The Alderaan Offensive [TSE vs. FWC]

[Aela Talith]

Alderaan Atmosphere - Crashing in Juranno
Allies: FWC | [member="Trextan Voidstalker"]
Enemies: [member="Six-O"] | [member="Imogen Daniels"] | [member="Vaylin"] | [member="Enyo Typhos"] | [member="Lok Munin"] | [member="Farah"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | TSE

"Juranno it is." She said to herself quietly, smacking the pilot on the shoulder with a bright smile and pointing to the map he had pulled up. The man glanced at her, then quickly nodded. He had been with Aela on missions before, a member of the 5th Legion and one of the best pilots she'd ever flown with.

Something she was rather glad for at the moment.

The Jedi Master pulled herself out of the cockpit, experiencing the slight drag of G-force as the ship passed out of hyperspace and back into reality. They had cut through most of the Sith forces in space by dropping out into realspace near the planet itself, and by the time that Aela reached her chair next to Trextan she could already feel the hard lurch of the transport hitting the atmosphere. She was sure there were fighters and the like chasing them, but she didn't see any of it.

Instead she fell into place in the chair, grabbing the straps and shooting Trextan a smile.

"Ever crash in a shuttle before?" They weren't going to crash for sure of course, but their entry was...well less than controlled. "Happens fairly often when I'm around."

The straps on her chair made a loud click as she pulled them tight. "Your father is downright used to it."

Almost as if on some sort of cue the shuttle suddenly lurched as it burned through the very top of Alderaan's atmosphere, a trio of Sith fighters following after it. The transport flew as fast as it could, legging it directly over the grand mountains and plains of the planet. Laser fire streaked out over the ship, striking shields and engines until eventually Juranno came into view on the horizon. Aela leaned back, closing her eyes and focusing on the force.

Then she heard the pilot shout.

"HANG ON!"​

 

[Mariel Dawnrider]

Location: Juranno, Juran Region, Alderaan
Objective: Seriously? This again?
Allies: [member="Alden Belmont"], FWC
Enemies: The mother-karking-sith-again, [member="Six-O"] [member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Vaylin"] [member="Imogen Daniels"] [member="Farah"] [member="Lok Munin"] [member="Enyo Typhos"]
Gear: HA, Blaster Pistol, HAHAohgods

"Not Xen," came the reply before Harper pushed her way in.

She glanced around, not that the room was significantly different from hers. Different painting on the wall over the bed. Slightly different view of the street lights below.

"Can't sleep," she answered without hesitation. "Worried."

She didn't need to explain more. They both knew why on both counts. Both of their families were unaccounted for. They knew they'd gotten off the ground, but after that? Several ships had been destroyed, several taken by the Empire, and more had made the jumps to lightspeed, but almost none of them toward their originally intended destinations.

Her eyes cast to the console, brows arched but he shook his head. No news yet then.

Besides, she hadn't felt it from him. He'd never been good at keeping his emotions under wraps. Even without empathy, he wore his heart on his sleeve and feelings writ clearly across his face.

Or at least, he had.

He was better at it now.

She wrapped her arms around herself and leaned against the wall just inside the door. Something else was bothering her, she realized. The words that had come out didn't encompass the feeling that was shifting in the back of her head. A low grade anxiety that didn't belong to her. The need to move. Not to merely fidget and pace but movement with purpose.

"Eh, more than that. Got an itch. Can't sit still?"

She wasn't really familiar with the feeling. It wasn't a single pinpoint, not like 'fear', 'joy', 'sadness'. Those were relatively easy. Heck, even the more complicated human emotions were at least more straight forward than this. It hit the same notes but felt all wrong.

A bit like on Dellalt, she realized as she turned it over, trying to find the words to explain it.

She looked up at him, something flashing in her eyes as the sound of the first volley of shells reached them. The high pitched whine.

The found themselves on the floor, glass shattered from where the window had exploded inward. Their building hadn't been hit directly, which was a blessing but she didn't have time to consider that too closely.

"Alden! Alden you okay?"

She was shouting, she realized, the buzzing ring in her ears making it difficult to figure out just how loud she was talking. Crawling over to him, she reached out.

Refugees, new to the city in only the last few days, the pair, as well as the others from Dellalt, didn't know the procedures. Where to go, what to do in case of an emergency. All Harper knew was that they needed to get everyone off the second floor.

Now.

 

[Vaylin]

Location: Alderaan - Juran Region | Jurrano Mountains
Objective: Assist Sebestev & Neda
Allies: [member="Six-O"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Imogen Daniels"] | [member="Lok Munin"] | [member="Enyo Typhos"] | [member="Farah"] | Followers of Dust | TSE
Enemies: [member="Harper Kade"] | [member="Alden Belmont"] | [member="Trextan Voidstalker"] | [member="Aela Talith"]| FWC
Equipment: Sith Lightsaber x2 | Shoto Lightsaber x1 | Armour | Oculus | Firestarter |

The two transports landed near the rear of Staging Point Starblossom, it was soon going to be time for them to push towards the city. The loading ramps hit the ground with a thud, boots slamming down against metal as a mix of light and heavy infantry marched out. They were nothing particularly special, just more rank and file within the Sith Imperial Legion. While the lighter troops were outfitted with rifles, a number of the heavies were equipped with anti-air weapons. The dispatchment towards Jurrano had come knowing well enough the city wasn't going to roll over and let the Sith Empire take the city. It had its defences, both on land and in the air, with counters to back them up.

So as transports departed back up through the atmosphere, just over two dozen fighters flew down. The sound of them was deafened by the artillery fire that arced up into the sky and towards the city of Jurrano. It was a beautiful sight, enough that Vaylin watched transfixed from the viewport of her transport before it disappeared into the cold mountains. The fighters managed a single strafing run over the city before their aerial defences finally kicked in. Anti-air emplacements fired upon them as they soared over Jurrano, more explosions in the sky some impacting with no effect while others slammed into artillery shells. It forced the fighters back as both Bomber-Gunships and Interceptors launched in pursuit of them and Battery Snow Owl.
A dogfight ensured up in the sky, ships maneuvering around one another all the while trying to avoid artillery from both sides.

