jen'ari [member="Darth Soma"]

Equipment: In signature

"No," she replied through her comlink to her apprentice. The presence she had felt had still not arrived, and she was not going to wait for it any longer. If it wanted to come along to her objective, it could meet her down there. "When you arrive, follow the ice tunnel you will find."

Leaving the instructions that vague, Taeli started to draw upon her command of the dark side and the knowledge she had obtained from her fellow Triumvir in the art of watershaping. With a slow breath out, vapor appearing in the air, she started directing her will towards the ice in front of her. It started to shift and move, unfreezing and freezing as she shifted it aside and out, a divet appearing... then a shallow hole. It kept going as she slowly started to walk forward, gesturing with her arms as she did, making the hole length in one direction, the excess ice coming up and forming a lotus around her.

She had not chosen this spot for no reason after all.

Beneath the ice here was the Expeditionary Library of the Chiss, a repository of their knowledge about the Unknown Regions. A remote location by design, far from the frontlines of the battle, Taeli wanted to obtain some of the knowledge within here for her research purposes. Plus, securing it for their Chiss allies would further secure their alliance in case their adversaries tried to destroy the knowledge to deprive everyone of the information within. The forming tunnel lengthed, and she disappeared down into its depths, cycling her arms in a graceful pattern as she manipulated the ice away and around. It wouldn't take her long to reach the ceiling of the library.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

They moved forward like a well-oiled machine, step-lock battle formations parading down the deserted causeway leading into the city of Csaplar. The corpses of Sith-Imperials and heretics alike were strewn about the destruction, their blood freezing in the frigid temperatures of Csilla as blistering wind poured in through the smoldering openings above. Occasionally they would be harried by some stragglers, guerilla fighters that had been bypassed by the main thrust of the Sith army, but they amounted to very little.

It was clear by now that the Jen'ari were in disarray, but whether it was by his own diversion at Cormit or Commander [member="Thorne"]'s own insurgency that led to their fractured state had yet to be determined. What was evident was that the Empire's assault was gaining traction, landfall had been made and the capital city; the heart and soul of the Chiss Ascendancy, was under total siege.

Emperor Carnifex led this renewed charge, standing at the head of his mighty host as it neared the front lines of the battle. A blade of brilliant sunfire extended from his right hand, blocking and redirecting blaster bolts aimed his way from the enemy lines. His very presence reinvigorated the attackers, driving them to launch attack after attack with greater drive and ferocity. With the Blackblades at his back and the valiant Legionnaires of the Imperial Legion on his flanks, the Emperor launched himself into the most heavily defended section of the enemy lines.

Lightning flung freely from his left hand, snaking along enemy soldiers in an electrifying chain that left them smoldering corpses once the energy had subsided. With his right hand, the Emperor cut down Jen'ari troopers and heretical Sith alike, carving a path through enemy lines while the soldiers that followed him stabilized and held those gains.

But as the battle continued to wax and wane all along the front, a massive explosion rippled across the icy roof above the city as a tumultuous boom washed over every combatant. Down came the same ramship that had damaged the Behemoth up in orbit, and as it slammed into the city proper a massive explosion consumed roughly three square kilometers of the cityscape in an instant. Skyscrapers lost their stability and tumbled down into the molten crater, shards of ice larger than star cruisers collapsing down to crush entire neighborhoods and kick up clouds of dust and debris.

"Push forward! The enemy falters, Csilla will soon be ours!"

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Kor Vexen"] | [member="Kaine Australis"]​

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

to​

Location: Csilla, burrowing into tunnels leading to Csaplar. Formerly: Phi-class dropship from Daena-class Assault Carrier.
Objective: WAR! Attack Csaplar with an army of sithspawn.
Equipment:

Spoiler

Imperator’s Raiment, Zaudraka, Spear, SIF-7 Minos,

[member="Tehkyram"] [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Khonsu Amon"] @ Jen'ari Defenders

A message ticked into Joycelyn’s ear from her commanders, updates from the battle. Some of the updates were fairly redundant, but there were a few messages she had waited for, and now one of them hit her ear: ‘Colonel Zambrano, the 654th is reporting contact with the enemy, a forcer.’ Her eyes closed as she exhaled and reaffirmed her grip on her weapon. Her shoulders tensed and untensed. She had hoped it would not come to this; to choose between her Empire and the lives of her men.

She looked to the artillery, the dropships, and the army funnelling down into the large tunnels. Her lips turned half into to a frown as she weighed the costs and benefits of the options she had in front of her. Either she neglected the lives of the 654th and focused on advancing on the city, or she handed reins of the advance to her second in command and faced the heretic. Did she assail the city and ignore her enemy’s counterattack, or did she sign away the glory of taking Csaplar for the protection of her troops? Glory yes, but also responsibility. She was responsible for the warbeasts' attack on Csaplar.

Two sides were in intense debate within her.

