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“… and then the little vornskyr tip toed over the dragon’s head…” Girak-Kaine pretended to tip-toe over a beast to the quiet mirth of his younger siblings. Their tapping hands. A significant part of Gunnr watched her children with a proud mother’s care, they grew strong and wise. Personally attended by their father, in a way many did not have the privilege. “And once the little vorns-sk-ssshhhh…”
The flood of a father’s power, on his dark-blessed son. Girak stumbled backward into Magnus, eyes flicking to the back of his head as if drunk upon the ionic discharge. Images tumbled through his head, blows heeded, violence thrown. Jumbles upon jumbles that tangled his tongue and left him incapacitated against his twin’s hold.
Gunnr snarled as the air shifted in its’ electric charge, ions of power fluttered across Gunnr’s bare arms. The Palace flooded with a malicious current as dark and red as the crimson stolen from those decimated by her spouse’s soul. Gunnr drank in the power, the promise it held to protect their younglings and their people… she saw it not for what it was perceived, but for what Carnifex gained in its’ measurement.
Power was not without scruples, Koemi’s goals were his own and thus belonged within her, a seed properly kept in case of direst need. As the static charge of Darth Carnifex
’s gale flooded the room, Gunnr leaned back as a drowning figure in the freshest rain. It bathed her, comforted and cajoled her.
“I can feel it…” Eyes closed, the soft alto of Gunnr’s voice reached out to her brother, Skorvek
. Therein lied the mystery, how she now could feel such things, which seemed… distant or removed in previous recollections. “… I remember the Gate… the blood rivers and carcasses so vast they looked as if they swallowed worlds… and I remember you upon the sands. Pricked ears covered in golden dirt… they seem…”
Shaking her head, she licked black stained lips and sought her brother’s face. “I do not understand why they seem like a child’s recollections, when my childhood was lived here. Amongst Panatha’s people, chasing through the Temples and market stalls with mother and Althea. Making offerings to Nussyn on behalf of Qocia… I should be protecting my people, Skorvek. If one of them are ruined by these Crusaders on our account, it is too many for my pride.”
Gunnr picked up her pole-axe once more. “… I cannot leave my people without their Priestess. I also cannot leave my children, or my spouse. Skor… thank you. Thank you for being here with me. I promise not to be too stupid."
One of the guards slid two fingers to their ear, a general communications channel intercepted from Ingrid L'lerim
. Evacuation… yet, Gunnr scooped up her inflicted son Girak and carried him to the couch. Set him beside her and wrapped her arms around him, his back to her embrace. She kissed his hair, held him close and whispered. "Girak-Kaine, named for your forefathers... you are touched by the Force in a way many cannot fathom. So you and I are going to help father... breathe with me. Concentrate on my voice. Follow me to the epicentre of Him... now... strength and will. Give him strength, add your will to his own... That's it... follow me..."
Concentrating outward, Gunnr taught their son Sith Battle Meditation, a technique to demoralize those others, while strengthening the object of their pride. Passion led it, the dominant will that her spouse would not falter and their family be made stronger for the predicament. The mother and son gave to Carnifex their ire, their will that this be completed... and to the forces of those sensitive, to those who aided Panatha, the dominant will and desire to both protect and unleash upon any who dared harm even one of the Panathan populace in their midst.
“Goddess’s knickers, no violence?! Y’all come ruffle our feathers, and don’t even have the gaul to give us a fight!? HEATHENS!! Where’s a rock, I’m’a throw it!?” I search the space I’m on for a rock, “Nope.. that’s a grenade, I’ll… I will put this down and… someone find me a pebble, I’m’a throw a rock… I’m’a do it! Comin’ on to Panatha, all this hullabaloo and not even a bar brawl for our trouble! I got out my killin’ stick, heck, even grandpa got his… aw put down the… Althea take that smackin’ stick away from grandpappy or I’m’a tan you with mine… we’re good.. we’re… we’re all good here… off-worlders. What a nuisance. Let them come and die indeed. Indeed!”
Times like this I wish I didn’t learn basic from a backwater moisture farmer turned piratic engineer called Sheej. I swear I speak Epicant like a proper lady. And Mando’a like a mercurial hazard to the health of anybody other than a Mandalorian… so… you know, the way it’s supposed to be spoken. Languages. Bah.
“Listen to me carefully…” I bite the inside of my cheek and speak in Mando’a as Adenn turns his attention from the battle. The Sith Magics done courtesy of Darth Prazutis to raise me from the dead prevent so much of what I would or could share. Guards on my mind and tongue. As is, I struggle with the gorram idea of a mountainous cephalopoidal worshipping monster controlling so much, but eh! You win, you lose. I press my helmeted forehead against my husband’s, feel the warmth of such frigid metal. What it means to lock himself behind it today, and I smile.
“Gigi and Maggi are in that Palace… and their little brother. And their baby sister… and their … and… demnit Carnifex one day I’ll stab ye in the face…” my mouth clamps shut, a strangled noise Adenn’s heard before when I’ve tried so hard I ached to say what I know. “Our grandbabies we ain’t seen… yet…”
I want to scream out my daughter is alive, he never let go. He couldn’t let go, it was impossible to leave her soul unsalvaged and unloved but I can’t. I want to roar there are babies up there I long to hold in my arms and rock and kiss. To see their strength grow and teach them engineering but I can’t. Prazutis and Carnifex took that from me, penalty and penance for what I did to Yasha. For death and its horrors. For being a Mandalorian’s wife, taking Tamar Gred
in as if she were worthy of family and not still as in their eyes, a slave.
Maybe being the mother in law of the worse Dark Lord since the sun set on the first world anyone ever saw has its disadvantages… but goddess dang it if we don’t protect those kids up there, if one hair is harmed, the Ashlan Crusaders will have the most terrifying mother in law in the universe to contend with.
“Stardust, I’m’a kiss you.” And the tension inside my soul breaks. Under the mask, tears pour past frustrated eyes as in a flippant second Stardust says what I can’t. She says my daughter’s name, a child who don’t remember her Mama exists no more. A child, whose memories were modified and I was excised like a sore. Guess that’s what I am, in the end. “He couldn’t let her go, Adenn. And he never did. He never did… our babies are up there. And by every fekking deity in this universe, this battle does not end until they are in our arms.”
Maybe then… maybe if I save Panatha, if… maybe then Kaine Zambrano will let us see them.
“… where’s a freaking pebble? A rock, something t’throw at these shabla di'kuts? GO! AWAY! Go away! GO ON! GIT!”
Though Heinrich took his duties with pride, and fulfilled them to the fullest, he couldn't help but to think of those on the front lines. The brave souls that bled and died on each planet so painfully gained haunted him. He understood that maintaining their supply lines was critical to the cause, and felt honored to be left with such a charge. Nevertheless, his calling was always that of the blade. He yearned for the opportunity to purge the darkness from the galaxy. In some ways, he needed it. It seemed that he may never see that day come... but then, the question of Panatha arose.
The planet had been held under the thumb of House Zambrano for too many years. The name itself almost felt like a blight unto the galaxy. Though Heinrich held no hatred to the members on and individual level, he could not help but to associate their name with the Bogan. After all, how couldn't he? How could anyone hear that name without associating it with countless deaths at the hand of the darkness? Whatever his personal thoughts on the matter, the fact remained...
They had to be removed.
Heinrich thought on this as the dropship touched down on the ground of Panatha. It was a small force; only one detachment of the Sons of Ession had been dispatched with him. Intelligence elements within the borders of the Eternal Empire had clued the Crusade into a possible point of entry into the palace; an entrance away from the prying eyes of the local defense forces. The intel seemed solid, as they were able to find the entrance with ease. They unloaded from the dropship, quickly making their advance. There were no guards, and the entrance, though hidden, seemed to be unlocked. As they penetrated the tunnels, Heinrich stopped the Sons at the entrance.
