Campaign Devil You Know: Campaign to SJC Held Myrkr (Myrkr, Velmor, Orleon, Azure, Katarr)

[Mazrim Caide/Taim]

He waves his hand, his face as stoic and unmoved as always, those calculating blue eyes watching her like one watches an opponent in chess.

"No thank you, I've campaigned for too long. All I can stomach these days is rations unless I've been on leave for a while. So, you're a sniper, and a valuable one considering they sent a legionnaire all the way out here to assist you. Is there a mission here, or was he the target?" He jabs a thumb at the captured jedi. "And if so, why keep him alive? They don't usually send snipers to bring home living targets."

Tags: Ruek Tast

 

[Ruek Tast]

Location: Around a campfire
Interacting with: Mazrim Caide/Taim

- - -​

The black markings of her temples stretched down as she furrowed her brow.

Why had they sent him to collect her? She recalled the recognition granted by Darth Prazutis for her work during the prisoner exchange. But would shuffling Jedi, even a grand master, be cause for a personal escort? Ruek had slowly rose in ranks, but life as a shadow was supposedly without fanfare.

"The mission is same as what thousands of our brothers and sisters are doing on this planet. Fight back the Jedi who threaten the borders of our Empire."

She took another sip of tea, "He's a master, but a poor excuse for one. Our leaders like having them alive for questioning."

Quickly she glanced to him, a shot of wariness in her eye as she spoke, "What are you ensuring evac from? Have we lost?"

 

[Cara Dorniarn]

Dueling: Mig Gred
Location: Soon to be Not-Hyllyard
Gear: Personal armor, Judicator, KS-9 'Firestorm' Grenade x2, Sonic Imploder x2, Vibroknife x2

_________________________________________________________________________________________________
​

He had mirrored her action and bared his face before speaking his price.

It was cheap, too cheap, and suspicion lit in her mind as she put on a level voice, "No tracers. No information. Agreed."

She limped up into Echo's Light, giving the quick-tempered droid a hot glare as she passed by it. She cursed that her blue KR-TB "Doomtreader" was so far away. Never had she needed the Azure Star so badly to save both her skin and pride. Yet even with the wound to her ego there was no sense lying to herself. She knew she would have still chosen to take the transport. To be among the teams that brought support to the Empire's forces was an honor she held close, and in honesty she mourned the loss of the talented men and women under her watch.

As the doors closed behind Cara scanned the room. Oddly enough it had the lived in qualities of her own craft.

"Of course he's a family man. Probably married since he was 18 cycles and has ten children."

It was a gross stereotype and one she knew fully was untrue. Cara had studied all facets of Mandalorian culture, from their religion to their family structures, knowing them almost as well as a native. Almost. But since she agreed to not hurt Mig physically she turned to lashing him mentally, anything to relieve the embarrassment she felt.

She wobbled closer toward the pilot's cabin, hesitant of relying on a droid to get them out of there quick enough. She looked to Mig and asked in fluent Mando'a,

<"I realize it's too much to ask to be a co-pilot, but I'd feel better doing something to get off of this predestined crater.">

 

[Kaia Vullen]

KATARR
Val Erides: Ruins of a Miraluka Settlement.
Nica Dakkar

The forest was a good place.

While it blocked the rays of the sun and cast its undergrowth in shifting shadow, there was no evil in that lack of light. The forest was full of creatures, full of plants, full of life. Life was in the very soil, though life had once been eaten, it had come back and sustained new inhabitants.

Kaia had gotten to know Katarr, the land, the spirits that struggled to pass on, the animals who dwelled both alongside the domisciles of sentients and those who sought refuge in the wild.

Her feet followed a path they had maintained through the woods, turning sharply up into one of the massive sierras that framed Val Erides. The path had once been a road, but the grass had broken it into rubble. Only grazing animals now maintained it and they were content with dense growth.

Kaia did not mind it either.

As she ran, she cast her mind out to the animals she knew would be there. She cast out a beacon of help, a plea for protection.

As soon as the legionnaires followed the dense footpath, the trees began to rustle. Birds chirped loudly and flew past in distracting patterns. Some of the larger birds even went as far as to peck on their helmets as they passed. They attacked from the side and rear, seeking to drive the legionnaires in further.

The trees creaked, dissatisfied, old and cranky, full of aches.

Then came the stampede.

Nerfs, brought to Katarr from Alderaan to help the new settlers, rushed through the forest. Their large forms knocked aside trees and flattened grass as they flanked the patrol. They did not stay to fight, however, but scattered back into the wild as soon as they could after making impact.

However, high above, mechanical contraptions were sent out to find Kaia. Those were not so easily charmed.

 

[Caedyn Arenais]

Location: Troop Transport, descending for the ground.
Personal Inventory: Caedyn's Jedi robes, Armistice Lightsaber.
Opponent: Nan'eth'illa

​

The entrance of Nan'eth'illa was something else, least of all what Caedyn Arenais had expected on the way towards the battle on the surface of Myrkr; The Woman's claim that everyone was going to die however with little context was most unusual. Frankly, every one of the Men and Women aboard the transport were aware of the risks when stepping into a battle-zone, thus the Jedi Knight was forced to wonder what this newcomer supposedly knew that they did not.

"Death is usually what comes from an Invasion of the Sith Empire" Caedyn countered her claims with the unfortunate truth, "I'm going to hazard a guess that you're one of theirs" he added, pointing out the obvious. Her arrival and the manner of which was anything if not invasive and full of risks, the likelihood of a confrontation being one of them as a couple of the soldiers from the squad within the troop compartment had readied their weapons in her direction.

