Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!
Location: Shield Generator
Allies: SJO l Thirdas Heavenshield
l
Enemies: Brynadul
This was a good time to have a smoke. Leaning on a machine gun, Tulan looked over at the young kid, nodding. His helmet was off, hanging off the optic of the weapon he was on.
"Better do something cool with that new arm, kid."
There were few things in life like charging up a machine gun. Rifles and all were cool- but a machine gun? A full on, mass-murdering blaster? Well there was little else like it. Tulan watched the sky, the encroaching enemy swarming them from the sky.
Idiots.
"Pick your shots. Hit 'em where the armor plate doesn't stop it." Tulan picked up his helmet, tossing his cigarette over the wall.
"Not every day you get to say you killed monsters. No mercy, kid. No mercy, no quarter. They won't show you any. When they get close, make sure they regret comin' 'ere. They're all zealots and fanatics. Show 'em that they shoulda prayed somewhere else."
He looked down at Thirdas as he climbed up to take his position on the machine gun. Normally, leaders took a more administrative role or command, but Tulan was not about to sit behind the lines and stare at a map and bark into a radio of where to put his boys. Not Tulan, uh uh, no way. Tulan was a ride or die, trap or die kind of dude- there wasn't a bone in his body that didn't want to be here.
Tulan liked to fight, Tulan liked to kill monsters. Today was a win-win in his regard.
OBJECTIVE: INSURGENT
LOCATION: STRIKER SHARD, DOCKED WITHIN A PHEDAK CARRIER
EQUIPMENT: IN SIGNATURE
BYRN IN VICINITY: Galak
| Osam
| Kyrim Tenebris
INTENT TO ENGAGE: Beltran Rarr
| Open to engage up to 3 others.
The Crusade's might would make the Jedi cower in fear.
The Striker Shard contained three Zealot Elites, among the finest soldiers in the Byrn'adul armies. They would be sent in as commandos, eliminating high-value targets to allow the main force to charge uninterrupted while weakening the enemy lines. This battle in particular was unique - the Byrn would be fighting a considerable quantity of Jedi.
Krarolk thought back to his prior engagements with the Force users of the various Jedi orders. He had fought a six-limbed Jedi twice during the Byrn conquest of various worlds, and the two had proven to be nearly equals. Yet before either side could land a decisive blow, one of the combatants would always be forced to leave due to outside circumstances. Consequently, Krarolk had yet to end a Jedi's life. However, today would be different. There were so many Jedi to choose from that Krarolk could already feel his excitement physically building within his body. A Jedi's lightsaber would be an ultimate trophy, a proof that one of the finest warrior classes in the galaxy had been disarmed and vanquished.
The Zealot's attention returned to his Shard, where the other two Zealot Elites sat quietly on either side of him. One of them was a bulky Baedurin, an individual who was as loud as he was incredibly resilient. The fact that his mouth remained shut illustrated how serious the upcoming battle would be. The other Elite was a fellow Aeravalin, the highly experienced Commander of the trio who had effectively lead them through countless campaigns.
Additionally, while all three Zealot Elites were extremely talented in many different forms of combat, each Elite had their specialty. The Baedurin was the demolitions and heavy weapons specialist, dual wielding Radesh Shredders and carrying over a dozen Barad Impact Grenades. His resilience was unrivaled among the Elites, and his heavy armor made him nearly immune to small-arms fire. Krarolk was a melee weapon specialist, able to wield swords and polearms as if they were extensions of his body. Further enhancing his skills was his ability to use the spiritual energy (the Force) within him to imbue his weapons, armor, and even his own body to improve his combat characteristics. Finally, the Commander of the trio was a master marksman who had earned the nickname "The Crusade's Eye" for his ability to detect and eliminate enemies across vast environments with great distances between them. Combined, the three formed a cohesive unit that had yet to be bested in the art of war.
The three continued to wait, the battle cries of the Zealots around them penetrating the walls of the Shard and filling the vessel's passengers with energy.
Krarolk has not been deployed into the battlefield yet. He is in a landing craft that is currently docked to a carrier, and it will be released in his next post.
Sethrak awaited deployment in one of several Bryn transports. Today was yet another chance to prove himself to the Bryn'adul. There would be plenty of people to kill-to save-from themselves. There were many defenders on the planet below....so many to be saved from their weakness. If it weren't the Bryn'adul, these defenders would still die eventually. But they would die weak, pathetic, perhaps enslaved by another sentiment species. They should rejoice that the Bryn were here to deliver them swift deaths and a chance to prove themselves before it.
As for the children, Sethrak almost felt sorry for them. However, that was blasphemy. WeaklingSethrak scolded himself. The children didn't count. They were being saved from a whole life of weakness. If anything, they were more blessed than the adults, because the adults had already suffered weakness for a long time. At least that's how Sethrak viewed things.
The defenders themselves were a mixed force: Jedi, Troopers, Static defenses, and several other tools and fighters. It'd be a good test of Sethrak's abilities. He had fought force-users before on Clantaano , and won, but perhaps they weren't trained the way these forces were? There was a sense of fear in the Warlock at the thought. He suppressed it, again scolding himself. He showed too much weakness. No fear, no mercy...killing them was mercy. To spare anyone would be to lower himself to their level.
The final thing for the Warlock to review was his objective. There was a shield generator, and he was to escort a Distorter to destroy the shield which protected the capitol of Yurb. He wouldn't be alone, but it was sure to be a primary target for the defenders. Once it was destroyed, they would have no rally point. No last defense. They would face Bryn'Adul from all directions, including above them, at full speed.
Sethrak was ready. Mind cleared, equipment with him, all he needed to do now was wait for the signal. Then it would be time to show mercy.
Stood before a restless crowd of Warlocks, Hrajlmak unconsciously probed a particularly exposed tendon on his immolated right hand. On the fringes of the Yurbian system, the Great Conquest was finally knocking on the door of the Jedi. Those great and revered warriors Hrajlmak had scarcely the fortune to meet on the field. Though what remained of his hand served as a stark reminder to their prowess. Voices bubbled among the many heads stood before him, bringing his attention back to the present.