"No... this is too easy."
He took two steps forward.
"Even if the intel was good... we should have met resistance by now."
Heinrich looked back to his companions, his heart weighing heavy due to the request he would have to make.
"We need to make sure that this entrance remains secure. You are to hold position. I will go on alone. Should I need a way out, you will be my saving grace."
Heinrich knew that those words were not what they hoped to hear. Every member of the Crusade was itching at the opportunity to eliminate the blight of the Zambranos from the galaxy, and Heinrich wished that he could allow them the chance. Despite this, he had to prioritize.
"Should the mission be a success, you can all consider yourselves key components in our victory. We each have a role to play in the great plans of Ashla, and each is of equal importance."
Turning back to the tunnels, Heinrich took the lightsaber from his belt.
He listened to her words the memories of the old Yasha Cadera that he met once in the Netherworld whilst he roamed its deserts she bathed in its blood. He wondered if someday he should tell her ...but not today not while she doesnt remember those dark days and let that pain haunt her again she has a new world and a new life ahead. He was about to get up and stop her from leaving and he was more then strong enough to possibly hold her still as the evac order was given. But he will not leave not while she remains or her children, He felt her enter the meditation and decided to join suit.
He molded his energies with her and the boy's to all the allies of Panatha from the deepest pits of Panatha to the stars above he reached out to feed them all so that this scourge maybe removed once and for all.
The video feed from Taozi Fuyuan
came through in front of Isla and she watched intently, she had seen the after battle reports and she knew what this was. Struggling to hold back tears she considered cutting her own out going feed, but no, this was a battle of humility, not strength. They could watch her and see that the scenes unfolding caused her pain.
As the feed finished, she wiped away a tear, waited a few moments and then spoke a reply.
"I am sorry," her voice was strong but she had genuinely remorse for the actions of her supposed allies. She took another breath "Those actions are actions were the actions of a small minority of forces allied to, but not a part of the Ashlan Crusade. The footage has been edited by whoever created it to give you the worst snap shot of the wider picture." She paused again transmitting an unclassified and abridged version of her own after battle reports.
"Those elements went against the wishes of the Ashlan command and contrary to the negotiations between Cedric Grayson
and Ingrid L'lerim
, both of whom went to great lengths to ensure civilian casualties were avoided. I would suggest you check the logs and after action of your own people to verify my statements."
She stopped again and briefly the sound was muted as she spoke to her computations officer.
"Furthermore I would like to show you all something. My hope is that it will provide caution against judging the many by the actions of a few, and also put into context my reply to your humanitarian demands. Your respective command vessels should now be receiving tight beam secure data feeds from my vessel"
The feed was a mixture of scan reports, audio logs and action reports. It detailed the scanning of the medical vessel Sanctuary as it entered the Ziost humanitarian corridor, set up by Isla. The replies to hails claiming to be a medical frigate. It had details of the scans including suspicion of the amount hardware on board but that the ship was passed through the corridor. It goes on to detail through scans, telemetry data and visual feeds that the frigate spontaneously began having engine troubles before sections broke away. The primary ship crashed into a civilian target but the broken away part landed in the hospital. It then switched to ground reports of the wholesale massacre of hospital patients by mandolarians, centered around that broken away part of the ship. None of this was hard conclusive evidence, it wasn't intended to be, but it painted a picture of a horrific mandolorian trojan horse attack under humanitarian guise.
"As you can see, our own humanitarian efforts have gone unrewarded in the past. So I would like to permit your humanitarian relief efforts, but request permission for my fleet to approach the ships involved to perform detailed scans, and if necessary, Minor boarding inspections. I am happy for this to be a combined effort with your own forces"
She then turned away and a map of the city appeared in place of her face, with the perimeter of the hospital marked with blue hatching.
"Secondly, I would like to designate this area a non-combat area. I hope you can now appreciate why my troops are moving rapidly to secure the hospital, to prevent a repeat of the savage attack at Ziost. I propose that small elements of our opposing ground troops enter the hospital facility and act as guard, with minimal armaments from either side. This will be a neutral undertaking to ensure any unfortunate injured are still treated appropriately."
"Once again, I apologise for the actions of our allies, who would not have been on Ziost if it were not for our undertaking, but hope that we can work together to rebuild trust now"
Both fleets are facing each other, nobody wanting to fire but in a tense situation. Detailed communications sent from Isla including an explanation of the holo and revealing the sanctuary attack at ziost
The General walked into the darkened Holographic chamber and moments later the green lights across the walls converged to form a layout of the whole combat zone, scaled to about 1km per metre. He walked through the city, he could see his three landers in the distance, glowing in blue, with an expanding ring of blue markers fanning out around the city perimeter. A smaller cluster of blue markers represented the ashlan ground forces where they approached a concentration of enemy forces, marked in red. He put on the integrated glasses that projected detailed information about the units as he looked at them. He was not used to this suite and it was disorientating, but the level of detail was impressive, pleasing the tactician in him.
"OK," he said into the comm as he looked at the units approaching the hospital grounds and the arrayed forces of Adenn Kyramud"we need to hold those forces, do not approach any closer and do not engage unless engaged."
On the ground, the defenders would see the tanks slowing to a halt around 95m away from their front lines and The Sisters of Ashla beginning to deploy out of their IFV's into a lose line of battle including units of Devatation Sisters armed with heavy mortars. This was intended as a show of force, not a threat, so the mortars were all points at 90°, away from the city and the defending troops as a signal of low aggression. A further transmission came as a reply to the priest.
"We are here under flag of truce, we have orders to protect ensure the hospital is secure and protected from all beligerents."
Back in the holo room the general turned his attention to the spaceport, this was a secondary objective and his tanks were just arriving. They had made slower progress as they were accompanied by a column of heavy tanks, including those equipped with rotary laser cannons and advanced anti air trackers. If they couldn't take the starport they could at least give the defenders second thoughts about using it. There were several squads of Raptured Sisters airborne at that location scouting the perimeter of the starport, they needed as much intel as possible but he was loathe to send them any further forward.
The general flinched and stumbled as a squadron of bee sized blue starfighters streaked across the room, narrowly missing his face. He caught a glance at one of the technicians who smirked as the general needlessly tried to avoid the projections.
The General regained his dignity and laughed at himself, at least his old military reflexes still worked. With his flinch though, his attention was drawn to a pair of IFV markers, at least 3.5km out of position, and marked as engaged. "What are those two tanks upto? I need to know yesterday!"
The two IFVs in question had pursued a speeder that had opened fire on them. Wishing to apprehend instead of kill, the tanks had held fire and chased them into a short gorge. This was their mistake, they came under rocket attack from an unknown assailant, damaging the repulsor of the lead tank. After a brief firefight, the attackers left the area, with no casualties on either side. The two tanks though, with their lead damaged, now sat defending their position waiting for relief.
Other than a few reports of his tanks being buzzed by swoop bikes, he supposed they were scouts, there had been very little close range interaction with his forces.
He prayed to Ashla that it would remain this way.
Hospital - forces stopped and arranging in battle lines trying to negotiate neutral entry
Spaceport - grav Sisters scouting area, heavy tanks with power AA at perimeter and other tanks looking for access
Elsewhere - minor and inconsequential skirmish between 2 tanks and unarmed guerrillas. No casualties but one tank damaged.
“Uhhh guys...were storms ever in the forecast? Was there supposed to be rain? Strong winds? Lightning?” Lexi spoke up over comms, her voice colored by consternation as she watched the sky darken all around her, the clouds shifting color to an ominous gray as winds began to intensify.
