Dominion Matter of Legacy | TSE Dominion of Cathar

[Sith Norn]

Sing! Oh wise Norn of the Sith. Sing of the Sith once more weaving the fate of millions. Sing of the slaying of the Mandalorians. Sing of the Imperialism ingrained into the feline folk. Sing of the domination of Cathar.​

It is some eight hundred years after the fateful battle of Yavin, where the Galaxy raged against each other in a civil war, where the Empire faced an unmitigated rebellion from those who sought to undermine the framework of an organization that seeks to unify the people into a cohesive society. Rebellion and wars against unity and security.

Such is it now upon Cathar, home of the feline people of the same name. A war has broken through the framework of the planet, the government collapsing into petty, warring factions led by willful nobles and up jumped generals. In the jungles and the savannas and the uplands, thousands perish under the boots of Chaos, shredded from the threads of fate, all of them too young to know the warmth of a loved one. Too young to enjoy the experiences of the stars.

None die too old.

And so it is for the Cathar, and so it shall be for the rest of eternity in the Galaxy.

It is within the ever-expanding threads of Chaos that the Neo-Mandalorian Crusaders, relics of ages past, have gained control of one of, if not the largest, these factions, having unlocked the old Mandalorian defenses and drive yards built upon Cathar many years ago. And now, they hold prominent dominion over the lands, reviving ancient memories of the Crusades millennia prior, forming a growing desire for a return to form for the Catharian people.

As such, and as only proper, the Sith Empire has been reached by a smaller, traditionalist faction who beg for aid, promising to serve the Sith Emperor should the Mandalorian loyalists be defeated and their chosen leader be placed upon the throne.

Objective I: Metallic Compound - The wastelands of Cathar are home to many beasts and monsters that intimidate and threaten as they see necessary, none more so than this creature of steel and weaponry. Protecting the leadership of the Neo-Mandalorians, the Loyalists find greater victories in the war from the center of this complex. Let them taste defeat. Breach their defenses, locate their generals, and put an end to this farce. Show the Cathar what true power and leadership is like.

Objective II: Production Stalled - The orbit of Cathar serves as the home to the old Mandalorian Drive Yards, giving the Neo-Crusaders access to an array of starships that only deepen their hold on Cathar. Destroy its defenses, board the stations, and halt the production of these ships.

Objective III: A Feast for Heroes - The Neo-Mandalorian Loyalists are hosting a feast celebrating their great heroes and their achievements in the war, deep in the grasslands of the Vast Veldt. Invade the proceedings and show them why the Sith are more worthy of Catharian adoration.

Objective IV: BYOO

 

[Leilani Paaie]

Objective: Intel Gathering, and shopping

Cathar a world that had been taken more than once in the past and changed by the events surrounding them. As usual what brought her to a world that had a history a history to be found in relics scattered and buried among the grasslands, sith, republic and mandalorians. A treasure trove to be found for the buyers that Leilani worked for.

What could she find.

Tonight she was having a meal with family one whose elders happen to survive. There was a story to be told her tonight and she could hardly wait. These people were known to be warriors with strong ties. Tonight he would tell her the story of Sylvar and Crado. She hated to admit to them that she had researched everything she could find to help her with her search.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

​

Cathar Orbit

Out of the gloom emerged a monolithic warship, ten kilometers in length and pulsating with an aura of overwhelming power and authority. The Behemoth II, the flagship of the Sith Emperor, loomed menacingly over the wind-swept world of Cathar. Fighters and boarding craft were launched from the dreadnought's many hangars bays, all of them streaming towards the series of orbital stations that hung above the world's atmosphere. Though the Emperor's flagship possessed enough firepower to obliterate the entirety of the Mandalorian Empire's former holdings in the system, the Emperor and his military advisors had decided that reclamation of the drive yards was a more profitable venture than outright destruction.​

​

And to ensure that the yards fell into the hands of the Sith, the Emperor himself traveled towards the central station. At his side was Gunnr Zambrano , one of his Empress-Consorts whom he possessed a special and intimate connection. This was to be her first time accompanying her Emperor into former Mandalorian space and to combat Mandalorian warriors face-to-face.​

​

It would be a test, and if she had been conditioned well then she would show no adverse signs when exposed to Mandalorians and their iconography.​

​

"ETA one minute, Emperor."​

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Carnifex looked to his wife as he tightened the last of his armor, "Are you ready, sazil?"​

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

Objective I: The Siege​

Post: 1​

To ever truly establish hold and dominance over the backwater world the prime objective had to be the siege and capture of the Beskar bandit hold set within the Cathar wastelands. Finally, a style of war familiar to the General. Armored maneuver warfare and siege tactics were the bread and butter of his education at the academy and now came a time for which he might finally be able to utilize both.