"That's an interesting way of initiating a negotiation..." Caedyn continued, his left hand reaching out from his side a little, gesturing to the men behind him to lower their firearms. The last thing Caedyn wanted was for their to be a fight in such small confines as a transport shuttle.

"I'm afraid I'm all to aware of the Empire's methods of war" He informed the Woman, "This wouldn't be the first time I've taken up the sword against them. There are civilians down there, and while I'm not fond of having to fight, I would rather put my life on the front lines so that they might live", that was the conviction of every Jedi from the Silver Concord who had arrived to defend Myrkr, Velmor, Orlean, Katarr and Azure.​

 

[Mathieu Brion]

Location: Den Velmor, Velmor
Equipment: Ashlas wristguard | Blaster pistol with a stun setting | Stun baton | Two Lightsabres | Brion Substance Regulator | Electromagnetic pulse emitter | Jedi Robes
Allied tag: Inara Basai | Palm-Imer
Hostile tag: Joycelyn Zambrano

The Sith giant was more slippery than he had anticipated, for even when tackled, she seemed to have found a way to escape his grasp and make good use of the momentum. It is why he didn't expect her to redirect him either - but it was probably for the best, regardless. Getting back up on his feet without also receiving a punch to the gut from her was preferable.

Pilots and civilians were still waging a fierce war in the skies. Several evacuation shuttles had managed to escape already - the defenders were doing their job well. Whenever an Imperial vessel went in for a run against a transport ship, a Concord fighter always seemed to be there, ready to intercept. And the few times during which none were available, one of the local civilian freighters would sweep in to save the day.

Most of this went by without Mathieu even noticing. His focus was on the battle at hand - it had to be. But then, a series of red lasers could be seen, not too far away. An Imperial fighter had managed to strike true and had filled a Velmorian freighter with laser bolts, causing it to catch fire and for the pilot to loose control of their ship.

Mathieu couldn't help put to divert his eyes from the Sith for a moment to throw a glance at the ship. Almost immediately, it disappeared behind the tall buildings and crashed in a fiery explosion a few blocks away. The Padawan let out a sad sigh - for he knew that the pilot of the vessel and whoever else was aboard probably weren't trained soldiers. It was more likely civilians. People who had never signed up for war, death and tragedy. It was just some locals who couldn't stand to see their fellow Velmorians slaughtered or oppressed by the Sith. And to stop that, they had rushed into battle themselves. They could have escaped but instead, they chose to face danger head on.




It was not long before the foe seemed to start breathing fire, spewing it out on the ground in front of her. In an instant, all focus had to be shifted back to the present - Joycelyn left them no choice. Mathieu didn't know what she intended for the fire but he did remember that she had used it before and that it was most likely a threat. With that in mind, he recalled the class in aerokinesis under Jedi Master Or'Fol Moric. It was no small breeze or puny gust that he summoned - it was a powerful gale to kill the fire before it had a chance to grow. If any flames did survive, they would most likely be blown back at the Sith as she spewed them out.

While Mathieu did want to exploit the kneeling position of his foe, he also didn't want to leave Inara to fend for herself against the Sithspawn. He had seen one of those bugs kill earlier and while he did trust her aim, he did not want to leave her wellbeing up to chance. With that, he directed a blast of force light at one bug and then another blast at a second one.

 

[Nica Dakkar]

Location: Ruins of Val Erides, Katarr
Objective: Plant flags and smile for the cameras.
Equipment: Heavy Blaster Pistol, Vibrocutlass, Service Dagger, Uniform
Writing With: Kaia Vullen

A forest, however full of life, was not normally a threat to an experienced hunter with a blaster in hand... but something felt off about this one not long after entering. Almost as if it had somehow been imbued with a new, singular purpose, a gut feeling that quickly proved apt.

Swearing loudly as her marines, trained for boarding actions and urban warfare over this, this, this frontier nonsense flailed literally and metaphorically alike when met with a veritable tide of angry critters, which was soon followed by nerf. Nerfs. What in the Nether was going on?

"They're just animals, you buffoons, mow them down. Mow down the entire karking forest if you have to, full-auto damn it."

Ducking to avoid a bird, she slipped inside their impromptu defensive position, fully aware that the forestry curtailed visibility and lines of fire alike to an uncomfortable extent. Those suits of armour were more or less fireproof, no? A damn shame she'd opted for a more tasteful uniform.

 

[Nan'eth'illa]

Caedyn Arenais
Hidden blade, flight suit, Thermal detonator, lightsaber, Shade's cloak, some crazy weird cybernetics.

This one clearly hadn't seen Coren Starchaser in action, that menace took more risks than most Sith Nethil knew. But she guessed that her attire was enough to give her away. She was, after all, wearing a Sith-Imperial starfighter flight suit and carried a lightsabre. Her position was a bit of a giveaway, but she didn't have much of a choice.

Also, they weren't shooting her to death, that much she appreciated.

Perhaps there was hope for negotiation after all.

"Do you know what a cataclysm means?" She slowly moved her hand to the visor of her pilot helmet and clicked open the reflective sun visor. "By the time you see what's going to happen, it will be too late." "And I would rather not be here to tell you I told you so when your flesh is melting off your bones like a vamci butat."

She made another movement with her right hand, but this time her left made a small twitch too.

"Don't get me wrong: I hate you." Her head cocked to the side "I would like nothing better than to watch you burn, but my ship is shot, so I am ready to barter."

She didn't touch anything, not physically at least. There was a small tug in the Force as one of the two lights on the grenade on her belt lit up: Armed, but not counting down. It was standing by.

"I am sure you would die a hero, but you can save more lives and fight us more if you don't go down there and die."

