M E A T B A G
Location: Expansion Region; Ehosiq Sector; Kiros System; Kiros - Artisan Colony.
Objective: Draw out the Mandalorian Garrison; Slaughter them all.
Allies: The Golden Company, The Core Imperial Federation.
Enemies: The United Clans of Mandalore.
Equipment: See Signature.
Ground Force Complement: 43rd Legion "The Argonauts" with Dedicated, Mechanized Support.
What began in supposed silence, soon erupted into cacophonous violence. It seemed that the Artisan Colony wasn’t as empty as the Thyrsians believed. Civilian Enforcers remained behind as their non-combatant kin fled towards shelter and suddenly engaged the newfound invaders; seeking to drive them off with whatever weapons they had on hand. However, that wouldn’t be an easy feat, as the Sun Guard were cloaked in some of the most advanced technologies ever to grace the skein of reality. Blasters were rendered ineffective against their flaring plasmatic shields and eventually proved to be more dangerous to the myriad members of the planetary militia - as their bolts were sent hurtling back towards them. Some would doubtlessly fall prey to their own weapons, whilst others would be carved apart by the sheer technological supremacy of the Thyrsian Arsenal. They were arrayed against the foe who outmatched them at every turn, but Khonsu couldn’t help himself from admiring their tenacity.
It wouldn’t ultimately change their fate, but it would be enough for the man to see the worth in these Togrutan warriors as battle slaves, or - perhaps - even as brothers on the battlefield. If and when they secured Victory upon the surface of Kiros, the Supreme Sun Guardian would pose the same offer that was given to all of his vanquished, and would-be foes. The Mercenary Warlord would ask them to join his swelling numbers - to shed their old allegiances and find new purpose amongst the ranks of his Gilded Host. Or, should they refuse that honour, and adoption into a new confraternity, they - alongside everything they cherished - would be put to the uncaring justice of the sword. It was the way of the Desertborn, and in many ways, it was the way of the Warrior as well.
He blinked then, as the Battle for the Artisan Colony unfolded around him. His soldiers fought against the ad-hoc militia, whilst his mechanized detachments began laying siege to the city around them. Lava cannons from the towering robotic dreadnoughts despoiled the Torgrutan architecture; melting ferrocrete walls and duracrete sidings with every blast from their unorthodox weapons. The Thyrsian battle tanks, who blasted debris aside with their repulsorfield engines as they slid forth from their shuttles, took to the streets and began selecting their targets. While there weren’t military installations within the city - there were places that dealt in communication and enforcement. Severing, or capturing those locations would be vital to the nebulous outcome of the battle - as they could stem the tide of possible reinforcements, and sabotage the planetary comms network.
If there were Mandalorians hidden somewhere on the planet - they’d surely act when the central network went dark. If they didn’t? Well, it wouldn’t do their dwindling empire - nor reputation - any favours.
Khonsu’s attention tore away from the information scrolling across the false fire-light of his visor, before settling in on the horned figure at his side. He was surprised, to say the least. With her apparent hatred and vocalized distaste, the man imagined that she would do everything in her power to stay away. However, as another plasmatic bolt stuck his projected shield, the man’s mind pulsed clear. It didn’t matter now. He had the battle to win, and such an outcome wouldn’t come to pass if the man left himself shrouded by the shadows cast by the partially ruined ferrocrete wall. The Thyrsian ignored her sassy remarks, as he roused himself from the street’s embrace. His gauss weapon sighted a target down the rubble-strewn causeway and fired mere seconds later. The victim was torn from their feet in a splatter of cauterized gore, before collapsing to the ground. Others stood near to that now-fallen Togrutan enforcer, and just as soon as he was bringing them into his sights - they were slain by a barrage of solarized particle bolts.
His smile faded, as his darkened eyes darted towards Illyria. It was the subtle shake in her voice that gave away the struggle she faced that afflicted all who took their first life on the battlefield. “Yes,” Khonsu responded simply, knowing that the truth would send her ever closer towards the edge. It was better that she came to grips with her new reality sooner rather than later. “In combat, it’s either you or them that gets sent to the Netherworld. If you didn’t kill them now, they would’ve gotten you sooner or later.”
It was then that the Sun Guard’s armour picked up something moving nearby that didn’t bear a friendly identity tag. What made this figure interesting was that the sonar profile came back with the iconic movement and aesthetic that was often attributed to the armour worn by the Scions of Mandalore. Khonsu’s eyes widened with perverse delight. Finally - one of the Mandalorians had elected to pull themselves from the shadows! It had been far too long since he fought with one of his opposite number face-to-face. As more and more details about the figure - moving through cover poured in, alongside the transmissions regarding the 43rd Legion encountering similar figures amidst the dust - the more his desires came to the forefront of his thoughts. The man approached with a pair of swords drawn, spoiling for a fight. He couldn’t resist, and such violent thoughts threatened to consume him if he didn’t act.
