Invasion STANDOFF | Bryn'adûl Invasion of SJC held Lexrul, Ruusan, Sev Tok & Shador

[Liram Angellus]

GAME ON YAKHEAD!​

LOCATION: Open Space

Spoiler: SHIP AND FIGHTER MAKEUP

SHIP NAME: ETHEREAL
SHIP CLASS: CARRIER
SHIP CAPTAIN: LIRAM ANGELLUS
COMMAND STAFF

FIGHTER COMPLIMENT: "VOODOO WING"
CALLSIGNS: Captain Angellus "Maverick" is and will always be "Voodoo 1", Commander Rojuh Pouil "Starlight" is "Voodoo 2" Commander Scoht Pouil "Meteor" is "Voodoo 3". Each Squadron leader makes up "Voodoo Wing", their individual squadrons and make-ups are named below.

LONG-RANGE/HIGH-SPEED INTERCEPTION

1. Voodoo 4(Retribution Squadron)Jackal Class Starfighter
2. Voodoo 5(Jurat Squadron) Jackal Class Starfighter
3. Voodoo 6(Retribution Squadron)Jackal Class Starfighter

MULTIPURPOSE SUPERIORITY FIGHTER

1. Voodoo 7(Razorback Squadron) NC-1 X-Wing
2. Voodoo 8(Jurist Squadron) NC-1 X-Wing
3. Voodoo 9(Fi Squadron) NC-1 X-Wing
4. Voodoo 10(Prac Squadron) NC-1 X-Wing
5. Voodoo 11(Tic Squadron) NC-1 X-Wing
6. Voodoo 12(Alcalde Squadron) NC-1 X-Wing
7. Voodoo 13(Gator Squadron) NC-1 X-Wing
8. Voodoo 14(Raguel Squadron) NC-1 X-Wing

ATTACK/HIGH-SPEED INTERCEPTION

1. Voodoo 15(Beak Squadron) RZ-3 A-Wing interceptor
2. Voodoo 16(Jok Squadron) RZ-3 A-Wing interceptor
3. Voodoo 17(Kers Squadron) RZ-3 A-Wing interceptor
4. Voodoo 18(Requital Squadron) RZ-3 A-Wing interceptor
5. Voodoo 19(Scimitar Squadron) RZ-3 A-Wing interceptor

BOMBERS W ESCORT

1. Voodoo 20(Que Squadron) Telepath-III strategic bomber
2. Voodoo 21(M'lud Squadron) Telepath-III strategic bomber
3. Voodoo 22(Gatto Squadron) Telepath-III strategic bomber
4. Voodoo 23(Vulcano Squadron) Gregale-class Heavy Fighter

SUPPORT/TRANSPORTS

1. Voodoo 24(Bulwark Squadron) Cherub Gunship
2. Voodoo 25(Artillery Squadron) Cherub Gunship
3. Voodoo 26(Ferret Squadron)Cherub Transport
4. Voodoo 27(Ferret II Squadron)Cherub Transport
5. Voodoo 28(Ferret III Squadron)Cherub Transport

Spoiler: ETHEREAL MARINES

Seraphim Marines
Cherub Troop Transport
Cherub Gunship
Saraquael Fighting Vehicles

Spoiler: ANGELLUS LORE

Is here.

ORDERS: Enter Sev Tok System
WINGMATES: Mig Gred Liedran Kathause Gir Quee

"Dropping out of hyperspace in 3...2...1... and drop."

As the drop officer called out the status, the ship lurched to a slow crawl, so to speak, in the familiar manner that is dropping out of hyperspace. The ships brought with "The Ethereal" were nowhere near as many as Liram would have liked, but more would be on the way, if necessary, this was just the best that could be mustered right then and there. The trip was shorter than he was expecting it to be, but that surprise was left by the wayside as the veritable warzone was in front of them.

"Status report!"

"Conn-Sensors, we have Alliance ships in the area, we have Mandalorian ships as well."

"Mandalorian?" Halpern asked.

"There's now a subset of them within the Concord, I guess. I don't know." A frustrated shrug was swept away as he saw the Sensor officer looking his way about to call him out. "Sensor-Conn... continue."

"Sir. The Bryn ships... the situation seems to be resolved. What looks to be their flagship is... wait."

There it is. As he thought to himself, walking over to the Sensor station. Sure enough, the Epitaph was going down in flames, but going down over the city of Anvil? They were going down in somewhat of a "false flag" move as if luring the enemy into a false sense of security. There is ...

"That's The Midnight Darkest."

"He's going to... he's going to ram the Bryn ship! Helm-Conn... move us in!"

"Flight Control, get all of our birds in the air. Intersecting flight patterns. Tactical-Conn... Firing solutions."

"Engineering-Conn... prep us for atmospheric entry."

"Just in case?" The Chief Engineer asked.

"Just in case."

Lt. Colonel Telaksta walked onto the bridge, she was not a Bridge officer, but Liram didn't care. She was efficient and ready to fight at a moment's notice and that is what mattered.

"Conn-Commo... 'The Annunaki' is requesting permission to dock and board, also 'The Midnight Darkest' is sounding general evacuation."

"Granted. Tell the commander I will meet with him in my office. Also, prepare the crew to take on any of 'The Midnight's' survivors." Halpern took the lead on this, Angellus had enough to worry about.

"What's the situation, sir?" The Marine asked.

"They're either expecting us to roll over in fear, or be so jumpy that we'll over-commit. We're not going to give them that option."

"Have something in mind?" She smirked devilishly, asking.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

Spoiler: Battlegroup

• Jambiya-class pocket interdictor carrier "Whirlpool"
• Hardcell-X-class anti-starfighter frigate
• Skor-class Monitor Frigate "Bowyer"
• 2x Squadrons Sirocco-class Assault Fighter

 

[Dagon Kaze]

NEW JEDI ORDER | GALACTIC ALLIANCE | EN-ROUTE TO SEV TOK
burning as the day is long, trying to find a way

A few star systems away,
aboard a heavily modified freighter

“It’s not Sev Tok and Kashyyyk that you’re most worried about, is it?”

He felt his chest tighten, she had seen through it. Not that he was actively trying to conceal it or anything; Dagon had told her of his homeworld, Ruusan, and noticing its location on the nav-map would quickly lead to a logical assumption to the reason of his distress. To him the battle of Sev Tok was far more than just duty, far beyond any dogmatic teaching, far beyond the canons of the Light and his responsibilities as a Jedi.

To him it was personal.

“I know what’s at stake, Dag. They hurt my sisters, nearly killed me on Nar Kreeta. I’ve seen firsthand what they’re capable of.”

And so it was to her, as well.

And maybe to everyone that now bled on the soil of the distant world they traversed to relief the last stand. The last barrier erected by the Silvers against the forces of evil.

But why was Yula the rock of composure now? Why was he the one shaken? It seemed, until now, that role consistently befell on him - to be the one to stare fear in the eye defiantly and make it cower. He didn't need to search long to find the answer; one look into her green eyes and he knew. The crippling fear of Ossus, where he had lost Ayana, resurfaced in the shape of the Zeltron squeezing his shoulder. The past converging with the future in an endless cycle of suffering tethered to eternity. Someone had told him that time was a flat circle; everything that has happened or will happen is bound to happen over and over and over again - forever.

“Don’t catastrophize. I—Sev Tok needs you to keep your head in the here and now. Focus on today, don’t get caught up in the what if’s or you’ll fall down a rabbit hole so deep that you won’t come out. And I refuse to stop by the nearest system once a year to light a candle for you.”

Dagon's hand reached for hers and squeezed it, the motion almost delirious, guided by his heart rather than his mind. Courage, emboldened by the touch, by the link forming between the two, kindled the fading cinders into a rising flame. Colors resurfaced on his face, slowly but surely cracking the pallid mask woven on his features. The tension on his shoulders abated, the flailing nerves of straw turned to steel and Dagon pulled away from the asphyxiating hold of the what ifs.

A curt nod broke the long, silent gaze between the two, "I'm here." he affirmed, conviction surged in his voice, then his grasp of her hand tightened reassuringly, "We'll see through this..."

".. together."

No matter what.

ALLIES | GA | NJO | SJC | Yula Perl
ENEMIES | BRYN'ADUL | PICKLE, IM COMING

 

[Saaveina]

B R E A T H E
Q U E E N O F S W O R D S
NIV 'ANTARES DRACO'
Rurik Fel Hans Rennagen Paz Koon

​

Familiar, was she to the call of duty. It mattered not the time or place, the circumstance, or the maw of the beast she was to face, the call was one she would never turn away from. Her cloak and dagger excursions had been put on hold with her deployment to this grand vessel and her daily life disrupted once more as the stench of Darkness crept from the edges of the galaxy to sow discordant seeds into the order she sought to restore. A knock upon the door of her temporary quarters had disturbed the silent rhythms of her meditative breaths and the gentle rumblings of The Force as it swelled about her shoulders and eased her tension with each ebb and flow.

"We've received word from the Lord Executor, prepare for battle." The faceless voice spoke with urgency, so much so the codru-ji opened her amber eyes to the void of space beyond the window she sat before, and nodded.

"So shall it be." She stated with certainty, unfurling the arms nested in her lap to aid in her rise. It was then she fixed her attention on the corporal who had notified her. "Thank you."

Hurried footfalls carried him from her door and down the hall.

Saaveina expelled the final breath she had gathered before the interruption and turned herself about, roving to the display tucked into the wall where her white and gold armaments lay. A somber pause saw her hand pressed against her scarred, battle-worn chestguard, tracing the edges over every mark which had been foreseen and commanded to be; each one a tale of her toil and triumph. The weight she bore with her pride on her sleeve, brandishing her resolve as a weapon for an enduring crusade that would outlast her lifetime. In the face of such things perhaps there was nihilism to be gleaned, but she found nothing of the sort.

Such a long-lived cause asked for a steely dedication to fight for it.

One she had forged and tempered in the blood of her own harvest.

"Galavant into the breach, children of Iron..." she hummed quietly as she drew her chestguard from its mount and hefted it over her shoulders with her uppermost arms, "and banish what would shroud our Sun."