A smile crept over her lips as her eyes focused on Arenais entirely.

"If you won't name your price, let me name mine: Turn back, or I blow this ship to bits before it touches the ground."

 

[Mig Gred]

​

Dueling: Cara Dorniarn
Location: Outside the city, in the woods.
Units: 1st MIL Battalion "Netherhounds", 1st Armored Platoon "Wraith Division", Star Angles, Banshee Squadron (12 8-R Toscans), 2 Jai'galaar Bes'uliik
Gear: Lightsaber Trayc'kad, Echani Vibrosword given to him by Kat Decoria , Mandalorian amor, comms unit, Slick Anti-Acid Coat, Sith vibroknife, Nightbrother Fighting Knife, a pair of Taak'tabi, a pair of Hissing Ghosts

R10 howled out a bit as the ship slide past something. Transmissions were coming in for all over the lines.

"This is Signet 6, landing in the city. We're going to over pack! Should be able to carry 60 standing."

"Signet Leader, Approaching the Netherhounds. Ollens adamant about us trying to pack them all on board."

"The Murk is moving in to pick up civilians and rangers." Many more transmissions would pour in from over the battlefield, but Mig's ears would soon pick up on hearing Mando'a coming from the last person he expected. So the Sith knew Mando'a, surprisingly well. She almost spoke like it was her own language. Ok. He was sure there more to this Sith now. But at the moment, he had to consider her request. Co-pilot the ship. Mig looked down at the droid that was currently flying, then back at Cara, who he decided to test by speaking Concordian, a Mando'a dialect that he usually spoke anyway. Common back on Concord Dawn and the moon Concordia.

<"R10's ok with it, so you can. Just don't be surprised at any transmissions you may hear."> He looked around. They didn't have time to pick up anyone else. Not now. Plus... it wasn't like the Echo's Light had the same lifting weight to spare like the Pike's the Signet's flew. Mig was slowly wrapping fabric around the wrist Cara had gripped, making a rough brace. He looked at Cara, waiting for a response before realizing something.

<"R10, what's our altitude?"> The droid whistled, which got Mig a bit worried. <"10.... We should above any of those lizards by now.... No, worry about keeping everyone coordinated first. Tell the Signets to get as many people on board as possible and to scatter jump.">

 

[Leddie Gred]

Tags: WelshGuy K Kaine Australis Coren Starchaser Beltran Rarr Darth Carnifex Aristeia Zambrano Kytana
Location: Outside the city, in the woods.
Units: 1st MIL Battalion "Netherhounds", 1st Armored Platoon "Wraith Division", Star Angles, Banshee Squadron (12 8-R Toscans), 2 Jai'galaar Bes'uliik
Gear: Rancor leather boots, gloves, and arm, chest, and stomach armor; Nightsister energy bow; 2x Knives

Fora looked to the skies as she heard the ion-jets of the HA-2 Pikes fly overhead. She heard Mig send out the evac order, but she didn't want to believe it. They had to run because of some insane natural danger again! This was Wayland all over again. She looked at her mate, then over to Yuroic. "Signets. You need to pack as many people on ships as possible! All of us can fit on.... seven I think. Just get as many people out as you can."

"You want us to...."

"Just do it! Erie, on your...." She was soon tackled by someone, being sent to the ground with a pained yell. Not her's. It was.... It was Balo, her mate. The Commander looked, seeing he had been hit between his armor. The Zabrak-like Dathomerian looked at her, smiling a little.

"I... was at least able to save you...."

"You're not dead yet" She shot up, firing another arrow into the fray, but heard Balo again.

"I'm... not so sure.... Not many... are as lucky...." Fora looked back down starting to realize something.

"Lucky? You were just hit in the head. You'll survive." Why was she so worried? That didn't....

"I saved one I... I lo...." Fora looked, shocked before she looked back up. She didn't even understand it. W-why would he...? How...? She had no idea.She couldn't understand it as a couple of troop carrier Pike's landed nearby.

"Netherhounds! Starts to load up. I'll be the last out. Le.... Leave the dead...."

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim-Ragal
Empress Regent of the Eternal Empire, Overlord of the Eternal Empire, the Emperor's hand
The Red Witch; Director of Blackwatch; Baroness of Vengard, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium​

Location: Vegemite Temple, Myrkr
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | 2x red blade lightsaber shoto | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | Shield talisman | G1 OmniLink | Empyrean gland | Taozin amulet
Space forces: 4/4 Adjudicator II-class Star Destroyer (under Thaelius 's command)
Ground forces: 2.000/2.000 Ultranauts | 2.000/2.000 Infinites (under Telis Taharin-Zambrano 's command)
Enemies: -

Background music:
Sabaton – Rise of Evil​

The moment Ingrid tried to strike her opponent, she stopped her attack and froze completely. Her blade was a few inches from the armoured man, but the woman was completely motionless. The commander of her own fleet sent a message to leave the planet immediately because he had now been informed from the rest of the Fleet. The Sith flagship(?) was planned to collide an asteroid with the planet. That is why they asked the Overlord to leave the planet completely.

”This is your lucky day, you can live!”

She pulled the blade back from her opponent and quickly stepped back. She could still sense the other in the air as well, so now was the time to use the Force to disappear from everything and everyone. So she reached out to the Force and was shrouded in invisibility. Ingrid then turned and began to run silently toward the units of the Sith Empire. As she progressed, she also sent coordinates and asked where she was or where she needed to go to leave the planet.

Luckily, this point wasn’t too far away, she had to get through the trees, where there was a bigger meadow that just had a level of war, it was the place where there were dropships right now that could take her off the planet. Two to three minutes of sprinting followed to arrive at the coordinates obtained. She didn't particularly like to have to run for her life, and that was exactly the situation. An asteroid, seriously?!

