[SIZE=11pt]Location: [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Landing[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Tags: [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]None, running solo[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Allies: CIS[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Enemies: TJE[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The jovial times shared between the ancient warriors felt short-lived, while they joked and joshed the Veil had burst from hyperspace above the pitiful planet that would become the Sephis’ newest killing ground, the bodies would be high and the streets would run crimson with gore. A reminder to any fledgling Empire that wished to infect the Galaxy with their presence.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]But Lirka took no pleasure in this, not like she usually did: for she still saw the fires of Copero, heard it even. The sounds of the coldest of efficiency that reaped a bounty of combatants and civilians all the same...to some extent she wondered how the world faired now. How deep did it’s scars run? As deep as the ones the fighting had given her? Just as Copero reaped it’s bounty of lives, it had taken much of her flesh. A skeletal cybernetic arm replaced the one lost to the fire that had engulfed her battlefield, and after so much of her face had been damaged by the Tank’s blast as well: and it claimed her eye, a cybernetic that burned crimson. A crimson that some would say matched her bloody acts on that world: a butcher, she was. And it gave her little pride.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]She did not let the thoughts dwell, and when the klaxons blared to signal the time to drop she rose: her face stone cold, as it always was before battles like these. She felt little when fighting the Jen’ari, maybe a burning conviction to see a Force Cult eradicated but little else. They made fine training dummies, but nothing else there. It was mindless fighting, to reap the bounty of blood and gore that was necessary for victory to be achieved and that was all. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The quartet of warriors armed themselves, Lirka placing her helmet on with a hiss and a click as it locked. The Honor Guard doing the same, grabbing their Glaives before heading down to the decks to find their respective pods: it had been deemed more suitable once again to spread the bladesmanship of the warriors throughout the invasion force, hacking through whatever walls of bodies the Imperials would throw at the Confederacy to try and stop the advance of their armies. As it had been on bloody Copero.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]With either the click or stomp of metal against the floors of the Veil, the Sephi made their way down to the loading decks. Few words were shared between them, save for the smallest of exchanges between Lirka and her head Honor Guard, Ankyre.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The warrior, in his crimson armor, had been with Lirka since she was a mere child. And was the one who had taught her the blade, in essence he created the savage killing machine that was going to be unleashed upon the Jen’ari and any who dared associate with them once again.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Kyr celol, Tia Cel.”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Good hunting. The humor in it would be lost to the uninitiated, his voice was as cold and unflinching as Lirka’s own: there was no good hunting to be had on this rock, only fools trying to build an Empire once again. And with a turn he embarked into his own Droch Pod, the doors closing with a hiss. And maybe somewhere inside of herself, Lirka wondered if they’d ever see each-other again.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]And soon the warriors all departed, split up and sent into their own pods. Lirka sat herself down into the dark thing, listening to the all too familiar hiss of the closing doors and the preparations to drop.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]And then once more, hell rained.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The rumbling of the pod had grown tiresome, Lirka sat motionless and unflinching as the sounds of battle roared outside, a pod that had been flying next to them sending a thunderous roar and making her own vessel shake violently as it was torn to little more than flaming rubble and falling corpses. Or whatever was left of the occupants. Not a flinch, this was standard fare for her now. Not quite as exhilarating as merely jumping down from Low-Orbit in her powersuit, the act of falling from orbit in a Droch just didn’t excite her anymore, and the prospect of the “chaos” down below was all the more boring.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]And with a thunderous crash and shake the blades of the Droch implanted itself onto the world below, and the doors slid open once again: the immobile statue of a woman launched out like a bullet: her Klaive clutched in her cybernetic hand as the carnage began. Already fortifications in place by the Jen’ari troopers had been demolished by the landing of the Confederacy’s forces. The soldiers who had survived fared no better, the blur of Lirka’s glowing blade made short work of the dazed survivors: heads rolled, and armor helped little against the sheer ferocity expressed in the hulking monster.