Attack Of The Dead Sith - Razing Mandalore | TSE Dom of Mandalore

[Rach'ta]

Location: Sundari City, Surface of Mandalore
Tags: -

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After a few long seconds of being checked over by the legionaries the Twi'lek pushed one of their hands away "Thank you. You've done enough." Rach'ta stood up and peaked over the rim of the blast hole, which would've been made by some very hefty munitions, to see the Captain and his company fighting off Mandalorians who used their superior mobility to make their current position in the ruins quite inhospitable. The Captain stood up from behind a crushed boulder of duracrete to shoot his blaster at a Mandalorian, who caught the blaster bolt to the leg. The striken defender fell to one knee while his comrades rushed to his aide "Now! Let 'em have it!" the Captain shouted as the rest of the company came out in force and unleashed a torrent of blaster fire on the location. Beskar'gam was one of the best made armor types in the galaxy but even it had its limits. The Mandalorians collapsed dead or dying in a heap over one another "Move out, we're going to regroup with the flank." the Captain called out while waving his hand for the legionaries to rally on him.

"Your Captain is quite the warrior. The Mandalorians have killed many Jedi in the past, even Sith. To wound one and see the demise of the same with two others is quite the achievement for one man." Rach'ta observed, commenting to the two troopers that were with him "Yeah, story is this is his twentieth invasion. I guess he's seen it all." the trooper's comrade scoffed "That's ridiculous, who would ever survive twenty invasions? C'mon we'll be left behind if we don't catch up." the two legionaries rejoined their company while Rach'ta made his way out of the blast hole to follow at a distance behind the group.

 

[Beatrice Govan]

Peculiar.

War had never been Evelynn's cup of tea. It was a difficult riddle to decipher given that it held all the hallmarks of her desires. Death, suffering and destruction! A true feast for the demented! Yet something about it did not sit quite right in the woman's heart. Perhaps it was the notion of battle, after all, in what world did combat suit a creature that took pleasure in pain? Or maybe it was the lack of a personal touch. Not that war wasn't personal, but rather it lacked proper intimacy, the carnage was for all and with that it made everything a little less, special.

A walking self-hazard, not adept at combat and not particularly interested in warfare. One could have questioned why the Emperor's daughter was there at all?

Ah, but that's where the answer lay, her father. If it was necessary for the revived-woman to show her loyalty then a presence was required, even a somewhat reluctant one. Perhaps one day her participation would come, but further training with Uncle Mordecai was required before that would ever be a reality.

“Brother, is it?” Evelynn queried gently in the direction of the towering monstrosity, no longer sure of who was related to what by this point in time, “If you would bring me back an ear I would be terribly grateful.”

A pause, before the woman turned to the Echani, who would hopefully be keeping her somewhat company during this excursion. An unwitting babysitter of sorts. After all, who knows what horrors would take place were she to wander into the killing fields?

“An old grudge, you see,” she explained with a placid smile, her emerald gaze attempting to offer companionship to those irises corrupted by the Dark Side.

His name was Ordo. A lumbering brute of a Mandalorian who had chosen Evelynn to be the recipient of his hatred for the Sith. The memories were oh-so vivid as they began to resurface, every point of former agony seeming to itch and burn with glee. Stomach, from his fist. Jaw, dislocated. Neck branded. Tooth pulled. Hands severed. Ear t o r n off by his great vengeful hand! Oh it was torture back then, but now? Now it would have been glor-

She caught herself, still staring in the direction of the other woman, her eyes having become wild and unfocused, teeth bared at the very thought of such agony. No, that is not me. A polite smile was offered by way of apology for her brief moment, and Evelynn decided that perhaps the ice needed broken.

“Tell me,” she inquired ever-polite, “what are your feelings on them? The Mandalorians, I mean.”

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[member="Jorryn Fordyce"] [member="Drachau Zambrano"]

 

[Drachau Zambrano]

A monstrous form prowled down the now ruined streets of the Sundari Bio-Dome. Its thick neck craned from left to right as it sought an inkling of movement anywhere nearby, but it appeared ultimately bored. The creature was a weapon crafted to strike at the empire's foes, yet none were near. The first wave of the invasion had left the city mostly empty from the sheer onslaught, though more slaughter was drawing near and the Bastard could feel it. It was entranced by the thought of the coming conflict as it basked in the growing despair that was Sundari. However, its peace was disturbed by the two women who wandered behind it. It stopped moving and looked back, two burning crimson eyes settling on their smaller forms.

"Very well," its gravely voice boomed out from within its chest before it turned away once more. "I will collect the ear, sister," the word was strange coming from the monstrosity. It was somewhat endearing, mostly unnatural but wholly sincere. Drachau trudged forward towards the nearby sounds of conflict. Its lumbering form gained in speed as the creature bounded off down the street. It continued barreling forward in a rumbling charge even as it drew forth its lightsaber and slammed into a group of pinned Mandalorian soldiers. The monster lifted one and slammed him into the wall once, twice, then drove the lightsaber deep into the man's chest. He screamed in agony before sliding to the ruined street below. Another was gripped by the force and crushed by the creature's domineering will. The poor soul howled as blood ran from the ruined gear as the flesh was turned to a pulpy mess within. The third and final soldier attempted to flee, only to be dragged back kicking and screaming as its saber was driven through the man's skull.