Landfall was made by heavy transport crafts, carrying thousands of men and accompanying armored fighting vehicles. The manpower would be needed for what they were soon to face in the heart of Mandalorian dominance over the planet. A strongly built fortress, certainly. But nothing that couldn't be pounded into dust or a breach broken through enough for Imperial Legionnaires to pour through.

Just after the horizon's edge from the view of the Mandalorian fortress, putting them at over fifty kilometers away artillery batteries were fixed and with the fortress far too large to conceal the mass driver cannons of the modified 'Claymore' repulsor-tanks arched before they primed to initiate their fire mission, throwing heavy shells into the fortress. Though the preliminary bombardment was welcome, still a great deal was needed before a proper assault.

Making up his squadron the Major General sought to put three squadrons worth of 'Cataphract' main battle tanks to a baptism of fire whilst utilizing the support of heavier Claymore IIs and Carnivores to break-through Mandalorian lines, utilizing the anti-air batteries amongst the otherwise standard variants of either vehicle to pick Mandalorian air-support from the skies above. Unconventional all the same from an Imperial General, coming from a lineage of doctrines which prized the use of tall AT series walkers, transports and siege platforms but Tavlar held much higher value in the speed and smaller profile the repulsor-lift tanks brought, especially in the face of the heavy-caliber cannons the fortress equipped itself with, able to focuse target and annihilate any large walker that dared its approach.

Though, none of this could ever be put to any use with the fortress laid out as it was. The minefields provided a particularly peculiar challenge. The lack of air space control and were secured meant the Sith couldn't reliably use drop-ships to field troops far closer to the fortifications whilst trudging across the open fields with minesweepers at the head of single-file formations would've meant the very same defenses could simply cut off each column and pick them apart.

Tavlar sought to draw them out, sending a prodding, meager formation into the open wastes within view of the fortress. Whilst heavy artillery battered away at the stronghold. The Empire could siege for eternity whilst the Mandalorians would eventually have to bend the knee or force the Sith off of Cathar themselves if they wished to retain their petty demesne.

 

[Gunnr Zambrano]

Objective II: Drive Yards

The Panathan House Fitz-Kierke had far too much trouble with Mandalorians over the past decades since Aunt Aditya scurried off to an in-advantageous marriage to one of their bucket-headed miscreants. While Gunnr remained immune to the machinations of Mandalore in her sanctum of Panatha, the stories of her Aunt, ill-fated cousin and eventual destruction of all the Infernal held close to her bosom were cautionary tales. Nightmare stories Gunnr heard only in passing, before Papa Girak or Grandmama Ada halted their whisperings. Waited for her to leave earshot down the hall.

If one were to ask Gunnr precisely what went wrong with her Aunt, Cousin and their children, Gunnr had no answer. None beyond the armour and helmets becoming a sort of poison. Beskar. How was an inane metal worth more than blood?

Secure on either Panatha or Bastion, Gunnr remembered nothing of the Mandalorian campaign but how wounded her husband was at its’ conclusion. Yet none of the words reached the curve of her ear. Nothing but the heralded after. Hands trailed her armour, affixing straps for the third, the fourth time. She huffed at the helmet. Wearing such a contraption was far too stifling, even if it fit comfortably in the crook of her arm.

While hyperspace veered in bands of light on either side of the Behemoth II, Gunnr sat musing over the complicated history of her family with such… confounding people. Until the one minute call woke her conscious mind.

“Yes, pi sazi… although this helmet still feels… claustrophobic.” Gunnr’s boots attacked the ground with each primal step, eyes only on Darth Carnifex . Her armoured hand splayed on his chest, lips pursing in a chaste kiss to the side of his mouth. She slid her helmet in his hands, looking nowhere but his eyes. “Is there something wrong with it?”

Strapped to her back, her vibro-ax waited the carnage ahead, her lightsaber clipped to her belt. She re-adjusted one of her Kaine’s armour tightenings, knowing only in the back of her mind there was a sensible reason why she did so.

“I won’t fail you, Koe.“

 

[Mythos]

Objective: III The Feast of Heroes
Location: Vast Velt
Post: #1

A feast of heroes and warriors, the closest these savages could get to one of those ballroom galas that he had been attending to. Here was a war few could actually fight, few could relate and speak the language of the grunt, the fighter, the entrenched soldier. Someone was needed that could relate to them, out-drink them, out do their war stories, bond by acts of violence and suffering as well as discipline.

Mythos came with his Golden Armor, the ship called The Magnus Battlecruiser hung in orbit but he came down on a multi billion credit speeder that would be the envy of lesser merchants and lords. Mythos walked adorned in opulence, furs skinned from the jungles of Sector 343, Florn, Abajji and the Suu-Ruuk clusters. Around his neck hung gold, ultrachrome, songsteel and a rainbow of precious gemstones carved to perfection.

