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[ Flúgva valkyrjur á val ] <"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
Ironically, the parents respected and acknowledged each other, but it was only a matter of moments for their children to be enemies. In fact, Eina was special, as she was not biologically the child of Adrian and Ingrid, but the forces and energies released from their souls formed the first Valkyrja. It was for this reason that the woman's Force Signature was as if someone had blended Prospero and L'lerim Force Signature together. Anyone who knows the parents will surely recognize this, and may even believe for a moment that Vandiir is alive again. And Darth Mori knew both of them, so that was why the upcoming meeting turned out to be interesting.
But the ladies didn't know each other yet. Eina has been equipped with several explosives inside the superconstruct since she was here inside. The Valkyrja also watched the communication. It was really easy enough to move here, the place was big, it wasn’t crowded and a lot of people went outside because of the siege. This creates perfect conditions for those inside, including Eina. And she did not love one thing in such places: the energy fields.
In immaterial form, she had just crossed one of the walls and reached a corridor when she suddenly collided with the invisible energy wall. She could not even pass through these immaterially, so she immediately struck herself and fell to the ground in physical form. This was accompanied by the inconvenience that her aura also became sensible, because thus her presence was not hidden in the Force. She hoped there was no Force User nearby and no one felt her.
She got up from the ground and straightened her clothes; now she needs a few more seconds to regain her original, immaterial form…
Braktus said a quick word to the avatars watching over them a prayer for the fallen Gerald. The Ogre who stood nearly ten and half feet tall (3.2 M) was never one for the dark arts of magick or the force. He understood it necessity and purpose, but he much preferred the simpler shamanistic arts of beast and Nature magicks. That was why he choose to follow Khaostra, she had a way of wielding nature like he had never seen. She didn’t focus on the reviving of the dead or sapping of life like so many in the Maw and even other darksider cults. So, as he finished his prayer he only had one thing on his mind the mission and new position Khaos had just granted him.
He picked up his two hefty axes at his side as he heard the fighting going on near the cruisers in the distance. He looked to his packs of Wardogs and to Kitiakira near him. “Word has come, I am now Khaos’s second, Gerald has passed he is one with avatars now and his rebirth will be magnificent.” The Giant Ogre’s voice boomed out to his men near by as he hefted his axe onto his shoulders. “We know what we came here for and time we continue that mission.”
As he said that fire began to emerge from the swamp around them and his eyes widened as several more of his men were cut down. Though some shots went wildly astray due to the mist of ion energy as the storm started to roll in. Without hesitation the Kitiakira returned fire onto the swamp, and started forming firing lines on there section of the swamp. They where heavily outnumber been then again when wasn’t the Maw outnumbered. What they didn’t have in numbers they made up for in sheer dedication and savagery.
The lines drew there Lightening cannons and grenade launchers. The Lightening cannons started with Volly’s of beamed lightening into the swamp and ionized gas. The lightening striking the water of the swamp electrifying and the arcs of lighting hitting the ionized mist magnetizing it. If the ionized air didn’t screw with their sensors magnetized air would just about screw with any kind of metal electronics. Then the grenade launchers through volly’s in between the lightening arcs, the launchers were Chemical Load Grenades shifting between Corosive (Plank Gas) and Phosphorus grenades.
It wasn’t long and the area around Braktus and his men started to be devastated much like every world the Maw touched. Braktus and his men began to dig in a few even began gathering rocks in the nearby area to make simple barriers. Operation hide and seek would have to be put on hold once again as both Laertia’s forces and the Eternal forces began to close in.
Mitch was in his element as he fired on the Eternal forces in the sky, he didn’t have time to be concerned with spider three for the moment. There fate was in the Avatars hands as the first wave passed, he did note that their formation had been a tight group with bombers being protected. He knew they could only last three rounds at best with out air support that he knew they would not get. Unless Khaostra somehow pulled off a miracle or called for an evacuation they would all be stranded here. That was not all the plan in fact the plan was come in get what we wanted and get out that might as well be fully frakked at this point.
“THIS IS THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE MAW TO THE BRYN’ADUL, WE HAVE BEEN WATCHING YOU. IF YOU SEEK THE TRUTH COME FIND US WE HAVE WHAT IT IS YOU ARE LOOKING FOR.”
He set the message to repeat weather it got to the Bryn’adul was anyone’s guess so far no one had responded to it. As the Message was on repeat the open comms to the remain spiders. “Spread out force them to have to break up their groups it will buy us sometime.” That was all he was doing now buying time for whatever Khaos decided.
“THIS IS THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE MAW TO THE BRYN’ADUL, WE HAVE BEEN WATCHING YOU. IF YOU SEEK THE TRUTH COME FIND US WE HAVE WHAT IT IS YOU ARE LOOKING FOR.”
With that the spiders began to separate wider apart to try and force the squadron groups to have spread a part. As they began to move apart and continued firing on the air groups unaware for the moment that Laertia’s droid army was beginning their fire from the swamp and the Eternal army was beginning its inner movements to squeeze them. Mitch was praying to any avatar that would listen this situation was becoming more and more dire by the moment. The second wave came as direct hit took out the cockpit of spider six, spider eighteen had it legs taken completely out leaving it immobile, and Spider ten exploded into bits as it’s engines and hyperdrives took direct hits.
“THIS IS THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE MAW TO THE BRYN’ADUL, WE HAVE BEEN WATCHING YOU. IF YOU SEEK THE TRUTH COME FIND US WE HAVE WHAT IT IS YOU ARE LOOKING FOR.”
Mitch took one more look up at the darkening sky and took a deep gulp and whispered to himself. “We need that god damn lightening now.” They need those skies to be just a volatile as the ground was becoming. The spiders where speardign out putting more distance between them so the Eternal forces would have to break up there groups at the same time maintaining fire on the skies.
“THIS IS THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE MAW TO THE BRYN’ADUL, WE HAVE BEEN WATCHING YOU. IF YOU SEEK THE TRUTH COME FIND US WE HAVE WHAT IT IS YOU ARE LOOKING FOR.”
Ten of the Shaman’s were holding the shield as another Ten began preparing defenses to hold their positions. The remaining along with Sorcerers of Rhand were maintaining the ritual to bring in the massive storm front over the Swamp region. It was already beyond the point of no return the storm Was coming however depending on how much dark energy they could force into would determine just how violent and volatile the storm would be.
Dark energies from the witch The Amalgam
began to spread across the swamp attacking the Maw and Bryn soldiers alike. Hundreds of them began to collapse and fall to the ground and perish the death and dark energy touched at the shaman and Rhandites. It was the darkside of the force something Sorcerers of Rhand knew of, it could be used for destruction much like there own Dark. The Dark in their minds was far superior then the force, it was pure and untainted it came from the primordial universe one where entropy reigned supreme.
However, the dark energy of that was being used was useful to them. With out a though a dozen of the shaman began to draw the energy to them away from the soldiers. They began to draw the energy to them, they knew there lives would be forfeit but they began to absorbed all the dark energy the witch was emitting across the swamp bring to them and then as there flesh slowly began to rot and be started ripping at the seams, there eyes burst forth in flame they force all that dark energy into the ritual fueling and speeding it up hundred fold. The pure rawness of the energy being forced into he chained ritual it first hit the outer ring and then purged into he centers where Fulton stood. The Shaman that sacrificed them selves absorbing all that energy stealing it from the witch who had planned to use it for her own power gain. The even put their own life forces into at the last second to force every last bit of energy they could into the ritual.
The shaman’s bodies slowly became ash and blew away in the heavy wind that came up. Dark energy shot up into he skies and the storm exploded thousands of lightning striking at the ground and air all at once. The air on the ground instantly became magnetic messing with compasses and electronics. Bolts struck out and lashed out at the enemy forces. The wind rose to violent forces, and small twisters began to start forming though had not yet touched the ground. Nothing In the swamp would be safe from this storm.
As this violent dark energy flooded into, he storms making this swamp one of the levels of hell itself a fighting force of enteral starfighters flew overhead releasing there missiles. The ten shaman that were free just catching a glimpse of them as they eclipse the light that peered through the tree line. They reached out with there magicks and slowed the called out slowed the space just above their protective bubble it would only hold for a few seconds but that was long enough. The Missiles slowed almost to a stop just above the force field. Then Lighting came down strike them, it happened so quickly that it still appeared the missiles had fully bombarded them.
In truth it cleared the tree tops as the missiles exploded from the lightening strikes but it allowed the shaman and sorcerers to move in closer together and shrink there shield instead of losing it. Then as the ritual concluded they would be able to move with he bubble.