Meanwhile, Vaylin's transport had finally arrived in the mountains, the ship cutting through the snowstorm that was overwhelming those so high above. It hovered a distance above ground, blasting a clear line of sight for Sebestev and Neda's troops, but also gave the Juranno Troops the same benefit. The Zabrak ordered her men to get ready, shuffling themselves to the ramp in order for a quick deployment. Vaylin pulled the hood up over her head, a handy little addition to her armour made in preparation for the Mountain Assault. She strode towards the front of the Dustbringers, calling upon the Force as she connected with the 'Firestarter' and summoned a ball of fire to one hand.

"Lower the ramp!"

Her order blasted through the transport, seconds past until the sound of grinding metal echoed out and the biting cold blasted through into the interior. They could just about hear the rumble of the artillery, with the more prominent sounds of battle filling the air. Vaylin waited until she got a good look at the Alderaanian soldiers, before she swung her fireball towards them. It exploded on impact, taking a number of the enemy with it - although not all would be hit. Those would at the very least be knocked aside and made vulnerable to attack.

"Move!"

With one hand focused on fire, the Zabrak used the other to ignite one of her lightsabers. The red beam cutting through the snowstorm as she jumped down from the ramp, the Followers of Dust following right behind her.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Location: Juranno, Juran Region, Alderaan
Objective: Seriously? This again?
Allies: [member="Harper Kade"], FWC
Enemies: The mother-karking-sith-again, [member="Six-O"], [member="Matsu Xiangu"], [member="Imogen Daniels"], [member="Vaylin"], [member="Farah"], [member="Lok Munin"], [member="Enyo Typhos"].
Gear: Hope. Lightsaber. More hope. Really... just hope.

Alden didn't bother echoing her sentiments.

She would know.

Somehow Harper always knew by just glancing over at him once or twice.

It was strange how Alden had been able to stay away for years from Dellalt without worrying, considering, just studying and trying to develop himself rather than worry about other people. It had been so easy back then, until his commlink went off and pushed him to leaving early. In truth it had been no choice at all: continue his studies or take care of his family when they needed him most? No, that had been as easy as pie as far as he was concerned.

"Oh?" Alden frowned a bit, before glancing over to the window. It had been a pretty day- the view here was amazing at least. "I have been mostly occupied with this, to be honest." The hand pointed towards the exposed wiring of the wall to her left.

That was how he had hard-wired the HoloHub after all.

In some ways it had been helpful to just... forget. Let the problems be pushed away in favor of just getting his hands dirty and solve the problem he could solve right away.

"Maybe we can-"

The explosion outside caused a sonic shockwave that caused windows to break, duracrete to shatter, for several miles. Their hotel wasn't hit directly, no, but it had been close enough that the force caused Alden to be thrown off his bed, window shards shredding through robe and cutting him up at several junctions. Their fingers met, instinctively, and Alden looked at Harper with wide-eyes. He saw her mouth move, but he couldn't... what was she saying?

"Harp, are you okay??" It wasn't really effective. He couldn't hear feth. "We need to get these people to safety!" Already rising, grunting softly at the pain in his side, where transparisteel had glanced through simple textile like it was just paper.

Nothing internal.

But pain and blood.

Where was his lightsaber? Alden looked around, trying to get the high-pitched whine out of his ears.

 

[Saeva]

Location: Alderaan, outskirts of Jurrano
Objective: Bring about the destruction of Jurrano
Allies: TSE
Enemies: TSE haterz
Equipment: Standard armour | Standard lightsaber | Standard blaster pistol

Judgement had reached Alderaan. It did not care so much for the outcome of it all as it did in washing over their fortifications and see what was sufficiently worthy to remain. The same could be said for the aggressors. Many would die. Many deserved to. On an individual level, Idris was mostly concerned with not dying himself. On a secondary level he sought to expose truth where he could. It was impossible to predict what remained after one stepped in for a dance with chaos. Both fortune and utter destruction were equally possible. And wasn't that the thrill of it all? After it was all over, everything would make sense.

"God's will be done" a metallic voice coursed out from the black and grey helmet that, along with his armour, hid all identifiable aspects of the man, save for the fact that he was a man. The statement was spoken to no one in particular. It was a nearly ritualistic acknowledgement of the rules of the paradigm he was about to find himself drawn into.

The man stepped out into the open field surrounded by the machine that was the Sith armed forces. Army at the back, burning city at the front. The sky was filled with thunders, provided generously by the Sith Empire. Artillery assaulted Jurrano, softening her up before the ground forces moved in. That's where he came into play. Until then all he intended to do was form up with his unit and observe the invasion until he was called to action.

 

[Jubei]

Location: Crevasse City, Alderaan
Objective: Help with Evecuation
Enemy: TSE and company, [member="Darth Voracitos"]
Allies: Everyone else

"No!" Jubei hissed to himself.

The dark tendrils of evil oozed from the fat man, targeting the innocent civilians that were trying to flee. As the tendrils gripped their prey, the screams of panic turned to horrifying shrills of pain that echoed through out the transport hub as their very life source was being drained. The horrific scene was sobering for the lepi as the humor of the morbidly obese Sith Lord lost all taste to him. This was not a sick joke, this creature of evil had power and as he flexed it in his form of retaliation against Jubei's laughter and rude remarks, it had shown that he was a force to be reckon with. Doubt now plagued the mind of the jedi knight.

There was no time left, Jubei needed to act if he was going to save the lives that were left. He lunged forward, his powerful legs giving him long strides to close the distance to the Sith. Once in range, he would pounce at his target, drawing a single lightsaber and igniting it to length. The blue light shimmered to life as Jubei would try to bring the weapon to bare on his oversized opponent. The saber would lash out in a horizontal strike, aimed at the Darth's robust belly.