Minutes after her summons saw the woman's somber march to the bridge, suited in her gleaming armor and clutching her helmet betwixt her lower hands. She dipped her head in greeting to her peers and turned her focus towards the Lord Executor, bowing much lower in silence before him. Soon after her gaze leveled expectantly, and though she said nothing, she became the monolith of steadiness in the room.​

 

[Aien Mueller]

You know those types you don't want to meet in a dark alley?​

Spoiler: LOADOUT(unless missions specific):

Armor - "Apostle" armor(all),
Weapons (team)- T-73 Handgun, Combat Knife, FTB Rocket(2 FYB Rockets each, 3 with Flame Carpet warhead)
3 Grenades (each), 2 Fire Grenadess (each)
(Snipers)- M-14 Sniper Rifle, Wrist Blaster, Carbine
(Assault)- RI-17 Assault Rifle-w-LPD53 Grenade Launcher(5 FYB 40mm grenades each), T-73 Handgun
(Heavy Weapons)- Minigun(if in the field), Defender-Automatic Weapon(if in CQC) Assault Rifle

Spoiler: FIRE TEAMS

GOLD TEAM: Azrael(Assault/Team leader), Castiel(Asault/Pathfinder)
BLUE TEAM: Sauriel(Sniper 1), Samael(Heavy Weapons), Michael(Sniper 2)
RED TEAM: Gabriel(Demo/EOD), Bartleby(Tech/Team Second)

Spoiler: TRANSPORT TEAM

PEGASUS 1, HAAT 1- Jeremiel(Pilot), Barachiel(Weapons)
PEGASUS 2, HAAT 2- Ariel(Pilot), Uriel(Weapons)
PEGASUS 3, HAAT 3(Carry-all variant)- Barachiel(Pilot)*
HAAT 4(Carry-all variant)- Uriel(Pilot)*
*When needed. Weapons Intercept officers will be assigned randomly

Spoiler: GROUND ASSAULT/INFIL/EXFIL

FIST
RONTO 1- Raguel(Driver), Selaphiel(Gunner), Jegudiel(Cover)

Spoiler: ANNUNAKI

Ship Captain/Teams Overwatch - Metotron
Ship Engineer/Tech/Teams Overwatch - Jophiel
Ship Corpsman - Raphael
Ship Pilot(s)/Gunner(s) - Chamuel, Jeremiel, Barachiel, Ariel, Uriel

ORDERS: Kark Things up
Tag: Thirdas Heavenshield Beltran Rarr Kranak Vizsla (everyone I am unfortunately missing)

Yeah, they all had heard what he said. Rarr said to "not let this be another Ossus..."

It would be easy to explain that none of them were happy, but that would be a bit redundant.

Let me shoot him...

No, me!

That Karker blames us for Ossus!

I have a charge with his name on it.

Absolutely no call for his actions. He's supposed to be a 'Colonel'.

That's enough, all of you. If anyone is going to hit him, it's going to be...

None of you. He doesn't blame any of you for what happened. He blames me... and if he has an issue with you, he will have an issue with me.

Putting the link back onto Bartleby's pack, Azrael checked his weapon as Gabriel was checking the explosives that he had set at the entrance. The blast doors were encased in an extra layer of durasteel built in a "U" shaped fashion. The charge he dropped into both of the casings was soon being covered with water. The effect would direct all of the explosive force into one direction... the opposite one. The rest of the team were doing weapons and gear checks before making their move. They could see the ship falling from the sky, but it was clearly moving, and not simply 'falling' this was a plan of theirs. It also meant that there needed to be more set up in place, but several were still fuming about what just happened.

They were angry about what happened at Ossus too, no operator, so soldier, no one wants to leave a brother or sister behind. None of them like the fact that people died over Ossus, but they all realize that this is the price that you can pay when you volunteer for service. While none of them know how many Paladin was lost, those who survived were there to carry on. "Peter", "Paul", "John" and the original "Gabriel" were lost protecting wounded Jedi, Omega could have made it out safely if they didn't stay to help, they stayed, friends died. Are the Jedi to blame? No, everyone made their choice. Even Azrael, who does blame himself for losing people is not to blame.

This was an issue for later though.

Weapons check.

Check,

Good.

Good to go.

Yep.

Boom, baby.

Let's torch some seafood.

Slinging the rifle over his back, Azrael closed the mask on his helmet and looked at each man. He knew their strengths, he knew their weaknesses, they were the perfect team to him because they complemented each other and picked up where each other needed it. They were not the fabled "Antarian Rangers", but to him, that was all the better because they still did the work and got the hard jobs without having advantages like The Force. Even the "Ronto" team was listening.

The battle we are about to fight is just for the strong; it is for the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, brothers and sisters, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Sarka! The war is here -- and let it come! I repeat, let.it.come!

It is in vain, to extenuate the matter. Some out there may cry, "Peace! Peace!" -- but there is no peace, there never will be. The war is here! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brothers and sisters are already in the field! We won't stand idle, we will do what we do best. What is it that naysayers wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? I say thee nay. By whatever god you pray to! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, I will die on my feet before I live on my knees!

He didn't like speeches, but this needed to be said. They needed something that would get them going and it seemed to work. The Ronto team was fired up and their orders were clear, they were going to remain in the area for fire support, them as well as the HAATs in the air. The rest of them were moving. They had traps to set. Michael, his wife was Sarkan, this is personal for him. Sauriel's family was already evacuated from Sev Tok, he knows what is at stake here. They were not friends, they were all 'family', even the "new guys" and an attack on one of them was an attack on all of them. While this was sometimes a hindrance as the emotions in your head could overcome you, they were professional and would not fail.

They had a fight to win.

... yeah, we scare them.

 

[Varn Barakis]

Location: Drop Ship bound for Anvil, Sev Tok
Tags: Jax Thio Aayla Shan Jairdain Liedran Kathause Mig Gred

Varn smiled at Jax, the glint in his eyes failing to mirror the expression. "Sticks and stones, my friend. Sticks and stones." The ship jolted slightly as something happened outside. Leaning back in his seat, Varn let his eyelids close as the ship began to move. At first, the vibrations racking the ship were minute, barely noticeable. Their was a dull hum outside as the ship jolted once more, and then they were away, the Pegasus squarely in their rearview. A part of Varn wondered if he'd ever see the ship again, another didn't care.

He had come to terms with his mortality a long time ago. What happened, happened. You couldn't fight fate.

It wasn't long before they broke Sev Tok's atmosphere. The viewports burned a blinding white as the drop ship descended, the rattle and shake somehow lulling the Jedi into a short sleep. When he woke, they were approaching Anvil. Twisting in his seat, Varn looked out at the world around them. He couldn't see much. The land below was as dark as the skies above, the smattering of man-made lights failing to compete with the infinite sea of stars that burned endlessly, way up high. Amongst those lights below was Anvil. Brighter than the rest, it stood out like a sore thumb in the night. The knight stared at it for a time, trying to picture the forces that would soon clash there. Then, the ship shifted, snatching it from view.

An alert chimed, letting him know he could stand without being thrown about like a ragdoll. Varn took the opportunity to stretch his legs.

"Three minutes!" The pilot's voice announced over the drop ship's onboard speakers. Three minutes 'til they touched down. Or could. Looking around for Jax, Varn eyed his brother-in-arms as the man approached the cockpit. Going to let the pilot know where to go, Varn figured. That was fair enough. Turning in the opposite direction, the knight made his way to the ramp down which they would soon pour. "Open it." He told the loadmaster who was waiting nearby. The nondescript armor they wore left him wondering whether it was a man or woman he was speaking to. Either way, the ramp soon dropped. Varn planted his feet out of instinct.

The world outside was freezing. The cold wind set the Jedi's cloak billowing behind him as it roared in through the breach and for a moment -one single moment- Varn considered asking the humanoid man-woman to close the damn thing back up. He decided against it.

Taking a few steps towards the edge, Varn watched as the world in front of his eyes slanted slightly, before correcting itself. In the dark, cloud-silvered sky, a ship burned. The Epitaph. The enemy. Varn couldn't help but focus on the object of all their fears as it hurtled toward Anvil, trailing smoke and fire as AA rounds arced through the night. Little blooms of light marked those rounds striking home, but even so, they seemed to do little. All that mass, all that velocity; Varn doubted their was a thing in the Galaxy that could've stopped it now.

Frowning, Varn couldn't help but hold a grudging respect for the Captain of that ship. Using it as a sort of makeshift battering ram against the Shield was either an act of genius or a sign of madness. He had his suspicions. They weren't comforting.

Turning away, the ship shivered again as Varn walked back down to stand by Jax, his face stony, calm. He liked to think it was the face of a warrior. Maybe it was at that. Otherwise, he just looked silly. "What's the play? Are we landing or are we maintaining altitude until the Bryn' do?" Crash landing was still landing. And it was a valid question. They had maybe a minute, two, before the decision was made for them.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

STANDOFF
​

Phase One
Location: Aboard the Epitaph
Allies: Hrajlmak'Natok | Osam | Primarch Drek'ma | Ostak Cl'mana | Udomek Seker | Ostak Cl'mana | Quoron Ver'dum | Galak | Sylok'Vanari | Gordrak | Kelmor | Kyrim Tenebris |
Enemies: TBD
Axe | Gauntlet | Armour |
Forces: 2000 Juggernaut Ultras | 4 Reavers | 24 Ra'maks

The Titan watched as the shield evaporated around them, ready to move in to the city. They had only just managed to survive the attack from the fleet, and now with the shield down there was a clear path to the city shield. A feeling of relief washed over Tathra, his hands easing on the controls as he began to prepare for the fight below. They didn't know much on the terrain, just that it was urban and filled with wide open spaces. Tathra turned to Gordrak, giving him a nod to return to his stations in the deployment barracks. Soon he would join them, or so he thought. But that was not to be the decision laid before him now, instead another obstacle revealed itself to stand in their way.

