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Another Death Star, hm? I thought these had a tendency to get blown up?
From the histories he had read as an orphan, as magnificent as spacial fortresses were, their operational periods were often cut short by powers far more insignificant than the Sith. And now, The Network appeared as though they sought to repeat history, fighting against the Sith in any capacity they could. Just like the Rebellion, they were driven to liberate all those who lived under Sith rule, whether those people liked it or not. Their first target was Mandalore, and what a symbolic victory that would be. A dramatic move, one that Lark could appreciate. What better way to rally support for their movement than by securing victory in the same manner as the rebels of lore?
But unfortunately for them, history does not always repeat itself.
For a moment, Lark watched the primary firefights engage in space combat. In between the viewing deck and the surface of Mandalore, the fighters put on a grand display. If only he could linger a moment more and watch, but some of those pesky little flies had landed within Concordia. Part of him wished to descend to Mandalore and fight in the trenches of one of the most ravaged planets in the galaxy, but he knew his place was here. If Concordia remained strong, Mandalore would have a better chance of holding out against The Network.
Quickly striding through the halls and through the detainment facilities towards the action, Lark received a message from a Sith officer. "A young Jedi has been spotted heading towards more central areas of Concordia," the woman said. "We're not sure what his goals are. Find him and end his schemes."
"Of course," Lark responded softly. He began to reroute himself, before spotting a Pureblood Sith exited one of the prison chambers, wearing the scent of blood like perfume. "If the prisoners have lost their appeal," Lark said to the man in a melancholy voice, "Perhaps a Jedi is more to your liking?"
Post : 3
Kit: Armor, Guns
Location : Gorge Leading to Fortress Imperious
Objective : Seize Fortress, disable the attack moon (serving as a Mandalorian soldier in the endeavor)
The Sith finally came on the offensive. For hours upon hours, the two forces of Mandalorians and SIth have been in practical deadlock. Mostly due to the small contingent lead by Mand'alor into the bowls of the fortress proper. However, some troops were committed to the small group of warriors that stayed at near the entrance to the gorge. They came from the air, and rained hell on Tahlah and the Sundari. These air raids harried their position until they managed to shoot most of them down. Miraculously, their cover provided enough space for the contingent to hide from the airborne assault. However, they have only reduced any chance of escape unless other come.
Tahlah was both pumped from another adrenaline rush as the new element to the struggle came, but there was a lurking fear in the back of her mind that was expected of one who was new to war. She held firm, and the armored mask of her armor definitely helped conceal her inner conflict of emotions. All she cold do was keep blasting at the oncoming Sith, and hold the line until either Mand'alor's expedition returns victorious or on the run, or reinforcements arrive. They had a chance, but it was small, and the Sith just kept on coming.
She couldn't grin any wider if she tried with the screams of the woman she blasted echoing like a symphony to her ears, she was enjoying herself alot by delivering this hellish torrent upon her enemies. But then her barraged ceased as she tumbled forward almost rolling a little as she felt something impact the back of her armor. Fortunately the armor was built to withstand a great deal of punishment as she clawed her way back to her feet , Raya and Avernus could feel a torrent of rage and fury that was bottled up be unleashed through out her body like a flood.
She was for a time willing to let Raya capture the boy, but she turned to the boy her eyes if they could be seen through the helmet were flaring bright and crimson as the setting sun, If Raya wasn't between them she would unleash hell Immediatly she leaped to the side so that Raya was out of the line of fire before she channeled a reddish white surge of lighting through her arms before she unleashed it upon Reyn directly. She intends to burn the very flesh off this annoying pest less told other wise.
Post: 4
Location: Little Keldabe Objective: Defeat Kovhorn Equipment: Lightsaber, Armor that has been made superfluously flashy with gold paint and embossings, and a bright purple cloak for further ostentation. Allies: Raya Najwa Zambrano
and Vandra Zambrano Enemies: RReyn Australis
and Kovhorn
One final growl concluded Avernus' scream of disgusted rage. He pulled his hand back, terminating the stream of electric malice that emitted from his fingers, knowing it would do nothing to halt Kovhorn
's momentum. He flourished his lightsaber and bent his knees, readying himself to meet Kovhorn
's charge head-on. It was in that split second that he had a frustrating realization about the Mandalorian:
Beskar.
His teeth gritted together once more. He maintained his stance of readiness, outwardly projecting confidence, but in his mind, he was frantically formulating a plan. This wasn't a problem that Avernus' could solve with a quick stroke of his lightsaber, which was unfortunate as that was his favorite kind of problem. Almost all at once he thought of several angles of attack, assessed the risk of an airborne tackle, and considered the effects of a simple push with the force. He took a step backward, acting contrarian to his confident stance, and hesitating to act with only minuscule fleeting moments before Kovhorn
reached him.
It was time to act, and none of his fledgling plans had matured enough to be executed. There wasn't enough time for them to develop in the nest of grey matter which resided in his skull. He would have to make a move and trust- no, command that the force guides his actions. He leaped a distance great enough to meet the Mandalorian in the air. His body twisted and flipped, avoiding the direct path of his assailant and rendering Avernus perpendicular to and above him. His left hand reached out to grasp the top of the jetpack, hitching a ride for only a short moment before angling his lightsaber in an attempt to shove the blade inside of the thruster. Instead of sticking around on the back of this flying barbarian, as soon as that motion was completed he'd release his grasp on the jetpack and begin to fall back to the ground.
Strapping on plates of armor, Gilaad looked up to the mirror within the confines of the closet where he could see Arador having remained in the room the entire time. They were professionals, seeing one another naked never interfered or seem to bother each other. At least it didn’t seem to bother Arador, Gilaad didn’t even know what the other looked like under all that armor. “I don’t have to pay, it’s all in the charm. Perhaps you'd know more about it if you learned to karking communicate!”
Stomping on the boots and finishing donning his armor Gilaad looked around for the helmet only to find it sitting on the bedside table. The T-visor stared at the dar’manda. Sometimes the visor was all people knew of Gilaad, it was his protection from a galaxy that would see him dead. Once that helmet was placed upon his head he was considered one of the finest warriors to grace the galaxy. Or at least what had once been a group of fine warriors before their emasculation at the hands of their so called Mandalore or empress.
“Of course they would come back to this world, the Mandalorians don’t know how to operate anymore without this world, they forget that Mandalorians aren’t a people, they aren’t made from the planet, we’re a karking creed.” Catching himself having used the word ‘we’re’ Gilaad shook his head. He wasn’t like them, he didn’t need them, he knew how to prosper on his own.
