Dominion The Bryn'adûl | Dominion of Nadiem

[Primal Architect]

The Bryn'adûl | Dominion of Nadiem

​

For the second time in their conquest, the Bryn'adûl came upon a planet seemingly rendered dead by its own inhabitants. What few plots of population that had once been filled with weakling existence has been packed up and evacuated. Unlike Maldra, those who had lived here had ran to die another day. Their escape was inconsequential, and Nadiem would be ours. Some few brave souls remain planet-side, they will meet their ends at the hand of a superior species. A noble death that will serve greater purpose than their lives ever could.

OBJECTIVE A - The Last Stand
In one of the larger farming towns on Nadiem, a little over a hundred life signs have been detected. Atmospheric imagery has shown series of trenches and tunnels have been dug inside and surrounding the town. A hundred elite soldiers of the Republic Remnant have taken up a defensive position inside and around the Farming Town in a three mile radius, carrying staves, armed with personal shielding. They know the Bryn'adûl are coming, and are ready to die for their home-world. Overhead, a Bryn'adûl Carrier releases hundreds of thousands of troops to the planet surface. They will drown in their own blood.

OBJECTIVE B - Going for the Throat
A lone Jedi faces off against the Chieftain of the Bryn'adûl in a contest of wills and skill at the derelict Jedi Enclave.

BRYN'ADUL - Tathra Khaeus | Hraelga Nacht | Primarch Drek'ma | Hrajlmak'Natok | Sarask Hiskt | Galak
DEFENDERS - Jend-Ro Quill | Ever Dawnracer | Maokai Bantam |

 

[Jend-Ro Quill]

OBJECTIVE B (SOLO)

The Nadiem Jedi enclave, like the world, sat silent. Not long ago it had played host to tens of thousands of people and dozens of evacuation ships. Now Quill treasured his solitude for what might be the last time.

Sitting on the edge of the enclave's roof, he looked out over the torn-up fields. He cleared his throat and activated the recording function on his datapad.

"This message is for Auteme Denko-Durren . I know you were never formally my Padawan, but you've been the closest thing I ever really had, and a great research assistant. I just wanted to thank you for that. And I'm sorry to put this on you.

"This isn't a death message if I can help it, but I figured at least one Jedi should know what I've done. There was a meeting - a whole lot of Jedi, most of them young Knights, wanted to charge off and try to kill the Bryn'adul leader. I'm all for eliminating him, but they're going to get themselves killed for a low chance of success. And I'm not saying I've got a better one, but a chance is a chance, right? So I've done a little visionary work with the Windspeaker saber, and I think I can draw the Drael patriarch out personally with that Suerton probability manipulation we studied together. I've got backup plans, I don't intend to die here unless it's to accomplish what I came to try. The Force tells me this can go any which way. The future's not set. There's no fate but what we make for ourselves.

"You're a good kid, Auteme, and a great fething Jedi. You're one of the few true bridges between Wyatt's Order and Elise's, and you always have been. Give it ten years and you'll be running the place. Take care of yourself."

He bounced the message through a location baffle so it couldn't be traced to Nadiem. He also gave it a one-hour delay. Then he sat there on the roof and waited for Tathra Khaeus to answer the Force-borne call of a manufactured and open-ended destiny.

 

[Ever Dawnracer]

​

OBJECTIVE A

The time had come. For some time they had been planning for what they knew was coming. Ever had returned from isolation on Ciomia because of this very event. She'd wished for the grandness of the Republic Remnant fleet flying above them. Shield ships blocking the attacks of the enemy cruisers while destroyers and long-range gunships popped out from behind their safety to fire at them. Whittle the enemy down as they approach. Kill as many of them as possible before they'd landed. She'd also hoped that she'd have a full army to assist her when the enemy came for combat. The reality, however, was never what one wanted, and only what you were given.

She stared up at the sky, surprised when they did submit them to an orbital bombardment. Perhaps there was some sort of honor to these monsters that she hadn't expected. Or perhaps they just relished the battle so much that they couldn't waste the opportunity to crush an inferior enemy. If that was the case they were the furthest thing from honorable, and also the furthest they could be from true strength. I expect it's the latter and that they can't resist the thrill of battle, even when they have the superior force, she thought, watching as the dropships began to fall, bringing the enemy footsoldiers closer to the battlefield. The only control Ever and her compatriots had over the fight was in choosing the location. They would take advantage of it.