Khaos felt the Dark energy as well and she felt it as the shaman’s pulled it and used it for themselves subverting what ever nefarious act the witch out there had planned. Yet this was no time to celebrate in less then a few moments they had already lost a considerable number of there forces. On top of that there escape plan was getting smaller by the minute. She needed to buy them time the storm definitely would help she thought as she began to move inward with the ritual circle to remain protected by the bubble as now their tree cover was a clearing leaving them exposed.
As she moved backwards taking in all the darkness and destruction, she closed her eyes and reached out. She reached out into the spirt realm the one people referred to as the nether. She let her sight move into hat world, the world around her began to fade too shadowy and grey all around her. There she stood in the middle of a swamp much like the one she physically standing in. She looked out across the shadowy swamp. Then to her feet where vines began to form all around her and her body, then as they attached to her, they began to spread out from her all across the spirit version of the swamp.
In this place she could feel the spirits of her soldiers both those living and dead. The Dead calling out to her then she spoke to them through the vines.“Grab ahold of the vines.” She did not talk to just Maw soldiers she spoke to all who had died in this swamp that were of flesh and soul. “As grab ahold you serve the Maw and the Vine for it will give you a second life.” Maw souls grabbed a hold along with many Bryn who had perished here and long dead souls clinged to the vines. As did a familiar voice as well it spoke into Khaos head. “You have come to our aid once more seedling and master of the vine.” That voice that tormented her yet in this moment brought her comfort.
It was but and instance and Khaos eyes open and her head tilted back her arms went outstretched her eyes flared up. She had never done anything on this level with her vines before. “Protect my Children!” She screamed out and then immediately clenched her teeth tightly. Her eyes flared a violent orange then turn a pure white fire that could clearly be seen by both those on the ground and air looking in her direction.
As she did vines a shot out from her feet along the ground and underneath it. The nearest soldiers force users to her were the first to be touched. The Vines began to snake up their bodies giving them and extra layer of strong but light armor. As it continued to spread it did this to all the living soldiers and it even started to form over the spiders. As it touched the head it would pull their souls from the nether back into, he land of living restoring there life so long as they had grabbed ahold of the sessile and offered themselves to the Maw. Even long dead people who had died in the swamp would soon rise and as well as some Khaos’s fiercest allies the Drengir would rise once more.
The Vines continued to grow bring with it new life for those dead willing to serve the Maw and protecting those that served the Maw. Khaosstra herself collapsed to the ground and her knees. Her arms feel to her side and she let out a heavy breath as she just looked forward out towards the man swamp her mouth gaping as she gulped for air. Her mouth was dry and cottony, every muscle in her body felt weak and she just wanted to collapse but she knew she couldn’t her men and now those she that the vine had restored would need her.
ViermenGal'Zhoren “You have to admit that commanding officers aren’t gods incapable of making mistakes, Steve!” Patrick shouted furiously. “You don’t have the right to criticize our superiors, UC-4159.” Steve responded coldly. The fact that he had used Patrick’s serial number instead of his name clearly marked the end of the argument. It was at this moment when a loud rumbling noise filled the valley, catching the two off guard. “Well, it seems like the battle is in full swing by now. Glory to the Eternal Em—“ But before Steve could finish his sentence, a number of things happened which ended that particular conversation. First of all, Patrick punched him between the eye lenses of his helmet, knocking him over. Almost immediately after that, a deafening CRACK reverberated through Steve’s ears and where Patrick’s right fist had been an instant ago was a profusely bleeding stump with no fingers whatsoever. As Patrick shouted with pain, both of them immediately took cover behind a large, orange boulder and assessed how badly the hand was damaged.
“Well, clearly I’m not going to be able to use a gun.” Patrick lamented, wincing with the pain of having five of his fingers blown off. “That Sniper certainly got the drop on us. If you hadn’t punched me, I would’ve been headshot.” Steve replied. Using his remaining hand, Patrick slowly began getting out some standard issue bandages out of his utility bag, and as best as he could, began putting them on. He also said “Now you need to deal with the Bryn Sniper. The good news is that I had my Sniper Rifle with me of course, but you’re going to have to use it, Steve.” Steve asked the obvious question. “So what’s the bad news?” “I left it over where the Sniper shot out my hand” He responded, sounding slightly embarrassed. Steve rolled his eyes behind his helmet and sighed loudly. Then he exasperatedly said “Well I had better go get it then.” and started snake crawling towards the rifle, being careful not to be seen.
Once he was there, he grabbed it and tried to kick it back towards the boulder. While it did go in the boulder’s general direction, it also stopped very near the cliff’s edge. “Damn it” he muttered under his helmet, and began snake crawling back toward the rifle. Once he was within an arm’s reach of it, he reached out to grab it. Once he had gotten a hold on it, he pulled it over to himself and crawled back behind the boulder, with the rifle. Patrick briefly inspected the rifle, and then rather condescendingly told Steve “You really shouldn’t have kicked it you know. It seems like you cracked the scope. It’s not horribly cracked, but it’s certainly going to be harder to kill that freak of nature now.” “All right, kicking the thing was a mistake, but you’re supposed to be the team sniper, so how was I supposed to know I wasn’t supposed to do that?” Steve responded, clearly annoyed. “You do know how to use a KC-M74S, right?” “Yes, we all learned how in basic training obviously, but you’re the only person on the squad who actually uses it every mission.” “Fair point. Just go kill that Bryn’adûl Sniper already.” Steve loaded the rifle, and climbed up the boulder.
Once he got to the top, he saw a small wall with a V shaped intent, with the V being just the right size to put the gun barrel though. A perfect place to start sniping. When he started looking around with the scope though, he saw that Patrick was right when he said that this would not be easy. A large crack obscured it, and he just decided to remove the scope and trust his own aiming skills. He was a very good shot, but he was far from perfect. Another problem was that he wasn’t exactly sure where the enemy was. As he looked around, he saw a flash of movement, but when he looked over at where he saw it, all he saw were rocks. There was one rock however that looked somewhat out of place. It looked just a little bit too shiny and pale. He considered whether or not he should shoot it. If it was the enemy, he would end this immediately with no more injuries. If it wasn’t, he would loose the element of surprise. He ended up deciding to shoot it. He prepared the weapon, took aim, and fired.
Defensive systems and inertial compensators on board the Avenging Saint screamed in protest as the ravagers smashed into her hull, the shields flared brightly as the particle shield emitters tried to slow the oncoming targets and then flickered out. The ravagers smashed into the thick armoured plates and gouged deep rents through the top surface of the enormous ship. The energy of the ram was quickly spent, but two scars, one dozens and one hundreds of meters long, cut deeply across the ship, flames spilled out and secondary explosions burst sporadically as different sections were breached. Thousands of Ashlan sailors now floated frozen in the void, those lucky enough to be wearing marine armour had an hour or two of air to breath, but the majority were not so lucky. The captain cursed as he looked out at his damaged ship.
"Captain, hull integrity is holding but we have lost several sections on many decks, we are detecting boarders coming out of the enemy vessels, our troops are moving to intercept now." The fate of the ship was now in the marines hands. It was only be the grace of Ashla that the main reactor had been missed by the impact, but there was still massive power fluctuations across the vessel.
The Saint was far from Isla's position but she could see the glow from its energy weapons in the distance and a flash as one of the ravagers exploded on its hull. She squeezed her gloved hand in anger, but she would not be forced in to any rash decisions. This first section of the Bryn fleet was already looking badly mauled and was pulling back at her onslaught, she would not be pulled too far in though, she could not gift her enemy any potential pincer opportunity. Looking at her holo, she could see that the anti-fighter frigates were quickly catching the fighter wings and would be able to lend their massed anti-starfighter batteries to the defence. She also saw that there was a small wind of bombers heading her way. Interesting, she thought, 4 squadrons against a fully operational and heavily armed battlecruiser, they must have some ace they are holding to risk that. "Please activate our grav trap, I want to know if there are any cloaked ships accompanying those bombers" Her captain immediately followed his orders, the Crystal Grav Trap would detect the gravitational field changes of any cloaked ship. The captain also took it upon himself to scramble more interceptors, and a half dozen squadrons, launched out of the hangar bays on an intercept course with he bombers.
There was a bright flash in front of Isla's view port as the two sentinel beams crossed the bow of her ship, one missed, its targetting thrown off by the advanced defensive systems, but the other hit, scoring damage against the Hand of Ashla, her Molecular Shields were able to absorb a significant portion of the blast's energy before they overloaded, but he armour plating was badly damaged and the beam burnt through a half dozen decks, taking out a large number of batteries. "We cannot take too many hits from those beams, I want those Butcherers down. Focus all firepower on them" ordered Isla, "and get those molecular shields back up now"
The rest of the fleet was edging slowly closer to the Bryn, but mostly maintaining their distance. The primary weapons, multiple meteor cannons and super heavy barbettes were following Isla's targeting commands, but the rest of the batteries were taking targets of opportunity where they could.