Snatching the helmet up in his hands the hunter turned to face Arador nodding for the other to follow. “If it’s just us means a bigger payday, but next time you break my door the only things that’s gonna be broken is my foot up your a-”
The words of the former mandalorian were cut off in an explosion that blossomed in a ball of flame. The front walls of Gilaad’s homestead detonated inwards, the kinetic force of the detonation lifting the man off his feet, sending him hurtling through the air and through one of the walls.
Lying in a pile of wood, dust falling from above and coating the silver armor. Coughing, his hair now coated in a layer of dust the warrior rose dizzily to his feet. “Arador!” Gilaad shouted into the wreckage of the house before seeing numerous figures through the cloud of smoke approaching.
“Huh, they came for us it seems.”
Fire roared around Silas as he drifted in and out of consciousness. How did he get here? What was happening?
"WARNING! DISPERSE FROM SHUTTLE. PRESSURE CRITICAL."
The young Sith struggled to push his body up from the floor, looking at the now crumpled exit ramp - caved inward and malfunctioning. Without a moment more of hesitation, Silas mustered what strength and focus that he could, using it to pry himself from the wreckage. The Force whispered to him in his rattled, dazed demeanor as he managed to free himself from the shuttle. Like dozens of voices all chattering, but in a hushed manner. Some giggled mockingly, others berated - scorned Silas for his pathetic display of incompetence. The young Sith pushed the voices down - deeper within his very mind and focused purely on his will and need to understand the moment.
As Silas stumbled some few feet away from the gradually building pyre of durasteel and electronics, a significant explosion shook the surrounding area and forced Silas into the ground with enough force to crack his helmet in half - shard after shard crumbled to the ground revealing a ghastly yellow eye, corruption taking hold of Silas at an alarming rate. The very thing within his body that would inevitably spell his fate. It likes to hide and learn all it can, witnessing both memory and experience as a silent passenger tucked somewhere ever deeper within the soul - yet somehow just beneath the surface, ready to seize any opportunity for control.
"Get... up..."
Silas struggled to push his abused body up once more after such trauma, yet he managed. His breathing was short and ragged, his ribs bruised and fractured. Confused and without memory of the hours that had passed before his rude awakening, he traversed the foreign environment all the while wincing and grunting from his injuries. Without a sense of direction, Silas began to feel slightly overwhelmed by the extremely abrupt circumstances at hand. His head began to develop a dull but irritating ache as he attempted to remember...
"You...will...be...worse...."
It was him. That man from his visions, the voice that plagued his dreams and life. It brought him here. Silas began to feel dizzy as he vaguely made out the distant yet distressed voices of others nearby. An uproar? The sounds of lightsabers clashing and screeching... no, this was conflict. The young Sith shakily readied his own blade arm, igniting an erratic spectacle of sanguine resolve. His presence was quite exposed, and he made no second guesses on whether or not he was fit to fight. He would do so until he died.
Curtis felt the ball of light strike his back, and with a flash his vision blurred. He was lucky not to have been facing the orb when it had gone off. All the same, he was now on the defensive once again, blocking blows from his own weapon. He glanced to Lori as she approached, detonator in hand. Whether she was bluffing or not didn't matter, it was a dangerous move all the same.
"I'll leave you here to rot!" The words exited his mouth before he could process them, they were raw and twisted with anger. He felt the force gathering inside his body, the rage transferring to his muscles as pure power. With a flick, he deactivated his blade just long enough to slip past one of the incoming blows, dodging to avoid the strike and reactivating the saber in seconds. He aimed for the neck.
In the back of his mind he could feel another presence nearby. It was dark, but oddly familiar.
Location: Fortress-Moon of Concordia, near Detainment Facility 7-C Objective: Butcher the trespassers in the Emperor's name. Equipment: Lightsaber (Red), Sith Lanvarok, and a curved ritual dagger. Tags: Lark
| Aaran Tafo
& Taru Cadera
---
Clearly, the Force favoured him this day. "A Jedi? Perfect." Smiling viciously, he joined the other Sith, finding a terminal along the way. A quick request and there he was. He could see the value of the remote-viewing technology the current Sith were so fond of, now. Not just any Jedi, but one he had fought before... only this time, there was no field preventing bloodshed, holding him back.
It was time to see what this acquaintance of his was really made off; a quick tip from his compatriot and a terrified Comms officer later, Sarrius managed to get himself access to the local transmission system. Apparently, there were "speakers" in all the halls, how convenient!
"Hello again, Jedi scum! You scurry like a rat, yet your subtlety is lacking. Come and face me, or I shall have a prisoner executed every five minutes until you do. Slowly, of course." A lunatic smile upon his lips, he turned back to his new companion. "Let us see whether he has the spine to face me, or whether I shall have to run him down like the mongrel he is. You are welcome to join, of course. Kraujas sveni won âti tave Tsis."
Karina crept slowly forward. With the emergency shutters closed, only the artificial light of the overhead lamps lit the way, and her shadow stretched far down the dim corridor. She heard the muffled sounds of conflict from across the facility, the mine’s defense forces clashing with an unknown quantity of Mandalorian raiders. She glanced behind her, fully expecting one of the warriors to come charging out guns blazing, but the hallway was silent but for the soft thunk of her boots on the metal floor, and the rasp of her shallow, quiet breaths as she crept forward.
They reached a junction and silently split up, with two of her soldiers, privates Willow and Yann, falling in behind Karina as she continued forward. They rounded a corner, and Dorniarn appeared on the biocomm network, unharmed. Karina nodded to herself; with her alive, they stood a better chance of repelling the incursion.
A burst of blaster fire sounded from not far away, and Karina paused. It was just a little too quiet here. She’d expected Legion soldiers running about, shouting across the space, with the other Command-Sergeant in the centre, coordinating the defence. Instead, there was just silence. Wherever the soldiers were, they were throwing themselves against the Mandalorian invaders somewhere else.
She crept forward, up to the room where her HUD indicated Dorniarn was located, pausing outside the door and looking around. The corridor was silent and empty.
The privates dutifully took their position on either side of her, and Karina crouched down by the door, wrapping her fingers around the handle and pushing against the surface to swing it open a crack. Light spilled out from within, and Karina’s mechanical ears immediately tuned in to the whirr of machinery, and beyond that, the sounds of quiet conversation from the middle of the room. She pushed the door open wider, risking a glance. She was looking down towards Dorniarn and her droids. In front of her was a Mandalorian brandishing a brightly glowing saber, the pair standing off, still talking quietly.
Karina strained to hear, turning back and reaching for her rifle once the interaction became tense and menacing. The fight would break out soon, and she’d be ready to take the intruder by surprise. A quick shot to the back probably wouldn’t pierce the Mandalorian’s armour, but it would provide a sufficient distraction for the Command-Sergeant and her forces to overpower the armoured warrior with relative ease.
