Dominion Cleansing Storm | TSO Dominion of Ertrax and Pitann

[Lirka Ka]

The Storm rumbled forward.

The bout upon Ryoone had been but a start. The thunder before lightning struck, Darklight and the Third Legion were already on the move once more. Their mission was successful, even if there had been bumps in the road. A new world added to the fold, now came a time for the next aspect of their charge.

Reclamation.

Ertrax, a world long since in the dominion of the Sith since the empire was still in but a fledgling state. A world marred in the days when Kainite and Eternalist brawled. Yet such a thing was a distant memory now, the Ertraxi had been given the means to rebuild after the Malsheem's ravaging. To rise again in the glory of the Empire.

And then, planeshift.

Ertrax was cast asunder, flung across space to where it now sat. Distant, cold, away from the guiding dark light of the Sith. The Third arrived with the rumble of the Darklight's storm generator once more, a roving band of vessels formed from the many worlds of the Empire - of which Ertrax had been exempt, due to those technicalities of cosmic calamity. It should have been a moment of triumph, of the lost brought back into the fold.

It was not.

Perhaps it did not come to much surprise that a people so ravaged by the Sith in the past did not speak kindly to the notion of returning to the fold. Chaos-bringers, they shouted. Sinful slaves of disorder, they jeered. Ertrax's absence had been brief, but in that brief time something had changed. The world had been rebuilt, once more. Buildings arrayed in perfect symmetry, the scars of war disappeared in remade earth, in many ways - Ertrax had been reformed into an orderly paradise by something, and the Ertraxi had no intent of returning to the way things were.

A veritable army had risen up from the world, those who had once waved the banner of the Empire now stood side by side with warriors of bizarre and alien make. Yet, it mattered little. They stood against the storm now, and they would be washed away. The Imperator raised her hand, as the massive form of Darklight slowly descended into the low atmosphere - blocking out the sun.

The clawed hand clenched to a fist. A command, wordless, and absolute: death.

Objective I: Hellfire and Brimstone
Armies are arrayed, the Ertrax defense force stands ready to meet the Sith armada. A locust swarm of landing craft have burst from the Third's armada, the command of Imperator Ka was simple. All that stand against the Storm are to be washed away, crush the interlopers, burn their world, the beauty of what has been made here stands against the will of Empyrean's great Empire - it is a culture that no longer can be allowed to exist. Flak roars into the sky as landing craft make headway for fortifications that lay outside the main city blocks, a vast network of geometric trenches gorged into the ground - the legions of defenders, moving in perfect lockstep within. Kill under the vast shadow of Darklight, press on to the main Ertraxi settlement. The Imperator's commands are quite clear, leave nothing in your wake

Objective II: Mystery of the Void
It is not any meager force that can remake the world, while the Third Legion is prepared to burn Ertrax back down to smouldering ash and start anew - such wanton destruction means the mysteries of Ertrax's rebirth will be lost to the storm. Dash your way through the maddening symmetry of Ertrax's city, uncover what you can, see if within this hellscape there lies the information of what could possibly hold the power to reshape a world - before your fellows destroy it all. The interwoven architecture of maddening symmetry that makes up Ertax city hides many dangers, locals less than pleased with the Legion's presence, automated defenses, and labyrinthine layouts to confuse and distract. Yet, to the keen eye all paths lead to the center of the city. To a great structure that seems to have been stabbed into the earth itself - it doesn't take a genius detective to know, if anything is going to be uncovered about what happened on Ertrax. It is likely there.

 

[Darth Strosius]

Objective: 2 Determine the Cause
Equipment: Lightsaber - Sword - Dagger - Robes
Tags: Open!
--------------------------------------------

Ertrax was not a world notable in its disposition as the Third Legion's fleet arrived in its lost system, their hostility and aggression was simply to be expected given the circumstances. Given a meager sliver of liberty from Sith rule only for it to end far sooner than any on the world would have liked. Any save for whatever loyal holdouts or individuals remained on the planet, if any at all did by this point. Their defiance wasn't what drew attention, rather it was their capability to uphold it.

All other worlds rediscovered thus far had been in total disarray in one form or another for the most part, losing access to trade routes and neighboring worlds meant isolated populations and so few of them were self sufficient enough to stave off the loss of such access. Unlike the majority however, Ertrax had not wilted since it was cast away from Sith space. Rather it had flourished. Entire cities had sprouted up and been rebuilt since the last point of contact with the Sith Order, not to mention unusual and foreign warriors and defensive emplacements to guard them.

Ertrax had blossomed in the relatively brief time between loss and rediscovery and clearly they had not done so on their own.

Darth Strosius could attest to that fact, He had seen firsthand what the vile Malsheem had wrought upon the world and it seemed as though the Kainite's Imperator sought now to level it once more. Whatever or whomever had uplifted Ertrax from the ashes had left some clues in their wake but none more obvious and potentially useful as the great structure jutting forth from the convergence of the capital city's infrastructure. It's heart was something alien and the Third Legion would tear it out, of that He was certain.

As such navigating the fields of anti-air batteries was a necessity before any significant damage was caused to it. Despite the loud, uncomfortable, and definitely dangerous ride that such an assault entailed. Darth Strosius gritted His fangs together as the Shyrack veered underneath an arch to avoid gaining another glancing blow on one of its already damaged wings, muttering a silent prayer that they didn't wind up crashing into one of the buildings like one of the other gunships had just a few moments ago.

"They're blitzing a warpath through the city's main defenses but they can't spare a few artillery rounds for these fething flak guns?!" His frustrated remark garnered no real answer from the pilot nor from the troopers which were clinging onto their seats for dear life next to the masked Sith. A stance which Darth Strosius briefly joined them in as the gunship rolled to avoid what sounded like a missile of some kind. "Oh forget this." He unbuckled the straps keeping Him in His seat and marched across to the nearest blast door.

"My lord what are-" The trooper's captain was hushed by his subordinates as their Prophet wrapped one hand around a spare handle near the door while the other pulled it open, revealing the buildings and turrets that they flew over and past as they weaved through the seemingly unending clouds of fire. His free hand crackled with violet lightning as His visored gaze scanned the rapidly passing scenery, soon locking onto what appeared to be some sort of battery or capacitor for the next defensive emplacement that they were about to fly over.

A storm of amethyst bolts struck out from His fingertips and impacted the capacitors, surging them well beyond their limits until finally they overloaded and exploded in a brilliant azure cloud. An overload which traveled up the wires and conduits powering the defensive array which shut off almost instantly, allowing the Shyrack to pass over unscathed and unbothered. "Keep us low and near the guns, I'll clear a path to that damn building." He called to the pilot as His fingers arced with lightning once more.

