Junction Landfall | The Bryn'adûl and Silver Jedi Concord Junction of Charros IV & Nar Kaaga

[Tathra Khaeus]

LANDFALL​

Armour | Axe | Sword | Gauntlet
Allies: Sethrak | Quoron Ver'dum | Galak | Primarch Drek'ma | Osam | Sylok'Vanari | Ostak Cl'mana | Krarolk T'manu |
Engaging: Cadere | Zemira |
Objective: Extinction

The sword slid onto his back, gauntleted hand pushing the Jedi's body from the Axe's blade. The Juggernauts moved in at his side, the Concord's lines shattered by the loss of their Jedi Generals. He switched to a two handed grasp, red energies emanating in circling segments. The concord forces ahead were perched on unearthed rubble, the ground rose in uneven segments as the Guardians below abused the terrain, hollowing the ground beneath them. He used the Axe's pull function, grasping those on the hill with the red kinetic energy of the Axe. The space between them shortening, with a magnetic pull the soldiers were yanked from their advantageous position down into the ranks of the approaching Juggernauts, torn apart by the massive warriors.

Every advantage they had, the Bryn'adûl would turn it against them. Upheaval broke the terrain up into pockets of fighting, smaller skirmishes. The Rhivaks watched from above, diving down to maul the Xi-Charrians, pinning them under their weight and crushing them with their pronged horns. He cleaved down with his Axe, splitting the man from collarbone to the small of his back; slopping over on his head as the blaster fell at his side. Another Jedi struck at his back, scorching hot against the individual plates that made up the back of his armour. Growling he turned on his heel as the Jedi stepped forward, pivoting to his side and slashing at his ankle.

The Titan side-stepped, turning the armour of his knee out into the path of the blade. A cautionary measure as the Axe shifted to block it, moving swiftly as if weightless in his grasp. The battling hues of red and blue lit up the faces of both as Tathra struck with his right, fingers tight against each other in a knife hand as he thrust into the stomach of the Knight. The eyes of the Jedi widened as Tathra pulled his hand back, fingers soaked in blood as the Jedi's body curled in on itself. He looked down, a part of himself no longer there with a gaping hole replacing half of his abdomen; everything inside crushed into pulpy meat as his knees gave out.

He was still breathing, but he was already dead.

 

[Sylok'Vanari]

​

Post # 2
Location: Charros IV, City Streets
Objective: Extinction
Enemies: TBD
Allies: The Bryn'adûl, Ashaka Ik'straktors, Ashaka Battlemasters (Hybrids)
Tags: TBD

The crushing vibration pulsed outward like a torrent of diseased anger. Sylok's landing forming a crater in the thick concrete beneath him. While he was smaller than most Aeravalin, he was still a Draelvasier and the hulking size of his physique finally towered over the remaining Jedi in the streets. The constant swirl of frustration rang in the back of his mind, the loss of the general weighing heavier on him as he roared. The once docile threads of the force turned to a dark black, tainted by Sylok's urge to kill. He'd start with the first victim behind the stacked defenses of metallic shields, a last ditch effort by those left behind for the slaughter. Screeches filled the streets in seconds as his creations began to feed on the helpless innocents abound. The Ik'straktors filled their sacks, ready to bombard the defenses with ease. A putrid ghastly explosion happening directly on contact with the metal. A sizzling sound tore through the defenses, acidic blood splattering every which way as the bombardment continued.

Sylok watched, inching closer and closer, until...the shields gave. With ease Sylok gripped at the force, the swirling black tendrils funneling through his veins like an icy refreshment. A sudden whisk of his hand and the ground awakened, splinters of the earth erupting upward violently. Sylok's mind envisioned sharp stilettos, as the earth transformed into his own weapon. The last hollering scream from the Jedi were cut off, jagged points of raw earth impaling him as they rose. The body of the once great ideologist went stiff, before his back arched in a torturous display of death. The limp retraction of the Jedi's last breath was taken from him as the rock protruded through his chest cavity, blood trickling down its spire.

Sylok grinned, his maw grinding tooth against tooth before locking into place. There was no justice in a swift death, the general had drowned...it was only fitting that they would too. The elements corrected themselves as a swelling flood of salty water reached Sylok. The element Prime, leaving him; for now. He screamed, thirsty for the next victim.

"All of them!" Sylok paused, his eyes turning to a bright humming hue in the distance. "Even You!" Sylok pointed, his massive finger stretching outward in the direction of a Jedi woman. He could feel the powerful abundance of her gift, but his anger ignored it. His mind made note of it. His heart sped up, a piece of the general fueling his actions even further.

A second vibrant color ignited next to the woman, a second Jedi joining the fray. Another flash of the cascading city of Sarka invaded Sylok's mind. His arm moved forward, the force spinning into him like a whirlpool of endless depths.

The grin turned to smile.

​

 

[Aayla Shan]

How long had this been going on anyway? The killing became somewhat addictive at this point. In reality as much as she wanted to stick to her guns, and the Jedi Code; this enemy was beyond her. She had to loosen up a bit. In the thick of it, she felt this the most. As such, they pushed forward, even towards the towering Draelvasier Sylok'Vanari . She noted him, but didn't have time to focus as his hordes bore down. Though she continued to lose the men at her flank, so did he. Perhaps the truth was it was just affecting her more. That beast didn't seem to care how much blood was shed, or whose.

Aayla narrowly avoided a crude axe swung at her head, literally hearing the sound of her hair being sliced as she stepped back. Blaster fire sounded, and blue bolts ripped through the would-be assailant, she turned to another enemy when something lashed her face.