Suddenly there was a massive flash that briefly overloaded the brightness compensators, The Blessed Knight Having taken the brunt of fire from several Bryn cruisers, had its reactor breach and break the ship in half, the two wrecked halves now drifted apart, propelled by the force of the explosion, leaving a huge and expanding debris field, a nearby warden was also caught in the blast wave, the release of energy knocking out many systems, but leaving the ship mostly intact.
In between the two fleets, starfighters fought each other, the Ashlans had lost maybe two squadrons worth of mixed fighters and bombers, but luckly the tide would soon turn, as the starfighters detected the two anti-starfighter frigates move into range and begin to lay down supporting fire.
.
Hand of Ashla in Offensive mode
6 meteor cannons and 2 heavy proton beam weapons targeting butcherers
Turbolasers and Solar ionization weapons targeting ravagers
several banks of molecular shielding temporarily overloaded, and ray shields weakened due to butcherer attack
released more interceptors as CAP
3 Templars opened fire
Meteor cannons and barbettes at Butcherers
Turbolasers at ravagers
Blessed Knight explodes
Avenging Saint along with 4 Dominions and 2 Principalities ahead of main fleet
All firepower refocused on charging ravagers
1 Dominion turning away to enter hyperspace due to excessive damage
Other ships taking minor damage
Avenging Saint takes massive damage to starboard from ram attack and is now boarded
15 squadrons of bombers and 10 of interceptors engaged by Bryn fighters, some Ashlan casualties, bombers attempting to push through.
lost 1 squadron each of fighters and bombers
2 Warden anti-fighter frigates, 1 Dominion and 2 Principality moving forward to assist fighter squadrons.
Objective 2: Beasts in the trap
Tag: ViermenSteve the Ultranaught Equipment:
Barad cloaking Device, Barad Impact Grenade x6, Ravager Marksmen Rifle, Barad Glaive, Barad Kurigasami X5, Barad Kukri X4, Barad Special Operations Armour.
Barad advanced blaster X4 Current Objective: Ambush
Gal'Zhoren could only watch as the soldiers, following several short commands from the agitated man-thing, has galvanised their efforts into a hap hazzard formation. They were shaken, flustered- as good as dead now.
It spoke volumes to him that, although anticipating a small strike, they had still triggered the trap so beautifully.
He and Ort'nem waited on the valley tips for a few moments longer until the enemy force had passed a significant distance ahead. Then, they began to descend.
It was the hope of Gal'Zhoren that, once the shooting started in the chasm, the soldiers would become far too occupied with the fighting to be able to anticipate let alone deal with his rear flank Assault. If the enemy was lucky, it'd be over soon. If he was lucky, it would be a slow and brutal exchange.
He hoped the latter was true.
Gal'Zhoren and Ort'nem reached a pile of fallen stone and carefully maneuvered off and onto the softer ground level below. To their surprise, some of the marines still lived- If only barely. They were illegible in their stifled murmurs. To them, the Zealots could have been as much an ally as a foe at that exact moment.
Silently yet instantly, the two Zealots decided to spare their pitiful lives. It seemed rather fitting theirs be the last faces the soldiers saw before they drifted off to the scurge of damnation that awaited them.
After a few long moments, they started after the still- alive soldiers. Eager to shed more enemy blood.
Xanlatt:
A hand. That was unfortunate.
Xanlatt watched in concealed amusement as one of the marines crawled his way across the rocky ground to retrieve the fallen rifle. He could have easily ended the man's life but had decided against it. There was no honour to be had from a kill if the prey had no set defense. It was a shame, he'd reasoned, that the one handed marine would likely die a slow death. Unlike the rest of his squadron, Xanlatt much preferred to dish out a quick kill when dealing with an active enemy threat. Prisoners and slaves on the other hand.....
He let the though die as the soldier returned and made the poor effort of attempting to counter strike. Xanlatt remained still as he saw the scope pass by him. Perhaps the weapon had acquired some damage during the fall. Perhaps not. Or perhaps, the marine didn't know what he was looking for.
He could use that.
Xanlatt reached out with the Force, attempting to access the minds of his opponents. Instantly, he could feel their nerves and aprehension rising.
Xanlatt knew the probe would distract them and, in a way, that would be the point. He could no longer fire at them as he knew they could not fire at him yet he could not remain still just in case the inept marine hit a successful blind shot and so had began inching closer, holstering his rifle in favour of his twinned Kukri blades.
With a short, jerking motion, Xanlatt attempted to shut down the mind of the one-handed marine. After all, he'd thought, there would come no challenge from facing a disabled opponent.
Osam was not as calm and methodical as his enemy when it came to matters of war. As close to his birth as possible, he had been taught about the nature of conflict and brought up in the ways of battle. Indoctrinated in the ideologies of the Bryn'adul, and sent forward into warfront after warfront as a mere Drone, he had ascended beyond his previously detrimental station only to eventually settle into the position of Warlord. Yet, even with that promotion he had never lost sight of his original purpose... to slaughter and to maim and to exterminate.
Where his enemy derived some pleasure from their domination of a worthy opponent by means honorable or otherwise, the hybrid was fixated entirely upon the lessening of a verminous population. Every expulsion of life from the husk of his foe was a rapturous joy - every termination regardless of how easy or difficult was a divine blessing. Perhaps some part of the hybrid hoped that if he was able to slaughter enough of the fledgling humanoids, the progenitor of their race would return in recognition of his bloody work.
The Flesh Vessel - the portion of it that was comprised of purely animalistic meat - had stilled to the point that the Warlord was fairly certain that it had either gone into something of a comatic state, or that it had expired completely. The armament had stiffened considerably as a result, and movement with his joints was already beginning to become more difficult as a result of the rigor mortis overtaking the hide. Still - it was a solid barrier against threats, and while it was less effective, it was not completely ineffective.
At least, it would have remained somewhat capable were it not for the Shriek that suddenly tore through the small space. The Force vibrated through him, shaking his very bones to the core as the hide began to develop perforations and gradual tears. It was still immensely strong, and it had only just expired, but that didn't seem to mean anything to the malevolent energy being used against him. Gradually, a few light tears in the meat appeared, showing the Warlord's own skin and that of the Kraemonen underneath - one spot on his left arm, another on his right shoulder, one at the neck just below his chin.
With a sudden flick of his hand, Osam hurtled one of the Sun Quaker toxin grenades at his opponent, observing as it began to exude poisonous gas in the close proximity that they shared. While he was not immune to the gases effect, he hoped that it would disorient his enemy long enough for him to regain his bearings and the initiative of their fight.
Even the mightiest warships of the Bryn'adul had been created with the express understanding that they could only maintain the punishment of their galactic foes for so long. The Butchers were not the pride of the fleet, as it were, but they had been regarded as weapons of exceptional destructive capability and hardy plating that was as close to impenetrable as any that could be boasted by a battleship. Nevertheless, the strongest beast could still be slain with a thousand pinpricks in the right location, and with all of the terrible arsenal being poured against them by the Eternal Empire, there was little doubt that a few shots would land in precise and deadly spots.
Especially when the fighters began to target the Sentinel Servitors... especially when they struck them as they were preparing to charge for another shot.
The Worm-Mind recognized the death of the first Sentinel before it had acknowledged what must certainly come shortly afterward. For an instant it contemplated whether they might somehow be able to maneuver the Butcherer away from the frontline, if it could be utilized as a shield for its less fortunate cousin ships, or perhaps if it might be coaxed into one final thrust forward in a suicidal rush. An instant later, the Barbaric Despoiler ignited into flames that reached out for a mere second into the empty expanse of space before being snuffed out along with the dispersal of all of the atmosphere aboard the ship.
Like a fragmentation grenade, the Barbaric lit up into pieces, spraying chunks of debris and dissolute materials throughout the battlefield. A few seconds passed, and though the Quarraler managed to let loose a final volley of it's battle-cruiser killing beams, it too met a similar fate.
They were going to lose the battle if they continued to suffer such terrible losses, but the Worm-Mind knew that reinforcements were inbound... that the other side of Danuta was brimming with replacement vessels that would shortly arrive to patch the wounds of their battered fleet. That the Bryn'adul Empire would survive so long as the Ish'makra did, and the fleet did not lose itself completely in the coming throes of war.
They just needed to hold.
Thankfully, the loss of the Butcherers meant the Conquesters that had hidden away behind them could not direct all of their bristling two-thousand (each) ballistae batteries back to the frontlines, opening fire with their terrible shield-rending railguns so that they could rip molten holes of death through whatever came into their view. The repairs that had been afforded them by the noble sacrifice of the Butcherers had been sufficient to prepare them for another bout of battle, though the Quilxyn were still being stoked back to their prior state of readiness.