His cadre consisted of Anubians who brought jug after jug filled with the finest wines, Valkyr barbarians who brought wooden kegs of Ale from the Wolf and Brew Alehouse in Midvinter as well as several Atrisians who brought his special Sith Weed to smoke.

The feast had already begun, silence befell as the Sith Lord walked in with his host and raised a clay jar with Ankhyptian hieroglyphs carved into them.

"The feast can now officially begin, finally you have among you a Hero and warrior worthy of the name you clad this feast with. Truly you are blessed, endowed with the armies of my Emperor and with the presence of his greatest champion."

He poured the wine on the floor, looked around the great hall and watched as some were scared, some were angry and some were confused. Others just shrugged as if it wasnt even the strangest thing they had seen this week. Without hesitation he began drinking and drinking and drinking from the jar of clay that was incredibly large until eyebrows began to raise.

He drank and drank, the wine pouring out of his lips edges as he began drowning the entire jug in one standing. When he was done he smashed the clay jar beneath him and raised the broken handle.

He would out drink, brawl and basically out do everyone in this feast. His brash, arrogant yet incredibly infectious charisma would win every damn warrior and hero in this hall one way or another. He would eat more, speak more loudly, One Up Stories and otherwise show he was the biggest, richest and most powerful Hero among the Heroes.

Of course there were already those lining up to be the one to out drink, beat up or otherwise outdo Mythos, yet they would all fall before his Midvinter Ale curated liver. None who could fall to alchol and vices would stand before him, all were warriors and all drank wine and booze like water but they were about to meet their match.

"Who shall be the first to drink with me!?"

His cadre lined up the tables with wine and free booze, that always got a cheer. The first and last rounds were on him as were every round in between.​

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Objective III: A Feast of Heroes/IV: Blood Hunt

Part of any feast are games of strength and stamina. And while some took to carousing loudly and boisterously with exotic intoxicants, others took to a no less ancient and equally tradition-bound exercise: A blood hunt.

She had been invited to such a hunt after a fierce discussion with Ucoc Ragh, a young representative of the Catharan Unitity faction. Their tradition dictated that the blood hunt purged them of inner darkness, in the same way one could burn unwanted things. Joycelyn had proposed that their feral indulgence merely internalised the darkness and that their darkness and aggression were assets to be nurtured, not shunned. WIthin reason of course. So she had been invited with the goal to either prove herself correct, or be proven wrong.

It was also a glorious opportunity to curry favour with the traditionalists of Catharan Unity and bond with their younger members.

Come the break of dawn, she and Ucoc Ragh were shuttled out to the savanna. Ucroc claimed he only needed the use of his claws, but Joycelyn had been allowed a weapon. She had brought her lightpike, but her pride urged her to show how ferocious she could be with her bare fists.

Ahead, the savanna grew barren, and the landscape dipped into a series of wide caves in the broken clay and pale sand. In macrobinoculars, they could barely see the multitude of kiltik guards on watch

For this, Joycelyn had opted to shed all of her armour, and instead favoured form-fitting clothes, in similar style to what the cathar themselves wore. She kept her spear low as they snuck closer, hidden in the tall grass. She followed Ucoc's lead as he knew the land better than she. And while Joycelyn was not a specialist in the silent approach, she made her best effort.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Objective II: Drive Yards

His face betrayed little, but his mind knew exactly where Gunnr's aversion to wearing a helmet stemmed from. ​

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"You needn't wear it if it discomforts you, sazil. I will not wear one either."​

​

He returned the helmet he had been holding in his left hand to the Symeong attendant at his side, who graciously bowed and trundled off to return it to the dropship's cargo storage. The Emperor ran the fingers of his now empty hand through his hair, which had recently been grown through accelerated hormones after the skin had been treated with kolto. The scars that once disfigured his face had also healed, the gaping wound in his cheek replaced by lab-grown tissue that mimicked real flesh almost perfectly. If one looked closely, they could see the minute difference where synth-flesh met real flesh, but there were few who could afford such an intimate view.​

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The lights inside the cabin blinked out, quickly replaced by the red glow of the warning lights that indicated that they were on the final approach. Running the tips of his fingers along Gunnr's cheek and lip, the Emperor centered himself with the Dark Side of the Force as the seconds ticked away. There was a thud as the craft magnetically attached itself to the drive yard's hull, plasma cutters slicing through inches of durasteel with machine precision. Another warning went out as the artificial gravity inside the craft was temporarily disabled, another for each occupant to engage the magnetic coupling on the soles of their sabatons, and a final warning as the drive yard's hull was breached and the breaching hatch opened in the center of the ship's floor. ​

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As always, the Emperor was the first through the breach. The transition from standing straight to moving through a hole in the floor that became a hole in a wall was disorienting to some, but the Emperor had made countless maneuvers like this in his life and there was no discomfort for him. Because of that, it was up to him to hold the line and eliminate any and all foes that could threaten the disgorging of soldiers into the station. Fortunately, the response to the breach was lethargic and there were only a few Mandalorians waiting for him outside.​

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By the time the last soldier had made the transition, the Mandalorians in the corridor had been rendered deceased.​

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Gunnr Zambrano ​

 

[Gunnr Zambrano]

Objective II
Allies: Darth Carnifex

“Thank you pi sazi… such a strange thing, being… shut out by a cage of metal.” Gunnr’s body settled the tension which crept into her bone cage, as she handed the Symeong her helmet. Her right shoulder rolled and she cracked her mighty neck. “I’d rather smell the fear and blood of those we kill, than be so removed.”