A Concord ship, roughly half the size of their own now peered through the city-shield to face them head on before they could reach it. He recognised the ship from the composition of the fleet that typically followed the Emerald Undertow. Tathra rested his palms against the Mind Stones, his fortitude bolstered by the power of the Ashaka and the great Seer Kalanthir, the Titan felt bold. It was time to demonstrate how this battle would play out. With a thought shared, the Aritficers on the bridge worked in cohesion to bring the drill at the bottom of the Epitaph online, burning hot with plasma cutters as the two ships darted toward each other threw the sky. The red claxons blared red and yellow throughout the ship as they braced for impact. Tathra chewed on his lip as they drew closer to one another, staring down the Darkest, he wouldn't blink first. Rather, he'd go right through them. The automated firing measures of the Concord shup rippled against the face of the Epitaph's heavily plated exterior, tearing pocket holes into its surface before they collided. The Epitaph rocked in the air as the Errindak within gave the ship full forward thrust as the drill chewed through the face of the Concord ship, nearly splitting it in half as it's self-destruct activated in a split-second, shrouding the face of the Epitaph in plasmatic flame as the teeth of the Epitaphs drill were melted away in the chaos along with segments of its lower-halves redundant plating, losing nearly half of its initial momentum and speed in the process. The Warship itself rocketing downward through the remains of the Concord vessel, some of the crew of the bridge thrown from their stations.

Tathra remained statuesque overseeing the command, unmoving as he held himself in place. The Epitaph began to push through the city shield, losing a sixth of its speed as it pierced through the blue veil. It wasn't over yet. The looming ship engaged its front-facing thruster; slowing itself as it came down into the city. Their sensors were now able to properly read what was going on inside the city, standard Concordian defences. It seemed as though they had placed a majority of their defences around the main gates of the city.

The Titan scoffed. "You Humans and your walls." The words echoed his disdain.

The Epitaph finally landed in the city, cracking the earth beneath it with a hundred metre crater in a circumference around its landed position. Again and again the humans proved to be the apes they acted like. Primitive creatures who never understand it wasn't just another man coming in the night for them. They were Bryn'adûl, they were strength. They did not adhere to the base and ignorant tactical conventions of the rest of this limited and naïve Galaxy. Their walls meant nothing, their cries would mean nothing. Every death of a child, the horror of every sorrowful mother. The blood was on their hands. This would be the price paid for their weakness. First Sev Tok, then the real prize. Kashyyk. But they had a battle to win first.

"Artificers, system report." Tathra called out across the bridge.

"Chieftain! Systems nominal. The Quilxyn will need a short time to rest, forces are ready to deploy!"

"When the Quilxyn are ready, you know what must be done." With that said, Tathra marched across the bridge to the elevator, moving down into the ships core, its deployment barracks.

As Tathra entered, the Juggernaut Ultra's began to chant.

"Tathra! Hoo! Hoo!"

Repeating the call to their master again and again as he stalked the edge of the raised platform. His warriors would be the first to push through the maw of whatever waited beyond the massive deployment doors. This was it, as soon as he stepped foot down there on the infantry platforms there was no turning back. The battle would begin in full and the chaos and the bloodshed would only cease when one side fell completely. The blaster fire of the immediate militia defenders beat against it like a drum, it called him to them, to rush out into the battlefield and face them head on. He would answer that call, making his way down to the front of the infantry platform ahead of the Ultra's, he would not call upon the Dreddikkast yet - no. He would fight alongside his brethren until they gained a stronger foothold beyond the warship. Aureate eyes looked up at the massive deployment doors, rising up into the shadowy innards of the ship. They could not wait inside the Epitaph forever, now the test of strength would begin. With a thought, the Kraemonen translated his command through the ship, the massive deployment doors were close to six-hundred metres tall; the face of the Epitaph opened as long slates of metal rose on either side of the ships exterior like metal mandibles.

"Until the sun rises. We fight."

The cold air gushed in to the ship, ice cold. They had expected as much, he could smell the meddling of the Jedi. They had performed similar feats at the battle of Yurb. No matter. Ahead of them a line of Hive Bombers sat on the edge of the extending ramp of the Epitaph's infantry pay, crashing into the open ground beneath as the bombers began to hatch. Six of them, all at once exploding to create a black cloud of Sun Quaker ink in a three kilometre burst outward from the Epitaph itself. Eyes of red and gold peered out from the black toward the nearby militia.

The Titan raised his Axe over his head, marching forward as the defenders blaster fire came crackling down into the clouds of ash and smoke now intertwining with the black ink clouds surrounding their landing zone. The Ultra Juggernauts stood two-thousand strong as a column of black and crimson at Tathra's back, marching forward down the massive ramp. Their personal shielding and armour making the cold much easier for them to resist than the others, but even they felt the immediate sting of the freezing cold temperature. It made it harder to move, to concentrate. But all the same, they would push through.

Strength through unity overcame anything.

On either side of the Ultra's were two Reavers, moving out to align themselves along defensive angles around the Epitaph and the deployment of their entire force. The massive kaiju monsters were ready to utilise their magnetic blasts to defend against enemy artillery. Overhead, three squadrons of Ra'mak war beasts would begin to unleash maelstroms of tri-beam plasmatic fire into the militia.

Tathra raised his gauntlet, using the mind stone once more to speak to all of their forces; "Forward warriors, and fear not pain nor death!"

 

[Osam]

Spoiler: Personal Equipment

Barad Assault Carbine
Pulverizer
Zealot's Barad Kukri
Verikast Model A Drone Armor
T120 Burner Missile Launcher - Carried by Squadmate
Sun Quaker Toxin Grenade x2

Spoiler: Combat Forces

Squad A (12) - Osam's Personal Squad

• 9 Risen Sraelvun Veterans
• 1 Risen Sraelvun Veteran Grenadier
• 1 Risen Sraelvun Marksman
• 1 Quilxyn Protector

Squad B (13) Juggernaut Support

• 9 Juggernaut Minors
• 1 Juggernaut Grenadier
• 1 Juggernaut Heavy
• 1 Juggernaut Major
• 1 Quilxyn Protector

Squad C (22) Beast Support

• 3 Shamans
• 12 Arevallicar Syphons
• 1 Quilxyn Protector
• 2 Brumaks
• 4 Rhivaks

Squad D (30) Logistics and Reserves
-20 Akhenaton Combat Engineers
-10 Vaydralen Centurion Vandal Reservists

Enemies: Zephyr Krayt

---

There was always an unnerving sensation that wrought through the body when involved in a rapid landing. While Osam had participated in countless battles he had never become completely attuned to the sensation of sudden extreme downward movement. The vessel had its own inner gravity, and so none of those warriors around him flew in this direction or that one, but the turbulence was immense, and the freshly minted Warlord found himself grasping at whatever protrusions could be found on the nearest walls in an attempt at maintaining his stable position.

Of all of the units under his direct command, the beasts seemed to have the worst time of maintaining their composure during the fall. Each of them emitted wretched sounds of irritation and discomfort as they fought against the turbulence to keep steady, the Shamans doing whatever was in their power to keep them calm and stationary so that they would be able to deploy quickly. The hybrid glanced towards the insectoid Akhenaton as they maneuvered around one another in preparation.

"Akhenaton. Keep everyone upright." He commanded to them with a shout, observing as the insectoids immediately took to their new work. Blessed with a tremendous strength that exceeded even that of the Baedurin, and granted with an innate talent for cooperation and communication, they were quick to break themselves into pairs which dispersed themselves throughout the various bands of warriors, ensuring that those about to stumble would be caught and placed back onto their feet. It was another testament to their worth - albeit a minor one, but it made Osam proud to see them perform their duties without question and with some efficacy.

The turbulence might have been less severe were it not for the continued pressure being mounted upon them by the Concord naval forces and their allies. While he was in no position to observe the annihilation of the Kraemonen support craft, word of it did reach him, and he could see that there was a somewhat somber mood that very briefly passed over his Shamans. Perhaps they had felt the life-force drain out of the Kraemonen, even from within the boundaries of the hull. It was difficult to ascertain what they felt whenever one of their brethren fell, whether Draelvasier or otherwise.

Whatever mood might have distinguished itself, however, was quickly dissipated by the presence of fervor and righteous indignation over the loss of their kindred at the hands of the savage Concord. Osam himself wondered how much of what he felt was his own vengeance-filled heart and how much of it was being pressured into his mind by the Ashaka and their many Weavers. Perhaps one of the greatest advantages to falling from orbit was the heat generated by their continued acceleration. He could feel some portion of the warmth seeping into the walls of the vessel whenever he pressed his hand against them, though they were thick enough to block out a vast majority of this heat. Nevertheless, it would prove to be a welcome sensation when they had landed in what was destined to become a very chill environment.

The sudden noise of klaxons and the flashing of red and yellow luminescence throughout the vessel made it clear that they were nearing their final impact, and yet, Osam felt certain that it should have taken them a few moments longer. There was no way for him to peer outside of the vessel from among his infantry, but he sincerely wished that he could observe the situation around him. His stomach jumped into his chest as they made impact, the sudden tumultuous movement forcing his organs upwards inside of his body, and nearly hurtling him off of his feet. A stiff-legged Akhenaton caught him by his shoulder and sternly planted him back into the ground, and he gave a nod of thanks as the wave of tremendous force subsided.

Falling was far smoother now that they had made an impact with the shield proper, and the descent had slowed rather considerably as a result. They must certainly have impacted against some manner of defensive structure or perhaps another vessel before they had reached the shield, Osam surmised. While the infantry bays appeared to have been kept primarily intact, he questioned whether the lower sections of the mighty Epitaph had suffered damage - perhaps they had lost brethren in the ensuing collision, but it would be impossible to tell for certain until the battle had concluded in its totality and the tally had been taken of those alive and dead.

The massive deployment doors began to open - elsewhere, he was certain that he could hear the engines of gunboats as they went online and shot out towards their many targets. The Titan and his forces began their mighty deployment from one side of the fallen Epitaph, and Osam rallied together his own warriors, sending them marching outside of the ship in order to join the battle beyond. The air struck him the moment he was outside - the frigid temperatures causing him to curl his toes and his fingers. He had known it would be chilly, but he had expected that it would be a matter of perseverence. He saw now the futility in thinking something as insubstantial as vengeance would keep him warm... it remained, but he would require something else for that.