Metal scraped loudly from down the corridor behind her, and she turned her head. Her two soldiers raised their weapons and moved to investigate, and Karina turned her gaze back to the standoff, raising her own weapon, readying herself to fire.
Another metallic scrape. Karina pursed her lips and looked down the corridor again just in time to see Private Willow hurtle across the junction and collide heavily with the wall, crumpling to the floor like a sack of bricks. Following the soldier strode a tall, broad Mandalorian covered head-to-toe in Beskar, their T-visor flashing menacingly as they surveyed their handiwork, then turned their attention on Karina, still crouching by the door.
She cursed and shuffled back, trying to stand up and grab her rifle, but the warrior was already crossing the distance, and when she leaped to her feet and raised the Autokrator, they merely batted the weapon away with a swiped of their armoured hand, stepping forward and sending Karina stumbling with a mighty shove.
She lost her balance and rolled, clambering up clumsily into a crouch, firing three quick shots with her charric straight at their chestplate. Each bounced harmlessly off the fabled Mandalorian Steel, but nevertheless forced the attacker back some. She saw her opening and dived left, slipping past the Mandalorian and diving for her fallen rifle, spinning around ready to fire the heftier gun. She was just too slow, and they were upon her again. The warrior hefted a strange-looking sword, swinging it around faster than Karina could react, and it struck her head as she was trying to stand.
The blade cut deeply into her cheek, and the sheer force of the blow knocked Karina to the ground. She sucked in a panicked breath and gave a muffled cry as the air whistled past her now-broken teeth. Blood filled her mouth and trickled down her face, the initial numbness already giving way to an ache she knew would soon become unbearably painful.
The Mandalorian wound up for another strike, but this time she was ready. As they spun around, she whipped her service dagger from its holster, leaping up and jamming the knife into their shoulder joint. The blade punctured the bodyglove, but struck something hard and went no further. The Mandalorian swung again, and she leaped out of the way. Panicked now, she turned and ran, dashing around the corner as a shotgun blast took out a chunk of the wall behind her.
Whimpering in pain, Karina backed up, one hand holding her charric in front of her, waiting for the Mandalorian to round the corner. Her other hand was clamped over her mouth, already drenched in the blood leaking from her shattered teeth, and the deep gash in her cheek, itself also running freely with blood. She stepped over Private Yann’s body, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle, and continued backing up.
Karina had heard about the Mandalorian soldiers, but she had never expected this. They were so strong, so fast, almost… Inhuman. How could she ever stand a chance against someone like that? The end of the corridor neared, and she halted. This wouldn’t last much longer, she had nowhere else to go.
The rushed flight seemed to cause the sith to drop the force lightning, giving Nox time to start to think again as he leapt onto his back midflight causing an early descent, before the mandalorian could do anything about it a blade was stuck inside one of the thrusters, one of the limited places where there was actually a hole. He could feel something inside break before sputtering before the sith even leapt off. As he did, Nox did the only thing he could from this position, turning one arm at him as he leapt off and using the Repulse on it, hoping to upset the siths descent and possibly ram him into the ground disoriented rather than a proper landing. Nox himself would soon slam into the ground, only barely managing to turn on his back, grunting and coughing as he hit the dirt at that speed. He forced himself to roll onto his side, this was no time for dealing with pain. He was back on his legs in a moment, still coughing. Oh boy, he was going to be sore. Might need someone to take a look at his back just from the impact. However now was not the time for that, he glanced to the side seeing the trouble RReyn Australis
had gotten himself into, cursing to himself. The Repeater was up again, firing away at Avernus
in an attempt to take advantage of the moment. As he did this he called for The Stril using the built in system in the helmet.
The ship remained cloaked as it rose into the air and began its approach to him obeying his command. He hoped it'd be enough that they wouldn't realize it was there until it was late. Meanwhile he was having to pay attention to all three sith and soldiers at once. However, given the last problem with the lightning, he wasn't willing to let something like that happen again. That's why while he focused the firepower of the weapon on Avernus, if he saw any sign of Vandra Zambrano
or Raya Najwa Zambrano
lifting hands to use the force in his direction he'd drop the repeater and pick up the sonic blasters, firing with each hand hoping that the design of the weapons would get past their armor. It was after-all better suited to take on what force sensitives often had. Since it would mostly bypass lightsabers, and often shook an enemies organs rather than being as localized of a blast. Naturally it would have hurt his ears just to use it, but his helmet was designed so that it would be much more tolerable...for him at least.
His jetpack was out, and that meant a great deal of his mobility had just been lost. He needed his ship and he needed it now. He hoped that it'd arrive soon so he could have it's two dual laser cannon turrets fire at darth Avernus. It would be too close to fire at Raya and Vandra because they were too close to Reyn, and the ship had only limited ability to maneuver without him actually in it. He just hoped it or allied forces would get here soon. It was unlikely he could take on three siths on his own. He was already imagining the possibility he was going to just get hit by force lightning again and not be able to do anything about it because he couldn't fight three at once.
Location: Moon of Concordia. Fortress Imperious Detention Wing
Objective: Break important looking Sithy things. Free any captured prisoners.
Tags: Felix AstermoLarkTaru Cadera
"Why the kark are there five different buttons to kill you?" A certain not very subtle Padawan asked the small gathering of Mandalorian prisoners as he stood outside their cell. Fingers carefully pushing button after button, trying to figure out how exactly he was supposed to find the release for the cells to let the assembled prisoners run free. Free to either grab a shuttle out of his hellhole. Or to cause some trouble.
And when Aaran looked in their eyes. Still saw the fires of defiance burning bright. A strength, a will that no amount of punishment from the Sith could extinguish. It was inspiring really, the Jedi could learn a lot from that kind of discipline. That kind of determination. Perhaps there was a reason why the Warrior culture of Mandalore had lasted the test of time.
He was even more surprised by the lack of hostility from the prisoners. After all, it wasnt like relations between Mandolorians and Jedi had ever been great in the past. But one could ultimately chalk that that up to them simply being relieved that for once, a saber slinger wasnt here to shoot lightning at them for fun. "Oh for the love of... Top right button Or'dinii Jetii. One of the Mandolorians at the front barked, their desire to be free finally reaching a fever pitch at Aaran's continued confusion at the panel.
Letting a small sound of triumph, the doors were finally unlocked with a hiss. Many a Mandolorian scrambling out, picking up pieces of armour and weaponry from fallen guards. Even when there were not enough weapons to go around, various prisoners began turning their blasters on the wall panels, blasting them off to act as makeshift shields for those without weapons to carry and cover their comrades sides.
All of it entirely unprompted. Another testament to the sheer burning will to fight and seek retribution for their home. Even though Aaran was about to point them in the direction of a shuttle off-world. He could feel it. Each and every one of them would deny the chance to go to safety. Preferring to fight alongside their rescuers. To the death if need be.