Somewhere in the vicinity, Micah tol Powl was also preparing for the battle, Ever was certain. The young man was doing more for the galaxy than most would, and all he was doing was sacrificing himself on a world that had been evacuated of civilians. Truly he had no reason to expend his life for Nadiem, not in the way that she did. Nadiem was her home. It was the world where she was born and grew up. The very village she stood on the outskirts of, surrounded by one hundred of the finest warriors the galaxy had ever known, had been her home, and held the ruins of her family's farm.

"Today is not so much an important day for Nadiem," she said into the communications system she wore inside the helmet. "The galaxy has long sought to take from this world and leave it to rot in its wake. The Republic we used to serve was even guilty of this. This is exactly why we, the Republic-In-Exile's Rangers, will not abandon this world without a fight."

The first dropship of the enemy was landing, and she stood on the lip of a trench, staring across. Her compatriots had their weapons at the ready, their own plans for the battle situated. It would be a guerilla war. The entire city and a three-mile perimeter around it was laced with trenches full of primitive pitfall traps and hiding tunnel entrances. It wasn't so much meant to stop the enemy as it was designed to allow them to move around, pop up in a new location, and attack before disappearing again. It would be a short war of attrition, but they would take some down with them, and the few who survived would leave in the Shadow Fall, buried in the distance.

"This fight is more than a defense of Nadiem. Everyone flees in the face of this foe. They are strong, and those who fear the strong choose to flee instead of face down the enemy. Today, though we are outnumbered, we will show the galaxy that even a small force with determination can be a thorn in the side of a great enemy. Enough thorns and the enemy bleeds to death.

"Let us show these beasts that this galaxy is not theirs for the taking! Let us fight for justice, honor and the Republic!"

 

[Micah tol Powl]

Objective A
Wearing: Armor of Boo | Terentatek Ring
Wielding: Broodica's Grimoire | Azi the Amphistaff | Lightsaber
Tags: Ever Dawnracer

When the First Order had invaded the Alliance, he'd worn the armor of a Knight of Ren.

When the Primeval had burned Wayland, he'd worn the standards of the Host Lord's Golden Banner.

Now, in contrast to the intimidating armor of the Ren or the utilitarian fare of the Primeval, the violet-haired spellweaver was attired in the fur and leather trappings of MIdvinter. A sable colored fur framed his head, as the boy stepped out into the village and looked up at the sky.

He could feel it. It was a mere whisper now, an ill wind that blew into the village where the former Republic soldiers had taken up their vigil.

Something wicked this way comes, but that much they had been expecting.

He had donned the ring that he had fashioned from out of the same terentatek that had poisoned him on Tash-Taral, all those years ago. The Dark Side power that permeated it called to the venom in his blood now. It reminded the Sithspawn of just what he was, but it would aid him in reading from the book should such be required.

He was an assassin, not a soldier. So, undoubtedly, he would need to read from the book at some point.

He may have been poisoned by the Dark Side of the Force, but the choice remained his what he did with that curse. And if he could get something good to come of it by defending this homestead, then it was a goal worth fighting for.

Amber eyes peered over at where Ever seemed to be readying her troops.

It wouldn't be long now.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

OBJECTIVE - B [SOLO]

"He is alone." Somehow, the Seers had known the Enclave was required. They demanded it remain untouched.

This was why. No doubt.

Tathra would attend the invitation of the Jedi, whilst Bryn'adûl forces would lead a fatal blow against the defenders at the Farm.

Below the Jedi Master, the grand oak tree's branches would dance in a synthetic wind as a pearlescent white circle would be born from nothing just beyond the left of the tree in the outer courtyards. The circle would be formed from pure white energy, circling in tendrils as it cut through the ground like butter - streaks of pure black energy forming in the epicentre of the circle as one could feel the universe scream, the void seemingly summoned.

From within, a singular entity would approach. Clad in silver armour laced with gold trimmings, the red vapour of the Axe igniting as it peered through the void. Aureate opaque eyes finding the lingering Jedi a top of the rooftop, staring from the darkness as the Chieftain of the Bryn'adûl stepped out from the miasma of force energy.