The Quilxyn Protector sensed the distress of its overseer, the link in the mindstone he possessed with it allowing it to chase after him. The soothing warmth of its energy shields promptly sated the hybrid and the Baedurin warriors who accompanied him. The others would survive without warming for now, but... it was vital that both he and the Juggernauts retain their heat during the ensuing conflict.

A vague scent of Sun Quaker ink caught his attention as the wind wafted the fragrance to him and his troops finished dismounting into the city proper, returning fire at the few nearby militia who happened to be caught in the blast radius of the Epitaph and who had survived its impact.

It seemed that the Bryn'adul would tonight make true the phrase that it was "always darkest before the dawn".

 

[Crosten Feyn]

Objective 1: Defend the city

Allies: Jax Thio Aayla Shan Liedran Kathause Varn Barakis Beltran Rarr Jairdain Commander Kren Aien Mueller Mig Gred Subject 73 Red Thirdas Heavenshield

---

“Gotcha; I’ll take the clones and get to the guns.” He replied, determined to do what would be needed. That said, the notion of a bunch of clones still hardly sat sit too well with him; maybe it was apt to be offput by a bunch of men who looked the same and sounded the same. Their unquestioning, unwavering loyalty too was oddly discomforting; valuable as it was to have right now. The situation was dire though, and despite his qualms the clearly and dearly needed the assistance.

Maybe it was best Crosten took command of them; most of the others shared his reservations, but Crosten was used to breaking rules. A chosen career as a smuggler had seem him do so plenty, though he was usually breaking rules he didn’t like. Here before him however, was a dire situation he liked even less, and no advantage they could wield could be ignored. The clone army was here, and it was theirs. Now was the time to field them.

“Clone Leader, this is Crosten. I need you to organize at the AA cannons; take a defensive formation and ensure the enemy cannot seize it.” He barked the order into the comms, speaking the orders direct and straightforward. He was still getting used to the idea of being in command of something; leadership was a strange thing, at least in crews greater than the handful required to operate a small smuggling starship.

“I’ll be there shortly; await my presence” he concluded, getting an acknowledgement from the clone on the other end before shutting the comms off and giving his gear one last check over. Any other concerns he had needed to be put aside for now; philosophizing over the ethics of free will could be had after. Right now, there were greater and more immediate issues Crosten set off to resolve.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

STANDOFF
​

PHASE ONE
Location: Aboard the Epitaph
Allies: Sylok'Vanari | Ostak Cl'mana | Galak | Osam | Sethrak | Hrajlmak'Natok | Tathra Khaeus |
Enemies: TBD
Stave | Cuirass
Forces: Draeyde, Rhivaks, Siege Towers, Superior Draeyde, Brumaks

The Primarch breathed a sigh of relief as the Ashaka known as Sylok fought and won, allowing them safe passage through the miasma of enemy ships and down into the atmosphere of the planet. The hardest part for the Ashaka was done, now it was time to prepare for the next phase of their attack. But what came next was equally as tumultuous, he felt the adrenaline of the Titan as beyond the safe innards of the Epitaph the two ships clashed, manifesting a huge wave of fire that craned over the edges of the blue shield as the Epitaph pushed through to land.

"Well done, Sylok. Now, if you will excuse me, I have duties to attend to." The Primarch made his way back to the elevator, on his way to the infantry bays of the Epitaph to stand alongside his fellow Shamans when the blaring claxons began their call for impact. He had no choice, bracing himself with his staff inside of the elevator as the warship crashed into the city. The entire ship shook and the elevator came to a halt.

He was lucky rather that it didn't drop into a freefall. His eyes shifted round him, seeing the torn ligaments of the Kraemonen controlling the elevator. He was stuck. No obstacle, but a nuisance indeed. He brought his Stave close to his chest, chin digging into his neck as he summoned the cosmic force around him. Time and space waned upon his command as the fabrics became subjective. In a splash of white light, Drek'ma had teleported down below to the side of Ostak and the other Shaman in the infantry bay. He rubbed down his shoulders, nodding to the Beast Master as the Titan stood at the head of the Ultra horde.

Beyond that door, even Drek'ma could feel the countless numbers of enemies beyond it. Concord or militia, there were thousands of them. Two-hundred thousand, that made for twenty thousand per kilometre, something close to two-hundred per metre. The numbers were outrageous, even spread thin they stood in hundreds for every square inch of ground that needed to be taken. His focus shifted to the Servitors, how they hungered for destruction, he could feel it, radiating from the depths of their empty stomachs.

The bay doors opened, and the cold chill of the Sev Tok weather gushed into the Epitaph, the Quilxyn Protectors immediately tending to the pained Baedurin. But even so the Bryn'adûl did not hide as the Hive Bombers began to unleash the sun Quaker ink. The Draeyde within, were under his command. The Primarch's mind went dark as he called upon the Draeyde, a total of five-thousand and four hundred blasted out from the Hive Bombers ahead of their initial force. The black ink fog obscured any sign of their approach as the thousands of miniscule bats collided with the first wave of the un-expecting militia infantry. Flickers of the horrors would be perceivable to any close as fountains of red soured through into the crater, filling it with blood as sporadic and panicked blaster bolts would fill the sky, mulched meat left behind.

In the Epitaph, two Siege Towers manned by skeleton crews began to unfold from their cocoons, ready to fight. Alongside Galak and Sethrak's infantry, hundreds of Rhivaks and Brumaks were at the ready to fight under the joint command of Ostak and the Primarch. They would act as a conduit from which all the Shamans would drive their beast mastery into the vengeful bloodlust of their beasts. Every inch of the battlefield would need to be fought for, and they would strike with as much strength as they possessed.

"Shaman, show them the true nature of the force."

Drek'ma called the superior Draeyde to his side, the mutated creatures encircling him as he prepared to move onto the battlefield.

 

[Aurelian Sigismund]

✠ High Imperator of the Rim-Guard Order ✠

✠ Objective: I. Defend Anvil
✠ Location: Sev Tok, Anvil
✠ Gear: Armour, Lightsaber pike, Combat-Shield, DC-17, Gladius, Holotransmitter
✠ Assets: The Phalanx, Rim-Guard Cadres, Skytroopers, Dreadnought Wardroids
✠ Tag(s): open

⮚ THEME​

Ecthelion Aiglos had observed the battle unfold from the assault lander, the intended drop to the defences of the city was postponed because the Bryn'adûl decided not to fight a space battle, but instead intended the perfect example of an unconventional assault drop at the throat of their adversaries. It was flawless, a total surprise to the defenders and evading the outer defences. So instead of deploying to the city, Aiglos held his men back and waited, patience would show him where the monsters would expose their throat.

As the massive ship descended through the atmosphere and steered towards the city, tearing apart the foolishly brave Concord ship. Poor souls, brave souls but their sacrifice was in vein. The enemy did not intend to have a possibility to retreat, nor would a single ship stop the fall of the massive warship. As soon as the area of the fall could be determined, the landers set off from The Phalanx. The Rim-Guard Order moves to war.

Swift and fluently the assault landers moved through the atmosphere, piercing the cold night sky of Sev Tok as they approached their target from behind the mountains, directly heading for an area in the city not even half a kilometer away from the Epitaph. It was a district of factories and and industrial buildings at the edge of residential areas with a middle sized square. The landers, each transporting two cadres, landed around the square, on factory territory and some even on buildings themselves. The first wave had made planetfall.

✠ ✠ ✠​

The High Imperator jumped out of the lander, leading the troops into the first battle against the monsters of the Galaxy. The golden figures moved straight towards the epicenter of the battle, loud noises of screams, weapon discharges and explosions ringing from there. Squads of ten figures moved to secure the square and district on a front of roughly three hundred meters, more than two-hundred-fifty paladins approached the enemy.

"Fire on sight, beware of civilians, coordinate with local troops. Send the second wave."

Aiglos voice echoed through the com-channels of the Rim-Guard and would be heard on The Phalanx as well, the second wave already preparing their departure, Skytroopers and Wardroids were making ready to get into their dropships while the majority of the paladins waited for their deployment order.

"Imperator Aiglos for all allied forces, we are deploying at the flank of the approaching enemy, securing the factory district."

The golden figures of the Rim-Guard were moving down the streets, keeping close to the walls as they headed to the immediate frontline. Aiglos moved at the front of the cadre, steadily walking forward with his shield up. They were golden and red, there was no hiding, but there was no need to hide. Occasionally a civilian moved in their house, closing windows or running past them. Suddenly an explosion erupted in the next street, out of view around a corner, followed by monstrous howl or scream, maybe a battlecry.

They moved around the corner and encountered the first Bryn'adûl.

"CONTACT!"
​

 

[Hrajlmak'Natok]

​

STANDOFF



​

OBJECTIVE: Phase 1
POST: 3
LOCATION: The Epitaph, Command Bridge
EQUIPMENT: Warlock's Armour | Battlestaff [Sig]
ALLIES: The Bryn'adul
ENEMIES: SJC
TAGS: Open
Forces:

Spoiler

• Drones [5,000]
• Rhivaks [200]
• Brumaks [300]
• Vaydralen [2,000]
• Warlocks [6]
• Warlock Field-Masters [2]
• Servitor [3]

________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Epitaph shuddered and groaned against the monumental stress of point-defense and brutal planetary entry. Hrajlmak's eyes studied the massive walls of the infantry bay with unease. Outside, what wind didn't find itself directly in front of the massive ship whipped past at blinding speed. There was no stopping this meteor now. The golden sheen across its outer layers flickered and faded into nothing as it came screaming towards Anvil's shield. An impact that took all occupants by surprise sent Hrajlmak lurching into the rail. The crowd below the balcony thrown in every direction, hastily returned to order by the winged Akhenaton. Hrajlmak straightened himself and vaulted the balcony, soon breaking into a sprint to rendezvous with his own infantry detachment.