Jubei had never taken life before, but there was a monster in need of slaying and his mind needed to be set to task if he was going to save anyone this day. Hesitation, a slight pull of fear or doubt would cost him dearly.

 

[Darth Voracitos]

Location: Crevasse City, Alderaan
Objective: Secure crystal formations, and trap civilians in the city for imprisonment
Enemy: All of Alderaan, [member="Jubei"]
Allies: The Sith on a good day

Feeding upon the fleeing populace was a trivial matter, and offered him little pleasure in of the act itself. What did bring him pleasure, was killing the humor in the air, to turn a Jedi who had never taken a life, to being fully prepared to end his. It brought about a natural balance to things he had expected of a Jedi... but was sorely missing from the rodent. Voracitos had built up the Jedi in his mind, given the stories his colleagues describing their ineptitude... perhaps this tasty morsel with a lightsaber was proof of that, how utterly unprepared they were to face the might of the Sith.

With a wide toothy grin, Voracitos sensed casually the telegraphed attack, and his lightsaber which had seen so minimal use in years was called to his right hand. It activated in a low vertical parry, perpendicular to his strike. With only one hand brought to the defense of the strike, when it collided it roared in protest. Fortunately, Voracitos did not intend to humor the Jedi's offensive.

"Gooood," Voracitos cooed, before his left hand stabbed the air with his finger tips, unleashing on his foe a telekinetic shock, vaporizing the air shortly with a bright verdant green, intended to send him flying away for a brief time so Voracitos could recover his lightsaber guard.

"I'm sure that was hare-raising," The dark lord joked, and laughed at the Jedi. If the rabbit was going to crack jokes in a situation of life and death, Voracitos would do that all the more to mock him for it, as he recognized the Jedi's horror in realizing his misdeed. Besides, it was a bit of fun.

 

[Xin Boa]

[member="Delila Castillon"]

As they were just a few minutes out from their destination Xin returned to the cockpit. Over his sleeveless shirt was now a light armoured vest. It wasn't new, likely procured from the stash of some collapsed government somewhere. A Glie44 blaster hung from one hip and Xin hung an E22 rifle just outside the door.

"Just being careful," he said, ahead of the expected disapproving stare. Hyperspace belched them back into space on the fair edges of the system. Dropping right above the planet before engaging the cloak would have been akin to running at a trench in the dead of night whilst holding a lit flare.

"Cloak engaged. Going to..." Xin's eyes widened as he looked at the holographic readout. "Dat ah lot of ships. Maybe mi and Skreech nuh guh so fah in case a quick exit is needed."

 

[Darth Carnifex]

A hundred square meters of Alderaani forest had been cleared in preparation for the Emperor's arrival, the ground scorched and devoid of all plant life. A battalion of Blackblade Guardsmen awaited him, flanked by towering Imperial Sentinels.

Clouds churned above the wounded forest as the raptorish profile of the Crestfallen emerged from smoke and fog to grace the gathered soldiers with its malefic presence.

A hiss of hydraulic steam covered the descending boarding ramp, momentarily concealing the Emperor's form as he emerged from the craft; flanked by his Crownguard. Heavy armor covered his muscular body, ceramic plates lightly clinking against one another with every step. His lightsaber, large and shaped like an obsidian crucifix, hung loosely at his waist. A cloak of maroon armorweave was draped over his shoulders, and trailed along the ground.

He was the spitting image of Imperial might and authority.

An officer approached, his movements crisp and uniform as he fell to one knee before the Emperor. "Milord, the assault on New Aldera goes well. General [member="Kor Vexen"] leads the attack, and your army is waiting for you to lead the vanguard." The Emperor stood tall over his subjects, his dark piercing eyes scanning the horizon as thick plumes of smoke rose from where General Vexen's artillery barrages had caused catastrophic damage to the city.

This was good.

This was very good.

"Excellent, inform the General that I plan to make my approach to the city. We will gut the defenders and rip out the heart of their state, the palace remains the true target." Several hover chariots would take the Emperor's retinue, including his Shadow Hand and his conclave, towards the outskirts of New Aldera where they would be deposited at the head of the conquering Blackblade army that had been patiently waiting their arrival.

Then all would burn.

[member="Darth Prazutis"]​

 

[Darth Prazutis]

When his shuttle landed and deposited its contents the landing zone became a truly intimidating sight.

​A great battalion of the Blackblade Guardsmen standing in perfect formation alongside a newly gathered twenty Crownguard in total. The two titans stood out from the rest with their towering forms and dark armor, a pair of lightsabers clipp​ed on his hip like two black slivers of the void radiating with the power of their dark crystals. A dark crystal sat tucked in a protective amulet beneath. He stood like some dark god of war, an agent of destruction given physical form.

​Even from this distance the massive artillery barrage from the Jen'Lazea and [member="Kor Vexen"] was intense, a storm of thunder that never ended smashing the lines of the enemy into pieces. The Jen'Lazea's role in this fight wasn't annihilation but to pound the enemy defenses into ruin, establish the landing site and battle lines for the city to prepare for the full Sith-Imperial Legion's landing. They were relentless, incredibly tough shock troopers that took the full brunt of the defenses and prevailed in establishing their landing. They pushed into the first of the battle lines with massive casualties to their first wave, but the forces of High Warlord Malgrog prevailed.

The Butcher-King's Rage was tucked away from danger observing and unleashing the occasional blast of green flame across the battle lines. Annihilation wasn't their main goal.

After the report of the officer he climbed on the hover chariot turning towards Kaine "The Jen'Lazea prevail once more. Malgrog established the landing site and continues to set New Aldera on fire with his artillery." ​He said checking the battle reports through his helmet once more "It app​ears the first wave has broken through the outer defenses." According to the reports the graug were preparing to send the next waves of troops, with artillery focusing deeper into the city, the distant howling of the shells traveling through the air could be heard even from, its sick noise enough to send shivers down ones spine.

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

Jen'Lazea Battlefront
Malgrog and Gorgannoth
[member="Karen Roberts"]

It was suicide.