The sole Ravager - the Terror - had arrived with a triumphant ramming action at its target, and a report back from the captain of that vessel revealed that its crew had begun their boarding action. Communications quickly became scattered as the Terror was turned to star dust by the defensive guns of the foe... but a majority of its crew had already divulged themselves of the ship and begun to engage in hand-to-hand combat throughout the enemy Ashlan ship wherever possible. Titan willing, they would inflict terrible damage on the Avenging Saint from within its own hull.
The Shriek Interceptors were performing acceptably well in the midst of their swarm battle, though it was noted by the Worm-Mind that several of the enemy bombers were attempting to break through the lines from where they had been halted. Already, the fightercraft of the Eternal Empire had begun to berate and assail the Conquesters, though the point-defense guns aboard both of those vessels were significant enough to hold steady for a while.
Desperate actions were needed. The Shrieks were given a command by means of their Shamans, and immediately the terrible interceptors began to spew blazing hot and sticky Magkast compound. The fiery liquid was easy to collide with in the dogfighting, both for Phedraks and foes alike, and it would quickly begin to melt and scorch electronic and organic systems.
The difference, of course, was that the Phedraks would still ostensibly survive being wounded... but even the slightest hole bored into a starfighter would cause it to depressurize and slaughter its pilot. A wretched tactic, but a necessary one.
Summary of Actions
Butcherers are destroyed.
Remaining Ravager Frigate divulges a majority of its crew into boarding the Avenging Saint and is subsequently destroyed.
Conquesters open fire on all available targets using their new view ranges combined with their long-range and highly dangerous Crusader Ballistae - four thousand in total.
A squad of Phedraks is lost in the dogfighting with the Ashlans. The Thumpers are still on course to engage the Ashlan Battlecruiser irrespective of the scrambled Interceptors.
Shriek Interceptors spray Magkast throughout the dogfight in an attempt at depressurizing as many starfighters as possible. The superhot liquid is excellent at tearing through systems both organic and otherwise.
Reinforcements will arrive by next turn from behind Danuta.
Kraemonen Support Craft will provide bolstering of shields to the two remaining Conquesters and the Sraeljoarsk - two each.
The piderling was gaining on him and Tovald knew it. He knew that once a predator latched on they will pursue to the end. Almost instinctively he ran as soon as he was able. That’s him being true to form, running. Like a skittish prey item.
So why not change the situation to an advantage? That’s what he was taught to do. Tovald began to develop a plan to cripple Spiderling so that he and anyone else can complete their objectives with some breathing space. That ledge like structure shall do nicely, he ducked instinctively as a spindly, yet lethal leg went right for his head. Missing by a paper-thin margin.
All Tovald needs to do is get up there and stab and shoot down at the Arachnid. That’s the plan in theory if he can get there without being skewered. The Ubese has come very near to being a shish kabab in the last hour and no he had not wanted to become said kebab in a hurry. The plan is set and ready to be implemented.
Once he was up high enough and directly above the Spiderling, he leapt from his vantage point and used his sword’s weight and momentum to send it plunging through the Arachnid’s Chitin carapace. The Arachnid seized erratically and then fell in a tangle of limbs. Tovald sighed in relief, finally able to think clearly for once and gather his bearings.
That felt good. He never knew he was holding back until this moment. But the moment had lasted but a mere second until he heard an explosion and gunfire radiating from the first corridor to his left. Tovald slid to his feet and yanking his sword free he headed to where the noise was coming from. His senses straining to hear for any more of those things near his own location.
Tovald didn't need to travel far until he bumped into a few BioDroids, a few tense moments passed as neither he nor they said anything assessing each other's threat potential. Once it was established they were on the same side. He was briefed on the situation unfolding down the corridor. Apparently, there was a horde of the things closing in on their would-be prey.
Tovald agreed to join up with them as it would be an easier alternative to going solo. It only took a few minutes until they all faced the aforementioned horde bearing down on a lone figure. These things are like a Hydra but with legs. Too many legs.
They opened fire, concentrating fire on the Spiderling cornering Ghost.
The TIE Boarding Shuttle had barely made it through the enemy fire to reach the ship Ingrid L'lerim
was aboard.
The seven Alyosha-Series Star Destroyers Xiphos had brought her relentlessly hammered the other warships that Osam
had fielded, firing both their electric based turbolasers and Ion Energy Torpedos at the ships in a constant barrage. The electricity based energy bolts were capable of tearing into even the toughest Organic tissue and could devastate shields. But the Ionic Energy Torpedos were by and large the far bigger threat.
Though they were dumbfire, having no tracking, they were essentially unlimited ammo barring recharge times and were fired in concentrated volleys by different ships. They busily fired on both large and small vessels trying to draw aggro from the Bryn'adul and keep the heat off Eternal Empire vessels. All Bryn vessels that could be targeted by them and were in range were targeted, their compliment of Nuetralizer TIE's doing hit and run attacks.
Good breaches from previous teams made for relatively easy landings, and The Battalion was the first off, flesh shuddering disgustingly everywhere, processing the Death and Destruction...
The Battalion smiled and her Light red blade flashed to life in her hand, and she immediately encountered the Bryn'adul Ship Marines, Juggernauts and Drones. She immediately leapt into the fray, slashing and stabbing viciously in the Djem So style, hacking apart a Juggernaut in short order, The Nuetralizers behind her ripping apart Vaydralin and the small ones with a combination of weapons, one particular Model 1 bursting open a Juggernaut with an FC-1 at point blank range.
"I do so enjoy killing Lobster..." she grinned. She had taken some of the chitin of the Agrogost that had attacked her in the ethereal plane as a trophy, and had gotten a taste for murdering Bryn'adul since.
She did have to wonder about what Darth Xiphos would do with herself AFTER both the Maw and Lobster were no more. Where do you go when almost the whole Galaxy wants you dead? What do you do after you've done so much to so many.
One thing was certain. Xiphos would never surrender again to anyone. She had done it once, to explain why she had destroyed Gihinnom rather than let it escape. If the Galaxy didn't want to win a war the pragmatic, obvious way, then it wasn't her breath to waste. All she could do was help the enemies of her enemies to spite her enemies.
Xiphos was planning something however. Something grand.
The Battalion could feel it in her bones. Xiphos had been building up resources, taking from a dozen different battlefields, looting the fallen, even looting allies.
She was slipping ever closer to the Darkness. Defeating her enemies was so important to her she was willing to sacrifice even the innocent to defeat them. She justified it in her head as military necessity. But The Battalion knew if she could nudge her just a bit further along, she would do it out of the sheer thirst to win at all costs, a poison that had entered her at Dantooine and continued to grow and fester.
On some level however, not even The Battalion could deny Xiphos's desire to correct the Galaxy wasn't genuine. That's what was so difficult about turning her fully: How do you shake someone of such deep conviction to almost entirely abandon that for power for its own sake?
Xiphos wasn't attracted to power or setting herself up as a Queen...all power was to be used to fight, delay, harass, and obstruct the enemy from attaining their goals. All power was used to relentlessly, furiously strike at her enemies whenever possible.
It was the mentality of someone who had their whole life spent with a back to the wall. She couldn't tell the difference between a back alley fight with a gang and a guerilla war against major powers.
If she wasn't so powerful, so intelligent, so crazy, she would have been defeated long ago by them.
The Battalion pressed deeper into her bloody slaying. Sure, she had other powers, but killing the enemy with a blade was her favorite. She could sense the Council. Did they sense their end? The end of the Bryn'adul? How could their leader, their creator, cut and run on them like this?
Xiphos was a lot of things. But at least she wasn't a deadbeat parent. She loved her mechanical and artificial children as best she could, and every one of their deaths hurt. She would never abandon them. Sacrifice them in battle, certainly, but never outright abandon them.
The Nuetralizers Model 1's always got quiet around the Bryn'adul. Always the quietest. Organic like rage dominated them as the gunned down as many Bryn as they could, sustained hits, one got his head blown off completely. "Roddy!" one of the Advanced Model 1's cried out as she diced apart Bryn with blades formed from her arms, eviscerating nearby enemies.
The Battalion summoned a field of red energy around her body to protect her as she rampaged through its passages, blade dancing against their, testing strength against strength, fury against fury. She would cast down their council, bathe in their blood. And she would cut down any beast that stood in the way....
The Juggernauts where in very heavy armor, they were practically walking tanks. A Bryn with out armor was a monstrous killing machine but was very vulnerable. A juggernaut was ten time more monsters cause not only where they same killing machine their armor made them a relentless force. As the Grenade came in the center of the semi-circle the squad they scatter movcing for various cover int eh area. The explosions went off almost immediately the force of the blast knock most of them forward in the movement and direction they had scattered. Shrapnel clinked of or imbedded into the heavy plates of there armor.