“Have the 654th withdraw to a defensive position. They will have to hold out until reinforcements arrive.”

She was not just Sith, but Sith-Imperial; she was the Emperor’s daughter, a Colonel of the Imperial Legion, Darth Vornskr the Second, Sword of Vahl. She could not break off an assault on account of a few losses. This was a moment of victory, and while she could not- would not be distracted. Just as her mind steeled itself, she received General [member="Kor Vexen"]’s orders to commence with the assault on the city.

‘Colonel Zambrano, proceed with the attack on Csaplar.’.

Joycelyn closed the visor of her helmet and turned away from Tehkyram. This was where her legionnaires most needed her, not rescuing a handful of men from one opponent. Her burrowing sithspawn would be breaking through any moment, and the second wave was ready to attack. Even the Hyal’hask were now filtering into the tunnels for the gruesome finale.

“Major Yaitzun, report to the general: We are breaking through and commencing assault on Csaplar.” "Have the second wave brought up to full speed and prepare the third wave. We have no time to lose.”

Yaitzun nodded quickly as he relayed the orders and had one of his lieutenants request reinforcements for the 654th.

Down in the tunnels, the first wave of burrowing sithspawn finally etched their way through the tunnels and into the city of Csaplar itself. Hundreds of drooling, insectoid sithspawn burst through the corroding metal and burrowed up from the frozen ground, which crumbled under their spiked legs. But the Blighters and Festerers were not only good for tunnelling.

The larger sithspawn, the Festerers, trampled over their smaller co-burrowers with scythe-like claws, and vomited splashes of highly corrosive acid at the enemies standing near or coming to face. Their hard carapace turned weapons away while they ripped whomever they overtook into a bloodied mess. Meanwhile, the Kissai acolytes controlled the Blighters to expand the tunnels for what came next.

Further up the tunnel, the second wave of larger sithspawn were picking up speed. Their monstrous legs made the frozen ground tremble. The Ravagers and Guzijeji tore through the tightest sections of tunnel, widening them to accommodate their enormous size, while the Behemoths pressed their way through at the end. Behind them, the path would be ready for an army and their machines. The closer the second wave came to Csaplar, the faster they ran, and the more intensely the ground quaked under their advance. They almost caught up with the first wave, and soon after the city was breached, the second wave arrived with a thunderous crack and mighty roars.

Monsters assailed the city en masse.

Behind the second wave, Joycelyn was now leading the third wave, a small army of Hyal’hask, down toward the city. Vicious, brutal, but far less clumsy than the giant monsters, the Graug-Eldorai hybrids had exactly the cunning and cruelty Joycelyn looked for in an army. While they carried weapons of contemporary standard, one in each squad also carried with them a long metal pike, crude, but sharp, not unlike the kind of pole on which one would carry a flag.

In the wake of the second wave, their descent was fairly swift. They had wide tunnels, cleared by the monsters that went before them.

Spoiler

The Sithspawn Hordes:
Wave 1:
Blighter
Festerer
Wave 2:
Guzijeji
Behemoth
Ravager
Wave 3:
Hyal’hask

 

[Iasha Rha]

The 654th, under attack by [member="Nyx Tempest"]

The life of a legionnaire was not easy, but SL2222 had a knack for it.

The descent of their ship had been rocky, but he had not died. Their landing had been rough, but he still stood. Now, just when he thought he was about to get into the easier part of the job, SL2222 was faced with the worst possible enemy he could have imagined; red lightsabre, fierce look in her eye, black clothing and strange tattoos? His enemy was a Sith.

He had specifically joined the Sith Empire not to have to fight them, yet there he was. Blaster bolts were batted back and the mirialan legionnaire jumped out of the way as it rocketed through his prior position. His comrades appeared to have some control over the situation at the moment, but he had fought forcers before: They were tricky at a distance and practically invincible in close quarters.

His Sergeant stopped, touched his helm, then started waving for a controlled retreat, and the whole squad began backing toward the Phis. Kir knew what it was: They had to hold out on their own for a while. With the planetary defences the way they were, reinforcements were difficult to land with precision. He understood, but cursed it under his breath anyway. Crawling through the snow, SL2222 checked himself for anything that could be useful when his elbow hit something foreign to himself: A weapon that had fallen out of a hand after a returned blaster bolt shot Liuentenant TL3211 in the neck.

The weapon around which Kir Barbazu curled his hand was an officer's particle beam blaster, the SIF-7 Minos.

Afraid as he was, the legionnaire picked up the weapon and rolled up into a crouch, then aimed. With his thumb he clicked the weapon into burst fire mode and squeezed the trigger: Two shots of highly explosive particle energy rocketed at the Sith as SL2222 tried to work with the intense recoil. Despite the kickback, his considerable marksmanship made his aim true.

