Skirmish Bryn'ing Down The House [Jedi v. Bryn'adûl]

[Reosyvern]

Equipment: None
Location: Aboard a the Venture-class Star Galleon
Objective: Board the Venture-class Star Galleon, Aurelius Baldor
Allies: Bryn’adul
Enemies: Galactic Alliance, Aurelius Baldor

ON THE DEBAUCHER BOARDING VESSEL​

The Debaucher silently writhed through the vacuum of space, dangling off the Venture-class Star Galleon as the aforementioned starship continued to swing around towards the underbelly of the Debaucher. SLAM! Another tendril caught onto the Venture-class. The teeth jutted out and punctured the hull with frightening ease. Though as the Debaucher grabbed a second hold on the starship, the Venture-class’ weapons began to pelt the underside of the creature. The damage from the the smaller weapons was now showing on the much softer belly. The turbolasers gouged deep chunks of flesh from the organic transport.

Just as those within the Debaucher were about to begin to funnel out of the first tendril that made contact, which had now bore a large hole in the hull segment that Reosyvern was in, the Assault Concussion Missiles detonated onto the underbelly of Debaucher. Chunks of flesh and blood sprayed out into globs that shot out in all directions. Despite the apparent demise of the vessel, it still held onto the Galleon, stuck to the armor due to the teeth. It would remain to be seen if any of those within the creature survived the blast, but it was unlikely.

WITHIN THE VENTURE-CLASS STAR GALLEON​

Reosyvern’s eyes flickered in all directions as he assessed where he was. There was no security on this segment. Though just as he tried to move forward the blast door slammed down and the tell tale sign of a deflector shield covered the thick metal. He turned around quickly, like a snaked coiling in on itself, but he was too slow - the door behind him (now at his front) slammed closed as well and was now covered in the shield.

If Reosyvern had been a mindless beast, perhaps this tactic would have stumped him. However, he wasn’t a mindless beast. He is a tactically thinking, level headed, warrior of the Byrn’adul. He believed himself to be destined for greatness and no amount of airlocks or blastdoors were going to keep him from his destiny. His head looked upwards, he crouched, then launched himself into the air upwards. His body disappearing into the ceiling as the powerful legs allowed him to jump into the next corridor. He did so again and again. He didn’t know where the bridge was, he had no ability to see the layout of the ship from the outside, but he knew that the majority of bridges were located near the top quarter of starships and located on the aft or bow.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Honoghr // x01-Skywalker Class // JTSP
Strike team objective: Go for The Head
Fast Lane​

Battlemeld - It was inexplicable but useful. The coordination that came with it would have taken several runs with Weyland Castril , but sharing his intentions through an ethereal tether allowed the pair to twist around the massive multi-eyed dragon and deliver blow after blow. It remained seemingly unharmed. “Can you see any weaknesses on this thing?!”

Suddenly, the unearthly creature burst forward with unmatched speed and torpedoed in a trajectory that seemed focused on getting away. And right into the path of an evacuation vessel. Self preservation suggested she should rudder out of the way.

Crimson energy burst from the monster’s weapon, out into the void and hoping to strike true.

“Ten! Starboard!” Her voice all but cracked over the comms in a barking warning to her squadmate. A distance away, and in the line of fire of the axe’s outburst.

“Ten!” Loske couldn’t see the results, blocked by the brilliance of the red, the residue energy that skittered over her shields, and perhaps her own panic.

“Reporting in, I’m here five.”

Loske’s eyes rolled back with relief, exhaling heavily. It was too soon in the fight to start dropping like searing hot flies.

Weyland Castril ’s voice broke over the comms. She didn’t have time to ask what a
Ra’mak was -- something made her know it was the skeletal monsters that were gliding through space that the big dragon was surrounding itself with. Chicken Loske thought hotly.

On the bright side, her targeting was red most of the time, confirming several locks. The creatures were large and there were a lot of them. “We gotta stay focused on getting that dragon and it’s rider down.” She tensed through the comms, surprised at the clarity of the mission at hand. She wasn’t sure if that pragmatism should be attributed to her paternal donor, or the battlemeld.

On either side of her, two Sabers superceded their speed - coring through the fins of the creatures and seeking to penetrate the areas of their exoskeletons. A few laser shots struck true, and the monsters coiled and twisted in anguish. Either unable to fly any longer, or rendered incapacitated by accurate shots between their plating, four of them twisted away from chasing Knight Castril’s X-Wing, and were cast down to the surface below.

“Ah!” Was all she could do when Allyson Locke broke formation. Likely for good reason; Loske was myopically focused on the mission. Breaking formation would be required, that much was clear. They had to cut through the equivalent of an asteroid field to get to the big bad.

Keep it still so we can bring it down. She thought, taking this battlemeld thing for a spin. Let’s set the firepower up for success. AKA: Maynard Treicolt , Ryv and their accompanying band of Y-Wings.

Absolute in her focus, she speared forward into the fray once more. Pressing and depressing the pedals to bob and weave evasively from the torrent of biochemical fire that would incinerate her apparently.

The blasts from the Ra’maks were really putting the Skywalker Class’ inertial compensators to the test.

Closing the distance, she didn’t decelerate. Instead, she slapped the stick hard to port, bringing the X-Wing into a snap-roll that put the enemy beneath her feet. As she turned, she was able to catch a glimpse of Tathra Khaeus through the glasteel view ports. Scary. Finally, she reduced her speed to drop above and behind the creature; thumbing her weapon system over to the Jedi Bombs and releasing the first drop; focusing it forward to target the back between the wings of the creature.