It was then the speakers crackled, and the familiar voice of Sarrius boomed from them. Even without seeing his face, Aaran could feel the sneer on the Pureblood's face from the sheer contempt dripping from his voice. He opened his mouth to respond, either to call out the Sith or make a taunt of his own. But before he could answer, the same Mandolorian who instructed the Padawan on opening the cages let two bolts fly from his procured rifle. One at the camera and one at the speaker.
And one by one, the cameras and speakers along the halls leading towards the communication center where Lark and Sarrius waited began to go out one at a time. The source of their destruction unseen. Simply It hardly took precognitive powers to imagine that the Jedi was making his answer clear in a more dramatic sense than a simply reply. Slowly but surely, both Lark and Sarrius could feel it, a burning presence in the Force approaching them at a rapid pace, soon to make it to the door just before the five minute mark of the Sith's deadline. The strength of it easily matching them both. Sarrius himself would note that it felt different from that time they fought in a tournament. It burned brighter, more focused and far more dangerous.
It seemed that the Sith was not the only one holding back in the tournament.
There was no dramatic booming knock, or announcment. Simply a beep at the door's console. "So. You gonna let me in? Or do you want me to make a dramatic entrance? His voice called out through the speaker, his face plainly visible on the external camera right outside. Seemingly alone and waiting to be let in.
The Mando'ade entered the city with the fury of a people seeking vengeance, of warrior's fighting for their homes, and the promise of death and destruction in their eyes and their moves. They advanced in their turtle formations, the AT-ADs at the forefront, taking the hits meant for the Beskad Warriors, who in turn took the damage meant for the regulars. While the heavy formations moved slowly and steadily, constantly firing lasers, slugs, and other rifles at the enemies, they also set up rockets and personal artillery devices. As they advanced, these weapons fired constantly as well, no matter how many they lost, which were many, they kept firing.
As they moved in, the lighter Mando troops used their jetpacks to leapfrog forward, taking enemy positions from the top, the back, and everywhere else, while the turtle formations took the damage and dealt it back. The boarding shields truly shown here, as they protected the soldiers from the worst of the damage, as the Titan Tanks could no longer manuever side by side for the most part. In some cases the tanks continued on, side by side with the Mandos, while in others they rushed forward with their shields to bear, taking down fortifications as they could. This left several flanks open, which were usually covered after more losses. The Titan Tanks for their part either set up artillery positions and rained down missiles on their enemies, or rushed ahead of the formations, taking damage to provide distractions and destroy formations. Many were lost or damaged in this way, but each driver, gunner, and soldier willingly gave their lives to advance.
It was now that more drop pods came down, this time with more valuable troops. They were escorted down by Mosquito Fighters, thus preventing the loss of most of the pods. From these pods emerged more Beskad Warriors, more Mandalorians, and more vehicles. Amongst these vehicles were the WLO-5 battle tanks and the Aryx. Both of these vehicles were suited for the tight confines of the city, and both would be used to great effect. Many of these were piloted by droids, their programming making them perfect for the suicide runs they'd be doing. The WLO battle tanks streamed forth from the drop pods alongside the Aryx's, half heading into the city, while the other half went to the flanks.
On the flanks of the Mandalorian lines, they continued to distract the Sith vehicles. While the vehicles were good at preventing further breakouts, the vehicles already out and about had far more luck at evading the deadly fire. This didn't prevent others from driving out though, blasting away with missiles and weapons only to be destroyed. Some got lucky, but of the dozen or so that had tried, most had died. That's not to say their deaths were in vain, far from it. This allowed the Titan Tanks and Hellwalkers in the center to focus fire more on the Sith vehicles, particularly the deadlier ones, the cataphract tanks. In the process, several blew up completely, particularly the Titan Tanks, less so the Hellwalkers. They were disabled more, though others blew up in a spectacular fashion.
It was then that the WLO battle tanks and Aryx scout vehicles came into play. Both these vehicles were far faster than the Titan Tanks and Hellwalkers. Even as the Titan Tanks out in the field harassed the Sith formations, the WLO tanks moved forward, even as a handful of other Titan Tanks came forward in artillery formation. They opened fire with missiles even as the WLO tanks charged out, taking the brunt of the enemy fire. Several blew up, but their loss wasn't even noticed by the droid piloted tanks, who instead simply fired with everything they had, moving to flank into the city. They were aiming to cut off the tanks from the city line and provide more breathing room for the 'box' of Mandos in the center.
As they did this, the Aryx scout vehicles rushed in the opposite directions, their superior speed having them rush out to the flanks. They fired as they moved, janky as the aim may be, they still fired. As they moved, it would be clear to anyone watching that their final goal was behind the Sith vehicles, to hit them there. To cover this though, several smoke canisters were fired from the Titan Tanks, overing some cover. Those vehicles in the center of the Mandalorian formation fired in every direction at Sith enemies. If it wasn't a friendly target, then it was being shot at by Hellwalkers, Titan Tanks, WLO battle tanks, Aryx scout vehicles, and the Mandos themselves. All in all, despite the flanks and all their losses, the vehicles of the Mando'ade still held strong, and they still continued on.
Another bombing run went towards Hell's Angel, the Sith pilots intent on taking down the massive titan. However, the Mandalorians wouldn't simply let that happen, no they'd give them a fight for it, and had been so far. Now though, now further reinforcements had come in with the latest batch of drop pods. Said drop pods had been dropping almost continuously, bringing droids and clone Mandalorians to the battle, keeping most of the valuable troops from being slaughtered by the AA fire. This latest batch was different though, for it contained valuable Mandalorians, Beskad Warriors, other warriors of the clans, and more vehicles. To show that this batch was more important, there was an escort of fighters, Mosquito Fighters to be exact.
These droid starfighters dove headlong alongside the drop pods, pulling up at the last second to save themselves. Their mission was to absorb the fire from the AA guns, so that the pods could reach the ground. Then once those pods did, the swarm flew up and straight towards the latest batch of fighters and bombers heading to Hell's Angel. They fired relentlessly at their enemies, not changing their course, hoping to ram into the bombers as a final act of spite, no matter how many they lost, they kept charging on. Even as more AA fire flew up from the Hellwalkers, Titan Tanks, and regular rocket launchers. The main swarm did this, while several individual fighter squads moved away from the swarm and towards the Sith ground vehicles. There they opened fire on the vehicles, while those too damaged to continue flying aimed to ram into the vehicles, taking their enemies with them, as per their programming.