Hunting was, after all, her favourite thing.

Her eyes chased the flesh of his cheek, up to a spidering scar above his left orbital bone. Once much longer, the synth-flesh removed some of those spidersilk scars, truncating the visible signs but none of the memory. Er’kit. Dromund Kaas. How her Koemi forgave House Fitz-Kierke enough to make their marriage was proof of the rare but present acts of kindness which caused the young Consort to fall in a fierce love. Short of reaching to touch the synth-flesh, Gunnr pressed her cheek into his touch.

The red light soothed her sensitive eyes, doubled in the caress of the Dark as it swirled around them. Centred and controlled. Gunnr breathed it in, and beat her chest with one fist then the other, shaking out each joint in her armour to ensure the fit was perfect. To ensure full range. The craft sealed to the shipyard dock.

Gunnr’s shoulder bobbed into her Koemi’s, and her lips upturned in a contained but feral grin. Yes. Helmets were methods of detachment and the fear of a child locked from harm too long. They coddled warriors.

She clicked the maglock on her boots the second her body was released from the artificial gravity of the pod, the pit of her stomach giving a tiny thrill as the sparks below crackled in her ears.

Gunnr sunk to her haunches, unclipping the Contained Energy Axe from her back and feeling the weight in her gauntlet-clad hands. The grin grew, and she watched nothing but Kaine, waiting for his instigation before jumping through the breaching hole and landing on the far wall. She pounced to the floor, her mind catching up to the instinct of a warrior trained in jungle and battle to fight without quarter.

Ginger hair braided down her back, Gunnr shook her crimson head before launching forth, activating the axe’s red plasma blade and swinging diagonally from shoulder to hip on a Mandalorian who slid past Carnifex to cut behind.

Growling through gnashed teeth, Gunnr plunged the axe into the armoured man’s neck, eyes snapping back up as Kaine dispatched with the Mandalorians in the corridor. Armour of beskar, durasteel, painted blue, orange, red, green… Gunnr padded toward a woman in green armour, her breastplate slashed and gore flowing between the plate and the armourweave.

“Curious beings… locking themselves away. What must happen to a being to make hiding in armour better than…” The Mandalorian woman’s hand reached down to her belt, where several discs of silver metal laid dormant. Gunnr watched her until her hand was in reach, then stomped her food on the woman’s forearm.

“Aaah! Cha’kaar’e!” The Mandalorian woman screamed, back broken and other arm mangled by the Emperor’s ferocity. Her voice echoed out of the beskar helmet, components distorting her audio output with a crackle that caused Gunnr’s skin to roil and crawl. “Tion'jor parer? Kyr'amur ni!”

Eyebrows twitched as Gunnr brought her axe above her shoulders for the swing. What a strange thing… locking oneself away. What a curious thing. The axe tilted back still, until resting on Gunnr’s left shoulder, left hand holding the hilt.

“Coward.” Gunnr’s right hand motioned to the woman, fingers clenched. The snap of the woman’s neck was chased by a nervous system fidgeting in its’ death throes. Her foot lifted and pressed on the ground, then the other as Gunnr’s eyes chased up to her quarry, and once more caught sight of her husband’s face.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

Objective 1: The Siege
Allies: Irveric Tavlar
Post: 1

A nest of rats lay on the horizon and Voi’Kryt could help but compare the approach similar to that of Folende all those years ago. It would involve wading through a lot shavit. The odds were doubled here and the objective was far more respectable than any insurgent camp. Amongst the heavy drop that delivered them and the war machine planet side, she fell under the command of the General Tavlar.

The dust was thick and swirled, standing amidst the freighters descending the ramps quickly, hydraulics hissing around them. Orders flew over their heads with rows of Legionaries pouring out; a sea of Airborne armor and faceless soldiers. No man, no even herself left the drop ship empty hand. Moving supply crates and power cells for the armor as artillery set up was the prime step before the engagement.

Working amidst the chaos of moving columns and vehicles, the Major and NCOs left to her command divided the numbers between the three of them. It would only be temporary in the grand scheme, but by no means could they leave their flanks open while the artillery was busy punching straight in; so the best shots were moved in to place. Sentries established, waiting and watching the surrounding horizons for any insane challenge by ground, or aircraft.