 

[Darth Necrin]

Location: tunnels under Csilla's Surface
Allies: [member="Kao Xusros"] [member="Neoplix"]
Enemies: [member="Tsisaar Taral"] [member="Azriel Mortii"] [member="Lark"]

The sith he had felt rounded the corner, and came into sight. Three sith, one more powerful than the other two. Just like him and his allies. Necrin locked eyes With the leader of these invaders, and he could see what he himself felt: anger, hatred, the emotions of sith. A shame they didn't follow the same empire. Now, they had to die.

The leader of the other Group stepped forward, and Necrin did the same. Not to show respect, but to show that he wouldn't back Down. This fight could be suicide; the tunnels weren't big, and certainly not made for combat. But it would have to make due. The other sith could not be allowed to leave. The other leader thought the same as Necrin, leader against leader and Apprentice against Apprentice. Necrin looked behind, at the troopers that was there. He motioned for them to leave, there was nothing they could do, and their lives needn't be wasted. Then, his attention turned back to their enemies.

"You are in no position to demand Our names. But I will tell mine, so you kow who will be Your bane. I am Darth Necrin, Dark Councillor of Ancient Knowledge, known to the chiss as Jron'adak'tetti." The Apprentices would have to decide themselves if they would tell their names. "I expect you plan on telling Yours, as you were the one asking."

When the duel started, Necrin was fast to start shooting Lightning at the other leader. He would try to keep this fight mostly in the use of the force. Hopefully, it wouldn't be dragged out. That could be fatal. But in the start, he planned on trying to analyse the Three oponents, at least to some extent. One thing he was sure of though, was that this could be one of his tougher fights. Jedi and testing of acolytes couldn't compare to a real fight between sith.

 

[Ahani Najwa-Zambrano]

Location: Csilla
Objective: Feth Australis.
Allies: TSE [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Darth Prazutis"] [member="Vandra Zambrano"] [member="Mythos"] @Er’in Tenel
Enemies: TJE [member="Kaine Australis"]

Bodies turned to dust. The slam of ice impacted the ground, vibrating with the throng of soldiers tossing into each other. Mandalorians soak in with Sith soldiers, muddying the waters.

Bloody sacks of bile-filled waters, each and every soldier. Droplets of water covered in skin and armour, until the ‘other’ bled it out. The Commander, he who screamed, for the scream is written on him. A writhing, terrifying congregation of pain and horror radiated off him, the echoes of his breaking body.

[member="Darth Carnifex"] thundered onward, taking to the City, even as the blast from [member="Mythos"]’ fire destroyed great swathes unimpeded. A great death slunk into the fabric of Csilla, forever to remain as the house of the beast, which slayed the Behemoth.

It had a name… in death, I could taste it on my tongue. Feel the name in my bones, as it writhed and screamed without sonic output. Feeding Darth Gyaumchem, she who defeated ships by ripping apart the stars.

Throwing my right arm up, I create a shield of impervious energy, which refuses singularly to allow such ignoble chatter-fire of the Mandalorian spewing ingots to penetrate. Heavy slugthrower fire zooms through the fringes of my shield.

“Oh. These Buckets don’t use blasters! Whoops!” My right leg buckled at the thigh, red staining the spidersilk and cortosis of my armour. Strong against blasters, invincible against lightsabers… apparently terrible via Bucket.

My crimson-clad guards advance, as Legionnaries produce shields to protect their Empress. The crimson guards are the best soldiers my husband has ever produced. I tie off my thigh wound. Stand on a leg wafting with pain, which grounds me.

The commander, who smells like my son was ahead of me and rapid in his assault forward. A man with death on his conscience. Lifting my hands, I yank vast chunks of ice the size of speeders from the Csillan debris, and vault them at this Mandalorian.

I need not speak to my crimson guardsmen, nor to my soldiers. They have their targets, and although the sith soldiers are taking heavy fire, holing down behind blocks of ice, my desire is forward.

It burns to stomp my foot, raise quivering hands delighted by the chaos around me, and sections of the Csillan crust lift to create no more a straight battlefield, where lucky shots destroyed units, but a veritable maze to trap and create in its’ stead, brutal dog-fights with nooks and crannies in which to hide.

“Come on, come on, come on, come on, come ON! COME GET ME, HUTUUN!!” I limp-run, hand slipping along shards of ice for balance, and rush the Mandalorian.

 

[Ahani Najwa-Zambrano]

Location: Csilla
Objective: Feth Australis.
Allies: TSE [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Darth Prazutis"] [member="Vandra Zambrano"] [member="Mythos"] @Er’in Tenel
Enemies: TJE [member="Kaine Australis"]

The roar of the din dissipates for the wills and barking yips of lesser beings. Across the ice floes, the Force expands and contracts around this curious defender. A man whose tactics had clear disregard for the Chiss, and the Jen’ari alike.