She took the hit well enough, but felt the telltale sting of a series of cuts across her features. Then the warmth of blood trickling down her face. The first major wound she had taken during the battle, and yet she didn't hesitate. Pursing her now blood-soaked lips and thrusting the saber into the other, pushing herself even and making sure it ran the mindless husk through. With the momentum of them both hitting the ground, she saw her own life force freely splatter on the ground, letting out a groan and returning to her feet with a few stumbling steps.

It was then she saw it, he pointed at her, calling her out specifically; and her response was in kind, spitting what blood pooled on her lips in his general direction.

"Then come get your throat cut!!" she threatened the taller, and quite frankly intimidating opponent in turn. Albeit, her fighting effectiveness was lessened with blood now freely dribbling into her left eye, she did what she could; feeling the energy sapping from her a bit.

Still, she had just told the men to push forward if they weren't dead. They followed her, some even pressed forward laying down a hellish blaze against the horde. She wasn't dead, and as such, she pressed onwards herself. In the back of her mind, without backup, she knew where this was going; but in a way? In a way, she was content with it.

Aayla fought her hardest, her dodges, or even the willingness too turned into outright blocks, and melee strikes to compensate for her loss in agility. They were much closer now, and as what seemed to be a lull in the fighting occurred, she had her moment.

There was nothing between the two but space, and opportunity now. She looked up at him, honestly, she felt fear in her heart; but it was outclassed by the pure determination to kill the other. Her heart was beating hard, blood and adrenaline suddenly making her forget she was tired in the first place...

She didn't approach, but raised her saber to defend herself, eyes locked onto the soulless pits of the other.

"I wont kill myself Monster!"

 

[Ver'kad Inuk]

Objective: Exterminate
Friends: Bryn'Bois
Enemies: Liedran Kathause |
Fleet Composition: Three 2000m Carriers | Two 3518m Butcherer vessels | The Divine Brutality | Two Ra'mak squadrons

There was a cheer of enthusiasm across the bridge, the Ungulloi engineers chirping at the back as their gunplay paid off. Ver'kad looked forward to the acquisition of ionic and sonic tools, but finding a way to translate the machinations of the steam and hydraulics that the Ungulloi relied on to their technology. They had been in the middle of construction of prototypes when they were called to the planet. The Divine Brutality had taken its fair share of hits from the Emerald Undertow during the battle over Sarka, repairs where necessary. But they could deal with the fledgling fleet.

The fleetmasters eyes narrowed as he looked about the observation shields, the Alliance navy had fallen into retreat with the exception of their missile batteries. The Vaydralen made for excellent Artificers, their ability to adapt to the space combat was astounding. Perhaps they were even better suited to the task than the Baedurin. It made him grin, watching the frustration of his peers at the military excellence of the Vaydralen.

"They'll be back. Tear that crippled corvette in half."

The Ra'maks focused fire on the corvette, slowly churning it into slag until it exploded. Silence filled the vacuum as it always did.

"Regroup with the rest of the fleet. We should be ready for any reinforcements."

 

[Hrajlmak'Natok]

Objective: One
Post: 2
Gear: Armour / Staff in Sig
Allies: Bryn'adul
Enemies: TBD
Forces:

Spoiler

• Savages
• Drones
• Rhivaks
• Brumaks
• Juggernauts
• Nimscall Terraformers
• Warlocks
• Warlock Field-Masters

[/spoiler]

_________________________________________________________________

Ceasing shelling. Moving, moving, moving. The update from Xerx'ma darted across Hrajlmak's thoughts. The shelling from across the city ground to a halt. And with that, Hrajlmak ordered the minds of his own Brumaks to stop their work. When the final orb was thrown, silence returned again. Broken by the collective movements of thousands into a new formation. Rhivaks moved into line formation, five deep. On the wings of this, Juggernauts. Behind this arrangement followed a mixed block of Drones and Savages. A precarious mix as the Savages got along with nobody, the beasts they were. But as long as the Warlock within their formation held the mental reigns, there would be no turmoil. Now, they marched on the city.

The nearer they drew, the quieter the air became. Hrajlmak's eyes scanned the ruins. The artillery had done their job, and more. As they crossed the indeterminate border of the city, red mist quickly enveloping them, it looked as though the 10th Regiment had swept full fury through the streets. Hrajlmak's breathing hitched for a moment as his lungs adjusted to the familiar Draemidus air. The Juggernauts on the wing broke off to clear what buildings still stood. One after the other, they confirmed security. Some dragging lifeless native bodies from their resting places out into the silent streets. Hrajlmak nodded in self-agreement. Xerx'ma was right.

And yet he couldn't shake it. His eyes squinted and he peered into alleys and dark corners as the army marched further toward a towering structure. He probed Xerx'ma for information, but the Warlock reported nothing but silence on his end. Somewhere, rubble collapsed. The noise broke the air, and was immediately absorbed into deafening silence again. Stop, stop, stop. Hrajlmak ordered a full halt. Muscles in his head shifted, tuning his ears to the environment.

Nothing. Then something. Breathing. Labored breathing like a human with a spiker round in its lungs. Adrenaline seeped into his blood. He wandered the streets trying to triangulate the source. He passed corpses frozen in their moment of asphyxiation, but none drew breath. The sound neared, tension in his body growing more intense. He rounded a corner, a spark of flame ready in his free hand. He found the source, and his body was awash in relief. A Nimscall pod sat half buried in the duracrete. Thick red smoke gushed from the top with every exhale. Hrajlmak grinned in amusement and began to turn around.