Spoiler

Jedi: Romi Jade / Weyland Castril / Ryv / Allyson Locke / Jyoti Nooran / Maynard Treicolt / Romi Jade

Evacuation aid: Jegy Sesara / Or'Fol Moric / Kyra Perl / Jend-Ro Quill / Aurelius Baldor / Ghrom the Molten / Kelsie Sylvan

Bryn'adûl: Tathra Khaeus / Osam / Hrajlmak'Natok / Reosyvern

 

[Aurelius Baldor]

Equipment: BAW-56, BAW-57, Mono-edge cutlass
Ships: The Dervish WR-542 Shooting Star, Venture-class Star Galleon, squadron of assorted light freighters
Objective: Help evacuation efforts, Detach Debaucher, Eliminate onboard threat
Allies: Galactic Alliance
Enemies: Bryn’adûl, Reosyvern

​

Aurelius punched the air with his fist and shouted in celebration, as if he had been possessed by the spirit of a certain famous Corellian smuggler. The rest of the bridge crew joined in their cheers as they witnessed the apparent demise of the Debaucher, flesh and blood floating away from its corpse. "Blast the tentacles with the turbolasers so we're not dragging that whole damned thing with us. Whatever came out of that lump came through one of the tentacles, and I doubt it was alone." The Debaucher seemingly dealt with, Aurelius picked up his cigar, giving it a last puff before putting it out in the ash tray built into his command console. He would have to send his compliments to Arctrus Astronautical once he was back at safe harbor. "I want the security droids sent to where those tentacles punched through, in case any more freaks come crawling out. S2s too."

"Aurelius! That creature, it's making its way up the decks! Like its phasing through the ceilings or something!" The crew member manning the sensors said, surprise evident in their voice.

"Try using the hallway ray shield cages. Shouldn't be able to pass through those," Aurelius advised. Scratching his chin with his free hand, he swung out the cylinder of his pistol and quickly checked that the power cells were full. If whatever had boarded the ship was as big as the scans said it was he doubted the pistol could kill it, but it would be better to go down fighting if it got to the bridge. He didn't know what else they could do if the cages didn't stop it. Aurelius swung the cylinder back in, making a mental note that if he survived this, he needed to beef up his security. His guards, in their aging Krail battle armor, readied their percussive cannons. They were sworn to protect him, after all. Even if that thing seemed to be about as big as all ten of them combined.

What the hell was this thing?

 

[Osam]

Tags: Kaleleon | Kelsie Sylvan | Primarch Drek'ma

A few moments of recovery behind the walls of the residence had done wonders for the remaining band of Sraelvun. It had allowed them the opportunity to reload their spikers and exchange munitions with one another as necessary. One of the Grenadiers had been running low from the run, but another had managed to strip rounds off of a fallen fellow, making up for the deficiency. A couple of those still standing had been wounded in the process of the assault, though the blows had been non-lethal. Nevertheless, they had been appreciative of the opportunity to patch at their oozing flesh as best as able. Osam had not rushed the Sraelvun forward as many of his kind had in the past but instead allowed them this brief reprieve even as he scouted ahead, attempting to discern their next move.

The sniper from atop the great structure hadn't bothered to harry them more, but the Sraelvun was certain they were still upon their perch, just barely perceptible from the streets. Clearly they were lacking in any mechanisms which allowed them to see through the walls of the residence which was why their fire had come to an end -- the Sraelvun didn't consider anything in regards to the function of their weapon, simply the inadequacies of the sniper's sighting tools.

It was apparent that they needed to await reinforcement either by the Shamans and their bestial companions or else from additional Sraelvun or Baedurin warriors. Osam genuinely hoped for the opportunity to be discovered by further tribes of drones, recognizing that the Baedurin were often less forgiving of such brief moments of reprieve. The chance at further advancement was rapidly brought to fruition with the arrival of distorted and uncanny creatures. Draeyde, but grown to such massive proportions as to allow them to function in different fashions than their minor cousins. The method of delivery utilized by the Hive Bombers had always stricken Osam as particularly grotesque.

He imagined the feeling of a dozen parasites wriggling about his own belly before bursting forth to inflict damage against his foes at the sacrifice of his own life, and the vulgarity of the creature intensified. It was difficult not to feel at least some aspect of sympathy towards the carrier as it was gutted from within, releasing Draeyde upon the unsuspecting Noghri still within the city complex. Simultaneously, a pitch-black substance was poured out, spreading throughout the battlefield and bringing both noxious fumes and seemingly impenetrable darkness. The Draelvasier could see through the vaporous addition by means of their infrared vision, but... the Noghri and the humankind defending them lacked such natural perceptiveness.

Osam peered out again from his makeshift command post, observing as several Noghri warriors were torn to utter shreds in mere moments by the circling and fierce Draeyde. He hoped that the Shamans were safely tucked away somewhere if they intended to release such a wicked weapon while allied forces were marching through the cityscape... he didn't appreciate the idea of the chiropteran monstrosities getting free of Bryn'adul control and wreaking havoc upon Noghri and Draelvasier alike.

There! The sniper was making their move, perhaps familiar with the Draeyde and their vicious assaults, or perhaps merely fleeing their perch for fear of being consumed by the vapors. With a call to arms not dissimilar to the cry of the Draeyde outside, the Major rallied his remaining twenty-odd warriors and stepped from their cover, advancing rapidly down the street. This was the perfect opportunity to gain ground and take out entrenched positions, after all, and Osam didn't know how long the fog would cover the area and afflict the inhabitants. Case in point, there was a sudden brilliance rising from above the drudgery. Though he lacked a true sense for it, Osam recognized the stench of the mystic touching the brilliance, acknowledging that it was bright in a way even the Draelvasier would be forced to notice.

He did not bother staring directly at the light, choosing instead to treat it as a star in nature. It was acknowledged, its position recognized, but it was not glared at for fear the oppressive light would scorch his eyes. Meanwhile, the sniper was still retreating, the one who had torn apart his fellow Major from afar. There was still some distance between the man-made sun and the ranged warrior, and Osam recognized that it could be exploited. "Sraelvun! Kill the sun-maker!" He called, and the raising of Spikers answered, leveling off in the general direction of the light.