A wide gapping hole began to form where the grenade had impacted taking out a section of the floor opening to a wide chasm below. It was unclear how deep the whole was but the Drael in the Juggernauts where not willing to find out clinging to the sides of the walk way and their flimsy hiding spots. The Albino darted his head out just to see one of the soldier’s level a shot gun at one of his men and fire. The slug slammed into his armor cause him to tumble back and fall into that huge hole.
It was fairly deep as Udomek didn’t hear a thud at the bottom. The cryo-ban rounds were a nice touch he thought as another round landed into another rone of his squad mates knocking them back, but they were far enough from the hole not to fall in. The shotgun had a kick, and it was clear they were cry slugs by the frost the left on the dented armor. thankfully the Jaugernaut armor was heavy and provide them a little protection from the elements the rest was done by Quilxyn Protectors floating around all over the facility. They were quick to act and move into protect the Bryn from the elements.
Udomek Slung his Carbine and grabbed his glaive and took off at a full charge leaping the hole and closing the over twelve-meter gap as fast he could. His remain standing mean those not knocked aside by the grenade to hard open fire on the shot gun wielders position giving him fire for his charge. As he ran it was clear the grenade had done more damage than he had at first noticed straps on his armor were shredded and plates were becoming lose revealing little bits of his milk white skin.
His team fired on the shot gun wielders position, and he flew at her with incredible speed for his size of over ten foot tall. Her height was dwarfed in comparison to his, hell his glaive was probably big then her and it gave him extended reach he didn’t even have to completely close the gap to strike at her. His swing came around aiming for her right shoulder and head, even if she was well armored enough, it was heavy enough and strong enough swing to give someone blunt force trauma like being impacted by speeder trying to slow down before it hit someone. Udomek seemed unafraid and in a way, he was at least toward the Nuetralizer he had face them many times now a weakness the Jedi relied on and now this new enemy the eternal empire. As for the fleshy troops we welcomed that challenge.
when the order came down to cause a bigger noise to get hostiles focused on their position Nix sighed as he Spotted Esmeralda Io
. by this point he was lucky they had suffered only minor casualties from the enemy forces. Mabie he would have to ask the merc out some time it might be a good change of pace. looking up he spotted one of his gunships falling out of the sky from enemy aa fire. he keyed his coms. and ordered the units inside to bail out however his pleas were drowned out by the terrified screams as they headed towards the ground at high speeds ending in a fireball of flames and slagged metal on the battlefield.
Why, why give us biodroids sentience why make us fear and feel pain were we really that different from humans or were we just some crazy mans attempt at playing god?Nix thought to himself as he exited the tank he was riding ontop of only to get thrown from his feet and onto his back as enemy forces began pushing back. His forces began to quickly loose ground those that tried to surrender were quickly cut down were they stood. "No, no NO!" he shouted as he sunk to his knees his vision began to cloud with red as his control began to slip as his rage began to take over.his chest armor and helmet was the first to go seeming to disolve or burn up rather quick the heated air visible to others as 20 4 foot tendrals of pure energy sprouted from his arms burning away his chest armor and helmet as he let out a primal yell. "Make peace with your gods cause I'm coming for your necks!" he screamed before charging forward into the enemy lines his tendrals cutting down squads of enemy forces as he waded threw them like a sickle reaping grain. every now and again launching plasma energy from his hands stopping the enemies advance in his sector as he swears he could he calls for backup over the screams of their own terror.
Objective: Beasts in the Trap, Location: Brotherhood of the Maw Base Camp - Aerial
The wing commander gritted his teeth as it appeared his assault with his squadron did not break the shield barrier. To top it off, a great storm was brewing around them - the likes of which the Captain was a bit taken aback by. Ionization levels and magnetic interference were off the charts, playing havoc with his and his wing’s sensors. From what he could tell, the remainder of his forces did an admirable job in harrassing the maw transports. Currently, four out of the twenty craft they came in on were inoperable, with several more subjected to an intense assault from the Eternal swarms. They had lost over a squadron’s worth of fighters, and nearly equal levels of bombers, but such a sacrifice was a worthy trade for preventing the Maw from leaving this world unopposed.
That said, he wasn’t certain how long exactly they could remain. Before long, they would all be lucky to stay in the air. Their deflectors could probably weather one strike from lightning, but even still - he wasn’t inclined to test it out.”All squads disengage and form up to the west. Conditions are becoming too hazardous for us to remain.”As he brought his squadron around at a reduced speed so as to allow for the remaining squadrons to fall in, an idea popped into his head. He tapped a few buttons on his console as he added to his order:”I’m transmitting coordinates to your computers. We will make one more attack run on this location as we retreat. Do not stop and do not ring around for another pass, so make this one count!”Whether it was due to a measure of wounded pride or duty, one could not be sure. But he would be damned if he didn’t give it one more try to break the shield barrier on the ground. It was obvious to him that forces greater than usual were at work here, particularly to maintain a shield strong enough to endure not one - but twelve proton torpedoes.
Even though he was about to withdraw with his forces, he would make sure the forces on the ground knew the threat from the sky wouldn’t be eliminated so easily. The coordinates he transmitted were focused on the shield barrier. After ensuring the majority of his wing was en-route to his position, the Captain surged forward with his squadron leading the charge. They swooped down, laying into the forestry with the full wrath of their lasers - firing another salvo of proton torpedoes at the barrier and the surrounding forestry. This was not nearly as focused of an assault as the previous one - this was meant to deal the most damage to the area as possible. If he couldn’t kill what was within the barrier, he could take as many of the surrounding soldiers with him as he retreated. The squadrons behind him followed his lead, with over 100 fighters strafing the forestry as they passed, with the surviving bombers dropping a devastating payload to cap it off as the entire wing sped off, trying to flee the unnatural forces converging on this location with all haste. At around this same time, the separate elements of the wing accompanying the shuttles would arrive at the superconstruct, with the landers dropping behind the Eternal lines and unloading a complement of Eternal Marines to supplement the ground assault, along with fresh supplies and munitions.
Location: Elements of the Reclamation Fleet, 20th Heavy Assault Line - Commodore Aximand Sicarus commanding
Equipment: Callides-class Heavy Carrier, Commodore Uniform, Nelvaanian Longsword (Sheathed), Sidearm (Reference character sheet)
As far as could be discerned, it appeared the Bryn’adul fleet was beginning to crumble under the weight of the onslaught before them by the Eternal & Ashlan Fleets, as well as the unexpected assistance of a small but hefty CIS fleet presence. Honestly, Aximand would take all the help he could get, as he had an increasing level of certainty that they were not nearly through the proverbial storm yet. With the Ashlan fleet bruised and battered from a desperate charge on the part of the Bryn’adul Ravagers, it was his mission to now minimize the damage and prepare for another wave. As if to confirm his suspicions, the senior tactical officer - Lt. Commander Aierka spoke up with her firm, dutiful tone:”Sir, we are detecting multiple signatures on the other side of the planet converging on our position - it appears as though they will be attempting to pincer us between what surviving fleet elements we are currently engaging.”
Aximand nodded in confirmation, and replied deftly:”Order the fleet to advance closer to the Bryn’adul & Ashlan positions. I want the Balisov and Oberon to lead the charge so as to allow the Revenant a brief respite to regain shields. Order the Corvettes to advance alongside, with all Ashkelons save the Shield of Salvation supporting a-stern. The Adjudicators shall form our rear along with the Shield, with all other ships to advance alongside us as we reposition. Until new targets present themselves, I want all long & mid-range firepower focused on the surviving Conquestors, with the fighter & bomber wings redirecting their attention to the Kraemonen Support Craft.”At the mention of redeploying, Aximand turned to Lt. Dobrev once more:”Inform Admiral Osborn we are repositioning. Invite him to accompany us as he wishes.”
His officers confirmed his orders and set about their respective tasks. While this maneuver, in the most immediate situation, would serve to minimize the effects of a pincer move when the Bryn’adul reinforcements arrived, it would also accomplish several other things. First, it would bring the Eternal Fleet’s mid-ranged weapons to bear upon the surviving elements of the Bryn’adul fleet, allowing for the ‘Tigris’ turbolasers to enter the fight for the first time - which also meant the Ashkelon frigates could lend support to the assault rather than merely standing at the ready for an enemy fighter swarm. That would result in even greater firepower being added to the following assault upon the surviving Conquestors while the deployed starfighters attempted to eliminate the support craft from the battle. Second, it would allow Aximand and his forces to support the Ashlan fleet. Their trajectory would place the Ashkelons close enough to let loose with their flak cannons upon the edge of the engagement zone between the Ashlan & Bryn’adul squadrons, which would deny the Bryn from a clean trajectory to either retreat back to their carrier or assault the Eternal Fleet very easily.