Although it was not so important just now, and the Overlord arrived invisibly at the edge of the meadow…

​

 

[Gir Quee]

Ship: Gregale-class Heavy Fighter Drake Ten loaded with Starbolt Missiles, R8-series Astromech Droid, MAST sensor jammer turrets, and Dryas-class Artificial Intelligence
Onboard Equipment: Adar-class Combat Flight Suit; Dartfire Variable Charge Blaster Pistol;
Allies: SJO, Mandalorians, and friends
Enemies: Okkeus Dainlei (engaging) and TSE

R8 let out a loud whistle and his HUD briefly flashed with yellow outlines, obnoxiously announcing the solid contact of a pair of the ion tags with the Thunderstruck. They'll burn out of power quickly. Better take the shot, even if it isn't a good one...He hurriedly tapped the trigger three times. A trio of starbolt missiles jetted out from the right side of his fuselage before abruptly peeling away towards the X-wing. The missiles weren't very powerful on their own, and their high straightline speed would probably mean that they wouldn't be able to hit a rapidly maneuvering target - though accelerating directly at him and the incoming missiles would likely be dangerous. But the blonde man guessed that they'd at least keep the opposing pilot briefly occupied - hopefully long enough for him to piece together some sort of strategy.

"R8, keep the shields shifted to whatever arc that X-wing is approaching us from."

The droid let out a tootling noise of acknowledgement.

"You defend us...I try and take this guy down..."

He switched back to the starfighter's guns and rapidly hit a button to fire-link all of the starfighter's unusual menagerie of weapons. His weak and rapid-fire laser cannons were fixed in place, which were largely limited by the Gregale's maneuverability. But the ion encumbrance systems and slugthrower autocannons were only flexible mounts, allowing them to swivel and track targets independently of the Gregale's movements - a ship could approach the Drake Ten from the side and still be shot at by those weapons.

Yet there was something of the opposing pilot that seemed reckless to the blonde man - the sort of type who might ram his fighter and sacrifice it to ensure a kill. And that unsettled the blonde man. He had fought against Sith and sith led forces dozens of times over the years - enough to develop a healthy respect for unusual variances in their pilot's behaviors. I need to figure this guy out somehow...He squeezed the triggers again, unleashing a hextet of weapon's fire at the X-wing as it neared him. But as it did, the man punched the vessel's SLAM button. Drake Ten surged forward at almost breakneck speeds in a straight line towards Admiral Reshmar's flagship.

Would the Sith pilot pursue him to face the awesome point defense firepower of the massive warship? Or would he find a different way to hunt down his prey?

 

[Lirka Ka]

Location: Thustra

It had seemed that the bloodshed in the Palace had stalled for a time, the garden remained a serene reminder of the past life Lirka had lived: so distant now, like wisps that she desperately clung to as a reminder of what she fought for. Upon her first death, the Kaminoians had tried to strip her down to little more than a rampaging biological weapon, and they had nearly succeeded.

But times had changed now.

Remaining the storm of calm, Lirka stalked through the garden. Taking in it’s dazzling colors, the Sephi made art of all things: in truth, the entire planet was effectively filled with the strangest and most exotic artists one could find throughout the Galaxy. Flowers made of dazzling yellows, reds, and oranges clashed against the darkest of purples and blues, like the blazing sun of the System placed against the backdrop of the eternal void. With an uncharacteristic gentleness Lirka ran a clawed gauntlet along the flowers, to think, she had no time to appreciate the beauty of this planet before the scars of rebirth would be lashed around it.

But, such sacrifices were necessary in the pursuit of a new future. And solidifying her resolve, the Sephi and her cadre of warriors pushed onward: the distant thunder of battle rattling the whole palace it felt like. It seemed her Flagship had deemed a bombardment necessary, it’s Orbital Autocannons ready and willing to to cast away all it touched with their mighty blasts. It was unfortunate that Thustra had been deemed worthy of it’s wrath. But the carnage fueled her, it always did. And as the doors to the hall hissed open once more, Lirka knew carnage would be aplenty.

In truth, the scene to the Throne Room had been one of savage repetition: her Guardians were well beyond the skills of all but the elite Palace Guard, those whom guarded the throne itself, these? These were but soldiers, men and women so willing to give away their lives for this misconstrued notion of loyalty and nationalism for this warped, perverted, thing-that-called-itself-Thustra. Even in their weapons and armor could Lirka see the vague influence of outer-cultures that had dubbed Thustra just one of many worlds under their domain. Disgusting vermin. It was the greatest mercy she could give to her would-be-subjects, a swift and brutal death to spare them from the fire to come. But soon, these devotees of the false ways began to thin; they were nearing the goal, the traitor on their false throne, leading Thustra into oblivion.

None stopped their path now, those that had tried now laid as the dozen of scarred and broken corpses in their path. Such was the price of rebellion.

Soon, a set of great towering doors stood before them lined with gold and precious gems, the entrance to the throne room that Lirka had killed so many to reach. Allowing herself a smile, the Sephi raised a mighty metal boot and with a single kick the doors burst open. The gaggle of murderous idealists stepping inside to gaze at the gathered assembly of some two dozen warriors, and the grandiose Throne of Thustra: a man, ancient in his years, sat within it, his beard long and white and what little remained of his hair hidden away by his crown.

“Father!?”

Lirka broke to a kidish surprise, the image that she had built up for decades since leaving her home: her parents executed and disposed of as the Mandalorians creeped down to the Sumitra Sector, instating a loyal dog as monarch. But surprise soon turned to wrath, this was the final test of the New Queen, the True Monarch

“My father! Betrayer of our ways, pawn of conquerors, he who has led our people into stagnation and oblivion!”