The distance between the battle lines of New Aldera's defenders and the Dark Legion was a huge exposed no man's land right into a heavily fortified battle line of savage soldiers, dark mercenaries and bloodthirsty monsters numbering high in the thousands. To march through the seething hordes of the first waves, to make it through the beasts of war and breach the battle lines of these monsters without a great legion one had to be crazy.

But the High Warlord saw something new every day.

After Gorgannoth declared the charge the pair had separated with Gorgannoth moving up to a dug in raised position that the graug were using as machine gun nests and stood just behind the guardsmen manning the great cannons. He held a raised glaive in the air it glowed with a dark green flame, blasting out over the fields to crash into the distant enemy searing right down to the bone.

The sight of the Jedi brought a raspy cackle from the Butcher-King's Rage as he turned and ignited his foul weapon, a charge of sickening fel fire discharging right towards the woman. The graug around them turned towards the intruders and a great storm of weapons fire carved into the enemy as the defenders turned toward the attackers. There were far too many for these attackers to even come close to stopping the tide, or delaying their advance. They would be peppered with arms fire from every direction around them, nowhere was safe.

But Malgrog had a greater job to do besides slaughter he had to lead his horde in their assault. General [member="Kor Vexen"] had the overall command of the attack but he also had his orders, and he would readily assist the General in their attack. After the first wave breached he was far off coordinating the assault and advance of his great horde.

More was to come.

 

[Jsc]

Outskirts of New Alderaa
The Jen'Lazea Battlefront
Attn: [member="Darth Prazutis"] p2


Karen and Grant sighed.

"He's got a point Blue. We're super exposed out here and I don't see an allied commander in sight. Seriously. Like,... Nobody. They're just shelling civilians at this point." The male shrugged and looked around the battlefield.

"So? So what? Last year we were knee-deep in the Netherworld surrounded by a caustic desert, an angry god, and a nigh unlimited amount of angry laser-shooting spirits? And, we couldn't use the Force that week either." Karen frowned. "This is like... Child's play compared to that. And, I'm wearing robes Grant. Robes. When was the last time we wore robes to a fight huh? ...Yeah. Exactly. Like, never. Pfft."

Grant folded his arms over his chest and nodded slowly, "Yeah sure, but? Look. The Warchief isn't coming out to play and his lacky is now holed up on that hill over there and shooting flames and stuff. And, I don't think we'll be seeing the Emperor or his guards anytime soon either. ...Ugh. It's a meh, for me. Sorry Blue. Heroic sacrifice and epic last stand, this is not. I mean. Dang. Not even getting in a Jedi force duel over here. Meh. Nope. It's a meh for me. Sorry."

Karen slouched her shoulders and finally surrendered. Fine. I guess he had a point. Without at least some kind of army backing them up a counter attack or diversion really didn't seem plausible. Poo.

"...Fine. Pfft. You win. We'll go."

Then she kicked the dirt for good measure.


Together they turned and made a unity barrier against Gorgannoth's flame attack. Absorbing as much damage as they could before letting the rest of it's green Fel energy torch the burning ground around them. The beast's power was fair at this range, sure, but a farcry from the inhuman level that Karen and Grant had grown accustomed to fighting in fifteen years of Galactic Events and legendary Sith Lords. So they survived the monstrous attack and lived to fight another day.

Then, smoldering as they were, Karen and Grant used the Force to become invisible. Both to the naked eye and towards the Force itself. Taking the quick advantage to depart the smoking rubble of the battlefield and leaving good Alderaan it's own devices. Reminding themselves: that yes, while fighting the bad guys was a very noble and Jedi'ish thing to do. Well. There was nothing special about a battle this one sided.


*ooc: exit

 

[Rai Seren]

https://youtu.be/qcssdrWyPsY​

There. Two shuttles falling across the sky towards a landing point in the not so far distance. She paused but a moment to make sure her trajectory was correct before setting off once more at a pace faster than most would ever think to use when approaching such danger as she was. This was not something to be taken lightly, and blinded by her anger as she was, she would come to see that in due time. But for now she had to get close enough to them before they escaped her.

She crested a hill and saw sprawled before her a massive army of troops and monsters. Nothing less was to be expected. This was the Sith Empire and they gave no quarter and wasted no expense against whomever drew the brunt of their might. She didn't care. She didn't care about the wastefulness of the bogan worshipping imbeciles. Just the same as she didn't care about the ashla worshipping ones. Both or nothing. That was the only way to live without destroying onesself. Even though she aimed for familial vengeance, her mind was at peace with the Force.

Orange eyes scanned the assembled masses, seeking those she wanted. It wouldn't have been hard to spot them save for the oversized critters mucking about. She did eventually see them, however. Two figures in imposing armor, looming large over their forces. Scores of special guards moved near them. Cowards. Only cowards needed guards to protect them on the battlefield. Surely they must not be as powerful as they were supposed to be given the present of those who protected them.

No, she doubted that. They were dangerous, calculating, and cautious. The guards meant they didn't have to sully themselves most of the time. They could afford to laze about and forget what trouble was. She hated them for it.

The butt end of her pike collided with the ground as she stood atop the hill. A breeze wafted through the air, carrying the scent office and death. As it did so, it ruffled her dark hair off to the side as she regarded her enemies. There were many, but only two mattered to her. One of them was surely Kaine, there were too many guards for anything else. The other could be a relative, but it was impossible for her to tell which was which considering she'd never met Kaine it any of the other Zambrano's.

YET.

Now was the time. She had to try. Who knew if she would get another crack at these two. It was owed to her mother. If she'd known more of what Kaine had done to her family she wouldn't even have hesitated for the half second that she did. But she didn't, and so she watched as they climbed into a vessel intended to carry them forth. When they did, she drew in every ounce of breath that she could muster, released her hold on her Force signature, and projected her sound above that of even the fire of shells and death that reigned supreme.

"ZAMBRANO!" Her voice powered forth, baring her rage. "COME AND FACE THE WRATH OF SEREN!"

