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

[Vandra Zambrano]

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

She darted across the frozen landscape with her mother as she witnessed the power of her mother upon the Mandalorians that stood in their way as she tried her best to deflect the stray bolts away from her and Ahani, She saw the waters turn red with blood of many and she saw a projectile pierce through her mothers armor causing her to hurt. She darted over and lended even her own power to Ahani to keep her strength as she looked forward to the Mandalorian she was focused on, Her eyes flared with fury as she slammed her foot into the ice sending a shock wave of ice and snow towards the Mandalorians in front of her followed shortly by a blast of lightning from her finger tips. She wanted to bombard them with her rage and fury and bury them in shards of ice to present to her father and mother, as well as any toys she might be able to collect for herself but for now she was going to keep her mother safe and give the mandalorian before them a nightmare of atime.

 

[Lark]

Location: Tunnels underneath Csilla
Allies: [member="Tsisaar Taral"] [member="Azriel Mortii"]
Enemies: TJE [member="Darth Necrin"] [member="Neoplix"] [member="Kao Xusros"]

Like his opponent, Lark did not deign to reveal his name. It was a pointless sign of respect, each person in this hall had one objective and that was to kill their enemies. It made no difference to Lark what their names were.

When the enemy Sith began firing at Lark, he quickly switched from his enchanted dagger to his sword, the dagger was not large enough to block the stream of gunfire that was coming towards him. But in the brief time it took to alternate weapons, a laser grazed the side of his torso, ripping off a piece of cloth. It stung, and the cold did not help. But the pain helped Lark concentrate. He either blocked or evaded the subsequent storm of laser fire, put was slightly pushed back as he did so, and in the final burst Lark's sword was flung from his hands, dropping not far behind him. The figure, presumably out of ammunition, took out a Sith sword similar to Lark's own, although it was larger. Lark knew he couldn't beat this man with brute force alone.

Lark danced out of the way of the strike, darting to the side and running into the icy wall. Thinking quickly, Lark reached out using the Force, ripping loose chunks of ice and icicles from the wall and hurling them towards his opponent. After he did that, he would pivot so his back was no longer against the wall, and unsheathed his dagger in his free hand, smiling mischievously. Now that he had a bit more room to breath, he could swing without risk of striking his allies. He would keep an eye on the other fights to ensure he didn't get surrounded, but for now most of his focus was on the beast in front of him.

 

[Neoplix]

Neoplix
Dueling: [member="Lark"]

Little did lark know, previously (in my original post), Neoplix had loaded maser charges into his rifle, rather than simple laser gas cylinders. This meant that, upon trying to block the master blasts, lark’s sword would almost certainly be sent hurtling down the tunnel, due to the massive kinetic force each maser blast held.

Neoplix felt the force begin to pull at the walls, and watched as the ice flew towards him from several directions. He didn’t bother to respond; his armor could easily handle the brittle, easily shatterable ice.

Instead, he focused on the dagger in his opponent’s hand, knowing it was the greatest threat. He continued his charge, changing direction as lark moved, and slipped a small spiked sphere from his belt and hurled it, aiming slightly to the left of his enemy’s head: a distraction. From the right, he swung his massive blade, aiming to cleave his enemy in Twain at the waist, using his massive gen’dai strength and superhuman speed to propel the blade so fast it was little more than a blur.

 

[Lark]

As the fight progressed, and [member="Neoplix"] made his next move, Lark was brought back to one of the first fights he ever took part in after joining the Sith.

He was hesitant to call it training, or a friendly spar, because blood was shed and people were killed. They were more a way to judge whether or not one had the potential to serve the Empire well, a trial of sorts. In a way, he was in a similar position now. But those sessions had properly prepared him for the battles to come. Back than, and even now, Lark had always relied on misdirection and trickery in order to defeat his opponents. So the tactic Neoplix made was a familiar one, one that Lark himself had done before against Sith Lords and Jedi before. Drawing the Force into himself, he quickly lunged backwards, letting the spiked ball fly past his head, brushing his scarlet hair as it did so, and avoiding the subsequent strike.

One hit from that blade, and Lark knew he'd either be crippled or dead. Fortunately, he'd always been quick on his feet. Growing up on the streets, one had to be. But he had learned plenty of tricks since his time spent sleeping under bridges.

You're not the only one who uses deception to get his way. With the Force, Lark grabbed the spiked ball, and sent it back directly towards Neoplix. And from behind, the sword Lark was forced to drop before he wove around the initial strike slowly rose into the air, the tip of the blade aiming at Neoplix's back. The two weapons flung towards the Jen'ari soldier, one from the front and one from the back.

 

[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"]

I am a doll made of rags, tossed by an inconvenient lover. My daughter rages behind me, beautiful in her chaos and the distended coils of her mind pulled like taffy and ironed out past all misgivings.

Leave it to [member="Darth Carnifex"] to allow the insane to be birthed in his name.

Metal-clad fingers claw at his buy’ce, the helmet of a man too powerless to walk without an artificial exoskeleton. The doom of Mandalorians, soldiers in tin boxes ready to reach their collective consciousness, the greatest lie.

Kad Harang’ir did not watch over Manda, as a conflagration of flames is watched by a soldier craving warmth from his Death Watch. There was no Manda.

“I am.”