 

[Andrial Madon]

Location: Etrax - Objective 1
Tags: Open

Her skull ached from within, a distinct ringing echoing, blocking out all external sound as Andrial's gaze stared up at the clouds above as the blast of anti-air batteries lit up the sky as if they were fireworks being fired in celebration of something...Very lethal and loud fireworks. Flames roared around her as she tried to force air within her lungs, her entire body aching. The embrace of unconsciousness trying to sink its claws into her as she fought against the growing darkness coming to the side of her vision. She refused to lose control of herself. To let It take control in a moment of vulnerability as Andrial's hand reached out for her sword, using it to help herself up to her feet.

Why had she even came to this planet? It didn't help her in her goals. She needed knowledge. She needed to figure out how to stop these Spirit inside of her from wrestling control. Yet here Andrial was, stood amongst the wreckage of her shuttle, bodies strewn across the ground. At the very least, Andrial was much more hardy than she gave herself credit for her as Andrial turned her gaze to her arm that hung limply at her left side. She took her sword and plunged it into the ground to keep it stood up, before reaching over to her left shoulder, gritting her teeth as she shoved the joint back into place. A jolt of pain rushing through her system, as Andrial then reached for her sword once more, resting it atop her shoulder. Pain was good. Pain kept her in control for now. It wouldn't last forever but it would do. For now.

As a bolt of plasma screeched through the sky, Andrial raised her blade up to catch the bolt. It didn't deflect it like a Lightsaber would, but that wasn't what Andrial wanted. Lightsabers were far too...clinical. Surgical. Her gaze moved from the blade to the Ertrax defenders that had fired in her direction as she let out an exasperated sigh. Andrial wasn't a heartless killer. She wasn't someone who'd tear through innocents just because she could. That corruption hadn't seeped into her being yet. But they had fired on her first. Twice in fact. With her shuttle that went down and now? She was well within her right to march onwards and cut through them as Andrial's lips curled into a small smirk, a small fangy tooth showing itself as Andrial prepared to let loose.

Her technique was not refined. It was not perfected. She did not fight with the refined grace of a Sith trained in an ancient combative art, nor did she show the surgical skill of one trained to exploit the weaknesses of their foes. No. Instead she fought as if she was an axe cleaving her way through the defenders. She'd hack, she'd crush and she'd slash her way through the defenders. The shuttle had crashed a fair bit away from the landing point and well...she didn't want to arrive too late to where the rest would be landing. It was time for her to kick her work up a gear.

​

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Another command post..."

Tag - OPEN



The storm had arrived.

From her perch atop the obsidian dais that served as a forward command post, Darth Virelia watched the battle unfold through a translucent hololith spanning half the war table. Geometric trenches blinked with flak signatures and pulsing defense grids, each new detonation blooming on the projection like black blossoms on a charred vine. The Ertraxi moved in perfect lockstep, each maneuver more elegant than the last—as if war itself were a sacred geometry to them, a purity in lines and angles.

How quaint.

She stood motionless amidst the chaos of strategium officers and tactical artificers, a statue cast in sovereign wrath. Tyrant's Embrace clung to her like a skin of predatory divinity, its every edge whispering menace and mastery. The glow from the hololith danced across the armor's reflective planes, bathing her in shifting hues of violet and bloodred, as though the war itself worshipped her.

The cape draped from her back swayed like a blade poised to fall.

"Sector F has begun counterbattery maneuvers," one officer barked, gesturing to a patch of the city's outer ring now pulsing with defensive artillery fire. "Twelve batteries, auto-synced targeting—our frontal dropships won't make it through unless—"

"Unless we re-task the Hollowfangs," Virelia cut in, voice cold, smooth, and bored. "I know."

She didn't raise her head. She didn't need to.

Her mask gleamed like the surface of a black star, the six violet eyes flickering one by one in an arc across the holochart—each movement calculating, predatory, inhuman. One hand slowly unfurled from its place upon the table's edge. Taloned fingertips hovered just above the projection, tapping twice upon a crescent-shaped ridge of fortifications.

"Route the second armor wave through here. They're focusing on the river choke—use it. Burn it dry. Then sweep northeast along the spires. I want the Ertraxi lines shattered like old glass. No survivors. No infrastructure. Make them ghosts again."

"Yes, Arch-Commandant."

Virelia's helm turned slightly, regarding the officer through unreadable lenses. She didn't speak. Just watched. He bowed more deeply, almost involuntarily, and backed away with the haste of one who had stared too long into a void and seen his reflection smile.

The command post vibrated subtly as another flare rippled through the Darklight's core. The generator's thrum was ever-present now, a low, infinite heartbeat echoing across the barren plains of Ertrax. Thunder cracked overhead, but there was no lightning—only the shadow of the warship, blotting out the sky like a goddamn judgment.

This, she thought, is what they will remember. Not the Eternalist stagnation. But this. The return.

She turned her gaze to a side monitor—a live feed from a gun-cam descending toward one of the trench networks. Ertraxi defenders moved like living mathematics: perfect synchrony, eerily silent, armored in white and gold and strange luminescence. Something had uplifted them during their absence. Something outside the Empire's vision. Alien technologies, perhaps. A new god. A dangerous idea.

No matter. Ideas bled the same.

She flexed her fingers, claws glinting as the runes along her vambrace pulsed to life in response. Her body thrummed with power held in check—not merely the Force, but command, structure, intellect. It was not enough to be mighty. One had to be right. One had to be inevitable.

This campaign—this reclamation—was no mere conquest. It was her crucible. And she could feel it: every maneuver, every dead trench soldier, every hololith adjustment taught her something. She was learning to speak in the language of total war.

Not the pathetic skirmishes of Sith Lords bickering over temples and tombs. Not the fragile ideologies of rebels with slogans and blaster packs.

This was a machine. A system. And she was its heart.

"I want orbital relays focused on the enemy's backline staging yards," she intoned, stepping down from the dais. Her voice echoed across the command floor like silk across steel. "Give me continuous telemetry on thermal build-up. If they're storing fuel or exotic munitions, I want to see the eruption from here."

"And if they're not?"

"Then we make them erupt," she purred, walking past. "Pressure enough pipes and even angels bleed."

 

[Sai'vhaela]

Location: Ertrax
Objective: Hellfire and Brimstone
Mission Objective: Signal Disruption Kill

• Silence the Flute Engine.

Tag: Open

Ertrax was a mystery. Conquered by the Empire during the conflict between the Kainate and the Eternalists, the world had been flung from Sith space during the Planeshift, severed for a time, from the Empire. During that brief period, the world had not been merely reconstructed, but transcended. Its cities had been redeveloped in perfect mathematical harmony, while the buildings within were constructed in such a fashion that they were eerily symmetrical. Any lingering imperfections, whether they were scars from old conflicts or even historical sites that could not be forced into flawless alignment had been excised like cancerous tissue.

For her part, Sai’vhaela admired the perfection of the new Ertraxian culture. She hoped that the entity responsible for remaking the world might not be wholly destroyed, but instead, studied. And thereafter, its knowledge recast to serve the Sith Dyarchy. Unfortunately, the fate of the entity that had cast Ertrax anew was not for her to decide.