With a surprising amount of unison -- it was a side-effect of the flash-training that unified actions sometimes revealed at the strangest times -- the Spikers opened fire upon the sun and presumably its creator. It was easy enough to recognize the presence of the wild animal as well, but that task was assigned to the pair of remaining Grenadiers, whose work would involve shelling the beast and keeping it far from the others.

Meanwhile, as the squadron engaged with the sun-maker, Osam glared into the indomitable darkness towards the figure of the murderous huntress. Was she Jedi as well? They were powerful warriors, weren't they... and if he seized one for himself, it would prove that he was more than just an unimportant Sraelvun Major. Hefting his own spiker in his hand, he stepped into the void, chasing after the sniper.

In the end, he didn't even need to kill her himself, he just needed to keep her in the darkness, and the Draeyde would do the rest.

Of course, the rumble of a distant engine gradually growing louder, and the strange motions whispering through the vespers of smoky darkness seemed indicative of the arrival of another foe. Gazing further into the distance, beyond the targeted sniper stood another figure, the details obscured by the significant space between them. Nevertheless, it was relatively easy to notice them flashing a light on and off again, even from there... clearly an attempt at powering up some form of hand-cannon.

Osam was not an exceptional warrior, though he was also no weakling. None of the Draelvasier race were, after all. He had the advantage of the Draeyde circling overhead and throughout the expanse of quickly emptying streets, and the ability to see his foes even through the void. Two against one was a hard fight, but perhaps if he could catch them alone and alternate between targets as necessary, he would be able to perpetrate enough violence against them so as to turn them into Draeyde food.

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

// SABER ONE // Y-Wing [Modified] // Ryv
// OBJECTIVE // Slay the dragon
// THEMATIC // Self Immolate

​

"Copy - Blue." Maynard said through the comms, blowing a heavy breath through his nose. The 'dragon' as just about everyone with eyes and a lack of any better term had sought to opt it didn't seem to stray from its course in the slightest toward the evac efforts.

"Ah hell..." Maynard let out as he slammed the thrusters forward, the star bomber pitching down from its climb and into an outright steep descent toward the dreddikkast.

"Alright man this is gonna get fucky, not gonna lie." Maynard says, before he reaches a gloved hand up to pull the targeting computer infront of his eyes - revealing a semi-transparent projection of the trajectory of the bomb bay. Making some adjustments on the on a dial on the side of the projector.

"Now if my gut's with me on this one im gonna try and- yup alrighty." Maynard said more to himself than anyone else as he pressed his thumb along the back of the joystick, squeezing down on the bomb release before he unfurled the first rack of the bomber's initial payload down toward the beast with carbonite charged proton bombs. As soon as he pressed the button his eyes shut, grasping the projectiles with a loose grip in the force he centered his focus in on them to force them into the exposed eyes along the creature in an attempt to knock it from the sky before his phase in consciousness broke and he veered the bomber up merely crucial meters away from the beast as the proton carbonite backed blasts slammed against the beast.

"Ryv get me eyes on what that did for us!" Maynard all but barks out back to the Kiffar.

---

Loske Treicolt | Ryv | Tathra Khaeus | Weyland Castril

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

ope

 

[Hrajlmak'Natok]

Location: Noghri Village
Engaging: Ghrom the Molten
Target: All Life
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It didn't take long for their flanks to be assaulted by what remained of the Noghri in this village. Them and a beast of rock that towered above any other being in the area. The group rearranged with most covering one side while Hrajlmak and a pair of other covered the other, where the rock was coming from. Hrajlmak threw out an arc of flame to keep them at bay, catching one Noghri who got too close. Hrajlmak spoke over the screams of an immolated animal.

"Hurikane? I'll be glad to finally eradicate your ridiculous species from this Galaxy!" Hrajlmak grinned through the fire. He longed for the fight, but the idea of claw to rock disappointed him. Regardless, he would single out the strong one and end his people for good. He leaped over the fire-wall, brutes following close behind. The rear flank was kept defended while himself and a few others took on the pathetic force ahead of them.

He bypassed as many natives as possible, leaving them to the Baedurin behind him. One got in the way and put up an agile fight. Armed with a primitive bludgeon the Noghri got a heavy blow to Hrajlmak's right leg, garnering a pained grunt from the Shaman before he wrapped his claws around the Noghri's forearm, pulled it close and rammed the blade of his staff through their diaphragm. The creature crumpled, leaving a gap between the Shaman and the Rock. His own six red eyes stared down the rock's beady crystals, silently coaxing him on.

 

[Reosyvern]

Equipment: None
Location: Aboard a the Venture-class Star Galleon
Objective: Reach the Venture-class Star Galleon's bridge, Aurelius Baldor
Allies: Bryn’adul
Enemies: Galactic Alliance, Aurelius Baldor

The Debaucher was easily disassembled from the underside by the weapon system of the Star Galleon. Soon the body flew away with the force of the blasts from cannons and turbolasers, though the embedded tendrils remained. Inanimate as they were, they would serve the external visual reminder of the brief space battle that took place. That is until they were removed. The organic debris cloud was dense and it was impossible to tell if any of the boarding party were aboard the Debaucher when it met its fate, though the onboard ship scanners still only detected Reosyvern. Who appeared and disappeared in a pattern whenever he left the range of the corridor sensors.

As Reosyvern leaped up the levels of the ship he grew closer and closer to his goal: the bridge. Since the Venture-class’ bridge is located on the aft of the starship and the Debaucher was only just able to clip the passing starship with it’s tendril, Reosyvern had been deposited on the mid-deck of the aft. At first he was thwarted by the blastdoors and ray shields pinning him within a segment, so he phased through the ceiling up into the next level to circumvent the counter. After a few additional decks, he was now faced with another obstacle: a ray shield cage.