“These aren’t ideal conditions, but...the Loralora is all-weather, right?” Cida replied, the Kaminoan craning her long, slender neck as she glanced upward.
“Of course it is.” Lilacasa piped up. “We just flew over a bunch of active volcanoes on Riflor.”
“Cut the chatter, girls.” Isena cut in. “Lexi, take your element over sectors 33 through 40. If they try to approach the hospital there, buzz 'em, but don’t shoot. If they're going after one hospital, they're probably going for the others.”
“Yes, Firedancer!”
“Everyone else, stick to your assigned patrol patterns.”
Eleena’s nostrils flared as the rain began to stream down, drawn out of the dark clouds as if by some arcane force. The Twi’lek swoop ace had flown in bad conditions before, over in raging storms, in blizzards, and even over active volcanoes. Through it all, she had been able to maintain her composure, executing the mission in spite of limiting factors by compartmentalizing her thoughts to hold back any emotions which might impede her ability to perform. However, this storm was different. Wrought by arguably the most powerful Sith in galactic history, the anti-mentalism device integrated into her helmet could do little to blunt the sensation of looming fear which overcame her.
Attempting to recenter her thoughts, Eleena slowed down, briefly shutting off her comms as she did.
It was of no use.
And yet, fear came with its own host of benefits. A heightened sense of awareness allowed her to pick up the flying rancor which seemed to be lining her up in its sights, controlled by a humanoid rider. Big, cyan irises went wide as she processed the creature, a mental command directing the droid brains to keep tabs on it on her sensor readout.
"Reporting a bogey on my six. Gonna try to shake them off." Eleena comm'd in to her squadron, via the Eternal Imperial Battle Net, before taking a deep, focusing breath.
With naught but a thought, Eleena activated the Queen’s ion afterburners, sending her swoop rocketing forward at supersonic speed, approaching hypersonic velocity as she began to initiate a zoom climb, carrying her machine up into the cloud layer and beyond.
Panatha, Within the Eternal Empire's Borders Zambrano Palace BYOO: Serve her Dark Lord
Your will be done, my lord. Kah-ren-tah nomet teh Neb-Zut.
With those dark words passed between her mind and Carnifex's, she remained for some time as she cast her mind forth a second time, to those loyal few amidst the city of humanoid peoples. Perhaps a hundred of her people prowled in the shadows, all of them veteran assassins and cultists to do the bidding of their masters. And now, their dark directive was given with but a simple command that even the comatose could understand;
Find Invaders. Kill. Bring their skulls.
The occurrences amidst the city were all few and almost entirely isolated. Those killings that did occur, however, were uniformly brutal in the details; broken bodies, oft charred or taken apart limb from limb with the surrounding alleys drenched both in the viscera of violent endings, as well as the screams of pain that practically echoed beyond the grave through the Force. Ultimately, it was with the goal of terror and pleasing their dread Anubian god of the dead that these things happened, rather than any particular strategic goal. They are, after all, but assassins; rare will the military mind be among their number, and rarer still the tactics of soldiers. The Crusaders surely need not worry of any emergencies pertaining to operational integrity.
The efficiency of these killings will surely be cause for concern, however. That and how... cult-like they are. So very unlike the militant Panathans, it's not uncommon for these patrols to have strange, alien hieroglyphics to be drawn upon the floor and walls in their blood or a dark ink - or for severed heads to be mounted upon durasteel spikes, driven into the nearest hard surface that can hold the weight upright. Indeed, even the array of the bodies is occasionally like a macabre work of art.
Of course, Hasina would hardly leave herself out of the action. Such was her excitement at the potential for her own glorious killings that she briefly let her guard down. She remained entirely out of sight among the palace's throne room, but for a brief heartbeat it became so much easier to sense precisely where that dark-hearted killer was. Where it was going, what it intended, and just how much hate it was filled was all so, so easy to see.
Just for that one second. The Medjay had quickly caught herself, though she expected punishment from Khaine Zambrano for even that little mistake, surely - and she will welcome it. She is meant to be the perfect assassin, and the perfect assassin does not reveal their self unless they wish it.
As the dark side swelled across the planet - Neb-Zut's will made manifest within the storm clouds, from her point of view - she slipped into the underworks of the palace to take a secretive path into the city proper. At least, that was the original intent; sensing the presence of another Jedi warrior of Neith quickly took her attention, and she took glee in the possibility of a new hunt.
"I shall enjoy this kill, Jedi," she mutters to herself in the Anubian tongue, alone in the dark, dusty underpaths below.
Taozi hummed, as she spoke to Mig privately, keeping her eyes on the commander of the Ashlan fleet. She didn't feel any different? Oh well.
"Understood. Hopefully these aruetiise don't give me too much trouble."
Turning her full attention to the Ashlan commander, Taozi listened silently with a disapproving frown. The other woman's tears pulled no heart strings among the Mando'ade, and Feng even rolled her eyes at it off-screen.
"Doctored footage or not, it happened under what should have been you and yours watchful eyes. You are guilty by association, little crusader, and you won't find any sympathy for it from me and my vode. We were there on Concord Dawn ourselves, and witnessed the atrocities of the Sith firsthand...
"Hold a tighter leash, or you'll suffer the same fate as those you hate. You and yours have already made too many mistakes."
It was more of a warning than a threat, coming from Taozi. She looked over the reports sent over, and her face twisted in pure, absolute, disgust when she read that Mandalorians attacked a hospital. Where was the honor in that? Even an enemy hospital was off limits to those with honor. A slew of insults in Mando'a slipped from Taozi's mouth, and cries of outrage from the other Clan Tal members could be heard over the comms.
"These... These are no vode of mine. If I knew who these... disgusting cowards were I'd send their locations to Clan Mortui myself."
A quiet growl echoed from the figure in black behind Taozi, and she turned halfway around to face it calmly.
"Although, Ibnamairi wouldn't be a bad idea either. Perhaps later. For now... Feng, send those reports to our vode in other Clans, so that everyone can know which cowards to beat some sense into."
"Sending the information now."
Turning back to speak with the Ashlan commander again, a look of annoyance washed over Taozi's face. It quickly became clear to her than the commander had not told one of her subordinates to research who they were speaking to in the brief time they'd been talking, for is she had, she would not be doubting Taozi's presence over Panatha. Closing her eyes and taking a deep, calming, breath, Taozi pondered over the best way to respond without downright insulting the little crusaders.
"With all due respect, which is almost none after what you just implied I could be here to do, I would suggest you have one of your subordinates look into my Clan's background. It's become clear to me you know nothing of me or mine, so I would suggest you educate yourself before we converse further. We can discuss plans after you learn a thing or two."
Evacuation Zone Bravo, Panatha (East of the Palace)
In their attempts to secure the safety of the citizens, several evacuation points where set-up around the Palace and other designated areas. The main focus of the Wardens was to ensure the safety of people, women and children prioritized, before, if any , an outright invasion erupted. Most of the zones where flooded with fleeing, not quite refugees, people overwhelming the zones beyond their capacity to properly function.
Medical tents and the staff tirelessly dealt with the influx of injuries, most of which where non-life threatening, but there was the occasional death. Medical supplies, food, water, and other basic necessities where on the verge of dangerous exhaustion. The staff simply couldn't keep up.
Each zone was assigned a small compliment of guards and soldiers, most from the EE, to defend these zones from infiltrators. The main problem the defenders faced was the lack of communications not only from the Palace, but tthe blackouts molesting the radio links between the zones themselves. If a zone fell under attack, the other zones wouldn't be aware of the situation. The blackouts and disruptions were not an order from the EE, but sabotage produced by the enemy.