Tathra stood, holding the Axe aloft in his left hand as he looked from the Jedi Master to the Oak tree. The air shifted, its density almost suffocating as the presence of the Titan became like a gravity well; leeching all of the life from their surroundings as everything grew terribly still. The portal closed behind him.

Quill was one of a handful who had survived a direct encounter with Tathra. Yet the Jedi Master had returned, his actions spoke. Though Tathra didn't know of what - Yet. For once, he was curious. Curious eyes shifted from the Oak to the Jedi.

"[Basic:] Quill."

- Jend-Ro Quill

 

[Hrajlmak'Natok]

Objective: A
Post: 1
Units:

Spoiler

Savage Drones
Drones
Brutes
Rhivaks
Skags

Tags: Tathra Khaeus / Hraelga Nacht / Primarch Drek'ma / Sarask Hiskt / Galak // Micah tol Powl Ever Dawnracer / Maokai Bantam

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

No longer were the Bryn'adul an unknown shadow in the Outer Rim. Now, the Galaxy was conscious and aware of the great conquest, and it was bracing itself for a fight it had not seen in too long. But Nadiem would not be the stage for the Galaxy's first push against a rapidly advancing foe. Instead, Nadiem lay empty, its inhabitants conceding it to the insatiable Draelvasier war-machine, hoping to preserve their livelihood at the expense of their home. But none could make such a bargain. There was no escape, no matter how far you ran. Every star of every horizon was now a target.

Hrajlmak's pod slammed into the ground, followed by a vast compliment of similar pods, each carrying scores of troops. Hrajlmak stepped out of his pod and took a deep breath. The air was temperate, the wind was calm. Ahead lay the target town, and between himself and the target, fields and fields of farmland. Now dug up and retrofitted with basic defensive structures. What immediately struck him though, was the serenity. The wind gently passed over the grass floor. It's only disturbance being the distant humdrum of native fauna. Hrajlmak's troops amassed themselves behind him while he analysed the field of battle.

The defenders were few. The city perimeter was a maze of trenches. Hrajlmak knew, as usual, the invasion force vastly outnumbered and outgunned the defense. He would split his assault into two stages; trench assault and siege.

He concluded his thoughts and, on cue, his force rearranged itself behind him, his wordless orders obeyed. Savage drones lined up at the helm, organizing into a strong wedge. The savage wedge was followed by a wall of brutes and drones. Before the wedge wold charge the trenches however, they needed to be softened up. Rhivak artillery broke Nadiem's serenity and began to shell the trenches indiscriminately with focused beams of energy. Behind Hrajlmak, the army began to oscillate. Dance among the Baedurin began, filling the air with aggressive stomps and shouts. The tribal song of war echoed across Nadiem. For this world, like countless others, its conclusion would ring the beginning of annihilation.

Hrajlmak raised his staff high, its crimson curved blade burst into existence. He filled his lungs with air, swung his staff downward and let out a bellowing roar. The wedge of thousands of savage drones began a fevered sprint toward the trenches. Once they made contact, they would spread out and fill the trenches, purging any life they found with tooth and claw. Hrajlmak and the wall of armed Sraelvun and Baedurin followed close behind.

 

[Galak]

Objective A - Their Last Stand
Post: 1
Tags: Ever Dawnracer | Micah tol Powl
Forces: Drones, Seekers, Savage Drones, Sirracus Wyrm, Brutes

"Duty! Hruah! Strength! Hruah!"

The Brutes of the 10th Regiment performed a Haka of greater repetition as the Heldrak Dropships thundered down toward the large farming town. Galak slapped his left hand against his right bicep, stomping the Errindak Steel underfoot as he moved in synchronisation with his Warriors.

"Unity! Hruah! We fight together, Brutes of the 10th!" The Brutes growled in their mothertongue, Galak slamming his fists into the apex of his chest. The air rumbling with the resounding sound of hundreds of Brutes with the strength of thirty men crashed their crimson fists into silver plate. Pride rose in the Brute Marauders visage as he looked on to the best soldiers of the Bryn'adûl. The 10th Regiment had no equal. His Brutes, the Baedurin - the fist of the Chieftain.

Being a Marauder made no change for the Baedurin Warriors allegiance to the 10th Regiment of the Brutes. They would forever he his kin, equal Warriors.

