Campaign It Will Burn | TB Campaign of SJC held Dandoran, Nar Chunna, Nar Kreeta, Kintan & Klantooine

[Starlin Rand]

Location: Being shot at in the Marketplace
Gear: Starlin Rand's lightsaber | Mt. Muspelheim Shoto | FENELAR ARMOR
Allies: Syd Celsius | SJC and allies
Enemies: Keldothera | Osam | The Bryn’adul and allies

There was an awful lot of noise coming from the street, but Starlin couldn’t move to see what was happening. Not long after it went quiet, a distinct female figure clad in a reflective catsuit appeared and knelt down beside him. His master’s expression was carefully composed, but he knew her well enough by now to guess what she was feeling.

“Sorry Syd,” Starlin apologized, his voice unsteady from the pain. “I guess I got a little carried away…”

Carried away was an understatement. He had been enjoying himself in the middle of a battlefield, frolicking like a fool through a warzone. And he had paid the price for it. Or at least, he was going to be paying for new and improved armor because of it.

He stifled himself as she worked on cleaning and healing his wounds. Part of him wanted to refuse this amount of help, knowing that it was taxing her strength, but he didn’t think she would listen to his protests.

Once it was done, Starlin clambered to his feet unsteadily. His legs still hurt, but the pain had been reduced from burning agony to a dull ache. Baby steps were all he could manage. The Fenelar Armor he had been so proud to wear bore two huge holes, the frayed edges slick with his blood.

One of the Bryn—he wasn’t sure what kind, only that the creature which appeared was crablike in appearance—was sniping from a nearby roof. Grumbling under his breath, Starlin reached out with the Force, seized the Bryn’s body, and proceeded to pummel it repeatedly against the wall of the building across from its crow’s nest until the alien stopped moving and fell limply to the ground.

"That's what you get for damaging my armor, schutta." And almost costing him his legs.

 

[Gordrak]

Location: Marketplace

Objective: B

Equipment: Verikast Armor / Assault Carbine / Glaive

Allies: Keldothera / Osam / Sethrak

Enemies: Beltran Rarr / Jyoti Nooran / Starlin Rand





The order had finally been given. Chaos erupted as pockets of Juggernauts obeyed the Generals orders and revealed themselves. Gordrak took this time to climb the pile of debris he had been using for cover and, upon reaching the top, turned toward his fellow Drael. As he looked down upon his fellow Juggernauts, an explosion occurred some distance behind him. An enemy unit had set off one of the speeders with incendiary rounds or something of that sort. Gordrak, unflinching despite the explosion, took a single backward glance at the enemy before returning his attention to his unit.




" Tear them apart. "




Upon saying that, the group that had been with him surged forward. They were going to lead the charge while the enemy was hopefully taken by surprise by the ambushing units. Gordrak followed the other Juggernauts and strode from his place atop the rubble, his weapon firing as he went. Now that the moment had arrived, Gordrak couldn't disappoint. He'd butcher every man, woman, and child in this place or die trying. Should he fall, Gordrak swore with every fiber of his being that whomever dealt the finishing blow would pay dearly for doing so.




Gordrak and his unit advanced at a steady pace toward the incoming enemy squad( Beltran Rarr ). In addition to keeping a steady forward pace, the Juggernauts kept a healthy spacing between one another in the event an explosive was used against them. Gordrak himself was situated in the rough center of the 'formation'. The enemy was more maneuverable than the others so Gordrak opted to fire when they were already trying to avoid shots from one of the other Juggernauts. He assumed that, if he couldn't hit his enemy when doing so, he could hopefully force them to continue evading or take cover. Cover or not however, Gordrak and the Juggernauts would continue until they or the enemy they fought were killed.




That or the fight itself devolved into one hell of a melee.

 

[Gianna Aegis]

Location: Outskirts [Bryn Crash Site]
Equipment: Astrea Robes | Heart of Aceso | Heaven's Wish | Heaven's Embrace | Sol & Astra
Allies: SJC
Enemy: Bryn
Tag: Tathra Khaeus
Objective: Adjust. Renew, and halt the return of Tathra Khaeus to the battlefield. No more.

_________________________________________________________________ ​

Silence should have been a welcome repose from the deafening, rage-filled, grief-stricken howl that filled the smoldering wreckage. Her heart thudded in her chest like distant thunder and her hands held tightly over her ears. Her eyes were open wide. Unblinking. Gianna stared at the cracked floor. Dirt had crept in and the scent of death wafted as if someone had used just a few drops of sickeningly sweet perfume to hide the stench of rotting meat. She couldn’t close her eyes. She couldn’t move.

Every time she tried—She saw a sudden spray of black and gray matter. Heard it. She felt her stomach lurch, her face felt hot, and silvery tears rolled down freckled cheeks. They were smudged with dust and dirt from the wastes of Nar Kreeta. Her robes, a soft tan, made of breathable muslin fabric with a pale green sash were far from pristine from wading through the crash site. She didn’t look like much of anything. Not prim, not perfect, like some envisioned the Jedi to be. Her expression, her reaction, was raw and real. As a being that respected and cared for all living things; It was beyond visceral.

The only thing that kept her whole, kept her from crumbling, while reality felt like it was cracking into the nether was a deep-seated belief. Faith. An unbreakable connection to something far larger than herself. She believed in the Force, so much so, that she’d walked into the den of a lion, a bear, a dragon, without any reinforcements. Without intent. What she had witnessed was horrifying.

Unspeakable.

Yet…It still wouldn’t corrupt her view. It still wouldn’t shake her faithfulness to the spirit of the living force. She breathed. She forced herself to breathe. To clear her heart of the darkness that crept at the edges. That was a path she dared not tread. No doubt. No fear. She could not afford to act recklessly and with heartrending emotion. That was not her purpose. She would breathe until she found peace. It was the only thing that would let her see with a clear focus. A pure lens. All things died. All things.

The Force lived on.

This…This travesty—This invasion of Nar Kreeta was an act that had been mirrored throughout the centuries. A story of those with perspectives that clashed so thunderously that it had become a tireless, bloody, unforgivable struggle between light and dark. Such atrocities in the service of hate left their mark. It was imprinting on this world. On the system, on the people, even on her.

Soft energy flowed through her. It dried her tears and softened the ache, the sadness, and made it bearable. Her hands slowly slid from her ears and Gianna was greeted by the sound of the Titan moving around his killing floor. She heard a squelch, the sound of steam rising, and strove not to over-analyze exactly what he was doing. The Knight held her breath as he passed. Heavy footsteps caused the pebbles to skitter across the metallic floor and she pressed ever closer to the broken wall.

Caution. Not fear.

When the behemoth cleared his way out of the wreckage she slowly slipped to her feet. The action felt slow. As if time had pulled itself into a pocket of stillness. As if she had barely moved at all. Regardless, she found herself standing all the same. Whisper quiet footsteps carried her toward the middle of the area where mighty monsters had been turned into little more than discarded scraps. Gianna didn’t have to check the bodies to know they were growing cold, but, she spared them a moment. The brave souls that had been lost in the defense tower. The Bryn’adûl that had died on impact.

Those that had been slaughtered.