A horrible groan came gurgling from a pile of Xi-Charrian carcasses. Hrajlmak's head spun and stared at the heap, cortisol in his bloodstream going wild. The mound of bodies shifted, the topmost sliding lifelessly to the floor. From within, the groan found its source. What looked nearer to a corpse than a living being pulled itself from the heap. Its figure was hunched over and shaking violently. It was a native no doubt, but its eyes looked ready to burst from its head. Its groans grew into agonising screams. Its breathing was heavy and sounded like grinding glass, the screams came between them. Hrajlmak took a tentative step back. The figure's head strained against the weakness of its failing body as it looked up from the ground to meet Hrajlmak's gaze. Again, those screams. Its torso shook uncontrollably every time its diaphragm contracted to push them out. The native lurched forward. Every step a monumental task. Hrajlmak stood motionless, but his grip around his staff tightened. It struggled to a stop, then shrieked a piercing scream, stumbling forward with such pace it seemed it would fall over. It fell into Hrajlmak's arms, supported by nothing but the Warlock. Face to face Hrajlmak could see its eyes saw nothing. They cried blood, its mouth, when it opened to pull in a broken breath, was filled with blood and chewed gums. As if in its efforts to breathe the air it had grinded away at its own maw. It pulled in a breath, convulsed in a violent seizure, and fell still. Hrajlmak stared for a moment at the body, studying its features. He had never seen such a response to the Nimscall's air. He dropped the cadaver to the floor, stood, and pondered.

 

[Sethrak]

Post: 1
Tags: None. Open to engagement
Location: Away from the main battle

The Warlock Sethrak walked toward the town, the sounds of the main battle distant but distinguishable. With him were about 50 Drael of all kinds, be it Baedurin, Srael, or Aerevalin. They were tasked with wiping out a smaller area defended by a militia of about 100 troops. It was a simple task, one Drael was easily worth 2 of any other race. That being said, the enemy had defensive positions as they awaited evacuation from the planet. They would never see their evacuation. The last thing in their eyes would be the shadow of a Drael standing over them.

The plan was to surround the town and converge on it, but it'd mean Sethrak's forces would be spread out, which isn't exactly ideal when outnumbered. If he had just one artillery piece, he'd simply bombard the place for hours before assaulting it. But he didn't have that luxury, even though he was a warlord, he had commissioned too much recently...from recruits to better weaponry, to two Rhivaks he had used recently. He couldd have asked for more, but he did not expect to receive anything, and even if he did, he didn't want to ask for help if he didn't truly need it. Other warlords may need help more than he.

The Warlock felt powerful...he had commanded more than this before, but something about advancing toward a small town, with a legion of troops behind him...it felt good. He knew he would have victory. There was no threat from this militia yet the adrenaline pumped through his veins. There was no anxiety about the attack, only anticipation. He liked it, he craved it. That's why as he walked, a sinister grin was on his face.

 

[Jax Thio]

Location: Jax's X-Wing, Charros IV
Ally: BB-12
Equipment: REC-EVA/01 Armoured Flight Suit,Jax's Prosthetic Arm, Jax's Second Lightsaber, Promise Ring to Jairdain
Tag: Liedran Kathause , Crosten Feyn , Aayla Shan , Josh Dragovalor , Primarch Drek'ma (Enemy)


It turned out that Jax's Attack Pattern Delta formation worked to great effect, the constant barrage of blaster fire by the combined squadrons easily bought down the War Beast. Jax could hear the beast's pained cry while it fell to the city below crushing any Bryn that were advancing onto the city. <Multikill!> BB-12 beeped in triumph while Jax navigated through small explosions in the sky, these starfighters were unlike anything Jax has seen before. Instead of mechanical machines these starfighters were large creatures capable of destroying entire factions. It's a little wonder why the Silvers were losing these things were relentless.

"Going around for another pass!" Jax said aiming for another Brumak. "Same formation!"

It went like this for about 20 minutes with three of them being destroy, Jax and the Squadrons then turned their attention to the Brute Gunboats who were laying waste to any troops on the ground. "Bring them down!" Jax launching missiles onto one of the Gunboats blasting it to bits. The rest of the Squadron's followed suite clearing the area and taking off pressure from the ground team. The first two transports were away and Jax rallied the pilots to engage the incoming Phedrak fighters that were about to blast the transports.

Thankfully the wave of Bryn ships did moderate damage to the Transports but it wasn't enough to destroy them as they went into space jumping to Lightspeed. <Jax!> BB-12 beeped. <Message from Commodore Kathause! She's taking a beating and is pulling back for now! So much for my crush on her!>

"Damn!" Jax muttered and immediately Aayla radioed Jax stating that there were multiple trebuchets assaulting the city. "Crosten!" Jax said. "Move in and take them out! You're the only one with firepower that destroy those things!"

The battle was quickly becoming grim no Liedran and the ground was already overwhelmed, it continued to rage with Jax and Squadron starting to get cut down barely trying to defend the Transports. He was able to get at least four more out of the city but the Bryn were merciless each time they've destroyed a squadron, 10 more popped in its place. If it weren't for their training then Jax and others would've been wiped out in the first 2 minutes. Aalya tapped in once again stating she was going to do a last stand.

"Wait Aayla!" Jax yelled but she cut off, the Jedi could hardly breathe at this moment watching more X-Wings being downed everything was a blur until BB-12 yelled at him. <Come on Thio!> he whirred. <No time feeling sorry for yourself! We gotta transport on the way! Bombers at eight o clock!>

"Chit!" Jax said steering his X-Wing towards the two Transport. "Keep on those Bombers!"

 

[Sylok'Vanari]

​

Post # 3
Location: Charros IV, City Streets
Objective: Extinction
Enemies: Silver Jedi Concord | Aayla Shan
Allies: The Bryn'adûl, Ashaka Ik'straktors, Ashaka Battlemasters (Hybrids)
Tags: Tathra Khaeus

Sylok took a breath, the blazing firepower from the shock troopers forced him to take a few shots to the carapace. Thankfully, the verikast armor that hung on his shoulders provided enough protection, at least for now. The cacophony of mixed warfare surrounded him now. It reminded him of how quickly war could turn to hell. The fusion of Ik'straktor screeches and cries of pain tore through the flooded spaces between him and the female Jedi. While brief, a small separation of both forces splintered, parting to create a perfect line straight at the end of one another.