The Legionaries were moving in temporary barricades off the transport crafts, if it somehow turned into a close quarter firefight they would have the means of cover. With their foothold established and the soldiers priming their weapons. Amongst the wasteland their ‘enigma’ camouflage was steadily muting their presence as it adjusted with the terrain. Their day only truly began when the first of the bombardment pulsed over their heads. The ground quaking beneath them with each artillery shot.

That had been her sign and sent her men packing for the staging area. Making her way toward the command point through the chaos, she flipped open the scanning panel on her wrist; priming it for the long walk. Hopefully this one wouldn’t get shot off this assault. They would be supporting the Cataphract and tank crews in the convoy with riflemen and a supplementing force of heavier gunners and sweepers moving in to position alongside the heavy machinery. It was going to be a smoking cover approach.

“General. Staging is complete, we’re ready to begin the approach with the armor, sir” Voi’Kryt reported in, sharp and eager. Halting feet away from the man, her hand snapping to her helm’s visor in salute.

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Objective III/IV: Blood Hunt.

Joycelyn and Ucoc Ragh lowered themselves in the tall grass as they came within view of the great earthworks of a kiltik colony.

The tunnels delved deep into the ground, leaving gaping holes like cascading arcs framing darkness. Sentries stood on guard, their feelers twitching and waving to pick up scent details and vibrations in the air. The two hunters had placed themselves facing the wind, keeping their scent from sailing downwind. Ucoc's nose twitched as he caught the scent, himself.

Joycelyn looked at him, then forward. She could feel him tensing in readiness.

The two hunters sprang out. Ucoc was significantly faster in his acceleration, but Joycelyn did not fall far behind. She stamped down her front foot as she activated her sabre-pike and twisted her body to drive the spear forward with her bod-weight, then release. The silver shaft cut through the air and slammed into one of the kiltik sentries. The spearhead burned through effortlessly, but the silver shaft solidified it in the chitinous corpse.

Ucoc tackled another, wrapping his claws around it's neck and tearing it open with both hands and impressive ferocity. With a second assault, the cathar tore the head of the young kiltik all the way off and threw it to the side. He huffed to regain the air in his lungs while Joycelyn retrieved her spear from the other sentry.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Objective II: Drive Yards

The Mandalorian struck the wall violently, the metal crinkling like tin foil from the impact. His comrade attempted to avenge him, swinging a large beskad at the Sith Lord with all the strength he could muster. The Dark Lord side-stepped the swipe and again danced away from the following strike. Fury and indignation drove the armored warrior's attacks, fueled entirely by emotion rather than strategy. That was what separated the beasts from the masters, for the Dark Lord of the Sith fought with emotion and with strategy. Yet it seemed as if the Mandalorian's latest swing of his blade would finally strike home, only to be deftly caught by the Emperor's hand before it could come anywhere near his body.​

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"Is that all? I expected the Children of Mandalore to fight with more ferocity."​

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Carnifex twisted the hand that held the sword, and the blade was snapped off right where it met the hilt. He reversed the broken blade and drove right through the Mandalorian's breastplate and through their heart. They soon collapsed onto the floor, a growing pool of crimson spreading out beneath their body. ​

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The Sith Emperor didn't linger on the corpse, his footfalls receding as he sought out his next victim.​

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Gunnr Zambrano ​

 

[Gunnr Zambrano]

Objective II: Drive Yards

Although he said nothing, Gunnr felt a sting of pride in her monstrous mate. Dispatching such… curiosities would aide in the alleviation of Gunnr’s post-Panatha malaise. A bit of primal fun. Hunting prey which knew how to bite back and snarl.

“No. The Mandalorians are gone, these are people in armour.” Easy. The Drive Yard should have been secured better, brought toward Cathar independence with a true fight in their bones.

But these… it seemed too simple. How could beings who voluntarily encased themselves in armour, presumably to remain ready for battle at all times, be relatively simple to kill? Why would they focus on melee with opponents near twice their size? Would it not be more prudent for the Mandalorians to keep at range, firing scatter shot lightsabers could not deflect? Kaine dispatched another, a pool of blood his reward for daring fight the Emperor of the Sith.

“If these are the fighters the Mandalorians left behind, I wonder where their true warriors are.” Gunnr slunk along the corridor, smelling blood and the ozone of blaster fire in the air. Another scent struck her nostrils, machine grease. Closer. The scent grew closer once she reached the blind corner.

A small unit of Mandalorians levelled their scattershot rifles and fired without warning. Gunnr slammed back against the safe part of the corner wall, eyeing Kaine. Her eyes grew wider, when six blasting clangs of heavy repeater fire scattered into the wall in front of them.