The Jedi Knight knelt slowly and took a piece of cloth from her satchel. Gingerly, she used it to pick up the kukri that she had seen coming for her throat in her vision. The slightly curved blade glinted in the dim light, coated in dark, terrifying liquid. This was the price of victory. Slaughter.

She stood back up and turned her eyes to the exit, freehand raising, so she could scrub at her face with her sleeve. This was insanity. The sky was open above the crash and she could see ships flying overhead. The light changed, brightening, while they dropped their payload not far away. The flame-haired Jedi re-traced her footsteps and pulled herself back out of the crater. Out of a grave.

The back of the massive Bryn’adûl greeted her.

He seemed to be watching the battle from afar. From this far away he had the viewpoint of an eagle on high. It was distant, so much so, that they could barely hear the explosions. This was what the rest of the galaxy felt like when reading and watching the violence of the Draelvasier. Far away. Gianna had walked that space; She knew those people. It was anything but far away.

“Stop.”

The near hiss came from pale lips before she thought about it. It wasn’t basic. It was a language she had never spoken, one, that the red-skinned Drael would more than recognize. If he heard her over his own mind. Over the war, the invasion, that had begun. Would this creature think she was anything but a shadow, a crackle of noise among the wreckage, a whisper on the wind? Lavender lids fell over emerald orbs and her free hand rose slightly. She felt through the hillside and the ground beneath his feet and abruptly he would feel it begin to shake. As if a localized shatter-quake had begun.

The dirt shifted, the sand moved, and a low wall of earthen material and dry desert flora grew out of the wastes to block his path. It was solid, strong, and stopped just above his head. If he turned around, he would see her slender form standing at the lip of the crater. She was thin, delicate as if a strong breeze might sweep her away.

Between her hands, she held the kukri. Stained. Black, with the blood of his people.

“I said stop, Titan. I cannot allow you to continue.”

Spoiler: Summary

The death-crater still sucks. Girded loins, climbed from the wreckage with a Bryn kukri in hand, and is blocking Tathra's way.

 

[Adrian L'lerim-Vandiir]

Reidun Amersis
The Little Girl, Zealot minor​

Location: Nar Kreeta, Outside the City
Equipment: 2x Barad kukri | The Bryn’adûl Pulverizer | Barad Special Operations Armour
Tag(s): Amaru Vusa

Reidun continued to watch the Jedi, though he didn't understand what the man was saying, but her opponent wasn't really wrong. She studied him, really looking for weaknesses. Even if he had one, in addition to his bones breaking easily, he was physically weak and did not belong to the Drealvaiser. The walk turned into a run in the last few steps. She was already prepared to raise her swords to defend herself.

The Force blast hit her at this moment. For a moment she really tipped her off balance, though she was heavy enough, so he was not able to upset her with the attack. However, it was enough for her opponent to be almost able to cut her neck. Fortunately, Reidun was a trained warrior, like the rest of her race, so with an attack like this, she couldn’t be so surprised that she could died in it.

Before the lightsaber reached her neck, she could pull her own sword there at the last minute, so it didn’t reach her skin and the sword stopped the attack. She hoped she really was in physical superiority. Though she had already seen an enemy before whose armour gave him greater strength than he had originally possessed…

So she tried to harness her physical strength and move the lightsaber off her neck and at the same time she tried to kick the Jedi in full strength in the abdomen so that the man would then hit the wall directly so that the strength of the impact could do even more damage to him and his armour. She hoped she could do this.

​

 

[Syd Celsius]

The enemy was pouring into the area, Starlin Rand barely functional as she tried to make a sound counter attack strategy while those on her end were being crushed or slain. She watched passively as Starlin slammed the sniper to death. Ordinarily she would have frowned at him for doing it as such obvious payback as opposed to survival but maintaining perfect Jedi decorum and serenity simply wasn't a possibility in such a horrific, bloodthirsty environment. Besides, they had not only nearly murdered one of her only friends, but had generally been pissing everyone off with their seemingly nationally mandated Thulsa-Doom type political perogatives.

"This requires another approach..." she whispered, directing him to follow her up a building with Force Flight and land on the roof, which itself had a sniper nest of a friendly GA soldier, dead from a bullet in his heart.

Syd took his knife, cut her palm and immediately began drawing a pentagram with strange runes in her blood to focus her power, drawing on the relentless focus and aggressive nature of Laertia to help her in the attempt.

"The entire Marketplace needs reinforcements...all the reinforcements..." Syd stated grimly, directing Starlin to keep his head and body behind cover while she performed the ritual, kneeling in the center and chanting deeply arcane and unnatural Flame magics she had picked up over the centuries. After the Atrisian Fire God Kagutsuchi had empowered her during Mythos's invasion of his planet, the ease of performing rituals spiritually was far less taxing.

Particularly this one.

As the drones, brutes and other assorted nasties the Bryn'adul had inflicted passed over the dead in their fanatical march to trying to conquer the rest of the city, Syd's flesh shuddered as strange magics used her as a conduit to spread through out the immediate area, golden wisps of fire conjured into existence over a corpse, any corpse, and entering it. Syd continued her unnatural chanting, twisting their flesh temporarily to raise them as flaming revenants, as well as her own slain. The magical fires burning inside their body would eventually fade as opposed to Sith Undead, who could linger after being raised. Far less durable and quick too.

Ordinarily, breaking out magic so close in functionality to Sith Magics was a massive taboo for Syd. But the enemy was so ferocious it was clear something drastic was necessary to truly give them pause...

And what better pause than fighting off fiery undead remants of both their own and their victims.

Had it been Clone Wars era Jedi the Bryn'adul had been facing, than no question: The Jedi wouldn't just be losing, they'd be breaking. But they were up against Jedi who killed people just as deadly as they were regularly. A bunch of Jedi that had weathered every setback, every outrage, every single day for years now.

The Bryn'adul thought they knew war. Silly. At best they were where the Mandalorians were in the more ancient wars fought by the Jedi Revan. They were pretty savage too, AND they recruited from defeated cultures, AND they had the charisma to make people go 'LOL whatevs' centuries later after an entire history of genocide, blood shed, cool merchandise, and slap fights. The Bryn'adul had NONE of these advantages. Their crushing, Malachor 5 style defeat was not a matter of if but when.

Soon the ritual was complete and she rose, keeping low on the rooftop battlements to avoid being shot and watched from an angle as undead, flaming Bryn'adul, SJC warriors, and butchered Jedi rose from behind and amongst them to continue the fight, surprising Drones and Baeduran when they used their guns with molten bullets on them. Torn apart flaming Jedi corpses trolled the surprised Bryn'adul by giving them the Devil Horns with their hands as they struck without fear of death, mutilating some of the Brutes and Drones even as they were shot to pieces, exploding in flames that killed more Drones and Risen.

Undead flaming corpses began to swell SJC ranks in the entire Marketplace, taking bullets for still living and freaked out personnel who did not know what the actual feth was going on beyond it somehow being a real life version of a heavy metal cover.

Meanwhile they attacked the Bryn'adul with mindless ferocity, and with flaming corpses beginning to dogpile screaming Bryn'adul and rip them apart with the swords they used in life, or shot them repeatedly. By themselves they were not enough to win, but they would soak up ammo for valuable SJC still alive while forcing the enemy to waste ammo and stamina trying to go through enemies they had just slain...