All of this would hopefully culinate into the endgame of this engagement, but the outcome was not certain yet. The Commodore may not be able to fully sweep the field clean before the reinforcements landed, but he could try to maintain their advantage nonetheless. All he could do was sit there and wait to see how the midgame reached its end.
The planet-side fighter wing is reforming in an effort to retreat from the encroaching force storm, but not before making one final pass in an attempt to devastate the Maw position with the full might of their surviving firepower.
The detachment of the planetary wing accompany the shuttles has reached its objective to the superconstruct, unloading fresh men, supplies, and ammunition for the assault.
The Eternal Fleet, after detecting with their sensors an attempted pincer move from the Bryn’adul reinforcements, is repositioning the bulk of the fleet closer to the Bryn & Ashlan positions (basically making a bee line for the mash-pit of fighters duking it out. The Cruisers & Corvettes are positioning themselves with their port side facing the Bryn, and the Ashkelons are to the starboard/aft side of their column providing picket protection and to score shots of opportunity upon the Conquestors. The Retribution and the remainder of the fleet are moving behind the screening column, lending fire support while the Adjudicators and one Ashkelon form the rear.
[*]All long-range firepower (Troika Mass Drivers, Desolator Barbettes, Cruiser Missiles, Warhead Launchers, etc) & mid range fire power (broadside turbolasers, mid-sized turbolasers,etc) are massing against the Conquestors.
[*]The Space-fighter wing is targeting the Kraemonen support craft
Ingrid also grew up during wars, but she was not trained as a mindless killing machine, but as a tactical fighter. She had to keep her calm, her cold blood, in every situation. Even when she suffered injuries when she danced on the verge of death. In every situation. Sure, she failed one or two times, like Adrian’s death, but she has lived with that immeasurable pain ever since; no matter how many years passed, the emptiness and pain did not change.
After the Force Scream, the red-haired woman saw the man's armour crack and the man dropped the grenade, which exploded. The explosion didn’t really cause any damage, but the gas got into the armour, even though it was Force-imbued. MANIAC immediately indicated the effects, the woman's regeneration immediately began to work on this, and fortunately she had no internal organs or actual lungs in which the poison could have caused damage. It caused injuries but not fatal ones and regeneration had to work as well. The only aspect she thought was comfortable in the semi-Force Entity state.
If her humanity has already been taken away, it should have at least some advantage, a function of convenience. However, she really did not see the enemy, only through the Force was able to see, perceive her opponent. She tensed all her muscles and so she tried to run out from the smoke of the grenade, running straight at Osam. As she progressed, she reached into the Force and used the Shatterpoint Force ability to find the weak points in the man's armor that could shatter it so that it would finally fall off the man.
If she manages to find such a point and manage to get close to the man, she tries to hit him with full strength in this area.
Agents had placed explosives in more and more places inside the Superconstruct and were moving even further inside the building. Their goal was to scatter the explosive in a significant part of the building. So they didn’t stop, but headed straight into the building's heart.
Meanwhile, the fighting continued outside and the troops still fired at the walls with tanks and other vehicles from a more distant point, from a height. In front of the area, ground units protected this place in trenches and tried to prevent Bryn'adûl from approaching them. True, we had to be more afraid of distance units and vehicles. Meanwhile, some more gaps appeared in the walls.
In the swamp, meanwhile, there was a great deal of chaos. The men of the 267th also heard that the Maw was trying to enlist the enemy force. Did these animals understand Galactic basic at all? All of this was raised by several soldiers. As they progressed inward, the reconnaissance droids kept signalling where the enemy was, of which there were a large number.
<< In the jungle, a powerful dark side ritual is happening! >> the message arrived, the Wardens felt it.
And they continued the hunt, side by side, moving fast in front of the vehicles. The undead went in the first line, wading through everything insensitively, mercilessly. Nothing could escape.
<"Sir..!"> one of the officers would have started.
<"I see it!"> Cal answered.
He also immediately received the data of the reconnaissance drones on his retina. The enemy really had reinforcements and they would arrive soon. An unpleasant but not unexpected turn. They built a pretty big trap, so they anticipated that.
<< This is Admiral Osborn to all ships, the enemy has reinforcements behind the planet and they are heading towards us, be ready! >>
Meanwhile, the response to the request for help also arrived.
<< Got it, Commodore! >> he said, and turned to his own men here on the bridge. <" Aim for the nearest ship! If the target is locked, fire!">
The ENS Crimson Empress aimed at the Chieftain's Heir, fired countless missiles at it, and the ion cannons and the two autocannons also opened fire on it.
ViermenGal'Zhoren
It was just a rock. When the bullet hit it, it left an impact of course, but it was quite clearly just a rock. Now that Steve looked at it closer, it oddly seemed to have lost the pale shine that it had before. At this point however, it had begun to rain and any visibility that Steve had left was gone. With a defeated sigh, Steve packed up the rifle, and headed back down to where Patrick was. He did not pay very much attention to the odd noise he heard at the back of his ears.
When he had gotten down from the boulder, Steve saw that Patrick had passed out and was snoring loudly, probably from blood loss. What was strange about that was that the bandages on his hand seemed perfectly tight and it was preventing the wound from losing enough blood to pass out. Then Steve figured it must have been exhaustion, and said “Wake up. Now is really not the time for your nap, Patrick.” He didn’t wake up. Somewhat concerned at this point, Steve lightly kicked him in the side. He still didn’t wake up. More concerned at this point, Steve removed his helmet and slapped him across the face. Patrick just seemed to snore louder. At this point, he realized that this couldn’t have been a naturally occurring sleep, and that somehow, some malevolent force had caused this. Taking into account the mirage that had distracted him from firing at the right place, this was clearly no ordinary Bryn’adûl that they were dealing with.
The odd noise that he had heard earlier was getting closer. It sounded almost like something sharp was scraping against a rock in short bursts. That was when Steve realized with dread, what it was. The Sniper was climbing the cliff side after him. After considering his options, Steve loaded his KC-47 Hybrid Strike Rifle with slug rounds, got as far away from the cliff edge as possible, and decided to let his opponent make the first move. The rain continued to pour as he waited.
The junction had become an utter bloodbath. Having since moved on, Gordrak had received word from two of his Ultras that one particular junction had come under siege. This particular meeting of hallways was one that lead deeper into vessel. Specifically, it could be utilized to travel toward the council chambers if one wished. As a strategic spot that couldn't be yielded under any circumstance, Gordrak had made his way there promptly. Currently, it was littered with the corpses of both Bryn and enemy boarders. His axe was currently lodged in the wall to his right, the torso of an enemy held aloft solely by virtue of the blade being somewhat parallel to the deck. Of the assorted other victims, both Bryn and Empire, some still 'lived'. To call the agony that they suffered as living was something of a stretch. Gordrak didn't care much for making things suffer unlike some of his kin. The only reason he allowed what brothers and enemies were left to live was simply due to ammunition. Gordrak simply couldn't excuse the expenditure. He considered ending them with his hands or the axe but would leave him open to an attack that could arrive at any moment. They would all simply have to bleed out.
The attack on the junction had been well planned. The enemy struck from both of the adjoining passageways and had deployed an array of varied explosives beforehand. Unfortunately the presence of the Ultras and those that survived the initial opening had turned the push into something of a slog. Additionally, despite the preparedness of the enemies rear-guard, they were woefully ill-equipped for Gordraks arrival. Suddenly entrapped, the forward enemy force broke after some hellish fighting. To the Empires credit, they managed to bring down the rest of the Juggernauts. This left Gordrak and the two Ultras as the sole surviving Bryn in the junction. To make matters worse, reinforcements had been delayed and Gordrak couldn't risk pulling Ultras from other vital areas. For the time being, the three were entirely on their own.
Of the three Bryn guarding the junction, Gordrak was the healthiest. His armor had protected him well up to this point despite some of the situations he had charged into. Both of the Ultras were well off enough to continue fighting though one had more severe wounds than the other. Of the wounds present between both Ultras, none of them were severe enough to dampen their ability to fight. That said, the wounds could be exploited if one were clever enough. As Gordrak looked over his warriors, he instinctively thought back to a time that he had almost forgotten about. Rather, a moment among many that he had hoped was buried. He and his brothers had survived their first major battle together. They had compared their wounds and boasted of how easily they had overcome them. It was a childlike naivety that Gordrak had long since overcome. They were weak when it mattered now they no longer existed. It was that same weakness that had brought his people to this point here and now. If he survived this along with the council, he would have to act. Heads would roll for this.
Hope.