“Hr-ik-ik-ik.” He growled, causing flaps on his neck that were akin to gills to vibrate fiercely. Reosyvern knew that he was running out of time and out of energy to continue to call upon the Force as he had been doing in order to get this far. His mind raced as he sunk through the floor. Ray shields could not bypass solid matter, so his only recourse was to go downwards. However, he would need to change his tactic or he would be playing this maze like game constantly. In the majority of the structures on starships there was space between decks vertically and room horizontally for utility lines and service space. It was no Reosyvern’s goal to find one of these spaces.

As he fell into the deck below that he was previously in he noted the dim flicker of lights. Lights that were often found in the service lanes; dim blues, yellows, or reds that illuminated the space to some degree. It was there that he then entered. He would not likely be lucky enough to find a vertical service shaft that went more than a deck or two upwards before coming to a hatch (which was likely sealed remotely by the time he entered), though this would prove to be insufficient to stop the Baedurin mutant as he would phase past the mundane service hatches.

Any time he met a force cage he would go down a deck, then cross into the next open space (whether that bee a room, service tunnel, or otherwise), avoiding the blastdoors entirely by not going left or right, but phasing straight through the sides of the corridors. It would take time and a lot of energy to get to the bridge, but it was apparent that Reosyvern would bypass the security measures if given the time. Though in what shape? Surely he would be significantly exhausted by physical toll of this obstacle course as well as mentally exhausted from prolonged bursts of using the Force.

 

[Kelsie Sylvan]

H O N O G H R

Tag: Osam Kaleleon Allyson Locke Primarch Drek'ma ​

---

Kelsie didn't stop moving. The CryoBan grenade had slowed the pack down a little, but not enough, and that was the least of her wor- well, it was probably the biggest worry, actually. Still, there were a bunch of other dangers around her, most prominently was the black ink in the air. It stained her clothes; from what little she could see from the light of her flashlight. As she kept moving the darkness encroached further; the ink becoming thicker and heavier, causing her to cough as she began to struggle for air. If she'd taken a deep breath earlier she might've been fine, but no, she'd just run on in, thinking she could do it, go up against something bigger than herself.

Her movement slowed, but still she forged on. This was no place to die... then again, there was never a good place to die, was there? She'd done what she could, ran until she couldn't anymore -- Kelsie stumbled as her foot nicked a rock in the road that she'd missed in the darkness. She desperately blinked the ink out of her eyes. Somebody was talking to her? She couldn't hear it. The cacophony of screeches of the Draeyde behind her had been joined by the roars of the savage Bryn'adûl drones and the battle cries of their warriors.

She mused quietly about what a Jedi might've thought in such a situation. At least the others are safe. Bantha chit. She wanted to live, desperately, to use the gift she'd been given even though so often she'd thought it was a curse. But her steps slowed further as the sounds of the Draeyde grew closer, and she stumbled, falling to her knees. One of the monsters reached her, fastest of the bunch, and tore into her shoulder; and even then it was not sated. Kelsie tried to scream, but her lungs refused; they filled with the black ink that choked her surroundings. Blood seeped into her clothing, and she felt her consciousness begin to escape her.

Through the darkness she could see no light, but the roar of a starfighter in atmosphere was unmistakable -- and quite rousing. With a flick of her wrist a vibroblade appeared in her hand and she stabbed it through the eyeless head of the Draeyde that had bit her. The creature squirmed as it died, and Kelsie felt awake again. The roar of the fighter came a second time and the ink thinned just enough for Kelsie to catch a glimpse of sky. She pushed herself to her feet, and again the fighter passed and she gasped for air. The ink just cleared enough, she could make out a shining light in the darkness and the call of a booming voice that told her to keep moving. Somehow, she did as he told; pushing herself towards the light.

The dark vapor dispersed just enough for her to make out the man's figure, but even as the ink cleared from her eyes, the pain blurred her sight, even as it pushed her to keep moving. She got close enough. Kelsie couldn't waste her breath on words now, but she gave a slight nod of thanks as she entered the area the Jedi had cleared with the Force. There was his pet, and somebody else coming towards them, but she could tell that neither of them were Bryn'adûl or their creations at a glance. No point in trying to decipher some blinking-light code. Cool shotgun though.

Of course, it wasn't over -- the Draeyde had fluttered off with the presence of new light, but the drones screamed as they rushed down the road towards them. Further away, she could hear the firing of slugthrowers or railguns or something similar. Miraculously she avoided getting hit by the first volley; they'd probably been aiming for the Jedi, but she wasn't going to risk getting hit. Kelsie hit the deck, making herself a harder target while she scrambled to reload her rifle with the hand she could still use.

 

[Kaleleon]

OBJECTIVE: A Titan stands his ground, Aid Others to the Ships
LOCATION: Honoghr, Spaceport
EQUIPMENT: Armor | Hand Cannon | Lightsaber
COMPANION: Narma, The best Girl!
ALLIES: Kelsie Sylvan Salamander Or'Fol Moric Jegy Sesara
ENEMIES: Osam Primarch Drek'ma Hrajlmak'Natok Hraelga Nacht

The light broke upwards into the sky. Igniting the area with a white light that allowed me to pierce slightly through the ink. Enough to see shapes of people, whatever they were, but not tell what they were. Without hesitating, The HUD system changed to show Infrared. Heat signatures in which I could peer through the smoke. I am so glad that the guy gave me all this cool tech to use. While I had used it on the off hand for fun, I never really used it in combat specifically. Secondly, it aided me in seeing an injured woman. The rifle she carried, sniper by the look of it, was still hot. Hot enough I could see she had dropped it and was almost hobbling to my position.

Engines soared overhead. Clearing a little of the ink slowly but surely. However, it was dense and heavy. Meaning it would take more than just a couple passes to clear it. Likely it would have to have a huge wind. I am sure a Telekinesis Master would easily be able to move the fog. Or even have some Alter Environment user just whip up some winds.