Syd got up, the inacting of the ritual complete. It would run out after fifteen minutes but boy oh boy they would likely be pissed for all of it...

The flaming corpse allies of the SJC continued attacking relentlessly...

She turned to Starlin.

"Can you fight?" She asked.

Caedyn Arenais

Yula Perl

Beltran Rarr

Osam

Keldothera

Gordrak

 

[Mathieu Brion]

Location: Outskirts
Troops: 5 Mechanised Kastolar Platoons, numerous soldiers carrying LPD-39 Coldblast Cryoban Grenades and LPD-37 Coldstream Cryoban Rifles
Equipment: Ashlas wristguard | Espresso Revolver | 10 L'Escargots with Cryoban charges | Stun baton | Two Lightsabres | Brion Substance Regulator | Electromagnetic pulse emitter | Covert Jedi Robes on top of Gundark II-class Power Armor | 5 LPD-39 Coldblast Cryoban Grenade | LPD-40 Icejet Miniaturized Cryoban Projector | Commlink
Allied tag: Cadere
Hostile tag: Argaloth

The fight against the Skags was already a desperate one. Mathieu was concerned for what they might face when the Bryn eventually start pouring in over the hill but for now, their defences would hold. They had to.

While the battle against the Skags who had made it up raged on, the ice and the heavy fire which the Kastolar troops directed at their foes down below proved efficient. Even if it did not kill quite as many as they had hoped, it did slow them down. And that was precisely what was needed. For then came the air support.

A thunderous orchestra of explosives hit the Bryn forces below as the ships flew by. Much of the ice quickly started to melt - but it was all worth it, for the impact on the Bryn forces seemed considerable. Once it was safe to even look at the nightmare-like fields below, the the troopers started bombarding the fields with Sundae Shells again, filling them with ice. The Bryn troops would also receive their fair share of attacks.

But the hill could not be held forever. The Concord forces packed a heavy punch and had even called in air support, but in order to prevent a full scale Bryn charge, they would have needed much more firepower than they could currently muster. And while the Bryn were sure to take some casualties as they shot the ice asunder, they did reach the hilltop eventually.

As the Bryn forces came up, they dwarfed many of the humanoid troops, turning what had just been a controlled assault onto sitting ducks in a valley into a desperate fight for survival. In the command centre in the middle Frittata Transport, Major Dansk and Mathieu watched as their lines were being pushed back. Calls from numerous squad leaders came in - but many soon turned into pained screaming as the Bryn onslaught continued.

For too long, Major Dansk just floated there, seemingly stunned by what was happening - the Bryn had broken through her defences. Mathieu's eyes shifted between he and the field of holotable detailing the field of battle. They had to act, he knew that, and seeing as the Major was in what could only be described as a state of shock, it meant that he had to act.

Contacting the Frittata transports, Mathieu told them to activate their thermal distortion fields. He had been part of the team that designed the transports and was well aware of their functions. These fields would hopefully prove highly efficient against the Bryn whose sight was thermally based. They could plow through the Concord troops in a melee, but Mathieu hoped that this would blind them.

Continuing, he contacted the troops. "The thermal fields are active. Spread out, don't stand close. Surr-" he couldn't complete the sentence, for Dansk took over, seemingly having fully recovered and now back to her old self "Surround and destroy. All arms allowed. We're in this to win it." Mathieu sent a grateful smile at the Major, happy to see her back in action, and she gave him a nod of approval.

Many of the small little Pimento drones were distraught. They had let most of the Bryn volley slip past when the monsters first made it up on the hill - the close range and need to adapt and seek higher elevation had, combined, made it hard for them to catch the large projectiles. But with their heuristic learning capacities and networking, they were quick to learn and adapt and now when the Bryn were at a close range, they would be able to target grenades just as they were thrown, likely causing more damage to the Bryn than the Kastolar troops.

Still, there was no denying that the fight was a desperate one - for even when practically blinded, it was hard to deny that a Bryn soldier was still a force to be reckoned with. Not to mention a Skag or a Ravager. But at least their retreat had been slowed and and for each soldier who perished to a rampaging Bryn, their friends were sure to get a few good shots in, whether it be with the L'Escargot loaded revolver, a cryoban grenade or the MEAT Launcher.

 

[AMCO]

Location: Following a crazy pink woman.
Objective: Study and/or atomize the genocidal crabs.
Equipment: Polyweave Suit, Shield Talisman, Empyrean Gland, [2] Jin'Pins, [6] Prosperian Soulstones
Writing With: Yula Perl | Auteme

Once upon a time, Adrian would have folded like a house of cards caught in a gale at the suckerpunch, but no longer. Had he toughened up, become a warrior worthy of the ancient traditions of the Sith Order? No, no absolutely not, but his post-human body was hardier and equally important to the soft Sith experienced pain less acutely, allowing him to retain a smug, almost mocking smirk in response to the violence.

Collar straightening itself as she let him go, the smirk remained.

“Any other time, and I would…”

"... follow up with an apologetic kiss?"

Sending his operatives back into the shadows with a telepathic command, he felt confident enough that they would secure his specimens to amble after Yula, if only to get more time to analyse his craziest Perl yet. Chuckling warmly at the recently-arrived Auteme's comment, he flashed her a gleaming smile reminiscent of a shark with excellent oral hygiene. "Here I am doing my best to help and I am accosted and threatened with arrest..."

"... I have to say, Jedi hospitality leaves much to be desired."

As if to display his helpfulness, Adrian twirled his fingers with practised precision as he walked, the violence and pain of an escalating warzone surging around him, manifesting as dancing slivers of luminescent red and green energy, a single phrase of ur-Kittât sending it rippling foward...

... moments later, the dead around Sethrak 's position, Concord and Draelvasier alike, began to stir, eyes glowing with primal hunger.

It was time the Bryn'Adul learned the difference between the ever-restrained Jedi and a Sorcerer of the Sith.

 

[Osam]

Objective: Marketplace
Equipment:
Kukri
Verikast Drone Armor
Assault Carbine
Pulverizer Sidearm

Tags:
Syd Celsius (Shot a fire-zombie. Watched some walk into landmines.)
Galak (Dialogue)
Beltran Rarr (Acknowledged Dropship. Mentioned effects since Marketplace is at least mostly underground.)
Starlin Rand (Acknowledged Marksman death. )

Even as the Major eyed his steadily recovering prey, the battle continued to rage around them. There was a thunderous crack from the ceiling of the primarily underground Marketplace as a volley of missiles were launched from some overhead warbird. Some of these would slam directly into the dirt, dropping heavy stones and rocks hither and thither across the area, but others seemed to pass directly through whatever structures jutted out of the underground, slamming into streets and structures. The ensuing volleys of rotary blaster fire followed suit, though these at least didn't seem to dislodge the rocky sky as easily.