How convenient? Sylok thought. His mind searching for a meaning in the evident forces beyond his control. Was it the general telling him to avenge her? Was this always meant to be?

The Aeravalin locked eyes with the defensive Jedi. Grey stared back into another storm of grey, each piercing through the most unlikely pathway that war could have ever gifted either of them. It had to be the general...but nothing in war was ever meant to be. That much he knew was true. It was highly unlikely that the general had done something beyond the grave, but it fueled him. The gears of his inner intellect told fought with the idea, until the words of the young woman gripped him.

"Then come get your throat cut!!"

Sylok sneered, another empty threat. If only the Jedi understood what the Draelvasier were. They would never know, all due to the fact of their blindingly false societies and complacent teachings. At least to be a Drael was to adapt, to survive...to remain strong. Sylok couldn't stand their self righteous mentality, not that he didn't fall under the same facet. There was difference...his species was forced to do this, all of it. To continue, to live another day; all because they were different then the rest of the galaxy. Unfortunately, Sylok knew things weren't as simple as that. There was always something deeper, right on the surface. Hidden beneath all the causes and moving parts, but he cared less for that now. He was tired, tired of being the boogeyman. He wasn't the blight...they were.

"I wont kill myself Monster!"

Sylok's stare turned sinister. The poisonous hate in the force manipulated the element of water that had been built up in the short time frame he'd been observing the Jedi. Small forms of bubbles lifted, his arms spread apart, palms turned upward as they slowly lifted from his hands. The final bubble rose to his eye level magnifying the threat in front of him. It was now or never, her saber raised and in that split second, Vedkar locked into a fight with the other Jedi to her side. This was it, the moment.

The moment Aayla Shan would be swept away by a torrent of rushing waters, left suffocating, struggling to maintain life. Sylok pictured it all playing out beautifully. Then he stepped forward, his arms ripping outward with a wicked fury. The bubbles sprung forward, Sylok rushed toward her in tow. His hand gripped tightly around the leather bound hilt of his father's Barad Kukri. Barricas Oil dripped from the blade, a natural defense against the vibrant blue that remained stiff in front of the fragile Jedi. In mere seconds the two would clash, but the bubbles began to grow in size, their translucent shimmer beginning to fill with water. In the strangest fashion, one particular bubble remained empty, speeding up ahead of Sylok. A sinister crinkle formed upon the Aeravalin's face.

"Then it would be my pleasure to steal your last breath, Jedi!!!" Sylok Savagely screamed, his voice cracking into a somber tone.

​

 

[Aayla Shan]

Aayla had never actually engaged an Elementalist in battle, but knew the basics of what they were capable of. If she had read her holocrons correct, he could create, and manipulate the elements at will. Which meant the very ground she stood on betrayed her. She wasn't going to swing her saber wildly and win this fight...

Though, she was something of a bookworm, and could guess she still held a slight advantage over him. The elements couldn't trump the Force, whereas the Force could manipulate the elements. That was her initial thinking on it. Mentally she was kicking herself for not being prepared for such a thing, but who could expect to fight someone like that?

Also, she had made a mistake. She was in her head once that initial orb moved, reacting a step late, she decided to swing her saber at the bubble, in an attempt to cut it. It crackled against it, and she was hit hard enough to be sent back, suddenly rolling backwards like a hamster in a wheel. Instinctively she deactivated her saber, as to not skewer herself with the sudden loss of her balance, and made an attempt to balance herself. That, was impossible. The surface of the interior of the bubble was, she could've guessed it water. Her hands wiped against the surface to no avail, but she quickly let the momentum carry her, groaning as she kept flopping at the edge, and pushing the ball along.

She had no control over her stance, but she could position her weight away from him. She didn't need the Force, or to necessarily see him to know he was coming. Its was what she would've done in his stead. Although she did catch snippets of his encroaching figure during the tumble. It was then that the ball was crashed by another, water flooding into the hollow one she was trapped in, she flinched at the sudden liquid filling it, but noted it was nothing but that; water, probably even safe to drink though she wouldn't try.

It did help however, in getting the now dribbling blood out of her eye, and clearing her face mostly of the dirt and grime that had accumulated through the fight. In any case, she realized very quickly he intended to drown her. She had a slight gap between the one water filled bubble hitting her own empty one, and the approach of the other, and within that time, she used the now quarter filled bubble to maintain a level position within it. Eyes snapping to the other, she focused on it within the Force, thinking outside the box, she would hyper-expand it from its core, hoping to cause it to explode, or at least give her a few more moments to think about how to get out of the current one, from what she could tell, she had gotten her opening, and stood to her feet as he approached, reactivating her saber and using both hands to thrust it directly at the ground beneath her (would be) feet.

As he approached she watched him, letting the saber fizzle and pop as it reacted to not only the water, but super heated the ground under her. A few beats would pass, and there was a satisfying splatter as the bubble itself lost its stability, as soon as that happened, she fell with her legs split, saber sputtering and deactivating as it wasn't equipped to be handled in water, or at least so much at once. It was a miracle it hadn't shorted as soon as she submerged it.

She tried to click it on again, but there was a simple snap. No ignition.

That wasn't good. Hell she didn't even hear his quip about taking her last breath, she was entirely focused on getting out of his trap... She backpeddaled away from him, repeatedly clicking at the sabers igniter until finally, one of those snaps was followed by a sizzling hiss. The water having burned out of the emitter lens, she was back in business, and didn't shy away from him.

Instead, she jumped at him, a Force assisted leap that saw her from one point of the battlefield to the next in an instant, She would slash at him from mid-air, passing him on his right, She would prefer to use Ataru against a taller opponent, since he was bigger, she just had to keep moving. And avoid his line of sight, and most likely the barrage of Elemental abilities he could summon.