As this happened, Hell's Angel fired another couple of bursts towards the cataphract vehicles. It did so with its devestator canon, while the laser shot once more towards the Barrage. Then several weapons rumbled to life that hadn't fired yet, the AV-7 Heavy Artillery. Two of these weapons fired towards the Barrage, while the other pair fired at the various cataphract tanks visible. Soon Hell's Angel would advance once more, its legs finally functional. But for now it was a deadly stationary target, its weapons firing relentlessly, even as it shook from various shots directed towards it.
Adenn had attacked, but his opponent had the Force on his side, which meant that most of his attacks were blocked. While frustrating to Adenn, it was to be expected from a Sith enemy. And when he advanced, his enemy chose to run like a coward instead of face him. Growling at that, Adenn prepared to follow before Vaulkhar was suddenly back and on the attack. Bracing himself, Adenn didn't see the cryban grenade until it exploded, though his battle computer tried to stop it. Sadly it failed, which meant that Adenn's shins were frozen to the tank for a few moments. Adenn rectified that by burning the cryoban freeze stuff away with his flamethrower, before turning to follow Vaulkhar, though it took a dozen seconds or so to properly get rid of it. Despite the short time it took to remove it, the cryoban did enough damage. There would be leftover frost as Adenn moved to free himself, this would slow him down, even as part of the bite of the cold hit his legs, though he pushed through the pain.
As the man ran, Adenn's personal guard, the Beskad Elite, engaged him. They fired upon him and ran after him, aiming to slow him down while Adenn caught up. Said Mando did so in a less than grandiose way. Holstering the sword to his thigh, Adenn raised his E'care(in sig) from its waist holster and opened fire on Vaulkhar using his special slugs(at top), even as the Beskad Elite attempted to encircle Vaulkhar and stop him. At the same time the tank that Vaulkhar was aiming for stopped and turned its gun towards him, a clear indicator to cease his advance to it.
Grinning madly at the sight, Adenn leapt forward from the tank, activating his jetpack to get rid of the extra cryoban freeze from his legs. While in the air, Adenn let loose another burst of fire from the E'care before switching back to his sword. The entire time though his arms of zordos kept firing with their weapons, though they had switched hands during the short time Adenn was stuck, hoping to confuse Vaulkhar. Letting out a roar, Adenn came down to the ground once more before rushing after Vaulkhar, his Beskad Elite around him as the foolish Sithling had gone closer to them after running from Adenn.
OOC Summary:
Part 1:
Heavy weapons fire shot towards all defensive positions
Titan Tanks advance from the turtle formations, often sacrificing themselves to allow advance
WLO Battle Tanks and Aryx Scout Vehicles arrive, moving to support the forward advance and the flanking forces
Part 2:
Titan Tanks and Hellwalkers focus fire on individual Cataphract Sith vehicles
Titan Tanks continue to harass Sith vehicles how possible, they fire missiles and other anti vehicle ordnace
WLO Tanks rush out, moving between the Mando formation and Sith formations
Aryx Scout vehicles move alongside other side, moving to flank the Sith vehicles completely
Losses rise
Part 3:
Mosquito Fighters arrive with the drop pods
Fighters move to intercept the starfighters and bombers, usually suicidal in their manuevers
Hell's Angel fires AV-7 Artillery canons at cataphract vehicles and barrage's
Hellwalkers engage more AA fire towards enemy fighters
Mig looked at the Sith, Dorniarn. He'd never heard the name, so he simply shook his head. His clan had been a little distant from others until recent years, so it made sense at least.
"Can't say I have Dorniarn." Then she said it. She couldn't let Mig pass. The Mandalorian tilted his head, and slowly got into a more combat oriented position. If she wouldn't let him by, he'd have to fight, and it seemed they both knew it. "Well then, I guess I'll have to go through then." Mig thought for a moment about throwing a war droid into the Sith, but no. He would fight them on equal terms. No tricks right now. He charged forward, keeping his senses ready, and quickly went to strike Doriarn. He'd get through. He'd get the miners out, if nothing else. If the Mandos under the Network could win here... maybe they could push further. Get other peoples behind them. Free other worlds.
Meanwhile, Mynock's side of this conflict was going a lot differently. He was practically dominating the Sith soldier he was now facing. They had jammed a dagger into his should, but the blade didn't do much. It did make a slight hitch in his shoulder though. That'd have to be fixed later, but right now it was time to finish this. Mynock looked at the Sith ready to strike until he realized something. The fear she had. The Mando may have been a droid, but centuries tended to add personality to droids, and he was no exception. This wasn't a fight. It'd be a slaughter. He looked at her, a deep mechanical sigh coming from him.
"I'm here to free the miner, not face a child who can't seem to stop me." The droid said in a droid-like, base voice. He kept his optics on her, still ready for anything. "Yet I fear you're spunk will force my hand." He kept his weapons pointed towards Karina, seeming to wait for a response.
At the time of the Proxy's death So this is this proxy's end? What a joke. lying on the floor in a puddle of filth and his own charred blood. Pathetic. Fine, whatever. Let it be over with then, let this be the end for this shrakking failure. The other one can survive this. I know he can. Regardless, at the end of the day, I'm still standing, and that counts for something right? Right.
...
What is this? I can't move in my own chamber. I'm too tired, too weak. This death really took a lot out of me. Am I powerless right now? No, I refuse. I will not let it take me today. I was strong. No, no. I am strong. I will make it out of this. I am strong. I am strong. You'll see. The battle raged hard, harder than any battle Xan had participated in before and it showed in her uncharacteristic expression. Wild, hungry, furious. Sweat and dirt and blood and grime flowed under her metal boots like streams in a forest as she forced herself to the front lines alongside her personal legionnaires who themselves joined the formations of their comrades. Xan cared not as she was intent on carving through any and all Mandalorian fools who dared to oppose her. While her predominant form was Soresu, of which she held impeccable form, Xan's application of Djem So was vicious, chaotic, unrefined but effective.
Many who engaged with the Sith Knight found themselves severed in half at the waist or decapitated and tossed away like mere trash, her roars of indignation being their only acknowledgment. Such was her impulsive moment of passion and fury that even the blasts from the advancing Titan Tanks barely stopped her charge and slaying. One particularly unlucky, albeit brave, Mandalorian met a particularly gruesome end after he, upon being disarmed of his weapon, unleashed a heavy armored fist into the woman's face only to be vivisected, decapitated, and dismembered immediately after. It was only when she had joined the encirclement around the enemy commander's position did her wrath subside, her attention now once more on locating Irveric Tavlar.