"Many years have past and many world's have suffered the consequence of weakness" he began to his warrior-shamans. "Nadiem, Garn, Groth, Sriluur, Kesh. Many more of their like. All so different, all very much the same." He listed worlds in his mother tongue that were all now rendered nothing but uninhabitable cogs in the Bryn'adul's war-machine. Each having become factory worlds churning out the war-beasts and drone fodder. "And yet regardless of how many of these fringe planets, these backwater dregs of the Galaxy WE cleanse". His voice rose, the energy in the chamber rising, "All inconsequential to today and what follows! Here we stand on the edges of the empires of this galaxy, our resolve never stronger, our will undeterred. One system of countless will serve as the incision to a tumor allowed to grow far too big. Too rapacious in its devouring of this galaxy that it has rendered its host impossibly weak. And so it is that we are here! To annihilate this repulsive growth, no matter how convoluted and large it has become, for the good of the galaxy. For it is the will of the Chieftain and the way of the Draelvasier, that we would remove what parasites who's purpose it is to breed weakness, and replace their pathetic existence with that of Strength. And all other tenets we hold dear!"
The crowd roared with seething vigour.
"We stand here today for Apathy!" The crowd roared the word back at Hrajlmak, "For Balance!" the second Tenet echoed back, "For Accountability!" The word doubled back tenfold, "We remember our Weaknesses!" The fourth Tenet, a humbling one, returned to Hrajlmak with one hundred times the strength, "We exert our Strength!" The fifth, shouted back from the depths of all present, "We come to hone our beings in Battle!" Warlocks, each bred for intellect and tailored for war, roared the Tenet back, "We come here..." Hrajlmak roared at the top of his lungs, "to deliver the will of Khaeus, under our blood and our banner, UNITED!" UNITY shot back at Hrajlmak with enough telepathic energy to give him pause in his thoughts.
"Go forth, Warlocks of the Bryn'adul! Enhance your brethren, command your beasts, and wipe from the face of this universe anything that would deny the Chieftain's will!"
Hrajlmak roared, his Warlocks drowned his voice with their own. The crowd dispersed throughout the Carrier and other's in space nearby. Each Warlock joining the ranks of the various armies present, from the renowned 10th Regiment to the battalions of Drones led by the newly-formed Risen. Hrajlmak himself remained where he was, tuning his mind in to the tens of thousands present, content to wait for the later siege on Edsert.
Second Wave Fleet: Two Phedrak Carriers | [Ground Unit control switching to Tathra Khaeus/Galak/Primarch Drek'ma]
FIRST WAVE
The Divine was quickly mimicked by the Conquesters and Butcher ships as each launched their Phedrak fighters, a swarm of seven-hundred and sixty of the small fighters sprung out from the confines of the seven vessels; splitting into four attack groups of one-hundred and ninety fighters. One group darted to meet the Deathseed and Y-TIE squadrons, the others holding back as the Gun-Boats; instead the Ra'mak groups would begin to spread forward as they would divide into groupings of twenty-eight, using their collective ability to create tri-beams to sustain large conductive beams, aimed to strike the Zephyr-class Droid Starfighters as they attempted to intercept their gunboats.
They were bold and eager for combat. It had been the wise choice to remain outside of the range of the Glasser Station, it had considerable firepower. Their vessels had remained outside of the reach of the orbital defence station and subsequently so did the ships behind it. It had been a fools errand to ignore the powering of their Main Batteries; whilst the Storm-bringer dared to draw closer to the Bryn'adûl fleet it also brought itself within the maw of their terribly destructive power.
"Fire the main batteries!"
The Bryn'adûl fleet moved forward into mutual weapons range of the Glasser Station and the Storm-Bringer and its accompanying vessels, their Butchers firing their massive coursing beams of orange plasmatic energy directly at the Station. At the same time the Conquesters would begin to open fire with their array of Ballista's firing at the Arquitens. Joining their elder vessel, the Divine Brutality as it unleashed its exceptionally powerful main battery directly at the centre of the Storm-Bringer, a continuous violent red beam capable of removing a Battle Cruiser from the battlefield in one fell swoop. Soon, these vessels would be crushed.
SECOND WAVE
Seeming ignored by their enemy, the Bryn'adûl's second wave fleet began the descent of its ground forces. The Heldrak Dropships would move to land behind the initial drop-zone intended to be established by the Brute Gunboats, behind them the Nimscall Pods would follow their descent.
The M'gaelak Siege Towers, wrapped in their nigh-indestructible cocoons would land be dropped from the innards of the Carriers, aimed to land individually, three to land at the front of the city shield whilst the three others would land opposite the Shield Outpost. No doubt, with such massive creatures of mega-ton weights creatures of multi-megaton weights crashing into the ground from orbit, their cocooned forms would cause massive ripples of earth and sand to kick up into the air; the Heldrak Dropships causing similar effects as they struck the surface.
Dispersal Pods would be given the green light to launch; alongside Multitudes of Hive Bombers aimed to enter the city directly. No doubt the Primarch and Chieftain intended to use the darkness to their advantage. These Dispersal Pods would land in-between the other larger vessels wherever they could find space.
She spotted the enemy troop carriers beginning their descent. It was inevitable. The orbiting fleet and the stations would prove a significant deterrent, but it was possible for the enemy to send in smaller crzft and have them get past the fighters that were tied up with Bryn fighters. It meant the ground battle was about to begin, which meant the freakshow was starting. Fortunately she was prepared for that in more ways than one. Nothing the Bryn had would surprise her.
""All Sensenmann units target the dropships with your main guns," she called out.
The four spider-like droids moved forward a bit. Each carried its own shielding system and arc reactors. Even Bryn tech draining capabilities would be hard pressed to take on her droids. Arc reactors produce significant amounts of energy, well beyond what is needed to keep a droid running. She had anticipated similar problems when they were designing the droids. Granted she hadn't expected it to be an organic entity creating the problem but it didn't matter. They could only take so much.
The droids main guns, heavy megamasers, began to fire at the ships descending towards the planet even before they entered the atmosphere. The benefits of her design for these heavy artillery and troop transport droids was that they acted like mobile planetary weapons emplacements. They could be utilized to supplement fixed installations and could also turn their weapons on enemy vessels as well. Most vehicles were not equipped tk take fire from a capital-class weapons system after all.
"When they land we will draw them in battles that favor our positioning," she called to her Moonwrought companions via comlink. "I bid you all good luck. Beta will come with me and Omega will stay at the facility to defend against any big creatures that get close."
Beta, one of the Monsterjagers, made its way over to stand behind the Sensenmann shr currently stood atop of. Her droids were going to significantly increase their potential to hold the facility, but it was going to be a hard scrape regardless. She fully intended to take the fight to the enemy once they landed. There would be no holding back in this fight. It was all or nothing. Slaughter the horde so they couldn't slaughter anyone else. Justice would be done.