The Epitaph made its entry with the grace of a force of nature. The moment the falling stopped, the warriors of the Bryn'adul erupted in thunderous, tribal uproar. They had survived the one leg of the journey they had no control over. Now, they were faced with battle. And each one, from the imposing Juggernaut Ultras down to the Sraelvun Drones, felt in their hearts and minds that that was what they controlled. Individually, they were the gears of the galaxy's most feared war-machine. Collectively, they were the God of war. They were a single mind, held together by the mental prowess of the Bryn'adul's various Shamans and Warlocks.

The bay doors towered overhead. Hrajlmak stared down a mass of Rhivaks in front of him, flanked by two Beast-Masters; Xerx'ma and Surt'sey White-Eyes. All three were just as feverish as the next. Beyond the bay door stood an overwhelming force. Numbers none of the seasoned Warlocks had knowingly faced before. And it was this challenge that filled them with the most eagerness. The burning desire to leave the confines of the Epitaph and face down the thousands upon thousands of... "Weak flesh..." Hrajlmak muttered to himself. His eyes scanned the restless Rhivaks, his mind kept them subdued. "Weak flesh!" he roared. His heart beat out of his chest. He smacked his staff into the metallic floor, igniting the smoky red scythe from its head. A head fashioned in the ash and refuse of those the great conquest had snuffed out. He filled his lungs with air and screamed at the animals that met his gaze "WEAK FLESH!". The Rhivaks shared in the passion he conveyed telepathically, roaring in unison themselves. Behind them, an army of Drones five thousand strong chanted the words. Hrajlmak roared into the air, and as he did, the bay doors behind him hissed and began to slide open. The biting cold filled the deck, cooling the burning anger and violence Hrajlmak now felt gushing through his veins.

The second the doors were high enough, Hrajlmak silently ordered the move. Two hundred Rhivaks left the Epitaph at top speed, pouring out into the pitch-black fog. They spread out like a river flowing into open, empty space. Only this space was far from empty. Massive horns met a wall of flesh. The undisciplined and simple-minded Anvil militia had gathered in their great numbers in the city, only to be choked and disorientated by the release of the sun-quaker oil. Unable to see nor act, the storm of Rhivaks made short work of the flesh before them. They powered through oil and man until they emerged under Sev Tok's stars. So many timid humans in such a tightly packed numbers almost slowed their charge. Every subsequent line of the shock-cavalry trampled over a quickly growing mountain of mangled cadavers. Once the final line of Rhivaks came barreling out of the black fog, the heads of the formation turned in opposite directions, splitting down the middle in a large, curving maneuver that brought them back around to the Epitaph. The maneuver opened the way for the Drone army, following close behind, to punch through. Among them, Hrajlmak and his Warlocks. The foot-soldiers waded through the twitching, writing masses of flesh left behind by the Rhivak blitz, cleaning up what poor soldier dared to pick himself up from the pile. Slowly and in tight formation they made their way to the edge of the sun-quaker fog. Inside the Epitaph, Brumak artillery stood waiting in reserve. And deeper, coiled up in the belly of the ship, three Servitors waited patiently for their Field-Masters to release them.

 

[Sethrak]

Phase One


Post: 3

Before the Landing
​

The shaking had reached it's peak as the ship neared the ground level. Sethrak could hear the ground-to-air turrets firing, and he could feel the shots landing, pounding against the transport. He was still with his troops, ready to deploy within seconds of hitting the ground. If they hit the ground alive. Sethrak knew he shouldn't be as afraid as he was. The Ungoli Engineers knew what they were doing, and this ship was massive. It'd take a whole lotta firepower to break through the armor. He thought of Galak's words from moments before, about using his fear rather than hiding it. He knew that Galak was right. It was a lesson he had taught himself, but often failed to practice. It was easier to use pain, and anger, than fear.

He would try his best to ignore and accept the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He would contain it, and upon landing he would release it. It would be a burst of focus and energy to unleash upon his foes. He shook, not from the impact of shots hitting the ship, but from the anticipation. In The Force he felt the thoughts of those around him like bees swarming around a hive. Though each thought looked the same, and had the same job, the same destination, it was still chaos.

His thoughts escaped the chaos and found Tathra Khaeus. Here he felt relief, and realization. The Warlock put the pieces together and determined that The Titan was relieved that they would be landing soon.....

The Landing

Brace!​

The words were unspoken physically, instead sent through the communication stone in Sethrak's palm for all to hear. He lowered it, and braced himself. Within seconds a massive shockwave signaled that the ship had landed. For a moment there was peace. As if the large blast had been the last. It did not last long. The exit was open as Drael swarmed out by the hundreds.

The Lothal Guard would be one of the last to exit. The Warlord wished them well mentally, then sallied out of the ship with about 8,000 Drael of all kinds under his command. It was a sight to behold as the stampede of Draelvaiser sprinted out, trampling over foes living and dead. It was like a tidal wave hitting a rocky coast, but never receding back into the ocean.

Finally Sethrak reached the exit, elbow to elbow with two Baedurin on either side of him. As soon as he stepped out of the ship he felt the temperature change. It was cold here. Almost too cold for his Baedurin brothers in arms. For now the heat from the ship, and the close proximity to each other would keep them warm enough. It should pose no problem. As for the Aerevalin...they were highly resistant to the cold.

Sethrak was wearing armor today. He knew he would need it. For weaponry he had both a Val-Shae spear for the main fighting, and a Khukri if he should need a replacement.

Already he was dodging a few stray shots that had either been overshot, or somehow evaded the mass of targets that was The Drael formation so far. The amount of foes being sent to their deaths was impressive. Surely it was just in his head, put it felt as if they were piling on top of each other. The city was packed, like a field of grass, each blade being a Jedi or their allies.

Over their heads the flying beasts of war known as Draeyde were decimating the Jedi forces. The shaman were doing their part.

The Warlock wondered where the others that had been on the bridge with Tathra were now. Had they been struck down early in the chaos? Were they still waiting to get out of the transports? This was battle: Confusion, chaos, uncertainty, but also adrenaline and power. Only the strong survived, and that was the purpose of The Bryn'adul.

He was three steps out and already he was stepping over the dead and injured from both sides. Blasterfire flew over his head, explosions rocked the ground ahead. Not far from his position he saw several Jedi, distinguishable by their swords, which looked like white sticks in Sethrak's infrared vision. They would be his first kills of the long battle ahead.

He sprinted toward them, the energy from his fear finally unleashed. He counted five, there had been a sixth but a trio of Srael had made short work of her. The rest were all his....

 

[Arctus Silmar]

The Shaper

The Iron Crown|| Whilstone of Prowess|| Whilstone of Acuity || Whilstone of Power||
Empyrean Gland
Voice Sample

The Shaper idly wondered at how humorous it was a small cosmetic change, a lightsaber and an aura of light side energy could see one accepted with incredibly open arms. With his features altered, made more angular with his skin being given a false glow the Light was often known to give it's sycophants, and the cyan-hued blade grasped firmly in his hand that he himself had taken from the cold hands of a dead Jedi... he was almost the picture of hope and light the people of Anvil could expect to see guarding their homes, their lives. The power of the Sith Amulet about his neck turning what was normally the dark aura that clung to his person radiate outward like a beacon of light, even disguising the Whilstones as a simple silver circlet while allowing their own light to shine add the halo of energy that swept about his person.

As the single, massive ship of the Brynadul fell like a rock out of the heavens and approached Anvil's shield The Shaper couldn't help but note how much the Brynadul seemed to despise shielding technology. From the reports he had heard of their fleets, the grunts of their swarming armies, really they just seemed opposed to technology as a whole. Which was unavoidable really. As The Shaper was reminded of just how savage the creatures were. A brief fascination overtaking him as he watched the Brynadul forces tear through the untrained, hapless militia. Their screams of terror as they fled, uselessly flailing against their fate, made The Shaper pause. Holding back his lip curling in disgust and reminding himself that he was not in a position to correct these civilians for their failure. Swallowing down his instinctual reaction to quash their fear of these... imperfect creatures with fear of he and his wrath, instead The Shaper extended a hand. Reaching out to the Force The Shaper would idly glance behind him as a column of a dozen Balyeg Class Heavy Repulsor Tanks would begin to take up firing positions in front of himself and to cover the retreat of the surviving militia.

Nodding to himself The Shaper would manipulate the environment, in particular the air particles, to begin to separate and disperse the substance unleashed by the Brynadul craft. Every militia member he revealed he would then grip with the Force and pull up and out of harm's way. Of course he could not bring himself to try too hard for these people, being content to let his casual pace seem the limits of his efforts, while the Balyeg tanks would take the cue, used to fighting along Force-Users, and take aimed shots at any Rhivaks unveiled this way. Both with their main weapons as well as their warhead launchers. With roughly three dozen militia saved, and noting the encroaching number of drones funneling down the street he currently occupied, The Shaper would raise his other hand and, with a motion, exert a finely controlled expression of the Force. Nothing so taxing, as the turreted laser cannons began to open fire from his armored support, as to warrant drawing upon the Whilstone. No. Instead he scorned the practice of savages relying on propelled solid projectiles, even worse than blasters, and created a small but intense funnel of wind within the barrel of each assault carbine aimed at him. Thankfully all 5,000 drones were not going down one street. Clearly the Brynadul were improving their tactics and this allowed The Shaper to make aiming a ballistic projectile already at the mercy of aerodynamics nigh on impossible.

Raising his voice so that the militiamen could hear him The Shaper would address them sternly, hiding his utter disdain for their cowardice behind a fake veil of exertion on his current task. "Open fire you f-.... just... open fire!" Gathering themselves for a moment the militiamen hesitated, contemplating retreat, before one of them did as commanded and opened fire, followed by another, and another. Until a chorus of three dozen blaster rifles lashed out from behind the cover the tanks provided, as well as a dozen turreted blaster canons, singing out in defiance to the encroaching part of the horde. Amusement rising in The Shaper's mind as he gazed upon the Brynadul with only a single, disdainful thought coming to the surface. 'So uncivilized.....'