‘Traps, pi sezi. If resistance is this light, there must be reason. What have the Mandalorians to lose they haven’t already? We should send the girls around. See if the Mandalorians planted anything which would rid us of our prize.’ Projected into his mind, Gunnr counted the bursts of fire. Tried to feel out for the life forces of those around the corner. Four… six. Activating a melee shield in her right gauntlet, Gunnr growled and broke into the bottlenecked hall. The shield was struck with instantaneous scattershot cover fire, the initial Mandalorian barrage tapping harmlessly against the fluctuating shield. She charged at them, the shield burning with the kinetic damage until she was close enough to see the colours on their armour. A roar burst from her, and with it a commanding wave of telekinesis which sent four of the six careening backward off their feet.

Axe lifted, Gunnr swept down with every confidence her Koemi would not leave such prey all to herself.

Darth Carnifex Vandra Zambrano Raya Najwa Zambrano

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Objective II: Drive Yards

Disgusted, the Sith Emperor spat on the carbon-scorched floor. ​

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"Foundlings and wastrels, how contemptible."​

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They reached a junction where the Mandalorians had rallied into defensive positions, levying suppressive fire down the corridor to keep the Sith from poking their heads around the corner. It had been another test for Gunnr, and a test that she had passed without even truly hesitating. "A prudent suggestion, sazil. I shall dispatch several squadrons to scan the station." He pressed a button on his wrist-communicator that opened a direct line to the sub-commanders of his task force, including two of his own daughters. ​

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"Scour the station, ensure that these mongrels haven't rigged the entire yard to detonate. Kill anyone you find."​

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The order had been given, and the Emperor would turn to watch his wife emerge from cover and charge the defensive line of Mandalorians with all the fury she could muster. It was a commendable move, one that drew the Mandalorian's attention away from the Emperor as he too stepped out into the open. Unlike his Empress, the Emperor instead instantaneously moved his body from one end of the hall to the other with the Force. Lightsaber flashing, he struck down several of the disoriented Mandalorians thrown to the floor by Gunnr.​

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"Well done, sazil. These Mandalorians are no match for your power."​

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Gunnr Zambrano ​

 

[Raya Najwa Zambrano]

Objective II: Dock Yard
Allies: Darth Carnifex Vandra Zambrano

Raya vibrated in the reserve drop pod, held back to wait orders from her father. The slim Echani-Epicanthix half-breed trotted from foot to foot, ears focused on the comm chatter from Sith forces.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon… put us in, coach-daddy… put us in, put us in…” bobbing up on the pads of her booted feet, Raya tried to chew her gum instead of grind her teeth. Thankfully, her sister Vandra was beside her! “We got this, Vandy-pand. We got this… whatever the this is….”

Vandra helped! Vandra was… the best sister. And being a kid with seventy other siblings, that was saying a lot. Then… the resounding gruff of Darth Carnifex’s voice broke Raya’s desperate need to run around slicy-dice-ing various levels of mook.

“Eeee! Heard, Emperor-Dad! We’re on it! Vandy, we’re on!” Refusing to get confounded by ‘potential bombs’ and ‘suicidal Mandalorian potential blow up people’, Raya leapt through the drop pod umbilical and into the station.

“Forwaaaaard!” A half-dozen Blackblades followed the Zambrano princesses, as Raya booked it through the opposite corridor to the one in which their father and one of their many moms gutted the enemy.

 

[Marrow]

Objective III: Outfeast the feasters.
Location: A proper karking party.
Nearby: Mythos
Post Number I
---

Compared to the shiny Sith and his over-the-top entrance, Sarrius' was almost sensible. Almost.

Striding up to an entrance in the ceremonial garb of the Ancient Sith with naught but a curved dagger with which to defend himself, the young Sith was stopped by a half-drunk sentry. "Ey! Get lost pinkie, or I'll send you back to your Lords in pieces!"

A single twitch of an eyelid was all the warning the cat-thing received before the Pureblood was upon him, fists lashing out with relentless fury until it lay stunned on the ground, whimpering pathetically. After uncaringly driving a foot into the poor sod, Sarrius entered the feast, shrugging calmly at a group of staring cat-things. "He should have known better."

A moment of silence, and then the anticipation of future violence was broken by their sudden cheers, a cup of their strange ale soon after thrust into his hand as he was pulled into the feast proper. A people after his own taste, these.

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

Objective I: The Siege​

Post: 2​

​

"Then I don't care to waste time, Colonel. We're moving out." Tavlar muttered to Lyra, offering a faint salute in return as he waved his arm in the direction of the fortress. Lining up across a wide and loose formation the General's Cataphracht class main battle tanks aligned just within effective range, their heavy metallic landing gear planting in the dust, stabilizing their firing positions as the heavy turbo lasers packed into their turrets began to charge, drawing all of the power from the now disabled repulsor-lifts into the gun itself whilst maintaining a glancing shield presence the fully charged turbo laser guns started to fire off in loud, punishing volleys. Each tank cracked off rounds at its high intesnity firing setting, firing in swift two round bursts that clashed against the deflector shielding with staunch stopping power, flexing the blue sheen as it slowly shifted to its more damaged state.