She did briefly look back towards the Rangers, spotting Beltran among them.
"Good luck, soldier. Force be with you. Take down as many as you can."
As the Brute Gunboats prepared for their drop, a traditional Baedurin haka was performed with Galak
taking the lead. Osam had witnessed the brutish festivities before battles before, though he was typically separated and among fellow drones when they would occur. This was the first time that he had seen one quite so close, and the force with which his kin struck themselves and performed their battle cries was enough to rattle his insides. Were it not a tenant to feel nothing for the enemy, he might've allowed a fledgling thought of sympathy to befall them for having to face such monsters in close combat. Instead, he felt secure in the knowledge of their victory.
The outstretched hand directed towards him, and the honor bestowed upon the first of the Risen-Sraelvun was something unexpected. He found himself staring, awe-struck at the Emissary before reacting in kind, accepting the gesture as best he knew how. He would not allow such a glorious statement to be tarred with a poor performance in the coming battle. He would make it known why his kith had been elevated to their position, and why he had hunted at their forefront.
A further speech by the Titan himself did wonders to further rouse the troops to greater heights of morale and fervor, and the touch of unseen Seers upon their minds helped to amplify these sensations. Bloodlust at its finest was spread throughout the Draelvasier, between Baedurin and Aeravalin and Sraelvun alike, each one feeling the draw to make their progenitor proud, and to wipe weakness from the wretched world below.
Finally, the gunboats were off, striking through the air with intense resistance as further issues arose. It seemed the enemy had sent starfighters at their tail, which now trailed them like starving dogs, nipping at the heels of the Baedurin and their Srael companions all the way down towards the surface. Six squadrons of sixteen gunboats had fallen from their motherships, each one firing and swiveling and turning as they flew, each one filled to the brim with thirty Brutes or Sraelvun drones and their Risen-Srael Majors.
There were deafening crashes and hideous detonations as a few of these dropships were mutilated by the starfighters, and more met the ears of the Major as ground-based defenses and machinery began to fire upon them. Quick as they were, and numerous, it was only a matter of time before casualties were announced among the bestial transports, each one signifying the death of dozens. Some, perhaps, had simply crash-landed and would continue the fight elsewhere... but others had disintegrated under arrays of enemy fire.
Were the vessels to approach the outpost, they might've faced greater casualties still. Nevertheless, the Emissary's strategy was a simple and effective one. Without pause, the gunboats maneuvered past the shield outpost, settling upon sectors as close to its reach as they could, but directly opposite of the defenses of their enemy. Perhaps their foes had not realized the implications of the beast which they would bring to bear against them, or perhaps they had not cared, choosing to waste their time fortifying a position that would be avoided as if though it were detritus and refuse.
There was a spray of plasma-fire from the gunboats as they prepared to land, clearing out any resistance that might've been near them before touching down, and releasing their contingents upon the surface of Yurb. Troops dispersed from these vessels, with each surviving vessel carrying a Quilxyn Protector.
Tactical Summary:
Six squadrons of sixteen Brute Gunboats (96) launch towards the surface of Yurb.
The Brute Gunboats suffer casualties to droid starfighters, and ground-based defenses (15 Gunboats)
The Brute Gunboats land in sectors E-3, D-3, C-3 just outside of the shield, and opposite of the outpost.
A total of two-thousand four-hundred and thirty warriors (2430) have landed, comprising 700 Sraelvun and 1730 Brutes (With 70 of the Sraelvun being Risen Majors)
That much was obvious. The fear that permeated throughout the air and sent tremors through the force could be felt by anyone with the connection. And there was little reason for them not to be. They had known this threat was coming for a while now, so even though there had been time to prepare, the time finally arriving, the threat becoming real, was plenty to make the civilians of this planet allow their feelings to betray them. If Malvec was honest, he could feel a sense of fear rising within him as well. Every so often, in between ushering another terrified family out of their ancestral home and toward the spaceport, the Nautolan needed to step to the side and allow the force to calm his mind in this troubling time.
Emotion, yet peace.
Ignorance, yet knowledge.
Passion, yet serenity.
Chaos, yet harmony.
Death, yet the Force.
A satisfied sigh left his lips, while he felt as though the calming and warm nature of the force pushed back the feelings of emotional fear. Only clear minds would see the Jedi and their allies through this day. Emotions would only cloud decision making, forcing those in command to make decisions not based on the will of the force. It could only serve to lead them down the wrong path. Today was in the force’s hands, and in it, these people would be delivered unto safety.
Thankfully, things were seemingly going as well as they could be seen. Jedi were spread throughout the city, Malvec among them, making sure any of the last remnants of the civilian population made it out safe. His current objective, a small apartment building near the edge of the protected dome area, was practically completely evacuated at this point. His blackish brown eyes gave one last look over the outdoor courtyard, eventually settling on what seemed like a young male, looking around with tear filled eyes. That wasn’t a good thing to see.
Hopping down from his perch on top of one of the flats, boots hitting the ground with a solid thump, his headtails swung lightly back and forth while he approached the young boy. Flashing him a smile, hoping to quell some of his waterworks, Malvec moved to make sure he and the child were on the same eyelevel. There was fear coming from every bit of this poor thing. Before he was able to move him, find out exactly what was wrong, it would be best to find some way to calm him. That being said, time wasn’t exactly something either of them had a lot of.
Instead, calming his own mind first, the Knight reached out to the childs, attempting to sooth the fearful emotions running throughout him. Slowly, but surely, the childs sniffles and tears began to soften. Once the child seemed calmed enough, Malvec reached down to scoop him up in his arms, flashing him another wide smile as he adjusted him in his arms. “Let’s get you back to your family, aye?” A small nod was the only response the jedi received back. Hopefully once the kid saw his family he’d peep up, as he wasn’t exactly confident in his ability in the force to sense that connection.
Regardless, he surged forward into the city. There would be others to help, and perhaps he’d be able to link up with some of the other jedi on the ground. Most importantly, this kid’s family was out there somewhere, and Malvec would be damned if they weren’t reunited by the days end.
OBJECTIVE: INSURGENT
LOCATION: STRIKER SHARD, MAKING LANDFALL AT COORDINATES C4
EQUIPMENT: IN SIGNATURE
BYRN IN VICINITY: Galak
| Osam
| Kyrim Tenebris
INTENT TO ENGAGE: Beltran Rarr
| Open to engage up to 3 others.
With a series of loud thumps, multiple Shards were ejected from the Phedak Carrier.