Had he blocked her aerial strike, she would maneuver, almost effortlessly in mid-air and strike again from another position. Not stopping, and capable (and willing) of kicking off of the Drael's very own form to assist in keeping up this attack pattern. Her intention was to not hit the ground unless she had too, and if so, doing it in a place that wasn't in his front-facing field of vision whatsoever.

The main problem with this however, was that for an already tiring young Jedi, she wasn't going to be able to keep this up forever. Hopefully he died before then, or perhaps even a more experienced Jedi would join the fray.

Sylok'Vanari Jax Thio

 

[Ostak Cl'mana]

POST: II
OBJECTIVE: Defense Removal
ALLIES: Byrn | Primarch Drek'ma (in relative proximity) | Open to interaction
ENEMIES: SJC | Open to engaging up to 3 PC opponents
EQUIPMENT: Ceremonial heat-resistant leather Shaman robes
MOUNT: Urasik Wyvern (2x)

As the two Wyverns rose up into the sky once more, Ostak eagerly watched the battle below.
​

Fires of many sizes filled the city, evidence of the advance of the Draelvasier armies and the buckling of the weakened defenders. It would not be long before Charros IV was claimed for the Crusade and added to the vast conquests. The Shaman-Overseer was eager to leap into the fight while it was still raging, to feel the thrill of adrenaline and pride every time he spilled blood. Yet he reminded himself that he still had to tend to the Urasik, fine and noble beasts that whose stealth might be compromised in open combat. So with a great deal of begrudging impatience, Ostak continued to seek a unit of Shamen to take care of his beasts.

Minutes later, Ostak happened upon the Primarch himself.

The Shaman-Overseer instantly recognized the aura of power surrounding the Primarch and the rumbling of the great worms he commanded, and pulled on the reins of his Urasik to have it hover midair. Then they both dove, aiming for a patch of recently burnt parkland about twenty meters away. With powerful wingbeats that blew bits of debris meters away, the Wyverns perched on the charred ground, and their rider promptly leapt off.

As he approached the Primarch, Ostak realized that asking him and his subordinates to handle the Wyverns while the Guardians burrowed nearby would be a logistical stretch. As the Shaman-Overseer had seen on Sarka, the Primarch too had notable physical and mental limits, and a reckless habit of ignoring them. It was partially justified by the pure enormity of his spiritual mastery, yet still a trait that could foreshadow future danger.

"Primarch, would you like a better view of the battle?" exclaimed Ostak, several meters to his right. "My Urasik and I can be of assistance."

 

[Crosten Feyn]

Objective 3: Is it a bird? Is it a plane?
Allies: Jax Thio Josh Dragovalor
Enemies: Galak Krarolk T'manu

---

“Roger that; gonna reposition for an attack run.” Crosten replied into the comms tersely.

“I got multiple on my tail; gonna need some help here to shake them off.” Spoke next, switching from the channel of communication he had with Jax to that of his surrounding allied ships. Laser and blaster fire flew through the air around his position, and a deft tilt and yaw of his ship dodged a barrage of enemy fire sent his way. He made another deft turn, taking a winding path in continued attempts to shake himself free of the added attention. He had hoped one of the nearby ships would have responded, but a look at the display revealed the likely reason they hadn’t; there simply weren’t that many allies remaining, and the were swarming with enemies.

Dank farrik. Well, this wasn’t going to be as simple as he had made it sound.

“Uh, Jax? Met a couple new friends I just can’t get away from here. I don’t-” He began his reply before halting his speech mid-sentence. Eyes were locked on the display, a chaotic series of lights and ever-changing positions. Within the constantly shifting lights however, he saw an opportunity. A sharp banking turn would orient his ship towards the targets, and directly towards several ships. They’d get there in time to intercept him; but he could shift his ship into high acceleration. It sure wasn’t good for the ship; but anything ‘good’ about the situation had been thrown clear out the window a long time ago. ‘Survivable’ had become the new theme of the day.

“I trust this target’s important, I’m pulling all the stops here” He spoke frantically as he veered the ship, his hand hovering over the overdrive switch until the proper moment. The sudden burst of speed slammed Crosten back in his seat as the ship shot forward, soaring through a flashing field of enemy fire. All flew harmlessly around his ship, save for one that blasted the base of his left wing, sending the ship into a tumble he worked desperately to correct.

Slamming the control stick in the other direction, he regained control of the ship while enemy fire continued to tear up the skies behind him with the trebuchets rising over the horizon in front of him. This run wasn’t going anywhere nearly as good as the last one, but he doubted he’d get a second chance at it. Waiting until the last minute to slow down, he tilted his ship skyward as he deployed the second bomb, flinging it forward in an arcing trajectory towards the enemy battery. Hopefully it would find it’s mark, though he had to be honest with himself; it would be a lucky shot to make. It was simply the best he could do under the worsening conditions.

“Sent one their way, but it’s not a good hit.” he warned out on the comms, well before his shot even landed. He saw the flash and explosion though a glance out the window; the shot had indeed landed wide, blasting a crater into the ground to the battery’s front. The shot took out nothing, and couldn’t do much more than slow down their advance to go around the new obstacle the crater provided.

Whether or not enough time had been granted to help would remain to be seen. Both his bomb tubes were empty, and he’d need to reload. He’d also need to get well away from the enemy ships that remained, opting to continue in a skyward trajectory to do just that. Once there was enough distance he left the controls for a brief moment to load the launchers with another payload while his damaged ship continued it’s skyward climb.