I did hear some screeching. Those who were unfortunate to look directly at the light would find burned eyes, and some started to get blisters upon their skin. Burning from the light. Like they were almost sensitive to it. Interesting.

However, I couldn't think much right now. Narma was currently growling in a direction. Looking over just in time to see multiple signatures, one massive blob of heat rising up from the ground and firing weapons. Beneath the helmet, my eyes widened. I cared not for myself, instead, reached to my belt, ripped off a projector and threw it at the woman. Likely the captain. As she was hitting the deck, a small shield formed around her. Directional shielding from energy and kinetic weapons. Bolts smacked into the shield and bounce off or were broken into whatever they were.

However, I got smacked.

half a dozen bolts I counted charged home at me. Arms, legs, chest, and even one to the faceplate of my helmet. Knocking me back almost falling backwards, but catching myself to lean forward. While the armor protected me from weapons such as Energy, and Kinetic, it could't prevent actual knockback or the impact itself from bruising me. Which will be happening in mere moments. Hand planting on the ground as I knelt low. They really wanted to keep fighting. Using the darkness to keep them from burning up.

Fine.

Once more, I gathered the light within my hand. Charging it up as I yelled.

"Aid!"

Narma closed the distance between herself, and the captain. Aiming to pick her up and render her aid. However, she was using her massive form as a secondary barrier between her and whoever came for her. Not only that, she growled at those who started to come a little too close. She was more than prepared to fight against whoever came. Roaring at their general direction. Loud enough to break eardrums if they were weak to that. However, she was being a distraction for me. Why?

I held out the light once more. The bright burning light held directly in my left hand. Acting to blind them should they look directly at me this time. Aiming at me was likely going to be difficult unless they could have UV protection of some kind, or shades. However, since the screaming of these creatures from exposure to bright lights, I had a feeling it would do more than that.

"Narma, Go home! Captain, get to the spaceport. Get it in the air now!"

 

[Ryv]

// SABER THREE // Y-Wing [Modified]
// TAGS // Maynard Treicolt
// OBJECTIVE // Pop the F*** Off
// THEMATIC // Ryv Gon' Give It To Ya
​

​

The bubble turret, manned by everyone's favorite kiffar, swiveled like a goddamn office chair spun about by a child with ADHD. Ryv aimed at the moving swarm and fired off at the creatures with little delay. His time at the sticks, under the guidance of Loske and Maynard, helped provide him the necessary experience to consider himself competent. While Ryv couldn't compete with his friends in that regard, there were areas he excelled in, which they lacked. The trio rounded one another out and provided ample room for improvement without judgment. Honestly? He couldn't ask himself for a better set of friends. Yet, he couldn't help but scowl at the duo's communications over their commlink.

"When don't things go funky, man?" Ryv posed the rhetorical question to Maynard before shifting left to release a torrent of shots into one of the beasts assailing a nearby fighter. He continued hammering down at the triggers before him while looking past the swarming enemies, seeking any of the other ships to arrive before or after them. It proved nearly impossible to catch a glimpse of anything beyond the nearest creatures, with only brief holes opening in their rapid offensive. Maynard's words stole his attention from his endeavor, and he shifted the bubble to once more face point.

Ryv pressed his hands down and craned his neck, trying to look beyond their ship and the creature's surrounding them, to ascertain the effects of their payload.

"Gotta be honest with you, chieftain, I can't see a damn thing past the giant mosquitoes and our ship, if you do me a favor and spin or something, I might see something," Ryv informed his partner in crime before dropping back into his seat. "I'm just gonna," he began before beating down on the controls once more, unceremoniously obliterating anything that drew too close to their ship. "Yeah, just gonna keep popping these dudes and hope that scored a decent enough hit."

 

[Salamander]

TAGS: Jegy Sesara Primarch Drek'ma Hrajlmak'Natok Hraelga Nacht

Heliobas arrived in time to see the dark vapor and the Draeyde within it scattering, repelled by the blinding light produced by Kaleleon to ward them. Kelsie Sylvan struggled nearby, the other warrior quickly covering her with a protective shield. He wasn't sure where Or'Fol Moric the one who had called him to this horrific scene was, but he could still act.

Gargling acid, the Shi'ido swung his monstrous head to and fro, looking for a proper target. His eyes focused in on a malevolent figure moving through the blackness. The white skin of his body hardened against the teeth of the Draeyde. He could not stretch out with the Force the way the others could, pushing them away, but he could turn his flesh as hard as steel.

He launched toward Osam , his tongue lolling out of his gaping jaws as he leveled the flesh-eating acid in his throat at the creature in the inky maelstrom. Claws on all eight legs stretched forward, intent on puncturing scaly skin.

 

[Osam]

Tags: Salamander | Kelsie Sylvan | Kaleleon | Allyson Locke | Primarch Drek'ma
Equipment: Draelvasier Kukri, Basic chestpiece and bracers, Spiker
Bullet-Type

Even as the Draeyde continued to swarm and the Sraelvun under his command began to engage with the Jedi and his pet, the Major continued his stalking through the inky black. Of course, it stuck to his own armaments and equipment as it would any other, covering him in the mildly noxious substance. It caused him no true discomfort thankfully as the odors which would normally be mildly poisonous to a human being were little more than another breathable substance for the Draelvasier.

Osam observed as one of the front-most Draeyde swooped down towards the huntress, striking her somewhere along the shoulder - collarbone line and taking a bite out of her in the process. She was quick to retaliate, spelling the death of the vicious abomination, but there would quickly be more arriving to continue the hunt. In the meantime, the Major lifted his own weapon, gazing down the sights as best he was able towards the limping and wounded figure of the sniper and preparing to extinguish her life just as he had done with so many others before.

There was no great spectacle involved in the activity, no challenging calls, or mockery surrounding his actions. He was a soldier as much as he was a warrior, and he wouldn't allow pride or glory-seeking to get in the way of an easy victory over an already stricken enemy actor. Things were never quite so simple, though...