In one of them was a certain Zealot Elite trio. Krarolk piloted the vessel while the other two Zealots remained seated in the rear quarters, bracing their bodies against the organic walls. He immediately drove the Shard into a sharp dive, descending at roughly a 50 degree angle. With its incredible speed, it was not a challenge for the Shard to evade enemy flak and starfighters, the vessel's velocity making it nearly impossible to track. As it broke through a mid-level cloud layer, the city came into view. It was a metropolis, filled with vermin and electronic rubbish. Once the shield surrounding it had been brought down, the Zealots swore to personally partake in the destruction of the wretched city. For the sake of their Crusade, they would not falter. They would keep kicking until their legs had been removed, and they would keep punching until their arms had been removed. Their willpower and their experience would give them all the fuel they needed.
Krarolk brought the Shard into a wide arc to the left to slow it down, reducing its diving angle to roughly 20 degrees in the process. Still, the Shard remained over three kilometers above the ground. The Zealot continued to turn the Shard to the left, peeling away from the city and in the direction of the dropships descending down from other Phedak Carriers. Seeing a Siege Tower drop down nearby, Krarolk decided to angle the Shard to land adjacent to it and support the powerful siege unit. He deepened his dive once again, arcing to the right to maintain an even horizontal position. Now, the Shard was less than a kilometer from the ground and rapidly closing in on a sandy field nearby.
Roughly three hundred meters away from the ground, Krarolk leveled out the Shard and disabled its engines, turning it into a high-performance glider. Seconds later, gravity finished the Zealot's job, bringing the shuttle meters away from a sand dune. All three Zealots were tossed backwards as the Shard smashed into the dune, sand already unsettled by the M'gaelakk Tower bursting into the air in all directions. The dune served as an effective cushion, greatly slowing down the nimble Shard without causing any significant damage. After just twenty-three seconds, the Shard's momentum had completely halted. This time, the trio was prepared for the sudden shaking of the Shard, and held on to the walls as it tipped backwards into a neutral position.
As Krarolk departed his pilot's seat, the other two Zealot Elites kicked down the Shard's landing doors, revealing a vast sandy plain with hills scattered throughout. Despite the scorching heat, the three Elites exited their Shard unfazed. Nothing would stand in their path.
In the shadow of the M'gaelakk Siege Tower, the Zealot trio began their trek towards Edsert.
Grenades/Ordinance: Cryo-ban Grenades, Incendiary Grenades, Spare Magazines and cartridges
Specialist Paxton Reece strode through the Outpost, taking a drag on his deathstick as he did so. He experienced a familiar head rush as the narcotic filled his bloodstream and he exhaled slowly. He'd tried to stay off the sticks, he really had. His promise to Lieutenant Rarr had been made in good faith, but then the Lieutenant disappeared.
He'd gone with the El-Tee to Lorrd, to confront that bounty hunter dude from his past, or something...The Lieutenant wasn't exactly good with divulging personal details. But as soon as they'd returned, he'd just vanished in a puff of smoke. No wait...maybe not smoke. Smoke was more his thing, not the El Tee's. But yeah, he'd just disappeared. Gone on leave or some poodoo.
Sarge had done a good job leading Icarus in his absence. Kept everybody alive and all that, but Reece couldn't help feeling abandoned. And then, just like that, the El-Tee was back. With a Lightsaber and some new magic bull-fodder powers or some schutta and now they were staring down a horde of insane...whatever's, intent on slaughtering them all.
It was a lot to process, and he didn't really want to.
Hence the death sticks.
It hadn't been all that hard to step away. The Lieutenant and the Sarge were busy on the walls, making sure all the boys and girls from the 666th were ready to fight. Of course the Icarus operators were good to go, they lived for this poodoo, so nobody would be checking on him. Hopefully.
Leaning up against the backside of one of the Basta APC's that were parked in the Outpost's motorcade area, he took another drag.
"Oh yeah..." He murmured to himself. "That's what daddy likes."
It was at this point that he heard a shuffling of feet and realized he wasn't alone. Looking up, he saw a small group of Rangers...at least he thought they were Rangers rounding the corner of the vehicle. They were wearing patchwork pieces of armor, some components from the Mk. II Series most Rangers now wore, and some from the even earlier KP1 series. They were armed with the old Assault Rippers and not the newly issued Predator Assault Rifles. In short, they looked like one hell of a motley crew.
"Damn, don't you guys look a mess." His words were statement, and not a particularly kind one. "Where did Command dig you guys up?"
Their leader, a burly man wearing Corporal's stripes spoke up. "Danuta," He said, his glower making it obvious that if Reece wanted a fight he was more than willing to give him one. "Corporal Javos, Free Danutan Volunteers. We were here on liaison duty with the Lervons when all this went down. I guess Command thought we'd be best utilized guarding the motor pool."
Reece was about to speak again when the Corporal went on. "Oh, and that'll be the last time you insult me or my boys. I don't care that you're some fancy 5th group operator," He said motioning to the unit patch on Reece's shoulder. "I'll knock your teeth all the way down into your rectum."
Reece could tell that the man meant it and he was just about to show him the error of his thinking when another voice called out from beyond the APC.
"Yo. We got civilians outside the gates. I'm movin' my cav unit out to go get them, I know ya'll were tasked to work with my unit, but we're movin' out. Ride with us or stay behind."
Turning from the Corporal, Reece made his way around to find a being wearing Mandalorian armor speaking. He was surrounded by a number of CIS Commandos who appeared to be getting ready to ride out on a bunch of speeder bikes.
"That's karkin' cool." Reece muttered to himself before turning to the Corporal. "What do you say, Javos. Want to break some rules?"
The larger man held his gaze and then nodded, making the decision in that instant. "You're fethin' right, I do."
"Alright sexy!" Reece called across the way. "We're with you." The Danutan Rangers didn't need to be told twice as they moved to the three Basta's parked next to them. Reece took the turret in one of them while Javos jumped into the driver's seat. Within a few moments, all three APC's were manned and ready to follow the Mando and his troops.
He took one last drag on his death stick, finishing out the remainder of the narcotic and spitting the butt onto the ground. With a loud bellow he spoke: "Let's fethin' ride!"
***
Beltran Rarr stood on the walls of the Outpost, looking out. As he watched, powerful anti-aircraft fire was being launched against the enemy dropships which were, even now, making entry into Yerb's atmosphere. Nearby, the Jedi Master Niamh Raste called over to him.
