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LANDFALL The Bryn'adûl and Silver Jedi Concord Junction of Charros IV & Nar Kaaga
The Bryn'adûl are once again victorious against the fledgling Silver Jedi. Breaking their hold of a dozen star systems in the wake of the conflict at Sarka, crushing the Concordian military in a savage strike. Now the victors lead campaigns of forces in-mass to wipe clean the newly freed worlds of the pathetic slime that inhabit them and their Jedi protectors who have dared to remain.
Cut off from the rest of the Concord, the weak fight on with no purpose but a fitting end. The Bryn'adûl's war horde bring down the hammer on Charros IV. The Jedi have been overwhelmed as our Burrowers have blacked out the sun, crashing down into the surface; hungry for the blood of the Concord and its fraudulent Jedi - those whom had sworn to protect them will watch as the Xi Charrians dwindle into nothing, their civilisation ripped from the face of the Galaxy to be replaced with the superior constructions of our fighting Bryn'adûl. They scramble to protect what little defences remain as we encroach upon them, unrelenting in our conviction to see these worlds claimed for our own.
We will go where they live, where they sleep and we will wipe them out. All of them. Their factories will be destroyed, their defences annihilated. The Concord must be reminded that their defiant efforts are made in futility!
Everything they have built, must fall. Destroy their cities, facilities and most importantly them themselves. Kill everything in your path, wipe this planet clean of natives & Concord filth.
OBJECTIVE: Defence Removal
In the centre of the colonial city lies an defence platform, housing an orbital cannon and a variety of anti-air defences and turbolasers beating back our ground assault. Take the city, destroy the cannon. Defeat what remains of the Concord military.
Recuperating from the attack of the Bryn’adûl which had crippled many planets within this stretch of the galaxy would be a monumental task but now the Concord was forced to flee from Charros IV and the neighbouring systems, accompanying the natives who inhabited them. Their forces had been overwhelmed and they could no longer guarantee protection to those they promised but they would not so easily abandon the people who had depended on them - even though the battle was lost and would likely result in more losses to themselves.
As the planet scrambled to evacuate, the Jedi and allies rushed to arms to hold the enemy off for long enough to ensure as many lives were saved as possible. The nature of the situation meant panic was rife and there was evidence of disorganisation within the Jedi who were struggling with battles on several fronts across several planets against the formidable enemy who were cleansing planets of their populations.
Protecting the native Xi Charrians was paramount but there were internal matters for the Concord to contend with also. The planet housed several factories whose production had been adapted to producing weaponry when the threat of the Bryn’adûl became very real to the galaxy and the military base situated on the planet allowed for access to sensitive Concord information. A balance needed to be struck between protecting their beneficiaries and themselves.
In one final push, the Jedi needed to retain as much ground as possible for as long as possible to buy time. With no organised military of their own, the Xi Charrians were dependent on their Jedi benefactors for help. The situation looked bleak for the planet and its natives but with the Concord's aid they could avoid becoming another blot in a history book by taking refuge on an unafflicted planet, free from the clutches of the tyranny that sought to obliterate their home.
Ultimately, they would be unable to save everyone so today would provide a grim reminder of the harsh reality of fighting the good fight but the Jedi could take heart in knowing they did all they could and that their fallen allies gave their lives for a righteous cause.
Life would persevere.
As devoted engineers, the Xi Charrian are famed for their experimental technology. Under the influence of the Concord, some of their focus has shifted onto providing weapons needed by the Jedi and allies to sustain themselves against the relentless forces of the Bryn’adûl. Go to the factories and salvage what weapons you can.
The native Xi Charrian are a sentient, hive-minded, insectoid species who are far from primitive with their engineering endeavours and religion to show for. Their planet is lost to the Bryn’adûl and we can no longer ensure their safety here. Help to protect and evacuate as many locals as possible.
The city houses defences against orbital bombardment and aircraft. Protect these defences to ensure the smooth escape of our own forces and minimise civilian casualties. However, know that the planet is lost and the goal is to prolong the functionality of our defences - fleeing may prove to be necessary.
Charros IV has access to sensitive information, including the location of military bases and temples off-world, as well as plans for the unique experimental weapons being produced on the planet. Destroy all information located in a military base and escape.
We are not here to win a fight against the Bryn. We lost control of this planet in the last invasion against them so it is now neutral. The objective now is to salvage and flee. That’s not to say there can’t be smaller individual victories but the narrative as a whole is we’re scrambling to escape. We’re not pushing for victory or control of the planet - The narrative is the aftermath of losing an invasion.
Or'Fol sat aboard the evac ship as it came in for landing. He knew what this mission would entail. Hold back the Bryn before they could kill the Xi Charrians. He had volenteered to station at the evac zone then, to stop them should the line fail. He would feel the vessel touch down before walking off the ramp, and looking out. This fight wasn't a fight for victory. It was a fight for survival.