My crimson guards break to destroy these nine Mandalorians, the best protectors of royalty my husband’s many vassals produced, who have no identity beyond the assurance that no Emperor, nor Empress, nor Prince or Princess would perish while they stood. I pull my vibrostave from its’ holster on my back.

And the Force moves.

Two darts of lethal quality. A punctured vein. Gasping death, widowing the Dark Lord twice...

The vision shatters my confidence in position. As the supersonic shots rocket in, my body twists. They pass into the throng of soldiers behind. My stave poised in my left hand, ready along my back to strike, I raise a hand and create darts of my own.

Kinetite, veering into the space where Australis’ velocity should take him, is my opening prize.

Whether they strike or no, I grin beneath my mask and dig in my feet. Let him come to me. Let him bring the inevitable collision.

Our weapons lock. The shockwave of our collide levels a twenty meter radius with an outpouring of something I did not expect. Light versus Dark.

Flashes of foresight echo, unconvinced hummingbirds shunting into and out of my mind.

A woman’s screams in the Dark. Pitch black water. Death eternal doled out and taken away. A broken body falling to a hillside. Caught up. Protected. The tender caress of a lover. Amber eyes. Kneeling arms akimbo, begging for the Boar’s life. Twins. Rivers of pitch... black... water.

A loose cackle punctuates the air round us. The Force strengthens my body, and I punch at the left shoulder joint of his armour. Through the Force, it is likely he too saw the images in my mind. Pain without context. Links between this Mandalorian and my path.

 

[Tehkyram]

Objective: Total extermination.
Allies: [member=Joycelyn Zambrano]
Equipment: Lightsaber, Slayerskin, Deathfang

"Understood." Tehkyram followed Joycelyn's instructions, staying back and watching as the death machines he had been assigned to chaperone began their deadly business. While the Sithspawn had went around Csaplar's door, the heavier guns would have to go through. The first wave hung back as the rocket artillery pounded away at the heavy defenses with bunker busters, creating structural weaknesses that the mass drivers would exploit. In no time at all the barrier was broken, and the true battle could begin.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wTup5mT4O-Q​

​

Tehkyram smiled as he felt the ground rock beneath him. The release of slaughter was coming. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel the vibrations of war.

​

The armor advanced first, spewing forth heavy ordinance into defenders that had been caught off-guard by the Sithspawn attack on their flank. It was a substantial easy rout, as the defenders were forced into a fighting retreat. The armored spearhead advanced as the infantry followed, helping defend the gap between the armor and the artillery. And of course, the artillery followed Burst Command Delta-Zero with perfect efficiency, indiscriminately spewing death across all of Csaplar. The column stayed tight and focused as it advanced, aiming to march right to the core of the city and scatter the defenders into isolated pockets of resistance. So far, they were accomplishing that goal wonderfully.

Tehkyram almost glided as he followed Joycelyn. "Can you feel it, my lady?" he asked, his harsh voice somehow dripping with rapturous pleasure. "Csaplar is burning. Csilla is burning. The world itself is dying on the inside, and we are the ones killing it. Every single quake of the ground is a tortured scream of the planet being ravaged. The majestic horror beneath our feet unfolds one light extinguished at a time. Isn't it just absolutely wonderful? Is this not the greatest pleasure of existence?"

 

[Ithnan Cryo]

Location: Above the Expeditionary Library
Allies: [member="Taeli Raaf"] , TSE
Enemies: TJE and Allies

" I am closing on your position now my Lady." cutting the communication line Ithnan would direct his attention back to the skies around him. The battlefront was quieter around this area and the sounds of war were few and far between. He was still clueless as to what his master had planned but trusted that every move she made carried a purpose to an ultimate goal. Trust was something to be earned but even then he had hoped to get some idea of what he had been called upon for. News of legion movements and resistance points were still being relayed over the broad scale communication lines attesting to the fortitude the Jenari were putting into pushing them back. It was a meaningless attempt but a respectable one none the less. Were their leadership not cocky and bold then the great soldiers dying could've been put to far better use under the rightful banners of the Sith and the Empire.

"You are all to reinforce the push to the capital. Urian, you are to lead them while I am away. I expect all of you to be alive when this is all over." The legionnaires gave a sound of acknowledgment as Ithnan walked past them to the ramp. A majority of these men he had met during the Battle and Occupation of Commenor. His small promotion had left them under his charge after reinstallment of the CSA. They hadn't disappointed him yet when it came to discipline and execution so he held great interest in their lives.

With graceful landing and closing shake, the transport touched down onto the location. His master was nowhere in sight so the only explanation was she had gone ahead in the tunnel a short distance away. Stepping onto the fresh snow he signaled for the transport to take off. The tunnel seemed out of place in comparison to the empty landscape but he saw no reason to question it more. He had been given simple instructions.

"I am making my way now master" With that, he made his way in [member="Taeli Raaf"] footsteps deeper into the world of Csilla.