But perhaps if she proved herself here, she might be allowed to make a case for its preservation.

The briefing that Sai’vhaela had received several hours prior had reported the presence of a semi-sentient, biotechnological sonic command unit within the Ertraxian lines that “sang” troop commands in musical sequences, allowing the Ertraxian defenders to maneuver with perfect, lag-free synchronicity. The Shikkari (and potentially others) had been tasked with silencing it, with the aim of ruining the flawless coordination of the Ertaxian defense. A coordination which had already seen several assaults repulsed, an entire squad’s worth of shuttles shot down before they could reach their landing zones, and half of an armor platoon annihilated by surgically accurate, ultra-responsive artillery fire.

The briefing had referred to it as the Flute Engine.

Crouched just behind the remains of a downed walker—the designated rendezvous point for the operation— Sai’vhaela scanned the Ertraxian lines through her rifle’s scope. A sharp gasp escaped from her lips as she took in the white and gold-armored Ertraxian troopers moving in what she could only assess as flawless synchrony, their forms seemingly dancing through blaster fire without breaking formation.

Such perfection in motion almost made her hesitant to pull the trigger.

Fortunately, for the moment, Sai’vhaela did not strictly need to fire. Instead, the Jango Jumper allowed herself a deep breath, before lowering her rifle and turning back towards the entrance to the downed walker.

If the others did not arrive soon, the responsibility of taking out the Flute Engine would be hers alone to bear.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Gloomdancer Veil
  
  • Arms
    
    • FAE/M-02 Energized Gauntlet Vibroblade - R
    • Lacera - Sith Lanvarok - L
      
      • Ammunition
        
        • 30 Disc Magazine (4)
          
          • Neuranium Disc - Void Stone Treatment
• Gloomstriker
  
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-100x FAE/S-08 Electro-Scope
    • Silencer
    • Bipod
  • Ammunition
    
    • FAE/AM-01-S4 Energy Weapon Cartridge - Ethaerium X Gas and CryoBan Coolant (8)
• Gloomripper Crescents
• Siqsa-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Obscuration Canister (4)

 

[Lirka Ka]

OBJECTIVE I
TAGS: OPEN Darth Virelia Andrial Madon Sai'vhaela

Lirka was the speartip, always. She didn't allow it any other way, she was not the sort of commander-of-men that dawdled in command posts or analyzed over holotables, she was a blade that drove through the meat of the foe surrounded by the fires of battle. She liked to think it made her endearing to the troops, though realistically it mattered little either way. Lirka Ka fought because it was a holy venture, to enter the killing fields and see if one was still worthy to keep existing.

As she careened down to the earth aboard a gunship, she looked out to the burning skies that gleamed in the false-twilight cast upon this world by the massive form of the Darklight above, blotting out much of the world's sun, Lirka felt rather confident that today was not to be the day she died. Nay, this was to be work. But it did pay to enjoy your work, so Lirka Ka did as she always did - she preached, she raved, and she assailed the Sith-Imperial comm networks with another thunderous speech.

"Look out upon this rabble, my fellows! Look at what happens to those who stray outside our glorious Blackwall! Those who were once our brothers and sisters, loyal servants of the Empire now walk in lockstep as if they are no better than droids - loyal servants turned the most wretched of traitor! We are saviors today, Warriors, we are the chainbreakers that shall free Ertrax from that which bounds this world! The Ertraxi shall be freed from their idiocy, they shall be freed from that which has corrupted them, they shall be freed once every soldier lay dead, and every building lay burning!"

She ended it as she always did, a rallying cry for her Third. A declaration of intent.

"Ain' od'linel t'lor - glory to the strong!"

Around her, landing craft burst to flames, some would make planetfall and disgorge their murderous cargo - the worthy would place boots to earth and fight in the name of the Empire. Those unworthy souls would die burning in the wreckage of their craft while the worthy would dig themselves from muck and mire to fight on. It was why war, even one as small as this, reminded Lirka of true beauty. The hyper-violence of warrior meritocracy manifest...of course, it certainly helped that the Sith-Imperials had quite the advantage with the armada overhead. Placing a hand to the side of her head, Lirka sent out a comm message to one of the vessels above. She gave a simple, devastating, command.

"STRIKE!"

A blast of crimson from the sky as a Turbolaser blasted into the earth below, a fiery explosion and a rolling dustcloud in its wake that left a hearty crater in its wake - certainly, they could have bombarded the place to ruin before a single Sith-Imperial boot had hit the ground. But that accomplished little, the Legion need battle, they needed a true test. Lirka would give them one.

Finally, through the dust, the Imperator's lander hit the ground with a thud. Glowing emerald slit-lenses shined through the storm as she took to the field, gazing over the growing killing ground with contentment. Then, she was off. Blade in hand, she danced her way through bizarre aliens unseen and Ertraxi alike. Limbs flying in the air and shattered corpses crashing into trenchlines - all the while, the beautiful instrumental whistling of death sailed through the air as their foes struck with binaric precision.

Yes, Lirka certainly needed to snap that flute. A blur of black metal, half-cape billowing in her wake, the Imperator made for the collapsed form of one of their walkers. She'd read the casualty reports later - and see just how much scrap would be left to throw at the dear Helix for "recycling"

Without much fear for the blasters that flew all around them, the Once-Sephi slammed into the walker with a mighty thud to finally stop her momentum. Rising from her bestial advance like the proper metal monster she was, lenses immediately turning to the form of Sai'vhaela as Lirka brought a metal fist to where her hearts might have been with a thud. Her classic salute.

"Warrior."

Now, it was time to see who else could reach the rally point with most of their limbs still intact.

 

[Helix]

Objective I: Hellfire and Brimstone
Equipment: Himself
Tags: Lirka Ka /OPEN​

Helix's form flickered as a burst of blaster fire spattered across it. The glowing craters in his metal skin briefly rippled; then reformed. Small arms fire. Ineffective. It would take far more of that than the defenders had to harm him.

He lifted one hand, forming a long, glimmering javelin of his own flesh. A flash, and it flew through the air into the defending lines with the force of an artillery strike. The 3-meter long spear plowed unstoppably through foe after foe, piercing armor, flesh, bone, and cover with equal contempt.

The weapon separated into its composite nanites, fluttering back to the main colony like a swarm of insects. Tedious butchery, this, but he still got to feel fresh blood on his compound skin.

The Imperator's command had been a clear one, leaving very little room for leeway or interpretation. All were to be exterminated. His troops left nothing breathing. Sapient, animal, even most of the vegetation was put to the torch. Reeking clouds of chemical weaponry flooded through the streets ahead of them, melting buildings and soldiers alike.

It was grunt work, the same sort of chores he always wound up doing. Part of him chafed that, despite his new and lofty position, it always seemed to fall to him to do this sort of thing. The other part thoroughly enjoyed a break from tedious paperwork and endless upper-brass meetings. He let loose a dramatic approximation of a sigh. Such was the curse of the expert: one never got promoted out of doing what they were good at. The colony's demeanor was visibly pouty as he chewed a bloody path through the locals.