The Herglic would continue forward, igniting his lightclub as he looked out at the battlefield. It was time now. Time for the archivist to enter the field and fight....
Objective IV: Perhaps the archives are incomplete. Accompanied by: Jaina Grayson (Combat Configuration) Tags: Open
The military base was bustling with activity as soldiers, supplies, and gear were hurriedly removed. After the Bryn victory at Sarka and the loss of a huge swath of territory, the legions of genocidal lobsters had turned their attention to Charros IV, which had been cut off from the Silvers in the process.
"Jedi Master Errik Nimdok," the professor murmured under his breath as he walked in the opposite direction of the flow of traffic. "Grandmaster of Knowledge of the Silver Jedi Order."
"The change is not official yet," Jaina grumbled.
Nimdok smiled. He was insufferably pleased with himself all the same.
They were headed for the base's computer system, intent on emptying it of all data. The Bryn would not gain access to any important information today.
The mantle of the Starchaser is to do what is right. Protect those who can’t protect themselves, and bring the light to where it is needed. I am only one man, and I am tasked by the Force to unite the Jedi, and kep them working together. It is up to the two of you to find where you belong in this galaxy.
Those were the words of his father. No, Coren Starchaser was not dead, not one with the Force. He was doing what he could do best. He was there to fight the Sith, and to lead the Jedi through the turmoil that they constantly find themselves in. Kaia was a Warden and a student of Tiland Kortun, and Jend-ro Quill. She was a Jedi as far as the eye could see. But Jared? He was something different.
Powerful in his own right, and tired of dogma that appears to create more problems than it is worth in the galaxy. The Bryn’adul though, they were a different kind of problem. One his father wasn’t quite suited to fight against. Jared though, was a student of the Jensaarai, the Aing-Tii, and various splinter factions. He had part of the small vagrant fleet that the Starchasers called home at his disposal. Some of the larger vessels had their orders, land and pull the Xi Char back into space. A carrier was waiting in orbit to help pull them while the carrier’s escorts were doing their best to defend the shuttles against the Bryn’adul.
“Green Squadron with me. Keep the fliers off us and be ready to pick us up if something goes wrong.” He ordered from the chair as he landed his Starcutter. Getting up, he made to move for the by a group of Outer Rim Irregulars. Hopper settled into its space on the back of his torso armor. “Away team, we are heading for the records.”
HIs team's goal? Destroy records before the Bryn'adul could pervert them and to pull any archive keepers out.
Charging for Charros IV, the E1-3rd--as its personnel referred to it, prepared for full on conflict with the Bryn’adûl. At the center, the Liberator-class Pegasus cut through the surrounding space, blue streaks of paint lining its dorsal hull, all joining with a broad circle surrounding the Golden Starbird of the Alliance. Flanking her sides, the two Negotiator class cruisers, Valkyrie and Defiant, brought guns to bear. The Iblis class Huntress nestled herself between the Pegasus and Valkyrie, while the corvettes Lullaby, Odyssey, and Ardent took the lead.
Here they were, ready to bring aide to a faction they weren't even members of. But, the Silver Jedi Concord were allies of the Alliance, at least, for the time being.
"Fighters report Condition Green. Shields: Prepped and ready. All ships report Condition Green, commodore."
"Good. Set us to Condition One, prepare to receive enemy fire," The commodore glided her hair to her back and stretched a band over, then moved her hand to wrap about her necklace, "May the force be with us."
The blue jewel, a memory of the world she had left so long ago, stood suspended below her neck and shined with whatever light it could receive and refract. It would only grow brighter after Liedran lowered her hands to her sides, and took a long deep breath. She stood still, waiting for the pounding of missile loaders resonating throughout the hull, waiting for the flurry of reports to flow in.
Meanwhile, the Pegasus' hanger ran amok with flight crews, running past fighters to take positions in designated safe zones. Final ignition sequences were initiated by anxious pilots, and LSOs watched from behind transparasteel windows.
"Exiting hyperspace in...three...two...One."
The rays of white had faded away, and the bright blue backdrop ceased to be. Now emerging from the depths of the multiverse were the ships of the E1-3rd. Sirens sounded throughout each vessel as gun turrets were rotated and adjusted. The hangers came to life, the hallways now illuminated with red strips of light.
"Launch fighters. Pegasus squadrons, move in to engage the enemy, All others, stay behind for screening. Assault ships, prep marines and passenger space. Have the Huntress fire off a missile salvo for their flagship. And patch me in to the jedi."
Liedran waited a moment, as her orders came into execution. Quick presses of keys rang throughout the C.I.C, then the chirp of a communications channel opening.
"Mister Thio, this is Commodore Kathause, You're clear for launch," The commodore quickly made a few nods to the other bridge officers, "Take care of my pilots. And Good luck."