 

[Darth Vyrassu]

Enemies: TSE

Objective: The Showdown Carnifex vs Vyrassu


Darth Vyrassu watches over the battle from an unknown location. Noticing [member="Darth Carnifex"] has reached the ground brought pleasure to Carnifex. But would this be the right time to finally come out and attack Vyrassu, only one way to find out. Vyrassu continued watching the battle wage on, TSE in the tunnels. Various ships destroyed on both sides.

Vyrassu rose from his seat and begun his walk out of the chamber where he sat. His destination was Carnifex. [member="Kaine Australis"] was as well charging Carnifex. Vyrassu reached the end of the structure he was hidden in and stood along side his Sith troopers, HK assassin Droid army and the Nyeklas Squad. Vyrassu saw the TSE forces marching towards him and his army. Among the TSE forces he saw him. Carnifex.

Carnifex is mine, kill everything else.

The Commanders of each squad nodded all saying Yes my emperor

Vyrassu reaches down to his belt and grabs his double bladed lightsaber hilt. Vyrassu spins it around activating it. On both ends of the hilt the red blades illuminate the area. Vyrassu uses his free hand raising it. 8 Dark purple and black clouds of Smokey mist appear 8 Vyrassu's. Vyrassu begins glowing a dark red metallic with black smoke like stems emitting from his body. Vyrassu's eyes go completely black. Vyrassu marches forward focusing his energy on the darkside and his anger to fuel him for the upcoming fight. This was it.

Vyrassu awaited Carnifex to make the first move. Vyrassu knew this battle would be more than just physical, both men were sorcerers, both were highly skilled in combat. Question was, would this end in stalemate as Vyrassu assumed, or would both die here and now? Vyrassu wouldn't be dying, possibly defeated but not dead.

Vyrassu stood confident with his
Signature Dark Lord Armor,
Alchemised Mask, and his
Custom Lightsaber. Vyrassu was ready, most force powers wouldn't work on Vyrassu, his lightsaber nearly indestructible, his mask enhancing all his abilities and as well nearly indestructible. Vyrassu wasn't going to let down his Empire nor the Actual Chiss Ascendancy and the peace treaty to protect them from the enemy Empire. But this was Vyrassu's purpose, here and now, Emperor vs Emperor.

Vyrassu kept his mind clear of all things outside of designing in his head a way to defeat Carnifex. Vyrassu gripped his saber tight ready to defend himself from physical attacks, his focus on point to defend from all force and sorcerer and magic attacks, but which would Carnifex use first, whatever it would be, Vyrassu would be ready. Vyrassu's forces would take care of all other TSE members to make sure Vyrassu got a 1 on 1 fair combat against Carnifex. Even if anyone did get involved Vyrassu would just force repulse them away. Vyrassu looked calm, standing strong and ready awaiting.

​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Another heretic fell at his feet, riven in twain.

Crimson saber fell loosely at his side, the mechanism in his helmet enhancing his vision as he scanned the battlefield for a new target. His forces were making respectable gains, albeit their push was now being met with sterner resistance than during their journey into the city. Perhaps the heretics had, at last, shorn up the divisions among their ranks and sallied forth to meet the arbiters of their destruction. Or perhaps he had the fortune of running into one of the more well-organized groups, but whatever the reason it mattered very little to the Sith Emperor.

A new challenger had arrived.

Oh, truth be told he'd been here all along. But only now as the Empire swept over the world did he appear, a tactic that the reigning Dark Lord of the Sith questioned. Still, what better opportunity presented itself now than the snake's head being presented to him on a silver platter. A raised hand halted the Blackblade's advance, the obedient dark armored soldiers taking up defensive positions behind rubble and prefabricated barricades as the Emperor continued on.

A pair of Kissai dressed in ceremonial garb accompanied him, each of them carrying a sheathed sword in their hands. Carnifex's lightsaber fell silent as he relinquished both to these adjutants, replacing them with both swords which flew out of their ornate scabbards and landed in both of his outstretched hands. One of these blades was Selaphiel, the Blade of Kings. Forged for the Sith Emperor by the hand of Darth Maliphant, its alchemized Impervium blade was imbued with the Dark Side of the Force and hummed with a voracious hunger for blood. The other was Derriphan, sister-sword to the wicked blade Daesumnor. It likewise exuded a voracious appetite for carnage, but its tastes were of a more spiritual sort.

The Emperor walked out within clear eye-sight of his foe but deigned to not make the first move. Instead, he stood impassively in his dark armor with both of his wicked blades in hand.

Waiting for the challenge to begin.