I meet the bullet with the meat of my thigh, the pain slamming into my leg until my knee sinks to the ice, and the blade that silly stick with finessed edges whistles harmlessly through the air, my hand reaching at the crux point to send the blade reeling back, at super-speed to [member="Kaine Australis"]’ own leg.

Cut the meat of him. Drown him in the ichor of his own bad decisions. My fist connects once more toward his left shoulder, stronger now.

As strong as destiny, and as controlled as a stellar object going nova. This Mandalorian, encased in a shell, has he learned only minutely from my son to appear in such places, expecting the success of missions victorious?

I keep with the blow, latching onto his neck with both hands. And down we tumble, into the universe eyes of my mask, the detrimental insanity, which plagues peaceful intents.

​

Black, black waters. A woman’s neck held down beneath the waves by a choking, massive hand. ​

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Fingers ripping at pale skin. ​

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Bleeding it. ​

​

Rending skin to wounds and muscles to loose string-laden ribbons. Familiar fingers. Pale, olive skinned fingers. ​

A pair of black sclera, with red irises. The girl, that one child saved. Her back pale as ivory, clad in the robes of a Panathan Princess. Her gasps and writhing muscles begat the ending of worlds. My husband’s favourite daughter. The one whose blood flows in tandem with his in her veins.

​

Familiar hands, draped in gold and black beskar’kandar. ​

​

Gauntlets clawing at the wreckage of duracrete, as a man, who made a dwarf of a giant, pulled on her legs. ​

​

Lines in the duracrete. ​

​

One more battle. Raw. Desolation in a glass jaw.​

The scream resounds in our ears. An infinitely strong woman realizing that against the Dark Lord… there is no defence. The screams die to whimpers. To a man forged in and contained by and destroyed in the Dark’s perfect crucible, as he cradled and cooed and settled.

Gave peace, in a way this frail human never can. Remains incapable. As impotent as his age. ​

​

An infant with emerald eyes. ​

​

The scream again. That scream locked beneath Ithor’s waves. A permanent drowning coating the edges of her inconstant mind. Their destruction… the unbreakable shattered...​

​

… a boar wrapped in anger. Abounding in ferocious love. ​

“We know where she belongs…”

A terrified parent holding her daughter at night in the hellacious Dark. A darkness too fit for the child. And here, the clumsy redeemer, who cannot even stand alone before two without reinforcements.

​

Scattered armour. Loose clenched fists. ​

I rip at the lessons [member="Manu Xextos"] taught this man. The peace, the comfort, the healing balms. Clawing and raking my teeth against Kaine’s proverbial neck, I drink of his mental life fluid, and drag his body into that of the girl, whose skin tasted the frigid and unforgiving cold of Kaas City.

A man needs most of all to feel the rut of a woman. The terror of helpless necks. The curious oddity of being both revered, and waylaid for that next masculine roar. I will rip his mind from him. I will carry it by inches in my pockets, until they sop with his juices and find another way out.

​

Gold and black beskar'kandar-clad knees hitting the soil. ​

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An Empress kneeling for an Emperor, pleading with her only value... ​

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... to rescue her c'yare by laying her life willingly down...​

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... to hold his head in her hands...​

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May our scars hurt us, until we bleed. ​

My hands claw from his buy’ce, this Mandalorian intent on hurting before he dies.

“My son should have taught you to block your mind, Vesull’s son. You are still Daddy’s reluctant boy. The man, whose panic induces his parent’s name.”

 

[Eli-Mae Forrest]

Nyx thought she had this in the bag as the the troops began to retreat, she had no worries as she continued to press her advance, all of the blaster bolts fired at her were deflected with ease. The small sith's mind was elsewhere, with her apprentice, she had no doubt that she had prepared him to the best of her abilities, it would comedown to if he remembered his training, if he did she had no doubt he'd be fine, if he didn't, she didnt know.

All was going well, that was until she saw the trooper roll into a crouch, she didn't recognize the weapon in his hands, and that worried her, as he fired she would roll to her right before letting out one of the most powerful force screams she had ever let loose

[member="SL2222"]

 

[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 absence of Kaine Australis from his loved ones’ side was more vicious than the life of him, who pushed boundaries too far.

​

Hands and knees, crawling against the ground. ​

​

A back slumping against searing hot skin. ​

​

Survival’s boon. ​

​

“Thank you.”​

And the world around us crumbled to ash. The planet upon which we stand dissipates for the cosmic vacuum in which I indoctrinate [member="Manu Xextos"]’ next student to my bower.

The cosmos expands and contracts with my breath. With our breathing. In and out in a syncopated rhythm dictated by the Force which sustains us.

Stars birth and burn in tandem to the wails of anguish as a woman and mother holds the severed head of her riduur in her hands. Her brow connects with the black polished floor. Body reeling. ​

​

She clings to the skeleton of a man, who thought his bravery could defend her. ​

​

And one slim voice echoes in the abyss. ​

​

“Baba?”​

​

Nothing aside remains. ​

​

"Kaine!!!!"​

​

The echoing wail out of her voice is the scream, which begat and ends the cosmos. ​

​

Empires crumble in her image, the destroyer he shared in pillow-talk, wrapped in silken sheets at night. ​

Amber eyes crumbling to the death of agency, as the rut… the battle… it dies to accord.