Powerhammer shells and the mass driver batteries from Carnivore and Claymore II class repulsor tanks serving to further dig into the shielding before eventually it 'popped' sending a crimson ripple about the fortress, making way for the armored spearhead. The first through the breach were three HAVw AG 'Juggernauts'. Spread as loosely as they could to cover the path that could be unsealed by Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt 's detachment. The Juggernauts were an easy choice of target for the fortresses defensive positions. The frontal armor was able to eat most every shot as Carnivore repulsor tanks in their anti-aircraft followed in tow, swiftly clogging the air in blaster fire and guided missiles which would either repell the ground attack craft or send them hurling into a blaze of destruction, the impact of each shot down sending out a shockwave of detonating mines.

From the concentrated fire of heavy and super-heavy artillery batteries the section of wall from the attack was caved in, sending a catastrophic wave of metal and rubble down, quaking the earth beneath. From the armored transports the infantry disembarked in waves, sections linking up and laying down interlocking fields of fire with heavy blasters and rotary cannons. With the juggernauts at the tip of the spear they pulled free the missile pods from each side, firing their fully destructive volley into the fortress. The high explosive warheads reaped great killing force in the more confined space of the fortress interior, bursting Beskar clad Mandalorians into piles of flesh in gore, carving out a mouth to which the infantry could advance inward.

Uncharacteristically aboard one of the juggernauts, the heaviest vehicle among the formation Tavlar commanded the offensive. Flicking his comms to the artillery batteries he adjusted orders now that the armored spearhead that pierced the fortress walls.

"Major, command three of your batteries to sight in the anti-aircraft emplacements. I want one ten round fire mission and then order the dropships in." tavlar ordered, the spearhead had broken through the main walls however the infantry detachments would be bottle-necked and chewed through if another assault didn't redirect the defenses and force them to juggle target priority.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

Objective 1: The Siege
Post: 2
Theme

When the shield deteriorated into nothing, they had effectively stirred up the wasp’s nest. The wails of alarms could be heard from kilos away, a dark swarm of aircraft and beskar clad madolorians rallying to arms on the horizon. The spearhead was rumbling with electricity, and not to be left behind, Voi’Kryt had turned and put in double time to match the mega-vehicles departing. Her ‘Jackal’ primed and ready, she gave one round up to the soldiers, taking point as they rolled out. The wasteland at the mercy the Juggernauts, the colossus tires eating up the minefield. The front of the punch took the hardest hits as mines could be seen going off, flinging sand and debris, but the wheels did not falter.

Escorting the Carnivore and support tanks in suit, Voi’Kryt and the platoon fell into a loose formation, following the sandy track lines set by the beastly machines. The sonic dampeners of her helmet saved her from the mechanical roar. Outfitted with radar, they numbered roughly thirty men, flocking around the tanks, the only thing between them and a stray mine. It was that or one well placed explosive by some upstart Mando. The calm before the storm, sentries were counting down the minutes before contact. The low transport ships coming in fast and and jetpack clad Mandalorians closing in on them halfway to the objective. The Carnivores delivered the first of many charged shots, one landing that committed the first casualty to the minefields in a fiery explosion that shook the land.

Amidst the fire and smoke, they opened fire, dodging the maelstrom of blaster bolts as the Mandalorians descended on them like a dark cloud. Bolts scattered near her but she remained resolute, keeping pace with the tank and conserving her shots. The HUD was almost too slow for her taste and she picked her targets blindly, catching one Mandalorian off; one shot sent him barreling off course and gore through the air..Not all of them doned the legendary beskar and would suffer under one well placed bolt. The man landed somewhere in the minefield and she was trailing after another bird in flight. Lined up in sight but disappearing into the smoke that drifted from the crash, clogging the column. She narrowed her eyes waiting for the reappearance of the warrior.

“Back to back boys, don’t let them catch your six!” her voice filled the local comm. The nearest Legionnaires pulled together, two soldiers falling in on her flank as she pushed forward.

The tanks blasted away on incoming craft, if the Mandalorians wanted to get close they were going to have to pay the price. Tracking another fly boy, they descended on the rear Juggernaut, lining up on the sweepers below and she fired off three shots through the gaps of armor. Leaving a smoking corpse to fall and Voi’Kryt shook off the recoil.