Osam and his Risen squadron hunkered down as the volleys passed and jolted from here to there, the above-ground gunship apparently doing its best to strafe targets that by all accounts it struggled to truly visualize. Unless, of course, there was some kind of digital map hooked up into its systems, and information was being relayed by members of their ground team. He supposed it was a possibility - regardless, it quickly became a non-issue. There was another loud banging sound from above as someone dealt with the problem, and the whine of the thing's engine gradually faded out of the auditory range as it limped away from the marketplace.

The Major returned his attention to his prey just in time for them to demonstrate their newfound vigor in an outstretched assault upon the squad. The Marksman of the bunch, the one most skilled in long-range combat let out a grunt of surprise as the intangible fingers of the Force latched onto his abdomen and promptly sent him hurtling towards the gap between structures. He slammed into the wall in an almost comedic fashion, limbs splayed out at all angles, but his fate quickly became far more vivid. With each successive smash, there was the crackle of bones, the gurgle of blood as his lungs were ruptured inside of his own chest, the wild and frantic and painful gesticulations. The walls were stained with a visceral mess until finally the battered and entirely broken corpse was allowed to fall the length of the building - smashing into the hard floor below and sending its legs through its torso in the process.

Of course, the body didn't stay still for very long, even in its accelerated devastation. A fiery malediction came over it, the influence of a caster of flame. The corpse -- if the half-liquified form could even be called such a thing -- stirred and did its best to rise, though the damage was too complete for it to do so. Instead, it merely began to drag itself across the ground, its mouth letting loose an abhorrent sound as a death rattle poured forth from it. Osam ended it with a single round from above with his Carbine, allowing the "thing" to be put to rest.

Elsewhere, he took notice as others of these abominations began to arise both ahead and occasionally directly behind the lines of his allies. Some of the dead had been utterly annihilated by the heavy caliber of their standard guns, and were unable to be returned to life - or at least they had been battered enough so as to constitute almost no threat, but others seemed to be filled with new unlife and vigor. He listened as a distant detonation sounded off, peering off into the distance as a trio of the arisen things ran directly into one of their own landmines, and scattered themselves over a significant distance.

Mindless, without communications, without direction. He expected that a fair number of them would end up in a similar fashion - striking traps that had been passed over by the Draelvasier, or that they'd not reached yet. So eager to catch hold of their enemy that they'd drive themselves directly into the clever landmines of their friends.

It was ultimately irrelevant. They were losing a numerical advantage here, and they'd soon be bogged down again as they'd been at the start of the battle. Taking hold of his message-stone, he dispatched a line to a friend, and a superior - a being of significant prowess who he trusted to make a better decision than General Keldothera.

"Emissary Galak , this is Osam. The Marketplace is heavily-defended, and the enemy has just risen the dead - both ours and their own to defend it. We have dealt with similar threats before through drastic measures, but I believe we lack any nearby Draeyde swarms to sweep the area." A pause, a snap of his fingers as he directed his remaining Risen to fire upon any of the walking-corpses or their cohort who tried to get near the streets under their overwatch. "I'd highly recommend that we abandon our assault here, and rejoin you on the surface. This place would make a good mulch for the Guardian. My recommendations before were ignored by General Keldothera. This is why I have called you." Another pause as a landmine in the distance was triggered by another roving specter. "Your will is like that of our Father's. What do you command?"

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Location: Crashsite
Objective: C | Outskirts
Equipment: Axe | Shield | Armour
Allies: Galak | Primarch Drek'ma | Keldothera | Osam | Krarolk T'manu | Ostak Cl'mana | Sethrak | Kelmor
Vicinity: Gianna Aegis |

He continued forward, carrying his feet forward with every step bringing him closer to the battlefield. His communication stone had been shattered, either in the fighting or the crash. He didn't know which, but either way he was in need of a new one. Even at this distance, all he could think of now were his kin fighting knee deep in the combat, a battle so important that he needed to be there, it was his duty from the day he began this crusade until its end or his. But something stopped him, urged him to stand in place.

He didn't understand it, but the parasite revealed itself moments later as his ears perked up. He heard one of his own call out, but a voice too soft to be Draelvasier. At the edge of the wreckage where he had once stood was a Jedi. The robes worn betrayed that immediately, but she was lithe and small. The Silver Jedi mostly took stock in warriors, not whatever this was. Another assassin perhaps, had they not learned at Hrothgar? They'd need one than one to get the job done. But how - how was she speaking fluent Drael - his language, the species of his kin and more important a sacred treasure of their own species.

Humans had no right to taint the language of a superior race.

He stared long and hard at her, but it felt wrong. Warm. He knew of the feeling of fingers grasping at his mind, how the Seers had interlinked with him to show them their visions; a muddled connection. But this was different, clear with no intention. Pure. But with it came thoughts, of victory at hand and an end to their war. He saw in his mind his kin standing proud over the burning corpse of Nar Kreeta. He saw they growing strong, safe and united. But the distant explosions were a reminder that that had yet to happen. Jedi trickery, like a Siren's call, subtle waves of energy that urged him to walk away from the battle.

But that would not happen.

The ground underneath his feet quaked, strange knotting sounds of sand and flora wrapping themselves round one another as a wall of natural elements was forged - standing tall at his back.

She spoke again, he had not misheard earlier. She spoke Drael, had the Jedi taken prisoners at Yurb? Tortured them into giving up the secrets of their species? He fought the warmth with that knowledge, the tools of the parasites trickery would not work in her favour.

He had a duty to his kin, no matter what she would attempt to do or how many walls she would put in his way. He would not listen, he refused to.

"Get out of my head, Jedi." His eyes sat on the Jedi, he had no patience left.

The thoughts, the foreign feelings drilled in further the longer she stood there. Unmoving - why didn't she move? Why didn't she attack. Why were his mental defences not working, it was if the feeling of her came from everywhere and everything. He hated it, and he hated her. The strength in her purity was a false one. A lie. Growling with frustration, the Titan swung round, shattering the wall with the back of his left arm, quickly and violently turning back round, lurched over his Axe.

"OUT."

 

[Amaru Vusa]

Location: Outskirts
Objective: Protect the City
Allies: SJO
Enemies: Brynadul, Engaging: Adrian L'lerim-Vandiir
Equipment: Jedi Battle Armour - Single Lightsaber - Light-Shield (right forearm)

---

To say that he wasn't surprised he hadn't slain the Brynadul in one move was an understatement. What he hadn't expected was the heavy weighted boot that came up to kick him into the wall. Why couldn't things be easy? His body bounced off the rocky wall, but the armour absorbed most of the blow. The thermal impact gel lining underneath the plates distributed the damage it would've otherwise done to his frame equally, hardening from the impact on his ribs and over his back. The latter cracking from the impact.

Hands clenching into fists as he rolled and pushed himself back up to his feet, the creature had kicked him just out of their range and his hand snapped out, calling his deactivated lightsaber back to his hand.

It was his first time coming into contact with one of the Draelvasier. Large, though not as large as he was expecting, being as tall and built as he was, coupled with the suit of armour he was garbed in giving added layers of height and weight. Still, this alien was faster than he had been expecting. It was a note that he'd make and not forget on this day and the days to come.

While simultaneously dragging that lightsaber into his right hand, he raised his left, and the embedded wrist laser shot out towards the knee joint of the leg that had kicked him. If the alien wasn't going to press the attack, Vusa was going to force Adrian L'lerim-Vandiir into action.