​

Yes… bring him back. Give him to me. ​

The most terrible truth for old heroes dying in their battle-throes was the reality that their loved ones surpassed their death-dates. While Kaine Australis got to end his life in the glory of Manda, everyone he tried to protect, every face he loved survived him…

​

… and lived derelict of protection. ​

​

Derelict of anything but the horror of survival under the shadow of an evil empire, the cleansing of a soul in black waters. ​

The tearing of a young widow’s fingernails against duracrete, as his fight.. that glorious battle faded to the reality of dead soldiers, and wives plucking at dwindling strands to give their remaining children the right to draw breath.

“I create stars in the palm of my hand, Kaine Australis… you are the unraveller of your own worlds.” Centuries of becoming opened before the Mandalorian my son decided to train…

While my husband defeats a mocker-king in his prison upon prison, upon prison.

The penalty of action: Despair and deal-making in his most beloved celestial bodies.

“Was it worth it, Kaine? Oh… no. Kain’ik… yes, Kain’ik, sweet thing. Was it worth making her quiver? Was it worth making her die down in those subterranean pits? Is this small glory worth every inch of ground she took in your name?” My teeth gnash at his ear.

"In our exertions, stars go out. They explode and lie, inconstant atoms, for my reattribution. I am the Starmother, I am the creator of worlds. I shall create a world of agony for thee, Kaine Australis. ​

​

I shall show you the success of your exploits, until your daughters and your sons lay either skeletal in mud, or bent low-backed for your enemies, as chattle, or daughters, or brood-mares. ​

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And you, inconstant lout, the father of utmost generations, you… ​

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We Sith… ​

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Will… ​

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Call… ​

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Blessed…”​

Manu warned his apprentice against battling the mother of all starfire. As the Nerean Crownsguard battle, bleed and slay, as the Sith swarms overtake the Mandalorian position, I give Kaine the utmost mercy.

A touch of the divine, in my own image.

​

Gold and black beskar’kandar gauntlets clawing at duracrete… ​

exiting Hell to find no comfort in Mandalore’s protection, for Commenor took it all. ​

​

The quiet wail of a young woman, gripping his shoulders and praying that if she plead with him, ​

if she pursued peace, ​

all other stars would go out. ​

“And I shall know [member="Beth Cadera"] and call her Abaddon, for she shall become my herald in the skies. ​

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For her mother will know me. ​

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And her brother will know me. ​

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And her sister will call me by name… ​

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all..​

​

because…​

​

… you came.”​

As the void of voids passes the threshold and once more the howling scream of his beloved dies to my own caterwauling voice, the final image rests upon he, who thought he could accomplish the unthinkable in his own image:

The scream which begat and ends the worlds. ​

​

I win.​

 

[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"]

“Oh babydoll. They’re already mine.”

The backhand slammed against my cheek with the full force of an armoured and angry man, who dwarfed me by 6 inches.

I tumbled into the ground by my step-daughter Vandra, sprawled upon Csilla’s icy grounds. The battle is all but finished. Kaine did not make it to Carnifex this day.

The seeds for his doubts were sown beside his growing anger, rife with the protective aspects of a father for his children… for his special child.

Beth, yes. [member="Beth Cadera"]. The one touched by [member="Darth Prazutis"]’ and [member="Darth Carnifex"]’s hands. Ineffectual man, thinking he had agency over his daughters… he will learn the place of a seed-giver, and his mouth will be sewn shut with the resolution of the mute male.

As it should be.

“It’s okay, Kain’ik. I have your wife. Your children will be soon to follow.” The absence of my lifeblood chokes the action out of me. I cant to the side, a woman on ice slipping away into the legs of my protectors.

The damage rests in his mind, lingering closer and closer to the madness of the Dark forever more. Sprawled on the blue frozen ground, I push against feeble hands on sliding ice.

“Cuckold.” My cheek burns, the damage done. I reach for Vandra, my precious daughter.

 

[Iasha Rha]

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

The best laid plans of mice and men- Well so the saying went.

The two shots that rocketed out of the particle blaster crashed into a snow bank several meters behind their intended target and blew it into a cloud of melting whiteness that scattered in the freezing wind. It would seem the edge of surprise on which he had relied had too scattered in the wind.

And as the recoil pushed him on to his back foot, he saw the Sith looking right at him. The next SL2222 knew, something impacted him with a fierce sound. He was lifted off the ground and crashed into the frozen ground several meters away. Despite the sonic dampeners in his helmet and the extensive defences in his armour, his ears rung and his body ached as he scrambled to his feet again. It felt almost as if he had taken grenade to the face and somehow survived.

Shaking his head, Kir tried to focus his eyes again while the nausea welled up inside.

His troop, meanwhile, had taken the moment he bought them to use the Phi-class shuttles as cover. They weren't giving up as much as they were re-strategising. They could never hold up to a Sith in straight combat, but if they hit and run? Maybe, just maybe. They could observe that their blasters were less than effective against the lightstabre. Yet, the legionnaires fired at the Sith from cover, but they were quick to duck down or away from their previous position in case of a returned bolt. Hopefully some of them were quicker at the recovering than the Sith was at predicting and returning their fire.

If only they had a Sith of their own right now.