Engaging the forces of: Hrajlmak'Natok

Enemies: Brynadul at Large

Allies: SJC

Open to further engagement and joining

 

[Laertia Io]

The tactics of The Bryn'adul surprised many.

But they did not surprise Laertia. They had done the same thing at Sarka. The savages would just drop through the city shields and kill everything they landed on.

The defending forces against The Bryn'adul, even after all this time still didn't fully understand what they were up against.

These tactics, if any other factions used them, would have been universally condemned. But they didn't understand. The Bryn'adul cared nothing for convention. They didn't care about winning a public relations war. They didn't care about conquest, really.

All that mattered was utterly destroying all that which they viewed as weak, by any means necessary. And they had landed right in the city to do it, utterly bypassing most defenses.

They were in stabbing range of the very heart of Sev-Tok.

No one had developed any real counter to the worms as of yet or the oil they used to coat their ships, despite Xiphos having frantic research around the clock. She hoped Cyprian Ichar knew what he was talking about as she watched the Epitaph holding Tathra Khaeus crash into the city itself and the forces of Aurelian Sigismund moved to engage first.

"Beltran! They're in the heart of the city! They bypassed space defense!"

Xiphos watched as the ship released a deadly gas. Her Sons had reported a similar gas used at Sarka, had even acquired a few grenades containing it. Nine was still working round the clock to understand the biotech of The Bryn'adul, despite her being aghast at the company Xiphos was keeping.

They could not pick and choose allies against such a foe.

She watched as thousands exited the ship. A large contingent of her son's, having anticipated the Shield Penetration tactic had gone to the city to stem the tide. Using the Militia to soak up attacks, it bought the number of deadly Model 1's and Twos precious time to set up barricades and defenses.

Some of the Draeyde got the warm welcome first. The Model 1's, having studied these particular enemies in particular, unleashed air burst artillery fire, bursting and blowing up a hefty number, Others sniping at troops from concealed cover.

The bulky Model 2's went up against their first Rhivak, and two got severely damaged by a glancing blast from it's Ion-Plasma beam. But the thing went down in a hail of Concussion Rifle, Grenade and chaingun fire. The Warbots blew up a street that had a Rhivak charging through it, though some were immediately set upon by Juggernauts, and some of the Model 2's suffered their first casualties from both them and The Magnetic blasts.

Still others had drawn blood.

The Model 2's, equipped with Model 1 Disruptors, had been built specifically to kill Draelvasir.

They knew about their physiology and metal, having paid with the blood of erstwhile allies to discover them, knew the energy resistant property of their skin and metal.

The weapons mounted on them were calibrated to specifically damage and pierce those tissues, those metals, the weapons would kill almost anything in general that they were pointed at, but they had been geared to kill Draelvasir especially.

One Juggernaut cried out in surprise as his supposedly thick, sturdy armor, partly constructed of Verikast, was shredded, along with it's shields, after 007 shots. This Juggernaut, for context, had survived The Battle of Sarka, and knew the horror of being hit with a Model 1's T-007 Ion Disruptor.

The disruptor that had pierced his flesh, however, was a whole new kind of agony, specifically made to damage his kind of nervous system.

He was a warrior, and got a few more militia kills in, before one of them, armed with a Bio-Blaster
finally did him in blowing through his head. More militia had arrived, taking positions in the streets and buildings as directed by The Model 2's, each armed with the same Bio-Blaster.

They started to shoot center mass, with particular care aimed at organ placement. Still, it was a holding action, and the Assistance of Arctus Silmar and his tanks were appreciated, as The Model 2's coordinated the momentary holding action, feeding Rhivak positions to his units wirelessly. They could not hold them on their own, deadly though they were.

They were already killing the enemy though. And More militia were heading in the direction of Sethrak and Hrajlmak'Natok , despite the heavy losses, though they were being directed to hang back and assist partly from the rear of the streets, The Model 1's mainly targeting the swarms in the air, to lighten the effects on infantry, The Model 2's however, targeted soldiers, their Verikast and Malabast Piercing weaponry starting to punch through very tough armors, but refusing so far to try and get closer to the rampaging hoard until they didn't have a choice, coordinating militia fire like it was a rain storm on enemy units...

Xiphos activated her blades.

"Fight!" She yelled at the Militia directing more of her son's movements through technopathy. "Fight like there is no tomorrow... because there won't be if they win today!"

 

[Mig Gred]

Forces: 1st MIL Battalion "Netherhounds", 1st Armored Platoon "Wraith Division"
Equipment: In bio
Tags:
Allies Jax Thio Aayla Shan Varn Barakis Thurion Heavenshield Beltran Rarr Aien Mueller Jairdain Kranak Vizsla Laertia Io Chasianna
Enemies: Tathra Khaeus Osam

Spoiler

Mig could feel a second wind coming on through the Force. Someone up there was looking out for him apparently. He didn’t mind, but he really wished the Bryn hadn’t landed right on the city. He looked up, grumbling a bit as he quickly hit the his comms.

“Netherhounds! Wraiths! Is everyone ok?”

“Yeah. We’re good.”

“My teams ok, Alor, but we can’t find the Le Patrol. They were near the city center.” Mig just closed his eyes as he began to hear the roar of engines above. The Bryn weren’t the only ones that had come to the surface. Now it was time for all out war though.

“All teams! Get to the city center! We need to hold them there! The Bryn just made a massive mistake. They surrounded themselves in a city with people who’ll fight them tooth and nail. Time to show the Bryn that the Galaxy won’t fear them anymore!” Mig would quickly start to charge toward the battle, using the rooftops to move more quickly. He could hear the Wraith moving at max speed, and even a couple of Frontlines letting their particle cannon artillery pieces fly towards to Bryn forces. It was easy to tell with the speed they were set to their “high explosive” mode.

He would then hear the familiar sound of Ra’maks’ tri-beams. He shuttered at the thought before sending another message.

“Sword and Rapier squadrons! Test your new toys on those living gunships. We don’t need them in the sky. TwinTails help them too! Everyone else, open fire on anything massive or in large groups on the ground. We can’t let the Bryn have a minute of rest now that there here.” And with that engines roared above. The slower Jair Kyr’am of Sword and Rapier squadrons would quickly go on the attack, aiming their heavy cannons at the Bryn’s flying war beasts, and were soon followed by the read planted “Blood Stain” squadron, and their sister squadrons. The other squadrons meanwhile would begin to attempt strafing runs.

It wouldn’t be long before Mig spotted Fora, her group of Netherhounds, and a couple of Rangers. She simply gave him and nod, and prepped her bow before begin to fire into the Bryn swarm. Mig would follow suit in his own way, quickly charging Force Lightning before sending it into the Bryn forces. The tanks hadn’t made it yet, but with the massive creatures Mig was seeing they needed them, fast!

“I’ve never seen big ones like those,” he would yell over comms, not suRe what to expect other than pure chaos.

Orbit:
Fleet: Keros' Kad, 4x Shield-class Escort Cruisers, 6x GF-2B Super TwinTails Squadrons, 2x "Kodashi" Viper MKII Squadrons, 3x HA-2 Pike Squadrons, 2x Dinii-class Dral'tabalhar Me'sen squadrons, 2x HF-2 Jair Kyr'am squadrons, 8x DF-1 Scarab Swarm Fighter squadrons
Tags:
Allies: Liedran Kathause Gir Quee Liram Angellus
Enemies: Tathra Khaeus

​

Malo looked down to the planet, eyes fixed on solutions. Kaddie was a bit busy, but decisions had to be made.

“From what I understand they weren’t complete yet. Tail end of it maybe.” It wasn’t the best answer, but it was the only one the AI could give. It was just shocking to see that battlecruiser barrel by, sacrificing its escorts to make it to the ground. It wouldn’t take long before the question about the Kad’s status came in, and this time Malo answered.

“Pegasus, this is Captain Malo. The ships ready for action, but Kaddie’s told me we have one issue. Our hyper particle battery won’t allow fire planet side. The weapons independent targeting unit stops it from happening. All other weapons could be fired, but the Bryn are.... Karking Osik!” This was the yell of someone who’d finally received word on where exactly the Bryn landed. The middle of the city.... Kark it all! Malo took a breath, thinking.

“And our Baradium shells for the rail guns aren’t an option now with that landing zone. Too much friendly fire risk with their blast radius.”

 

[Galak]

STANDOFF
​

PHASE ONE
Location: Aboard the Epitaph
Bryn'Bois: Sylok'Vanari | Hrajlmak'Natok | Sethrak | Osam | Primarch Drek'ma | Udomek Seker | Kyrim Tenebris | Kelmor | Tathra Khaeus | Krarolk T'manu | Ostak Cl'mana |
Adversaries: Aurelian Sigismund |
Equipment: Triad | Armour | Shredder | Bryn Shot |
Forces: Juggernauts | Drones | Juggernaut Heavies | Juggernaut Majors | Gunboats

The Juggernauts were forced to kneel, bracing with one and other as the Epitaph hit the surface. They rose again, forming a dozen more columns than the superior Ultra's ahead of them. To the lowly likes of the Minors, the Ultras were stuff of living legend, they almost didn't notice the trickle in of the terrible cold as the bay doors opened. Galak felt his hearts fighting harder instantly, the cold air stinging his throat and burning his exposed skin. He flinched unintentionally, a series of groans of disdain and pain shooting through the near seven thousand strong force of Juggernauts.

"Everyone, remember your personal shielding units. They will help with the burn."

A series of snap-hisses ringed out through the Juggernaut forces in rapid succession, additional shielding. It numbed the pain, but they were still slowed. Galak gripped tight onto his Triad, feeling the ache of his muscles begin to subside slightly with the additional of the enveloping personal shield. But it just wasn't enough, nothing would be. They had to carry on regardless. He still had to lead, and ensure the victory of the Bryn'adûl. Above them, the Gunboat squadrons moved out from the interior of the Epitaph, hundreds of them to deliver their forces around the battlefield, darting out between the Ra'maks under Tathra's control. They had to establish an immediate control of the surrounding area or they'd be done for. The Gunboats would move in, using their speed and manoeuvrability to deliver forces to nearby defensive installations, anything that looked remotely like an anti-air turret or a defensive measure would have at least one Gunboat on top of it.