The nano-host whipped out a long, sinuous metal coil, seizing one of the enemy soldiers in the line by the leg. Helix felt bone snap under his grip, but that was fine. He didn't need his new toy intact, just alive. Despite the fellow's allies hacking at the glistening metal tendril in an attempt to free their comrade, the officer was drawn inexorably toward the colony, kicking, screaming, shooting. More blaster fire stitched fist-sized holes in Helix's form, some large enough to see daylight through. He didn't react, or seem especially inconvenienced, too occupied with playing with his food.

When he'd at last wrangled his intended prey forward, the colony dropped his pretense of being limited to humanoid form. The nanites quickly spread, engulfing the struggling man and rapidly shredding him to nothing at the molecular level. Helix languidly read his genetic code like one might flip through a holobook at a physician's office. A hereditary propensity for high cholesterol. Unfortunate. Really, he'd done the nameless fool a favor.

For all their seeming technological advancement, they were still flawed, stagnant meat underneath. Scared, ordinary smallfolk who mistakenly thought that their machinery would save them from the grinding advance of the Sith. This... mess around him was simply the sort of corrective exercise he had doled out on many planets by now.

Their choice had been to surrender and ensure slavery, or resist and ensure extinction. They had selected the latter. He figured he'd have chosen the same, in their shoes, but then, he'd never be stupid enough to place himself in that position to begin with.

That flicker of understanding was as much consideration as Helix gave them. Razor-edged clumps of nanites whistled out from the colony's form, swiftly breaking down those they touched before returning to the main body. Helix kept some of them, and his form grew larger and larger as it gorged itself on stolen matter.

Helix normally restrained his potential for growth somewhat. In theory, he could simply eat the planet out from under them, given time, but what fun was that? This was where he belonged, rending flesh and breaking bone with his own two hands, or whatever other weapons he chose to manifest at the time. If he was going to be stuck pressing the line and salting the earth, he was determined to enjoy it. There was a simple pleasure in being master of one's craft, after all.

Those who were once our brothers and sisters, loyal servants of the Empire now walk in lockstep as if they are no better than droids - loyal servants turned the most wretched of traitor!

"I will try not to take offense at that statement, Imperator." He replied calmly over the command network. "Nonetheless, I see your point. Mere drones, these. They break so easily."

 

[Andrial Madon]

Location: Ertrax - Objective 1
Tags: Open

The stench of chemical weapons was clear for most to be able to smell. Unfortunately for Andrial, foul stenches were quite likely to set off her trigger and in combination with the frustration and pain already being felt from the crash? It was safe to say that the woman had snapped as she bisected another defender, before carrying on with doing what she did best. As she tore through defenders, with reckless abandon to whether or not they were trying to surrender. It was far too late for that as all she could see was red. Both in a literal and metaphorical sense as she hurled herself further into the fury coursing through her. The anger was hers. The one thing that she knew was always in her control.

Mud, blood and other filth stuck to Andrial's skin as she moved. At the very least she could admit this was enjoyable. Far better than cooped up in a room trying to research Force techniques. Instead of flipping through pages of nonsensical text, she was slicing through flesh. Putting her muscles to work as she was able to push herself forward. Anger. Frustration. Rage. She didn't need to restrain herself when it came to killing. In a way, Andrial would make for a terrible soldier. She didn't listen to orders well. She barely thought tactically. But thanks to the curse that was the Force that flowed through her, she was able to crash through walls. She was not a soldier, but she was a Fighter.

A sudden flaring of pain shot through her side as a stray blaster bolt made contact. Andrial's eyes settled on the source of the blaster fire. one of the Ertraxi defenders firing off multiple shots in her direction. It was a shame for him that he didn't connected with a vital spot as the wrathful gaze of Andrial bore directly into his own mud coloured eyes.. She needed to get to where the Third Legion were landing instead of doing her own thing...but they could wait for a moment. It wouldn't take her long to deal with the Fool. Andrial summoned the Force, using what little she knew to throw some of the defenders off to the side. Tearing her arm through the air to send a blast of the Force to one side and then ripping it in the other direction.

She slowly made her way towards the defender, raising her blade to intercept the blaster fire aimed directly at her. Step by step, she performed flourish after flourish before she reached her hand out to grip the Ertraxi. As the metaphorical fingers of the Force gripped around him, she yanked him through the air, whilst she held her greatsword out ahead of herself, impaling the defender through his chest as she Pulled him from the tip of the blade all the way to the hilt.

"Choke on that!"

Andrial's voice twisted in frustration as she hissed, her blue eyes flickering yellow for the slightest moment before she tore her blade free. She had wasted enough time here now. It was time for her to reach the rally point as she threw her blade against her shoulder before stepping up the pace to make it the rally Point. Ploughing through the defenders with far more zeal and aggression than she had previously, Andrial wasn't wasting time with enjoying the destruction anymore. She only allowed herself a moment to breathe once she arrived, taking in a deep breath before resting the point of her blade in the dirt.

She might not take orders well, but it was time for her to see what came next.

​

 

[Sai'vhaela]

Location: Ertrax
Objective: Hellfire and Brimstone
Mission Objective: Signal Disruption Kill

• Silence the Flute Engine.

Tag: Lirka Ka

The Imperator had arrived, bringing the battle with her.

Sai’vhaela angled her rifle towards the street that the Imperator had arrived from. Setting her crosshairs over the chest of a heavy blaster-wielding Etraxi defender, the Jango Jumper squeezed the trigger, a lancing, nigh-invisible bolt of antimatter plasma surging out from her rifle’s barrel at hypersonic velocity to vaporize the soldier’s entire upper half in a flash of light and searing heat. A second shot saw another Etraxi struck down, the bolt annihilating flesh, bone, and brain matter to render the soldier’s body decapitated in obliterative fashion.

With her arrival, Sai’vhaela offered the Imperator a silent acknowledgement, offering only the lethal efficiency of her work as tribute. In a combat zone, a salute or a bow would be inappropriate and dangerous. Still, the weight of the moment pressed itself upon her: the mission had been deemed important enough that the Imperator of the Third Legion had elected to engage it herself.

Now more than ever, she could not afford to tarnish the reputation of the Shikkari.

“Imperator,” Sai’vhaela spoke up, before lowering her rifle and activating the holoprojector on her gauntlet comp. A detailed, three-dimensional map of the Ertraxi trench network came alight in crimson hue, etching sharp shadows across her visor. “The Flute Engine is three klicks ahead, located in a network of harmonic trenches dug in hexagonal and spiral patterns. The structure itself is situated in a recessed amphitheater at the nexus of the trench network—essentially a subterranean pit structure.” The Jango Jumper pointed to each relevant point on the map in sequence. “It’s believed that the trench acts as a resonator, amplifying sonic signals and distorting invasive frequencies. As we get closer, we may experience sensor and comm disruptions.” She continued.