The mere sight of the state of evacuation zone bravo irked her. To label the zone either disorganized or disheveled was a disservice to the words. Guards strolled about uncaring of their duties. Bodies, in various states of injuries, though none mortally in danger, laid strewn about upon makeshift cots. Medical personal worked in lackadaisical fashion. Supplies of all kinds seemed to have been pillaged by pawing hands.
And like that, without warning, bravo zone was hot!
"Incoming," a voice screamed just as the gates leading into the zone burst wide open, spilling forth a small force, but bigger than the defensive guards, of enemy insurgents. Quickly the enemy opened fired, catching the guards and everyone by surprise. In mere seconds. the casualty rate rose, chaos and confusion muddling the minds of the defenders. Without even moving, Warden Mihaly watched the transpiring events unfold; unnerved and unfazed. She watched how the enemy was overwhelming the EE soldiers, their casualty rate lower than the EE's numbers. Tilting her head slightly to the right, she caught sight of the corpse belonging to the Knight Warden whose was in charge of keeping the zone in functioning shape. This made her the ruling Warden now.
As a Warden, it was expected of her to follow a mandate, a code of ethics, in a way that reflected the Wardens in a favorable light. However, she held a differing set of ethics, utilizing tactics other Wardens found brutal, malicious, and borderline psychopathic. Other Wardens once lobbied her removal from the Wardens, but Mikilanna also held another position; Overseer of the Science Development. And, unknown to many with the exception of a select few, harbored another secret, she was a Sith Lord; her alter persona's name sleeping on the lips of the dead who discovered it. To speak her Darth Name, was like invoking a death curse upon oneself.
With no other to interfere, she enacted her tactics by ordering the EE troops to charge the enemy without regard of their own lives, forcing the enemy to pause briefly enough for confusion to now invade their minds. With crisp steps, Mikilanna moved toward the enemy, her hilts swinging on her hips, catching blaster bolts and dissipating the energy with her bionic hand. Her bionic eyes and her mind focused harshly on the enemy whilst slowly removing her twin hilts, only igniting them when she stepped into a circle of four. The crystals in her lighstaber hilts, created specifically by her, activated one of their advantages; causing disorientation, nausea, and inflicting haunting, illusionary images in their collective minds, systematically putting them in a state of mental stasis.
Snarling and activating her bionic tail through the mental link up, she unleashed the retracted blades enhanced by inner technology that granted them enhanced devastating cutting power, and lashed her tail around their legs whilst she spun around. Flesh and meat ripped from cracking and breaking bones as legs were either severed or hanging religiously by tendons and sinew.
Only did her snarl transform into a murderous smile when the first howls of pain from the wounded enemy reached her ears.
Hei felt the wind begin to bite at the small exposed parts of his skin as the rain began to beat down on the pair. He felt a shiver down his spine as the darkness of the storm surrounded him, infused with the dark side, he felt Loki bristle as she reacted to the swirling wind and rain.
"Easy girl'" said Hei calmly, using his force connection with his friend to calm her. Reaching down into his bag he grabbed a small puffin like bird out of his pack and tossed it into the air in front of her head, she gleefully snapped it up and continued.
in the distance he saw the swoop squad engines light up and they ascended at a very high speed. Based on his assessment of their distance and relative speed, there was no way Loki could match their flight speed or agility. He hoped that there would be no combat, at this range he would certainly have the advantage with his rifle, but they would quickly overwhelm him.
He reached to his wrist and dialed in to his Huntsmen at their landing position. They would take off and fly towards him, but would keep their distance for now, he did not want to start an unnecessary fight with these riders.
Lightning flashed to the ground not far from him as the storm intensified and thunder rolled through the air. Loki grumbled as the thermal columns became more erratic and harder for her to predict, she was an exceptionally strong flyer so was more than capable of handling the current conditions, but was grumpy that she was having to do much more of the work herself now.
A pair of Ashlan starfighters buzzed passed a few hundred meters away from him on their own patrol route, clearly curious about this large creature on their air space. Hei fumbled with his communicator to check that the IFF circuits were running, no sense in getting shot down by friendly fighters.
"-She has ascended! As her forebears did, and should be inducted into the records of the divine." "Only when the ascension to the ranks of the hallowed dead is recognised shall her will be known." The gaunt scholar said, waving his skeletal finger in the faces of the congregation, summoning a mixed reception in the murmuring crew. He spread his arms dramatically, flourishing his purple robes as he opened his mouth to continue proselytising, but found himself cut off by another voice. "The ceremony must be done!"
"Nonsense! the Empress is out there somewhere, captured by her enemies and we must find her." A portly woman spoke, wearing garb of the Sith-Imperial raiment. There were few places in the galaxy one would brazenly show such an allegiance, but this shrine was one. A figure robed in black interjected "The Force is greater than any enemy of your former Empire, and the dark side is greatest yet. Only through the Force can this issue be resolved." "Had your people been steadfast, then the Empress would still be here." "My people?"
"Hierophants and militants, you all see the world without its true colours." "Our Empress is not just the daugter of Carnifex; she is also the daughter of Emma. Joycelyn Zambrano is a child of Vahl." Another figure, long and slim, clad in robes of red, interjected herself into the argument. "We must make sacrifices of blood and flesh in the name of Vahl to-" "Sacrilege on our sacred world!"
The room broke out and lines were drawn between the Panathans and the Vahla; Sith and Imperials. These supporters of the once Empress and Lord of the Sith, the Sword of Vahl and heir to Kaine Zambrano, were divided. This was not the first time the shrine was filled with raised voices. Blades had been drawn before, but blood had yet to be shed, and steps had yet to be taken.
Like hounds, they barked and postured- and they doubted.
Like hounds, they had to be led.
-----
"They are calling you now, can you feel it?"
"Am I ready?"
"Mind the prophecy and the path will be revealed."
In spite of the fact that neither side had yet to fire a single shot, an animating rush of fear and adrenaline coursed through Eleena’s veins as she maintained her steep ascent through the storm-laden atmosphere, soaring past a pair of Ashlan starfighters which failed to notice the brief blip on their sensors as the stealth-enhanced swoop continued its climb. The vehicle’s powerful, twin ion engines were technically capable of traveling into space, though Eleena began to lower the angle of her climb well short of that, especially as the lifeform signature of the flying rancor started to fade on her sensors.
With a deep breath, Eleena pulled on the vanes to pitch the nose of her swoop up, driving her machine into an ascending half-loop, followed by a half-roll to return to level flight. Still at high altitude, Eleena drove her swoop ahead for some time, intending to get far behind the bogey’s relative position. Before long, she initiated a looping descent back towards the direction of the city and the now-minuscule blip of the rancor’s lifeform signature on her sensors.
Having seized the altitude advantage, the diminutive swoop ace worked to control her speed, not wanting to descend too quickly at risk of losing it. Ideally, the rancor would be in guns’ range by the time she was given clearance to go weapons free, with her swoop bearing down on the rancor in a lead pursuit, creating an almost perfect firing solution. If not, she intended to try buzzing the flying beast, scaring it with the roar of her swoop’s ion engines, therefore potentially making the rancor more difficult for its rider to control.
"Yeah. vod. Can't put my finger on it but it's a good different." And with that the two Gred evec vessels would follow their Tal counterparts down to the surface. Mig had been... attempting to learn the planets language with some help from Tamar Gred
, but he was pretty sure she got more of a laugh at him trying to say words and royally flubbing them up. Thankfully one of the Tunnel Strill happened to know how to speak it or he'd have some issues right now. Soon, the corvette would land, and Mig would quickly start leading his clan to help get those that wanted to get off world off. And maybe some that were being more or less forced to leave. He would sigh a little. This would be like trying to get his own people to evacuate. Well, he had to try.