Now, for the mudpile. The Juggernauts kicked at the heels of the Drones as they rushed into the black. Even with the militia blinded, their sheer numbers turned the black clouds surrounding them into a covet of blaster bolts coming from all directions. Almost as quickly as the Drones were leaving the ship they cut down, torn apart as the Juggernauts filed into focused groups, their sole purpose to punch holes in the sporadic defences ahead of them. But even their Juggernauts were being cut down too, it seemed as though those damned droids from Sarka were back and with new weapons designed to target them. Luckily, they had new shielding too.

For every one of them, there were seemingly hundreds of militia men. Even with poor equipment or a lack of training, it wasn't hard to miss when you were shooting down what had essentially become a firing range. Tank fire rippled along the sides of the battlefield as Galak rushed into a small crater, using its ridge to open fire with his Triad as two Heavies to his left drew their fire with phalanx shields. In seconds the molten bullets tore through the militia men in a drove like cattle. But there was just so damned many of them. But it wasn't just militia men either, already the elite of the Concord's forces or allies were making themselves know, gold forces moving between the lines within the urban areas. They were pushing into closer quarters territory, some of their Heavies would switch to Crippler automatic shotguns in the tighter spots. They were losing their own, but for every one of them many more of the enemy fell.

The cold stung at his muscles as he fought to keep the Triad steady, the Quilxyn Protectors would be needed soon. Otherwise, his hands might've gone numb.

 

[Thirdas Heavenshield]

Somewhere, buried...
​

There was little else they could do but watch as the incoming Bryn vessel hit their shields, and feel their hearts sink into their stomachs as it passed through unharmed. By now it was too late for those stationed at the Command Center to clear the blast area; the Bryn'adûl had crashlanded their ship only a city block away, creating a massive crater and crushing both man and machine caught in its wake. Buildings collapsed as the ground shook.

Thirdas had sought to utilise his grappling hook, firing at a nearby rooftop to hopefully clear the area. The grapple found its mark and began to pull him to safety, but just as his feet had left ground and he thought himself safe, debris from another structure cut the cable in two, and the lieutenant was sent falling helplessly.

Everything went dark.

By the time he regained consciousness he found himself surrounded by nothingness; a suffocating blackness all around. His mouth and throat was stuffed with earth and dust, and he had trouble breathing. The visor of his helmet had shattered and, though there was no way for him to know, pieces of it had embedded themselves in his face. With a strain hand movement he was able to run his fingers across his forehead, feeling a familiar liquid warm to the touch and the bits of visor sticking out of him.

Because his helmet remained intact around his head, his comm-link was still active. Through it, he was forced to listen to the pained cries of his fellow soldiers, reporting that the Bryn had finally appeared from the crashed ship and units were moving in to engage from all across the city of Anvil.

"Hnngh... he... lp..." was all he could possibly muster at this stage, still groggy from the fall and barely able to make a coherent sound. He was able to reach down into his pocket and produce a small flashlight. With it he was able to deduce that, while trapped under debris, he wasn't stuck. His arms and legs were free, with only his torso being weighed down by a large pillar. He could turn his head to look in either direction, but his helmet remained stationary, limiting his view.

More desperate cries could be heard over comms as the Bryn commenced their slaughter of the surprised defenders. Some were asking where their commander was. They served to spur him on, to find a way out of his prison.

Lying on his back, he made two attempts to lift the enormous pillar he was trapped under. Both proved fruitless, as he only expended precious strength needlessly, making the next attempt even more futile. He had to get out of there soon, or succumb to fatigue and be lost forever. He could hear heavy footsteps up above, too heavy for any of their allies. Had he been buried so close to the enemy? How much of the city had already fallen?

He then heard someone fall on top of the debris he was buried under, as muffled cries for mercy was met with a sickening squelching noise, following by a monstrous cackle.

Panic began to set in for the young Ranger; his brothers were being slaughtered, and he could nothing. Would this had happened had someone else been in command, someone capable? Was he, in the end, a failure? A failed warrior. A failed lover. A failed son.

Weeping, he closed his eyes. Even as he put up a feeble third attempt to free himself from the pillar, he searched for fond memories of his family. His brother, his sister. His mother. His father.

"Dad... help me. I'm not strong like you."

Ready to give up and accept his inglorious fate, there was this tugging sensation within his mind. It turned into the faintest whisper, inaudible at first. It kept him from giving up on consciousness as he instead focused on discerning what the voice was saying.

In his moment of desperation, Thirdas allowed himself to tap into the Force and was able to amplify the whispers in his head.

"Rise... Rise... Rise," he heard, each time the voice grew louder and more distinct.

"Rise, Thirdas. You are my son. You will always have my strength."

The voice of his father was like a soothing breath filling his lungs, bringing newfound vitality to his extremities previously worn out by the attempts to free himself. The next words were spoken with authority, as if his body was being commanded by his father.

"Now, rise. On your feet, soldier. This is your hour. Rise!"

Red, hot, Valkyri blood pumped through his veins anew, as he grappled the large pillar trapping him. With superhuman strength his fingers dug into the very stone, and with a loud grunt he pushed with all the spirits of his ancestors filling his entire being. The pillar began to budge, and the pile of debris he was buried underneath would begin to shift.

Grunts of excersion turned into a full roar as he kept pushing, now able to tuck his legs under him to help further lift the pillar. As piles of debris started to fall away fresh air found its way to him. Finally, as he demonstrated the sheer physical strength of his people, the huge pillar, likely a dozen meters in length and several meters thick, was lifted clean off the ground as Thirdas emerged from underneath layers of debris and bodies of his fallen brothers, roaring like the lion he was. Within him there was a lust for the blood of his enemies found within any of his species stretching back to ancient times, triggered by the need to survive and avenge the fallen of not just this world, but every world.

Lifting the pillar of stone over his head, he threw it at a whole host of Bryn warrios, crushing those too foolish to move out of the way. He pounded his chest and threw his helmet aside, spitting and shouting in his native tongue the most crude challenges even as his face was covered in his own blood.

"FACE ME, FOUL MONSTROSITIES! My gods are smiling at me this night, monsters! Can you say the same?!"

Brandishing his battle axe, Thirdas Heavenshield was no longer that same Ranger lieutenant buried with his own failures. He was Valkyri, and he would face his death like the Berserkers of old -- with axe in hand and covered in the blood of his foes.

If the Bryn'adûl wanted a slaughter, they would have it. As enemy infantry charged the lone warrior clad in battered armour barely held together, his axe went to work.

​

 

[Kyrim Tenebris]

​

: Blades | Armor | Grenades (4x) | Spike Weapon | Personal Shield

: Sev Tok atmosphere, the Epitaph, Infantry Bay, with Krarolk's Squad (I mistakenly assumed that Krarolks rank was at Major level, but it is a Zealot Commander, sorry for any confusion)

: Bryn'adul ~ Sylok'Vanari | Hrajlmak'Natok | Galak | Primarch Drek'ma | Tathra Khaeus | Osam | Udomek Seker | Ostak Cl'mana | Sethrak | Quoron Ver'dum | Krarolk T'manu

: TBD (Open to engagement)

The sudden call for the Zealot Commander Krarolk was of mild annoyance to Kyrim, who delighted in the backward step shown when he had dropped his cloak. It was of no offense to the Shadow, as his orders had their first part completed—state the issued order to reinforce the Commander in any way possible. But to Kyrim, just supporting would not be enough, although what was? He believed it to be killing in the name of the Bryn'adul, but he had killed many. He thought about it for a moment before finally settling upon his answer—culling weakness. The Bryn'adul culls all weakness, and it is through this mantra Kyrim emboldened himself. The weak deserved to die. It was so.

As the two Zealot Elites beside him prepared for battle, Kyrim too joined in, sneaking glances at their armor and equipment and mentally calculating the differences. They had more specialized weaponry, including bows and pistols, while the only form of ranged weaponry besides the force which Kyrim possessed was his Radesh Automatic Weapon strapped to his back. However, Kyrim had some things which the two Zealot Elites didn't have or weren't openly carrying: four barad impact grenades on his belt and then his prized blades strapped to either thigh. The chill from his blades was starting to permeate past their scabbards and affect the hot air inside the bay, giving Kyrim a pseudo-aura of cold. Cold enough to get stares from the baedurin as they shuffled away from the source of their discomfort. He played with their handles, knowing full well the amount of pain he could cause with them, particularly to his enemies but also indiscriminately to his fellow Dralevasier, who were of the Baedurin subrace.

His thoughts were interrupted by the Commanders' Speech, their rallying telepathic speech riling up the ranks of the Zealots, the ones not in the front-ranks of the charging army but the specialized squads who had all received their orders through their officers and commanders beforehand. A recap was always necessary to keep the Drael knowledgeable of any new information which could cause a rerouting of their forces to reinforce, infiltrate, or eliminate a target. As required, or at least what seemed like a requirement but was probably a show of excitement, the combined Zealots cheered on as their commanders' finished their rally call.

Kyrim alone did not participate in this cheer.

He was too busy, the same phrase escaping his mouth over and over again as he awaited his new directives from Commander Krarolk.

The Bryn'adul Culls All Weakness.

 

[Ostak Cl'mana]

PHASE I​

POST: III
LOCATION: Sev Tok atmosphere, the Epitaph, Infantry Bay
EQUIPMENT: Fireproof ceremonial Shaman robes
UNITS: TBD
ALLIES: THE BYRN | In vicinity of Galak / Hrajlmak'Natok / Osam / Primarch Drek'ma / Sethrak
ENEMIES: SJC & ALLIES | Open to engagement

A sudden jolt of the Epitaph caused Ostak to stumble forwards, barely avoiding collision with an Obalisc.
​

The massive dropship had yet to slam into the planet's surface, so the Shaman could only assume that they had collided with a Concord warship. Still, the Epitaph continued its descent unhindered, any damage seemingly not affecting critical areas of the vessel.