“Reports indicate that the Flute Engine's primary defenders are anti-personnel bioforms known as Soundless.”

Sai’vhaela switched projections with a flick of her wrist, bringing up a three-dimensional image of a Soundless bioform—a humanoid silhouette encased in smooth white, segmented armor plating, with a faceless head shaped like a tuning fork.

“These will appear in greater numbers the closer we get to the nexus.” She rotated the image with a subtle flourish of her hand, the hologram casting an eerie light across her bodysuit. “Each one projects a 15-meter radius of total acoustic nullification—no comms, no blaster reports, no footfalls, nothing.” She emphasized.

“We can attempt a stealthy entrance or a louder, faster one. The approach you choose is the one we will take, Imperator.”

Spoiler: Loadout

• Gloomdancer Veil
  
  • Arms
    
    • FAE/M-02 Energized Gauntlet Vibroblade - R
    • Lacera - Sith Lanvarok - L
      
      • Ammunition
        
        • 30 Disc Magazine (4)
          
          • Neuranium Disc - Void Stone Treatment
• Gloomstriker
  
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-100x FAE/S-08 Electro-Scope
    • Silencer
    • Bipod
  • Ammunition
    
    • FAE/AM-01-S4 Energy Weapon Cartridge - Ethaerium X Gas and CryoBan Coolant (8)
• Gloomripper Crescents
• Siqsa-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Obscuration Canister (4)

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Objective II: Mystery of the Void

The landing pods had struck down into the earth a few minutes before, and already, the masked and helmed figures of the Tsis'Kaar and Guard had emerged out from their depths, fanning out, as gun emplacements were brought down, anti-personnel mines deployed, and defensive positions secured and garrisoned. At the centre of the makeshift and quickly growing base camp, there stood a figure known to all of them.

Darth Malum.

Resplendent in black plate and steel, the sunlight itself seemed to waver at his presence, as he stood beneath the canopy, masked as he was in the face of his most grand ancestor, the serpentine masks of Tsis'Kaar agents, and the helmets of a Sith Empire from ages long past, stood in silence, as he mused their next step.

Above them, cannons roared, as the next waves of drop pods were dispatched down.

The first wave was designed to secure the beachhead, the second wave to allow for its advance. It had been luck in many regards, that they had landed in the cloister of a hilly valley, no enemies patrols found thus far, indeed, as his scouts' reports filtered back so far... it seemed the enemy were nowhere closer to finding them.

Such were the conditions in which the Tsis'Kaar thrived.

"The Imperator's assault begins, my lord..." One of his aides softly reported, the board before him transforming, as estimations and placeholders came alive, the battle beginning to play itself out. There was little doubt that there would be victory this day, in the clash between a sole planet, and a Legion, there was never a question of the end result.

Only questions of details. How long would Ertrax put back the timetable for the continuance of the Shattermarch?

How much would the Third be forced to bleed, requiring reinforcements from the homeland?

Such was why the Tsis'Kaar had been deployed to the world early, secretly, to be the surgeon's scalpel, while everyone else would serve the woodsman's axe. Yet, he too, was here for other purpose, there were rare moments when a planetary assault like this truly gained his interest, having done one so often, apart from the new terrain, they had the habit of rolling themselves into rather similar memories in one's head.

Apart from when they made little sense.

His memories of Ertrax had been of defeat... whe him and his co-apprentice had made a bid to end the civil war in one fanciful move, boarding the Malsheem and taking the head of the Kainite in one stroke... the fact that said head still was alive, was likely enough indication of how that went.

But he had never made landfall upon Ertrax, only heard of the damage the Kainites had made in their retreat.

And after his and his co-apprentice's defeat, Malum had never thought of Ertrax had, all apart from vague mentions of its continuing rebuilding.

...To hear they had drifted away from Imperial space literally... only to be found again, far better in position than they had been before?

Well, it warranted investigation, to say the least.

"...My lord, Darth Strosius' command is requesting assistance." Another aide communicated across, as Malum gazed down upon the map, to a lightning strike assault commanded by his co-apprentice, one which had gunships directly on the path of anti-aircraft guns.

Typical enough, Malum thought with a ghost of a smile, as slight tremours travelled the ground, as the larger guns disgorged themselves from transports.

"Alert them, we will begin laying covering fire shortly, and we will join them soon." Malum answered, his cloak billowing in his wake, as he left the canopies hood, out to the grassy knolls outside, behind him the march of armoured boots followed him.

The sun shone high.

Bloodshed to be illuminated.

Darth Strosius
Mentioned: Lirka Ka Darth Carnifex

 

[Lirka Ka]

OBJECTIVE I - HELLFIRE AND BRIMSTONE
TAGS

The killing field was alive now. Bodies fell, the crucible of war had awaken in full force. It was what the Legion, nay - the Sith in their entirety, needed. Blasters careened through the dustcloud, artillery exploded in thunderous shrapnel. By their own, the Ertraxi stood little chance: a microcosm of the Empire itself had borne down upon their world-reborn, this was a crucible of efficiency. To see who would collapse under the pressures of a freshly birthed legion brought to true battle.

Yet no crucible was greater than that infernal, beautiful, whistiling. The whistle that heralded obliteration as remade earth was unmade in a wake of hyper-precise ordinance. A maddening orchestra of sound, while the weapon may have been compared to a flute it had become more like the rancor of a church organ. This was holy eradication…in much the same way, were the Third far from conducting such eradication all the same?

Dusting herself off some, she heard the mechanical voice of Helix in her ears. Feeling her eyes almost wanting to roll back into her skull, she gave her supposed “apprentice” a quick jest - focused more on personal comms rather than cluttering the primary network.

“It’s a figure of speech, War Marshal. You know how they are, the mindless things. Now remember your station, dear marauder. And do not clutter our command network.”

It was not often she’d dared to hiss such a tone at the mechanoid- but she could only enable so much after all. This was butchery, but decorum needed to be maintained.

She turned now to address the small gaggle of warriors that had formed before her. The Kainite Sai'vhaela and this gore soaked newcomer Andrial Madon that certainly caught Lirka’s eye - she saw that little bit of herself in every brutish bladed killer that came her way after all. She met Madon with a nod, her salutes were shared for the troopers.

And this one certainly surpassed expectations. Intently did Lirka listen to Sai’vhaela and their intel. It was quaint to see a warrior so well prepared, and well researched.

“Consider me suitably impressed, Warrior. Your name, state it. I wish to remember such a thing.”

A rare praise from a beast like Lirka Ka. A double edged sword, of course. One did not invite themselves to the Imperator’s knowledge without also inviting themselves to the scuttling prodding of some of her….eccentricities.

“The great paradox of these diseased freaks. They whistle about the deaths of our fellows, but deafen themselves in their trinket’s shadow. Such a wretched sort. No pride in the joyous music of war - there is little to be gained from stealth, the battle wages on. This word is cleaned as we speak to make way for its new age. We shall remind the Ertraxi and their alien masters that the Storm yields to none, warriors.”