Gordrak spat as he thought the word. The Titan had abandoned them. To think otherwise was nothing but sheer folly. What his people needed now was something tangible. They needed strength. The longer this battle dragged on, the more Gordrak began to realize that the ones in charge lacked that strength.
Summary:
Gordrak went to reinforce a critical junction that could be used to get troops to the council chambers. As he arrived, he aided two Ultras in disposing of the attacking enemy troops(just random guys not affiliated with anyone specific). Now Gordrak and the two Ultras are holding the junction by themselves.
The stench of the odorous toxin was beginning to waft over to the hybrid. He was not immune to the effects of the poisonous gas, but a very short breath or two of it wouldn't be sufficient to terminate him either. Nevertheless, he felt his eyes begin to water at the sting and instinctively backed away from the noxious cloud. He could still observe his opponent through the mist as a result of his own thermally-based vision, but admittedly the wafting vapors made it somewhat more difficult to perceive their exact movements as easily as he had while looking at her directly.
Was she capable of surviving remaining within the Sun Quaker gas? It seemed that she had spent a significant enough amount of time within the bounds of the armor-breaching compound that she should begin to feel catastrophic and terrible effects as a result of its lethal mixture, and yet she seemed to stand unharmed and unaware of the death which roiled around her.
An explosion of movement made him draw him his arms defensively just as her form exited from the cloud at what seemed to be a dead-sprint. He twisted to parry her strike only for it to lance directly into one of the arms instead of anywhere on his body. The effects were immediate - the Vessel began to crack and splinter throughout its form, as though a knife had snipped away whatever vestige was holding it together. It cracked, and huge portions of the torso broke off of it, as well as the limbs, leaving only fragments and chunks at various points on the hybrid, and the visible Worm-Mind bristling in all of its revolting glory.
Exposed. Weak.
The hybrid spun his carbine around, spraying blindly, allowing the terrible and wretched ammunition of his weapon soar out of the weapon, instantaneously igniting the highly flammable toxin gas nearby, and turning a significant portion of the hallway into something of a temporary inferno. The air - what little had been untainted - clouded with the sting of smoke. The Vessel was dead, but the mind-stone which had been embedded into it and the Quilxyn that had been attached both remained, and a command was sent to the gelatinous beast, causing it to convulse and immediately begin superheating the area.
Osam had always been fireproof as a result of his Baedurin lineage, but he was going to test the limitations of that immunity. Between the fire and the Quilxyn which he was now notably protecting, he would continue spurring heat in the small corridor until one of the two combatants gave way, or until the ship began to melt around them.
The Conquesters held the line in a way that even the Butcherers had been unable to perform. The mighty warships of the Bryn'adul had long been a staple of their planetary assault and space supremacy plans as a result of the truly destructive arsenal that had been placed onto each one of them. Even a single ballistae shot could ostensibly eliminate an enemy vessel if it was able to slip through energy shielding and into a sensitive area like a reactor, but with two-thousand ballistae each on the Conquesters, the warships were able to perforate their targets with hundreds of terrible blows.
More important than their destructive capacity, however, was their talent for survival. The largest vessels of the Bryn'adul fleet, they had a significant mass with which to soak whatever blows the enemy launched, and since they were regarded as some of the mightiest ships in the Empire, the crews aboard Conquesters were often the best and the brightest of their naval forces. Supporting their survivability were the Kraemonen Support Craft which were offering a fairly steady bolster to the shielding of each warship. Though the enemy had drawn close, they had not focused any attention on the weaponless escorts allowing them to continue their supporting work with ease.
Of course, that mistake would not last forever. The sudden damage reports coming into the Worm-Mind made it clear that the enemy fighter-craft which had been nearby were beginning to make attack runs on the support craft. Of course, with such close proximity to the Conquesters that meant that the foe was needing to draw themselves incredibly close to the powerful point defense systems of those capital ships, but... numerical advantage was its own supremacy.
The Conquesters were doing their utmost to pour on the firepower on their Eternal Empire opponents, but the substantial amount of fire coming back in toward them was significant. While the PD guns were able to destroy at least a few of the long-range missiles that came through, they were not perfect, especially with the damage that was already sustained causing blind spots. The shields held by the grace of the Support Craft for far longer than they would have otherwise, but soon the damage was spilling over against the hull once again.
Movement spilled out from Sraeljoarsk as a sudden and tremendous expulsion of dozen of shards of metal shot out from the Carrier, each one containing several members of a Zealot squadron. The effective special forces of the Bryn'adul Empire, the Zealots were well-trained for efforts of sabotage and infiltration. Each Shard had been designed to be incredibly hardy... and so with their exceptional speed they lanced directly through the fighter-wings of the Eternal Empire wherever possible while maintaining their course to their direct targets - the Ashkelon Frigates. With their focus on the swarms of Phedraks and Shriek Interceptors, they seemed a viable target, and one that needed to be dealt with quickly. One squadron each had been devoted to an Ashkelon, though this meant that one of the frigates would be without any interference... this was acceptable to the Worm-Mind.
With a sporadic burst of motion from the otherside of Danuta, the reinforcement fleet made its presence known, glistening with untouched hulls and bristling with devious machinations of malevolent construction. They had arrived behind the forces of the Eternal Empire and the Ashlans by a fair margin, pincering the groups to the best of their ability against the remaining Conquesters, though it was obvious that unless they moved quickly, the remaining forces would be unable to provide the anvil to their hammer.
A pair of Phedrak Carriers brought up the sides of the reinforcing line, each one already beginning to divulge itself of its myriad formations of Phedraks, Thumpers, and Shrieks. Four Debauchers - Draelvasier boarding vessels - lay inset of each of the Phedraks. At the center of the form lay the bulk of the reinforcing fleet.
There, five Ragnos Ivicerators lay ready to provide the vast bulk of the reinforcement, the Vaydralen assault cruisers already beginning to fire off whatever long-range firing solutions they could gain by means of their Crusader Ballistae. A trio of Bryn'adul Star Destroyers - Trezor Annihilators - stood front and center of the reinforcing fleet, speedily making their way with the rest of the reinforcement fleet toward the rear flanks of the foe.
Summary of Actions
Conquesters take a beating. They've lost their shielding and are once again taking heavy structural damage. They are returning fire at all available targets with their ballistae and firing on close-range targets with PD weapons.
The Support Craft are beginning to take some light damage from the nearby fighter wings.
Sraeljoarsk launches its Strikeshard squadrons at high speed toward the Ashkelon Frigates (3 of them) with the hope of using their Zealot squads within to wreak havoc.
The Reinforcement Fleet arrives behind the forces of the Ashlans and the Eternal Empire. They are speeding forward to join the battle proper and are currently only taking long-range potshots.
Two more squadrons of Phedraks and a squadron of Shrieks are destroyed due to dogfighting and the flak cannons of the Ashkelons.
Due to the unpleasant effects, Ingrid also tried to breathe as little as possible. She will have to eat when this is over. This is always the case after using rapid regeneration. In her case, it was Dark Side energies, bad thoughts, or just life-force. She didn't like it as a neutral Force User, but she stayed alive in such a way. By the way, Ingrid was the kind who, even with a fatal injury, even in dying condition she tried to act as if she had no problem. They raised the woman in such a way, one of the most heard sentences of her life:
Never show weakness.
Even now it was true, the gases hurt her, she was weaker, more tired, but the red-haired woman showed no sign of it. That would be equal to death. With the blow, she finally managed to accomplish what she wanted. Although she only hit Osam's hand, the vibrations caused by the blows caused damage to the entire armour and tore off from the man in a lot of places. Then the actual fight could begin now. I mean, that's what Ingrid wanted, she imagined this. But they haven't been able to do that yet. She sighed as he pulled out a firearm again. It was a logical move, but it was still unpleasant.
The first two shots hit her exactly in the chest. Although the armour protected quite a bit from the injury, beneath it the woman's skin and "flesh" burned badly. There were more injuries in her body that needed to be regenerated, i.e. the rate of recovery slowed. Because of this, every movement hurt as her skin and burnt flesh tensed, touched the armour, or the undersuit. It wasn't pleasant. And the man continued to shoot. Because of this, Ingrid had to keep moving back and couldn’t get any closer. Back to the toxic gas. But she didn't want that.
~ Let's see who you're hiding from me, Warlord, who do you want to protect! ~ she said this time mockingly. She briefly concentrated and then teleported into the room from which she had previously sensed the innumerable signs of life; Osam has to come after her now if he wants to catch the woman. And she looked around curiously at who was in this room.
//OOC: Sorry, this time I was tired to write everywhere, I slept only 3 hours and this was a long day…//
Viermen continued on with the pathway. That was until he felt the presence of malice return. It was stronger of a feeling. They were close. Nearly on top of the survivors. He went to the side, turned around, and saw them sneaking behind the soldiers.