An even greater jolt shook even the Brumaks as the Epitaph collided with Sev Tok's surface. Ostak leapt upwards to counteract the momentum, gaining several vertical meters in his leap. He landed firmly on his feet, raising his head up to analyze his surroundings. His Shamen showed no sign of fear, their beasts rallied and assembled for battle.

Just as the large bay doors began to swing open, the Primarch teleported to his right.

The two Shaman leaders and Ostak's Beast Master lieutenant observed as a dark night sky expanded in front of them, a mild chill entering the bay. Many of Shamen, including Ostak, were cold-resistant Aeravalin who were quite comfortable in the current weather. However, the cold-sensitive Baedurin were far less pleased. Quilxyn raised barriers over the especially affected individuals, and they gathered their beasts uninterrupted.

The Draeyde were the first of the beasts to be unleashed, their vast swarms benefiting from both the natural darkness and the Quaker ink artificially generated. They were followed by the Seekers, who rapidly formed into packs and dove into the soft dirt and bedrock of the main landing site. They tunneled underneath the first defenders, ignoring them in favor of heavier armored support. Afterwards, Rhivaks, Brumaks, and Obaliscs lumbered out of the bay. The former two slowly advanced, forming a thick wall of hide between the Concord defenders and the Shamen present, as well as the Obaliscs between the tank beasts and their masters. The Obaliscs took the time to accustom their senses to the darkness of night, each searching for large groups of hostiles to target.

"Shaman, show them the true nature of the force."

"Yes, my Primarch." replied Ostak, his attention returning to his immediate surroundings.

As the Primarch moved forwards to join the vanguard, Ostak followed, stopping only after he had taken several steps out of the bay and onto Sev Tok's surface. Then, he sat down in a meditative position, closing his eyes and calling upon his vast stores of spiritual energy. A ring of purple energy was embedded into the ground surrounding Ostak, providing him the concentration of energy he needed for his next task.

About ten meters above him, the translucent projected blade of a massive axe began to emerge.

 

[Beltran Rarr]

Beltran Rarr

Location: Lowest Wall, Anvil, Sev Tok
Objective: Repel Bryn'adul Assault
Allies: SJC and Allied Personnel, interacting with Thirdas Heavenshield , Laertia Io , Mig Gred , Aien Mueller, Jairdain
Location: defending Anvil (open to all interactions)
Enemies: The Bryn'adul (open to all interactions), specifically looking to feed Tathra Khaeus his own intestines.
Loadout:

• Armor: Katarn Mk. III Light Powered Armor
• Clothing: Katarn Undersuit, Bantha Load-bearing system
• Primary Weapons: 10mm Pulse Rifle
• Secondary Weapons: Death-Dealer Handcannon (drop holster, right hip - loaded with Sith-Killer Ammunition), Pulse Pistol (chest holster) Lightsaber (clipped to waist), Lightsaber Pike (strapped to back), Wrist Mounted Blaster (right wrist), Tactical Vibroblade (right boot), Incendiary Grenades, Cryo-Ban Grenades

Let me shoot him...

Beltran didn't hear the words, being far out of earshot of Omega Squad. But he felt them, or rather the sudden intense rage that radiated out from their location through the Force. Generally speaking, Beltran wasn't much of a telepath but since his training had begun with Darth Solipsis , he was growing into a somewhat talented empath. Particularly where negative emotions such as anger and fear were concerned. He could feel them, and if not the words exactly then very much the intensions behind them.

I have a charge with his name on it.

If anyone is going to hit him, it's going to be...

Beltran actually snorted aloud in derision and near disgust. That they felt they had cause to be angry when it had been his men who had died by their hands while attempting to rescue them was a hypocrisy that only fueled Beltran's rage. Beltran resisted the sudden urge to make his way to their position and offer them the chance to make good on their threats.

But, like Aien Mueller, Beltran recognized that this was an issue for a different time and place. At another point in his life, Beltran might have suppressed his rage but instead he used it, just as Solipsis had taught him.

He imagined every soldier who'd been killed in this bloodbath of a war. Every innocent who went from this life in terror and pain. He imagined them all, and he used all that anger and hate and pain to strengthen himself in the Force. Perhaps Jairdain would feel his presence in the battle meditation. If so, she would feel a sense of white hot rage through the Force. Like the core of a star perhaps, coming from where Beltran stood atop the outer wall of Anvil city.

Overhead, the giant ship of the Bryn'adul grew in size as it approached the city. Beltran could see Concord ships, one in particular trying desperately alter their course by ramming it. The bulk of the abomination held fast, it's course unwavered and moments later it crashed into the shields. The blue field barriers did what they could, but they were designed to stop turbolasers and baradium missiles, not a ship at least a kilometer at length. They tried their best, but ultimately failed.

"Everybody down!" Beltran called over open comms. If the Bryn'adul ship crashed at speed the call wouldn't help those soldiers and civilians that the Bryn'adul had just crashed into, nor those located in the kilometer wide crater that would surround their ship. Those souls would already [be] lost. There would be no helping that. But if even a few of those nearby but out of the radius of impact could find cover, perhaps they would be spared injury and death from the pieces of projectile debris that was being launch into the air.

Beltran expected a flash as the ship impacted the surface...but that flash never came. The flaming pieces of rock, durasteel, and even flesh that he'd expected to rained down all over never materialized. Some how, the ship had slowed to a point that it came to an almost smooth landing. Beltran didn't know how it had bypassed the city's shield. The ship was an impressive feat of engineering, but the Bryn'adul had proven time and again that they were always full of surprises. Beltran had long learned that underestimating them lead to only one thing: death.

"Colonel!"

It was the voice of Major Ecks in his ear. Not the comms, but actually next to him. He turned and met her gaze.

"Report!" He shouted as the sounds of blaster fire began to sound in the distance.

"Near as I can tell, the entire 663rd has been annihilated. They were near the command center, which also seems to have been hit. We've got word from the 666th's QRF's that Bryn'adul forces are beginning to disembark from the ship. Captains Tomas and Javos are rallying the militia and allied forces they can find and moving in to try and keep them contained."

"Good," Beltran responded.

Nearly six-hundred Rangers would be moving on the Bryn'adul even as they found their footing.

Before he could move on to the next task, his com beeped, indicating a private transmission.

"Captain Mrawr," Beltran commed back to his former second in command and now the commander of Paladin Company.

"We're here, sir."

"I know you are, but I need you to hold position."

There was a half growl that sounded on the Togorian officer's end. Beltran knew that with their heavy powered suits of armor, and the powerful weapons platforms that the suits carried would make the elite one-hundred fifty Rangers fighting force feel more like a thousand.

But that was a card Beltran didn't want to play just yet.

"Copy, holding fast." The massive Togorian spoke with a half-growl that said simply: When?

Turning back to Ecks, Beltran spoke. "What about the 3rd?"

"No casualties being reported, sir."

"Good, tell them I want every mortar team set up and pumping shells at the Bryn'adul positions as fast as possible and I wanted it started last week. In addition, all heavy machine gun teams are to set up in an arc around the Bryn. If they're going to advanced, I want them to feel a hundred bolts and slugs for every step any of them take. They want to create hell? Let's show them what hell really is. Everyone else is to move to reinforce the 666th."

"And what of Hades Platoon and the 200 666th still stuck outside the city walls?"

"Have them beg, plead, cajole or threaten for transport from somebody. If that fails, tell them to start running. If it helps, tell them to think of his as today's PT, but I want them at the city walls in half an hour. Even if it kills them."

Beltran could see Major Ecks struggling not to argue with him. At this point he didn't care if what he was asking for was impossible. They were Antarian fething Rangers, they ate impossible for breakfast and shutta'd it out by lunch!

After a moment, the Major nodded and asked. "And what about you, sir? What are you going to do?"

"Oh," Beltran said simply, as if he was telling the Major about his plans for the day over caf. "I'm going to find Tathra Khaeus and make him eat his own intestines."

Spoiler: Ranger Order of Battle and Summary of Actions

Hades Platoon – 50 Rangers – Divided into squads and set up in observation posts outside of the city. Snipers set up to take down high value targets (Bryn officers and the like) and communicate enemy movements.

UPDATE: Linking up with stranded 666th Elements, attempting to secure air transport back to city.

Rangers 3[SUP]rd[/SUP] Infantry – 1800 Rangers – Set up along the outer most wall of Anvil, anchoring key sections of the defense along side SDF and Planetary Militia – This is Beltran’s current location.

UPDATE: Mortar teams are beginning to pepper the Bryn'adul landing site with shells. Machine gun nests are being set up in an arc around the landing site. Standard infantry is moving to reinforce the 666th QRF's and allied counter attackers. Beltran is moving to engage Bryn'adul, specifically searching for Tathra Khaeus .

663[SUP]rd[/SUP] Mobile Artillery – 64 Rangers - Set up inside the walls alongside other artillery units for priority fire missions as needed - UPDATE: Wiped out by Epitaph's landing.

666[SUP]th[/SUP] Mechanized Infantry – 1000 Rangers in CAV vehicles with minor armor support –
300 Rangers and CO currently deploying thermonuclear mines at possible Bryn’adul landing zones outside city.

UPDATE: Approx 200 Rangers currently stranded due to power loss of unknown origin. Moving on foot toward Hades Platoon positions. 100 Rangers returning to Anvil. Mines deployed.

UPDATE: 100 Rangers returned to Anvil, currently moving through main city gates. Moving toward Epitaph landing site to engage Bryn'adul. 200 Rangers currently linking up with Hades Platoon, seeking air transport to city if possible.

600 divided into Quick Reaction Forces (100 Rangers each), located in middle levels of city.
Utilizing Gweld-Class CAV’s for quick movements.

UPDATE: All six quick reaction forces engaging Bryn'adul now (600 Rangers and vehicles).

Paladin Company – 150 Rangers – Deployed to top most level of Anvil, all utilizing A.I.P.S battle suits in defense of Shield Generator - UPDATE: Currently holding position at shield generator. Not happy about it.