"Good luck, soldier. Force be with you. Take down as many as you can."
With a curt nod, he replied. "I intend to, Master Raste." He said respectfully. "And good luck to you as well."
He returned his gaze to the dropships, some of whom were now flaming piles of atoms and others, too many others, who were making planet-fall in the distance. Unexpectedly, his comlink sounded.
"Uhh boss, this probably isn't the right time or whatever... But I'm taking a few of the reserve boys out with the CIS to rescue some civvies. Don't bother yelling at me, it's already a done deal. I'll take whatever's coming to me after I get back. And...sorry."
Beltran blinked as Reece cut the transmission before he had a chance to respond. Without thinking, he keyed a transmission back to the Specialist and spoke only a few words. "Acknowledged, Reece. Give them hell. Icarus-One out."
He then keyed a transmission to Captain Hague in CIC. "Captain, we have a detachment leaving the motorcade area to rescue some civilians, it is imperative that they are allowed to exit the Outpost while that is still a viable option. I'll take responsibility if the op goes sideways."
He only had to wait two beats before she responded. "Understood, Rarr. Letting them out now."
With that handled, he looked out onto the horizon. Soon the Bryn'adul would be here.
Soon there would be blood.
Maul Company and Icarus Platoon ready for the onslaught
Paxton Reece and a small number of Ranger reserve join Haastal Haran
on his mission to rescue civilians
Equipment: In Bio Location: Landing Zone Objective: Take the Fight to the Bryn Allies: Silver Jedi and Allies Enemies: Bryn
For Kaia, a combat landing was a relatively new concept. She knew how to fight, sure, and she assisted the OPA in a few conflicts, but those were border skirmishes, or fighting the Mandalorians, not her deploying with a bit of the Silver Jedi Rangers and hoping she’d see some OPA Irregulars on the ground. She grabbed hold of her crash webbing as they entered atmosphere. Her headset was picking up many of the Jedi channels and she was hearing what she needed to. As the ship landed, she was following what the commander she jumped in with’s tasks, and as a Jedi, that opened a few avenues for her. She wasn’t sure about these Bryn but she kept her lightsaber in her hand, albeit dark.
She was waiting for someone who needed a hand. She was a Starchaser, sure, but unlike her father, she wasn’t the biggest gun on the field, but she didn’t have an issue with fighting. She was just an opportunist, and from what report she was able to gather of the Bryn, she wasn’t supposed to be fighting these things on her own. The Starchaser had no trouble identifying her own shortcomings. But what she was identifying first, something she was really good at finding, people in trouble. And on a planet being the next in line for an assault, there were no troubles finding that.
The Warden was feeling strong personalities out there, PPlaceholder 0128
, Ryv
, Caedyn Arenais, someone who was more familiar but she couldn’t place it… and all the sand beings around. She hated that she didn’t know what they were called, but it didn’t matter, they needed to be saved. “This is Starchaser, how are we doing out there, anyone need some back up?” There were too many minds to comb through, and she was sick of hunting down targets.
At the same time as Starchaser was touching down in her shuttle, General Borac was receiving a briefing from his aids. He desperately wanted to have them transform Autobot City and radio Optimus Prime for reinforcements, but alas, he was not ready to do that. And they didn’t have an Autobot City. But he was going to radio out to Commenor for reinforcements. Might as well get that started.
In a growling voice, he ordered one of the protocol droids to radio Commenor, to expect refugees and to see if they can provide back up. As he ordered that, he turned back to the battle plan. They had a select number of Silver Jedi and Levron forces here, but importantly, there was a detachment of CIS arms making their presence as well.
Another command came from the General, this one directed to one of the aids and sent over the comms with a sense of urgency. “Confederacy, we are grateful for your assistance. General Borac is giving the order to open fire when ready. Defend our shields. For smaller units, punch a hole in their advance.” The Human Lieutenant’s voice was firm, and grateful, but he was nervous that the strike would cause many issues for the Silver Jedi.
Reshmar looked at the image of the Glasser station as Salacia and her three sisters moved into position above the world of Yurb. The newly commissioned Battlecarriers were the newest capital vessels developed by The Directorate. The fifteen hundred meter long vessels were the culmination of a decade long project initiated by Reshmar and Gir to create a stand-alone carrier able to engage any target in its class and hold its own. The first four of the vessels of the class had been launched from the Rothana yards just a month earlier and all four had performed well on their break-in period testing. The Directorate had seen better days, and the loss of the Dac yards and Hast had taken a toll on the organization. Its strong ties to the Silver Fleet had been a saving grace for the Directorate and Reshmar had continued his service to the SIlver Jedi leading the 3rd fleet from its Manaan headquarters when he was not busy dealing with the problems associated with taking control of the orbital yards at Rothana and Moff Greths ex-imperial criminals still out to retake the facility. It had been a tough few months for the DIrectorate and Reshmar had decided to personally deliver two of the new vessels to the Silver Fleet.
“Admiral, we have taken up position in orbit and await your order,” said a man standing across the halo table from Reshmar. Reshmar rolled an eye and nodded at the man as he looked at the holographic display of the system. The stations were positioned for maximum fire angles above the world. His friend and colleague Gir Quee had a battlegroup in the system including his new flagship the Emerald Undertow. Reshmar had seen the design plans for the vessel and once saw her hull being laid at a slipway, but this was the first time he had seen her in completion. He would have to complement Gir on her when they met later today.
The four Concordia class ships lined up in a defensive formation above the world as per their standard operations orders. Around them, the small flotilla of vessels formed up between the Concordia's and the world of Yurb.
“Admiral, will you be needing an escort for this evening meeting?” asked Reshmars assistant Joret. The man had been with Reshmar for a year now and had proven an invaluable aid for the aging Mon Calamari Admiral.
“ No Joret, I will be fine. It is just Gir and a few members of the Silver Fleet. I think I will not need bodyguards for this meeting,” he said as he chuckled and rolled both eyes humorously. “I think you will be the only member of my retinue that is required tonight,” said Reshmar as he turned to walk away from the central hologram table. The command and control center of the vessel was located deep inside the hull in a secondary armored section which housed all the command and control room, command quarters for all the senior staff, the Combat Information Center, and the network security center. The rear of the large room housed a pair of lifts that went up to the bridge above and the weapons control room below. At the center of the command and control room was a single chair in which Reshmar now walked to and took a sear. From here he could see the hologram table and all of the command rooms monitors. He could bring up secondary hologram displays equipped to the seat and relax when needed. The command chair was a standard feature on the new Battle Carriers and Reshmat appreciated them. His body was not what it once was. Age was creeping up on him. He had been serving on a ship for over forty standard years now. It has been a long amazing journey and he would never trade it for anything.