Mig would soon start directing the injured towards the Med I, and the others to the Arcon-class. He could practically the Ashen's coming, and he didn't like it. The idea of boarding worried him too. Him and other Mando'ade'jetii in his clan were Grey Force users, and if they found them out... he didn't know given the reports. He just focused on the job at hand, and hoped that nothing would go wrong.
Meanwhile, back in orbit, the Gred vessels had received the data that Taozi now sent out, and soon Atin'la, would speak up, knowing Kaddie had to stay quiet to keep his position hidden.
"Alor.... This.... What the osik!?" She wanted to turn her guns on the Ashen fleet right now, but she wouldn't. That would just cause more issues. She was there, like all the others, to keep the Tal fleet safe. Getting guns pointed there way wouldn't help. The AI had still been rattled by her brother's passing ramming a Bryn warship, so she had to do her best to keep cool for this mission. At the same time, the flak guns of the Shield-class vessels would turn in preparation to light the space between them and the Ashens with a cloud of shrapnel.
Pietro remained silent, taking in the words of Eina L'lerim-Vandiir
as she spoke. Though it was his desire to destroy the blight of Carnifex once and for all, he was not about to start a war with the Eternal Empire. And furthermore, he would not let civilians be caught in the crossfire. Too many had already suffered at the hands of the countless wars with the Sith, and the cardinal would do what he could to avoid the perpetuation of the violence.
"Your words ring true, and do not fall on deaf ears.I do understand the cultural circumstances of the Epicanthix. It is why I haven't yet given the order to attack. After all, I may have unconventional methods in the eyes of the Jedi, and my convictions may be strong, but make no mistake... I am still a Jedi."
He looked across the potential field of battle, eyeing the defenses of the enemy. They had received various transmissions, some more diplomatic than others. Pietro disregarded most of them, allowing the other leaders of the Crusade to handle some of the negotiations. The Crusade had nothing if they could not trust in the abilities of their comrades, and PIetro had faith that they would succeed in following the path of their Lady in the wake of potential war.
"We do not intend to hold the city hostage. We only want the former emperor. If the Empire wishes to remain neutral, as they always have, then they should be willing to work with us on this matter. We only came with an army because we know the family's history with this planet. And though the empress has maintained good faith with us, we simply can not trust Carnifex to do the same. We have to take steps to protect ourselves."
He turned back to her, a reassuring look upon his face.
"I give you my word, if you help us facilitate negotiations, then the first shots will not be from us. Should the Empire wish to parlay, then I can guarantee that anyone to break negotiations on our side will answer to me."
For a moment, his face was overshadowed with a lingering sense of realism.
"I am counting on you in this. If they attack, I will be forced to order my troops to defend themselves. I am hoping that you can help prevent that."
Pietro noticed one of the defenders approaching, clad in armor and unignited blade in hand. He was not familiar with her, but he could sense the presence of the Bogan resonating within her. He took a moment to gather himself. Pietro was not known for keeping himself restrained around those that followed the darkness, but for now, he would oblige. He motioned for the Holy Guard to stay in position, and approached the stranger alone.
"Greetings. I am Pietro Demici, Minister of Faith and Cardinal of the Ashlan Crusade. I would like to apologize for our aggressive appearance. You see, we have information that the former Sith emperor is present, and when dealing with such an individual, one can not be too careful."
He didn't bother drawing his lightsaber, instead attempting to remain unthreatening, at least, as best as he could, given the circumstances.
"We do not wish to start a war, and I am sure that you don't either. I understand that we have a certain reputation, but despite what has been said of us, we only seek justice."
He looked over her shoulder, gazing at the forces behind her.
"I come to you alone, without even my guards, as a sign of good faith. I pray that such good faith will be returned in kind."
The situation was tense, and the slightest wrong move from either side could cause things to blow like a powder keg. He had to take each step carefully to avoid all out war.
Standing before the palace and operating as overall head of the defense, Adenn was the Alor countless people wished to speak to. Of course he had others to deal with the worst of it, but often enough those messages were still sent to Adenn as they were deemed important enough. Those reports more often than not were simply of troop movements, but the more important one was engagements. And by Manda, there were far more engagements than a force coming in peace should have. Not that Adenn believed that osik, after all they were a literal invasion force that didn't frak off when told to.
But right now, Adenn wasn't focused on those reports, he was focused on Star and Aditya, and the news they bore. Taking in a sudden breath, Adenn found himself leaning forward and against Aditya, using her to support his suddenly weak and shocked form. Yasha, the true Yasha, yet lived and with more children. Wide eyes closed behind his helmet as he took another deep breath, steadying himself but still leaning heavily against Aditya.
"She's alive... Yash is alive..."
Head tilted down, Adenn says nothing, instead taking deeper breaths to try and calm himself. Pushing his helmet up, the first time he had ever done so in a near combat zone, Adenn pinched the bridge of his nose. Face all but covered by the hand, his other remained on Aditya's shoulder as he took deeper breaths. Plans form and fall apart, even as shock still courses through him, but one stood out more than the others to him.
"I need to see them."
Elsewhere at the same time, the messages from the AC come in at the hospital. Both the video of the Mandalorians attacking a hospital, and another request to hold a truce there. The Al'verde of the Mandalorians there and the Priest, Gerak Kierke, exchanged glances at that. Of the two, the Mandalorian was clearing angry while the Priest was shocked, but also annoyed by the continued insistence of coming closer to the hospital. They both begin to speak at the same time but stop at once, exchanging another glance. Then Gerak nods, allowing the Al'verde to speak first, for it's clear he has words to exchange with the AC. As he spoke, his voice was a low growl, and it was clear he was barely holding himself back from shouting.
"You dare... to compare US to such scum?! By the Manda you don't know who you're dealing with, you simply lump us all together. I am Al'verde Kraw of Clan Mortui, and we have defended countless hospitals against attacks such as that. Defended our wounded against those who wound take them from us, and defended against such fools as you. The ones who attacked that hospital are no Mandalorians, they are dar'manda, nay... dar'aliit. Just as you had no desire for for your allies to commit such burning crimes, we held no control over those who committed such crimes." Leaning forward, the Al'verde snarled over comms before continuing. "However, unlike you those were never our allies, nor could we control them. So don't you dare compare us to them, especially when you have been far worse."
Stepping back, the Al'verde's eyes were widened in rage, prompting him to step back and begin pacing, rage in every step. Gerak took the time to place a calming hand on the Mando's shoulder, before turning to the command stepping forth as well. When he speaks, it's far calmer than his counterpart, but there is still quiet fury there.
"You invade our sovereign territory, demand the removal of a portion of our people, and refuse to leave when told to. And then you dishonor us by all but demanding to protect our wounded and sick?! You know nothing of honor! It's won on the field of battle, not by some trite off-worlder, pseudo-nobility that claims to do no harm. Harm is done by your very presence! You want to have peace, to protect this place from belligerents? Then remove yourselves, immediately! The only belligerents are you, every last one of you! If you want to prove your worth to us, get off our world. We neither desire your presence, nor do we need what flimsy protection you provide. Any one of our warriors is more than a match for a hundred of yours, so get out!"
Behind him there are cheers from citizens of the planet, Panathans one and all. Some take up the cry of 'Get out', while others simply cheer the words of their Priest. But of them, the Mandalorians are silent, instead glowering with anger at the AC. Their resolve has never been stronger, nor their desire clearer, but they will also wait. Still, there is a deadly focus in their step now, even as cries of 'Get out' ring ever louder towards the AC lines. There is no love for the foolish crusaders in this hospital, nor are they welcome.