Kir too was not yet out of the fight. Swallowing a mouthful of vomit, he plucked an item from his harness, armed it behind his back, and raised his particle blaster. One more burst round of two shots; one second to see which way she dodged, and then he threw the sonic detonator.

He knew he was against the odds, but he was willing to take a thrashing for his brothers in arms.

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Location: Csilla, 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="Kor Vexen"] [member="Khonsu Amon"]

The combined troops of the Sith Empire’s legion, the Blackblade Guard, the Sithspawn, and the Sun Guard attacked Csilla’s capital of Csaplar from different sides. Like a hangman’s rope they had tied a deadly knot.

“Focus, Tehkyram.” “The noose tightens, and now it is time to kick the chair out from under their feet.”

Tehkyram’s machines of war hammered the city, armour advancing and engaging the city’s defenders. And as the first wave of sithspawn tore into the city’s defenses, the second wave finally caught up. The enormous beasts had picked up considerable momentum while crashing and tearing through the tunnels, and now they emerged from the hard earth, ice, and rime-crested metal with claws thrashing and maws agape to swallow all resistance.

Immediately upon exiting their tunnels, some of the Ravagers crouched and fired spines, as big as spears, at the enemies fighting the Festerers, before rushing in with their carapace armour and scythe-like claws. The adrenaline that rushed through these monsters made them extra ferocious, and the armour could turn both blaster and sluthrower. Yet, they were far from invulnerable. Blasters found their marks between the plates and sent the large creatures crashing into the earth, dead. Gunner’s nests from above cut a swath through the Ravager and Festerer ranks.

The Guzijeji used their bestial agility to rush out and climb the city’s structures, tearing into elevated shooter’s nests. While several fell, they often lasted long enough to disrupt the nests with their natural weapons. Jen’ari troopers were thrown from their perches by the Guzijeji’s antlers, claws, and mighty jaws.

But the second wave had yet to introduce their true giants: The Behemoths. Last to arrive, the enormous insectoids had to break their way out of the tunnels. They towered above the rest, standing on par with armoured vehicles, and carved through steel and concrete with ease as they crashed ahead with breakneck speed. They were the true rank-breakers.

“All units forward. Secure the tunnel’s mouth!”

While the Sithspawn had the initiative, the armour, and the sheer offensive power to crash hard into enemy lines, there was a point of a distinct push-back from the Jen’ari. Joycelyn could see, as she came into view of the tunnels’ exit, one of the Behemoths fell to the stroke of a lightsabre, and the heavy fire of enemy guns. They had more, but she knew where her effort was most needed.

“I want two squads flanking each those guns.” “Tehkyram, take out their champion, and make sure they see it. Crush their spirit.”

Groups of Hyal'hask drew with them each their Guzijeji and rushed to the sides to flank the guns, while Joycelyn herself gestured for the remaining Hyal'hask to wait and be ready. She watched over the lip over the tunnel, waiting for the perfect moment to launch her next strike. She wanted it to best concur with the flanking attacks for maximum effect.

Waited, watched-

"Nyashjontû Wo!" "Go, now!"

She was first over the lip, jumping across in her black armour and igniting the red blade of her lightpike as a beacon for the Hyal'hask to follow.

Spoiler

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

 

[Darth Necrin]

Location: Tunnels
Allies: [member="Neoplix"] [member="Kao Xusros"]
Enemies: [member="Tsisaar Taral"] [member="Lark"] [member="Azriel Mortii"]

If this Tsisaar thought Necrin would fall from such a weak trick, he truly was a fool, just like his empire. Necrin sensed, and heard, the rifle firing behind him, and easily turned around to deflect them with his lightsaber. He had to stop the barrage of lightning though, cause he needed to focus to deflect all the bolts. And he also needed his other hand to crush the rifle, which he quickly did.

He could see the apprentices had also started their fights. Kao had been fast to engage his opponent, attacking wildly at once. He had the potential to become a great sith. Neoplix was attacking more unorthodox, using guns and swords, not a lightsaber. But nevertheless, he was a good fighter, and could also become a great sith one day.

His attention fell back to his own fight. He charged at his opponent, using the force to enhance his speed and strength. He rised his lightsaber and swung it verticaly at Tsisaar. The chances of it getting blocked was high, but it would lead to a melee. One mistake could be fatal, and Necrin had decided to be the one pushing the fight. He would not up, not let Tsisaar get a chance to get the upper hand.

 

[Darth Bellum]

K O R _ V E X E N

---

---

Planetside, Surface of Csilla
Assault Csaplar, Assault Preparations

After the attempted push back against the Sith Empire's forces, Vexen now led the assault that was pushing the Jen'ari ground forces back, leading a charge of troops assisted by droids wielding large durasteel tower shields as mobile cover for his infantry at the front as well as armored unit division providing supporting fire from walkers and artillery. The exchange of blaster bolts left ghostly spirals in the frigid cold air as bodies, twisted chassis and destroyed vehicles littered the frozen wasteland. Vexen swung his lightsaber as blaster bolts were scattered left and right, an aura of authority and command emanating from the Sith General who led his troops against the enemy. Despite all the bloodshed and ceaseless combat, he did not feel hatred for the Jen'ari in this very instant, but he did feel one other thing - pity, for an enemy he looked down upon as inferior in every aspect. A Legionnaire would run to his side, dropping to one knee and swiftly taking aim with a shouldered rocket launcher before squeezing the trigger, letting a column of exhaust fly out and spiral a rocket out towards a frozen outcropping that the Jen'ari were using as cover. While some dove for cover, others were not quick enough to react and in an instant became practically vaporized by the blast.