“SIr, new contact bearing two seven four. IFF can not identify them sire, No transponder information available.” said a sensor officer. Reshmar looked at the display now zooming in to show what it was that had entered the system. At least three very large vessel’s had just arrived accompanied by too many smaller craft and vessels to identify at this range. Reshmar looked at the magnified images and knew immediately who and what they were.
“Set condition red fleet-wide Captain. Have all personnel report to action stations, lock down all firebreaks and have damage control parties report to their primary ready stations, And get the Cag up here,” barked Reshmar. He buckled the restraints on the chair and pressed a button lifting it up into the air as it took him a meter off the ground into a position where he could see everything around him better.
Crews scrambled to prepare for battle, Flight crews moved attack craft into position, Ordnance techs loaded the hundreds of fighter’s bomber’s and gunship’s with missiles, torpedoes, and mass rounds. Gun Crews did last-minute checks on their targeting and tracking systems. Damage control parties prepared their retardant systems and readied to deploy where needed. Pilots had their last-minute orders in their ready rooms and prepared for the fight to come.
Colonel Steele walked into the room from one of the lifts and took up a position at the aviation control panel. “Reporting as ordered Admiral,” said the man as he began looking over the situation. “Starboard launch tubes are loaded and green, Port tubes have fifty seconds until launch-ready” reports the ship's Attack Group Commander. Steele had been a decorate Imperial fighter ace before he got tied in with Joran Greth and his band of idiots. He had jumped at the opportunity to join the Directorate carrier research team when the opportunity was presented to him. He saw the downfall of Greth and his Imperium long before most and got out while the getting was good. He had a large part to play in the design of the launch tube system on the Concordias and assisted in the overall design of the hanger pods. He knew more about the attack wing capabilities of the vessels than anyone and was a shoe-in when the position of CAG came open.
Reshmar nodded to the man as he reported the status of the attack wing then spoke. “Launch all craft Colonel” ordered Reshmar as he turned his attention to a new set of contacts on the holographic display.
“Tactical, Target that formation of smaller vessels moving towards the planet. Have all defensive formations move to intercept and have all defensive gun crews concentrate fire on them” said Reshmar as he watched the smaller group of craft moving towards the planet's surface.
“Have each aura team lock onto one of that craft and grab them,” ordered Reshmar as he considered how to deal with the ships moving towards the world below. As he thought about his next orders the crews of his ships went to work carrying out his orders. Twenty four attack craft launched from each battlecarrier forming up and moving to intercept the forces of the group moving towards the planet. Around them, the gunners of the ships opened fire on the craft utilizing their advanced targeting and tracking systems to identify their allied craft and create solutions around them. The twelve pickets formed up into groups of three and sped off to intercept the wave of ships attempting to make planetfall. As the forces of the 3rd fleet moved to intercept, the massive Aura-class Tractor/Pressor Beam Projectors of the vessels came online and reached out to grab the enemy ships making a break for the world below.
Reshmar watched as the forces of the 3rd fleet swept out to capture and destroy the enemy vessels. Each playing a role in the orchestra of defense which the Concordia-class ships were designed for.
Location: Yurb Atmosphere Objective: Blow up enemy starfighters Allies: SJO and Allies (Kimiko Taiyou Enemies: Byrn'adul
-----------------------------------------------
“Everyone break off!”
I could hear more yelling over the comms. Once we excited hyperspace heavy fire rained down on us. I watched as everyone flew in separate directions, trying to avoid the bolts of energy. Unfortunately, some ships did not make it.
Bryn’adul ships were heading directly toward us. Locking my S-Foils in kick-ass position I engaged them. Opening my comms, I gave off another war cry.
“Give ‘em hell!”
In a beautiful motion, all of our ships fired at once. It was a rainbow of color...and metal. Bryn’adul ships were being blown up left and right, but some of our ships were as well. The starfighters disengaged, fighting the smaller craft, while the large ships began flying toward the capitals of the Byrn’adul.
More and more sparks flew. Flying directly behind an enemy ship, I fired. The explosion shot the craft’s piece flying away in opposite directions while I flew cleanly through. But that was only one. We had a lot ore to go.
(OOC: I would love to see a lot of dogfighting/space battles happening in this. A lot of the battle can be won and lost up here.)
The Bryn'adul's little maneuver would not go unnoticed. Hope was sitting in orbit above the planet just behind the SJO Allied fleet. She hadn't fired a shot yet, but all of her F-4 Dragons had been scrambled. Red, Gold, and Black Squadrons were awaiting orders to begin their attack runs, having been outfitted for Close Air Support, as had their War Hound Drop ships that were dirt side been put into fangs out configuration. Crews aboard Hope would note the enemy had deployed on the far side away from the shield generator, and while they thought the move suspicious, Sergei hadn't authorized them to fire on the planet with their weapons, yet.
Sergei meanwhile had also noticed the maneuver from where he was standing, and didn't think much of it. In order to actually bring down the shield, he'd been told they'd have to actually destroy or disable the thing behind him. And while he'd seen plenty of scary tech come from Freebirds Industries, many of which he'd actually gotten for his 'Wolves, he had yet to see something that would give him pause just yet. And he'd been on the ground for Atrisia, he'd seen the Sith Cults on Byss, and fought monsters that most would consider outlandish even by galactic standards. He'd seen things after being raised on a world so hostile, unforgiving, and backwater that most of the galaxy looked like a technological paradise comparatively. He'd trained his body to be one thing, and one thing only.
A weapon of war.
He'd had to fight since he was barely of age. He'd had to struggle just to survive, let alone win, and throughout his life, he'd seen many a hell that would break most men. He'd lost everything. He'd been on the verge of death. And yet here he stood, fighting shoulder to shoulder with these space wizards, some calling themselves Jedi, others Sith, but many just saying they can tap into this thing called the Force. Sergei had no such gifts. No such abilities or talents. He was just a man, with a rifle, some ammunition, and the grit to see the mission through. His armor was now much fancier, having many gadgets and gizmos that he considered foreign if not entirely beyond his comprehension. Like the artificial muscle that powered his suit, the power core that gave the whole thing life, the many pieces of data and information being sent to his face shield. He understood none of it, just that it worked, and that with it, it made him stronger, able to do more, and save more lives. Because that's what it meant to be a soldier. To save lives. It mattered not what flag you served under, it didn't change anything what side you fought for. A real soldier, fights to protect what is behind him, and sacrifices so others do not. Sergei understood the tactics of war, the tenets taught to him from his very first days in boot camp. That the best defense for the infantry was to dig in, like a tick, and force the enemy to dig you out. The enemy had a massive force coming at them. Sergei's men numbered only a little over two hundred. The Antarian Rangers had sent more to back him up, another two hundredish, that made four. And behind that the Mandalorian, Shuklaar Kyrdol
had seen fit to deploy another two battalions to back up their position. So maybe, at best, a thousand men.