The Elder Ka slightly raised a near skeletal finger, the smallest of grins across his face.

“And to think, last time we spoke you had thrown aside this notion of nobility for your bloodsports.”

The cold wit seemed to be genetic. Lirka, to no surprise, was little more than frothing rage. She took a step forward, a creature of jagged, baroque plate of the darkest metals among squalls of red and warm tapestries. He may have been right. But her eyes had been opened since those days, over a century ago.

“While you have sat, letting my planet rot, I have learned. I have seen. I understand this Galaxy better than you ever will, old man! And I shall share my teachings with our people, a new dawn is upon us! And you? There shall be no place for you.”

The King’s wit was quickly replaced with the cold demeanor of crushing disappointment, he did not respond as Lirka let out her fiery challenge, finally her blade unsheathing and igniting with it’s burning emerald energies.

“I challenge you, False King! No longer shall you herald our people into the oblivion of irrelevancy!”

The king waved a skeletal hand at his Guardians, skirting the challenge to the more able-bodied among them. A grin piercing beneath the True Queen’s blank helm, 1 vs 20? She liked these odds. The King’s Guardians ignited their plasma-lined Halberds, some eschewing the ceremonial weapon for long and thin swords with the same lining. They moved with the speed that only a Sephi of their ancient age could muster. But they were guardians, relics of a soon-to-be-dead monarchy.

And Lirka? Lirka was a paragon of war, the destroyer of all who dared to stand in her way. A monster.

As the first warrior moved in, his blade raised to strike at the Queen’s shoulder, she moved her blade with a nimble slash: his armor offering nothing against the weapons pulsing energies, and his bisected corpse fell to the ground.

“Come on then, bastards! Who wishes to see what awaits in the Beyond?”

Then chaos erupted, Lirka’s own guardians merely standing to the side and preventing any from leaving who’d dared to miss this near-holy spectacle. It was a lightshow as blades slashed through the air, clashing with the thundering of plasma-against-plasma and the clink of blades slashing against the hardiness of Lirka’s plate. Many were quick to learn just how much of a Jedi Hunter the girl had become, and how futile their archaic weapons truly were: a halberd came down, only to be caught in the Sephi’s clawed gauntlet and with a single push the man was tossed to his back.

They were considerable warriors, this was to be known, and Lirka respected their craft: they fought with an artistry that she had rarely ever seen outside of Thustra. But she was not one of them, Lirka was perfected a cocktail of a dozen different species blended into one monster of metal and flesh. They wouldn’t stand a chance.

They couldn’t stand a chance.

She hadn’t come this far to be stopped by faceless mooks. She twirled, taking off the head of another guardian. Burning rents had already begun to be slashed into the weaker portions of the Queen’s armor. She let the pain fuel her, another reminder that she still lived: and with a click, her blade suddenly broke into two smaller weapons.

Then the slaughter truly began.

Lirka worked as a blur, with quick and precise strikes to take down her foes: limbs hit the floor, weapons were slashed in two. But it mattered not, they had lost before this battle even began: swinging one of the metal legs Lirka kicked another guardian across the head, it’s helmet shattering into plastoid chunks. Another fell, and another, and another: and soon, with a twirl and flourish as Lirka reconnected her blade again, the final of the king’s guard was impaled upon the weapon, and with the hiss of evaporating blood Lirka yanked the weapon out. Stepping over the legion of corpses that surrounded the False King, her father. Her rage bubbling over like foam, raising her blade high.

“Your time has come, traitor.”

And with those words of cold determination, the blade came down. And silence fell upon the room. Around the planet, battle still raged, but heavy metal footfalls now walked to the balcony that surveyed the courtyard where hundreds of warriors now fought Lirka now stepped up, raising her hand high: and within it, held by long and white strands of hair was the severed head of the king. Lirka’s voice thundered, a storm without compare, in all attempts to force her words across all comms in the system.

“The deed is done! The Traitor lays dead at my hand! Sworn Defenders of Thustra, lay down your arms! For this battle is over, hail to the New Dawn, or suffer oblivion!”

And with her first decree, Lirka returned to her throne: next to it, a decapitated corpse tossed aside. And finally, after nearly 130 years. Lirka sat in her throne, the Queen taking her place...no. Not the Queen. What took the seat that day was Thustra’s first Empress

 

[Beltran Rarr]

Beltran Rarr

Location: Jungles around Hyllyard City
Objective: Pushing forward against the advancing Sith, trying to force a confrontation with Kytana's (If you want, no pressure)
Allies: SJC and allied personnel, directly supporting Torrack Australis, Forjund Australis and associated Clan Australis forces, responding to K Kaine Australis
Enemies: Sith marching on Hyllyard City, firing in the general vicinity of Kytana
Loadout:

• Armor: Katarn Mk. II Combat Armor
• Clothing: Katarn Undersuit, Bantha Load-bearing system
• Primary Weapons: 10mm Pulse Rifle
• Secondary Weapons: Death-Dealer Handcannon (drop holster, right hip - loaded with Sith-Killer Ammunition), Pulse Pistol (chest holster) Lightsaber (clipped to waist), Lightsaber Pike (strapped to back), Wrist Mounted Blaster (right wrist), Tactical Vibroblade (right boot)

Commanding: Paladin Company (150 Rangers)

Theme - In The Air Tonight​

"Eat up."