Jax was in his room meditating when he heard that the Pegasus had entered Charros IV, no doubt it was already being torn apart by the Bryn. As he got up, the Jedi sighed exiting his quarters and observing the crewman scrambling around to prepare for battle. The alarm was blaring through out the crew living station. As officers ordered cadets to their stations. Jax knew that BB-12 was in the hangar bay making the final adjustments to his X-Wing and was working on it since they took off form Coruscant. The whole situation was an impromptu setup, the Silvers lost Charros IV to the Bryn and they are in the process of slaughtering civilians in their wake. When word reached Jax, he had to take action the Galactic Alliance was reeling after Ziost but now the Silvers were threatened by the Bryn's presence.
He can not, will not sit Idlily by and watch his close friends get slaughtered. The fall of Bryn signaled that Kayshykk, the Silvers homeworld was vulnerable. It was a straight shot to the planet once the Bryn conquered Charros IV, Jax thought of Kayla Luspark
, Desbre Gensan
, Caltin Vanagor
,his Padawan: Aveline Cuiléin
and all the other friends he's made there. If they were harmed and Jax wasn't there, he couldn't live with himself, the Jedi had to do something after pleading with the GA military only one Commodore answered the call: Liedran Kathause a veteran of many space battles. Much to Jax's surprise, Liedran told him that she was looking for a special detachment from the NJO with clearance to run starfighter ops for her.
Not having a choice, Jax accepted it he was a good enough pilot and his X-Wing was heavily modified for battle so might as well take the offer. He also contacted his friend: Crosten Feyn telling him to meet Jax at the Pegasus. He may be a Smuggler but Crosten was a good man and thankfully he joined Jax. As Jax headed to the briefing room, he received a message from Liedran saying that he was clear to launch. "Thank you ma'am," Jax said. "But I'm heading to the briefing room. I received intel from the surface that could benefit the evac, I recommend that you join me and the others for this."
Jax and BB-12 spent time trying to contact the people of Charros IV and after an hour they finally got through to an engineer who said that he has a special AA gun holding off the Bryn and that they need evac while it holds them off. He sent Jax the copy of the plans and he spent time analyzing them before mediating to get his mind straight. This wasn't going to be a battle but a frantic race to save what's left and Jax hoped that they weren't too late.
A Jedi he was not, he felt half crazy to have made his way into such a hostile and dangerous situation willingly. But he definitely owed Jax for saving his life, and Crosten was a man who paid his debts. Besides, there was little doubt the matter must be important for the Jedi to request his help. And help was promised; he had departed immediately and arrived as soon as he was able with his own personal starship.
The ship itself, Swiftrider-2, was now safely docked in the carrier hold. It held ample weaponry should they need it. But more importantly, as the name implied; it was fast. A talented, if not unorthodox engineer, Crosten had managed to adjust the engines it so that he could get even more acceleration out of them. It wasn’t good for the ship in the slightest, but he reasoned that neither was enemy blaster fire. Should he need to board and flee the Bryn’Adûl, the additional speed would be valuable to have.
By the time they got to the briefing room Crosten was already waiting outside, noting their arrival with a turn of his head.
“Hey, there you are Jax! Said you had something important to go over here, yeah?” he spoke as they approached, pushing himself off the wall he was leaning on to follow him inside the room. It took a while, but he got news of the AA gun; something they would surely need given the situation they were dealing with here. This wasn’t gonna be a defensive fight; this was them buying time for a withdrawl, it became clear.
“We better move fast.” He remarked, all to obvious an observation to make.
It was difficult to think of how the forces of the Bryn'adul had ever managed their planetary invasions without the use of the Burrowers. Here and in their past several conflicts with the Concord, they had been used to the point of nigh exclusivity with some of their other methods of transportation. Why had it taken them so long to perfect the art of orbital drops, and why had it taken so long to recognize that the application of Radesh Oil upon these vessels would allow them to circumvent the defenses provided by the worlds below?
Osam ran his fingers over his Assault Carbine, smiling at the quality of its make as he contemplated the Crusade. Regardless of the time that it had seemingly taken them to adopt the new strategies, they had adapted quickly and managed to seize victory by the throat. Now the Concord forces upon a dozen worlds and systems were broken and battered, bleeding from the onslaught of countless Draelvasier, and it was the prime opportunity to hunt them down like bloodhounds and tear them to ribbons.
Yet, being weakened did not mean they were weak... at least not the point of being completely unable to defend themselves. Osam recognized that they would fail and that the forces of the Crusade would stamp down on the dissident resistance being provided on Charros IV. Nevertheless, rushing headlong into danger was the mark of a fool, and he was not so eager to have his bodily mass reduced once again by the hack and slash of a plasmatic razor shearing through muscle and bone. Flinching at the painful memory felt natural, but it also felt cowardly - if he could stifle the shuttering of terror in his jaw he would, but as it stood he simply needed to endure the brief flash of panic and try his best to appear resolute.