The sound of steps and the waggling of an alien head alerted Osam mere moments before the strike came. He was not a Zealot, nor was he trained in their stealthy and sneaking way, but he had encountered them in person on several occasions and each had taught him to be more wary of his surroundings than the last. Now with even the slightest disturbance, he swung about to see what was approaching him and what level of thr-

It leaped at him, barely providing any time for reaction, he swung his spiker about haphazardly, a shot squeezing off and firing with panicked movement. He twisted about in his turn, the wretched beast managing to check his side and nearly bowl him completely over with its pounce. He scrambled back to regain his composure, glaring at the thing and immediately recognizing it as not belonging to the Bryn'adul Crusade. No, this was some form of wildlife, or else another pet of the foe. A creeping ambush creature if its actions were any indication, but it hadn't landed its initial blow. Did that put them on more level ground?

Searing pain stung at his side, and he felt the warm wetness that accompanied a wound. The creature's leap had managed to catch him just below the chest piece -- at his hip -- one of its sick claws hacking through his flesh with the momentum. It wasn't a debilitating wound by any means, but it was painful and unpleasant and it dripped blood with an uncomfortable expeditiousness.

A very rapid glance showed that the Sraelvun were still engaging with the Jedi ( Kaleleon ). His brilliant light was doing wonders to keep away the Draeyde beasts, but it was only having a marginal effect on the Sraelvun Drone forces. After all, they were not repelled by flashes of light like the nocturnal animals they utilized were, and while their aiming was harmed by the severity of the glow, it did not mean they were entirely unable to continue shooting in the general direction of their target. Spiker rounds -- superheated metal projectiles -- were excellent at shredding armor by way of kinetic force and by way of thermal property. Eventually, they would melt through the metal hide of their foe, or else cook him in his shell. In a battle of attrition, the Srael would eventually prove themselves victorious if nothing was done to halt their firepower.

Returning his full attention to the primary threat at hand, Osam began to back away, preparing to level his weapon off so as to blow a hole or eight in the hide of the beast before him. Sraelvun were often compared to animals in regards to their general savagery... perhaps they would see whether such things allowed them similar martial ability.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Equipment: Cuirass | Staff
Tags: Osam | Hrajlmak'Natok | Tathra Khaeus
Nuisances:[Engaging:] Kelsie Sylvan | Kaleleon | Allyson Locke | Salamander
Forces: Rhivaks, Brumaks, Savage Drones, Drones, Brutes, Shamans,

Those not protected by the small clearance created by the Starfighter and beaming light would be massacred. The Brutes of the 10th Regiment slaughtered their foes, whilst Savage Drones would simply numerically overwhelm the Noghri they found. The city became a den of blood and guts as the Draeyde Swarm culled street after street, bursting into buildings with no restriction; hundreds dying in seconds.

On the outskirts, the Primarch could not ignore the focused presence of the Jedi defenders that now assailed a secluded grouping of Drones. The powerful Primarch would direct what forces he could spare toward the source. Including himself

When their forces arrived, pushing forth from the black out into the open; the Primarch raised his Staff; using the force orb at its helm as a catalyst for absorption; syphoning from the blinding light sufficiently enough to hinder its ability to blind their forces. His assistant Shamans would direct four Rhivaks to fire their powerful plasmatic beams at the smaller mount protecting the armoured Jedi. The hyper agile and massive Rhivaks would dart around quickly, to attack from multiple sides whilst the slower Brumaks continued to move to reach a suitable range.

The Brutes of the 10th would ready their weapons to fire, but would remain focused on the Noghri forces; their spike rounds - used by all Bryn'adûl Military combatants would tear through flesh and armour like butter. With the Primarch's free hand, he would halt the beat of the Albino Voxyns heart, stunning it temporarily or perhaps just enough to make it easy prey.

It was clear its hide was too strong for the Draeyde, but the molten infused spikes that would come from the weaponry of the Brutes was another matter entirely.

 

[Aurelius Baldor]

Equipment: BAW-56, BAW-57, Mono-edge cutlass
Ships: The Dervish WR-542 Shooting Star, Venture-class Star Galleon, squadron of assorted light freighters
Objective: Help evacuation efforts, Eliminate onboard threat
Allies: Galactic Alliance, Jend-Ro Quill
Enemies: Bryn’adûl, Reosyvern

​

With the Debaucher mostly detached, Aurelius turned on the holo-communicator, once again sending a broadcast to the Alliance. "Now that that big bastard is dealt with, can I be of any further assistance? My hull has been punctured and there's a beastie aboard, but it'll be dealt with shortly." Aurelius was unsure if he should go any farther: the Debaucher was a close call enough, and he could tell just from the scanners that things were far worse planetside. If he was being honest, he would prefer to jump out of the system and leave the Bryn behind.

"It's still trying to get through the ship, and it looks like its coming for us!"

Aurelius switched the BAW-56 into gunslinger mode, hoping the increased stopping power would offer him an advantage if he had to fight whatever was crawling around inside his ship. "Keep trying, it's gotta get tired eventually." He gritted his teeth, awaiting a response from the Jedi organizing the relief even as the beast made its way through the ship. Would he be able to kill it if it got to the bridge? His guards got into positions around the room where they would have a clear shot if it phased through the door or came up through the floor.