K Kaine Australis ' words rung in Beltran's mind the battle devolved into a bloody-free for all. Overhead, crimson blasts of some kind of lightening flashed, hitting the ground, causing explosions and killing men. With his blade, Beltran swung wide-decapitating a Sith soldier and then moving to sever the arm of the comrade that stood at his side.

Through all of it, Beltran's Rangers fought along side him. Each man lost in his own trance of bloodlust and war. The battle lines in this part of the jungle had devolved to the point that they were barely even identifiable. An ancient treatise on war that Beltran had once read described this kind of battle as Death Ground.

And in Death Ground, one was meant to fight.

So fight they did. With first and knife, with saber and pulse rifle. Paladin Company fell upon all those who opposed them with a ferocity built up of each man's triumphs and defeats. Of loss and gain. Of hope and rage. There only a few moment's in a man's life that truly mattered, and Beltran recognized this as one of them. The Rangers could not fall back, they would not retreat.

Nor would they be slaughtered like they had been on Yurb. No, Beltran would not allow that. Never that. Never again.

No, they would do Kaine's bidding and they would eat. They would rip, tear and consume their enemy until there was nothing left but bones and blood.

And at the end of it all, regardless of whether the battle was won or lost the Sith would know a shudder of fear from this moment on when the words Paladin Company were uttered.

(OOC: This will be Beltran's last post for this Campaign Invasion)

 

[Palm-Imer]

Location: Den Velmor.
Objective: Evacuate civilians, keep friends alive.
Allies: Mathieu Brion ~ Inara Basai ~ SJC
Enemies: Joycelyn Zambrano ~ TSE
Loadout:

Spoiler

Weapons: The Wraith Blades, 2x TDW L-7 Heavy Pistol, 3x Proton Grenades, 3x Bacta Grenades, Crushgaunts.
Armor: Hexarium Bodyglove Mark II.

​

Dark whispers filled her mind, words in a language she did not understand but that seemed to speak to something within her. This was war and this was death, and the bloodied soil upon which she stood felt like a throne. Except she could not claim it yet, for her enemy still breathed and the fight was not finished. It would not be until one of them was dead on the dirt. There was a slow boiling but powerful rage within her, and as she focused on the Sith Lady it transformed itself into ice-cold and ruthless focus.

Don't give in, majhen.

Her eyes suddenly widened mid step as a random memory pushed through in her mind, the voice of her own Master ringing clear over the whispers. A moment of clarity in the throes of ire. But then the crazed voice of the Sith reached her, in the present, not as an echo of her past but as a tangible thing in her present. The woman spewed threats and fire, and as the flaming wall was lifted between herself and Mathieu, the sudden clarity disappeared as swiftly as it had come. It had lost the battle against the whispers.

The frown and the grimace in her features became accentuated once again and the air seemed to tremble around her, the golden of her eyes shining brightly as she charged. Right on time with Mathieu's gale of wind that made the flames sway towards the one that had conjured them, Palm leaped towards Joycelyn, aiming a powerful kick at her chest to hopefully destabilize her before landing next to her. Not a second was wasted before she pressed on her attack, faster and stronger than before for the hatred coursing in her veins fueled her movement.

First a slash of the saber held by her attacking hand was aimed at Joycelyn's injured shoulder, followed by a sudden change in her usual preference and allowing her defending hand to surge forward, reverse grip meaning it was not the blade of the guard-shoto but the pommel that was being aimed at the Sith's jaw in a bone-crushing punch. Grunts and growls followed her every move, breathing heavy not out of exhaustion but out of anger. Palm's gaze remained attentive of Zaudraka, for even though her attacks aimed to cause as much damage and pain as possible they had not been aimed at the mark that Palm wanted to hit.

The woman's charred hand would be her prize if the chance appeared to take it.

Not unlike the Zambrano, her attacks were bolder and more ruthless. No longer was there a wish to contain a threat and keep others safe, but to eradicate. Her focus was too consumed by the fight to notice the first tremble in the ground, and when a second one occurred after the fallen freighter crashed on the city, beginning to open cracks in the concrete, she ignored it too. There was no backing down, not until the head of the snake was cut off.

This was how darkness felt, even when not fully embraced.

This was power.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He crushed a Mandalorian's neck with his clenched fist, the wretch's protestations subsided as his arms fell limply to his sides. Tossing the body away, the Dark Lord of the Sith continued to advance through the forest. Some of his Blackblade Guard had broken off from the main force to join him, moving together in tight squadrons to cover their flanks in the crowded bush. Plenty died, but they took many more Mandalorians with them before drawing their final breath. The Mandalorians had thought of themselves as the grandest warriors in the galaxy, but their legacy was nothing more than blood and ash.​

​

Receiving a message on his comlink, the Emperor paused in the woods for a moment to answer. A small holographic image appeared as the device powered on, Grand Admiral Omarest Croscal, captain of the Behemoth II. ​

​

"Supreme Excellency, I advise you vacate Myrkr within the hour. Yo'gand's Core has been activated."​

​

"Yes, I know. I can feel it approaching." He glanced up towards the sky for a moment, "I will call a general withdrawal of Imperial forces around Myrkr, divert several squadrons to escort them out. Fire on what remains of the shield with the superlaser, we will leave nothing to chance."​

​

"Your will is my command, Supreme Excellency."​

​

The image of Croscal disappeared, and the Emperor adjusted his comlink to patch into the encrypted channel which could be heard by the Sith-Imperial forces attacking the city. It broadcasted a signal which was recognizable by all Sith forces in the field as a call to withdraw back into orbit, with the Emperor's own clearance code validating its authenticity. Immediately, the forces assailing the city began an ordered withdraw back to their landing zones, to return to their cruisers in orbit above. Above the planet, the Behemoth II and its escort fleet shifted their attention away from the enemy ships and began to fire solely on what remained of Myrkr's planetary shield.​

​

Carnifex advanced on where Shara had burst up from the ground to swallow the Old Boar whole, his lightsaber extended and crackling with energy.​

​

Taeli Raaf | Fiolette Raaf | K Kaine Australis

 

[Kyra Perl]

Anakin's Dark Deeds​

Drawing Lines in the Sand
Allies: Kyra Perl
Enemies: Nida Perl | Lark

For that fraction of a moment, he thought they'd gotten through to her. The real Nida. The one he fell in love with. Thirdas learned that day the truth about why the dark side of the Force was so greatly feared; it takes away all that is good and pure, and turns them into ashes before your eyes. And you are powerless to stop it.