The Heldrak Dropships landed inside the Large Farming Town, crushing buildings under the weight of their massive dropships. Galak's forces would deploy four-hundred Seekers into the underground tunnels of their enemies, the tiny creatures grinding through the earth as soon as they touched down; some thirty Sirracus Wyrms would begin to enter the tunnels as well.

Even from here, the Marauder could see the Warlock's forces had already begun bombarding the enemy trenches with Rhivak fire. Galak raised his gauntlet; "Warlock Natok, deploy your Savage Drones and find whatever traps they may have; locate the entrances to these tunnels. I've deployed the underground forces. We'll bury these fools."

On half a dozen planets, including Kesh - the Deep Space Coalition had fought with similar tactics. However they were much greater in number and resource; this pitiful rabble's grasp of battle was little more than a sheepish attempt at warfare. They were lucky the Chieftain wasn't here personally, though the Marauder doubted his attendance to the Jedi Enclave would be a long one.

Galak felt the fuel of his fire, the Brutes of the 10th Regiment were at his side.

 

[Jend-Ro Quill]

NADIEM JEDI ENCLAVE - EVACUATED​

OBJECTIVE B - SOLO

" Tathra Khaeus . That's your name, isn't it?"

Quill kept the high ground for the moment, but stood up, right there on the edge of the enclave. He glanced at the closing rift for confirmation of what he'd sensed through the talents that the life-weavers had shown him here and there: the Draelvasier had the secret of spacetime portals. Perhaps Tathra had stood on the Draelvasier homeworld a moment ago, whatever and wherever that was. Perhaps his Darksiders had sent him from the scene of yet another genocide.

Down below Quill was a large, semicircular courtyard, the enclave's main entranceway. He hopped off the roof and landed in front of the enclave's door. His eyes tightened as he took in Tathra's bulk. Had the Drael patriarch somehow grown even larger? Gene therapy of some kind, self-mutation perhaps?

"Thank you for coming. You should know that I intend to kill you if I can. You're personally responsible for the genocides of the Kubaz, the Glottalphibs, the Keshiri, and half a dozen other sapient species. I don't see you agreeing not to murder any others. Would that be a...realistic assessment, Tathra?"

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Tathra nodded in response to the query, raising his right foot against the bronze shaded metal step that lead to the Oak Tree. Right hand braced against his thigh as the red vapour leeched upward to the branches of the tree, embers flickering from them molten heat as stray leaves began to catch fire. His eyes shy'd away from the Jedi as he so abruptly stated what both already knew, pushing the temptation to take his skull deep into the recesses of his stomach.

The Jedi was here to try and stop him. To stop the truth. To spread the plague, the cancerous weakness that made all of this Universes creations so pitifully weak. Genocides? Yes, he was personally responsible. Pride swelled in him as his head raised slightly, looking back to the Jedi Master now.

He was cleaner, thinner even too maybe. What Quill did not understand was proven by his own existence, he was a child of Khaeus as the Primarch woud put it. Tathra had made him stronger, he could smell it on him. The Titan smiled.

"[Basic]: I saved them. They have served a greater purpose than they could ever know."

- Jend-Ro Quill

 

[Jend-Ro Quill]

OBJECTIVE B (SOLO)


Quill's cheek twitched as he got a whiff of...pride? Satisfaction?

"I'd imagine you speak of your people becoming stronger, but how does one grow stronger by killing only the weak-"

His breath caught in his throat.

"Oh. I think I see. I know you despise weakness in...everything and everyone. But it's not the people you despise, is it, so long as they can...rise above, become stronger. You think you're honing the galaxy. Honing people like me. Challenging us to strengthen ourselves. Now maybe that's all speculation, but - have I guessed right? Do you see the Draelvasier as the galaxy's...forge, Tathra?"

It was disgusting, of course, but he'd spent a long career trying to see things from the other's point of view, no matter how otherwise incomprehensible, and he wasn't about to stop now. Even though he definitely needed to kill this man.

If humanly possible.

Tathra Khaeus

 

[Maokai Bantam]

OBJECTIVE A - The Last Stand
Kit- in Bio and CRYO-GUN from this post and offered to defenders by Jend-Ro Quill

"No your not fething, coming back for me Csi'elvan'dara, I gave you an order. The Bryn'adul are here and our job is to get those refuges to safety now stay in hyperspace, get those folks to Sliver space. Mako out!"