[member="Darth Vyrassu"]​

 

[Taru Cadera]

Post: 3

Allies: TJE [member="Darth Necrin"] [member="Neoplix"]

Enemies: TSE @Azriel Mortii [member="Tsisaar Taral"] [member="Lark"]

Location: Ice Tunnels
____________________________________________________________________________

Kao followed Darth Necrin through the tunnels, coming across one Neoplix, an apprentice like Kao. Helping Neoplix get rid off the confused and startled enemy troopers, they continued on after Darth Necrin. Up a tunnel, to the right, take two lefts and then a pause. In front of Kao, Darth Necrin had ignited his lightsaber, so Kao did too. He took both of his sabers off of his belt, and proceeded to hide one in the palm of his left hand and to ignite the other. Its bronze blade ignited beautifully, giving the tunnels a different color to illuminate than red.

Out of the tunnel of which Kao and his allies were facing strode three enemy "sith". One of greater power than the others, stronger too, than Kao. Both sides giving a sense of formality with the sharing of names, Kao decided to also give his. "I am Xusros. Kao Xusros." He said, his voice showing no emotion but his mind seething with hatred, these enemies were not worthy of any such formality!

With the end of formalities, both parties had basically rushed each other, with Kao quickly stepping towards the one who called himself [member="Azriel Mortii"] . He proceeded to jump towards the Azriel, spinning mid-air. While doing so, he ignited his second blade abruptly to finish off the whirlwind attack. Both blades inching closer and closer towards their intended target's chest. One other thing which he managed to pull of was a subtle Force Push at his enemy's saber, all in an attempt to push it away from the semi-defensive position in which it was held.

 

[Matt the Radar Tech]

CSILLA

---

Location: Outskirts of Csaplar.
Objective: Ensure the removal of Jen'ari forces on Csilla.
Allies: The Sith Empire & allies.
Enemies: Jen'ari Empire & allies.​

Selfishness leads to folly.​

​

"Sir? Sir, can you hear me?"

Mitth'orn'eruod opened red eyes, blinking.

"Admiral, we've crashed, and the capital is a battlefield."

Mitth'orn'eruod wiped at his brow, the hand slick with wet after the motion. Blood.

"We've suffered casualties from the shuttle impact. The pilot died on impact, but he saved us from the brunt of it."

Mitth'orn'eruod looked at the helmeted visage of the Chiss Commando standing over him, clearly the individual speaking. It took several seconds for the Admiral to right himself, his awareness of the situation dawning. The shuttle was a mess, debris and small flames scattered most of the interior, as well as a number of dead bodies. The commandos had certainly taken a hit to their numbers, with at least four killed in action.

"Understood, Sergeant," Mitth'orn'eruod said in a ragged voice, wiping at the blood that dripped down his forehead again. "Tend to your men, I believe I'm able to stand."

"Yessir," The commando nodded, before moving away to assist with the rest of the squadron.

Unclasping the harness of his chair, Mitth'orn'eruod slowly moved to his feet. He planted a gloved hand on the bulkhead, steadying himself, before he took stock of the situation. True to the Sergeant's words, the front of the shuttle was crumpled, the metal warped and smashed inward. Chances of even finding the pilot's body were slim. The other commandos had retrieved their wounded and dead, having taken them out of the shuttle exit to a safer location nearby. Mitth'orn'eruod decided that was a prudent course of action and began moving that direction, grimacing as he compensated for his suddenly weakened right knee, limping.

"Once you've assessed the injured and treated them, we will make our way to Csaplar, commandos, there's no point in launching my fleet at this venture," Mitth'orn'eruod said as he reached the makeshift treatment point. "Take your time, the Sith forces are engaged by the looks of it. We'll use that confusion to reach House Palace."

The commandos continued, wrapping bandages and applying bacta patches as needed. Mitth'orn'eruod looked toward the distant capital, hearing the echoes from the battle. Explosions, weapons fire, monstrous shouts and flashing lights all played across the distant cityscape. Being here, midway between the capital and the CEDF base, the Admiral couldn't help but feel disconnected from what was happening. Perhaps it was the wound to his head, but Mitth'orn'eruod seemed like an outsider, observing, staring in through a window to a shadow play of monsters in some holovid...

It doesn't matter. It's about to become very real soon enough, especially for the ruling houses who are responsible for this.

* * *​

​

Sometime later, the group of Chiss Commandos followed Mitth'orn'eruod. Together they trekked back toward Csaplar, various wounds tended and repairs to armor completed. It took them a short while, especially with Mitth'orn'eruod's limp, but they were close enough to begin making out details of the combatants. Mitth'orn'eruod pulled the charric pistol from his holster, while several commandos activated their fractal camouflage, shimmering from view.

"We push for House Palace. We're too close to fail now."

With determination, they pushed forward, entering the edges of the capital and engaging the enemy in the streets, as they fought - and avoided - obstacles as they could...

 

[Shade of Decay]

Location: Tunnels
Objective: Destroy
Allies: [member="Azriel Mortii"] [member="Lark"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Necrin"] [member="Kao Xusros"] [member="Neoplix"]

Tsisaar smiled beneath his tendrils at the other Sith's opening remark. The arrogance was unbecoming, the titles empty and meaningless, without any demonstration of power to back them up. Moreover, Tsisaar doubted that any such proper show of power would come. The ranks conferred by the watered-down heretics likely were as weak and powerless as their empire was.

