THE UNDEFEATED
STANDOFF
Location: Frontline/centre of the Battlefield
Allies: Osam | Galak | Primarch Drek'ma | Quoron Ver'dum | Udomek Seker | Gordrak | Kyrim Tenebris | Ostak Cl'mana | Krarolk T'manu | Hrajlmak'Natok | Sylok'Vanari | Aryshda | Sethrak |
Enemies: Chasianna | Laertia Io | Thirdas Heavenshield | Beltran Rarr | Mig Gred | Varn Barakis | Yula Perl |
Axe | Gauntlet | Armour |
Forces: 1784 Juggernaut Ultras | 3 Reavers | 20 Ra'maks | The Dreddikkast
Cold air was carried on the wind, rushing through the gaps of his crown as the Dreddikkast pushed aside the bioweapons smog. That chill was a reminder that every step forward as matched by a step backward, a fact that irritated him intensely. They were all coming now, with their own shield generator deactivated whatever time or surprise their own dome had bought them was now used up. The Concord's fabled Rangers were now engaging them, going toe to toe with Juggernauts. The ruby blade of the Axe swung high, darting low with the cock of his wrist as Tathra turned on his right heel, thrusting his left knee into the soldier in front of him. Hunching over himself, the Titan swiped across the soldier in front of him; tearing his gut open before pushing himself upright, bisecting another as he brought the Axe upward and back to his left side. At his side, the Ultras fought as hard as able. Even they were beginning to feel the tire of the ice cold air, but not their beasts. The Rhivaks sent by Hrajlmak charged in ahead of the frontline, attempting to trample their enemy as both Galak and Sethrak lead their forces on adjacent sides of the pushing tide. But even the Jedi for all their failings remained valiant warriors, cutting Rhivaks down to size as Neutralisers focused fire on independent Brumaks, blasting away their limbs out from under them.
Every step forward, matched by a step back.
The Primarch and beast masters unleashed the Servitors, the Guardian rising and divining in a loop into the enemy forces as Ostak's materialised hammer crashed down on the enemies forces. Unity was their strength, the battle meditation of the Ashaka was helpful - but what kept him standing were the actions of his kin. The Concord's forces may have outnumbered them, but every single Ultra had the strength of nearly sixty men; and it showed as they continued to push even as they sustained dozens of wounds. Overhead, the Gunboats under Sethrak's command commenced dives; layering thick molten plasma between the waves of the Concord and their allies. All that he could think about was pushing them into it, watching them burn. Watching the weak and the insignificant drown and melt away into the nothing like they deserved.
Gargled roars escaped with unrelenting anger, Tathra held his Axe flat-faced across his chest in a two-handed grasp - using it to push against the enemy soldiers as he forcibly pushed dozens into the molten flames. In this hell, there was no need for clean kills, no need to hold back. Hrajlmak's Rhivaks were forced to retreat, returning to the Epitaph for a second reprisal as mortar fire crashed down around them. Overhead his own Ra'maks began to concentrate ionic fire on the Neutralisers and enemy tanks across the battlefield. Were once a Rhivak stood firing its red beams, it was replaced by a smouldering ball of plasma exploding outward. The kinetic force hit him in the chest, embers of plasma scattering across his face and into his eyes.
"Hraaaugh...!" The Titan staggered, his own Ultras roaring in anger at his injury as they leapt into the molten fire with the concord. It didn't bother them none, Baedurin enjoyed the heat.
But not in their eyes, Tathra dropped his Axe amid the confusion as he dropped to his knees. Tathra's gauntleted right swept away the embers, bloodshot aureate eyes staring out angrily from underneath his sunken brow and cheekbones. Gritted pincers tore into his own gums as Tathra turned on his side, a arrogant clone approaching with blade aimed for the back of his neck. Though he had the reach and the speed, his crimson hand reaching up and grasping the helmeted head of the Clone as he rose; dangling the man above him like a featherweight. Behind him, the Dreddikkast saw the missiles arcing toward it; but the loyal beast had no choice but to face them head on otherwise leave its master to their mercy.