 

[Vaux Gred]

Tags: Primal Architect Primarch Drek'ma Caedyn Arenais Krarolk T'manu Rhea Galak Ostak Cl'mana
Unit: Wraith Division (One T-1 down, multiple tanks losing shields.)

The Wraith Division watched as shells and particle bolts slammed into the Destroyers. Mynock looked happy as he watched. Especially when one of the beasts retreated into the shields. It didn't help the situation though when the others began to step back out. The tanks began to bob and weave to avoid fire, while the assault guns halted, firing their particle cannons into the Mynock gripped the inside of his T-1, looking at the others.

"Load a smoke shell. Green." The loader nodded, slipping the shell in before the gunner fired it into the the Protector.

"Now what?"

"Keep firing!"

Location: The skies above the battle.
Squadrons: Talyc Squadron (8 GF-2Bs), 2x GF-2B Super TwinTail squadrons (24), 2x 8-R Toscan squadrons (24), 3x HA-2 Pike squadrons (12)

Above the battle, the various squadrons began to attack enemies across the battle field. They weren't going to let up yet. Not for anything!

 

[Galak]

Objective A: Kreeta City

Allies; Primarch Drek'ma | Targant Howlain | Osam | Keldothera | Gordrak | Tathra Khaeus | Kelmor |
Enemies: Jyoti Nooran | Laertia Io | The Monster
Gear: Triad Chaingun | Verikast Armour | Cleaver Axe | Crusher Mace
Accompanying: 500-600 Drones [Using Carbines], two hundred Juggernauts, 100 Heavies | 100 Grenadiers

The ringing is his ears didn't stop as he attempted to rise to his feet, the Juggernauts at his side rushing to him to ensure he was alright. He rocked back and forth, his head pounding as he tried to regain his bearings. Galak's eyes found a horrid sight, Galak grappled onto the two Juggernauts at his side, pulling himself up as his eyes held on Pavium. The screams made his body shiver, Galak rushed through the lines of fire - grasping an approaching soldier by the throat, punching his fist through the Silver weakling and casting him aside as he charged to the Captains side.

He was a few steps away from where Pavium lay, but he was already standing on him. His blood stopped running, heart and breath stopped. Pavium lay there, half of his upper torso and his head and shoulders, his abdomen had caved in on itself, ribcage and armour torn and exposed. Below that, his waist and thighs were barley attached and all that was left of him. Pavium looked up at Galak, his torn limbs shaking as Pavium cried out.

Galak crashed to his knees, grasping at Pavium. His eyes, so much fear.

"Hraaaauuuuuuuuuuuh..."

"I have you brother, I have you." He spoke, cradling his kin. Galak held his face, looking into his eyes so that he did not look down at his own form, did not look down at what had become of him.

He watched as the light went out, Pavium's body limp in his arms. This would be the fate of every warrior under his command if he did not lead them well, they had to endure no matter what. As did he.

Galak could not help but wonder where Tathra was and why he was not here fighting alongside them. But it didn't matter, all that mattered was winning. At the same time, a large Juggernaut carrying two Maces leapt into the fray; bludgeoning the enemy. It gave them a hole in their line, a momentary one.

"Juggernauts! Forward! Push now!"

Across the battlefield the Syphons were beginning to disarm the trip-mines in the city, but it seemed as though there were many all across the city. The Syphons worked together to scan the city, there was enough to destroy it. The Jedi had rigged the whole thing to blow, Galak knew panic would ensue if that knowledge reached the warriors.

"Primarch, disarm the bombs in our populated areas." He said over a secure battlenet channel, watching as overhead Ra'maks continued to fire.

Galak's forces were starting their push out the steps, using their rifles to fire into the ground and clearing the mines up the staircase. They were making headway to the centre of the city and the Palace, but they were losing too many soldiers in the process. They needed Tathra or something. But that was when he received a communication from the Risen-leader, Osam. That was it, but he made his response heard to the Primarch & Keldothera as well.

"I agree with Osam, General pull your forces out of the marketplace! Now! Primarch, unleash the Guardian."

A retreat such as this would of no doubt meant defeat if the Silver Jedi were allowed to take the market, but they would not. Galak and his forces would endure whatever was to come, pushing the deepest their forces ever had into the City. They did so with little regard for their own lives, fighting like it was their last hour in the universe. They would be the fist that punched the hole through the enemies line and their retreating forces from the marketplace would help them win.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: A
Allies: Tathra Khaeus | Galak | Voridus Kerwa | Kelmor | Kar'dak | Ostak Cl'mana | Targant Howlain |
Enemies: Jyoti Nooran | Laertia Io | Beltran Rarr | Syd Celsius | Starlin Rand | The Monster |
Equipment: Staff & Cuirass

The Guardian Servitor continued under the ground, moving with great speed and ferocity, tearing through the undergrowth as it headed toward the soil beneath the city depths, homing in on the life signs of the General. The plan had already been set in motion. He felt the power surged through him, eyes glowing like the yellow cored depths of the sun as he saw and felt what the creature felt. Its malice, its hate - hate for those who would dare to step upon equal footing with Drael-kind, it would vanquish them.

"The Syphons will disarm the bombs Galak, take the city. General Keldothera, get your soldiers out of there!" He spoke over the communications system.

But that was the last he would speak to them. His eyes glowed feverously, his entire attention directed to the task at hand.

Can you sense them, Guardian? Feel the heat, the drumbeat of war as the Humans take the underground.

The entire city would rumble as the Guardian would begin to head upward through the earth. Assisting it was a legion of Dredge, tunnelling into the ground after being rallied from one of the nearby nearly seventy of them would begin tunnelling around the enemy defences. The Dredge would help them find and locate the bombs, but they would also act upon his will. Soon.

Upon your Command, Emissary

 

[Cadere]

Location: Outskirts
Troops: Personal squad consisting of 15 11 Kastolar soldiers, 5 Mechanised Kastolar Platoons (dwindling), numerous soldiers carrying, LPD-39 Coldblast Cryoban Grenades, and LPD-37 Coldstream Cryoban Rifles
Equipment: 1x Lightsaber | Personal Light Armor | FF-CAR1 | 3x Stimpacks | Comlink | Holoprojector
Allied tag: Mathieu Brion
Hostile tag: Argaloth

Thankfully, Cas had managed to avoid being turned into a piece of meat on the floor by the Skags and even luckier it seemed two of them were in-fighting - the Cosmic Force seemed to favour him today. Igniting his lightsaber to try and get in on the action while the two were killing each other, however, the Jedi noticed the heavy armored tail headed his way and made his best efforts to evade it with an air cartwheel but its swift speed managed to catch Cas in the rib, knocking him a few metres across the battle zone. Groaning, he weakly got up to his feet, certain that he'd cracked a rib - pulling a stim from his belt, he jabbed the vial's needle into himself allowing its healing liquids to numb his pain although he'd need to check it later. Fortunately, the two Skags were taken care of.