Upon finishing with the small group, Drachau breathed in the recent carnage. The feeling was euphoric for the starved monstrosity, though it calmed down enough to stop and kneel. Cracking open each suit of armor, the Bastardsought any way to identify the dead. After reading what each soldier's corpse contained, it straightened and marched onward.

"Not here."

[member="Jorryn Fordyce"] | [member="Evelynn"]​

 

[Drachau Zambrano]

Double post.

 

[Darth Bellum]

Kor Vexen - Lord General of the Imperial Legion

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Location | Sundari Streets
Objective | Subjugate and Eliminate

The Sith had managed to maintain the iron grip around Sundari ever since the initial assault on the planet and several systems surrounding the Mandalorian's core worlds. The Sith General's initial assault had been a surprise that caught the enemy off guard and subsequently a matter of overwhelming the enemy with superior tactics; drawing them to one point while overwhelming and thinning the enemy's numbers where forces had been diverted from. There was still resistance, but the entire city was surrounded and blockaded, running low on resources and slowly dying off. Thanks to several massive breaches made to the domed walls of Sundari, the Sith had several points from which they could relentlessly strike from, cutting down their numbers slowly but surely as their more capable fighters had either fallen in combat or had the intellect to acknowledge that the battle was lost and attempted to flee. With the arrival of Sith reinforcements on the surface, the fate of Mandalore's once glorious capital was sealed. Nothing remained here but death and despair for the once proud warrior clans laid low.

Vexen had gauged the enemy's strength...and found it lacking, hence his direct presence within the city. The enemy had managed to keep him and his main force from breaching the city entirely, but once the reinforcements had arrived, there was not enough to keep him out. Now free to roam the streets of Sundari, the Sith General walked with a menacing aura about him. At this point he had slaughtered any bold enough to try and cross his path, with his unignited saber in hand at his side. The steady crunch of rubble beneath his armored boots could be heard, an ominous sound that fostered uneasiness in the hearts of even seasoned warriors. He was accompanied by several of his Dragoons, the elite shocktroopers under his command that were instrumental in breaching the city and disrupting the enemy. He had but a singular objective in Sundari at this point; find whatever remaining clans were still hidden in the city and either subjugate them or excise them from history.

Vexen would pause as he halted his march, lifting a fist up to signal to his troops to halt. His Dragoons would pause as he looks around, looking at shattered windows up high. His hand would shift as his fingers curled slowly into a fist. An unseen force would reach out to a shattered building, the floor of one of the higher levels giving out. Rubble and a Mandalorian sniper would fall to the ground. Screams of pain and agony could be heard as the young warrior was trapped under rubble, having landed on an exposed piece of rebar that pierced the woman's abdomen. Vexen would slowly approach the wounded Mandalorian as the behemoth of an Anzati crouched down, resting his forearms on his knees as he stared down at the writhing figure, his vocoded voice speaking in a calm yet firm manner, "Where is your clan and leader hiding?"

He'd reach a hand out as he more or less tore off her helmet and tossed it off to the side, revealing a battered and bruised woman, in her late twenties perhaps, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth as she grit her teeth in defiance or to try and stave off the pain. She would spit at Vexen as she grunted, speaking in her people's tongue, expecting the Sith to not hear her dying breath "Go die filthy Sith. I will not forsake my people...You will get nothing from me." Vexen would remain silent for a few moments as the ragged breathing of the woman could be heard before he extended his right arm, electricity crackling around it while he gripped the woman by the throat in the other. He would speak in perfect Mandalorian tongue, "You will tell me what I want to know..." The dark energies of the Force would begin to come into play as he abruptly invaded the woman's mind and sifted through her memories, taking note of what he saw through her eyes while slowly draining what little life remained in her. When he was done, his electrified arm would grab the rebar that she was impaled upon, sending deadly electric currents directly inside of her as her body began to spasm and contort uncontrollably before she died screaming in agony.

The Sith General would push off his knees as he stood up, turning his gaze towards a different direction as he now knew where a pocket of Mandalorian warriors were attempting to operate out of to continue resistance. His boots would begin to move as his Dragoons trailed after him, unshaken and unfazed by their commander's presence, now on the hunt and on the trail to slaughter more Mandalorians.

 

[Funami Teriyaki]

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The shells of the road crunched under Morgan’s muddy boots. How long had he been running down this endless road, hiding from Sith-Imperial forces and narrowly avoiding capture several times? The grey-haired Mandalorian could not tell. Common sense told him his body would have preferred to feel the familiar and protective weight of his old armor, but he could not afford to be seen wearing that if caught. A lightning flash cut through the sky and clearly showed the white road ahead and the black silhouettes of trees along the sides.

He heard the rumble of the thunder, he felt the insupportable ache of his straining lungs, the leaden weight of his tired feet. It was as if every step forth wanted to tell Morgan to give up this foolish endeavor and turn back while he still could. The farmer’s old war injuries burned as if freshly reopened, his back ached, even his knees kept reminding the old soldier his prime had long since passed.