She entered the command channel again, her “underlings” were here after all. And it would be foolish to waste them. They would attack loud, for Lirka was always loud. But she understood well enough that droids could be tricked, if these binary monstrosities thought in such the same way. First Helix

“War Marshal, I have need of you. I require your mechanoids to assail the enemy forward position with maximum force, distract their attention away from the Flute’s defenses. The fallen shall be rebuilt with the ruins of this world.”

Then, she had her words dance to the Arch Commandant Darth Virelia

“Arch Commandant. Your talents for making messes is required by the Legion - the War Marshal and his droids assail the front. Take what you can, strike them in the rear of the trench works. The enemy shall be drowned in too many variables to process.”

Now, she returned to the other members of their trio. A metal claw pointed to the juggernaut of a Sith with them.

“You, me. Spear point, we will clear the enemies before us. Do try and keep up.”

Her head turned, now to the Kainite.

“You, behind our killing field, I want to see priority targets removed. Enemy Anti-Armor is top priority till we reach the Flute itself. We shall carve a path, and then we shall hear the music of their demise!”

A single, mechanical command followed. Utter out throughout the network

“Proceed.”

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Objective II: Mystery of the Void
Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Strosius

​

Lysander's pod pierced through the air; the descent was smooth despite the terrain. Yet before the teen's leather boots touched soil, he had already felt it, that signature in the Force that belonged to his cousin alone, a frequency deeply imprinted into his consciousness, but a melody in the winds that whispered of a battle to come.

The ranks of Tsis’Kaar forces were dense, but he weaved through them purposefully, no different than an assassin slipping through the shadows, always in close proximity now. Many proclaimed loyalty to their doctrine, but tethered to this anchor, was a devotion rooted so deeply in blood, that it had become instinct

Just behind the figure and to the right, his gaze was analytical, scanning the perimeter with an eye slowly becoming more aware of what exactly to search for, from shifts in patrols to unseen vulnerabilities. Though highly unlikely and not born of doubt, the act still allowed him to sharpen his own edges, like a sword desperately aching to taste flesh.

Hands encased in plating dark as ash rested at his sides, poised to react, to shield, to strike when violence unraveled, as it undoubtedly would before the day's end. And when he found himself under the canopy he dared not to intrude, but would hungrily devour the reports, dissecting all that was spoken, for these were lessons no instructor could teach aloud.

The mention of Darth Strosius would cause Lysander's intense concentration to falter, but only a fraction; details of this Sith did not allude to the acolyte, such knowledge passed down from another cousin, Revna. It stirred something in him that was not fear or envy, but curiosity, to understand who walked beside Malum with such trust.

When he stepped out from beneath the covering, something slowly settled around him, as if the air itself had shifted. Still, he moved among the others. Beneath the helm, heat began rising, and a trail of moisture slipped down his brow. The acolyte centered himself with a slight adjustment at the neck seal, preparing for whatever lay next, awaiting even a more specific command, should it arrive.

From Ukatis to Jutand, then Ruusan, and now Etrax, much had changed. But if one truth stayed, it was that Lysander more often than not these days found himself marching in the same direction as the elder Marr. To glory or destruction.

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Another command post..."

Tag - Lirka Ka



The command relay snapped to life with the Imperator's voice—gravel and iron, lacquered in blood. Virelia stood still as the words uncoiled into her ear, curling like smoke around her thoughts.

"Your talents for making messes is required by the Legion... Take what you can, strike them in the rear of the trench works. The enemy shall be drowned in too many variables to process."

She could almost hear the smirk behind it.

"Understood," she replied, her voice low and laced with heat, cutting through the air like poisoned silk. "I will give them more variables than they've digits to count with. The back of their line will forget what shape their front once held."

She turned her helm toward the hololith again, where the Ertraxi fortifications pulsed like a heartbeat beneath a surgeon's knife. Patterns of order. Movement without soul. Logic without lust.

We'll fix that.

With a flourish of her talons, she dragged three projections from the edges of the war-table toward a pulsing red crescent—enemy trenchworks surrounding the central power conduits of their forward base. Auxiliary networks. Comms relays. Fuel silos. Her six violet eyes narrowed in unison.

"Twelve points of vulnerability. Five covered by artillery arcs. Seven blind to rear assault. Now... let's loosen the spine."

She turned sharply, the sound of her movement a whisper of silk over steel, and strode down the steps of the dais. A line of black-armored field officers, each marked by the sigil of the Third, fell into step without word or gesture.

"Deploy spearhead units Theta and Fennex. We take trench Cluster Theta-9 from the rear and burn our way inward. Focused strikes, maximum trauma. I want them overwhelmed, not annihilated. Confusion is the blade's true edge."

One of the field officers raised a brow. "Should we notify the War Marshal of your—"

"No," she snapped. "The War Marshal is busy flooding their front with precision violence. I'm going to give them something illogical."

She pivoted, stalking toward the staging platform where a set of drop skiffs awaited—sleek, black, knife-shaped. The storm winds outside howled against the outer barrier as a rupture in the command wall peeled open, revealing the full chaos of Ertrax below. Lightning wreathed the horizon like veins across a dying eye.

And Darklight loomed.

A goddamn monolith blotting out the sun, her hull humming with electromagnetic agony. Somewhere far beneath that shadow, the Flute sang its grotesque tune and turned symmetry into slaughter.

"I will answer your song in kind, Lirka," she muttered, voice low and dark with relish. "Let us compose."

She keyed into the Legion-wide command relay, voice sharpened to a razored command.

"Third Legion. Taskforce Vox is under my direct control. We are now en route to disrupt Ertraxi trench sectors Theta-9 through -12. We are not merely flanking. We are infecting. Push hard. Push fast. I want them wondering if gravity still works when we're done."

The response was near-instantaneous—affirmatives, battle-chant acknowledgments, the bark of Sith voices eager for sanctioned carnage. She could hear the rhythm of it now. The pulse of doctrine made into brutality.

As her skiff doors opened, Virelia climbed aboard, trailed by armored shadows. She did not sit. She stood at the prow as the vessel dropped from the command spire like a bird of prey. The cape behind her flared in the cabin's pressure shift, its red underside flashing like blood on blade.

Below, the trenches loomed—runes glowing, soldiers moving in lockstep harmony. Too pure. Too clean. It offended her.

"Soon," she whispered to herself, fingers flexing. "We will reintroduce the concept of fear."

The skiff dipped low beneath the artillery horizon, weaving between ruined spires and burst embankments as they circled wide around the enemy's flank.

She activated a direct link to Lirka.

"Imperator. The backdoor is ajar. Let me introduce our hosts to the feeling of a knife in the spine."

No smile. Just purpose.

And violet eyes, glowing in the dark.

 

[Jacen Breska]

OBJ 1: HELLFIRE​

WEARING:: Jacen’s Second Legion Armor
EQUIPMENT: DC-902d
LOCATION: :: Dropping on Target ::
TAG: CT-312 Lirka Ka

It was finally time again to do what the DeathDrop was meant to do. Conquer.