Vexen's slow but diligent push had a singular focus in mind; one of the many entrances scattered across the planet that would lead below the surface of the ice to the cities that were nestled closer to the core of the planet, and the prize being the capital of Csaplar. Heavily armored assault walkers trodded behind, softening up the enemy lines with their mass driver cannons as a detachment of troops from the established forward landing base were coming to bolster the front and strengthen the spearhead assault to the tunnel entrance, giving the Sith Empire an extra push. This process would continue as additional reinforcements would come in waves to control the flow of battle. Vexen was keeping in close contact with the other ground commanders to coordinate their assault that would tighten an ironclad grip around the city. Simultaneous strikes from several points made for a much more difficult defense when no point could divert defenders to another.

The sounds of battle raged on as Vexen lifted his saber and spoke with a commanding vocoded voice, " O N W A R D! " Legion soldiers would move behind the shieldbearing droids who were now practically charging forward, blasters pinging uselessly off their thick durasteel tower shields. It was waves of metal and flesh coming fast at the enemy whilst walker fire softened up targets such as enemy armor or emplacements that would pose threats. Of course, there was the occasional explosion as rockets and grenades were employed against the attack, crumpling droids and sending bodies flying. Shouts were heard as orders were barked, cries for medic were heard and insults that could cut into a zilobeast were flung at the enemy. Vexen would stand back a bit, standing in front of the line of assault walkers pelting the enemy fortifications. A series of muffled explosions could be heard as Vexen turned back to see a series of turbolaser fire raining down on distant targets, making a beeline towards large organized areas set up by the Sith Empires. Dozens of vehicles and an exceptional number of troops were instantly vaporized by the last ditch orbital bombardment of the surface. Large energy shields deployed by mobile shield generators would flare to life to cover the surviving troops and armored vehicles around the forward landing zone in a protective cocoon of energy as the orbital bombardment passed over.

The orbital strike was a minor set back as it had wiped out a wave of reinforcements to Vexen's front, but he would make do with the troops he had and use his superior forces to not only attack the entrance but seize it by the time the next wave arrived. It would just require a shift in plans, though the charge already in play would need to be adjusted. Vexen would key his comms to the attacking forces, " Divert all droid forces down the center, arrowhead formation. Squads Aurek and Gundark divert to flanks and walkers one through six focus fire on their defensive line. The rest focus fire on enemy armor. " Like a unified body, troops would move to their reassigned positions as the droid shieldbearers armed with their rifles moved into an arrowhead formation that blocked all small arms fire directed at the infantry coming in behind them whilst flanking squads moved into position to catch any enemy out in the open not behind cover in an aggressive crossfire that would later focus on the defenders at the tunnel entrance.

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] ​

 

[Neoplix]

Neoplix smirked. He was a rather arrogant type, sure, but then, it wasn’t without reason: his skill and cunning had resulted in victory after victory in the past, and he was certain it would occur again.

Here was no different. His foe clearly had some idea what to do in a battle, using shards of ice as a distraction, telekinetically lifting his blade, etc. but Neoplix had laid a trap, and now it was time for it to be sprung. He clenched his fist, and the sphere detonated, unleashing a concussion grenade blast as it passed directly past his opponent’s head. He was sure this would almost certainly knock his enemy unconscious, if it didn’t simply snap his neck. At that range, with no warning, there was little he could do.

If the blade still lifted up behind him, he would hear the scrape and clatter, his body capable of detecting heartbeats at 200 meters, and spin, batting the blade away with his own sword, hopefully sending it clattering to the wall.

[member="Lark"]

 

[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 Mandalorians vacate and I know I have done the duty of my heart. A student fractured.

Australis never should have come.

Impervious male, he ought to have looked to his own borders and seen the shadows on the walls of his bower, but glory seeks the blinded brave.

A fool and his family, crying in the night. Hidden tears, like festering but untreated wounds, would fracture any being made of beskar like a sculptor setting plastic explosive in an unconvincing work. He should have, like an Echani male, known his place and tended the home.

Blasts of energy from above rock down to cover his retreat, and I hold Vandra as I bask in the blows from beneath my shield. The ice turns water around me. Tainted, bloody waters.

Eventually, like the terrors in the Mandalorian’s mind, maybe those waters will turn black.

“Empress-Consort!” The Crownsguard rush us, I am lifted, and carried. Blood seeping down my leg, which although I could heal I let seep. The hymn of melancholy ringing in my ears as the Mandalorians retreat was too blessed a tone.