There were counts of downed men over the comm and she waved her squad forward. They weren’t going to break up the convoy that easily. One glance over her shoulder as she swiveled with her rifle ready, holding her fire even at the dark shapes that passed over. She was nine shots in but wasn't going to waste needless ammo. The convoy was lagging though, comms calling for a halt and the Carnivore behind them reared, changing direction suddenly in the face of a creeping mine, missed by the Juggernauts war path.

They had flagged the mine ahead, turning her attention to the road block. She moved in she tilting the Jackal up. She gave the order to scatter and popped a grenade shot off. Well out of range of it’s fall out, it had the desired effect as the sphere set off the IED; the ground quaking-leaving a nasty hole in its place. Raising one arm and dropping it she hailed the line ahead. Another course of blaster bolts caught their path, grazing almost too close for comfort. Voi’Kryt kept count of her clip, wading through the fire fight as they punched ahead with desperate speed.

They’d collect the dead at the end of it all and they emerged on the other side men short, delivered by the Juggernauts from the smoke and waste to the ruins of the wall. It was quiet if only for a moment after such a heavy barrage of artillery, dust fall through the air..Jutting her hand out, the escort fanned out for cover among the rubble, waiting to advance as Irveric Tavlar gave the call for barrage. Watching their sights, waiting for reinforcements as the armor rolled in to the Fortress.

 

[Lark]

Objective: A Feast for Heroes
Nearby: Mythos Marrow

Well, I suppose a party's a party.

For all his talent in battle, there was another skill Lark honed more than he did any blade. The best way to understand people was to commune with them, and what better venue than the grasslands of Cathar could one hope for? His ability to sway groups of people en masse was unearthly precise, but Lark's skills were not innate, as much as he'd like one to believe they were. He'd learned which buttons to push, what silky songs he needed to sing in order to command a subject to carry out his will.

But the Cathar respected the strong, not whoever had the prettiest voice. That was fine, Lark was adaptable. Immediately upon entry his appearance was scrutinized, youthful warriors sized him up and gauged their odds. They soon realized those odds were almost nonexistent when a more brash warrior charged him, and within seconds the beast was on the ground gasping for air.

Since then Lark traversed the party relatively unbothered, only sharing drinks with a handful of Cathar natives and other Sith envoys. Some of his fellows were more boisterous than he, which suited Lark just fine. Let the loud seduce the loud, Lark had a different demographic to target.

Whether it was the most refined gathering of nobles or the most barbarous meeting of fiends, every collection of individuals had one thing in common. There would always be those who felt as though they did not fit in. Alienated from their friends and family, either by their own doing or otherwise. Recognized and respected but perhaps not fully understood. Those are the people Lark would seek out and talk with. The spurned, the ignored, the alone. Those were the ones most susceptible to his tricks, to falling into an inescapable chasm of darkness.

He understood that more than anyone.

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

Objective I: The Siege​

Focus: Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt​

Post: 3​

After the last round thudded home from the entrenched 'powerhammer' emplacements, several Sith-Imperial dropships soared out in three loose strike groups, rapidly embarking more troopers draped in 'Enigma' coated airborne legionnaire armor, meeting quick resistance the drop-troopers began their heavy and fierce fighting with the Beskar Bandits. Concussion riflers was more often than not the ordinance favored by Tavlar's heavy infantry, the sheer power of each round shredding any protection the Beskargam of the Mandalorian war-fighters offered.

The strong reserve force defended the heavy and super heavy artillery guns in depth as the Mandalorian armored patrol choked on an opportunity to ambush Tavlar's armored fist with an unforgiving array of minefields between them. All the while the armored infantry went through the breach in droves, very quickly splintering themselves into several different attack formations, covering as much ground as was immediately possible to avoid getting bottlenecked and driven out to begin with.

What the Mandalorians sported in superior ability was countered by the sheer firepower and numbers of the 12th Armored Assault Army. The 'Supercommando' training acumen meant little if the collective flechette, blaster and concussive fire was harshly suppressed any attempts to form around the defenses.

"Voi'kryt. Find where these warlords are hiding. If they resist, execute them. If they surrender I want them stunned and detained. You have command of the Fortress assault." Tavlar ordered from the command position of his juggernaut, avoiding the close range firefight if he could before flicking his comms to the artillery battery once more.

"Major. I want fifteen round fire-missions on the armored column in patrol around the main gate." Tavlar ordered, changing channels on his comms once more.

"Enigma group ; I want Point triads at the breach, cover the infantry and rid of any of the marauders that try and exploit the flank. The rest shift formation - regroup at the staging point and then I want a kiel towards the main road. Cataphracts in siege formation lay down fire on their armor."

Tavlar ordered, the Juggernaut shifting its driver position to the opposite side as it began to take the lead of the armored spear head once more in the opposite direction. The Mandalorians began to make the way down the cleared road ; taking fire from the superior range of the turbo lasers Tavlar sought to bottleneck them at the mouth of their own entrance to the main corridor toward the fortress' principal entrance way.