The massive Dredd turned, using its many black wings to strike at the missiles, a miasma of black tendrils striking the bombs as it came. Its eyes searching the length of the Epitaph, the apparent origin of the missile fire - the Dreddikkast spotted a group climbing up its exterior to find an access port. The mount shrieked, its mental link with the Titan allowing it to convey its findings to him instantly.
Go, protect yourself. Please, I have this!
Without any further delay, the Dreddikkast used its hind legs to leap into the air, its wings propelling it forward as it flew toward the group trying to burn their way inside of the ship, the massive winged beast would attempt to swipe at them with its tendrils once it drew near enough. As useful as the Dredd was, it would provide a consistent distraction at his back, and make a target of itself if it stayed grounded. In the air, he at least knew it would stay safe.
Tathra simply applied pressure with his hand, crushing the head of the soldier of the soldier in the palm of his head. What remained of the clones head running between his fingers like broken yoke as two rangers closed in on either side. Snarling, Tathra swiped the body down like a flail; knocking the first ranger down before throwing the body of the clone in the direction of the other. The Titan pivoted where he stood, bringing his left foot down through the rangers chest; ribs and flesh concaving under the pressure of his boot as he swung the Axe backwards; cutting the other in half as he rose. With his back turned to the enemy, his eyes were briefly cast to the left-most side of the battlefield. He heard it before his eyes understood what he was seeing, the crackling of the air as a thunderous blue wave crashed out across their defences amid silence. Tathra's eyes drew wide, mouth agape as thousands of Warlord Osam's own forces and the Akehnaton defences were obliterated in a moment. He should've deployed the Reavers evenly across the battlefield, it was his oversight. His mistake that now likely left Osam nothing but a fleshy puddle and their left side open to flank.
Every step forward, matched with another step back.
But this was the price of such a mission, such a task. Even unlucky as Osam was, this was the very fate he had accepted when he decided to come. The fate they had all accepted, but he would swear on the Risen's memory to make it worth it. But that did not stop the heartache nor the rage felt at the loss of one of their species most promising leaders. Tathra felt the stinging pain of receding flesh as one of the bio-blasters cut into the side of his right bicep, leaving a scorch mark in place as militia men now armed with new weapons charged in even as the Gunboats continued to cover the battlefield in lines of molten plasma.
"For Warlord Osam! For Draemdus!" One of the Ultra's called out over the din of silence, both wrist blades raised in the air.
The Titan shared that sentiment. His left, blood-shot eye twitched as he raised the gauntlet, absorbing the powerful energy of the bio-blaster fire before shifting his Axe into a two handed grasp. Utilising its ability to manipulate kinesis, Tathra tore a metric tons worth of rifles from the weak hands of the Humans, scattering across the ground to only be trampled on by the Ultras - their rage renewed at the honourless loss of Warlord Osam.
As Tathra moved back into the fray, an Ultra's head rattled close to his feet. Strange whispers directed him as he turned to look in the direction of where it had come from, a group of four standing to oppose him amid the chaotic battlefield. Their parlour tricks were of no use against him, he had had celestials crawl inside his mind, the other of two men issued a challenge as he brandished an Axe. The third, a winged humanoid striking with lightning against the Beast Master's Ra'maks and the fourth, he recognised as Laertia.
Two of them, he had already beaten before. One at Sarka and before that the other at Yurb. Tathra allowed them to speak, but he had long since tired of moralist prattling. Did the Jedi think the notion scared him? They already controlled a seventh of the Galaxy, it would not be much longer till that drew close to half.
"You don't seem to understand." Tathra spoke in basic, shifting into a combat stand as he faced them with Axe held in his left.
"This Galaxy isn't yours. Anymore."
A moment passed as Tathra pushed himself off of his right foot, leaping back four metres as he released a powerful wave of red energy in the direction of all four.