He was really in the poodoo now, having stayed one pickup to long he had ordered the Lacuna Gaucho to hyperspace and out of danger well ahead of the organic hoard making planetfall. That did little to help him now. Having retreated back to the farm village and the fething fools who had refused to evacuate he watched from behind one of the trenches in the back of the defense. The word swarm didn't do justice to what he was witnessing deploy before him. As wave after wave of demonic looking murder machines formed up behind their bloody banners and war idols he knew this may be his last mission.

"This is gonna hurt..."

Galak Hrajlmak'Natok Micah tol Powl Ever Dawnracer

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective A - Their Last Stand
Post: One
Tags: Micah tol Powl Hrajlmak'Natok Galak Ever Dawnracer Maokai Bantam

The Primarch had no interest in the squabbles of the remaining dwellers of this planet. His attention was focused on the performance of the newly made Warlock and the organisation of their troops. A hundred soldiers was no great effort, however the Chieftain had delayed the arrival of the Servitors to the field.

As per usual, he did not wish for them to grow complacent with the use of magnificent beasts. The Primarch knew the value of them but also the value of individual strengths.

The Primarch stood at the back of the Bryn'adûl horde, watching silently as he awaited for the battle to unfold.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

The insight of a Master was always interesting. The force spoke to many in different ways, maybe Quill was subconsciously reading his thoughts. It didn't matter, but ultimately the Jedi did not understand and never would. He had made Quill stronger, but that strength ultimately would serve to increase Tathra's own, it was too late for this Galaxy. Far too late. Quill was brave, but ultimately he was tool. Whether he knew it or not, that usefulness was a greater purpose that would save him from this existence.

"[Basic]: I will tear this Galaxy down to its last atom. Then I will rebuild it in our image. A stronger, better world."

Tathra's eyes shifted to the tree, its leaves fully engulfed in the fire now. That was it - times up. The Jedi was here to take on the Titan alone, saving others once again. But who was he saving now? The people of this planet had been evacuated. Perhaps he wished to save those who wished to attempt the same thing.

Ah - That was it. Tathra's stance shifted, the angle of his Axe moving slightly.

"[Basic]: But I have to thank you. Now I know they're coming."

Without another word, Tathra swung from left to right at the base of the Oak Tree; the blade cutting clean from one side to another as the Titan grasped the mid-length of the massive tree in his right hand, crimson fingers digging deep into the bark as he effortlessly flung the severed Oak Tree directly at the doorway where Quill stood.

- Jend-Ro Quill

 

[Jend-Ro Quill]

OBJECTIVE B (SOLO)
Tathra Khaeus


The tree had to weigh hundreds of kilos, but the massive Bryn'adul sent it flying. From their fight on Vasar, Quill remembered Tathra's disproportionate speed and strength. Even with the Force as his ally, blocking Tathra's strikes had been a painful experience. Precognition would play a major role here: Quill certainly didn't have the strength to match, and might not have the speed.

He went low, a duck and roll from his left shoulder to right hip, easier since he hadn't drawn a saber yet. The tree's bulk rushed over him and plowed through the front door and its surrounding wall. Huge, broken branches protruded from collapsing stonework. Green leaves fluttered loose before their time in a fluttering torrent. Quill's brief roll brought him back up to his feet. He sprinted for Tathra. The purified saber of Sylus Ren fit his hand snugly, metal crossguard flat against the top of his fist, and its blue-white blade hissed to molten life.

So far as intelligence analysts could determine and Jedi could report, Tathra and the other large Drael had energy-resistant plating inside and out. Finding a gap in that plating would be a matter of trial, error, and instinct. He drew on the Force in the manner of the Suerton and bent probability - but instead of a good hand of cards, he was after a much richer pot.

There were some who said Quill's skillset was unsuited to combat, and they had a point. He hadn't learned what he'd learned with combat in mind. After a few decades of experimentation and sad experience, though, he had a good sense of how and when his more esoteric skills applied. Like using probability manipulation to chance upon an otherwise-unknown weak spot, if one existed. The saber lanced out for Tathra's knotted left hand as Quill twisted his body to avoid the axe's most probable angle.