The others saw it in him now... the Sraelvun especially had a certain sense for when others were weaker. They had needed it when they had fought one another for the flesh of the fallen or for scraps of equipment and war-gear. More animal than sapient at times, they lingered on their primal edge, their behaviors swayed by whatever new change in circumstance had come before them. If he didn't reign in his paltry spirit, then he didn't doubt that he would lose at least a degree of his authority among them, and someone who couldn't control Sraelvun could never command Risen or Baedurin. An end to his career meant an end to his usefulness, and down that path lay chewed bones.
The Burrower landed with a mighty crash, spraying soot and debris around with the cataclysmic slam against the world below, and immediately it set about its terrible work, intent on divulging forces hither and thither and of digging throughout chunks of stone and rock and structure in other areas. Osam and his kindred stepped off of the Burrower, and at their side a secondary squad of Baedurin Juggernauts and an Aeravalin Shaman holding sway over a pair of Rhivaks.
Osam set his sight on the distant buzz of a makeshift starport filled with vessels and victims. A simple target for the marauders now that they had touched the ground. With a bark for their attention, the hybrid directed his squad of roughly a dozen Sraelvun, and their far superior supporters to the evacuation zone.
"None leave Charros IV. Make them lick the dust."
Soon, the evacuation zone would face a significant threat.
(OOC NOTE: Or'Fol Moric
- Hiya! Noticed your invitation for a fight, and decided to take you up on it. Hope that's alright! )
-Liberator-class star defender - "Pegasus" - 1500m - Flagship/Carrier
-Iblis-class missile frigate - "Huntress" - 500m - High-yield Missile Platform/Long Range Attack
-2 x Negotiator-class light cruisers - "Valkyrie" "Defiant" - 330m each - Screeners/Assault Ships
-3 x Tantara-class corvettes - "Lullaby" "Odyssey" "Ardent" - 200m each - Light Carriers/Screeners}
"Thank you ma'am," The jedi had said over comms, "But I'm heading to the briefing room. I received intel from the surface that could benefit the evac, I recommend that you join me and the others for this."
"Roger that. I'm on my way," Liedran cut the signal and looked to the Pegasus's captain, "X.O, you have the conn. Make sure we keep our distance."
The commodore set off, crossing through the wide doors that separated the C.I.C from the rest of the Pegasus as the image of the Alliance seal, lined with the words "ANV Pegasus - 1st Expeditionary" running about the rim, split apart. Down she went, following along the hallways and the bustle of activity that filled them, until the entrance to the situation room came into view.
Sitting at the center was the long wooden table, marked with blue edges and supplemented by a contingent of black seats. A bright strip of lights ran across the ceiling and beamed down upon the occupants. Elegant. Yet simple.
"What do you have for me?" Liedran took a seat and interlaced her fingers before her, now glancing between the jedi and his smuggler friend.
She looked primarily to the jedi. Jax Thio, that was. She had considered all the options, only a few hours ago, searching for the jedi with what it took to fly alongside the E1-3rd and the squadrons that dwelled within her ships. Conveniently, he too was ready to answer the call to arms.
Just outside, the Pegasus turned to starboard, slowly bringing a deadly row of turbolasers to face the Bryn forces. She, and her escort group kept within a sweet zone of fire, one where the Bryn would face the same heavy decreases in final damage output that they would. But turbolasers weren't the only keys to victory. Eclipsed by the broad spaceframe of the E1-3rd's flagship was the Iblis missile frigate Huntress, ready to fire off swarms of assault concussion missiles, while scattering in both brilliant and diamond-boron warheads. Five others, two frigates and three corvettes flanked each point of fire, ready to cut down any approaching fighters before they could reach the heavier warships.
The Alliance fighters had set off, splitting into two groups-- one to guard the fleet, and another make the perilous journey to the surface and provide air support.
Slip sat at one of the computer terminals in the base, looking through the sensitive files and records, and just started to begin to purge them. He wore his standard jumpsuit, his green hair standing out among the colors of the room around him. He continued to type away at the console, looking through the files and beginning to delete them. By the Force, this was tedious...
Slip had been assigned to this assignment because he was incredibly adept with computers and such. Apparently that aptitude was enough to assign Slip to the fairly important assignment of purging all sensitive documents. And Slip couldn't refuse, because it was an order, after all. Still, that didn't mean that he was particularly excited about the assignment.
Then, Slip heard a whistle. He turned in his seat, and saw the shadow man at a window, looking outside, apparently interested by something. "Hey Slip, come check this out." The shadow man said, pointing at something.
Slip sighed. "I swear, if this is about another bug the size of my face..." He mumbled.