 

[Galak]

Objective: Defence Removal
Enemies: Jax Thio | Crosten Feyn |
Equipment: Armour | Triad | Bryn Shot | Mace 2x |

"RAAAAAAGHGHGH!" Galak shouldered charged a trooper firing his slugthrower at him, using the massive pauldron to block his face from the fire, embers scorching off in every direction as he slammed into the man. The weapon fell from his grasp, chest crushed as he gasped for breath. Thrust his wrist blades into the man's chest, ripping them out as gallons of blood squeezed out like projectile vomit from his orifices.

"Disgusting, humans. Die for the Bryn'adûl!" Galak called out, pushing one of his Juggernauts forward to engage in the combat. He switched to his Bryn Shot, opening fire as a troop transport arrived to retrieve their wounded.

With a knife hand gesture, he pointed to two of his Heavies; nodding to the transport as the two Warriors followed him. He lead them in, screaming as he blasted away the troops in their path to reach it. They'd have no survivors, not on his watch. Nothing but bones and dust left for the Concord swine if he were to have his way. The transport had landed in a crater up ahead, where they had likely taken their wounded for the sake of cover and temporary patch ups. The Ashaka simply stood behind the statuesque Juggernauts. Simple, really.

A turret lay in their path, forcing them to cover as its massive thundering blaster bolts tore up the ground around their feet, Galak dashing from side to side before dropping into one of their overtaken trenches. His eyes immediately searched left to right, observing the buildings on either side. No doubt the winged Akhenaton would've been able to assist them in this scenario. He looked forward to seeing more of the Vaydralen and Akhenation in action, they would add another layer of versatility to their tactics that was sorely needed.

"Left and right! I will draw in the dragons fire!"

Galak leapt from the trench as the two Heavies moved to adjacent flanking positions. His compact shield was small but sturdy, and hopefully quite enough to protect him. He used the Bryn Shot as an extra buffer, placing his right arm behind his left as he slowly marched forward, the blaster turret pushing him back three steps for every two he took, the ground slowly turning into muddy soup at his feet as the compact shield heated.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: Defence Removal
Enemies: Josh Dragovalor | Jax Thio | Aayla Shan | Zemira | Cadere
Allies: Galak | Krarolk T'manu | Sethrak
Armaments: Staff & Cuirass

The earth cried as the cavern deepened, thousands of tons of metric weight shifting like slabs of salt rock grinding against one and other, crashing down into stone on either side. The Primarch raised both arms into the air, the pearl white orb of his staff glowing with blinding intensity. Drek'ma closed his own eyes, focusing solely on the landscape as the twin Guardians operated separately from one and other. The ground was ready to split, when the Overseer arrived. He dimmed the light of the orb as he approached, bowing his head slightly to Ostak as he drew close.

Unconsciously his eyes shifted to the Wyvern steads at his side. They vaguely reminded him of the Dreddikkast, but far smaller in scale and thickness of hide, curiously he reached out to feel their minds, intelligent creatures. Impressive. Upon the end of the Overseers sentence his eyes flicked back to Ostak, attention retuning to his fellow Shaman.

"I see no reason to enjoy the view from down here. I will ride with you, Overseer." The Primarch followed Ostak onto the adjacent Wyvern, and as he settled into the back of the saddle, he closed his fist.

All across the Concord side of the battlefield, a collective snap shuddering from deep beneath the earth a crack shattered through the space between the Xi Charrian evacuation ships and their defences. A widening, cavern.

The chances of escape would slowly grow to immeasurable.

 

[Liedran Kathause]

{Galactic Alliance Expeditionary Fleet 1 - Squadron 3 -- State of Disrepair}
{Commodore Kathause in Command -- Aboard ANV Pegasus - C.I.C}
{Silver Jedi Concord Allies}
{Several light years from Charros IV - Objective III}​

Sparks popped out all around her, aftereffects of conduits overloading from the sheer strain of it all. The bridge was quiet, all except for the occasional sniffle, and rough coughing as smoke leaked from the walls. They had been luckier than the others. If the sensors were anything to trust, The bow and a sizeable surrounding area had been fully perforated by the beams, instantly disintegrating anyone unlucky enough to be within the kill-zone. Bulkheads struggled to stay closed, fighting as the vacuum outside tried to seep in. Nearer aft, the engines had all vanished, now a scorched caving metal surface that looked ready to fall apart at any moment.

Liedran paced around the display table, head in hand. Serving as their only remaining bits of illumination were the dim emergency lights, supplemented by the screens of the few consoles that could still be effectively operated.

"How long until we can get comms online?" The commodore stopped for a brief few seconds and raised her head.

"A few minutes, ma'am," A voice, plagued with a noticeable tinge of despair.

Liedran made her way over, now joining in to look over the reports, slowly putting her hand on the young ensign's shoulder, "I'm not letting this happen again," She paused for a moment, trying to convince herself that she could make due on the promise, "We're going to be fine. Okay?"

The commodore almost choked on those last words, and quickly retreated for the C.I.C's center in a badly-composed walk.

It was torture, thinking of it all. Helpless, and trapped, she had lost more than a hundred men in a matter of seconds, now abandoning even more. And until the communications systems could be repaired, Liedran had no way to verify that she hadn't lost her entire fleet. Powerless. Vulnerable.

Useless.

By now, what remaining repair teams they had were roaming the ship, searching hull-plating and bulkheads for leaks and shattered connections. Outside the hull, pressure-suited technicians glided about a scorched plane, slowly making their way for the Pegasus' antenna units, and ready to put everything back in working order; if they could, that was.

Lightyears away, the battle continued, even though it had been more of a slaughter by then. Missiles kept ringing out from the Huntress and chasing for the Bryn vessels, even as ordnance storage ran dry. Deep in atmosphere, the Negotiator cruisers were continuing the desperate shuttle of civilians and ground forces between the surface and hangers of the vessels. But the Bryn were growing nearer.

And she was helpless to stop it.