[member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Darth Prazutis"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

His family name echoed across the flat plain where the might of his Empire had assembled, causing everyone within earshot and beyond to simultaneously turn their head towards the source of the sound. Blasters begun to raise, but the Emperor raised his hand and they all fell still. The ground shuddered as the Dark Lord set one off of the chariot, his eyes glancing back towards his Shadow Hand for a moment. "Continue the advance, I will rendezvous with you at the palace. This shouldn't take long."

Now he departed the chariot, his army continuing its march forward as he strode; alone, towards the sole figure upon the hill.

The Emperor was in no great hurry, his stride was leisurely as he took each step with calm meticulousness. The bitter wind ripped at his maroon cloak, the fabric billowing loudly behind him as he reached the bottom of the hill. Eyes that burned like turbulent magma engulfed in a sea of inky blackness glared up at the small child, searching and analysing her face as the smallest hint of recognition dawned on his features. "I had thought the children of Asha were dead, save for that worm Kobe. It looks like I was not as thorough as I believed myself to be. An easy thing to correct now that you have foolishly made yourself known."

Carnifex reached down and unclipped his lightsaber from his side, casually igniting it as he stood there; mighty and triumphant, waiting for the small Seren to take her vengeance.

Or die trying.

[member="Rai Seren"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"]​

 

[AMCO]

Location: Outskirts of New Aldera
Objective: Survive the battle and "liberate" relics. If possible steal a statue.
Allies: TSE and Friends (Personal: Six Legionnaires)
Enemies: A bunch of pacifists (Don't look at me like that, I'm just doing my job.)
Gear: Vibrorapier, Particle Beam Pistol, a pair of shock collars, and a concerning amount of thermal detonators.

As both the front and rear ramps crashed down, the bulk of the Legionnaires split in two and charged out their respective entrance, while the Adrian waited patiently inside the transport with his small squad, letting the others soak up the defenders' blaster fire. "Ensign! Take off immediately after we've cleared the ramps, then carry out a strafing run on their nearby positions!" Not bothering the wait for a response, he made his way out of the SI/AIT, followed closely by three Legionnaires on each side.

The spearhead had served its purpose. They had taken casualties, but they had also revealed the positions of the nearby defenders. Running across the pockmarked soil of a small park towards the blasted ruins of what had not long ago been someone's home, he smiled broadly as he felt the vessel take off behind him, followed closely by the delightful sound of its eight laser cannons blasting away at the weary defenders, tearing holes in their makeshift cover and serving as a fine appetizer for the salvo of concussion missiles that followed.

Reaching the building he strode through a hole in the wall, only to throw himself to the side as a laser bolt flew past, slamming into the chest of the first of his men, leaving a deep gash in the reinforced duraplast and sending him to the ground. Outraged, Adrian called upon the force and lashed out at the Alderaanian soldier, Sith Lightning dancing briefly across his writhing frame as he lost his grip on the Blaster Rifle and dropped to the ground, screaming in agony. As the Acolyte rose to his feet, his spreading out while one of them tended his downed comrade, he walked slowly towards the whimpering Alderaanian, sneering down at him as he called upon the force once more.

"Where are your defences concentrated. How do I circumvent them." To his credit, the soldier was able to last a short while, but the ruthless pummeling of his meagre mental defences quickly overwhelmed him. "I... I can't... I won't ... aargh! There's an... old smuggler's tunnel... we... we use it to... to evacuate civilians and the wounded... from the front lines..." Smiling sadistically, Adrian continued to tear the truth from the whimpering trooper, until he had learned all he needed to know. "Thank you for your cooperation." Forming his hand into a claw and making a crushing gesture, he concentrated his power upon the supine trooper until his head exploded, chunks of brain mass and splatters of blood sliding off the Force Barrier he raised to keep himself clean. Turning towards his men, he smiled cheerfully, especially as he saw the downed trooper standing upright, though still shakily. "Come along now, you heard the man, didn't you? I believe we have a tunnel to visit."

 

[Six-O]

LOCATION: Juran Region - Awaiting Mobilization Order
OBJECTIVE: Support Sith Organics
ALLIES: TSE | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Imogen Daniels"] | [member="Vaylin"] | [member="Farah"] | [member="Enyo Typhos"] | [member="Lok Munin"] | [member="Idris Voahan"] | Sebestev Szradislav | Xerrzyk the Ghastly
ENEMIES: FWC | [member="Harper Kade"] | [member="Alden Belmont"] | [member="Aela Talith"] | [member="Trextan Voidstalker"] | Juranno
GEAR: Cylix Pistol | HPB Pistols x 2 | Magnetic Reaper | CF6 Concussion Rifle | SIF-71 | YVHa-60 Chassis


Pulsating booms agitated the mountain beneath Sebestev Szradislav, the strum of Artillery that battered Juranno, boundless and without a single thought of remorse. Perpetual melody that offered refrain to the morbid song of this battlefield he found himself in. Right now, it was impossible to tell if the Sworn Sword was even a man - if any of the Last Fathers or Iron Fist were.

By the time [member="Vaylin"] had arrived, they were simply distorted shapes, bleary under the frost and ice and slaughter. Barbarian monsters from the nightmares of Core World children, spawned from Darkness, shapes taken up from what was left after such grotesque butchery. Fiends rouged with the retch of the dead and dying, stinking of loosened bowels and vomit, howling with the melody of some lunatic horde.

It was a traumatic exhibition to behold upon first glance. People turned blue, laying on stains of red, brown and yellow, petrified in rime as the wind thrashed their lifeless corpses. Others, bitten fiercely by frost, black fingers, lips mapped with deep crevasses, eyes blotted beneath a hoarfrost. They laid there, moving slowly - some for the very last time, others doomed to suffer longer.

Bodies. . . everywhere. .

Even the feathery, Alderaan clouds, were beginning to swirl with black soot and succumb to the nightmare.