 

[Ever Dawnracer]

Objective A
Post: 2
Allies: Micah tol Powl | Maokai Bantam
Enemies: Primarch Drek'ma | Galak | Hrajlmak'Natok
Gear: See Signature

The first thing of note was the creatures that disappeared upon appearance. She could only speculate, but it seemed likely they'd brought something that could dig. She expected they'd spotted the trenches from orbit, which meant they'd been prepared and were planning to come at them from all angles. Their combat plan was going to have to be modified as a result, but she saw no reason to fret over it. Death was certain for the majority of her people. It would come for her at some point, too. Fretting over the inevitable would just be a waste of time. The goal was to take as many of them down with them as possible.

"Plan alteration!" she called into her communicator. "Execute delta maneuver!"

It was a simple alteration. Instead of proceeding to their long-distance destinations beneath the surface, they would utilize secondary exit points that had been built in for emergency egress. It would necessitate that they move more above ground, which opened them to attack from the drones and other things, but she was certain they could handle it given their standard gear. They were built for fights such as these. All of them had volunteered for the task, as well. They would fight tooth and nail to take as many creatures with them as was possible. They could fight all the way across the planet if need be.

With her people gone, it left only her facing down the hoard, but that was intentional. She was now counting on their desire for battle glory. Rolling her neck in a maneuver that would signal to her gaiter to remove itself, she also tossed aside her stave. For her it would be useless in what was coming. Instead, she reached around with both hands to the small of her back and grabbed the hilts of the Ahktar before pulling them free. As the gaiter slithered into its waiting place, she felt the pull of the blades consciousness on her mind. Allowing it in, she felt its call to fight.

"Send forth your leader!" she shouted across the battlefield, amplifying her voice with strategically placed speaker systems. "I will fight you unless you're too scared to face me!"

If they were anything like most species, they would find what she said offensive. They would relish the chance to squash her like a bug. She was anticipating only two possibilities: that they would come forth and fight her in front of their army, stopping their bombardment of the trenches that didn't even cause her to tremble, or they would shrug it off and send their hordes for her, in which case she would fight them in a methodical retreat until they overcame her, leaving numerous dead in her wake. It was up to them, but she did, frankly, hope their leader had guts enough to come and fight her, a single foe on a battlefield which they dominated.

 

[Hrajlmak'Natok]

Objective: A
Post: 1
Units:
Spoiler

Tags: Tathra Khaeus / Hraelga Nacht / Primarch Drek'ma / Sarask Hiskt / Galak // Micah tol Powl Ever Dawnracer / Maokai Bantam

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Marauder Galak's words quickly became telepathic orders. In the trenches, savage drones switched their focus from slaughtering everything that moved to filling any tunnel, hole or trap, often sacrificing themselves to pitfalls in the process. As thousands of semi-sentient Drael dogs flooded the geurilla tunnel networks, Hrajlmak and his wave of brutes and sentient drones came close enough to the frontline to begin opening fire on the trenches. Molten spiker rounds ripped through the meager defense, being fired by troops who's mental acuity was far above standard due to Hrajlmak's presence.

Hrajlmak himself emerged from behind the front of his troops and filled the area ahead of him with a red inferno, spewing fire from his free hand. He dropped into the trench, grabbed a remnant soldier by the head, threw him to the ground and rammed the pommel end of his staff into the figure's chest. To his surprise, the staff made contact with nothing but air. The soldier hurriedly scrambled out from between Hrajlmak's legs and dived into a hidden exit. Deprived of a fight, Hrajlmak moved further onward. The enemy continued to make a strategic retreat, conceding land without much fight. They moved across trench after trench, making steady progress toward the farming town ahead. Further down the line an explosion, followed by an intense firefight. The engagement seemed over as quick as it had started. Hrajlmak peered into what he thought was a hole when a series of blaster bolts returned his gaze, smacking into his chest and grazing his face. He coiled back and several rangers burst from the shadows. They threw detonators left right and center, fired every bolt they had with incredible accuracy and disappeared back into the hole. "Flush them out!" Hrajlmak roared once he'd composed himself. Several brute grenadiers stepped up and filled the hole with explosives.

When the demand echoed across the battlefield, Hrajlmak was itching for a proper fight. He switched his attention to locating the source of the voice, only too happy to step in for the otherwise occupied Chieftain. "Marauder Galak, continue on to the objective. My troops will arrive shortly. I will find the voice". Hrajlmak became possessive of this voice. He knew there were beings to fight in the town, but this one was his.