Finally, they have come out! His arm pointed towards their path, and he opened fire. The sounds of the blaster cannon that replaced his arm rang through the gorge profoundly. The noise caused the men to get flustered and a few were frightened, but Viermen kept firing anyway. His arm was not designed for accuracy. It was designed for power without getting ripped off his body. The shots were consecutive, with half-second pauses between the shots. Most went into the walls of the gorge while a few were much closer to the targets.
A voice came into his head from the command, yet Viermen dismissed it in his mind. A dark ritual being conducted by the Brotherhood of the Maw was the least of his concerns. He was hunting the beasts, and he planned to keep doing so now that he has seen his targets faces. It was time to see if these infamous beasts are still worthy. To see if they were still truly strong as the records allude to.
Darth Phyre sneered as she felt the Rhand Sorcerer's give their lives to empower their ritual. None of them were true Sith. No true Sith would ever make that sacrifice.
They tried to summon lightning and magnetics. The Nuetralizer Model 3's were resistant to both to a degree, but the Model 1's and 2's began to fail and Phyre cast out her dark power to deaden the effects of the storm, her dark power clamping down in it from afar, feeding greedily on all the swamp trees life to counteract the Rhand Force Users, and then she did something unholy. These shamans thought their foolish sacrifices couldn't be undone. Couldn't be challenged.
With enough Dark Side, one could challenge anything...
She sneered mentally, as her dark power out into the Force, searching for the dispersed little shreds of soul powering the chaotic energies such as the twisters speeding through the swamp, ripping apart a chunk of Model 3's as it delid
You think your pathetic sacrifices mean ANYTHING?! I'LL PUT YOUR SORRY ASSES BACK TOGETHER JUST TO EAT YOU! she hissed through The Bogan's web.
She reached out, sheer hate and malice FORCING the souls of the sacrificed Shanans that had stolen her energy's back into coherence, gibbering and insane and outraged as their sacrifice was forcibly undone, howling in horror and despair as the Dark Witch began to consume the newly put back together souls together so they could experience a second, even more horrifying death being digested in her soul. Other spirits of the already dead Rhand Wizards began violently resisting but Phyre's power was like the event horizon of a black hole, so many spirits she had forcibly reassembled and glued back to coherence with pure hatred on the verge of being inexorably drawn into her spiritual stomach, where their torment would be everlasting as they were digested forever.
The sheer evil of what she had just done took even The Dark Side aback for a moment.
The sheer unholiness of it caused the trees around her to burst into flames, and every fish in the swamp along with every rodent like creature exploded across it as her flesh shuddered violently as she drew a repaired Rhand Sorcerer's spirit into herself, further weakening their spells and dampening the storm, the Model 3's picking up the slack for damaged Model 1's and 2's, now firing 40 mm Grenade rounds into the landing suit, unafraid even as some of them were blasted apart by Eternal Bombers, three rising from the water and firing their rifles at a small squad of Maw desperately holding back against the onslaught. Phyre's power began to try and dampen the ritual further, the very light in the area being dimmed by her sheer evil to near pitch black conditions. The Model 3's advanced along with still partly functional Model 2's, the Model 1's withdrawing further into the swamps to try and escape the effects making their systems go haywire. A Model 2 exploded, overwhelmed by electricity. Phyre stretched her power out further, making more of the swamps catch fire as she tried to both eat the souls of both fresh and put back together souls, trying to reduce the effects and potency of the twisters now...
"You're not afraid of the dark, are you?" A Model 3 taunted a captured Maw Warrior, slitting his throat...other Model 3's advanced, some having already seized Maw weapons as they came under heavy fire from all sides...
They had reached the end of the top. Now they had to descend the hill, and fight off just a few more foes before they reached the plains. It would take everything they had left. Sethrak just hoped it was worth it. If they reached the plains, and were unable to rally an army of undead Bryn'adul, or if the Warlocks failed to open a temporary portal...this battle was over.
Sethrak grunted as a Lothwulf jumped on him, impaling itself with his spear. Nearly falling, Sethrak dropped to a knee, tossing the spear-and the corpse-away and pulling a Khukri sword. Already another foe was upon him. He sprang up from the knee, slashing from right to left, vertically, at the new opponent. The faceless body fell to the ground.
To The Warlock's right, a Baedurin soldier was struggling to throw off a Nexu, its' claws ripping through the soldiers' armor and flesh. Sethrak ran over but he was too late; as his blade pierced the Nexu's side, the Baedurin warrior collapsed, dead. Sethrak sighed. He was exhausted, but his journey went so much further than that of the remaining Lothal Guard. It was here, in The Nether, next to a collapsed brother, that Sethrak first had his doubts. He had been confident, hopeful, optimistic, but now...surrounded by death, and exhausted, The Warlock felt hopeless. His forces were decimated, and while they had nearly reached the end of their campaign, his personal crusade...or pilgrimage, had only just begun.
Later
They had done it. They reached the plains. It was eerie...immediately the fighting ceased. The faceless ones disappeared, not even in retreat...they just vanished, the waves stopped coming. Now Sethrak found himself standing in silence. As far as he could see, warriors roamed the flat fields ahead. To his flanks, corpses evaporated into a bluish green mist, leaving nothing. The few remaining, living warriors stood still just as Sethrak did. Some took knees, others were still alert, weapons raised. Some were tending to the wounded and some were reloading their guns.
Sethrak took one more moment to catch his breath, but he couldn't. It was as if his body wasn't accepting the rest, his legs still burned and his breathing remained heavy. He didn't understand it. Perhaps it was some foreign feeling of The Nether.
Regardless of this sorcery, Sethrak knew what must be done. He walked forward, then, some 20 yards from where he had been, He called on The Force to amplify his voice,
"Bryn'adul warriors! Your Chieftain calls upon you once again!....."
The weaponry of the Bryn'adul had been designed originally to match the physiology and capacity of the Draelvasier race. While it had eventually diverged away from that point of origin, a significant amount of design philosophy had been retained. It was for that reason that so many of the firearms and implements of war of the Bryn'adul were large, heavy to the point where they were occasionally difficult to maneuver, and extremely destructive as a result. Even the standard assault carbines that had been passed around to every echelon of the military were capable of shredding through most armor and protective surfaces with ease.
That was why when the Warlord succeeded in driving two of the incredibly violent molten rounds into the witch, he felt assured that the fight had been ended. He had seen humanoids blown to chunks and pieces by even a single well-placed round, and there was little doubt in his mind that regardless of her unnatural toughness, she too would be scattered across the hallway. It was, incidentally, also why a gasp of utter surprise escaped from the hybrid the instant that he saw the woman continue as though she had been struck with a mere pullout blaster.
A voice taunted in his head, and his finger found the trigger against, a round squeezed off as it slid through the empty air only to slam into the far bulkhead. He hadn't merely missed his target as a result of some acrobatic feat, however, as he quickly discovered. She had vanished completely - utilizing some accursed method of teleportation to completely bypass the entrapment that he had planned. What was the good of his interception and the subsequent molten heat that he had facilitated in the hallway?
Immediately the hybrid turned upon his heel back toward the chambers where the Ish'makra had sat observing the conflict both within and without the ship, and threw the doorway open. Eyes wildly flicking between the various personages within the room until he settled upon the location of the witch who herself seemed to be taking stock of the inhabitants.
The Ish'makra was not a massive governing body by any means - perhaps only a dozen persons truly sat upon it, most of them Draelvasier, though one each of the Allied Races also took their place upon the council with the exception of the Kraemonen who were far less individualistic than the others. The Matriarch of the Akhenaton - the insectoid constructors of many of the newest Bryn'adul fortifications - let loose an uncanny shriek of outrage and shock at the intrusion. Adjutants, assistants, tacticians, warlords, and guardians were also placed throughout the confines of the room, numbering several dozen in total.
He'd fought the woman on two occasions in the past, and neither had left him with the impression that she was a fool. Why had she decided to throw herself into the midst of hostile territory, into the midst of the most well-defended location on the entire vessel? He frowned at the implication that she might possess some means of eliminating nearly everyone within the room in an instant. Was she a suicide bomber? Did she carry a weapon of mass destruction somewhere on her person?
"Shoot her! Get the Ish'makra out!" He shrieked a command to the guardians, watching as a set of hulking Baedurin threw themselves from their honorary positions and prepared to hack apart the intruder with their glaives and guns - the others in the room either joined in this initiative, or else began to herd the Ish'makra toward the sole exit of the room, watching with raised weapons in defense of the rulers of the Bryn'adul.
Might not have time to get a post out today so I thought I'd do one just to reply to Ingrid L'lerim
- I won't progress the fleet battle until everyone has had their chance to reply.