With the remaining Skag, Cas yelled into his communicator "Focus everything on the Skag! Everything! CryoBan rifles, grenades, MEAT launchers, all of it! Don't let it breathe, it can't withstand the cold forever!" the Jedi ordered, for they needed to quickly dispose of the hellish creature before the real threat arrived. With no arguments or complaints, with the 11 members of his squad left, they lit up the Skag with as much of their CryoBan equipment as they could. Hopefully it was enough.

*******​

Witnessing the aerial bombing, Cas smiled and pumped his fist - hopefully that did some damage, enough for the Kastolar soldiers to get their bearings at least. Then he started to realise it wasn't enough, watching as the Bryn began to climb up the hill as they blasted apart the ice on the hill "Nononono..." he muttered to himself, speaking into his wrist comm Cas cried out "Jenko! Dax! Voe! I'm gonna need you guys to--" but all he could hear was static, realising the worst had happened to them. As the Bryn drew closer, Cas began backing away slightly in hopes of regrouping with the others but it was too late as they all stormed up top like a raging wave.

And it seemed he had made a "friend" "Oh, hi!" he quipped as the Jedi watched the Juggernaut wind up its attack, which was practically in slow motion to Cas due to its large size and heavy armour. The Jedi easily avoided the attack with a simple backward handspring, Cas had read the dossiers on Juggernaut Heavies, their armor was strong... really strong but they were slow, he just needed to figure out a way to use his own speed to buy him enough time to damage that armor they have. Maybe he could do something about the exposed parts in their armor, but that would have to come later.

Cas quickly used the short window he had to slide between the Heavy's legs before promptly standing up behind him and leaping onto his shoulders - he had no plan right now, but he was figuring it out. In the corner of his eye, he saw Argaloth, looking all big and scary and speaking in his native tongue but Cas' eyes quickly widened when he saw him lift a boulder and hurl it at some of the troopers "NO!" he cried out, stretching his arms forward, desperately calling upon the Force to halt the boulder. Unfortunately it was too large and too heavy, Cas slowed it slightly but he ultimately failed in stopping it and the troopers it landed on were instantly killed.

Upon Mathieu and Major Dansk's orders following the Thermal shields being activated, Cas' squad along with the rest of the troopers followed their orders and began to surround the Bryn forces. Using this opportunity, Cas quickly leapt off of the Heavy's shoulders and began targeting the exposed points in its armor with his lightsaber, ordering any nearby troopers that ranked lower than him to target its weak points as well with their CryoBan weaponry.

 

[Yula Perl]

Location | Marketplace
Allies | SJC | Auteme (with) | AMCO (with) | Starlin Rand | Syd Celsius | Jyoti Nooran | Vaeri | Beltran Rarr | Caedyn Arenais
Enemies | Bryn | Sethrak | Osam | Keldothera
Tools | Emily | Nail Implants | Sentinel Droid (x20) | Nondescript lightsaber & blaster | Remote detonator

The fact that the punch hadn’t raddled his smirk away infuriated her on instinct, but she held onto that burst of energy and saved it for the Bryn. The way he’d finished her sentence for her left acid in her mouth.

“You really are a smug bastard.”

Force, she hated clever opponents. The Jedi’s archives had filled her in on the basics; scientist, charming, lacks morals. If he hadn’t been a Sith Lord and taken her sister, maybe they would have gotten along. They shared more common ground than Yula cared to admit.

She turned away to scan their surroundings, the comm chatter in her ear giving her a rough location of the Bryn’adul movements. The signals from her sentinel droids were fading, which meant that the aggressive battle bots were being destroyed. “I’m heading up there.” She pointed to the nearby building where the droids had swarmed, eager to see what was tearing through her creations like wet tissue.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Auteme lean closer to Adrian, her face hardening with solemnity. She didn’t catch what the Jedi said, leaping away and climbing up the building with Force assisted hops, ricocheting between the walls of various structures as they went. The other woman hadn’t said much, and didn’t seem intent on seeding the area with mines as Yula and Emily had before the Bryn arrived. Hopefully, she was a good combatant.

Scrabbling halfway up the building, Yula paused as another explosion shuddered through the block, causing the building to sway and debris to peeper the air. Bracing herself against a window, she peered over her shoulder to see one of her sentinel droids sparking from each end, it’s head caved in and it’s legs a tangled, severed mess. Frowning, she peered below in time to see @Sethrak’s exit.

Falling from her vantage point, the Zeltron plunged down towards the Draelvasier, lightsaber ignited and poised for a deadly strike. Mid-fall, shadows rose around the Bryn’adul warrior, and it took her a moment to realize them as shambling reanimated corpses.

“…VANDIIR!”

 

[Krarolk T'manu]

OBJECTIVE: C
LOCATION: Nar Kreeta, Outskirts
ALLIES: The Bryn'adul | Ostak Cl'mana | Tathra Khaeus
ENEMIES: The SJC | Engaging Kat Decoria
EQUIPMENT: In signature, Spitter Utility Bow (1x grappling hook, 10 8x explosive arrows)
UNITS:

• 1x Zealot Major, 8x Zealot Minors, all moderately wounded & exhausted

LEADERSHIP

"Let's fall back to the position of the Minors and regroup." called Krarolk to the wounded Zealot Major at his side. "I'll cover us."
​

Krarolk reached down towards his quiver and loaded an explosive arrow into his Spitter, gesturing for the Major to run. As she left the safety of the boulder, he fired the arrow blindly into the enemy defensive vanguard, hoping to deter them for long enough to escape. Though his limbs protested, Krarolk knew that he could and would arrive safely behind the next boulder. If the Elite perished before then, the entire unit would fall apart.

Krarolk and the Major leapt behind the boulder just as machine gun fire began traveling in their direction. This boulder was even larger than the previous one, six meters in length, twenty meters in width, and five meters in height. In its shadow lay eight wounded and demoralized Zealot Minors. They all turned their heads in his direction, surprised to see another Draelvasier alive in such withering conditions.

"I'll introduce myself right now so we don't run into any problems." stated Krarolk before the Minors could speak. "I'm Zealot Elite Krarolk T'manu, and I'm taking over your unit at the request of the last surviving Major, here with me. I'm an experienced warrior - listen to everything I say, and you will not die."

"You have to get over your wounds and despair, and do so quickly. That might sound harsh, but so is all of warfare. We will not survive if we grovel and wait for our enemies to scoop us up in their scheming hands."

"As Zealots, our effectiveness in this type of combat is greatly limited. However, we still have our uses. If we flank small enemy detachments and strike their commanding officers, we can cause enough disarray to eliminate the rest and resupply with their equipment. Think of it as an active raid."

"This will require strength and stamina, which not all of you will have. If you do not want to come, feel free to join your kin in the grave. But if you do seek to redeem this unit's honor, then come with me."

To Krarolk's surprise, the entire unit rose up, regardless of how deep their injuries lay or how spent their limbs were.

"I'm sure you'll be less eager once you see what we're facing. Come with me."

The Elite took the lead, followed by the Major and the Minors, lined up behind the boulder. Krarolk peeked around the left edge of the rock, scanning the battlefield. After about ten seconds of searching, he found a jackpot. A single Jedi rushed by about thirty meters ahead, seemingly without much of a unit to protect her. Perhaps they had suffered the same fate as this unfortunate squad, thrown into chaos by a single artillery strike. It was irrelevant - what mattered was that a valuable enemy was in front of them now, and slaying her could restore the morale of the broken company.