Somewhere up ahead, his contact was waiting. Mandalore’s fate depended on him. His children’s fate depended on him. Morgan had not experienced such drive to succeed in years. Despite the aches and pain, he felt better than in a long time. Younger even.

And then the patter of rain, first washing the stinging sweat from his scratched and bitten face; then pounding harder, flowing down across his hatless head, matting his hair, slowing his headlong gait to a dog trot. Again he was running, and the rain had turned to hail. Pellets as big as slugs beat down on him, pounding and hammering at his countless cuts. Again, the lightning. And, on the other side of the road, a figure, waiting for him.

A smile brightened his face. This was it. He had done it. Then, as he edged closer, another bolt of lightning blasted through the night to illuminate the path. Morgan froze in realization he had made a fatal slip. That wasn’t Mandalorian armor donned by the stranger. His hand went for the gun, but the rustle of leaves from all sides alerted him they were not alone.

“There he is, boys! Grab him!” The figure barked, prompting four soldiers to burst from the surrounding foliage and charge the Mandalorian. Morgan spun about, blaster at the ready, but before he could squeeze the trigger, a pair of strong hands grabbed him by the arm, painfully twisting it and driving his entire body to the dirt.

“Got him, sir!” A younger voice reported with a twinge of pride.

Morgan’s muscles strained in an effort to break free, but he was no longer the beast he once was. “But, look here, I'm a civilian! I was just--“ He started, swiftly interrupted by the commanding officer.

“You should praise whatever god of war you savages worship that you didn’t get shot on sight! Well, we don't do things that way in the Empire! You'll get a trial; everything fair and square!” The commander looked at Morgan, disdain flowing from him like vomit. “Now bring him along, men! Miss Teriyaki will deal with him personally.”

 

[Charlyra Araano]

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An intense ringing in her right ear combined with searing pain from her leg woke Charlyra from whatever slumber she had been in. A gash on her head known to her only by the blood that trickled down to her lips. She reached with a hand to feel the substance on her fingers. She could feel the Force return to her but at the moment she had no idea where she was. In a split second up became down and down became up, everything went black afterward. Pinned between pieces of debris Charlyra began to examine her surroundings, smoke rose from somewhere beneath her current position and the smell of death washed over her.

She could, however, feel the presence of the dark side and that - that was good. It would have to do for now as she tried to pull the Force toward her to try and move the debris from her leg. Too much too soon she thought as the debris barely budged she relaxed there atop of the rubble. Looking up she could see some semblance of daylight which at least for her meant she wasn't too far from the surface. For now, all Charlyra could do was wait, wait until she had regained enough strength to push the debris off of her leg and work herself free.

[member="Kaalia Pavanos"]

 

[Adriana Fortemps]

It was almost comical, the sight of such a monstrosity clashing against what apparently was his sister. The girl now left alone with Jorryn was a pretty little thing, an unusual sight from what the Echani had seen from the royal family. In fact every member of the Zambrano family that she had met stood *at least* a foot taller than her, whereas the girl with her rested at the same height.

What an interesting family...

[member="Evelynn"] was an innocent looking thing, which made it all the more jarring to the Inquisitor when she asked for the thing she called "brother" to retrieve an ear for her. It was hard to place the young girl as her emerald eyes stared into Jorryn's, no sign of any corruption of the dark side. Of course the Inquisitor knew better than to interrogate a member of the royal family too much, but still. Jorryn couldn't have asked for a more interesting companion to watch her monster slaughter.

"Of course, My Lady..." The silky tone of the Inquisitor catching as the blonde's face began to shift a bit, before she returned to it. "Of course, and if they are within our grasp today I shall ensure they bleed for you." The apologetic look from the blonde soon after only made the Echani more curious, about what could have happened to the girl.

She looked... normal. Very normal.

As far as the Inquisitor could tell, there were no signs of battle on the young girl. In fact her stature was hardly fitting for someone on the battlefield, a fragile frame befitting that of a noble daughter whose only job it was would be to get married off. The Echani chewed the inside of her cheek to stop herself from digging into anything she shouldn't.

"We should follow your....." The word "brother" caught on Jorryn's tongue. It was a word for family, not some butcher pet you let out to kill. "We should follow Lord Drachau." Giving only a disarming smile to the smaller Zambrano as she guided them out of the ship, following the [member="Drachau Zambrano"]'s path of carnage closely behind.

The Inquisitor couldn't help but smile as she saw the destruction, reasserting how much she knew he would become a valuable weapon to her.

The pair stayed far enough away from the combat, enough to not have to worry about being dragged in and enough to chat. Jorryn was always one for chatting, that's how information spilled into her lap so very often. And as she had hoped, the blonde began to speak in her ever dulcet tone.

"They are beasts that need to be taught what it is like to defy the Empire." Harsh words coming from a surprisingly calm looking figure, black lips still curled into a smile as she turned to look back into the girl's emerald eyes. "They were useful to us as weapons and no more. The problem comes from when weapons begin to believe that they have a mind of their own, darling." The amber gaze of the Echani flitting towards the behemoth clearing the path in front of them, before returning to exaggerate a smile to it's "sister".

"And it is my duty as an Inquisitor to ensure that these weapons are used properly and if not..." Jorryn's calming visage disappearing for one slim second, her tone lowering to propagate her words. "Then to dismantle them."