Down on the surface, things were even more hectic than the dance with death that occurred in orbit. A third of the freighters had been destroyed by Bryn craft before they could touch down, leaving eight of them to evacuate whatever civilians and Jedi they could. Half of them broke off to evacuate some of the smaller villages while the other four closed in on bigger population centers, searching for those in need of rescue. Most of them had scanners that didn't rely on solely visual detection, and exterior lights are a common fixture on many freighters.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Equipment: Sword | Long-Axe | Shield | Sun Quaker | Barricas Oil | Armour |
Mount: The Dreddikast Beast
Theme: X

When the Jedi Fighters came for him once more, he first noticed the foremost vessel and clearly the most inexperienced as dozens of Phedrak chased the lone X-Wing through the miasma of fire and Ra'maks. The Dreddikkast lurched forward and spun, a spiral of its wings propelling it forward like a spinning blade as it cut through more of the evacuation shuttles. Ripples of flame hid the Dreddikkast momentarily as Tathra pulled the chains left, shooting downward and into the trajectory of the lone X-Wing, its blade like tendrils attempting to slash through the X-Wing as the Phedrak were destroyed behind it.

Above, it appeared the Bombers were making another go of it. A valiant effort. It didn't matter who won this battle in the sky, they'd all be forced to the ground eventually. But he'd make it hurt first. Another X-Wing came barrelling toward him, and before Tathra could even think the X-Wing had throttled to a stop and flung itself overhead.

As if on instinct the Dreddikkast twirled in place, one of its six wings on the side of Loske's X-Wing striking the Baradium Jedi Bomb, the other five attempting to strike the Jedi X-Wing as they passed each other, Tathra and the Pilot seemingly exchanging glances as Tathra slashed in the X-Wings direction mid-air, a second red wave of violent kinetic energy flung directly toward the upper half of the X-Wings cockpit.

At the same time, the Carbonite bombs came crashing down from above; likely also striking the Jedi's X-Wing as seemingly six proton bombs struck all along the length of the length of the Dreddikast, some of its eyes were destroyed; others along with its wings were temporarily frozen. The kinetic thump of the explosion slammed Tathra against the creatures hide, barely holding onto both his Axe; his right arm holding the reigns had been consumed in the carbonite freezing, holding its neck in place as the beast descended.

The Dreddikkast fell steeply toward the forest just beyond the city battlefield. The wind made everything shake, his shielded eyes halted the slashed of the wind as he maintained a sense of balance even as they spiralled downward toward the surface. The Titan struck at the largest chunk of carbonite, the strange material stung at his skin, roaring as the beast twisted through the air; with great effort he tore his right arm from the carbonite. The heat of his blood and skin keeping his arm from freezing just long enough to pry himself free.

Tathra pulled upward with the reigns as they narrowly avoid the tree line. The Dreddikkast glided over the battlefield before crashing through several buildings, coming to a halt as several buildings were crushed into rubble as the grand creature grinded to a halt. The Titan was thrown from the saddle, tumbling through the rubble several metres; crimson paws digging into the rock and dirt to halt his movement.

TAGS
Galactic Alliance - Maynard Treicolt | Loske Treicolt | Ryv | Weyland Castril | Romi Jade | Allyson Locke |

The Bryn'adûl - Hrajlmak'Natok | Reosyvern | Osam | Primarch Drek'ma

 

[Salamander]

Heliobas gouged deep scratches in Osam with his claws before he slid off the creature, snarling in anger. He should have struck harder, wounding the Sraelvun more severely, but what was done was done.

Turning, his eight legs pawed at the ground as he prepared to attack again. Osam was backing away, preparing to shoot. If he could avoid being riddled with bullet holes, Heliobas would move—

But a tightening in his chest prevented him. His body began to feel slow and sluggish, then stunned and paralyzed. He couldn’t move, couldn’t get out of the way, nor could he skinshift in time to prevent damage from occurring. His connection to the Force was feeble, and there was simply no time. He could only rely on the toughness of the form he had taken, and hope that the spike rounds didn't hit any major organs...

Kelsie Sylvan Kaleleon Allyson Locke Primarch Drek'ma

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Honoghr // x01-Skywalker Class // JTSP // Grounded
Strike team objective: Go for The Head
Going down in flames ​

The lightfight around the dragon was overwhelming. Rightfully, all the starfighters unleashed salvo after salvo against the multi-eyed and winged creature. It took everything she could just to maintain a hovering position above the creature, dipping and weaving it's wild wingspan that beat with almost seismic power.

Something screeched in Saber Five's helmet, and fire started to consume her instrumentation. A brilliant stream of scarlet energy exploded from the Chieftan below. MOVE! Frank bellowed in a synthetic replication of horror - but the torrential winds from the dragon prevented the maneuverability she needed for self preservation.

"Aaugh!"

The energy seared through her port engine and wings, igniting the gas within. The engine blew apart, taking controls and stabilizing elements with it. Immediately she dipped to the left and tilted downward, suspended for only a moment that let her realize what happened. Unable to compensate, the out-of-control X-wing began a long, erratic plunge to the surface.

We've lost the left engine and wing. Attempting to stabilize -- Frank updated from the back, dutifully loyal. His stoically indifferent robotic voice was like a tonic to counter the girl's panic.

On the way down, her ship battered randomly with the colossal wingspan (or the wind it caused) of the demon dragon. Each strike was jarring, and slammed her forward and back. She'd never been hit (and definitely not like this) before, and her focus was all over the place. While Frank tried to modify the amount of power to the engines that remained on the right side, she was trying to reroute the shields to the nose. The nose would hit first.

What was left of the X-wing crashed to the dusty surface below, the nose penetrating through rises of sand and huts. Inside, the pilot vibrated and bounced around - strapped down only by the webbing. The noise of going down was surprisingly astounding, and she reflexively brought her hands up to cover her face when the gasteel viewports shattered and the cooling system combusted, along with everything else.

The pressure of the collision caused her neck to whiplash, and she bounced like a rag doll - constrained only by the fiery metal coffin. Sand, smoke, and fire raced into the cockpit eagerly now that the windows were blown out. When it finally came to a stop, the ship was on it's left side. Whatever was left of the right side pointed up to the skies where it had come from. A spiral of smoke and debris in her wake was a testimony to her route to the ground.