What Tsisaar did respect, however, was the defiance that came with the arrogance. That was good; proof, at the least, that these wretches still followed the Dark Side to some extent.

"I am named Tsisaar Taral," he replied simply. "And your empty threats do not impress me."

He barely registered, at the edges of his perception, as the enemy troops turned and fled back down the tunnels. It was wise of them to do so; it would be pointless to throw their lives away just to spectate. As he drew the Force into himself, however, preparing to seize control of it to attack his enemy, Necrin preceded him.

As the lightning arced across the space, Tsisaar whipped his lightsaber into position to catch it. He used the Force to guide any stray bolts in towards his blade as well, the forking blue energy dissipating harmlessly into the magnetic field that gave the lightsaber its shape. The sound of it echoed through the tunnel for a few moments, as Tsisaar leveled the point of his blade back in Necrin's direction.

One hand raised itself, and all the others could feel Tsisaar exerting his own control over the Force. The result, however, was not immediately visible; off where the troops had begun to retreat, there were some who had lagged behind, relative neophytes whose curiosity was overwhelming their self preservation. Unfortunate, for them; one found his neck snapped, and he dropped instantly. His rifle, however, remained airborne, turning slightly as it seemingly aimed itself.

Less than a heartbeat later, Tsisaar closed his fist; with a loud report, a salvo of bolts began to fly down the tunnel, all aimed for Darth Necrin's unprotected backside.

 

[Neoplix]

Neoplix didn’t bother to introduce himself. As the trio came into sight, he picked his target and opened fire, his rifle on full automatic, and his massive arms holding the rifle, preventing the recoil from affecting his aim. He synchros his HUD in his target, in order to maintain near-perfect aim, and began advancing slowly, continuing to fire.

He was, of course, unsure who his opponent was, and who the others were in the sith empire strike team. But he knew one thing: his only option was victory. Even if he had to rip the trio apart limb from limb, on his own, he would do so. He served the jenari empire now, and those who stood in his way, former ally or not, would fall.

He continued walking forward, following [member="Lark"] with his rifle, until it clicked empty. He released it, allowing it to magnetically slot into his back, and ran forward, massive sith alchemical sword aimed go impale his foe in the stomach if he had the chance.

 

[LT-137]

Aboard the GCV “Xanthus.”
Spyridon - Class Astral Catamaran.
Csilla System.

Taskforce Myrmidon​

Bathed in the licking flames of atmospheric fire, the ‘Xanthus’ began its descent through the frozen heavens of Csilla. The vessel’s deflector shielding crackled and shimmered as the bulbous craft punched through the frost-flecked clouds. Its path was cleared from obstructions that previously denied them access to the planet; most notably the planet-encompassing barrier and it’s aerial defence network. While the latter still chattered away, splashing dozens of starships with every passing moment, the former flickered and failed in a glorious display of impeccable timing. Through various methods employed by the combined might of the Sith Empire, the projected barrier dematerialized into thin air -- flaking away like smouldering ash caught in the wind. The aerial defence network, on the other hand, posed its own set of difficulties. With several, smaller laser turrets seeking to deny the Sith Empire of their rightful mastery over the skies; their larger batteries began to focus on the assault ships.

With the tendrils of atmospheric fire no longer clinging to the Xanthus, the Carrier was bathed instead by the superheated fire belched forth by the metallic towers below. The descending starship endured volley, after volley of plasmatic cannonade with relative ease; flickering in response to the incurred violence. They held. Despite the ferocity that was thrown at them, the Carrier’s barrier held. It wasn’t until the capacitors began to show signs of failure that the Command Crew sought to do something about their situation. They believed themselves to be safe within their gilded warship - so why bother putting any effort into slapping away a grating gnat? However, that soon changed as more and more towers began to focus on their uninvited presence. So, in response, the Command Deck began stretching out with their targeting sensors; scouring the points of origin from whence they took fire.

In the span of seconds, the crew had their desired data. With the numbers figuratively crunched and subsequently uploaded, the Xanthus’ limited array of weapons began ratcheting into their respective places. The process was complete within a matter of heartbeats, but what came after caused several hearts to flutter - before being utterly silenced for all of eternity. With the three twinned turrets sweeping into position and accruing lethality, the integrated mass-drivers acted first - discharging their ferromagnetic slugs with ruthless precision moments after their accelerator coils retracted. Towering masses of durasteel and circuitry were torn asunder by the impact of the magnetically accelerated munitions, which showered the surrounding tundra with fire and molten slag. It wasn’t long after, that such glorious destruction was visited upon other towers by the solarized weapons.