A few teams had been called for this assignment, subjugating a planet. It was quickly replacing their previous forte of fighting esoteric monsters from beyond the stars. Now it was simple killing and war.

It made Jacen smile at the thought. Not necessarily the war aspect, just that more and more recently he was being used for what he was supposed to be used for. Not guarding a meeting, not dying to monsters, but fighting in battle.

Their opening objective was clear. Jacen's team: Blackout, this time, was to drop on a hill that had entrenched Artillery positions. Bombing runs weren't dislodging them, only a direct attack would flush them out of their trenches.

"Blackout actual to Blackout 1, you are go for drop."

"Copy," Jacen responded as the drop pod lights turned green. Four pods dropped in unison and screamed towards the planet, breaking through the atmosphere and slamming into the ground with a loud crash.

As one, Blackout burst forth from their pods behind the enemy positions and raised their weapons, opening fire on the defenders. The shock and awe afforded the team a quick advance to the first line of defensive fortifications, but Jacen knew it wouldn't last. Already, the defenders began to rally and counter attack, but Jacen wasn't worried. The team he'd worked with had been with him for awhile, they were all....professionals. To an extent. To Jacen's right, Blackout 2 kicked a gunner square in the chest and jammed his 902d into the fighter's face, cackling as he unloaded. On his left, Blackout 3 tossed a thermal detonator into a small bunker, and hollered in cheer as the explosion crumbled the insides. "Watch that left flank, 3, you got resistance making their way to you now. Push 'em back, keep us clear. 4, meet up with him and keep pressure on the left. 2, you psychopath, get det-packs ready and start making your way to the guns, I'll join you in a sec." three red lights flashed on his HUD. They agreed, good. Jacen opened his comm, "Blackout to Imperator Ka, we've landed and begun our assault."

​

 

[Helix]

Objective: Unchanged
Equipment: Unchanged
Tags: Lirka Ka /OPEN​

Helix grumbled something unprofessional (not to mention anatomically implausible) in response to being chided, but did as he was told.

"Received and understood, Imperator." He responded, then analyzed his force composition. "Shrike bands Ripsaw and Forceps. Our orders are to press the frontal defenses. Land amidst them and drive them towards us."

"And... check your fire. We'll be using the heavy armor for this one."

With the simultaneous precision that only droids could be capable of, dozens of winged battle droids descended on the forward defenses like carrion birds. At the same instant, a quartet of enormous Phobos droids rolled forward, pulping enemy soldiers beneath their tracks.

Few enemies, in his experience, were used to this sort of predatory warfare. He almost wished Nefaron was here to see it. Few others had any appreciation for properly-performed shock tactics.

Helix turned his attention from them for a moment, diverting his processing power to a large-scale simulation of the field, based on available data. His droids were all networked to him, and most of their communication was immediate and wordless, as organics reckoned things. He saw and heard whatever they saw and heard, so he had excellent data to choose from.

An enemy soldier landed next to Helix with a splat, dropped from on high by one of the flying Shrike droids. The noise disturbed him from his calculations, and he flexed the nanites near his legs, siphoning off the blood and mud from his carapace. One of the charms of being so fluid in nature was that any part of one's body could serve any purpose equally, and he formed taste-sensitive neurons across the area. Blood was less sweet, it seemed, when he had not spilled it himself. He logged that away for future testing.

Still, he made a note to discipline the Shrikes for their constant grandstanding. The airborne elite had an incurable tendency to play with their food. Under normal circumstances, he overlooked it. He glanced up, seeing two of the droids tossing a screaming, kicking hostile between themselves, several hundred feet from the ground. Deleterious to the enemy fighting spirit, if nothing else, but they should be focusing on shooting the rest.

He tightened his mental grip on them, and they complied, zipping back toward the ground to spray toxic bolts into the backs of the startled enemy forces.

Now caught between armor in front and air forces in the rear, the frontline was being slowly and painfully pocketed. Helix watched as one of the heavy tanks shifted its configuration, becoming a towering, heavily-armored walker. One of the horror's clawed feet slammed down, crushing half a dozen Ertraxi beneath its bulk. The others followed suit, and the first line began to disintegrate as the walkers ran roughshod over them. The great machines seemed almost impervious to damage, and to spread a singular panic in the enemy. Good. Working as intended on both counts.

To the Ertraxi's credit, they had been well prepared for a conventional assault. Nobody, however, was ever prepared for Helix. He'd not even gotten to his favorite toys yet.

He regretted that his newest project was still in the oven. This would have been a perfect testbed, Imperator permitting. Unfortunate, but there was always next time. Somehow, he didn't think this would be the last meat grinder Lirka would throw him into.

 

[Darth Strosius]

Objective: 2 Determine the Cause
Equipment: Lightsaber - Sword - Dagger - Robes
Tags: Darth Malum of House Marr / Lysander von Ascania
--------------------------------------------

Lightning struck two more defensive towers as the gunships veered around and past them, purple arcs leaping from the opened blast doors to overload and scorch guns which were still trying to knock them out of the sky. While Darth Strosius had no issue letting loose bolt after bolt at whatever shot at them, the sheer amount of anti-air defenses and their varied positionings across the city made completely disabling them via just blowing up one after the next rather time consuming and not at all effective.

Breathing room was the main goal in this regard, not outright sky clearance. Even if this first wave of gunships could make it to the building at the center of the city then reinforcements would simply have to run the same gauntlet of anti-air fire which they were weaving through now. Clearing a landing zone was useless however buying time and marking targets wasn't. :"My lord Prophet, the Tsis'Kaar have confirmed covering fire and their assault will begin soon.":

The news from the pilot was a welcome relief and one that resulted in the blast doors finally being shut as Darth Strosius left a handful of towers around them charred and smoking. Just enough of an area for the gunships to circle around in relative safety. :"Send them the sensor data of the local defenses and ensure that they know to aim around the already destroyed towers rather than within their radius.": Given the unusual construction of the city itself, only the more obvious and blatant military assets had been spotted from orbit and initial scans before any forces made it planetside.

With the data from their little trench run however, the backline of their forces could be exposed and the defenders of Ertrax could effectively be cut off at the knees as it were. Something to provide some relief to the main advance of the Third Legion, even if He did find the slaughter of a Kainite's forces to be rather amusing. Wasting resources when their fleets and armies were already stretched thin wasn't ideal so He could grant this one minor aid, albeit one made using the Tsis'Kaar to fulfill it rather than Him having to do so on His own.