Overran as they may have been, however, the Alderaani 177th Mountain Divisions, 9th Combat Brigade, nicknamed the Bleedin' Manks. Rejected and repelled these invaders with the same ferocity as the Manka Cats they took their name from were renown for.

If they were destined to die for their World, so be it, these trespassers would never forget their Banner.

Fatigued, Sebestev's onslaught was beginning to grow stale in the cold air and frigid wind. Technique had frozen, everything he did now was simply feral, lethargic and grisly. Laggardly he launched a riposte from the onrush of a thrusting bayonet, passing forward and breaking the center line of attack, driving the pommel of his Sword upon the Soldiers face. The strike bashed teeth loose, and mutilated the lips with massive, gushing, rends.

Once more, not bothering to finish his enemy as he simply moved on again and again. Combat on every side, no time to think before another attack came in from somewhere close or down range, no time to rest as he fended off knives, and grapples, and rocks and blasters. When no one was around him to bludgeon, choke, or stab - crackling beams of energy, or the snapping hiss of Slugthrowers hung heavy in the air.

So cold.

So tired.

Desperately needing fresh allies to pull him from the freezing water he was beginning to drown in.

"Yo!" A voice suddenly yelled over the wail of Artillery, "Are you [member="Farah"]?" Her voice was almost more deafening than the drum of WG-211's. As soon as the Zeltron replied, another addition was provided for her kit. A very. Large. Addition. "Good luck. . ."

Well that was odd, and rather bleak sounding actually. Upon inspection, if the well-shaped woman of pink flesh so chose, she would instantly realize she had been provided a cumbrous satchel littered with everything from Stimpak's loaded entirely with painkiller cartridges, Stimpills, Adrenals, and all manner of Battle Stimulants.

This was real, and it was going to be ugly.

There was a frightening sort of trepidation that clung in the air, perhaps the utter stillness of the Sith Battle Lines that stood at the ready, wraith-like statues that would soon take to life and devour every soul they came across. Perhaps it could have been the saturninity of this vantage, Juranno, once so serene and beautiful, being erased right before their eyes.

Ravaged by roaring demons that hurled wretched death with such concussive force that it made your bones bicker in protest.

Right before their eyes it vanished behind smoke and fire, buildings diminished and whittled away to nothing. Air Sirens sobbing over the screams of millions, Alarms blaring, Emergency Services struggling. Not a single place safe as the glassy teeth that once rose from the gums of the earth below, were beaten out of the face of this Alderaani City. You could hear them from here. Begging for help.

With dozens of Sith and Alderaan Fighters buzzing the skies like angry wasps, chewing up ground between the battle lines and city as they wrestled for position at breakneck speeds. The Barrage finally concluded. The Battle for Juranno would start now.

With [member="Imogen Daniels"], [member="Lok Munin"], YVHa-60 and Farah all in position and awaiting from [member="Matsu Xiangu"].

These people thought this could and would never happen to them.

 

[Enyo Typhos]

LOCATION: Juran Region - Awaiting Mobilization Order
OBJECTIVE: Support Sith Organics
ALLIES: TSE | [member="Matsu Xiangu"], [member="Vaylin"], [member="Six-O"], [member="Farah"], [member="Lok Munin"], [member="Idris Voahan"]
ENEMIES: FWC | [member="Harper Kade"], [member="Alden Belmont"], [member="Aela Talith"], [member="Trextan Voidstalker"]


The stink of death clogged the air. It was almost suffocating. Red ichor stained the white snow. The wind howled with violent intensity while the snowstorm. What shouts and cries of the wounded might have been otherwise been heard were drowned out by the thunderous roar of artillery. Frost turned lips black, numbed and blistered skin.


Alderaanians, Sith soldiers, mercenaries, cyborgs - they all lay dead or in the process of dying. Grown men weeped or desperately tried to keep their guts from spilling out. No one but a coward would dare boast that he had never known fear in battle. Many of the soldiers on both sides would remain here entombed in the merciless ice. Inside their otherworldly realms, the gods and goddesses of death laughed with glee.


For they would be well-fed with souls.


The Iron Fist rallied - or what was left of them. Battle raged on every side. Soldiers stabbed, choked, beat, bit and shot one another. Neda was in pain, her once pristine armour covered in snow and blood. What kept her going were cybernetics, drugs and sheer determination, even as tiredness set in.


The chit the mechanical reservoir - effectively a second heart - pumped into her bloodstream kept her body going when it should drop. It would probably shorten her life expectancy, but then she'd already lived for many years more than she'd expected when she left the slums of Kuat. Her gauntleted-frost covered fingers found the Irridonian talisman she'd been carrying with her since the days of her childhood. Her good-luck charm. She clutched it for one moment.


The assault continued. No way back, no way other than forward, into the jaws of death. At this stage, she acted on sheer instinct. Portable mortars had been brought up. The move had been perilious and many a Bombardier had fallen to his doom or been scythed by laser fire, but now they howled.


But it was bloody cold. The arctic chill interfered with her cybernetics. It was difficult to stay mobile when weighed down by armour. A vibroblade caught her in the side. She staggered, threatening to lose her footing and stumble. Her repulse-hand proved her salvation as it caught the blade. Using her rifle as an improvised club, she bludgeoned her opponent. It did not kill him, but it dazed him long enough for her to stabilise herself and thrust the tip of her bayonet into his throat.


He fell, drowning in his own blood. Contrary to popular belief, a cut throat was an immensely messy, painful death, not a quick one. She paid him no mind. Salvoes of multi-coloured laser beams filled the air, piercing the cloud of white caused by the snowstorm.


Instinct commanded her to keep running. To stab, beat, shoot. To duck, hit the dirt and crouch when the volleys became too intense. Let it not be said that a former Sergeant of the One Sith Stormtrooper Corps cowered. Let it not be said that the Iron Fist flinched. Savage war cries tore through the air as the Unproven, the young, eager warriors of the savage Kraal, charged. Berserkers they were, offered a chance at glory by Enyo Typhos. Brave, valorous men of Alderaan held the mountain peak, weathering the storm of the Iron Fist and the Last Fathers. It was time to kill them. Or die trying.