And all across the city and palace the weather turns sour, rain begins to fall and thunder is heard. It's clearly because of the Force battle inside the palace, but to those less attuned it simply is. Even if the weather perfectly reflects Clan Mortuis mood currently. Their cries and the importance of the video garner Adenn's attention for a moment as he receives yet another report. Steel-grey eyes opening, they harden with resolve as Adenn hears the short report. Looking up with new resolve, Adenn slips his helmet back down, fully returning to the warrior king he was. Standing fully upright, Adenn turned from his wife and daughter, looking back towards the city and the defenses. Stepping towards the edge, his arms cross behind his back as he considers his words carefully.
Two things happen in those moments of contemplation. One, Gunnr enters her battle meditation and begins instilling a feeling of protectiveness towards the city, or Adenns case, amplifying it. Two, a report reaches Adenn's ears of an attack upon an evacuation site. In his mentally comprised state, Adenn was volatile, and livid. Snarling, Adenn's hands tighten into fists, even as his Beskad Elite shift uncertainly. He was positively livid, in a way that only his closest have seen, and only his Beskad Elite have seen in recent times. And even then, that last time had been a blood bath for the enemy, and a tough fight for them, so they were understandably nervous. Head tilted up, rain falls down his helmet, giving the impression that his helmet is crying with rage. Adenn speaks then, his voice a low, angry rumble.
"We have indulged the areutiis too long. Look at the damn fools, thinking themselves so shabla superior." He snarls once more, turning half towards his family, his aliit. "These fools haven't listened, so let us show them the error of their ways."
Turning forward, back to the camera that had been set up just for such speeches. Waiting for it to activate to allied forces, Adenn spoke once it activated. Behind him were his aliit and their guard, above Hell's Angel, and before them a city to defend.
"My vode, my aliit of the Mando'ade and of Panatha. These areutiise have come here, to our planet, our home, and simply invaded. They have rejected our calls to leave, refused to honor the sovereignty of this planet and her people. Then they claimed to come in peace, only seeking to target the Zambranos. I have received a half dozen reports of their forces engaging our own, of them being the aggressor! Not only have they invaded Panatha, they have refused to leave, and then attacked us."
Adenn was glaring at the camera now, posture radiating anger and confidence in equal measure. His eye lenses flashed in the encroaching darkness, Jaig Eyes gleamed in the flash of lightning, and the white of his skull helm seemingly glowed.
"All forces, I will not stand by as our people die before these invaders, nor will I accept anything but their deaths in return for this unwarranted attack. They have struck first, but we will strike last. To every Panathan, Mandalorian, and other that defends this city, this palace, and these people. Unleash hell upon these foolish crusaders, return their attacks a hundred fold. All troops, open fire."
His final words to the camera and the defenders were spoken utterly calmly. He had gone full circle, from full blown rage back into eery calm, but with a core of fury that would not and could not be extinguished. It was a flame that had been ignited by the idea of others attacking his wife's home, fueled by their disregard to sovereignty and commands given. Further stoked by the attacks of the so called peaceful invaders, and finally sent over the edge by those final messages and Gunnr's battle meditation. Now he stood there entirely calmly and detached, even as chaos broke loose across the city.
To the Ashlan Crusaders, there was no forewarning, no challenging cry, nothing. Life went from stressful, but peaceful, to a warzone in an instant. The Panathans had been looking for an excuse, any excuse, to drive the invaders away. Their warrior culture demanded blood be spilt for the dishonor given them this day. Thus, when news reached them from Adenn that their own had been struck, they were driven to rage. That rage was heightened by the battle meditation at work and the chants and war cries of their Priests. Thus, when the order to fire came, they did so with precise abandon, letting hell loose upon the invaders.
As for the Mandalorians, for Clan Mortui most definitely at least, they knew and respected Adenn. They'd follow him into hell itself with a smile on their face, because he would sell their lives dearly, and would march every step of the way with them. Clan Mortui trusted him implicitly, moreso than the simply matter of Alor to clan, but that of unending and undying trust. When the order to fire came, they did so, fueled on by the comparison of the dar'aliit to them and battle meditation making them closer to Panatha than they had thought possible.
Of course, not all forces would open fire, not immediately. There were those under others commands, but enough would fire of the Mando'ade and Panathans that war would consume them all, and then the Ashlans would be driven off with bloody violence. Most notably though, those forces defending the hospital did not open fire. They would honor the calls for truce at the hospitals location, even if they would allow no outsiders close, they would not bring bloodshed there first. Still, they were prepared to repulse any assault, evidenced by the troops all being in trenches, bunkers, or vehicles. They watched and waited to see if the AC would honor their side as well.
From the trenches and bunkers, blaster fire and slugthrowers spat bolts and bullets. Whether from regular foot soldiers or AT-ADs, bolts and bullets streamed forth, aiming to cut down any troops. Rockets were launched, whether from shoulder mounted weapons or regular wrist weapons, they streaked forth towards tanks and vehicles. Across the lines tanks and walkers opened fire as well. From the Titan Tanks, missiles rained forth in a seemingly unending wave, both towards ground targets or enemy fighters. Hellwalkers target Heavy Tanks, raining fire from primary canons and secondary emplacements. With them the ProtecTraks activated, slowly forming bubble shields across large swathes of the city and aiming to prevent enemy fire from hitting friendly lines.
And above them all, Heavy Walkers fired down streets and highways towards Ashlan vehicles. Mass drivers targeted Heavy Tanks and rocket pods shoot towards Medium Tanks. Some don't fire and instead advance towards the lines, moving to bolster the line prematurely. Above even the tall Heavy Walkers, Hell's Angel whirs to life. Slowly turning, the massive engine of war spins its assault laser cannon to life, turning to aim towards a distant invasion ship. And at the very top, the artillery cannons track up and begin aiming towards enemy armor lines.
Below, Adenn still stood, eerily calm despite the sudden outburst of chaos. With his arms still crossed behind him, Adenn turns to look up at Hell's Angel, appreciating the giant machine. Activating one final comm, Adenn sends out an open message to the AC.
"For the ones you've killed so far, and your refusal to leave, you now die."
With a distinct click, the call ends and Adenn turns to his family. Arms uncrossing behind his back, he pulls E'care from his back as his robotic extra arms spin to life, drawing forth their own weapons. Chaos is all around and Adenn is still that eery, livid calm.
"For our aliit."
Action Summary
New reports of confrontations and engagements with AC forces.
Hospital confronts AC group and tells them to frak off, they aren't those kinds of Mandos nor do they need help defending their own.
As Adenn is in a fragile emotional state, he is severely affected by the battle meditation and reports of engagements. Tells forces about the various attacks and calls on their warriors cultures.
All forces are ordered to open fire, most do.
Regular soldiers and AT-ADs fire upon medium tanks and infantry. Titan Tanks target medium tanks and air assets. Hellwalkers open fire on Heavy Tanks, Heavy Walkers do the same. Hell's Angel charges weapons and aimes at one lander, while artillery aims at more tanks.
Aedan looked up as he heard the loud noises of weapons fire a bored grin crossing his lips as he turned and held his hand up fist clenched before finally letting his fist drop as his men opened fire over his head. The Cragmaloids of the Red Fang that had them firing the Dar'yaim cannons in a spread letting the fire aim at the front ranks of the men waiting for word from their leader who at this point was speaking to someone from the Sith side of the lines. Aedans grin bored as he watched the explosive shells rain down towards the enemy even as the rest of units opened fire at what was clearly almost extreme range. Turning away from the front Aedan pulled off one of the gauntlets of his armor pulling the ring from around his neck he slipped it onto his finger. Eyes half closing as he felt the draw on his force the aura of fear spiking even as those nearby shifted slightly the battle meditation helping them stay on task even through the surge of fear. Striding towards Deimos who rested towards the rear clad in the armor that had been made long ago he swung himself into the saddle and grasped the reins giving them a tug even as his mind reached out to Deimos's a single thought filling the dragons mind. "BURN THEM!" With a loud roar the dragon took flight Aedan gripping his scythe with one hand as his mount soared over his mens ranks.