Slip stood up, and walked over to the hallucination. The shadow man pointed at something in a crowd of people, and Slip looked through the window, trying to follow where he was pointing. "I don't see anyth-" Slip started, before stopping cold, mid-sentence, noticing what the shadow man was pointing out. Oh... OH... it was him... There, walking towards Slip, was none other than Nimdok... By the Force...
The shadow man laughed. "You should see your face!" He exclaimed.
Slip gulped. "Son of a bantha... why is Nimdok here?!" He exclaimed.
"You mean Grandmaster Nimdok." The shadow man replied.
Slip turned to him, even more shocked. "I'm sorry, GRANDMASTER?!" He exclaimed in horror. When did Nimdok become a Grandmaster?! Oh god... Slip was horrified that he was a Grandmaster. Who in their right mind would make Nimdok a Grandmaster?! Someone even more insane than him, that's who!
"You haven't heard? He recently became the Grandmaster of Knowledge or something." The shadow man told him.
"How do you know this and I don't?!" Slip asked.
The shadow man shrugged. "You just don't keep up with the news like I do."
Oh great, this was perfect... It wasn't that Slip didn't like Nimdok, he actually liked the man. The problem was that last time they met, Nimdok went on an entire university-level history lecture. And that was... a bizarre and mind-boggling experience. And if Nimdok was the Grandmaster of Knowledge now... oh boy.
The plasteel helmet shattered like glass under the pressure applied by the gauntleted palm of the Titan. Legs that had only moments ago been struggling, climbing up stairs of air as hands clawed at black-armoured fingers. With a pop, all physical movement stopped as Tathra loosened his grip; letting the body fall at his side. But he wasn't alone, the battle cries of the Concordian troops alerting the Chieftain to their position as they poured out from the building, they understood at least - this was it. Siege Towers stalked through the city, back by Reavers. Their exterior offensive weapons releasing hundreds of rounds of fire, littering the streets of retreating Concord troops and Xi Charrian innocents. The tendrils of the M'gaelak Towers, tearing apart chunks of city to be thrown at the retreating enemy, splattered into pieces beneath meteors of duracrete.
Droves of Savages and Drones moved behind black columns of Juggernauts, pushing through the ranks of the Concord with the ferocity of war-hardened victors. Overwhelming fire power and strength, levelling the city as they went. Charros IV belonged to the Bryn'adûl, and it wouldn't matter who was sent in place of those who fell. They had been cut off, permanently. There was nothing that could save them now.
Blaster rounds ricocheted off of the steel-grey silver plates across his chest, commands and warnings shouted in basic as the soldiers kept looking behind themselves, ensuring the ground was still there. The black gauntlet was raised ahead of him as the fire continued, draining the blaster bolts as they came. He was slow, pacing toward them. Goading the rocket trooper to fire, no doubt he believed he could save them with one lucky shot. He'd have to take it.
"Move! Move!" The man called, crouching onto his knee and opening fire.
Tathra lowered his right hand, turning on the ball of his right foot as he pushed with his left, darting low as the missile passed over his shoulder. The Axe, held tightly in his dominant hand now close to his chest as he rose, cutting through the rocket trooper. Red mist and falling legs now taking the place of the soldiers comrade. The upward curve of the blade bisecting the first to rise, the second put to the cracking gravel by the overhead strike of his black fist; crushing the skull and neck into his collar as the trooper staggered back, gargling on his own blood as he died there on his knees. An explosion rippled through the sky, a landing Burrower cut through by the planetary cannon; a spherical hole rammed through the massive vessels exterior as it began a controlled descent right into the edge of their controlled territory. Nuisance after nuisance. The Silver Jedi were proving to be more resilient defenders than the Sith ever were, but from what he understood of the two cultures that tracked.
At his sides, Juggernauts pushed the Concord back again and again as the Xi-Charrians attempted to flee. The most unfortunate of them were caught in the legs, forced to crawl until they were finished off. The Titan raised his Gauntlet, the mind stone attached to the upside of his palm glowing as it entered his periphery, the neural link flaring as he contacted Warlord Galak.
"The cannon, Galak. Destroy it. I have the battlefront."
The most arduous task had been the liberation of the Xi Charrians held captive by their over-zealous ideals which left them reluctant to abandon the factories that they devoted themselves to. It took a great deal of time from the allies to convince the natives that they were regrettably no longer guaranteed protection and that their only hope was escape and abandonment - much to their dismay.
Once the news had sunk in, they were quick to mobilise and soon the planet's largest evacuation in history was underway. The Xi Charrians were respectfully efficient in the beginning, as could be imagined with a hivemind species, but once the threat of the Bryn came looming over them then panic began to set in and the negatives of a hivemind became clearly evident and made the job of the Concord ever more difficult.