 

[Or'Fol Moric]

Equipment: Herglic utility clothing, Lightclub
Tags: Cadere Osam Zemira

Or'Fol looked to either side as Silver Rangers started firing on the Bryn soldiers. The large Herglic looked around, quickly causing the air around him to swirl as he started to kick up dust. He'd try to blind them if he could. Yes, it would work both ways, but if her was there, he could just use the Force and the Rangers would fire from the back anywhere his saber wasn't. He would quickly move forward, attempting to challenge a Juggernaut as he glared. They wouldn't get by to hurt the Xi Charrians!

He would slash into the Juggernaut with what seemed like no mercy before moving back to the center of the enemy. He couldn't let them get past. Not now with the ships on the ground.

 

[Quoron Ver'dum]

Post: Three
Objective: Extermination
Bryn'Bois: Galak | Sethrak | Hrajlmak'Natok
Intent to Engage: Anyone, if up for it!
Equipment: Glaive | Crippler |

The deployment hatch of the Gunboat opened to overwhelming noise. The full military strengths of either side could be summarised in the sheer weight of the sound each produced. Molten bullets exploded with fury, titanic slabs of rock battled as the Guardians fought the city; the city streets bludgeoned by the steps of the living Siege Towers. Quoron fired with the crippler, half sliding down the ramp with a horde of Drones at his back as the weapon in hand blew apart the troopers and Xi Charrians.

The spread obliterated its left legs, causing it to loose balance. The thing toppled over, right side shaking as it squealed for help. He placed his hooved foot against its torso, blasting apart its face with the Crippler. He kept it quick, simple. No need for real suffering, just a quick death.

The drones at the Vaydralen's side were cut down by heavy blaster fire, he and his brethren ducking between cover and the backs of the towering broad Juggernauts to avoid fire. Towering above them, the Siege Towers released hell on the Concord forces - an immense sight to behold as the Concord fighters dove to bomb in futility at their grand crowns.

Quoron used the strength in his legs, leaping across the divide between their Juggernauts and into the mix of the Concord's defending forces. The Vaydralen took the Glaive to his hands, thrusting forward and cutting down the first, a backward kick to the throat of one behind him as he ducked, swinging low and removing the leg of another as the last caught him in the shoulder with a vibrodagger.

He roared in pain, mandibles stretching out in pained expression as he struck the man upside the face. A Juggernaut pulled the soldier away, crushing his head with the butt of his Bryn Shot

 

[Sylok'Vanari]

​

Post # 4
Location: Charros IV, City Streets
Objective: Extinction
Enemies: Silver Jedi Concord | Aayla Shan
Allies: The Bryn'adûl, Ashaka Ik'straktors, Ashaka Battlemasters (Hybrids)
Tags: Tathra Khaeus

Sylok felt the tension in the force, each eclipsed second formulating into her inevitable death. The abnormal water attack trapped her as intended. Sylok could feel her struggle, but with his emotions taking over he proceeded anyway. Despite the change in the Jedi's efforts to break free. The remaining bubbles morphed into one another at the center. A torrent of liquid tried to pull the Jedi beneath head level, but Sylok felt it in an instant...failure. The bubble popped, a rush of gushing water leaving only a puddle in its stead. His speed slowed, his feet pivoting so his right shoulder swung toward her. Sylok's blade slid out from his waistline and his momentum carried closer to her as she backpedaled.

His mind tried to fight the urge to continue in a blind rage, but even the most intellectual Drael could snap. This was all new to him, the fragile feeling of guilt. Sylok hadn't experienced anything like it and yet, it took the death of a general to awaken an exhausted hate in his heart. The force had created a bond between him and Keldothera . The general's actions allowed him to stand here today, giving him the opportunity to snuff out the life of those that took her from all the Draelvasier that loved her. Despite what the Jedi thought, even monsters were capable of passionate sensitivities. Otherwise, they'd be just like them...denying their emotions. To be a Jedi was to shy away from what made individuals, who they really were. Sylok wouldn't allow such tainted beings to exist. He was done with it, done with them, no; Sylok hated them.

As quickly as the Jedi made her motion to jump, Sylok came to a sliding halt. Dust kicking upward, before his left leg shifted backwards ready for the assault. Another slow channel of the force spoke to him, the element of water still residing in his own reservoir for the remainder of the fight. If only he spent more time conjuring the difficult element, he would have felt more confident using it in succession. He couldn't. Still, the airborne Jedi was a threat and her azure blade hissed as it inched closer to his shoulder. Such a strike could either take his arm or make it inoperable. Sylok had to block it.

So, he did. It was too late to dodge now. The steel blade sifted through the empty space between the lightsaber and his shoulder. The sizzle sparked all the way down the blade, before the two weapons broke free. The tip of the saber finding a small form of contact against the Aeravalin's skin. The surge of pain rippled through to his core. The heat stung, worse than that of a normal burn given his anatomy. Sylok's teeth clenched, it hurt. Regardless, the stormy grey eyes followed his adversary. She had forced him to react again, a twisting fleeting motion sending the blue saber at his back.

Sylok didn't have time to think about the pain, it was difficult enough staying focused with the general fresh in his mind. He spun, his teeth unclenching as a draw of saliva followed. The curved middle of his father's blade viciously rose, in an upward attempt to catch the secondary saber attack. The barricas oil held it's layer, he could smell it. If the blade meet with hers, he would anchor it downward forcing her to the ground. Sylok's mind shifted, his anger still present, but his intellect feeding him more possible outcomes. Emotion and logic suddenly worked together. If the Jedi made the grave mistake of feinting the attack, so would Sylok.