The Inquisitor perked up once more, not wishing to let the Zambrano in on too many of her feelings. Just enough to hopefully hook the girl onto Jorryn's personality and maybe raise some curiosity of her own.

 

[Kaalia Pavanos]

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While keeping her shoulder steady, Avacyn attempted to move her right arm towards where she kept her holocommunicator. Trying to move it elicited a muffled noise through closed lips, indicative of her experiencing at least some level of pain. No good. It wasn't just her shoulder, her entire right arm was in bad shape. The flame in her left hand was extinguished for a moment as she reached for the holocommunicator with it instead, but found it was missing. The flame returned, she looked around her. Nowhere to be seen.

A sigh of frustration managed to escape Avacyn's lips. Carefully she got to her feet while attempting to move her right arm as little as possible, though that was easier said than done. She winced as she accidently moved her shoulder, even putting her off-balance for a moment and almost causing her to fall back down. That exposed another problem, her ribs. The woman hoped her right ribcage was merely bruised rather than broken, but only time would tell. With careful steps she found a large boulder to lean against to catch her breath.

When her breathing became more stable again, she slowly stepped away and re-ignited the flame in her hand. All she could do for the moment was look for Charlyra and so she began to move. Hopefully she could find something to point her in the right direction.

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[member="Charlyra Araano"]​

 

[Adenn Kyramud]

Location: Rubble of Sundari
Weapons: In BIO under 'Weapons always with Adenn' ; E'care linked in sig
OOC Goal: Provide some opposition for you folks, hehe, since I didn't show up to that other thread, even though I should'v/will. Heh
Links: Hell's Angel,
Tags: @Evelynn [member="Jorryn Fordyce"] [member="Charlyra Araano"] [member="Kor Vexen"] [member="Drachau Zambrano"] [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Lyris Vyrehl"] [member="Corran Watts"] [member="Salara Zambrano"] [member="Sith Muse"] [member="Invicta Zambrano"] [member="Kascalion Giedfield"] [member="Kaalia Pavanos"] [member="Jorryn Fordyce"]
And yes, I was allowed to come give some opposition, hehe. Enjoy

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sr6q6IzGHXw​

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Sundari, capital of Mandalore under the New Mandalorians, the Mandalorian Empire, and if the Sith had their way, the TSE soon enough. But if Adenn and his vode had anything to say about it, then that wouldn't happen. Currently he was within Sundari, having made his way away from the destroyed palace and his fight with one [member="Darth Prazutis"]. The fight wasn't all that hard, despite the numerous claims made about the man. Smirking, Adenn chuckled somewhat since the fight had only been broken up by the sudden detonation of several kilotons of explosives under the palace. Then Adenn looked around and noted the rubble around him, the once great city of Sundari was being burned, and for that the Sith would pay. Not that Adenn truly cared about the city, it didn't really matter what happened to Mandalore, the Mandalorians would survive. Now though it would be a fight for those within the city to escape, or die while giving the enemy hell.

To that end, Adenn planned on using his remaining forces in the city to fight off the enemy, along with any survivors he could find. In that regard, it wasn't hard finding survivors, as Mandalorians were a hardy kind, and they would fight tooth and nail for Mandalore. Currently Adenn stood atop a larger pile of rubble with a special surprise underneath it, but that was for later. For now, Adenn looked around at those he had gathered together, along with those who were getting ready to push out. Alongside all the warriors in the area, there were also several heavy vehicles that the Sith had managed to miss, or had been well hidden by the Mando'ade. Sadly there wasn't any real artillery left, a few pieces sure, but not enough ammo to shoot several times, enough for 2 volleys at least though. However, whoever would shoot those would probably be on a suicide mission, but they knew what they were getting into, and they all volunteered. Activating his comms, Adenn spoke to his men, to his vode, no... his aliit.

"Alright aliit, you know what I'd say, you know the plan, you know what's at stake and you know why we must do this. So I won't tell you that we'll all make it out, because not all of us will, but I can guarantee that you will be remembered, forever. Onwards vode, perhaps not to victory, but to glory and honor, to Manda. For our aliit, for Mandalore." They repeated his call of 'For Mandalore,' it was only natural, for that was what they truly fought for now. That done, the Mando'ade fought back on a larger scale now, and they would reap a bloody harvest by the time this was done. Even as this happened, in hangers across the planet, shuttles were prepared to head to Sundari. They would go to evacuate the Mando'ade trapped within the city and provide support for the Mando'ade.

But that was elsewhere, here in Sundari, as one, the Mando'ade moved out, heading as one towards a weaker section of the Sith lines, planning on breaking through and escaping the burning hellscape that was Sundari. The tanks moved to act as surrounding moving protection, even as several Mandos flew up to get the high ground. Smirking as they moved out, Adenn turned on his heel and marched to the highest point of the rubble mound. There he looked down before kicking some of the rubble away and kneeling. Beneath him was a large glass pane, behind that were Mandalorians performing final checks and repairs. Smiling grimly, Adenn rapped his knuckles on the glass and pointed up when he had their attention. Receiving a Mandalorian salute in turn, Adenn nodded once before moving up a bit more.