Her focus was solid and linear. Even as the projectiles unleashed from the anti-air armored lines screamed overhead, strafing allied fighters, and the Titan Tanks engaged so vigorously with Imperial vehicles, and the Hell's Angel continued its advance, she was set on finding the commander of this defense. She had to formulate a plan, gain a plan, anything to report back to Lorale and show him that she was capable without Kascalion. And so she slunk behind the defensive lines and moved, reaching out with the Force, hoping to locate him. The proxy appeared from nowhere in a flash of light behind the walls of Sundari, placed exactly where the previous one had died so ignobly and left strewn across the ground and walls like discarded paste. Kascalion snorted at the sight and merely marched to the gate with newfound disdain where there was once simple indifference. The enemy had destroyed a proxy by sheer coincidence, and if there was one thing Kascalion despised above anything else, it was coincidences. A quick leap to the top of the gate in order to gaze upon the plebes below assured that the enemy would no longer have coincidences much to his appreciation, watching with slight a slight impressed expression as the invaders began to get their forces within the city via aerial tactics.
"What a silly battle," the Devil Lion grunted in great irritation as he lowered himself to sit atop the gate. "Fiisesm Sem, hiisesm Msihvsisilesihs. Aleeih es siss ithie zess shsieh."
His eyes, golden and full of internal thought, shifted from person to person within the battle, Imperial, Sith, and Mandalorian. It was a battle of great skill and conflict to be sure, but one that would quickly turn to a simple war of attrition if a major breakthrough was not made. The Devil Lion did not wish to be that breakthrough as he knew the defenders could very well do it themselves, doubly so as the Vodvtaki formed in the far distance, likely on the spastic demands of his older brother. Silently, the Devil Lion resigned himself to rest atop the gate until his aid was entirely needed.
It was only when he heard the frantic screams and shouts of battle within the city between the Imperial defenders and the Mandalorians, who had quite ingeniously brought quite a slew of offensive vehicles in their drop pods, that he resigned his aid was entirely needed. Rising to his feet whilst turning to face the interior of the city, the Devil Lion noticed that many of, if not all of the city's alleyways and corridors had been blocked off in order to force the invaders into various chokepoints.
"Impressive," Kascalion conceded. "But I can do better....eradication time."
It only took a few seconds of build-up within the proxy before his body began to exude a dark power of previously suppressed vexation and resentment, his veins, eyes, and mouth erupting into a bloody red glow akin to that of a violent sun. The air around the gate began to feel stifling and oxygenless adorned with a deep humming bass. Crackles of black lightning stretched from finger to finger as the proxy opened his hands wide, palms facing the sky dotted with fire and vessels. The hum around him grew and grew, the air visibly vibrating, shaking as if in fear. And then, suddenly, time seemed to slow and across the city, all who turned to the booming echo that struck before the eradication could see a single blinking red light atop the gate.
Kascalion's indifferent expression contorted, the blank eyes down turning as a smile widened, bearing the proxy's bloodied teeth. His jaw opened, unhinged at the bone and held on by the tendons, wider than should have been possible, and a voice as deep as the abyssal plains of the Netherworld bellowed out from the bottom of his throat: "ERADICATION TIME!"
For all of ten seconds, a torrential downpour of lightning as black as the void of deep space struck across the city like spears from the heavens above. There was silence for the entirety of the attack save for the static aftershocks of each strike. Many of the invaders were slain instantly and reduced to mere ash on the ground; many more were injured by the sheer impact of each strike, blasted into buildings and the air; many were simply lucky to avoid death and injury. They would be the first ones targeted by the Devil Lion when he leaped from the gate and entered the battle proper, his rage once bottled for months unleashed in a sadistic fashion. Gone was Kascalion Giedfield. In his place, the Ashen Devil of Noxis had risen once again.
Xan Imcro enters the battle with her legionnaires who join formation with the defenders.
She begins searching for Irveric Tavlar to aid him personally and prove herself in battle.
Kascalion returns in a new proxy and unleashes a massive barrage of lightning upon the Mandalorian invaders inside the city before joining the ground battle.
Khan chuckled at Gilaad's initial comment about needing charm, keeping to himself the fact that he was a happily married man with a loving wife and child in his life that he would give the entire Galaxy to support. Of course, that was a fact that was kept strictly secret in order to keep them safe from anyone who might try to pull leverage on the Arkanian bounty hunter. The hunter would chuckle once more as Gilaad continued to speak, " I was under the impression that you Mandos didn't even have a brain to think with if you are an example of one to compare to. "
Arador glanced over to Gilaad as he put his armor on before snapping another snarky comment, " Man that suit makes you look fat. " His head shifted as if he was on alert as his sensor picked something up. There wasn't much time to react as an explosion rocked the homestead, the force sending Arador flying as he slammed into the wall. He'd fall flat on the ground as he groaned, the underlying gel layer of his suit having absorbed much of the force as he pushed himself up, " Kark that's gonna leave a mark... "
As the dust settled, the indicators of some not so friendly individuals starting to move into the homestead began to beep in his ears as he got himself off the ground, his HUD shifting to register biosignatures to see through the smoke, reaching for his sidearm as he dragged himself behind what was left of one of the bedroom walls. As Gilaad spoke, Khan would make a gesture for him to shut up as he waited, glancing up to see the barrel of a blaster appear sweeping the room. Arador's arm would shoot up as he grabbed the barrel and roughly pulled down, taking one of the intruding renegade Mandalorians by surprise as they abruptly bent forward over the half-destroyed wall only to find Arador's pistol stuffed right underneath their helmet with no time to react. A simple squeeze of the trigger sent a charric bolt right into their skull as the helmet flew off their head, revealing the cup-sized smoldering hole having gone clean through the bottom of their chin and out the top of their skull.
Arador would stand up as he pressed his shoulder into the corpse's midsection while his free hand moved to grab the collar, holding the dead Mandalorian like a grotesque meat shield as he tucked the barrel of his pistol under the corpse's armpit, firing a few shots into the beskar plated chests of the intruding Mandalorians as he sent them sprawling before he turned to Gilaad, " You're welcome to get off your ass and help by the way. " The intruders would retaliate as they fired back at Arador, firing blaster shots into the back of their dead companion.
The begrudging respect in the Hyal'Hâsk's voice was evident to the Dark Lord, who surveyed the mounting carnage through quadnoculars mounted on a long skinny anchor magnetically suctioned to the floor. The device could enhance so far that he could make our minute details on Australis' armor as he fought, the casualty readings scrolling down the left side of the enhanced view as more and more Graug threw themselves on Mandalorian blades. Their tough hide and crude armor could weather much, but they were not invulnerable. Yet even when grievously wounded, they would not cease in their desire to butcher the enemies of the Sith.