​

 

[Zemira]

Allies: Or'Fol Moric Nimdok Jared Starchaser Liedran Kathause Jax Thio Crosten Feyn Subject 648 Slipknot Cadere
Engaging: Tathra Khaeus
Equipment: LPD-40 IceJet Miniaturized CryoBan Projector, 2x LPD-39 CryoBan Grenades, Lightsaber

Through the Force, she could feel the suffering of her allies around her and while the feeling would eventually subside, the scenes she witnessed would remain with her for a long time. Never before had she seen a battle as gruesome and traumatic as the one she currently participated in. While battles were not foreign to her, there was a certain elegance in a duel with a Sith; a clash of philosophies played out in the art form of a duel. Here, there was no gracefulness, no honour - only destruction and mindless annihilation.

The Rangers were struggling but their Jedi counterparts were not faring any better. All organisation had dissolved into chaotic fighting with each member of the Concord fighting for their own survival. Their chances of saving the Xi Charrians whom they owed protection were slim. The Jedi was thankful she had a familiar Knight among her ranks, though she unsure if such gratitude would last. She trusted Cas and was familiar with the extent of his abilities but she was also familiar with his personality and his tendency to act first and think later.

Zemira ducked under a staff that was being swung towards her while replying to Cas, breathless from the near-constant fighting. Usually, she was more playful and light-hearted but the dire reality of the situation focused her and kept her grounded. "That would be nice." She replied plainly, clearly distracted as she plunged her lightsaber between the shoulders of the drone and staggered backwards to avoid its swinging arms that reached out for her before it fell to the floor.

Ahead of her, a horrific scene was revealed as a knife was plunged into the stomach of one of her allies and the gruesome scene that followed. Instinctively, she threw her hand out to Force push the monster back to protect the nearby Ranger who was otherwise occupied with his own opponent. In doing so, she drew attention to herself and now expected she would be in for the fight of her life. Rather than delay the inevitable, she launched an attack towards her foe, filled with dread.

Knowing that speed and agility were her strength when contending with beings of such size and stature, she used the Force to enhance her speed, hopefully allowing herself to become a more difficult target and thus allowing her greater ability to evade attacks. The Knight sprinted towards the creature and sliced towards his abdomen, ready to attempt to evade any defensive attacks. Given the nature of the battle and the size and ferocity of her opponent, it was one of the few times she had felt genuine fear whilst being in the Order.

She hoped her friend would look out for her.

 

[Osam]

Post 3
Objective: Extermination
Enemy: Or'Fol Moric

Osam observed as a cadre of Rangers burst forth from their positions, providing covering fire and suppressing his men in the process. Of course, they were not focused entirely upon suppression, and a moment or two after they arrived, Osam watched as a pair of his companions were cut down by a fierce array of blaster bolts. Retaliation came in kind, and soon the two forces had engaged in proper combat, with the Draelvasier opening up on them with bursts of their heavy rifles.

A sudden surge of dust and debris into their eyes was enough to cause the firing to become more erratic, with rounds flying in different locations as frantic Sraelvun and Juggernauts attempted to dislodge the sandy soil from their eyes. Osam dug away at it quickly, squinting through the storm for the plasmatic blade of the Jedi who had caused the issue. He watched as the blade lanced through the flesh of a Juggernaut, each blow stumbling and wounding the mighty warrior until he had finally dropped.

While the remainder of his troops focused on the Rangers, Osam himself directed his rifle towards the Jedi and unleashed a short burst of heavy bullets towards him, hoping to cut him down before he had managed to properly deflect their advance.

 

[Cadere]

Allies: Zemira
Engaging: Tathra Khaeus
Equipment: Personal Light Armor | Mantellian Vambraces | FF-CAR1 | Lightsaber | LPD-40 IceJet Miniaturized CryoBan Projector | 2x LPD-39 Coldblast CryoBan Grenade

Zemira's response was... expectedly dry, they were in the middle of a battlefield right now. On the brightside, she ackowledged Cas at least, the Hapan was definitely the type to outright ignore someone if she felt like it. The Kiffar contemplated that she was warming up to him more so. His deep train of thought was always a crutch to him, especially in this instance when his internal thought process distracted Cas from anticipating a surprise hit a drone. Clocking him directly in his jaw, the force of the strike took him completely off his feet and sent him spinning like a cyclone as he sailed a few feet through the air.

Landing on the floor, on his back, Cas skidded across the ground forming a dustcloud that grew larger the further he slid. Dropping his lightsaber after he hit the ground, the Jedi Knight reached out to grab it only to be for the same Drone to pounce on him, clawing and hitting him. Cas protected his face, holding his vambraces over his face which took the brunt of the Drone's strikes. It felt like he found himself in these positions quite frequently, fortunately it meant he knew how to get out of them. Using one arm to protect himself and his face, Cas stretched out his left arm and summoned his lightsaber with the aid of the Force.

His fingers wrapped around the hilt as soon as he felt the warm metal touch his palm. Mid-shriek, Cas shoved the emitter-side of his hilt directly into its mouth before igniting the blade. Its snap-hiss silenced the Drone almost immediately as its body fell limp on the Jedi Knight "Yep. You smell just as bad up close. Ugh." Cas rolled its body off of him before standing up to his feet once more.

Things were getting worse, much worse. They were getting slaughtered by the Bryn, just like Nar Kreeta. This whole operation went from an attempt at evacuation to a straight fight for survival, upon this realisation his thoughts fell to Zemira as he then began to scan the area in search for her. Once his eyes fell on her, his expression dropped into a frown. Of course she had to charge toward the most dangerous looking of all the Bryn'adûl. Well, he knew he liked her for more than just her looks - but now this meant he had to have her back if she was going to survive this day, if both of them were.

His grip around his hilt tightened, and Cas prepared to go and aid the Hapan until the back of his neck hairs stood on end. Turning his head slightly, the corner of his eye caught three more Drones scrambling toward a helpless Ranger. Seemed Zemira'd have to hold her own for now.