​

My work done. ​

 

[Keira Cerdulan]

[SIZE=11pt]Location: [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Descending to Csilla orbit[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Allies: [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]TSE[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Enemies: [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]TJE, [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Keira didn’t wait for her opponent this time around, gunning her engines the hotshot pilot and a handful of her surviving fighters made their way to the atmosphere, that glorious chaos of lasers and exploding flak. Obviously, the perfect place to go flying. Obviously.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Without fear in her heart Keira quickly banked her fighter and made course to the nearest dish: only painfully far away. It was going to be a long long flight, and as if to just accent this fact one of the bombers under her command burst into an exploding ball of flame. It would be a long, and bloody flight. And immediately Keira was rolling and diving with her fighter to try her best to avoid the seeming horde of fire these whelps were spitting up at them.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]They’d have to do better than that.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Spinning her fighter upside down the near derange fighter pilot began to joyous experience of both flying upside down and keeping her lunch in, truly, was deserving of her rank as a fighter captain. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Try and keep up! We’re already half dead as it is, don’t be afraid to go a little fast!”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Keira was...laughing. Sending out that usual banter into the comms with little regards for what she [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]should [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]be doing in an operation like this. She was having a blast, what better way to feel more alive than when she was on a total suicide mission? There were no better ways, that was the answer. Continuing her wild flight as another Imperial craft was shot into the ice below, taken down by a glancing shot that had taken out it’s engines.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Didn’t weigh too heavily on her heart this time, that thing just seemed to grow more and more callous the longer she was in command. To an extent, at least. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Her fighter quickly spun back to the right position, laughing all the while. Holding down on the triggers for the laser cannons of the newly beloved fighter, unleashing a torrent of cannon fire at one of the anti-air cannons spitting fire into the air. It soon was pelted with a glowing horde of laser fire with Keira’s strafing run. The pilot never slowed: that dish needed to fall, so horribly stubborn when given such a suicide mission.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]More of her fighters fell, it was obvious not many of them would actually be making it out. Fine by her, there was no connection to these pilots, not like the old Mastiff Squadron. Now just scrap on some junkyard after Corellia. The memory filled her with a smolder rage that made the crazed pilot fly like even more of a daredevil, her fighter rolling and unleashing cannon fire at seemingly random at any enemy craft that got too close, just as much as she launched mainly ineffective strafing runs against any emplacement that had showed itself on the ice, but it didn’t matter. For her quarry, one of the massive shield dishes that had supported the now disabled Planetary Shielding, now laid in her view.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Survivors, fly faster! Almost there!”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Her joy, and optimism at their chances, was a close to infectious thing. But they weren’t out of the clear just yet…[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]One of the handful of remaining fighters exploded, another Imperial dead. Most of the task force had now been torn apart...but what remained was enough ordinance for her.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Within firing range, prime ordinance! Aim for the connector of the dish!”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The tracker, counting down the meters till they were in range, continued to tick downward and downward. The world seem to go quiet as Keira focused in, ignoring the explosions, the whines, the whirls, she only focused on landing her shot.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]And then she fired every missile her fighter could muster to shoot, the handful of fighters still under her command followed suite. So much smaller than what was originally planned…[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Fire burst from the shield, and a thunderous clap came, and the whine of metal crashing against metal: the dish had fallen into itself. The entire structure beginning to [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]crash down to the ice, followed by an explosion of internal systems finally giving way. Was a beautiful thing, and Keira couldn’t help but think of her old squadmate Azure. Would’ve loved seeing that...and that solemn thought was immediately followed by Keira whooping into the comms.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Yaha! Show that to anyone who doubts us again! Now, let’s get back to space. We’ll get our medals yet!”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]And with that, Keira launched her fighter in a sharp arc heading back to orbit with the handful of fighters remained. Of the three squadrons that had come, most of the bombers had been destroyed in space, fighters had been locked in orbit, and what was now leaving Csilla frozen wastes? 6 fighters, but their quarry had been destroyed. And that was enough of a victory for Keira.[/SIZE]

 

[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

The ice finally broke to reveal metal, and she smiled. Oh so close to new sources of knowledge, but the smile faded as she considered the fact that interesting presence was just not coming. Such a disappointment to be sure, but there would be another time and place in the future perhaps. Crimson light erupted from her hand, her lightsaber starting to carve its way through what was the ceiling of the library. She could sense her apprentice nearing through the tunnel she had formed from the ice. She wondered if he had enjoyed himself in this excursion. A taste of what a real war might look like.

Her lightsaber finished carving as her apprentice neared. The metal falling away into the library itself.

"Behold, apprentice, the Expeditionary Library," she said, gesturing for him to enter. "Mind the drop."

It would be a shortfall to an upper-level walkway, and what they would see in the dim light was books upon books upon books. The Chiss, she was told, did not believe in using data preservation because one too many ice storms or freak accidents had wiped drives. No, they had gone the traditional method of ink and paper.

"Every scrap of knowledge the Chiss have ever recorded about the Unknown Regions is accumulated here," she said, her purple eyes gazing for any sign of enemy forces that might have been waiting for them. But there was nothing. She supposed the siege of Csalpar had drawn all of their attention. With a flick of her hand, she drew out her comlink.

"Command, this is Darth Arcanix. Inform Admiral [member="Thorne"] that the Expeditionary Library is in Sith hands and it appears there is no damage to it any of the collection. We will be investigating thoroughly though."

 

[Lark]

[member="Neoplix"] shouldn't have smirked.

Expressions gave more away than words, at times. Lark instantly knew something was wrong based off of his opponent's reaction. Knowing that it likely had something to do with the odd sphere, and sensing that it presented immediate danger, Lark turned his head and darted to the side using the Force, nearly a blur, as he had so many times before. Heightened senses and reflexes made time seem to slow down, and although the ensuing blast knocked Lark back he was able to avoid the brunt of the blast.