"His armor is his shield, but it will also be his tomb." He turned his gaze away from the quadnoculars to glance at the brutish attendant, "Have they engaged?" A moment's pause, "Almost, Tanfuksham'Goth. They are closing the noose." The Dark Lord looked back through the quadnoculars, sniffing slightly in response. "That is somewhat satisfactory." Several more minutes passed, the sounds of explosions nearly deafening in the tightly sealed corridor. Some of those detonations came perilously close to the Dark Lord's position, but he didn't even flinch.
After a time, the Dark Lord again spoke. "You may inform Lady Raaf that the time for the beast's birth has begun, I have no doubt she will be quite thrilled." The Hyal'Hâsk bowed and turned towards what passed for a Graug communication officer, a menial serf cybernetically enhanced with long-range holo-communicators and other technology. Whatever the halfling had to say the Lady of Secrets, the Dark Lord did not hear. One moment he was there, and the next he had vanished completely. Transmuting his molecular structure across time and space had taken some great effort, but now he could do it easily so long as his destination was within a clear line of sight.
He reappeared in the air above the armored Australis, both arms held back over and behind his head as he soared through the emptiness. As he swung both arms down, a volley of invisible spears lurched forward down towards the fighting Australis. His momentum would continue to carry him through the air to land somewhere further in the cacophonous melee if he remained unabated.
Location: Mandalore - Sundari Bio-Dome Objective: Bring the m************ ruckus. Allied Forces: The Sith Empire - Irveric Tavlar
| BobertEZ Enemy Forces: The Network - Adenn Kyramud Gear:Lightsaber | Sword | Armor Companion:Rhaegos - On Loan from Uncle Mord Theme: Iron Maiden - Powerslave
It was beginning to grow dire for the recently resurrected. While he managed to zip between one tank and nearly reach the other, the massive war machine shifted its aim to the smaller target. Given Vaulkhar's quicker, unhindered frame, his force-infused speed put a large enough gap between him and the rising Mandalorian commander, there was enough time to seek out an adequate escape from the sprung trap. Unfortunately, the advancing squadron dedicated to their Alor's defense was putting enough pressure on their target he was backed into the worst corner possible. The phrik armor adorning his body had taken a dozen or more hits, showing enough wear prove it. Beneath the points of impact, Vaulkhar's flesh either sizzled or bruised. There was only so much the metal plating and the armorweave beneath could mitigate. While his rage continued to grow, there was little he could do beyond taking out a second saber and focusing entirely on his defensive. The world slowed around the former Sith as his grip on the force had only strengthened in his pain. Though a wave of blaster bolts sped towards him, the white and vermilion sabers danced in tune with their wielder.
No defense was impenetrable, but Vaulkhar's was damn near close in that instant. How he moved was more akin to a dance than combat. The warrior, bearing the blood of an echani, was raised among his kind. Movement was as much a part of him as speaking. With the force driving him forward at blurring speeds and his weapons moving about him so swiftly a trail of light seemed to shimmer about him, it was mystifying to gaze upon. Soresu, makashi, shii-cho, and shien were each showcased over the time it took Adenn to free himself and take aim at the fallen Jedi once again.
Suddenly, the world became a cacophony of light and shadow. Lightning as dark as pitch crashed down around them, darkening the area before exploding with blinding white light. Vaulkhar instinctively closed his eyes and dove down. Kascalion's lightning arched downward from the heaven's and blasted the enemy forces with reckless abandon. Vaulkhar used the chaos of the sudden force storm to leap back up to his feet and propel himself up and over the nearest grouping of the elite squad. Though his eyes were snapped shut beneath his helmet, his two sabers continued their elegant dance. More shots pelted his body, forcing him to abandon the immediate squabble and race towards Tavlar's position. In Vaulkhar's retreat, he mentally contacted the dragon, calling it to return and aid him.
At the fallen Jedi's request, the dragon turned back in the direction of the battle. Rhaegos' wings beat furiously as it raced back...
Position: Sundari Objective: Mandalore - Repel the Mandalorian assault. Allies: Vaulkhar
; BobertEZ
- The Sith Empire Enemies:Adenn Kyramud
- The Network Gorilla Equipment: Battle Armor 'Vishnu' Military Shield DG-41 "Inferos" Disruptor Rifle HG-88 'Big Iron' Hand-cannon The armor was wearing thin. Irveric hadn't felt the burden of command weigh this heavy in a long while. All of it was suddenly cracking at the seams within him. The fatigue of war was baring its full brunt on the age old battlemind. Minor victories short lived and overruled by crushing defeat.
It was grueling ; it was an ever ending siege on the General's mind. Numbers, movements and calculations all drowned out by the screams of his fallen comrades. Though his mettle was long tempered in the furnace of war each and every bloodcurdling cry for mercy as the lifeblood was bled from his slain comrades to grease the cogs of a horrible machine.
Flicking his comms to his Lord Colonel after a brief survey of the situation he spoke up through shaky words. His characteristic frigidness...coldness all froze over and snapped ; shattering into rage. What his cultist peers derived strength from the battle commander could only be weakened by. Any fierce emotional burst that could come over him only inhibited his judgement as a commander - forced urgency where there need be not.
"Lord Colonel...pull back your formation - secure a path for our men to take hold in the city. We'll fight them there...you just- just regroup with your armor and hit them at the flanks- hit and run you know what to do. Set the barrage to detonate - tell them all to pull back. Move out." Tavlar voiced before he heaved out a heavy breath, tapping one of his lower officers on the shoulder he raised his arm into the air before twirling his finger and pointing toward the walls of Sundari. Fall back. The action drew a concerned eye from the Major beneath his blackened visage embedded within camouflaged duraplast but it was difficult for any veteran under Irveric to challenge his judgement. Victory or defeat - he'd gotten them out alive one way or another.
"Copy...Deathshead. Pull back in ranks into the city. We'll carry the fight there. Move out." The Major sounded out - mimicking a cadence not too unlike Irveric who by now could barely lift his hand cannon in time to slam a verpine flechette into a charging Mandalorian who'd broken through the ranks. The Beskar clad marauders would continuously fade in and out with visions of battles past - be they Silver Jedi troopers or rebel insurgents. His troopers fading between between the camouflaged armored assault infantry of the present to crimson and black One Sith of his past all the while head rattling explosions struck the earth around him. With slow steps the line of infantry began to fall back into the city. In order to secure the funneling of Tavlar's troops back into the city the Armor had to act, extending their flanks to accommodate for the bulging of the Mandalorian formation ; forcing the Cataphracts from their siege position as several were knocked out in the raging battle ; many of the crewmen managing out of their hatches only to be cut down by enemy fire. They perhaps were the more fortunate as the others were resorted to hunks of charcoal black flesh in their durasteel coffins.