Plus, Krarolk had nearly obtained the head of a Jedi on several occasions, only for them to withdraw like the cowards they were deep inside their pitiful hearts. However, with a Zealot unit at his back, there would be no easy method of escape.

"One Jedi with minimal support, up ahead." called Krarolk. "The first to get her head keeps it!"

The Elite loaded another explosive arrow into his Spitter, pointed it so its arrow would arc towards the female's center of mass, and fired the arrow.

Then, he sprant. Behind him, the other Zealots let out cries of rage and anguish as they joined the Elite in launching one last desperate offensive against the Jedi they sought to swarm. In a sustained fight, their exhaustion would likely get the better of them.

However, the Zealots did not intend to let the Jedi live long enough to see such a result come to fruition.

 

[Argaloth(Dead)]

Atmospheric theme​

Location: Outskirts of Nar Kreeta City
Troops: 2 1 Ravager Brute, 3 1 Juggernaut Corps, consisting of 40 units each with various types of Juggernaut units, such as Captain, Major, Minor, Grenadier and Heavy, Drones within each company and a batch of 10 0 Drael Skags beast mounts.
Hostile tag: Cadere and Mathieu Brion

The battlefield had completely shifted and was now in very close quarter location, surrounding in desert-sand and rocky formations. However, with so many of the Bryn forces being taken out by the airstrike, there weren't as many Bryn warriors who gave over the hill, while still plenty to pose a serious threat and that was what the Kastolar soldiers quickly would find out. Many were slaughtered, which the Bryn warriors covered themselves in the blood of the fallen Kastolar soldiers, causing psychologically warfare against the Kastolar soldiers.

But, with that said, many Bryn soldiers also faced death as they were gunned down by various Kastolar weaponry and ammunition. The sneaky activation of the thermal fields from the Frittata Transports parked along the line of the defensive Kastolar border took most of the Bryn forces by surprise. Blinded and confused, many of the Juggernaut soldiers fell, completely breaking from fighting, over the sudden blinding.

The Heavy Juggernaut that had tried to attack and kill Cas, found himself both blinded and the Jedi holding on to his back, shaking violently to get the kid off. The Heavy Juggernaut Bryn warrior exhaled his last breath when Cas killed him and fell to the ground, motionless. However, the thermal field might have blinded the Bryn forces, the Skag was a completely different matter and it continued to bring death upon any non-Bryn forces in would find. Due to its high mobility, made it very hard to hit as he tore through soldiers by the dozen.

Further down the killing field, the other surviving Ravager Brute had completely decimated everything where it broke through the line and had now found its way to one of the five Frittata Transports. Between putting its whole body against it to get the vehicle to trip over or going completely apeshit on it. The people inside of it would even hear the insane tearing through their Frittata Transport's heavily armoured shell more and more.

The massive Ravager Brute locked target with one of the large Frittata transport vehicles and while the Thermal Field made him temporarily, not to mention, getting shot every now and then by enemy soldiers, he kept running. The Cryoban was extremely painful but it took more than a few fancy weapons to take him down. Charging shoulder-first into one of the Frittata vehicles, like the other Ravager did further down the line and clawed his way through the heavily armoured shell.

 

[Targant Howlain]

Location: A few hundred meters outside of the Outskirts
Allies: Bryn'adul, Tathra Khaeus , Argaloth , Primarch Drek'ma , Galak , Voridus Kerwa , Kelmor , Kar'dak , Ostak Cl'mana
Enemies: SJC , Cadere , Mathieu Brion , Gianna Aegis , Vaux Gred
Forces: 1x Drael Skag , 1x Draeyde Swarm (300) , 4x Hive Bomb ( Inbound, full compliment)

​

As seconds passed the swirling swarm above Targant Howlain grew into a cloud visible from great distances around. The beating wings of the Draeyde causing the sky to distort and shimmer behind them. Though his numbers had been largely depleted by the rough impact causing the frail Draeyde to perish upon impact, the lucky survivors cushioned by the flesh of their fallen broodmates, his swarm would still present a challenge.

Targant's lipless mouth sneered towards the sky as the remainder of his forces seemed to have made it past the orbital conflict and into the atmosphere. There above in the sky were a quartet of Hive Bombs speedily hurling themselves towards the ground near Targant Howlain 's crash site.

His attention then turned back towards the outskirts where Bryn'adul were locked in bloody combat with the machines, Jedi, and soldiers of the Silver Jedi Concord. It was only a matter of time before the Draeyde descended upon the various battlefields. Weak though they were their presence and harassment would not be diminished. For who but the most stalwart could stand their ground and remain focused while large, leathery winged abominations swooped and clawed at them with vicious cries for blood?

There was still time for interception from his adversaries, but the effectiveness of the Hive Bombs would not be entirely nullified by their destruction as their destruction was all a part of the process that made these mutant beasts worthwhile. Would the Silver Jedi Concord atmospheric support be successful in thinning the incoming reinforcements if only by a little? Battles were won and lost on chains of small events.

 

[Starlin Rand]

Location: Being shot at in the Marketplace
Gear: Starlin Rand's lightsaber | Mt. Muspelheim Shoto | FENELAR ARMOR (ripped up around the legs)
Allies: Syd Celsius | SJC and allies
Enemies: Keldothera | Osam | The Bryn’adul and allies

The dead were roaming the streets, first in the form of Syd’s fiery spirits, then in the shambling space zombie fashion of Adrian Vandiir’s Hollow Hungerers™. Given all the activity that arose around them, causing Starlin to hobble his way through a 360 degree spin to see it all, he didn’t immediately respond to Syd’s question of whether or not he could still fight.

“Uh… sort of?” he replied.

More Bryn (his writer is lazy and can’t be bothered to decide the exact sub-race) were pouring into the street. Starlin high-fived a Jedi that passed by on his way to kill them, then boosted his comrade into the air with telekinesis. The Jedi launched at the Bryn like a bowling ball wielding two sabers, and the Bryn played the role of dismembered bowling pins.

“Strike!” Starlin's enthusiastic fist pump earned him a dose of pain shooting up his legs. Wincing and ooh-ahhing, he turned back to Syd and exhaled. “See, I can use the Force, but I can barely stand, let alone walk… maybe I can blend in with those zombies.” His tone joking, he pointed toward one of the Hungry Undead. But then the tip of his extended finger suddenly sparked, causing Starlin to yelp in surprise.

The spark in question was emerald green, the distinct color commonly associated with Electric Judgement. It launched toward the zombie at roughly the speed of a tennis ball thrown for a dog to fetch. The poor wretch had just enough time to turn and gaze dully at the incoming projectile. Then the Light collided with the Lone Hungerer and promptly undid whatever was holding it together with a noise like a twinkling-pixie-dust xylophone chime, followed by the rattle of bones, dusty flesh and dirty rags clattering to the ground.

“...What the chit?” Starlin whispered, his eyes once again darting around. “What was that? Did you make those? Who—who made these guys?... Is there a Sith somewhere around here?...”