The destruction that pitted the planet was unlike anything the Jedi Knight had seen before. She was no stranger to a war but the scale of destruction she had witnessed on Charros IV was akin to nothing. Her first, but far from final, encounter with the Bryn'adûl would be etched into her subconscious for the remainder of her days but with the way the skirmish was going she couldn't be too sure that this day wouldn't be her last.
The allies were experiencing varying levels of success across the planet, some areas far more dire than others in which the Jedi were being wiped out along with those they sought to protect. Where the Jedi and her fellow Knight were was not a situation as grave as some others. All was not yet lost. They had a chance to aid assist the Xi Charrians here in avoiding the same fate as so many planets before them.
They accompanied several other squadrons who were under the Concord's guidance, including their elite Antarian Rangers, members of their Mandalorian Covenant and several other groups who could not stand the reign of terror from the Bryn'adûl any more than the Concord. All the trained warriors of various creeds stood side by side, under one banner, fighting for what was righteous.
For now, the Xi Charrians they had been tasked with aiding were holed up inside one of the factories while their protectors engaged with the enemy outside in an attempt to clear a path to the ships. The battle had been raging for some time with losses to both sides. The Jedi were sure to get overwhelmed by their beastly adversaries if they were not assisted with reinforcements soon but they remained valiant.
Zemira pulled her blade out of the fallen corpse of one of the opposing infantry, momentarily free from any attack while all around her were engaged. Her ability to sense any nuance in the Force was dullened due to the chaotic nature of the situation but across the impromptu battlefield she could see a Ranger about to take a death blow and instinctively used the Force to fling him out of harm's way... at least momentarily.
Her actions caused an angry pair of eyes to land on the Jedi as the would-be attacker switched his focus onto her and launched in her direction. Being the much smaller and more nimble of the pair gave her the advantage of evasion which allowed her to get in melee range without taking a hit, aided by the pandemonium around her which made a clear aim more difficult. Once close, the ball was in her court.
The Knight slipped under the arm of the Drone as it went to grab her and from behind she quickly bisected the being, causing it to slump to the floor in halves. The battle was beginning to wear out the allied forces and there were no reinforcements in sight while those under their protection were still trapped inside. Slowly, but surely, the morale of the Silver Jedi Concord was beginning to chip away.
OBJECTIVE: Defense Removal
ALLIES: Byrn | Krarolk T'manu
| Open to interaction
ENEMIES: SJC | Open to engaging up to 3 PC opponents
EQUIPMENT: Ceremonial heat-resistant leather Shaman robes
MOUNT: Urasik Wyvern
With a powerful flapping of wings, two monstrous dragons and their equally beastly riders descended upon their prey.
The reflective scales of the Urasik were doing their job well, and relatively little anti-aircraft fire came their way as theey glided through a thin, low-lying cloud layer about two kilometers above ground. Ostak eagerly awaited joining in the slaughter, in receiving the sadistic pleasure of sucking the lives out of the bodies of thousands until they were little more than hollow shells. The Shaman-Overseer had been allowed on the valuable mounts in order to deliver a certain Zealot Elite Squad to their destination, inserting them next to a sewage system that was suspected by scouts to lead directly into the vast defensive platform they were attacking. While a group of Juggernauts or Shamen with beasts would be easily noticed and the sewers shut off, the extensive infiltration experience of the Elites provided them with just the experience they needed.
Ostak occasionally caught a glimpse of the silhouette of the Urasik containing the trio of the Elite Squad, the wyvern as silent and efficient as the Shaman-Overseer's own. Suddenly, a figure on the other Urasik gave a hand signal, their cue to dive. Ostak promptly directed his Urasik downwards at an 80 degree angle, the wyvern folding in its great wings as it shot downwards at a pace that rapidly approached the speed of sound. Artillery fire and bullets flashed by in an instant, kilometers transforming into meters in mere seconds. Barely twenty meters above an abandoned plaza, the Urasik eased out of their dives and banked to the right, circling down to land on the plaza at a mere ten meters per second. The Elite Squad wordlessly departed their mounts, rushing into the fray. Now left alone with two Urasik, Ostak took to the skies once more, looking for the best oppurtunities for uninterrupted slaughter.
The Warlord was knelt in place as the transmission of the Chieftain came through, the red holograph of his physical form towering over he and his horde as the Juggernauts at his side knelt as well. Even amid the chaos around them, as Ra'maks flew overhead using their tri-beams to turn the city into slag along with its residents. As the Titan appeared, Axe in hand. Even through the red glyph was slightly distorted, the voice of Tathra sent a shiver through his spine. Galak was ready to exact vengeance, again and again. There would never be enough Concordian worlds to sate it, one hundred would burn for the death of General Keldothera.
"It will be done, Chieftain." Galak placed his fist against his breastplate, bowing his head slightly.