If the enemy would come, which Hope was streaming to him that they were indeed coming and in great numbers, they would find this no easy fight. Outnumbered more than likely, outgunned possibly, Sergei was betting by more than a five to one margin in total against their combined forces. The only advantage Sergei had, was that he had a shield covering his head, and time to prepare his defenses. The trenches they had dug would give his men a fighting chance. Give them all, a fighting chance. Sergei knew that the moment they got to the trenches this would get bloody for his men. Extremely bloody. That the Bryn' had even bothered avoiding his position gave him hope though. They weren't stupid. They knew to charge a position such as his would be costly. That he'd extract from them all a toll of blood and bodies before letting them have this place. He walked along the trenches, from the more well built final protective line outside of the walls, to the frontal first line trenches. Each of them a spiderweb springing out from the main outpost interconnecting and the closer to the outpost the more built up the trenches were. He'd force the Bryn to come at him with everything they had. And he'd make them pay for every inch.
Across the line, Sergei walked through passing by TDW forces, and all the others present with them. His black armor would almost shine as he passed by every position, each trooper, and quietly asked them how they were doing. What their ammo situation and water was. If they had any fears, any questions. It was something that an old commander had taught Sergei in years gone by, that the presence of a leader, a calming, guiding voice to disquiet any thoughts of doubt, and give them all some courage. Sergei walked with the confidence of many a battle fought and survived. He spoke with the quiet care of a father looking after sons and daughters. He listened intently and absorbed every word spoken to him. Where there might have been doubts, he offered assurance, and inspired men to look to their training. Where there might have been a trace of fear, he would remind soldiers that courage wasn't an absence of fear, but doing the right thing despite it. He kept each and every one of the people here committed to memory. They were about to be brothers in arms, comrades in a unified cause. A cause so great, that the Gods themselves would not see it denied this day.
The Bryn'adul would know defeat today. They would not taste innocent blood as they had before. The Silver Jedi Order, The Confederacy Defense Forces, Strill Securities and The Dire Wolves would not surrender. They would not retreat.
Location: Arriving in-system Objective: Figure out what to help with Allies: SJO and friends Enemies: Bryn'adul
The moment the Sakuran fleet dropped out of Hyperspace, the comm nets erupted with frantic traffic on all open channels. Comms crew were busy processing the incoming traffic and relaying up. Scanners showed a rapidly evolving situation, the invading fleet was deeply entrenched in close combat with the Silver defenders. It was absolute chaos. The situation on the ground was also exploding as enemy ground forces began their assault.
Chika bit her lip at the helm, thinking over the best course to take. She cursed herself for arriving late to the party, but even then, she had to do something. Her eyes read the latest SITREP from the allied nets and immediately began putting the best plan to thought. She stood and began speaking as fast as her mind figured it out,"All Sakuran vessels, begin establishing cordon around the planet. Maintain distance of oh point six light years, far enough to not get in the way, but close enough to respond if needed. Nothing and nobody comes in or goes out of this system. We will prepare to accept any fleeing refugees and detain any retreating hostiles." she paused, taking a breath,"Situation on the ground is just getting started. Launch all drop ships and vector the gunboats towards the surface for support. Get me boots on the ground now! All pilots are cleared for launch, priority is screening our forces, with secondary to providing support to ground forces."
The woman had all attention on her, Ki attributed it to her outstanding charisma and knack for leadership. She used this moment to dramatically retake her seat, sitting with her fingers interlaced beneath her chin, staring intently out the bridge view port. Her crimson eyes narrowed,"Let's get it done ladies and gentlemen, show the Galaxy the Sakuran Empire has arrived!" the bridge crew cheered before setting on their assigned tasking.
Her view of the planet began to shift as the AIN Nagato turned along with the rest of the fleet to take up their position on the edge of the battle.
The sandy Padawan turned to look at her friend, showing her the small pair of Lervon. She hoped that Amani didn't notice how her crystal structure didn't stop moving, but she knew it was probably for not. Most of her friends had become surprisingly good at telling how she feeling. Ok, not always surprising, but sometimes. The kids however were quick to answer.
"W-we... c-ca.... can't find...." It was pretty clear the young of the two hadn't fully learned basic, but the older one spoke up.
"We lost our parents. Our Mom and Aunt are twins if that helps." Ura look at Amani, trying to figure out if she needed to clear that one up or not. Probably best too.
"Lervon twins share a portion of there crystal mass, so two Lervon that are closer then normal." Amani then asked how she was doing. In all honestly Ura was nervous, scared, and generally freaked out by everything, but if there was any time to try and hide that it was when two kids were nearby. She closed her eyes, looking real quick before whispering to Amani. "I'm... as ok as a can be." Some worry and pain slipped out from her as she said this. Dang it! Why was she so horrible at that. It was then that Tarish's voice hit her structure. A storm. She looked up, eyes widening.
"Ok you two, we have to search and run!" She would quickly lead the young ones away as she heard another loud call from the Leraga. "A storm is one way to put it."
The large war droid let out a cry as it peered upward, and its head began to open, and the sound of charging began to rumble through the nearby region. Nothing was in range yet, or just too small, but the fact that the droid was preparing to fire was warning enough. General Borac ducked at the sound of the turbolaser charging. He looked over at the cities as fighters did an overhead flyby. The wookie then grabbed his comm and called out to everyone on the surface.
"All ground forces. They're on the way! Be ready for a fight, and may the Force be with you."
The dregs were pumping themselves up, incensed by the Titan’s speech, to be honest, she felt a little inspired to bloodlust herself, but she had things to do. Appearances to upkeep, she yawned on the floor, still lounging with her tail pressing against the floor and giving her balance so she wouldn’t end up on her back. There wasn’t much she could do about anything right now. The ship sounded like it was taking some light fire, but either managing to evade or being a little lucky.