Suddenly a rumbling was heard from below Adenn, even as the rubble began to quake as something moved. Rocking back and forth, Adenn struggled to keep his balance for a few moments as the quaking stopped for a moment, and then roar was heard. The rubble shifted and the upper 'torso' of Hell's Angel rose up from the rubble. Said rubble cascaded down from the main frame of the massive walker, even as the walkers legs shifted to slowly bring the titan to its 'feet.' The walker stood at a whopping 125m tall, towering over most everything left in the city, and atop the cockpit stood Adenn. He looked out across the city, staring at the fighting, at the Sith, and at his vode that fought the dar'jetii. Sneering in contempt at the Sith, Adenn pointed forward, and the behemoth walker strode forth, each stepping rumbling the streets, even as its artillery opened fire along with the ground artillery. Then the walker itself 'spoke,' letting out a blast from the laser canon, aiming directly for a large concentration of Sith troops and armor. After that, its speaker boomed out its rallying cry, and the Mando'ade rose to fight once more.
"Death to the enemies of Mandalore, for our aliit, for Mandalore!"

 

[Amaya Cardei]

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The Sith had Sundari in their hands, and with little resources left for the Mandalorians only death awaited them. A simple question would be asked, bow or die, and death seemed to be the more favorable option to most of the Mandalorians here. Yet there were still some who decided that life with the Sith would be better than death. Those who had chosen life among the Sith would be sent to a camp where they would begin their life as a Sith-Mandalorian.

Colonel Dido found herself slaying most of the Mandalorians she came across. She could not fault their devotion however misplaced she felt it was. Her blaster continued to fire with pauses to allow the blaster to cool down. Tanks crushed through what they could, walkers landed their turbolasers on buildings driving out any Mandalorians who were holding out.

The 421st continued their march toward the palace grounds, meanwhile the 173rd found themselves fighting through the ruins of the mines. Mopping up any resistance that may still present and they too found little in the way of Mandalorians willing to join the Sith Empire. Colonel Tarkin surveyed what was left, the bombs from the TIE Wing did a lot of damage, but he felt as if it was too quiet. He ordered them to keep searching, to ensure that their opposition were indeed gone.

[member="Kaalia Pavanos"] | [member="Taeli Raaf"]

 

[Rach'ta]

Location: Sundari City, Surface of Mandalore
Tags: -

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Having followed the Captain and his company for almost fifteen minutes through the smoldering debris fields the Twi'lek felt wrong. Something about the ruins which they were now passing through, apparently on their way to meet with another legionary company, was wrong "This is a trap." Rach'ta directed at a soldier who was near him "Rest easy, my lord, this company hasn't walked into an ambush it couldn't handle." this did little to ease Rach'ta's apprehension. No ambush came.

The two companies made contact and as a large force began to move towards what was supposed to be a Mandalorian resistance strong-point. This still did not feel right. What was causing him such anxiety? Rach'ta looked around, through the veil that obscured his eyes but also did some to shield them from the dust and ash. Slowly it dawned on him. The Twi'lek looked to the right and to the rear of the formation, where he was following, and saw multiple Mandalorians clad head to toe in what could only be described as a heavy set of Beskar'gam. This was not the most striking characteristic about them. They were wielding lightsabers and had with them no small amount of the Force.

"Behind! Look behind you!" Rach'ta called forward to several legionaries who had been watching Rach'ta's unusually twitchy demeanor "Contacts East!" reported several legionaries. The lightsaber wielding Mandalorian squad rushed forward on jetpacks, deflecting blaster bolts with their lightsabers while launching miniature rockets from their wrists into the flank. They were fast for their bulk. The ruins of the city did much to hinder the combined companies from returning fire. The Mandalorians ducked into blowout windows into unreachable levels of the buildings. Rach'ta turned in circles where he stood as they seemed to multiply "Push through! Push through!" came a familiar voice of the Captain from the first company which was making his way through his men, blaster held upwards, tugging legionaries up from their covered positions and pushing them behind him - forwards through the street "Push through! Don't get trapped here! Get up, go forward! Don't cower like welps! Move!" then the Captain grabbed Rach'ta by the left wrist and yanked on him to turn Rach'ta towards him "Do something! This is your fight, Sith! What are you here for?!" to be sure the acolyte was not prepared to fight so many at once and he felt relatively powerless to prevent them from strafing the assailants.

As red blaster bolts filled the alleyway and miniature rockets pelted the damaged streets Rach'ta turned to a burned out landspeeder and began to lift it with the force, both hands turned upwards towards the sky. The hulk of scrap began to absorb the rockets as a shield. The Captain watched with narrowed eyes then seemed content to leave the acolyte to it "Don't keep gawking, move!" the Captain gripped a green legionary by the shoulder pad and began pulling him along. Rach'ta looked over his shoulder to see the men moving away. They were leaving him behind! To fight all on his own?! The Twi'lek's head snapped back to the landspeeder which was then cut in half by a lightsaber wielding Mandalorian who burst through the glowing wreckage, plummeting to the ground with the blade raised above his head to strike down Rach'ta "Oya'cye, kyr'am , mare'cye, darasuum!" he bellowed.