Aedan's mismatched eyes looked down at where the man Pietro Demici
was speaking to a female in rather intimidating armor Lilanna Kelamvor
he ignored them guiding Deimos towards the ranks of the men Pietro had brought along with his mind. Looking down at them with a sneer under his helmet he thought to his dragon calmly as he looked down at them. "Strafe them and burn as many as you can. Do not get to low my friend the fight will be long." With that out of the way he felt as Deimos's wings folded in against his armored side and than the watched as the ground came tearing up towards them eyes gleaming almost savagely as he let out a bark of laughter. Finally Deimos's wings snapped open catching the wind and gliding over the ranks of the army even as its maw spread breathing out its purple flames below. As this happened Aedan reached within himself drawing up all the negative emotions he could while activating battle meditation himself focusing not on his men but those of the enemy letting his powers surge forth in an attempt to discourage them even as the ring resting under his gauntlet seemed to surge drawing on his power to exude an aura of fear that was boosted by the aura of Deimos himself.
Red Fang open fire with all weaponary heavy weapons aiming explosive shells to hit amongst the front ranks of the forces arrayed behind Pietro Demici
Winter Wolves falling back and taking cover in trenches preparing for defensive actions.
The rest of the Red Fang open up with weapons fire most likely at extreme range.
Aedan and Deimos take to the sky's flying over the forces arrayed behind Pietro Demici
fear aura in full effect and Deimos breathing flame on the enemy ranks.
My arms yank around my husband, armour steadying armour. Panatha comes into a sick focus, this planet I fought so hard to leave became the crux point of all living ends. The last transmission from our daughter’s buy’ce on Mandalore the day she died veers into focus, words whispered in Epicant over the death-shudders of Yasha’s torn-up lungs. I don’t need to listen to the transmission again, I’ve heard it two hundred eleven times. Maybe three hundred. As Adenn pulls off his helm, I yank off mine. I know Stardust will protect us, the Aliit can give us 90 seconds. I brush my gauntlet-clad hand over his cheek, hold the back of his neck as cold, black and red eyes stare into him, my arm secure around his waist.
My strength is his, as his is mine.
“The shabla di’kut kept his word. He is an evil, evil man and deserves… gods… I don’t even know what that man deserves… but I know… if there’s any good in him, she’s alive. And all these idiotic zealots, who think invasions can be peaceful when their tyranny supersedes the welfare of an entire world, they’re here to take her. Feck me, whatever happens today, this battle does not end until our babies and grandbabies are in our arms.”
My lips crash against his, I shudder a gasping breath as half of me wants to break and burst and sob without ceasing for the sheer nerves produced by this impossible situation. Is Darth Carnifex evil? The living definition. But this isn’t about Kaine Zambrano, it’s about foreign zealots, who thought their own selfish desires mean more than an entire planet’s good nature. Pulling back, I nudge Adenn’s helmet, my voice quiet in its’ rage. “<Mando’ad. The Aruetiise dare take what is ours, and once more claim we are the villains for not letting them walk upon our spines. We answer them back. Loud, clear and with a fury they shall never understand. My people are strong. Oya.>”
A storm and its’ cacophony rages upon the air, and I know in my shrinking heart it’s Kaine Zambrano declaring his will to not go quietly. To remain hale, whole and summarily upon the planet of his birth. As my buy’ce’s HUD boots back up, I cackle out a laugh, my father the Priest Girak Kierke manning the hospital and ‘negotiating’ with the forces at the Hospital. I flick my comm to the open channel (Isla Draellix-KobitanaPietro Demici
), and speak.
“Goddess and Gods, you invade our world with a massive military force, then condemn us for picking up weapons!? What mercy you thought you worked under is a false pane of glass! Not transparisteel, cracking glass. Let me say it in language you off-worlders will understand. You are not welcome on Panatha! You invaded us, regardless of intent, refused to leave. In any planet, continent, political system or group of younglings, that’s wrong! GET OFF OUR WORLD!” The guns of Clan Mortui go off, and I feel the buzz of communications channels across Panatha. Battles rage, a planet full of warrior-giants (most of us are at least seven feet tall) defending their homes from these so called ‘peaceful’ invaders.
Peaceful means no tanks and threats, by the bye. For reference, in case anyone was hazy on the definition. Maybe next time the Ashlans could send out a pamphlet? Set up talks on, I don’t know, a station in neutral space. Sittin’ a few dozen armies on someone’s lawn then making demands, but calling it peaceful ain’t much what I remember of the word.
Panathans, some in armour, most in their civilian clothing, are armed with blasters, swords, the odd lightsaber, hand to hand combat weapons. The military of King Adriel is rushing into the gaps, setting traps to stop tanks with anti-gravs, pulse grenades and impromptu explosives. They swing into the battle columns with the Mandalorians on-world.
“Clan Cadera. House Fitz-Kierke… defend the Temples, strengthen the Hospital. Don’t let my Daddy get too far into the thick.” The sound of loping quadrupeds hit my auditory canals, as the Gurlanin of Clan Cadera shed their humanoid skin for the canid-marsupial animals of their true sentient forms. One, with shaggy grey hair atop his spine in a crest, howls Ambrose Cadera
. They form a loose ‘v’ in front of Girak Kierke, the Priest at the hospital, and growl low in their polymorphic throats.
Citizens, who had no abilities in combat swarmed to the Temples of Nereus, Nussyn and Neaos, where they could not, or did not wish to evacuate.
The Gurlanin clacked their jaws, teeth bare and the rumbles of their growls hit the air with the potency of Darth Carnifex
’s storm as they stalked toward the Sisters of Ashla and their guns. The rage-filled telepathic voice of Ambrose floods forward, to the Sisters of Ashla, ‘You are the belligerents, here, little bi-peds.’ Two more Gurlanin slaked their jaws, tongues lashed out in threat and hunger. A half-dozen Priests and a dozen Priestesses ventured out from the confines of the hospital, nurses, orderlies, even doctors arming themselves against the so-called truce speakers.
“Your refusal to vacate our world is threat enough to prove the deficit in your quality.” Girak Kierke settled into a loose fighter’s stance, hands stilled as he began to chant in Epicant a Prayer to Nereus. Those dressed in the same drapery behind him followed suit, the sigils on their hands glowed deep ambers and yellows. A bitter, but warm wind fluttered round them, as Girak snaps his eyes back upon the Sisters of Ashla.
Black and red eyes.
The hallmark of House Fitz-Kierke, the promise of the Force since the Kierke family were shaman-farmers before Qocia or Canthar were grass huts. He clapped his hands together, and those behind him followed suit. A shimmering Force Barrier flowed from their collective hands, beginning to engulf the Hospital, as more and more Priests and Priestesses, along with Force-Sensitive Panathan Citizens brought their passions and protections to bear. Weapon’s fire consumed the air around Canthar, the echoes of battles rung in Girak’s ears, farther off for the moment. But what would these invaders do, once the guns blared, would their supposed offer of protection have them turn their mortars and fire on the hospital?
“We do not require your pretence of truce, while you dominate our world.” While a neutral ability in and of itself, the Force Barrier felt the advantage of Gunnr Zambrano
, Girak Cadera
, @Skorvek’s combined Battle Meditation.
TL'DR:
Priest Girak Kierke & the Priests & Priestesses around the hospital begin to cast a Force Barrier, aided by the Battle Meditation happening in the Palace. They've told the AC to leave. Gurlanin are appearing to begin defending, but have not yet engaged the Sisters of Ashla.