In the sky above the macabre dance of blades and guns, pandaemonium reigned. Like ravenous birds of prey, Sith and Alderaanian fighters fell upon one another. Their claws were laser cannons and missiles. The wrecks of fighter craft rained down upon the battlefield, a danger for anyone, no matter on which side he or she fought.


As the Alderaanian bombers came in hot, a hailstorm of flak fire greeted them. AA tanks unloaded their rockets and rotary cannons, troopers took aim for targets and fired their anti-air missiles. Many a bomber was struck and went down, causing magnificient fireballs. But enough came through to unleash Juranno's wroth. A good number of Howitzers and Self-Propelled Artillery Guns went up in smoke. It was an inferno, both beautiful and terrible to behold. Vehicles exploded, bodies were ripped apart or reduced to mutilated, burnt husks. Only very few bombers made it back.


New figures approached the field of battle, appearing at the left flank of Matsu Xiangu's forces, alongside her armoured column. With the snowstorm obscuring so much, they might have seemed like wraiths. Cyborgs, Battle Droids resembling humanoid skeletons, savage Kraal barbarians wielding huge warhammers, halberds and repeaters. Sitting atop a heavily armoured Rancor, Siobhan Kerrigan's mirror, more machine than woman, rode through the storm. Heavy phrik armour, kissed by frost and slowflakes, encased her body from head to toe. Enyo Typhos saw the blood-soaked, war-ravaged battlefield, the burning buildings and the deep craters blasted into the ground by artillery barrages. And she found that it was good.

 

[Rai Seren]

Children.

That meant there were others. What he said stoked something inside of her. She wasn't the only child of Asha Seren. Might there be others? He mentioned one, Kobe, was still alive. She had a brother. But the others, he'd killed them. By his own lips he'd admitted killing the other siblings she might have had. The rage inside of her threatened to boil over, calling her to draw upon the powers of bogan, to give into it as this cretin in front of her had. But she wouldn't. She would fight him, and if she were lucky she would kill him without a second thought, but she wouldn't succumb to the darkside to do it. This was for her family. For her mother. For the mothers and children that this monster and his kind had destroyed. For the ones they would continue to destroy. For unity. For peace. For balance.

"You slaughtered my family and countless others," she hissed at him, her feet moving her forward slowly down the hill.

She had the high ground, which she intended to keep, but she couldn't fight him as well from a distance as she could up close. Being a pupil of Stav Kesh, she had focused largely on combat growing up. Being the student of Toru Xevras, she had learned the Echani ways of fighting, and mastered the use of the saber pike because she preferred the reach it gave her, an advantage when she was decidedly smaller than most of the people that she faced off against. If she had known that she would be facing him that day, she would have brought other blades with her, but the pike would do. It was her most comfortable. Plus she also had herself. He wore armor, but if she were given time, she'd discover its weakness.

As she moved, she flicked her thumb to ignite her weapon, the white blade springing forth from the end. She spun it around in front of her and settled into an open stance where she still had several meters between herself and the beast of Panatha. Long had she searched for answers, and finally she had some of them, just as she faced the one who had killed her mother. Not just her mother. Much of her family. He and his ilk had to be made to pay for what they had done. If she had to start with the worst of them, then so be it. She wouldn't back down. She was not afraid.

This was what she was meant for.

"For that you will suffer."

She opened herself to the Force and let it flow into her weapon before moving swiftly in a jab aimed at his right wrist. Not the body. The armor was thick and undoubtedly resistant to lightsabers. Joints would be the weakest as he had to be able to move. She, light as a feather, would fight a war of attrition, not of brute force. And she aimed to use what he did against him. The length of the pike gave her reach, so long as she kept him at bay, and she remembered her master's teachings. Never open yourself and never over commit. A thousand quick strikes are better than a single powerful one. Words of sage wisdom from the Master of Stav Kesh. Had the old man been there, Kaine wouldn't have stood a chance.

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Prazutis]

​[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gbeDHODGaYc&list=RDgbeDHODGaYc[/media]​

The Shadow Hand merely nodded to his nephew as [member="Darth Carnifex"] left the great retinue alone. A force of hover chariots carrying the Crownguard were at the very front of a full Blackblade battalion stuffed into armored transports trailing close behind them. Prazutis slid the dark helmet on and he officially connected with the invasion of Alderaan resuming direct control over the invasion. A single order went out across the Sith Battlenet to all army commanders assaulting New Aldera from the highest echelons of Imperial command. "Cease bombardment and revert to selective striking. All forces prepare to advance on my mark."

New Aldera was a blasted hellscape, a shard of what it once was.

The Jen'Lazea opened up with thousands of artillery beginning an intense barrage that dropped over half a million shells in the first half hour of the conflict alone, a relentless barrage that continued until this very moment. Ruins of skyscrapers hung in the sky as fires burned in radiant storms all over the city, entire blocks in the worst areas were completely annihilated, consumed in rolling fires while others were buried under the rubble of fallen buildings and skyscrapers that came crashing down out of the sky like falling mountains. The once white clouds in the skies above were blacked with choking soot and ash.

Bodies were everywhere.

The bodies of many from the first crazed wave were just the start on the cities outskirts. Once the threshold of New Aldera's ruined defensive line were crossed they were everywhere, on every street, on top of and under piles of rubble, in craters and hanging out of windows from buildings that still stood. They were civilian and military alike for in the eyes of the monstrous artillery they were all targets, fleeing or not the bombardment did not discriminate. They were whole and parts all in different states blown apart, crushed, burned, exposed portions turning blue in the chilling cold and howling wind that swept down upon them. Only the fires brought heat and the stench of burning dead and dying into the air as screams from the wounded and trapped rang out. But when the artillery finally stopped it was haunting.

A haunting silence that echoed clear up to the mountains above as the artillery was ground to halt. But what replaced them was even worse. It started low with the rythmic booming of great war drums all across the miles of battle lines one after the other, it was like the beating heart of war ringing loud into the air for all to hear. But it was followed by something that sent shivers down the spine.