On a battlefield so tragically empty, Hrajlmak approached the one thing he was here for. The woman, a human from what he could see, stood with blades in hand. What she was doing was lost to him. She was alone, minimally armed and pathetically weak. But Hrajlmak didn't care. He was practically shaking in anticipation of burying claws in flesh. An arm that was visibly immolated, nearly to the bone, from a previous fight wrapped a tight grip around his staff. He strode across the charred grass field toward this lone woman. He bared his teeth in an animal grin. That was his only greeting. He dashed forward to close the gap between them.

The woman was small and fast, that much he knew just by looking at her. With one hand near the top and the other in the middle, Hrajlmak began with a fast and heavy downswing toward her shoulder, making sure that any block or dodge could be quickly followed by an uppercut with the staff's sharp pommel.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

When the Jedi moved, Tathra moved forward two steps, assuming a defensive stance, holding the Long-Axe at the mid-length as the Jedi closed the distance, moving within the range of the Axe. Even with the Axe held at the mid-length there was nearly four feet before Quill was in range.

As the Jedi swung for his hand Tathra moved to manipulate the Long-Axe, its weight incredibly light in his grasp - he raised his arm above the arc of the blade, using that momentum as he turned his wrist inward, bringing the upper length of the Axe low and behind Quill's blade, whether caught by the hook of the beard of by the shaft of the weapon; the blade would be pushed to overextend.

At the same time, Tathra brought his right foot forward; striking at Quills throat, his hand shaped life a knife to shatter his mastoid, and put him on the back foot.

- Jend-Ro Quill

 

[Jend-Ro Quill]

OBJECTIVE B (SOLO)

Tathra Khaeus ' significant reach advantage made temporarily closing the distance imperative. As that long axe swatted the saber away - or tried, at least - Quill deactivated his weapon in an expert Trakata move and went low. Tathra's wrecking ball of a right hand rushed past, just above his head.

At which point Quill's other saber, his own saber, went live in his left hand. The blue-hot plasma jutted straight up, aiming to impale the wrist or take off a finger.

A heartbeat later, Quill slid smoothly back, both sabers deactivated again. He found his feet just outside Tathra's reach - a relative position that would last moments at most. Though he'd given ground, his balance stayed as nimble as it had ever been.

The Force strongly suggested that Tathra had plenty of options over and above his insane strength. Even with precognition, Quill would need to think on his feet.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

The deactivation of the Jedi's blade was a tactic most did not use, but he had seen it before. The motion of the Axe's outward swing brought the lower length of the weapon beneath his underarm, the pommel of the Axe pressed into his underarm - stopping the momentum easily.

The dagger hand strike was dodged, a second saber igniting into the Gauntlet worn over his wrist, the material of his armour making the blow ineffectual; Tatha turned his wrist as to bring the blade to the right of the Gauntlet, stepping in closer as the Jedi moved to back away. Tathra would've went for his wrist if he didn't disengage.

Instead he swung the Axe upward, anchoring from the length of the shaft under his arm in a concise and incredibly quick strike; releasing a semi-circular kinetic blast from the weapons head that flew across the small distance between them to cut Quill in half.

- Jend-Ro Quill

 

[Jend-Ro Quill]

Tathra Khaeus

So the armour was lightsabre-proof - valuable information, but a little irrelevant to Quill's survival at this precise second. That red-crystal axe was bigger than he was. He had plenty of wariness toward it, and the Force whispered that it was more than it seemed.

The energy discharge met a quick Force barrier and tore through, albeit in a weakened form. A line of fire slashed up and across Quill's chest. The burst's impact on him and his barrier threw him off his feet, back to the broken tree. He went low and skidded on his boot soles, keeping his eyes on Tathra. A fresh, angry weal marked Quill's chest, and his robes were cut clean, smouldering at the edges. He cracked his neck and straightened up, one deactivated lightsaber in each hand.

With the tangle of cracked wood and stone behind him, and the semicircular courtyard's low walls sweeping out to either flank, this could become a killzone very quickly. The axe's ranged ability changed the game somewhat. Quill leaped up, a basic Force jump, and landed on the edge of the roof. If he could lure Tathra up there, the roof might not support the Drael's immense weight. The crumbling mass of a Jedi enclave might bog him down, do some damage, slow him for a killing strike.

Also there was a trap, but not one Quill was ready to use.