Panathan citizens & those incapable of fighting are swarming to the Temples (those, who will not or cannot get to the evacuation points). The Temples are being protected by House Fitz-Kierke & Clan Cadera forces.
Stardust had to shut her eyes, this level of power she hasn't felt in gods knows how long, it was only amplified by the storm as stardust let a shaky breath out as more power flowed into her from gunnr, magnus, and skorvek. Stardust nearly crawled getting away from her father and mother as the very air around her began to shimmer with heat and the synthetic skin off her cybernetics began to melt and drip away and soon dripped off the edge as she sat down as she smiled wildly and opened her eyes
stay back away from me buirs... this is about to get hot!
The invaders before her were aplenty, taking a few breaths she contained herself as even the heat was getting to her now! Sweat poured from her face as she raised her hands shaking as energy cracked around her from the pure heat, decades of training with pyrokinesis brought her to this moment as anger and passion mixed into one, with her resolve strengthened she formed a array of fire balls above her. Some rangers from as wide and big as your standard pen to large as 3 feet round
YOU DARE TO JUDGE WHAT HAS NOT BEEN COMMITTED FOR THE ACTIONS OF A FEW? AND DARE TO LUMP US IN WITH DISHORNABLE DAR'MANDA?!?!?! I WILL SHOW YOU TRUE JUDGMENT! BEGONE! IN ASHES!
With that she through one hand forward, sending a volley of the fireballs, the smallest ones flew quickly threw the air like darts that could pierce hrough unarmored or lightly armored, the large ones however flew slightly slower and when they hit they exploded violently throwing fire in each direction. Star kept the volley up towards the enemy with a grin on her face before she calmed herself and focused
Either by fire or retreating she would make them leave
Objective3: Blockade Location: Panatha planetary orbit. Fleet:
Flagship Ember's Cresent (Absolution Class Star Battlecarrier)
4x Gala Fighter MK II Squadrons
1x Luna Troop Transport Squadron
3x Savant Class MG-BDT2 Bomber Squadrons
2x Levasseur Class Corvette
5x Baron Class Escort Frigate
8x Skirmisher Class Frigate
Full complements of EE Marines and soldiers on board.
Admiral Stirric Vetch slid his thumb from the outer comms and let out an exsasperated sigh.
'Thank Ferric' he thought, little realising he had spoken aloud. He had thought the matter would have escalated to violence though he had hoped greatly that would not be the case.
"Hallier, get me comm access to Grand Admiral Draellix". There was a reserved urgency to Stirric's voice. He knew he couldn't risk turning this situation away. "Comms ready, Admiral". Hallier glowed. If she was nervous about the following encounter, the young officer did not show it. Stirric adjusted the medals on his uniform before keying the comm. It would be good for an opponemt, even a formal one, to know of his accomplishments.
"Grand Admiral Draellix", he began. "I thank you for your response and I appreciate your acceptance of my parley. Rest assured, I can understand your situation and I, too, know of wishing revenge on those that have wronged you. However, you must understand we cannot allow outside forces to apprehend citizens- even convicted criminals- under empire protection without consequences".
He paused for a moment, if he wished to be delicate, he'd need to choose his next words carefully.
"What would start with the Zambrano family would invite other civilisations to seek possession of others." Stirric gazed down for a moment, the multitude of consoles before him holding no real meaning. When he looked back to the comm, a genuine sadness filled his face.
"Whilst I do not approve of the actions of the Zambrano's, it is my duty to protect them. We have no reason for conflict with you as I am certain you do not wish conflict with us. I emplore you, forgive their actions. Or, failing that, have them stand trial for their crimes legally. "
Stirric spared a glance back to his crew. Their faces expectant as they hovered over their stations. Stirric gestured his hand in a lowering motion. He then turned his attention back.
"We all have people we need to protect. I trust you to make the right decision. Admiral Stirric Vetch signing off".
He keyed off the comm and turned his gaze to the central viewport. He stared out for a long while.
Clambering up onto the firestep, Major Autem stared out across the port's eastern concourse. The weather had changed in time she'd been inside, unnaturally so. The skies above had darkened, taking on a red hue that was, she had to admit, very unlike the Panatha she had known during her youth. Lightning riddled the storm clouds that roiled above the city. From this distance, Cor could see small swoop-like craft flitting here and there. Who they belonged to was unclear, but the assumption was that both sides had aerial units out and about.
Perhaps a few had even taken to dog fighting. If they had, the Major was unaware. News was slow in coming, leaving the third on edge. Cor was on edge, too, truth be told. With some effort, she recalled an old adage, 'no news is good news'. She wasn't sure if that was true in this case. No news meant things had either drawn to a tense standstill or had devolved so rapidly that her comrades hadn't the time to tell her. Right now Lilanna Kelamvor
and the battalions under her command could be battling it out around the palace against hordes of crusaders. The thought of sitting by the wayside whilst her brothers and sisters fought and died left Corin feeling sick to her stomach.
So she stopped thinking about it altogether. Instead, she looked to the blood-red skies as it began to rain. A drop landed on her helmet. Then, another. Before long, the world around her came alive to the sound of pouring rain. The deluge was punctuated by the sound of distant thunderclaps. Or were those explosions? Staring out through the downpour, Corin tried to make out movement or signs of combat. Her armor's HUD and target acquisition tried to make sense of the weather to no avail.
Letting out a silent curse, the Major turned to the soldier beside her. "Let me know if anything changes here. I'm going back inside." Nodding, the soldier kept his eyes trained across the open space beyond the Ultranauts' defensive line as he replied. "Understood, sir. I'll inform you if the Ashla try anything." Turning, Corin hopped down from the firestep, the ground beneath her feet already growing slick and slippery from the rain. Banish rose from his haunches and trotted over to her side as she landed, bringing with him an idea.
Turning back to the wall, Corin unclipped the Valdr Skær-Pattern Dual-Role Droid Control Unit from her belt. The device was linked to her suit's biometrics. If she wanted, she could've done what she was about to do without using her hands, but the simple act of actually doing something calmed her nerves somewhat. She needed that. Linking with a half-dozen of the nearest wolf droids, Corin sent them bounding up the firestep and over the wall, the slight whining of their servos lost in the rain. Hopping back up, she watched as they disappeared into the gloom.
"Here, corporal, more eyes for the watch." Linking the droid's sensor feeds to her comrade, she waited a moment for the device to connect before clipping it back to her belt. Now, with the droids watching the perimeter, the soldier would be able to keep a better watch, ensuring the crusaders didn't make the most of the weather by launching a surprise attack. "Thanks, Major. It's nice to know our four-legged friends aren't just for show." Waving his thanks away, Corin jumped back down.
"No worries, Adros, just making sure our uninvited guests don't catch us with our pants down." Smiling, she returned the salute he threw at her. "Right. I'm going back in before the rain works it's way inside my armor. Have fun, kiddos."
She had barely gotten inside by the time her comlink chirped. Accepting the connection request, she stepped aside as a squad of Ultranauts left through the entrance she'd just used.
Darth Carnifex
Skorvek
Aedan Miles
Adenn Kyramud
Taozi Fuyuan
Girak Cadera
Cedric Grayson
Those who want to tear at her family
Ingrid L'lerim
. Evacuation… yet, Gunnr scooped up her inflicted son Girak and carried him to the couch. Set him beside her and wrapped her arms around him, his back to her embrace. She kissed his hair, held him close and whispered. "Girak-Kaine, named for your forefathers... you are touched by the Force in a way many cannot fathom. So you and I are going to help father... breathe with me. Concentrate on my voice. Follow me to the epicentre of Him... now... strength and will. Give him strength, add your will to his own... That's it... follow me..."