“Link up with the Second Lance, Illyria,” Khonsu said on the verge of distraction. “The Mandalorians have finally played their hand.”
Magnetically adhering his rifle to one of his backplate’s hardpoints, the Supreme Sun Guardian roused himself from the detritus and cover it provided; before drawing his sweeping blade from its scabbard. The sword came free with little issue and was a welcome burden betwixt his taloned fingers. It hungered. Though forged of inert materials and given new form by Thyrsian smiths, the weapon was a personification of his people’s hatred given form. He would see that it feasted well this day and that the first to taste its plasmatic bite would be the Warrior hugging the ferrocrete wall as he circled their position.
:: Come forth, Scion of Mandalore,:: Khonsu boomed, as his gilded armour soon became bathed in the light of his sword’s sheath of plasmatic lightning. The physical shield that was housed within a module bound to his armoured gauntlet sprang to life. Snapping outwards - the circular barrier formed in an instant - which was subsequently followed by the edges igniting in magnetically contained plasma. His stance was casual as he advanced, slowly, towards his newfound opposition. Though his armour was a proverbial walking armoury, the Thyrsian Warlord would commit himself to battle his foe with the weapons at hand. It wouldn’t be any fun otherwise.
Objective: Draw out the Mandalorian Garrison; Slaughter them all.
Allies: The Golden Company, The Core Imperial Federation.
Enemies: The United Clans of Mandalore.
Equipment: See Signature.
Ground Force Complement: 43rd Legion "The Argonauts" with Dedicated, Mechanized Support.
What began in supposed silence, soon erupted into cacophonous violence. It seemed that the Artisan Colony wasn’t as empty as the Thyrsians believed. Civilian Enforcers remained behind as their non-combatant kin fled towards shelter and suddenly engaged the newfound invaders; seeking to drive them off with whatever weapons they had on hand. However, that wouldn’t be an easy feat, as the Sun Guard were cloaked in some of the most advanced technologies ever to grace the skein of reality. Blasters were rendered ineffective against their flaring plasmatic shields and eventually proved to be more dangerous to the myriad members of the planetary militia - as their bolts were sent hurtling back towards them. Some would doubtlessly fall prey to their own weapons, whilst others would be carved apart by the sheer technological supremacy of the Thyrsian Arsenal. They were arrayed against the foe who outmatched them at every turn, but Khonsu couldn’t help himself from admiring their tenacity.
It wouldn’t ultimately change their fate, but it would be enough for the man to see the worth in these Togrutan warriors as battle slaves, or - perhaps - even as brothers on the battlefield. If and when they secured Victory upon the surface of Kiros, the Supreme Sun Guardian would pose the same offer that was given to all of his vanquished, and would-be foes. The Mercenary Warlord would ask them to join his swelling numbers - to shed their old allegiances and find new purpose amongst the ranks of his Gilded Host. Or, should they refuse that honour, and adoption into a new confraternity, they - alongside everything they cherished - would be put to the uncaring justice of the sword. It was the way of the Desertborn, and in many ways, it was the way of the Warrior as well.
He blinked then, as the Battle for the Artisan Colony unfolded around him. His soldiers fought against the ad-hoc militia, whilst his mechanized detachments began laying siege to the city around them. Lava cannons from the towering robotic dreadnoughts despoiled the Torgrutan architecture; melting ferrocrete walls and duracrete sidings with every blast from their unorthodox weapons. The Thyrsian battle tanks, who blasted debris aside with their repulsorfield engines as they slid forth from their shuttles, took to the streets and began selecting their targets. While there weren’t military installations within the city - there were places that dealt in communication and enforcement. Severing, or capturing those locations would be vital to the nebulous outcome of the battle - as they could stem the tide of possible reinforcements, and sabotage the planetary comms network.
If there were Mandalorians hidden somewhere on the planet - they’d surely act when the central network went dark. If they didn’t? Well, it wouldn’t do their dwindling empire - nor reputation - any favours.