:"All gunships maintain formation and hold until the artillery hits, we will advance when the barrage ends.":

 

[Andrial Madon]

Location: Ertrax - Objective 1
Tags: Lirka Ka

Keeping up? That was one thing Andrial would have no issue doing. A toothy grin spreading across her face. Yet she did not care for the extra information being given their way. So what if they blocked out communications? Just rip through them. It was that simple for Andrial. Which of course meant the actual situation was nowhere near that simple. But she wasn't a leader, or a commander and especially not a strategist. Brute force was Andrial's way. It was all she truly knew at the moment. Of course, the Spirit would insist on more restrained methods of achieving their goals. Being akin to a surgical knife as opposed to a hacksaw. Using the Force as a needle to penetrate through the enemy and straight into their heart, as opposed to using it as a hammer and chisel to tear and chip away until she could hack away. If anything, Andrial spat on those methods. Purely for nothing else but spite. Andrial was her own being. Her own warrior.

"I'll make sure to keep up Imperator. Unless I need to clean up what you leave behind."

Was it perhaps a mistake to come off as cocky? To sound so full of herself? The voice in the back of Andrial's mind clearly thought so, but Andrial believed it showed confidence in her own skills. She was not some faceless grunt that would follow someone else's orders word for word. At the same time, it also showed how Andrial truly desired to wipe the field clear of their foes. To cleave them atwain. It also was not as if Andrial was saying that she was better than the Imperator, she wouldn't dare suggest that. Andrial might not have been the smartest warrior alive, but even she knew that would be a death wish and she did not wish to die. Not yet at least.

Instead she brought her greatsword down in front of her, ready to charge ahead like the spear's point. Perhaps that was a weapon she could work on studying in the future, but for now? It was her and her blade. This was going to be fun. More foes to lay beneath her feet? She lived for this. If only her family could see what she was doing in the name of the Sith.

​

 

[Lirka Ka]

OBJECTIVE I - Hellfire and Brimstone
TAGS - Helix Darth Virelia Andrial Madon Jacen Breska Sai'vhaela

Violence engulfed her, though the sensation was a brief thing. Something else quickly jabbed into her mind, vast amusement. Her comms had lit up, and the voice of her favorite would-be-Sith appeared. Ironic how her and Jacen Breska had this knack for ending up in the same room, and she didn't even need to torment the poor Dropper this go around. It would be pleasantly quaint to see the man and his fellows operate in their newest of prime positions, alongside those who rode the storm of the Shattermarch.

"Your arrival is a wonderous grace, Warrior Breska. Kill well."

After the...tenseness of their last meeting, it was only proper for Lirka to jest and jab. Even when she was supposed to be the professional. In her experience, murderers fought better when they were ever so slightly annoyed anyhow.

Soon, pure shock and awe followed. It was the true warfare of Sith kind, an Empire under one mighty banner of the Third Legion gorging down upon Ertrax in pure brutality. Buildings crumble, and monsters arrive in the fray. The rumbling Phobos of Helix and the black skiffs of Darth Virelia filled something of a black joy within her hearts, the other of the hydra's major heads had properly taken the fray. A grand display for the Empire to see the Triarchy of the third in their totality.

Though there was one issue with shock and awe...your foe needed to possess the ability to feel shock, or owe. Whatever had happened to the Ertraxi - they certainly had come to lack such things. Harmonics sang over the horizon, and many-eyed Etraxi looked to their would-be-conquerors with a vacant hatred. Ertrax was a world stabilized, a world brought to order. Now the Sith had come, the Sith that would ravage their worlds and bring about sinful disharmony in the place of the perfect order gifted from the beyond.

Terror dissolved in the wake of perfect rhythm; fear was disorder. There was no place for disorder in a Galaxy graced by stabilization.

As if compelled by some unseen conductor, the Ertraxi and their alien allies rallied in the wake of Sith assault. The likes of Jacen Breska and the Deathdrop would be the first to be graced by their renewed vigor - from the smoldering wreckage of the bunker, something rose through the smoke. A horrid, multi-limbed, and soundless thing. Its face a blank mouthless, mirror-like thing that seemed to be formed from alien diamond. It glimmered back the destruction the warriors had left in their wake as if attempting to force them to understand the chaos they brought to this world. Its form marred by the explosion, revealed the intricate biomechanisms that laid within. For while it had no mouth, it could certainly scream. Impressively cruel sonic weaponry deployed, assailing the warriors of the deathdrop with a wall of sound as the Ertraxi defenders began to work themselves into ravenous frenzy in the wake of this thundering orchestra - clambering to meet the arrival of these airborne warriors and join this mouthless alien in its assault. The zealous defense of a holy icon.

What should have been a disruption of the enemy, quickly was becoming anything but. Through waves of noise, and the thunder of battle the Ertraxi began to reform and respond at a rapid pace that any true organic life should have been incapable of. The assault from the droids under the command was Helix certainly did draw attention, for the mighty Flute Engine hummed to life as it let loose another whine of obliteration - all of its vast network of laser precise ordinance launching against one of the massive phobos engines in an attempt to lay one of the mighty droids low. Flak that had been saved for landing craft turned inwards as the shrikes were met with a hail of withering hellfire. The screaming ceased from forces that should have trembled in terror. For now, they moved in fearless lockstep to meet the chaos that was the War Marshal's hellish menagerie, each volley of their weapons a perfectly timed volley of energy meant to focus in their firepower onto a singular target.

From the rancor, more of the mirror-faced alien warriors rose. Lashing out against these chaos bringers with a soundless yet undeniably intense hatred. Each seeming to compose the locals to the will of their shackling tune. Already the artillery that Darth Virelia whisked through the air to fight was beginning to readjust, careful calculations slowly but surely began to crumble away.

The proof was obvious. There was a timer to this destruction, lest the Sith-Imperial forces find themselves engulfed by an enemy rapidly adapting to their savagery at unnatural speed. Their shock and their awe would last only so long till it merely became overextended offense within the heart of enemy territory.

Lirka Ka certainly felt it, already was she dashing headlong into a wall of enemies. They were far from willing to give up the flute engine so willingly. She certainly had a modicum of respect for the arrogance that Andrial Madon spat her way - good, a challenge. Let the youth understand that the old metal monster still had plenty of murderous spunk in her step.

"As if, girl. Let Lirka Ka show you how a real warrior dances."

For it certainly seemed pertinent, for what should have been a weakened defense now stood before the encroaching assault as a solid wall of bio-organic freaks and their zealous servants. Expecting to immediately dive into the fray, Lirka soon found herself sliding across the ground to land behind a burning scrap of Sith-Imperial craftsmanship As the two brutes were met was a hail of sonic doom from these bizarre defenders. Letting out a snarl, as she felt the metal in front of her begin to be stripped away by the hail. Her cover certainly wasn't long for this world - turning her head to address her fellows with barking command.

"Together, warriors! We need only but one of us to breach the line - let the worthy prosper."

With a brief pause in the barrage, Lirka threw herself upon the foe. She would see who would follow, and who would not. Glory demanded the Imperator be the spearpoint to see this menace on Ertrax laid low, so that the wonders of the SIth-Imperial state could flourish once more - or some malarkey like that, even as she ran headlong into certain maiming the Imperator already had her mind on the future of the optics of the whole thing. Deep down...she really was a politician.