As Nida declared herself a child of Zambrano and her eyes turned from violet into a burning gold, he knew she was truly lost. Anger took hold where until now there had been sorrow, and he let out a tortured roar as he pounded his fist against the shield as if trying to punch his way through to the other side.

His anger subsided when her next words focused on her younger sister, and he slowly turned to Kyra with a horrified stare, then back to Nida. Then back to Kyra.

"Don't-- Don't listen to them, Kyra! They're trying to seduce you!"

Again he faced his estranged lover and the Sith she was with, this time with a grim scowl as he placed himself between them and Kyra.

"I will not let you take her, as you were once taken! You will have to kill me first!"

While they were facing off against each other, the Sith artillery had continuously pounded the shield from afar. By the time Thirdas took his stand against the person he loved the most, one last volley of shells struck the top of the shield, causing it to finally relent and flicker.

"Kyra, stay behind me! BEHIND ME--"

The shield took its last breath and faded away, prompting the Sith troopers on the other side to all open fire on the pair. Thirdas acted first, throwing down a deployable shield at his feet that went up in an instant, protecting them against the barrage of blasterfire. It would only last for so long however, as each shot blocked damaged its integrity.

Crouching down behind the man-sized shield, Thirdas put his arms around the smaller Zeltron and held her close. Like a parent shielding their child, or a brother protecting his baby sister.

The massive assault of blasters caused a haze of smoke and kicked up dust, until eventually there was just a cloud of smoke. Acting while the Sith line-of-sight was compromised, Thirdas started lobbing grenades. By the time they went off he'd already relocated himself and Kyra to behind more sustainable cover.

From there he took up his rifle and started firing into the enemy as they came into view through the cloud of dust. He handed Kyra his sidearm and told her to do the same. They would have to fight their way out against entire companies' worth of Imps.

ALLIES | Lark
ENEMIES | Kyra Perl | Thirdas Heavenshield

Lark’s shift came as a surprise. This is the monster? He’s…crying? She had expected a rampaging beast, not this sorrowful man. It hadn’t crossed her mind that two empaths in a highly emotional state could influence those around them-or perhaps this was the beast’s work.

“Listen to Lark, Kyra. Don’t walk away from this. We can be an honest family, this time.”

Kyra’s resistance was expected. She couldn’t imagine that her sister would understand right away—how could she, when it took Nida enough time to accept who and what she was? The younger Zeltron was stubborn and possessed an incredible willpower, which was why Nida felt the need to nudge her along subtly. Even if she failed here, if she could plant the seeds…her sister’s affection and attachment for her might germinate them into something incredible.

Because truly, deeply, she wanted her sister to join her. Even through her fall, she could forgive Kyra for being the spawn of the enemy. Her sister was ignorant and misguided, but she had done nothing wrong. Kyra had been an anchor for Nida since the day she was born. From the first time she’d crawled into Joza’s hospital bed to see the new baby, a bond had formed between the two.

And then, Kyra’s hand wrapped around her own and her heart sang for a moment. The touch of the light burned, but Nida preserved through it for her. It was the same energy she’d felt the moment an infant Kyra had wrapped the whole of her tiny hand around Nida’s index finger.

Suddenly, she was faced with Thirdas, his anger and heartbreak was palpable. It wasn’t so much the words he’d spoken as it was the look on his face. The scowl, directed to her. Never in all their time together had Thirdas looked at her like that—with rage, disappointment, and betrayal. He was a tender man, kindly and gentle, and Nida couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride as he fought to protect Kyra.

But, the look he’d given her had shattered her heart. Tears slipped from the inner corners of her eyes as if they’d been frozen there for this exact moment, and Nida didn’t even know that they were there until one dripped from her chin to her hand.

He’d pulled her away as the city’s shielding shattered, deploying a shield big enough for the pair of them to huddle behind while being barraged by enemy fire. The retreat irritated Nida as much as the broken shielding, for she did not wish to be interrupted.

A grenade sailed through the air and she extended one hand, arching up on her tiptoes to form a bubble around the live device. It detonated, shattering the protective layer of the force in one go, but containing the explosion well enough. Nida’s arm dropped to the side and she covered her mouth with the sleeve of her robe, squinting through the smoke, trying to locate Kyra and Thirdas. She could feel them, but they’d moved.

“Do not make this more difficult than it needs to be.”

The comm chatter in her ear pulled her back to the battlefield, and suddenly the blaster fire all around them became much more apparent. Her eyes narrowed, then went wide, head jerking upwards in time to see the ominous omen of an asteroid looming above the Myrkr skies.

"We need to evacuate!" She grabbed Lark's wrist, sure that he'd received the same message.

She gave a tentative, desperate glance back to where she'd seen Kyra and Thirdas run off. They were still here, and she traced along the invisible extension still running between her and Kyra to send out a warning.

Leave NOW!