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]That’s all Lirka was when the fighting began, a monster. Comparable to one of the Force Cult’s Sithspawn, or a rampaging Rancor on the hunt for food: it was why she had fallen so easily into the orders of “destroy”. Why she stood on the pile of fallen corpses, the corpses whose only sin was to have been on the Jen’ari’s Copero. And the rage made her only fight harder, the Dark Side coursed through her veins in this moment. Her emotions were raw, untamed things, she had become a vessel of pure slaughter in these moments.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The Confederacy’s Attack Dog.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]With the Dark Side flowing through her, Lirka roared out a battle cry for all those Confederates that had landed with her: and it would be a fool's errand not to listen to the Sephi when her battle frenzy had decided it would rear it’s true and ugly head.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]“LEAVE NOTHING STANDING!”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The cry echoed, the Dark Side channeled through it. And so did the carnage she assumed to come had indeed decided to show itself, the bounding beast of a warrior threw itself against any warriors too foolish to not get out of it’s way: one of the force cultists, a foolish boy had decided he would stand and slay the monster to feel the glory it would reap. His crimson blade held high, it was a hopeless endeavour. The songsteel Klaive knocked his blade aside, flung it out of his hands with the sheer force it held behind it it. And with the monster’s free hand it grabbed the boy by his face, with it’s mighty bulk thrown behind it, the cultists was sent crashing down into the street with the sickly crack of shattering bone. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]And so did it’s implacable march continue, the crushed boy left among the growing stream of corpses that follow that [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]things [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]assault.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]She was lost to battle frenzy. Consumed in the fires of Copero, of the guilt of wanton slaughter. And the mocking laughter of ghosts long dead. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]There was no good hunting here.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Lirka’s slaughter continued on, little could stop the rampaging beast. The Dark Side had truly gotten it’s talons around the woman: the Sephi had been replaced with a monster.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]For a time at least.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]For soon she was violently pulled from her frenzy, a stabbing pain burst within her soul. She could feel a crushing pain, as though apart of herself was lost. She could feel the quartet growing smaller, another soul lost.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Blades, crimson as the blood that was not shed claimed the life of a Guard. Her form, lithe and swift, was broken: fallen to her knees the blades slashed and the Guard’s head rolled from her neck. Her assaulting force all but obliterated...artisan gear that had served for centuries lost in the fires of battle.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Lirka staggered ever so slightly, a blaster bolt pinging into her armor as a reprimand for her foolish action. Rage soon began to be replaced by a righteous sorrow, a violent sorrow. Vengeance would be reaped. Vengeance needed to be had![/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]And she saw the force to extract her vengeance upon, one of the Jen’ari Marauders, one of the people who had claimed the life of her sworn Honor Guard. With a bestial fury harnessed, the warrior woman charged forward: bashing aside two of the Imperial troopers as if they were mere toys. Her Klaive slashing out in a brutal slash, to be met with the fiery crack of the lightsabers connecting to the plasma filament that made the Klaive burn. Burn like all that had be reduced to ash under the many wrathful marches the Sephi had inflicted during her many years of life. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]And so did the two warriors fight, blades clashing together in a fiery exchange. Sparks flew from both weapons, and as time progressed the Marauder launched himself into the air, landing onto the top of a nearby building. To little shock Lirka followed suit, the massive creature launching herself into the air with little trouble. Her Klaive slashing downwards with her Klaive the weapon easily sliced through the duracrete of the structure, but alas, did not slice the marauder into two fine bits.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Instead the flashing duel continued, Lirka’s rage only growing as the Cultist refused to die. With a stylized twirl the blades found themselves in a lock, sparks flying and heat radiating as the two pushed against each-other to try and find the weakness within the others defense.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]And then she was struck, another feeling of her soul being torn apart.