Khonsu’s attention tore away from the information scrolling across the false fire-light of his visor, before settling in on the horned figure at his side. He was surprised, to say the least. With her apparent hatred and vocalized distaste, the man imagined that she would do everything in her power to stay away. However, as another plasmatic bolt stuck his projected shield, the man’s mind pulsed clear. It didn’t matter now. He had the battle to win, and such an outcome wouldn’t come to pass if the man left himself shrouded by the shadows cast by the partially ruined ferrocrete wall. The Thyrsian ignored her sassy remarks, as he roused himself from the street’s embrace. His gauss weapon sighted a target down the rubble-strewn causeway and fired mere seconds later. The victim was torn from their feet in a splatter of cauterized gore, before collapsing to the ground. Others stood near to that now-fallen Togrutan enforcer, and just as soon as he was bringing them into his sights - they were slain by a barrage of solarized particle bolts.
His smile faded, as his darkened eyes darted towards Illyria. It was the subtle shake in her voice that gave away the struggle she faced that afflicted all who took their first life on the battlefield. “Yes,” Khonsu responded simply, knowing that the truth would send her ever closer towards the edge. It was better that she came to grips with her new reality sooner rather than later. “In combat, it’s either you or them that gets sent to the Netherworld. If you didn’t kill them now, they would’ve gotten you sooner or later.”
It was then that the Sun Guard’s armour picked up something moving nearby that didn’t bear a friendly identity tag. What made this figure interesting was that the sonar profile came back with the iconic movement and aesthetic that was often attributed to the armour worn by the Scions of Mandalore. Khonsu’s eyes widened with perverse delight. Finally - one of the Mandalorians had elected to pull themselves from the shadows! It had been far too long since he fought with one of his opposite number face-to-face. As more and more details about the figure - moving through cover poured in, alongside the transmissions regarding the 43rd Legion encountering similar figures amidst the dust - the more his desires came to the forefront of his thoughts. The man approached with a pair of swords drawn, spoiling for a fight. He couldn’t resist, and such violent thoughts threatened to consume him if he didn’t act.
“Link up with the Second Lance, Illyria,” Khonsu said on the verge of distraction. “The Mandalorians have finally played their hand.”
Magnetically adhering his rifle to one of his backplate’s hardpoints, the Supreme Sun Guardian roused himself from the detritus and cover it provided; before drawing his sweeping blade from its scabbard. The sword came free with little issue and was a welcome burden betwixt his taloned fingers. It hungered. Though forged of inert materials and given new form by Thyrsian smiths, the weapon was a personification of his people’s hatred given form. He would see that it feasted well this day and that the first to taste its plasmatic bite would be the Warrior hugging the ferrocrete wall as he circled their position.
:: Come forth, Scion of Mandalore,:: Khonsu boomed, as his gilded armour soon became bathed in the light of his sword’s sheath of plasmatic lightning. The physical shield that was housed within a module bound to his armoured gauntlet sprang to life. Snapping outwards - the circular barrier formed in an instant - which was subsequently followed by the edges igniting in magnetically contained plasma. His stance was casual as he advanced, slowly, towards his newfound opposition. Though his armour was a proverbial walking armoury, the Thyrsian Warlord would commit himself to battle his foe with the weapons at hand. It wouldn’t be any fun otherwise.
:: Come forth and face the Master of the Sun Guard.::
| [member="Cynthia Alucard"] | [member="Prime"] | [member="Adenn Kyramud"] | [member="Valdus Bral"] | [member="Lannik Hayes"] | [member="Azure Djitred"] | [member="Reyn Australis"] | [member="Nicair Claden"] | [member="Koda Fett"] | [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | [member="Mig Gred"] | [member="Isobel Mattis"] | [member="Grayson Mattis"] | [member="Careena Fett"] | [member="Vindicta"] | [member="Illyria Syresh"] | [member="Arash Garshasp"] | [member="Nero Sirax"] |
Action Summary:- Thyrsian Sun Guards, after making planetfall, engage with newly arrived Mandalorian and Togrutan Enforcers/ Ad-hoc Planetary Militia.
- Energy weapons prove ineffective against Xythan-shielded Sun Guards.
- Siege Dreadnoughts begin tearing down buildings with Lava cannons - turning select cause ways into treacherous terrain.
- Main battle tanks begin moving towards Comms towers and Enforcer Outposts, seeking to deprive the Planetary Militia of their communications and reinforcement / resupply.
- Khonsu moves to engage Reyn Australis with Sword and Shield in hand.
- Energy weapons prove ineffective against Xythan-shielded Sun Guards.
- Siege Dreadnoughts begin tearing down buildings with Lava cannons - turning select cause ways into treacherous terrain.
- Main battle tanks begin moving towards Comms towers and Enforcer Outposts, seeking to deprive the Planetary Militia of their communications and reinforcement / resupply.
- Khonsu moves to engage Reyn Australis with Sword and Shield in hand.