In a mimicked show of respect, the Juggernauts of the tenth regiment slammed their fists against their breastplate. The rhythm, announcing the beginning of the battle. At least, their battle. The Gunboats took off from the battlefield, moving throughout the city to use their molten plasma throwers to burn the heretical concord fools alive, soaking up the efforts of the anti-air defences. The Concord had set up several defensive positions in their path, ultimately leading to a chokehold ahead that'd get far too many of his own warriors killed.
Galak checked the clip of his Triad, turning to the Beast Master at his side. They would use the Excavators to turn the tide whilst the Quilxyn protected their approach.
"Beast Master, its time to reconstruct the terrain."
OBJECTIVE: Defense Removal
LOCATION: The Sewers, Charros IV
ALLIES: Byrn | Ostak Cl'mana
| Open to interaction
ENEMIES: SJC | Open to engaging up to 3 PC opponents
EQUIPMENT: In Signature
UNIT: Zealot Elite Squad
R A T S The first sensation Krarolk had felt after descending past the sewer grate was isolation.
The Zealot Elite Squad was utterly alone over ten meters underground, their nearest comrades fighting a war of attrition on a surface that looked nothing like the great artificial caverns below. As the trio concluded their descent, they arrived on a large rectangular platform overlooking nearly a dozen different tunnels of sewage and waste. With a shock, the Elites realized that the sewage tunnels greatly resembled those in Dramedius Prime, with perhaps only a few centuries of difference in wear. They had expected a more advanced system facilitated by a vast fleet of droids, but the odd primitive efficiency of the brightly lit tunnels confused and concerned the squad. If the mongrels who were normally so dependent on their fragile machines could create such a durable system of sanitation, then were they truly doomed to inferiority?
Dangerous thoughts. Heresy must not be encouraged.
Doing their best to shrug off any lingering concerns, the trio followed the platform to the left, towards where they predicted the base of the defensive platform lay. Twenty meters later, the platform abruptly ended at a wall with several doors too small for any Aeravalin or Baedurin to enter. With no other choice, they leapt down into the sewage flow below.
It was almost a meter deep and tainted an unnatural shade of brown, requiring the squad to wade through filth that would inevitably cover their bodies for hours to come. However, the Draelvasier did not feel such fickle emotions as vanity. The stench of the sewage that clung to their bodies would mask their smell, the gentle movement of water around their legs not much louder than the small rodents who occasionally scurried about. The trio was confident in their continued advance, calculating that they had traveled over two hundred meters underground without interception. Ultimately, the last piece of goodwill would be essential for their infiltration.
Another thirty meters down, the river of sewage split into three different streams in a trident shape. Not wanting to risk having their words picked up by hidden microphones, the squad efficiently assigned streams to each Elite through hand signals. The Zealot Commander would take the left stream, Krarolk would take the center stream, and Abvor would climb up to the right stream.
With their paths assigned, the trio split up and continued their silent advance, doing their best to swing their focus off local engineering and onto galactic conquest.
Big... big... so big... so stupid Cas repeated to himself internally over and over again as his gaze repeatedly fell upon the colossal Siege Towers trample through the city. Losing wasn't a new experience for the Jedi Knight, but it didn't mean he hated it any less, especially when a large amount of lives were lost - making him partly glad he wasn't part of the initial battle that lost the Concord this territory. However, if he could make up for anything it would be to help evacuate the Xi Charrians.
He hated the Bryn with the passion of Tatooine's binary suns. Yeah, yeah, hatred is a path to the Dark side, but after seeing what these monsters were capable of firsthand back on Nar Kreeta and everything they represent and do, it was hard not to hate them. As long as he was here, Cas would try his damndest to make sure the minimal amount of lives would be lost in this evacuation and he knew there would be lives lost. There always were when the Bryn were involved.
Drones were easiest to kill, and thankfully there was plenty to spare. Balancing on a Drone's shoulders, in one swift motion the yellow blade of Cas' lightsaber had cleanly seperated the Drone's head from its neck. As its body collapsed, the Jedi Knight performed a back flip onto the rubbled ground, clocking a Ranger being held up by his collar, seconds away from being killed, Cas' right arm reached out with his fingers extended, wrapping his control of the Force around the Drone. Then closing his fist, and rotating his wrist Cas pulled his arm inward and with it, came the Drone.
Falling and colliding with the ground a few feet away from Cas, it quickly stood up and rushed toward him before transitioning into a lunge. Stepping to the side, Cas turned and held his lightsaber out, slicing through the Drone once it fell into his lightsaber. "Wish they were all this easy." the Kiffar's gaze then fell upon Zemira and a smile formed "Hey! We have got to stop hanging out in times of duress!" he called out, limboing under the arm of a Drone that attempted to catch him off-guard. With his back still arched inward, the Jedi aimed his lightsaber upward and promptly severed its arm before rising to his full height and plunging his lightsaber into its chest.