His sword knocked away, Lark rose with a hellish smile on his face, dagger in hand. He hadn't had a fight like this since he left the Empire over a year ago, it appeared as though a lack of strong opponents had made him rusty. But no matter. The concussion blast had shattered some of the foundations of the walls, causing the tunnel to shake and several parts of the walls to crumble. Detonations from the surface had likely weakened the structural integrity of the place as well.

Earlier Lark had only thrown small chunks of ice, mere snowballs compared to what he was about to do. He smashed the remaining foundations around the two of them, causing the ceiling to collapse in on itself. Lark used the Force and pushed off the ground, sending him flying backwards out of range of the collapse.

 

[Matt the Radar Tech]

CSILLA

---

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

War tends to bring to light past failures for those that lose.​

​

The Chiss Commandos did their job effectively. Through the once-bustling streets of Csaplar, where thousands of Chiss used to walk peacefully and freely, the group of combatants engaged with enemy Jen'ari forces. The charric weaponry proved apt at dealing with the basic Force users equipped with lightsabers, the impressive kinetic impact of each bolt offering the highly trained commandos opportunity to land critical hits while working on conjunction. Mitth'orn'eruod, for all the good he was despite his hand-to-hand training, accepted that this was not his forte and followed his men.

"Sir, we've sent out the call for local officials and representatives to begin moving," The Sergeant said, nodding his helmet. "They are on the way and should arrive when we do."

Mitth'orn'eruod responded by firing his pistol at a Jen'ari trooper that rounded the corner. The fight continued, as the group kept pushing their way through the side streets and unoccupied buildings, ensuring to down any enemies they could that were moving in smaller numbers than main battle groups. The less enemies near the palace, the less danger for the parliament representatives to go through...

"Hurry, we don't have much time before the Aristocra call for escape vessels!"

* * *​

​

Meanwhile, in House Palace, the representatives of the ruling families were in a mild panic. Things certainly weren't going how they expected, and from the look of things, the Sith Empire were making steady progress into the capital proper. Standing in the main meeting chamber, all four Aristocra shared concerned glances. Lorr'enew'gromme, from House Lorr, paced in front of one of the large windows of the palace, his deep red eyes observing the battle beyond the reflective surface.

"This simply won't do," Lorr'enew'gromme muttered angrily. "The Jen'ari said they would be able to repel such an invasion... they ensured us protection from the Sith Empire!"

From behind, a female representative walked over to share the window. Quylen'icuamu'llongoe shook her head, rubbing at the bridge of her nose.

"This treaty was never accepted by all Chiss," She said, sighing as a nearby explosion caused debris to impact against the palace walls. "We knew accepting these terms would be opposed, but we didn't expect the Sith Empire to put their boot to the necks of the Jen'ari. It should have just been a case of handling any Chiss who disagreed, but we underestimated the ire remaining from the Iron Empire..."

"Surely the insurgent Chiss won't disrespect the rule of the Aristocra," Another representative said, a small Chiss by the name of Ras'ibas'zura. He was young. "Such a thing hasn't happened in hundreds of years! They must respect our decision and abide by our rule!"

Lorr'enew'gromme huffed, as he crossed his arms. In the past there had been decisions made, and there had been naysayers, but never something to this degree. The sheer number of reports about Chiss fighting Jen'ari forces and other Chiss was staggering. In fact, were it not for the relative safety of the house palace, the four Aristocra might have had cause for more concern...

"Qell'emiz'blizoth, the fighting is getting closer," Lorr'enew'gromme said as he looked back to his fellow Aristocra. "Perhaps we should consider preparing our shuttles?"

Looking up from a datapad, Qell'emiz'blizoth raised an eyebrow. "I have done just so, not moments ago," Qell'emiz'blizoth said in a low, monotonic voice. His eyes looked distant. "They will be arriving in ten minutes, ample time for us to reach the rooftop and avoid any unpleasantness of the Sith Empire."

"Did we make a mistake?" Quylen'icuamu'llongoe asked, voice low, eyebrows furrowed. "Was the treaty really worth the reward? A consolidation of ruling houses under the Jen'ari leadership, an increase in our respective influences and status, all for this? Did we invite the very demons we hoped to avoid into our homes?"

All four members of the Aristocra were silent for a moment, each weighing the benefits of their treaty deals. If word got out, it could potentially ruin them. Especially considering several lesser families had been routed out of their holdings in recent months...

"This is Aristocra Qell'emiz'blizoth," Qell'emiz'blizoth said into his comm for his personal assistant. "We are moving to the rooftop."

There was no response.

"Answer me!" Qell'emiz'blizoth shouted into the comm, growling. "Are you there?"

Suddenly a small beeping could be heard from the door, as the council of families each turned to look...

* * *​

​

The doors to the meeting chamber burst open. Chiss Commandos entered rapidly, weapons aimed, smoke clearing from the charge used to breach. Mitth'orn'eruod followed in their wake, charric raised, red eyes glowing. And from behind the Admiral, dozens of insurgent Chiss joined, all opposing the Jen'ari Empire in totality. Among them was Qell'emiz'blizoth's secretary, a datapad in his hand, as he sent various files and meeting notes out to others... the implication being that the deals for more power the Aristocra had made were now public knowledge.