She would have passed right the feth out if the searing heat hadn't been so overwhelming. With a gasp, she struggled to unclip herself from the restraints and wearily searched for any information on Frank's status she could see. There was no point. Her system had been eaten by electric combustion from the inside - her dashboard little better than a sludge gargling mass. When she tried to touch it, she had to yowch! her hands back in burning shock.

Groggily, she crawled forward and out the viewport of the downed X-Wing. Part of the left side was buried in sand so she ended up amidst the golden grains pretty quickly. It ached to move and her Acumen HUD gave a scrawl of her vitals. Bruised lungs, and left shoulder where the impact had happened. The same shoulder that had almost been torn right off last time she'd fought the Bryn'adûl. The thermoguard protected her from being incinerated alive inside the cockpit. The temperature regulator in her suit kicked up a notch to counter the fire that surrounded her, and the kinetic absorption the only reason she hadn't crushed every single rib in her body. Pained by the notion of crawling, she grabbed a fistful of sand to help drag her forward with a groan and focused on trying to regulate her aches while she rolled to her side to look at the fiery mess that used to be her ship. Blood from her forehead, where the helmet had pressed too hard against her skin during the crash, ran down her face and vignetted her vision. Similar cuts were sliced into her cheeks and neck. Other lacerations, not from the suit itself but the glass and metal, evidenced in the lesser reinforced areas of her armour. "Frank?"

On cue, there was a distinct pop sound, and the astromech ejected from his spot and above and away from the flames. He also landed on his would-be face, before little bits of blue flame on his sides helped maneuver him upright again. Satisfied with that, she rolled to her back and looked above her. That monster had landed.... the dragon roared and she snapped her attention up, a surge of adrenaline helping her scramble to her feet.

With a gasp, she tore her helmet from the neck of the suit to free herself and choke on the smokey air around her, coughing and hacking on the assault to her lungs while stomping forward and away from the crash site, foolishly toward the titan where the dead earth turned into something more alive and forresty.

Spoiler

Good Guys: Ryv // Maynard Treicolt // Romi Jade // Weyland Castril // Allyson Locke // Kelsie Sylvan // Kaleleon // Aurelius Baldor // Salamander

Very scary bad guys: Tathra Khaeus // Primarch Drek'ma // Osam // Hrajlmak'Natok // Reosyvern

 

[Weyland Castril]

Wearing: Jedi Strike Armour, Shield
Carrying: Lightsaber
In: X-01 Starfighter
Strike Team: Allyson Locke | Loske Treicolt | Maynard Treicolt | Ryv | Romi Jade
Target: Tathra Khaeus

His lack of practice in the cockpit nearly claimed his life. In a sudden flash, the broadside of his X-Wing had been slashed nearly in half, one set of his wings had been struck. His mind wanted to scream, instinctively retracting himself from them mind meld as to not distract anyone.

Weyland gritted his teeth, fighting to regain control; his accompanying astromech had lost its head when the dragon had struck the ship. The Jedi Knight didn't know much about X-Wings or how to fly, but he'd went over the interior settings nigh a hundred times with Maynard and Loske. Even as the ship spun out of control toward the ground; Weyland used the force to focus himself. He pulled up a schematic of the ship, the small diagram flashing red toward the rear end of the ship. The X-Wing had lost all power to its engines.

He'd had to reroute the power. Its not like he was gonna be able to do much with one set of cannons and half of his ship's weaponry gone. For a moment the Jedi struggled to remember, trying to catch his breath before he crashed and didn't have any lungs to breath from. With a final click, the weapons went entirely offline and the thrusters of the X-Wing burst to life, carrying him forward even with just one wing. There was no way to avoid landing, but at least now he could somewhat control his descent.

The forge urged him to look up, the great beast came crashing down following the grand sound of a large set of explosions. Though that was not his focus, his heart could feel the distress of his fellow Jedi. With no reservation for himself, the Jedi Knight's X-Wing blasted off in the direction of the two nearby crash sights.

He could see the crashed X-Wing, and the Dragon; they were right beside each other! His heart skipped a beat, she was alone down there with him. And she was here because of him. Weyland had no choice. Full ramming speed ahead, the smoking X-Wing plummeted toward the Titan. Weyland braced himself for the crash.

 

[Ghrom the Molten]

Location: A Noghri village far side of the Continent
Action: Evacuation
Opposition: Hrajlmak'Natok

Two hours before the Bryn' attack
​

Crystal stalagmites and stalactites hung and rose from the depth of underground cavern he had been led to. As they walked the Noghri chanted prayers of forgiveness in hopes not to be claimed by the place. As he walked on a chief spoke up and told him to halt. He stood before a pool of still green glowing water, at the far end an ancient metallic tank, scorched and split open in the side.

"That is an omen, a piece of the "hulk" that fell from the sky. It spewed green poison that would cause flesh to burn and bone to melt."

"Show me" Ghrom repeated.

The chief waved for one of the young to come forward. From a cage it produced a fuzzy animal of some type. Taking it from the cage they threw it into the murky waters. At first the creature just swim but soon it was it was screeching and writhing in pain. Seconds after that its's skin began to bubble, then burn before it dissolved unto the green muck.

Present time
​

"Hurikane? I'll be glad to finally eradicate your ridiculous species from this Galaxy!"

Ghrom needed to coxing, no bait. If he had blood it would be boiling, a fire that glowed in his crystal eyes. He began summing the powers of Erebus's Pact he began to drain the life from all around him, both friend and foe alike, he didn't care for the Noghri what fought with him, they were dead anyway. Quick and strong willed their flesh was weak, they to far years to be useful to their people anymore. Now they would power his rage, as would the hateful power of this enemy that he pulled power from.

As he rose up to meet Hrajlmak, the power of the dark side flowing into him from those around him that now suffered. From his back he pulled a great hammer. The Hammer of God... With it he would split the armor of these reached vermin.

"Come then beast, best me if you can, survive if I let you..."