The fighting was harsh but a great many of the infantry were able to re-embark aboard the repulsor tank that dropped them off to begin with or cut through to the gates in a fierce assault backed by claymores and carnivores who served hard cover to absorb the blows or the surrounding fire. Eventually a convex half-circle of repulsor tanks would serve to funnel in the Sith Troopers and create easy path ways to cut down any brave Mandalorians who sought to cut through.
All the while the HavT Barrage continued to absorb heavy fire from Hell's Angel and the surrounding armor - the deflector shields shattering to make way for the incredibly thick armor to absorb the blows. Manning the Lava cannons and mass-driver batteries for a few moments longer the crew began to escape - one of the technicians linking the fuel-supply of one of the lava cannons to the main engine on a fused time which would allow the retreat to take place with ample time. They might've ceded lives and ground to the Beskar bandits - but they wouldn't cede equipment and ordinance. The pilot diverted all power to the forward advance of the engine in order to pile the vehicle into the Mandalorian lines to force target priority.
The air space was still held within the mailed gauntlet of the Sith-Empire - the nearby starfighter corps allowing for ample control of the skies as dominance class fighters were quick to overwhelm the outgunned Mandalorian pilots with bomber squadrons quickly refitted and flown back to land more airstrikes. With the Sith-Imperial regrouping toward the city it allowed for more ample room for the bombers to send ordinance down over the turtle formations ; splitting priority between them and the Hell's Angel.
Sith-Imperial troops begin to funnel back into Sundari - ceding ground and losing several armored units in the process all in order to take the fight behind their walls and into prepared positions.
Air space is held by the Sith Empire who continue to press strafing runs and air strikes unto the assaulting Mandalorians and Hell's Angel.
The Mailed fist formation splits with one section to contest the bulging flanks as the others move back toward the wall to cover the retreat.
The HavT Barrage is rigged to detonate as it diverts all power to its forward advance toward the Mandalorian formation. (Next post)
Location:SINN broadcast studio Objective: III - Rally the troops, dishearten the invaders Allies:Tekkio
| The Sith Empire Enemies: The Network - seeking opponents Post: 4
Aerarii listened as the SINN correspondents, highly trained in propaganda and the manipulation of news, described in graphic detail the battle raging in the domed city of Sundari. Ever yexplosion, building collapse and civilian death was linked to forces of The Network, with the Sith Legion painted as a heroic humanitarian force intent on saving lives and property. The Sith occupation of Mordinae, as the planet was now called, had left the locals with so little. The pain of every damaged structure and injured neighbour was double that of a regular planet. Reports were coming in that loyal Mandos continued to stream into the streets and engage The Network to prove their fealty to the Emperor and collect on the bounties offered by Governor Lirka Ka
.
While the fighting sounded intense, it was far removed from the nondescript SINN broadcast studio. The bureaucrat dearly hoped it stayed that way.
Teyn Gratiir, the puppet ruler and Imperial-approved Mandalore, continued to speak with inflammatory rhetoric, stirring up the locals to join in the fight and throw themselves into the fray. The more ordinance The Network was forced to use on the locals, the less they could direct at the Sith forces.
“Sir, we think we’ve cracked the enemy comm net.” Aerarii looked past the camdroids to the control room, and the technician who was speaking to him via his earpiece. “They’ll filter us out pretty quickly, but you’ll have a few moment.”
The Treasurer-General nodded, and took a moment to gather his thoughts. He starred down the barrel of the camdroid, speaking to both The Network fighters on Mandalore/Mordinae and the loyalist militia.
“Invaders, hear me. You come to this world seeking glory, yet your only reward shall be death. The might of the Sith and strength of the loyal clans form a shield of beskar that will not break or bend. If you value your lives, return to your ships and leave this proud planet to…”
The green light on the camdroid, which indicated they were transmitting, dimmed. “We lost the signal sir. Give us a few moments to find another way in.”
Masking his disappointment, Aerarii smiled down the holocamera. “I’m getting an update from the space battle raging between the murderous raiders and brave Sith Amarda. According to the latest tactical report, the enemy are severely weakened and already showing signs of fleeing.” While the report may not have been accurate, it was important to keep up morale among the locals. Time to spin a tale of Sith might to remind the Mandos just how powerful their occupiers where. “Only last month, the Sith Armada successfully routed pirates from the nearby planet of…”
When the battle between the Mandalorian invaders and the Moridinae defences of Legionnaires began at the outskirts of Sundari, Joycelyn had first watched the bloodshed. The Mandalorians were pushing hard against the Empire’s defences, with a seemingly endless rain of support crafts coming in and placing down more and more pieces on the field. She knew, if she had come here as a commanding officer, she would have been in the thick of it along with the esteemed General Tavlar.
Her hands balled into fists as she watched it.
The flash of bombs lit her face as her brow furrowed in anger and eyes narrowed in seething hate. The turbulent gusts of wind thrown of the bombardment made the cape on her shoulders whip and toss.
“Mother Vahl, guide me.”
Joycelyn stretched out her right arm to the handmaiden, who promptly strapped the shield to her arm without comment or hesitation.She shot a smile back at her date as Pythia fastened the straps of the shield and presented the long spear for Joycelyn to take.
“Senna dear, I am afraid I will have to join the front line.” she twirled the silver shaft over her hand then let it come to rest under her armpit ”I won’t ask you to join me, but I would feel a lot better about it if you were.” Her smile turned wry. “After all, you are the Triumvir of strength.”
Pythia stood behind her mistress, hands clasped and head turned slightly down in deference before the two Sith Lords. The miraluka had served Joycelyn since the Princess had been a young and willful girl, shorter than the rather diminutive Pythia herself. Pythia had seen Joycelyn grow to be a rebellious acolyte, a marauder, a pilgrim of Vahl, and now a Lord of the Sith. Pythia felt pride in seeing Emma Cuilein’s daughter rise so high.
Joycelyn turned sharply before she was further distracted and headed off, Pythia following a few steps behind. They did not run straight into the battle, but met up with two Imperial Crownguard and a small escort of Blackblades that had watched the perimeter. It was not a large force, barely a drop in the chaotic ocean that was this battle of Moridinae. However, every Crownguard as equal to a knight in strength of the force, and the Blackblades had earned their legendary status for good reason. Pythia was no great fighter, but her skill was in bolstering her allies through the Force, while masking herself with illusion and mind tricks.
They darted off into the field, skirting around the main forces, then plunging in to attack through the Mandalorian troops attacking the Sith-Imperial flanks. They came out from an illusory shroud cast by Pythia and attacked from the rear with close quarters and rapid fire, before Joycelyn and the Crownguard came in with their armour and polearms.
They did not attack like a large force, but like the guerrilla forces they had faced so often; they hid in the terrain, got close, hit fast, and moved on before reinforcements could arrive.
Felix Astermo
Aaran Tafo
Taru Cadera