 

[Venthis Zambrano]

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arriving at...​

S U N D A R I​

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The fight would be a long one, thousands of lives would be lost. Though, this was nothing new to the acolyte. His tribal world of war and destruction had imprinted this lifestyle into his blood. He would be apart of one of the later waves of reinforcements. He stood aboard the transport vessel, wearing minimal armour. His body had been covered in markings and tribal paintings. His torso exposed, bare. In order to show off his markings, he had prepared. A red light shun down onto him, warning him of the imminent landing, though exposing his face to the soldiers sat around him; his tribal tattoos across his face in clear view, some of them staring hesitantly. A scowl soon followed from behind his sharpened teeth.​

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Eventually a screech would be heard and a few bumps, before a cold steel door towards the back of the vessel would drop into the dirt, crushing whatever laid beneath it. War in it's natural form.​

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As soon as the doors dropped, soldiers ran out from the dropship into cover, a soldier besides Izel being blasted from a sniper some distance away. Izel's eyes would flicker over, almost glazed with a desire to draw blood. Sliding through the mud, he would find himself behind a barricade. A small metal bar attatched to his belt would flicker with life, a small red light switching on as Izel's hand made it's way towards it. Izel unclipping the bar from his belt, two ends would shoot out from the bar, one with an extremely sharp spearhead. ​

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He poked his head up, quickly spotting an open doorway within one of the buildings in front of him. He would wait for the squadron of troopers to make their move, before he would dart across the plaza they had landed in to the doorway. He found himself within an apartment complex, pointing his spear before him, he would tread carefully. Listening. Watching.​

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Creeeeeakkk.​

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To left of him, he heard a door slowly open. Soon after a roar of raw heart, a battlecry as he charged Izel, knocking him into one of the walls. Izel's natural sharpened teeth flaring from beneath his dry thin lips. He would toss his spear towards the warrior, barely missing his head, following up with a charge of his own, knocking the man through the wall besides the door he had come from. "Arrrrrghhhhhh!" Izel screeched, going through the wall with him.​

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[Funami Teriyaki]

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​

Cocking an eyebrow in surprise, he looked at the approaching shapes. The first to come was small, incredibly so. Morgan had not anticipated being brought before a little kid. Forced to his knees, the giant of a man calmly observed the girl’s skip closer. Pink-haired and clad in a cute dress that matched her hair color, she stuck out like a sore thumb. Her presence made no sense and if not in danger, he would have found the situation comical. The girl’s appearance cast a sad smile over Morgan’s face. Her youth reminded him of his three little boys. He wistfully looked into her violet eyes, yet found no trace sympathy or mercy despite her wide grin.

His gaze left the small child and focused on another figure that followed in her wake. Eyes wide open, Morgan stared at a familiar dark-skinned man. “Why-- You're the rebel who stopped at my farm yesterday. You’re Sullivan!” He exclaimed in surprise. This wasn’t right. It made no sense. Sullivan had said this place too dangerous for him to enter. Had he been caught as well?

Sullivan gave a smooth nod and smiled a wolfish grin. “That's right, Morgan, but I'm not with the resistance.”

“Fufufu~,” an adorable giggle came from the girl, though the sound sent shivers down Morgan’s spine. Although by all means cute, something was terribly off about the child. “This is Lieutenant Korak, intelligence officer.”

The realization dawned on Morgan and his despair deepened, only to twist and whirl into a much more powerful feeling; rage. The muscles in his legs flexed, ready to jump, but an unseen force prevented any movement.

“You've trapped me,” Morgan exclaimed in a fit of anger. “You deliberately led me into a trap! I'm a civilian and a farmer--!”

“You’re a Mandalorian patriot caught in the act of espionage.” The little brat sneered, a cruel gleam flashing in her eyes.

“You can't prove it,” Morgan stated, lowering his eyes toward the muddy ground.

“We don't have to.”

“This is the most despicable, the most-- This proves once more that honor is a stranger in the Empire!” Morgan turned pleading eyes toward ‘Sullivan’ and found no sympathy in his face either.

The little girl dismissively waved a hand and rolled her eyes. “It's late. I'm too tired to listen to a recital about Mandalorian honor,” she rumbled before her voice turned a whisper laced with poison and she leaned closer. “I'm afraid the distinction between your ethics and my lack of them would escape me today.”

One small hand clenched, and for a moment Morgan’s throat closed tight. Eye bulging out, he hit the floor, kicking, gagging, unable to escape. With confusion etched in his face, the farmer started to black out when the unseen grip yielded, followed by another playful giggle from the kid.

 

[Beatrice Govan]

She had to marvel at her sibling as they followed on a sensible distance behind him, still unsure if that was indeed the right term to use at all. There would be no deception in his looks, Drachau looked like a monster and in turn slaughtered like a monster too. An undeniably useful beast to have upon your side, and yet for a moment Evelynn considered his mind. What was going through that head? Surely more than just bloody lust. The thought didn't last particularly long howerver, the screams of Mandalorian anguish causing the hairs upon the back of her neck to stand at attention.

Oh my, how must that have felt?

Before allowing herself to become consumed by the suffering, Evelynn decided it would be better to focus her attentions upon her escort rather than her brother.