That luck soon ran out, as the gunship seemed to have taken an especially bad shot, and began circling down (she assumed) toward the ground. She kept her hands clenched, keeping her steady on the ground, though she had to weight her options. She did notice a fairly large sized hole in the side of the ship, she didn’t really care about the chaff around her, so she decided to abandon ship. From what glimpses she had seen, the ground was getting closer and closer.
She checked her bearings, assumed a jumping position from the gorund, then bolted out of the hole. She was closer to the ground than she thought, and was able to land with (relative) safety. Perhaps she should have tried to deal with the space fortress, she was rather exposed here. The transport did manage to take her to the rest of the troops, however, as they began to land, while the one she was on crashed, though it didn’t seem as though it had erupted into a ball of flame, so some of the soldiers in there must’ve survived. They should consider her their good luck charm.
590 Brutes & 250 Drones deployed at D-3
570 Brutes & 225 Drones deployed at C-3
570 Brutes & 225 Drones deployed at E-3
- All forces of varying ranks deployed with
Maulers in additional to standard loadout [found in NPC subs]
As expected, their arrival was contested in orbit and on the ground, but luckily for the forces deploying from the Brute Gunboats the majority of their focus was on the Heldrak Dropships and the Siege platforms coming behind them. When the Gunboats made it to their designated landing zones, Galak could feel his heart thumping in his chest, standing adjacent to Sam as the mix of Brutes and Drones readied behind them. As their bay doors opened, readying their turrets, the exterior of the Gunboats glimmered with light as each released rippling cords of molten-hot plasma from their plasma-throwers, clearing whatever might've been directly underneath them, even from here Galak could feel the searing heat. His blood froze in his veins, waiting anxiously until the plasma had cleared for their forces to deploy.
But they weren't alone, Galak received communications from the Brute Captains overseeing their forces, the entirety of their deployment seemed to be clear bar the nearby outpost. It occupied by some type of Mandalorian troops, judging by the armour configurations.
"Gunboats, keep them inside!" The Emissary snarled, his Brute forces forming up around him as the Quilxyn Protectors floated low just behind them; its mind stretching out to them as every set of boots that touched Yurb's soil was sealed within the protective shielding of the Protectors. Three of the overhead gunboats turned their attention to the outpost, the two gunners on each Gunboat facing toward the outpost opened fire with their Spike Turrets; the intent to encourage those inside to stay inside.
"Bring out the Shield Killer!" Aside from the handful of troops deployed to the outpost, their Landing Zone was clear. They were wasting time standing around, the longer they took the longer the Chieftain and the others would have to sustain combat against the enemy defences at the outpost. Galak's head wasn't with him, that primal part of him longed to fight alongside his brethren in the 10th Regiment. Instead, he played war-master to other Brutes. They were the same, but different. He hoped Pavium and Tarask made it through the incoming battle, if they didn't he knew he'd blame himself.
The elector-magnetic pulse creature was a large, ugly beast. But at the very least it would get the job done. Galak's squad alongside a portion of the Drones lead by Risen Osam formed a oval shaped defence line around the creature as the rest of their forces began the trek towards the Shield wall.
"We get this thing inside the Shield wall, and it'll kill that Generator and drop the Shield quicker than you can list off the Tenabraks. Forward Brutes! Fear not pain nor death!" The Brute's began their slow push alongside the Drones toward the Shield wall and beyond that Edsert, from this distance it was only a few hundred metres but something in the Brutes gut told him it was going to be a long hundred.
Location: Low orbit above Yurb Objective: Awaiting Deployment Allies: SJO and Friends Opposition: Bryn With:Charlie Nooran Directly Engaging:Tathra Khaeus
& whoever is with him.
Much of the Antarian Ranger units sent to Yurb had already deployed, but Sigrid remained in orbit with her battalion and the Jedi attached to her. They had one special mission.
To topple a titan.
When you looked upon the Valkyri, clad in their gleaming power armor, one could see why they had been entrusted with the task. All of them were giants, standing at or near 3 meters in full battle kit. They could fight at parity with the largest of the Bryn Demons, pummeling those wretched bugs with the strength of an enraged Wookiee. Their nickname Berserkers was fitting.
As they awaited final deployment, the Columns of Valkyri stood in columns on the deck, chanting battle hymns in their native tongue while they banged the metal floor with rifle butts and swords. Sigrid, as their Captain, walked between the columns, occasionally bumping her gauntlet against their shoulder plates.
"For months, we have skirmished with the Demons in Wild Space, but the day has come that they finally have reared their ugly maws in Silver Space. Let us be sure to give them a proper welcome, with blade and gun!"
Hundreds of Valkyri bellowed, their howls drowning out the machinery and working deck crews.
"We will soak the earth with their blood and feed their corpses to the crows!"
Sigrid actually wondered what Bryn meat would taste like after a roast on the grill, but she doubted that her Jedi compatriots would approve. They were a...gentle bunch.
Lucky crows.
"If we should die on these fields, be heartened by the fact that we die fighting. That none of us will die before taking a hundred demons for each man!"
There was an even louder roar through the battalion made her armor rattle from the vibrations.
"Now, take your stations, and prepare for glory..."
She gave one last look to her men before donning her helmet. While giving her speech for victory, the seasoned captain was under no delusions of the momentous task before them. She expected many of her people to die this day - this was the burden of every commander to carry.
However, at least they would die for something, on their feet instead of their knees.
Tarish was right. Danger was coming and from what he knew it wasn't going to be good. These monsters killed everything and they didn't really reapond to dialogue. That meant there would be no quarter given and that everyoje a as at risk of being killed. Undoubtedly he would have to fight them to some extent. It was not ideal. He abhored violence in all of its forms, but he would engage them in order to protect the innocent. As always, he would deal with the emotional consequences after.
"We keep them with us and don't let them engage alone," he said as he looked to the skies. "I don't think it wise to leave them alone against this foe. Perhaps we should pair up with them."
Pairing up would allow them to keep an eye on the padawans. These foes were not going to be easy to face and he did not want to lose one of those under his charge. Corvus would have never let him live it down. Not that he would be able to live with it himself. Plus he liked them and didn't want to see anything happen to them. Most of the populace had been evacuated already, but there were a few still remaining. They were ushering them towards safety and waiting vessels.
Undoubtedly their moment of safety would not last. As he watched the skies the enemy dropships started coming down. The time for battle would soon be upon them.
"Ura, Amani," he called to the two padawans. "Hurry please. The Bryn'adul are beginning to land."