"No!" The scream tore through the air, muffled by gunfire and the sudden chaos that tore her from her sister's hand. Kyra turned wildly, trying to find Nida's eyes among the smoke and the turmoil. Metal arms lifted he up, moving her away-- pulling the invisible string between sisters taunt as contact was shattered.

Kyra's heart was breaking, the pain crept up through her chest... tight and pure. A choice. It had been a choice. Nida's fall was a-- unfathomable choice. Shock took over her, its grip numb and protective as Thirdas covered their back with rapid fire. Collected, even in battle. How did he do it? She looked up at him, expression blank and questioning. Every part of her identity felt at conflict to each other, from sister to jedi...

--Her head snapped up, the sunlight leaving the streets as the asteroid entered view. Kyra dropped the gun, cold shock echoing through her.

"We need to go." She croaked. Her metal hand fell on his arm, clutching tight. "We need to leave now!" She demanded, steel entering her town.

Nida's order rang through her head, disguised as her voice. She stood up, limbs moving on their own as they obeyed. In the haze of it all, she did not think about the origin, the mental twist from her sister doing more than Nida could know.

As Thirdas fired beyond them, Kyra tugged him away, an orb of light surrounding them... the family taught shield protecting sibling and boyfriend in their retreat away.

 

[Cara Dorniarn]

Dueling: Mig Gred
Location: Soon to be Not-Hyllyard
Gear: Personal armor, Judicator, KS-9 'Firestorm' Grenade x2, Sonic Imploder x2, Vibroknife x2

_________________________________________________________________________________________________
​

She tilt her head, cocking an eyebrow as he actually agreed to the idea. Was it possible he was naive? Could all the scars he bore have been acquired by trusting the wrong people? But it wasn't the time for questions. The one thing which mattered in that moment was that she wasn't the wrong person and that he was either confident or foolish enough to take the gamble.

As she took a step toward a control panel she glanced back, a faint ghost of a smirk on her lips as she replied in Concordian, <"As per our agreement I don't hear a word. I want off this rock, and Mando banter won't distract me."> It wasn't as fluent as the previous Mando'a as inflections of her former accent slipped into the words.

She took command over her assigned controls, already charting a course for lightspeed just outside blast range of the asteroid. As the Echo's Light ascended she glanced to the altimeter as Mig asked the R-10 unit for their altitude. She let out a disgusted groan as he spoke a word that rivaled a curse on Myrkr: Lizards.

As if hitching a ride with a Mandalorian wasn't bad enough.

A curious and unseen ysalamiri, or perhaps more, had found their way aboard. Cara flipped some switches and focused on navigation, already choosing from the many ways to skin a reptile.

 

[Thirdas Heavenshield]

Pancake Avoidance
Tags: Kyra Perl | Nida Perl | Lark

They were getting surrounded as several squads were attempting to flank on both sides, forcing Thirdas to divide his focus on right, left, center all at once. His rifle fired as relentlessly as the man wielding it spat Valkyri curses at his enemies, and even when he took a shot to the shoulder he barely let the enemy know they'd hit him. When one particularly daring Sith trooper thought to run straight up to him Thirdas responded by crushing the man's throat with his cybernetic hand, squeezing until his head popped clean off.

He was fully prepared to die here this day.

Kyra meanwhile seemed to be faring far worse, barely able to put up a fight with the blaster she'd been handed. He wasn't about to reprimand her; were it not for his training coupled with the sheer anger he felt he too would have crumbled. Instead, he'd gone berserk.

It wasn't until he felt her hand on his arm that he paused and met her gaze, and as much as he wanted to stay and fight, his greatest concern right now was no longer Nida. It was her baby sister.

His temper cooled and he offered an affirmative nod, firing off some more rounds until he was out of ammo before Kyra could activate her Force shield. Together they fled the scene while under fire, with Thirdas putting his arm around her waist and firing off his grapple gun to one of the nearby rooftops. Zipping through the air, more blaster rounds were fired but got soaked up by the shield as it emcompassed the pair.

Once having reached the rooftop and were able to briefly catch their breath, he made sure to halt Kyra and look her in the eye.

"You alright," he asked while clutching his own shoulder, only now recognising the burning pain. "Kyra. We couldn't save her this time. Next time, we'll be ready." He waited for her to respond before they resumed their hasty escape. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a communicator.

"Mr-- sigh Mr. Bumkins, take off and meet us to the west! We'll be on one of the rooftops."

They were not out of harm's way just yet, as another volley of Sith blasters were so kind to let them know.

"Climb on my back," he kneeled down facing away from Kyra, allowing her to jump on.

Leaping off the rooftop, another well-aimed shot from his grapple gun allowed them to swing high above the Hyllyard streets onto another rooftop, further away from their pursuers. He doubted they would continue the pursuit for long however, as they too would need to retreat off the planet before the whole place went up in flames.

Their landing on the second rooftop was far less graceful, with Thirdas struggling to pull himself and Kyra over the parapet with an injured shoulder. Fortunately their ticket off this world had arrived as Kyra's ship appeared beside them, ramp lowered.

"Ladies first," he literally picked up and tossed her onboard before attempting to leap across the space between rooftop and ramp. It proved a stretch, even for him, and only managed to hold on using his metal arm as his other had become too weak for another feat of strength.

 

[Mazrim Caide/Taim]

So they hadn't told her. Interesting.

"Yo'gand's core has been ordered. we have about an hour."

He takes a bite of his ration.

"but, I'm in no rush if you aren't, we have a little time."

His nonchalant tone and the relaxed posture he sits with back up his apparent lack of fear of oblivion.

"after all, we kill for a living, why fear what we sell?"

Tags: Ruek Tast