Extending his arm, he began slowly turning around in a circle again so that he was pointing in each direction at least once. Eventually, there was another green twinkle of light, this time heading back toward the area where he had been dropped off. It tried to fly straight, but there was part of a half-destroyed building in its way. The light sort of bent around the brick corner of the structure, its trajectory warped as it made its way into the alleyway Starlin had run past while screaming like a madman, where it either whistled over AMCO 's dome and dissipated harmlessly somewhere behind him with a squeaky sound effect more akin to a fly's fart than fairy flatulence... or ventured near enough to potentially cause one of his Jin'Pins to pop. Tune in next time to find out.

 

[Mathieu Brion]

Location: Outskirts
Troops: 5 Mechanised Kastolar Platoons, numerous soldiers carrying LPD-39 Coldblast Cryoban Grenades and LPD-37 Coldstream Cryoban Rifles
Equipment: Ashlas wristguard | Espresso Revolver | 10 L'Escargots with Cryoban charges | Stun baton | Two Lightsabres | Brion Substance Regulator | Electromagnetic pulse emitter | Covert Jedi Robes on top of Gundark II-class Power Armor | 5 4 LPD-39 Coldblast Cryoban Grenade | LPD-40 Icejet Miniaturized Cryoban Projector | Commlink
Allied tag: Cadere
Hostile tag: Argaloth

Major Dansk was in command. It was a thought that brought peace to the minds of many of the Kastolar troopers. Her voice once more came through on the commlinks "They're blinded near the Frittata's, don't stray. Keep forming crescents around them. Aim the L'Escargots on spots that have already been softened up by the Sundaes. Let's beat these huttspawn back and go home." The Major smirked as she put the comlink away. Looking to Mathieu, she let out a soft "My kids miss me. Going to teach my youngest how to shoot properly when we get back from this" The Padawan looked at her fondly - he was about to speak but his attention was quickly pulled away by the battle.

A ravager brute was plowing through their front lines in the centre. It probably couldn't see anything, but it still managed to catch way too many soldiers on its charge. "Ice the ground and keep backpedaling" his instructions carried out to the troops in the platoon belonging to the centre Frittata which he was in. While it may have slowed the beast down a little, it was not enough to keep it from its goal - the source of the thermal distortion field.

Mathieu kept a close eye on the holotable. In the background, he heard how Dansk was doling out orders to troops on the various fronts. His eyes were drawn to another Ravager Brute, this one ( Argaloth ) seeming to be larger in size than the one at the centre, charging towards one of the Frittatas. Mathieu contacted that Frittata at the left flank "Brace for Impact! You're getting charged. Br-" he didn't even get close to finishing the last sentence, for while he had only focused on the charge at their flank, he had missed that his onw Frittata was also getting charged.

The vehicle shook violently upon being attacked by the Ravager - but it would be a while before it could break through its strong armour. Most of the staff inside stumbled upon the impact and had to find something to hold on to. All but two people who stood out. Mathieu was clad in Gundark Class Heavy Armour and would quickly find balance and could even support others. Major Dansk also stood out - she was flying and would not be affected by the floor underneath her being moved. In this case, that was bad - very bad. For it meant that she would be still while the wall she was next to came bashing into her.

A wing broke and in her fall, an arm did too. The Toydarian let out a pained roar. Mathieu quickly crouched down to check on her "Major, are you alright?" it was a silly question, for he could see that her one wing and arm were positioned in a way that no limb should be positioned. The pained roars kept coming - anyone with a heart would feel sympathy for her, and then came the words, suffering but still strong "I won't be able to teach him to shoot" Mathieu shook his head "You will heal, don't you worry" The woman just shook her head "Brion, you used to be a mercenary, right? You know your way around a blaster?" She had only broken a few bones, her grim outlook on the situation confused him but he nodded.

He nodded, and then he saw blood. A shiver spread across his entire being - a shiver and a refusal to recognise what was happening. "Major!" he exclaimed, eyes searching frantically for the wound. It was only then that he saw it - the handle of a combat knife stuck out through her other wing and pierced through her back, it had probably reached all the way in to her critical organs. "Dansk!" her eyelids looked heavy and it started to become clear to him that she was fading. "Medic! Dansk is down!" he roared before looking back to her "I'll teach him to shoot, okay? I'll teach your kid to shoot. He'll... he'll be the greatest marksman on Toyda-..." he spoke with a desperate eagerness but it soon became obvious enough that the Major had died. In truth, he didn't even know if she heard his promise - and in a way, that broke his heart - for he wished that she would pass, at least knowing that her wish would be fulfilled.

With his eyes getting wet, the Padawan zoned out. The other staffers scrambled around him and their fallen leader, but Mathieu remained still. He had looked to Dansk as a mentor and friend. They had not spent all too much time together, but her competence and charisma had him hoping that he would be able to accompany her on future missions too. That was not going to happen now.

It was almost as if the voice came from a hundred metres away - but the captain, who was now the most senior officer, was standing right next to him "Brion, get out there, help the troops deal with that Bryn, keep the comms, we'll still need your input." It was not the same. The Padawan would have followed the Major's orders in a heartbeat, he trusted her. He trusted the second in command too, but it was not the same. The man did not have the same expertise as she did and he did not command the same level of respect and loyalty among the troops either.

The captain did not give up - he was at work and he was a true professional. Just as everybody else, he adored the Major, but he knew that they still had a battle to fight. Leaning in to look the large Morellian in the eyes, he spoke once more "Mathieu. Look, you need to go, you cannot let this paralyze you. It's time. Go!" The Padawan had so many thoughts whirling about in his mind, but when the final word was said, his blank stare disappeared and his eyes met those of the Captain's. "Yes, Captain." and with that, he rose and moved to the exit ramp.

Exiting the vehicle was a shock in itself. No longer did it all get filtered through sensors transmitting data to a holotable. And no longer did he horrendous screams get filtered through a commlink to eventually be put on mute. Explosions were going off everywhere, injured troopers laid crying on the ground, often in a fetal position. Strong men and women were, at the end of the day, only their parents children and it was fortunate that no parent had to see their child like this, because it was certain that it would have broken them fully. Mathieu had seen battlefields before - he knew what it was like, but it never became easier. In fact, he had more responsibility now than ever before and as if that was not enough, he could feel it. He could feel the pain and the suffering - all it took was for him to reach out and connect with the force.

He wanted to fall down to his knees and give up. He wanted it a lot. But he didn't - he had a Bryn to fight. It had already torn away a few pieces of armour and with that, the Jedi sprung to action. First, he threw a cryogrenade at its feet, he then enhanced his speed and strength to quickly jump up on top of the Frittata to send out a short stream of cryoban at the beast's face with his Icejet, hoping that it would let out a pained roar so that he could fire 3 L'Escargots into its mouth, both to drop some cryoban inside its armour, but also to let the drills work directly without having to pierce through any armour.

In the distance, the Frittata which was under attack from Argaloth was starting to break. More and more armour plates were being stripped away and the fire which the nearby soldiers produced seemed to carry little effect. It was a desperate battle and the losses on that front were increasing. The Bryn would not need much more before the vehicle broke along with the thermal distorter it carried.