The Jen'Lazea began to chant.

​It rose loud through the wicked maws of every bloodthirsty monster that could raise its voice and join in, just three words said over and over until it boomed like thunder reaching high into the mountains. A hair raising chant that was followed by stomping feet repeating over and over.

"Mazauk agh Matum"

​In their dark language it was the creed of the Jen'Lazea 'War and Death' they shouted into the heavens through growls and roars. The orders readying them to advance swept through like an infectious virus as the graug moved out of their tunnel garrisons readying in columns just beneath the trench lines. They were hungry for battle and the anticipation crawled across their skin.

Then it came.

​Darth Prazutis glided through on his holocharriot at the head of a great conquering army, he stood like Nereus himself with the flowing red cloak draped over his shoulders trailing in the howling wind. The twenty Crownguard rode in chariots like guardian angels behind him and behind them came the Blackblade Guard in their troop transports. He spoke a single word through the battlenet then just as they made it right through and over the battle lines of the graug his army crossing into no man's land.

"Mark."

There was an explosion of roars through the miles of battle lines, easily climbing high into the air as the full horde was unleashed. They emerged like a seething horde of troops and hulking beasts over the lines, a dark tide surging behind the tip of the spear that was the Dark Titan. Monsters including the wicked Graunk, hulking Warghests, Glycons the size of castle towers with full combat harnesses strapp​ed to their backs.

The voice of the Destroyer came across the battlenet to all forces from the supreme commander that was the Shadow Hand "Everything is proceeding as planned. We shall accept nothing less than total unconditional surrender. They have but two choices: Surrender or Annihilation." ​They began their entry into the city then his chariot the first to cross over the gap of the enemies former battle line.

The palace would be their target.

[member="Six-O"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Rai Seren"] | [member="Kor Vexen"] ​

 

[Saeva]

Location: Alderaan, outskirts of Jurrano
Objective: Bring about the destruction of Jurrano
Allies: TSE
Enemies: TSE haterz
Equipment: Standard armour | Standard lightsaber | Standard blaster pistol

The bombardment of the city carried on without mercy. Metal held no sentimentality towards the flesh. All would be reduced to ash and rubble. Or not. It didn’t care. The frontlines had exchanged volleys for quite a bit. Now was the time to enter into the next phase. Voahan got the notice that him and his reserve unit would be called upon to start pushing the front further towards the city. By then the artillery would seize and give them the chance to flood the city without threat of friendly fire. Or not. There was a good chance it didn’t care. This was chaos, and only the strong survived.

The order for the company to move out was given. Voahan was not in charge. He was no one. Just another reassuring red saber placed in relative proximity to the infantry, give them a sense that their mythical overlords were there protecting them. An agent of the Sith. In many ways a free agent. Would he forward his application to the Sith Assassins? Or the Saaraishash? He hadn’t quite decided. Maybe he would just do his own thing and maintain a low profile.

Screams of agony, fury and war was all around him. Idris was sure the voices were louder on the other side of the field. But all he heard from here was pain manifested in one of its many forms coming from his allies. His body slammed into some makeshift cover that was being used by a squad of soldiers. Those next to him nearly jumped away in terror, but it quickly became clear that they were on the same side. After an awkward pause, as if they expected him to bark out orders, they went back to returning fire as soon as it became clear he wouldn’t.

For a split moment he dared glance over the barricades at the smoke and mist ahead of him. A split moment was all he was allowed, as a deep, instinctive pang of fear pulled his head back down. Three blaster bolts whizzed by the area where his head had been, two more slamming into his cover. He hadn’t been able to make out any clear enemy position. Just a torrent of red and green shooting towards them.

After a couple deep breaths, the soldier next to him crouched up and let loose from his rifle, firing into enemy lines. Others darted up and down now and then, but this one refused to let down. His head snapped back as finally the enemy did him in, and he collapsed next to them, still. Idris’ could feel the shock, fear, and hate filling those members of the squad who had registered it. They wanted revenge. It could paralyze them, or drive them to similar actions that would have them all killed.

“Enough of this” Idris muttered words of metallic frustration before rising to his feet, igniting with a hiss his crimson blade. “Form behind me. Melt them down” he suggested, as he stepped in front of the cover. Swift motion of hand and mind deflected and redirected incoming blaster fire. Meanwhile a group of four or five took position behind him, laying down a steady stream of fire. The red lightsaber drew attention to him, and Idris felt an increase of intensity steadily rising the longer he stood there. Yet the fact that the soldiers behind him were offered a more secure protection allowed them to return fire with minimal risk, until he was gone. It was a shaky balance, where he offered protection but drew aggro, which could only be alleviated by the squad returning the favour by offering sufficient support. On the grand scale of the battle’s entirety, this was all largely insignificant, but for Idris and the couple of men and women behind him it was life or death. Pick your marks well.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Better Jedi than you have died trying."

Without lifting a finger he activated the internal components of his armor, the magcoils gently humming with energy as the localized magnetic field around his body was engaged. It would protect him from everything other than a direct stab from the girl's lightsaber, which he would be quick to avoid at all costs.

He spun his lightsaber down in a circular arc, catching the ultrachrome emitter of her weapon with his three meter long blade and diverting it off course from his wrist.

Carnifex then followed through with his momentum to unleash a flurry of ferocious attacks with his massive weapon, the blade's length affording him great reach where a normal lightsaber would fall short. Though the girl may have trained with gifted teachers, the Emperor had nearly forty years of combat training and experience to guide him. His senses were heightened beyond that of mortal men, and though his two-point-five meter tall body was a large target, he enhanced his speed and reflexes with the Force.

He not only used the Force to enhance his body's reflexes, but to also combo his lightsaber strikes with tactical applications of the Force against his opponent. A strike at the knees with a telekinetic burst, or a shove through the Force to break concentration.

The Emperor would use and exploit any advantage given to him.

[member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Rai Seren"]​