She spoke of the Mandalorians as if they were mere tools and nothing beyond that. They were not people. They were bodies to follow a purpose and an order. Not made to think, or feel or even be. Silly little tin can toy soldiers manufactured to fight, die and be replaced. It was indeed a very Sith-minded view, the hierarchy of who was deemed worthy to exist and then all that fell below, to be nothing more than slaves of various utility. The Zambrano had heard similar opinions in the past and often found herself caught upon the wrong side of the aforementioned hierarchy.

The Emperor's daughter considered the Echani's words, weighing them carefully with a raised eyebrow and pursed lips.

“You remind me of somebody.”

The perfectly cryptic statement was followed by a short pause, the woman's face remaining fairly impassive until at last a small smile that attempted to be warm followed.

Let us pray that the similarities end there.

In the wake of Drachau's destruction the former-Queen paused, crouching down beside one of the mangled corpses, seeming more akin to an open can of mystery meat than a once sentient being. A delicate hand was placed upon the butchered mess of exposed flesh left behind, feeling the the warmth of life leaving the soft, wet crimson. Far too quick. Far too messy. Such a waste.

“They once called me the Beast Tamer of the Cauldron,” Evelynn mused softly as she removed her now-stained hand from the devastated corpse, “no dismantling needed on my part, however.”

Largely because all of her pets had been slaughtered in cruel fashion by her lover. The violent scene stabbed at her mind. The moment of discovery. The absolute silence. The carnage. The blood. Th-

Was that a giant walker in the far off distance?

“...and how do you prefer to dismantle faulty weapons, Inquisitor? I am afraid you have piqued my interest.”

-

[member="Jorryn Fordyce"] [member="Drachau Zambrano"]

 

[Invicta Zambrano]

With: Salara Zambrano
Seeking: [member="Darth Carnifex"] & Serin Zambrano
Location: Sundari City
~*~*~*~
Soundtrack: Disturbed "Devour"
Opposition: [member="Adenn Kyramud"], opposition, you dear, sweet boy? You've given me such a gift.

"Consider it done..."

The Empress began, her voice ringing with an odd tone that took her a moment to bring under control. Even as she did so, her gaze snapped out towards the left Salara had suggested.

There was movement, the silhouette of armored figures, the shifting of rubble...the Force provided her a gift beyond compare as it always did when she chose to take the field. She would feast upon Mandalorian energy this day and glut herself upon their death throes.

It was a damn good thing she was hungry.

"Find our beloved husband...I will see to this-"

The blast emitted by the Mandalorian emplacements decimated several score of their frontline troops...of the Empress' personal vanguards whom each of them had chosen carefully and with great deliberation. Her gaze narrowed and simmered until it blazed a deep, bloody crimson. Not of rage, that was not her purview...this was pure, unadulterated hunger.

"...I will see to our guest personally."

Invicta strode forward, heedless of those already fallen troops and those screaming out their last. Several of them provided her with a boost of energy as she passed, crimson locks flowing freely as her hands stretched out to either side of her slender form. It was a feast in every sense of the word, suffusing her, supporting her, and flooding out from her fingers as her hands flung forward, emitting blood red bolts of energy that blasted some of the Mandalorians clear off of their feet. Others still would find themselves fighting to keep the slow, invasive tendrils out of the vulnerable point of their armor and away from their flesh.

Her pace remained steady and even, her hands still outstretched, her posture leaving little to the imagination.

It was a clear invitation.

 

[Lyris Vyrehl]

With: [member="Corran Watts"]
Objective: Slaughtering enemies & saving the poor boy...big sister mode engaged.
Location: Sundari City
~*~*~*~
Soundtrack: Disturbed "Devour"


There were definitely going to be words exchanged with...someone. She would find someone who clearly needed a new one ripped somewhere inconvenient and painful and then proceed to give them what they deserved. Her fingers tightened over the edge of her helmet as she brought herself back to the present moment, focusing on the boy as he mustered up enough energy to respond to her questions. "Corran...alright then. Good to meet you...call me Lyris. I'll save the rest of the introduction for a less...busy moment."

"You don't...the frell are the Masters even doing?" Lyris sighed and reached up with her free hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. It was too much. An untrained Force-sensitive without a Master or a lightsaber, volunteered, grabbed a rifle, and got himself to the surface in time to realize he was terrified.

Anyone else would have put the poor thing out of his misery. She honestly gave it half a second's thought before internally chiding herself. He was out of his element, certainly, but there was no better teacher than a battlefield, and he deserved a chance.

"Honestly, not the dumbest idea I've ever heard..." Lyris lofted a brow and tilted her head to the side, taking careful stock of him. He moved, and she shifted back a bit to give him room. He was already steeling himself out of his panic, and while she couldn't quite put a finger on how, at least it was working.

This was promising.

"Good." Lyris nodded and stood, tapping him on his shoulder and preparing to lend a hand if needed.

"Right then. We've got work to do...you're going to help me clear this sector like I did with the last one. On your feet, Corran. Let's move."