Things weren't looking too hot right now, he could sense the morale drop within the Force. Like a low charge. Cas would continue to fight for the time needed for the Xi Charrians however, no matter what.
Jax approached the briefing room where he gave Crosten a nod. "Yeah," Jax said. "Based on the reports we've received, it's not looking good but there are few hold outs that need our help." He was grateful that Crosten was here, his ship can not only tank hits but also provided tremendous cover for the civilians. Commodore Liedran was already at attention as well as the others Jax had called for. The Jedi inserted a small chip into the holoprojector displaying the city under heavy fire with multiple Anti Air turrets firing on incoming fighters who dared to fly within its facility.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Jax said flexing his prosthetic arm. I'll be blunt, this isn't going to be a battle. The Silvers lost and the Bryn is at the their doorstep with Kayshykk ripe for the taking." he paused staring at the holoprojector his prosthetic arm gripping the edges as he saw multiple civilians being blown to bits by a proton torpedo. "What we're here to do is to stop bleeding and get as many people off that planet as we can."
Pressing a button Jax displayed the defenses many of which were AA Turrets and a large dome which protected the city from orbital bombardment. "What you see here is the entire armament of the city," Jax explained. "As soon as Commodore Kathause left Coruscant, I've attempted to make contact with any survivors. After hours of trying I've talked to one: An Duros Engineer named Sim Vug. He not only gave me the information we needed about the armaments but also the number of the locals still trapped within the city."
Jax pressed another button this time showing the many crafts needed to escape.
"These here are the transport crafts that needed to be protected," Jax said. "Me, Crosten and Commodore Kathause will be responsible for protecting making sure that they get to Lightspeed safely. In the meantime Aayala Shan and Grandmaster Dragovalor will lead a group of Shocktroopers if that is okay with you Commodore."
The Jedi glanced at Liedran hoping that she'll accept. "We need as many shock troopers as humanly possible on the ground. My Droid predicts that the Bryn will be hitting the city hard attempting to the disable the dome and the turrets. Whatever troopers you've got I implore you to place them under Knight Shan and Grandmaster Dragovalor's command as they lead the assaults."
The Jax placed his hands on behind his back. "You'll be leaving through transports," he said to Aayala and Josh. "The fighting will be thick in the air but Crosten and I along with the 8th Squadron will be be giving fire. Once you touch the surface make way for the Inferno Turret."
Jax displayed the Inferno Turret. "Of all the turrets this is the only one that's giving their starfighters hell," he said. "It'll be tough for the Bryn to land troops. Fight through the city make sure the civilians get to their transports safely and also make sure that Inferno Turret stays active."
Turning to Crosten Jax gave a curt nod. "Crosten," he said. "You me and the 8th Squadron will be keeping the fighters at bay. We need those skies clear as the transports fly away. Commodore I would suggest staying within the atmosphere to prevent any of those bastards who get past us and attack the transports. Now is everyone clear?"
Jax then clapped his hands. "Then let's do this people," he said. "May the force be with us all."
She had never really been one for armor, but today might fit the bill. She wore a Cortosis mesh bodysuit under her Covert Jedi Robes; the armor was initially insane to move in, but after about half an hour walking literal laps around The Pegasus, she started to feel it hug her form, surprisingly so, at that. These robes were black, with strips of white that seemed to flawlessly contrast her still ashy hair which was tied haphazardly just at the back of her head. It was clear that the usually very well kept woman had been rushing. Hell she felt like she had been rushing for the last few months straight.
Hearing the announcement that they would be dropping out of hyperspace, she didn't break stride, continuing that lap until she found herself in the briefing room aboard the ship. Aayla was laser focused as Jax Thio
spoke the situation in full, and discussed how he wanted to proceed. Where a nod was necessary, she would offer one to show she understood what was being said. Looking at the turret as it displayed, she could only smirk. If it was giving the Bryn'Adul hell, then she'd give her life to make sure it kept standing.
Whatever killed those bugs.
Hearing him say that the Force would be with them all was a comfort... A small one, but a comfort none the less. With that, she pulled her cloak about herself and turned away, having his words suddenly hit her in retrospect. Did he say Knight? She was positive he did, she almost didn't notice it, but had no reason to correct him this far after the fact.
Aayla headed to the bays, helping the troops load the medical gear onto the shuttles that would surely be needed. Even though these beasts weren't known for taking prisoners, or leaving wounded. She had heard true horror stories of the Bryn, and in a way she wished that the actions they took today would inflict some of that same horror on them.
Once everything seemed ready to go, Aayla had jumped up on one of the shuttles, eyes scanning for the Grandmaster. She had never really had time to be around him, but knew he was the Grandmaster. That much was a comfort, as it opened her up to be more experimental in the field. Not too much that it would drag him down, but enough so that she could see what her hard work was for.
Frankly, she wanted to kick the crap out of the Bryn'Adul, and had wanted too for months...