"In the name of the Chiss Expansionary Defense Force, I place the corrupt council of families under arrest for the betterment of the Chiss people," Mitth'orn'eruod and the gathering surrounded the Aristocras. "You have been found guilty of immoral dealings with the Jen'ari, using treaty agreements and personal power claims to increase your family holdings at the detriment of the Chiss... this course of action has always, and will always, be unacceptable."

"You won't get away with this," Lorr'enew'gromme cried, as he clenched his fists. "You have no proof!"

"On the contrary, numerous private council files have been sent to the public," Mitth'orn'eruod said, as he motioned to a large group that arrived at the entrance to the chamber, their insignia clear and obvious. "There is also a majority of parliament members in support of ending treaties and agreements with the Jen'ari... some are here today, to witness the arrest of the corrupt elements of our ruling houses."

A spokesperson for the members of parliament stepped forward, hands at the small of his back, as he glared.

"I am representative Trist'sur'zlaci. I speak for the majority of representatives in our elected parliament. With the evidence provided, a majority vote in favor of removing the current four ruling houses from power until such time as trials can be conducted, this elected committee has no other option but to place you all under arrest," Trist'sur'zlaci nodded to the Chiss Commandos, and watched as the four Aristocra were taken into custody. "You will be given fair trials, but as of now, emergency governing power is afforded to the Defense Hierarchy..."

"You will all pay for this," Lorr'enew'gromme wrestled against the commandos holding him. "Mark my words."

"Enough, Aristocra Lorr'enew'gromme, do not embarass yourself further." Mitth'orn'eruod said with a shake of the head. He looked to the assembled members of the Chiss. "The Chiss thank you for your support, representatives. When the leaders of the Defense Hierarchy arrive, they will begin proceedings and we will sort this mess out."

With a sigh, Mitth'orn'eruod turned and walked to the palace window. He looked out over the carnage of the battlefield beyond, though couldn't help but feel that a positive event had just transpired...

 

[Djorn Bline]

Location: Csalpar
Allies: [member="Kole Harper"]
Enemies: TJE
Objective: Infiltrate

Darkness. Everyone was born seeing nothing but a black void with their eyes closed, and they would forever see it when they came to their rest bed. It was also an idea that was hated amongst those of the Jedi and their allies for they and their descendants fought tirelessly to put a seal to it. But no matter how much they fought against it or those consumed by the Dark Side of then Force wished to wash out the light, it couldn’t. Was part of the natural order in the Galaxy, forever existing until time and space collapsed.

His eyelids were tightly shut, seeing pitch black. Dead? No, far from it. His senses were still alive and his conscious didn’t part from him. Slowly, yet surely he was getting up from his temporarily slumber and trying to reconfigure with the coordination of his body. Almost like trying to relearn how to walk like an infant, normal for those that survived a brutal landing like Djorn’s.

And brutal it was.

The hull of the ship was ruined, leaving openings to the interior of the stealth freighter. Fire was eating at whatever it could to not burn out, producing smoke to rise up Csilla’s skies. The ship, ironically, was a minor worry for the Inquisitor. His main concern was his team.

”Callout, now,” the Imperials said in the comm channels of his team and silence answered back. ”Does anyone copy?!”

Nothing again. This made him scanning for any lifeforms around him, making it easy to locate his squad mates. But as he begin searching, dread begin to follow. He came across one agent laying across the snow with a few limbs severed from their body. Another one but their limbs still attached; only difference was they were laying dead in an odd position. There was no luck to finding anyone alive as he searched.

But to his relief there was one tag with vitals.

Harper.

”Harper!” He tried running only to stumble on his balance and falling down in the snow. But he didn’t stop there. No, receiving these news only drove him to get back up and find exactly where his fellow agent was. He could only hope he operative wasn’t in critical conditions.

 

[Tehkyram]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NRem1nrdADg​

Objective: Total extermination.
Allies: Joycelyn Zambranohttp://starwarsrp.net/user/8834-joycelyn-zambrano/
Equipment: Lightsaber, Slayerskin, Deathfang

All he needed was the target.

Once Joycelyn highlighted the champion, Tehkyram let go, igniting his saber and leaping into the fray. He cut and slashed forward in a blind, instinctual fury. The soldiers, of course, immediately got out of the way. Even if they weren't trained to not get between a sith and his target, Tehkyram's raw homicidal intent blasted across the battlefield in a dramatic mental scream, anyone approximately close to him could feel him coming and know what he was going to do. And even if that wasn't enough, anything or anyone in front of Tehkyram was crushed, slashed, or blasted across the city as he charged.

So in that sense, the champion's fate was sealed. It was over just as quick as it started. Tehkyram's first two blows were evaded, but the second two were all it took: one horizontal slash to sever his arms at the elbow, then a heavy diagonal one to bisect his torso from shoulder to waist. The shredded pieces fell to the ground as Tehkyram stood still, savoring the feeling of his light going out. One less life, one more victory.

The joy of the kill brought him back to some sense of sanity, enough to finish the second part of his grisly work. Grabbing the head, he produced his knife. The cuts were quick and in no time at all Tehkyram had extracted the corpse's scalp. Satisfied with his work, he held the trophy high and roared, loudly proclaiming his triumph.