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]One of the last of the guards stood, tall and proud, his Glaive swinging in twirling arcs that left a trail of emerald within the air: deflecting whatever blaster bolts he could...but he had been surrounded. And the unrelenting horde continued, a hundred pin pricks, a thousand pin pricks, slowly slicing into the crimson armor they wore. And soon, as dozens of bolts collided with his form. He fell, crying out as a bolt finally made it’s way into his shoulder. His Glaive swung one more time before another bolt connected, and another, and another, and another. And soon, he fell. His Glaive crackling one last time before it went silent.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Staggered, an opening was finally given for the Sith. And his blade connected, slashing through Lirka’s armor and part of her stomach. Roaring out in pain, she let out a proper stagger. Grasping the Sith in one of her mighty hands before the entire building shook: an explosion rocking the entire thing before they both fell down into the fires of battle below.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Everything hurt. Once again, Lirka opened her eyes to fire. Her assault force decimated, and forced to divert the Sephi shakily rose, coughing violently as she felt the bitter metallic taste of blood in her mouth. Staggering her way forward, using her Klaive as a walking stick, she tried to continue onwards. She was the unrelenting force. The unstoppable wave. The Confederacy’s instrument of total annihilation![/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Right?...[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]With a searing pain filling her entire left side Lirka fell, finding herself fallen once again. Dragging herself along the broken remains of the street, ignoring the corpses that lined the burning remains of the strike. Eventually the woman sat herself down, her back pressed against what remained of her former battlefield. Her HUD flickered...her helmet was dying. With another snap the broken helmet was pulled from her head by her cybernetic arm. Throwing the thing aside Lirka looked out to the sky...she was dying. She could feel it. The pain roared within her once again, was this how it would end? On some meaningless Jen’ari rock?...[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Without the strength to move, Lirka sat among the dead. Left with little more than her own recollections of her life...her life as little more than a tool. It was a crushing thing, for a dying woman to think about. And it shattered what little remained of Lirka’s heart…[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Though maybe some hoped exist, for crimson plate showed itself in her vision: Ankyre. He had survived...unlike the others. But his survival filled the former Princess with some hope in that cold dead heart.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]He was not a dumb man, and he was quick to move to the fallen woman. Offering out a hand, his own armor battered and beaten...just like it had been when the Guards had reunited with the heir they had sworn their lives too.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Tia Cel, can you stand?”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Even his cold demeanor could not hide his worry. Even as his armored face showed no emotion, he had watched this woman grow for so much of his life: sworn himself to her survival...sworn himself to the throne. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Lirka clasped his hand, and what seemed like effortlessly pulled him down. She didn’t want to strain her voice anymore, with his armored head close to her bloody and battered face the Sephi weakly spoke.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Ankyre...byrdi shasos os Thustra. I’m done for-”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]She was interrupted by another coughing fit, blood splattering from her mouth.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“I, have failed our people once again...but Ankyre, byrdi shasos os Thustra. Promise me this.:”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]She heaved the words out, drawing what little strength remained in her once mighty form to speak.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Promise me you will be there, when Thustra is reclaimed...when the Mandalorian paerylaes are removed from fair Thustra...succeed where I have failed byrdi shasos os Thustra: see, our planet restored.”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]A violent coughing fit followed, and Lirka yanked the ancient man in closer. What followed was her quiet will, in the language of the Sephi. Broken and hushed under the roaring sounds of Battle, promises were proposed, declarations made, plans prepared so briefly as the life drained from her wound. And soon, she let go on his gauntlet. Letting out a weak cough.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Pulling himself back to his feet, Ankyre grabbed his Glaive. Standing as tall and as proud as he did when he swore his oath to the throne of Thustra, the true throne. He would not waver...even as he watched the Queen die. The true Queen. The true ruler of Thustra. No, he did not waver.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“I promise. Ai maes ol tia shadi os shoraer mar shi therolaer, Tia Cel.”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]And so, another oath was sworn. An oath sworn to a dying Queen. Lirka merely smiled, a proper smile...something she hadn’t done in so long. And so she looked to the sky, watching the explosions of flame and color as the world around them was broken under the Confederacy’s might…[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]It was….such...beautiful….art……..[/SIZE]