Lances of ochre energy speared outwards from the gilded warship, tearing through the metallic flesh that clad each defensive structure like it never existed. The interconnected plates of durasteel melted inwards and seemingly evaporated, which in turn compromised the entirety of the tower’s structural integrity. Within the span of minutes, a surface installation was entirely deprived of its aerial defences -- leaving the hostile forces on the planet open to unopposed reprisal. Yet, instead of bathing the mixture of Jen’ari soldiers and their Chiss puppets with solarized fire, the Xanthus merely carried on with the devastation to ensure their dominion over this portion of the planet. That glory was reserved for another. As the Carrier began firing salvo after salvo into the surface installation, destroying more and more of the integrated emplacements, it’s deployment hangars slowly drifted open.

​

His fingers tensed with anticipation, as his HUD bore witness to the hangar bay’s curtain retracting back into its housing. The false-firelight before his eyes told him that the air beyond the withdrawing maw was freezing; that he would need to adapt his armour’s systems to survive in the cold. With nothing more than a thought, Khonsu pulsed the desire into the depths of his augmented brain and watched as the armour modified the internalized environment. There was a slight growl that escaped his lips, as the warmed air ran across his heavily scarred, and still puckering flesh. It was nothing more than an irritant, but it was enough to draw his eyes away from the ever-expanding portal caught in winter’s embrace. At that moment, the integrated droid brain within his armour saw fit to run a systems check - seeing that there were some irregularities in its master's brain waves. Feeling this unwarranted intrusion, Khonsu snapped back to reality and waved away any queries his augmented mind conjured. There was little time for such distractions, especially with the horns of war calling them to battle.

Instead, the Mercenary Lord focused on his rising desire to sally forth into the fray. While the Sith Empire was paying for every Jen’ari Skull that they collected on the field, Khonsu found uncharacteristically eschewed the immeasurable number of credits they’d throw his way. The man alone was capable of buying the entirety of a small moon and still have enough capital to relish the sweet life until he perished. It would be a business venture for the others - as they weren’t as lucky as he was - but for the Twisuns Praetor? Well, it was more about the pleasure of slaughtering the chattel. To emphasize this point, the Sun Guard thumbed the activation plate of his Force Lance, and let a predatory smile peel across his lips as the disruptor field crackled to life. He’d leave nothing but ashes in his wake and laugh, as those that stood before him were either deconstructed or torn asunder by their thunderous advance. No amount of credits would be worth the true, and savage delight that the Thyrsian craved. These False Prophets, and Religious Heretics, as the Sith Regime labelled them would be given no quarter. Any and all that stood with them would be slaughtered without hesitation.

No pity. No remorse.​

Without speeches or words of valiant praise, Khonsu slammed his golden-shod boot downwards - after throttling the accelerator - and shot out of the hangar bay like a nightmarish creature; clad in the armour of angels. He didn’t turn his head, nor toss his gaze under his shoulder, to see if his comrades followed for he already knew the answer. They were hungry, just as he was, and they followed after their commander. Like their Praetor, they soared on the crisp atmospherics of their anti-gravitic plates and plunged towards the surface of Csilla like a gilded murder of metallic crows.

Under the cover of the Xanthus’ exotic weaponry, the aureate warriors gracefully swopped across the tundra in a loosely cohesive formation that partially resembled a spear. It wasn’t perfect, but in truth, it didn’t need to be. Their charge towards the ruined installation would be even deadlier now that it wasn’t truly a disciplined arrowhead, as there was more room to maneuver and swing their deadly Force Lances if required. Khonsu himself formed the mighty tip of the spear. His combat swoop was howling as it raced across the surface and cut through the frigid air; drowning out the subtle crackling of his weapon’s energy field, and the sustained barrage from the orbiting carrier. When the enemy rose from their formerly fortified positions, the Sun Guard collectively unleashed their swoop bike’s lethality -- gauss rounds and nano-missiles tore into their armoured forms, leaving nothing but a carpet of corpses in their wake. When their collective weapons starved themselves of ammunition, the Thyrsians lowered their Lances and drove them through the enemy positions with destructive glee.

Khonsu especially relished the deadly capabilities of his weapon, as he drove the bladed point into the heart of a trench - and kept pace afore his comrades. Countless soldiers who chose the wrong side and bent the knee to a false prophet, found themselves screaming in agony as their bodies violently shook themselves apart at the molecular level. It wasn’t long after their arrival, that the snows of Csilla’s surface were stained with blood and ash, and that the surface installation was left as nothing more than a smoking ruin. While the war was far from over, this battle was a decisive victory for the Sun Guard. Not one to rest on their laurels, the Carrier was ordered to make true planetfall - which in turn would allow the Thyrsian Auxilia to join their brethren on the field. With the reinforcements, and the auxiliary tunnel beneath them secured, it was only a matter of time until the Chiss capital fell - and the Jen’ari soon after.

| [member="Kaalia Pavanos"] | [member="Erin Tenel"] |​