 

[Drachau Zambrano]

Screams of the dying echoed through the streets of Sundari. Small pockets of survivors who had managed to break the first wave of Sith troops now maintained as defensible a position as possible. The attempt was admirable, something the Bastard could respect. It didn't particularly matter, given Drachau was released to exterminate what remained of them. The first group of three had been poor sport, falling to fear and dying before the final blow was truly struck. It irritated the monstrosity greatly this species of warriors hadn't the will to keep fighting, though the sacking of one's capitol often brought a drop in morale. The scent of despair led him onward, trudging down another long avenue to eventually stand before a shop of some kind.

"Heh," the brief chuckle escaped the monstrous Sith, only to be replaced by a deep growl. The door to the building screeched as it was torn from its hinges and tossed aside. Drachau marched into the build, it's massive for lowering to accommodate the smaller frame. From side to side its massive head turned, following the scent of doom to the small building, Drachau moved to leave but paused. The faintest of scrapes, perhaps cloth on wood? It was enough to garner the Sith Lord's attention. Pushing its way inside, the sith approached the pantry with a wicked smile. It tore the cover away to reveal someone hidden away, protecting what appeared to be a small child. It's lightsaber bit deep, killing the two hidden away swiftly. "Pathetic."

Drachau strode out and turned once more to trudge down the road. After a few blocks of errant travel, it would turn back to its two companions.

"Inquisitor. What purpose do you have here? Your people did their part prior to the invasion. I was surprised when asked to accompany you," the creature appeared curious in its own strange way. "I always took your order more for, paperwork and the like."

[member="Evelynn"] | [member="Jorryn Fordyce"]​

 

[Kascalion Giedfield]

***Location: Sundari, Mandalore
Objective: Find the Emperor
Star Date: c. 859, before Mandalorian Invasion of Kashyyyk
Allies: Salara Zambranohttp://starwarsrp.net/user/16626-salara-zambrano/http://starwarsrp.net/user/16626-salara-zambrano/ | Invicta Zambranohttp://starwarsrp.net/user/4044-invicta-zambrano/ | TSE
Enemies: Mandalorians
Themex)***

The opposition had been stiff up to that point, surprisingly so for a people on the brink of death. Mandalore was lost. Mandalore was in ruin. Yet, somehow, they persisted. Somehow, they would attack and blast and yell at the advancing Sith.

Kascalion had taken a large brunt of the defensive attacks, his armor scorched in nearly every conceivable location. Gouges deep into the metal and close to his ashen skin marked the remnants of quick and heated battle. Only his face bore injuries, light slices of his flesh that bled trickles down his cheekbones and over the grooves of his respirator. His armor, especially his fists, bore the injuries of others.

Gore and crimson coated the armored fists that were clenched and crackled with electric streaks of black lightning, and inside those fists, against his palms, churned the indecipherable formations of the Darkshears that Kascalion had used to great effect. More than one Mandalorian had found themselves speared to the ground by them, skewered through their jaws and eye sockets, their hearts punctured, left dying or dead. More often the latter than the former.

And through it all, the Devil Lion questioned why he wandered the palace of desolation looking for the Emperor. He held no malice for the man, and in his own way respected him, but this entire facade, this display of power, was pointless and merely cost more lives than were necessary.

You won't leave. Why? Why do you persist? It will happen again and again. It will never stop. Why should you care. Relax for once. Sleep. Drink. Rest.

"No," Kascalion told himself, shoving the nihilism down into its bitter pit. "Carnifex must be found. Lest the Empire fall."

Let it fall. It will fall soon. It always does. Return home. Return to the Heart. It awaits you, Kascalion. Return home and rest.

"I will not have my own mind become my inner demon," the Ashen Devil growled, eyes blazing brightly for but a moment. "Carnifex will be found."

And so, with those words, Kascalion, ever proficient with the Force, stopped in his tracks and breathed deeply. Silently, he focused and honed into the Dark Side. Whisps of vile imagery flashed in his vision, but they were nothing more than smoke and mirrors. Trickery and deceit. Taking inspiration from those he had killed, Kascalion persisted and began to hone in on the largest Dark Side presence in Sundari. It was muddled, hard to locate properly, but it was there. He just needed to condense it down, unaware of the several Mandalorians taking aim at him from behind.

 

[Harath Eldar]

Harath Eldar strode behind a series of armored soldiers. Guns at the ready, the small unit stormed a house containing a surviving group of Mandalorians. Swift and efficient, the survivors were executed and the group continued onward. It lasted this way for Harath's time eradicating the trapped and separated Mandalorians. He sought a challenge within the remnants of the warrior civilization, but found only a scattered and broken defense. In one house on their route, a strange occurrence presented itself. A Mandalorian had been found cornerened and alone, the Eldar's weapons trained on him and ready to fire. Rather than face his death with pride, the stranger threw down his weapon in an attempt to beg for his life.

A telltale grin grew across the echani's face. He strode past his unit and looked over the kneeling soldier, disgust in the young Alor's gaze. He raised a booted foot and slammed the soldier to the floor.

"I have a few questions for you," Harath's smile did not leave his face as he beat the man violently for several minutes, slipping in a few choice questions every so often. Eventually, the man grew still, his form unmoving. Harath strode away, wiping the blood from his armored hand. Stepping outside, his gaze shifted in the direction of the smoking, annihilated palace.

"Forward, men. We shall fight our way to the palace and claim it for the Empire."

The party marched on, returning to their methodical slaughter of Sundari's residents.