Dominion The Bryn'adûl | Late Evening Destruction - Dominion of Pammant

[Tathra Khaeus]

Objective: A
Post: Six

He ducked low avoiding the crackling blade of the Sith. Tathra side-stepped into a flanking dash around the assassin as she struck at where he stood, the Axe countering her strike for his side with a blow to her exposed torso - the strike forcing her to the ground, waist cut open.

The last assassin came again, unimaginatively leaping overhead, barely avoiding the swing of the Axe as they had done so before. But he had anticipated the move, his free hand catching his leg and completely overriding their own momentum as he yanked them down, landing on their chest as Tathra backed up toward one of the walls of the trench - turning into an underarm backward swing with the Sith’s body.

His head crashed into the ridge of the wall with an explosion of blood as he released the leg, the body continuing upward before crashing down in a bloody lump. The spray stained the right pectoral of his breastplate heavily, dousing it in droplets of cranial fluid as well. Dealing with Sith was always a most pleasant experience.

 

[Osam]

Objective B
Post 2

The savage drones had served their purpose as fodder and testing material as they disembarked from the Debaucher's assorted tendrils. Some quickly found themselves faced with little more than cosmic vacuum, thrown off of their feet instantaneously as the sudden suction ripped through them. Depending on where one was stationed, they could even see these fledgling Draelvasier as they were chucked into the endless void, their bodies covering over with permafrost and their innards quickly becoming privy to the brutality of space.

Osam winced as one of the half-corpses slammed into his own tendril. It was an uncannily disturbing fate to face, even for such primal beings. He did not believe that he would wish it even upon the weaklings of the universe. Far better for them to fall in battle or to be slain by an instrument of war than for them to suffocate in an endless freezing void. Nevertheless, the savages had served their purpose, and whatever intelligible forces remained on the Debaucher promptly made their way towards more fulfilling avenues of entrance.

The Risen-Srael and their fatalistic charges promptly began to take stock of the vessel, determining through whatever methods were available which bulkheads would lead into additional portions of the vessel, and which would throw them into oblivion. They'd discovered quickly that it was possible to feel the doorways in order to determine which ones were frigidly cold, and thus exposed, and which were only room-temperature. It seemed a good enough system... but it was slow, and disagreements arose over whether this hallway or that one was exposed or whether it was simply the clinging cold of metal that they felt.

Nevertheless, they advanced.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: B
Posts: 5

Those remaining within the Hangar spun on their heels, some too scared to attack while others rushed forward. Among them Sith, troopers and knights and even civilians. The Primarch, energised from his vampirism lifted his Staff forward toward the running civilians.

Tendrils of lightning crept forward. It flashed out and struck the beings. Some were thrown to the ground immediately while others ducked and screamed. The crackling lightning continued for a few seconds until most of the defenders were either dead or had fled into behind the ships.

The Drones lead by Juggernauts and Shamans now filled every corner of the hangar, there was simply no escape for those who remained within. The Primarch watched, soaking in the fear of his hated-enemy.

 

[Keldothera]

Objective: C
Post: Four

The Gunboats came down from above, their plasma throwers pushed through the cracks in the rooftops of the blackened corridors the Sith troopers were hiding in. A moment of silence filled the ever-crumbling cathedral as the Sith troopers shifted their weapons to fire at the plasma throwers above them.

That was followed by the air, pushed out from the crevices between them as molten hot plasma flames tore into the buildings - gushing out of their sniping nests as screams filled the cathedral. Rattling to its core.

Keldothera picked up her Carbine, picking off five as they came running from the side-lines. One bolt through the neck for the first, one in the eye for the second and two to the chest for the last three in a spray.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Objective: A
Post: Seven

Tathra stood over the corpse of the fallen Risen, a shame. They were well trained warriors, the first - Osam. He had done well with his kind, so well in fact he had often thought about making him a Warlord. But, he couldn't. It wouldn't have been right, their ways were set for a reason.

And whilst in truth, Osam was a competent warrior he was still a Srael. And Srael were inferior beings, regardless of the content of their character. He sighed, shutting the eyes of the fallen Srael before leaping out from the pit. The battle continued to rage on around him. Tathra needed to get back to the sky, assess the battle across the planet and see what needed doing.

Raising a gauntlet, he called in his personal Gunboat to his location. They had won the fight in the outskirts, but the urban areas of the shipyards were still laid thick with their enemies. The Sith had been uprooted from these systems, but their lackeys and servants had been left behind. The troops , Sith and civilians were all the same, different kinds of weak minded creatures.

 

[Osam]

Objective B
Post 3

Tension was rising within the ranks of the Draelvasier warriors at every opened bulkhead and every sudden shift of atmosphere. For a few seconds, it would always seem as if though they had made a tragic error, and that the whistling of wind was indicative of the fact that they had sealed their fate. Perhaps they ought to have known better, but the lot of them had trained primarily in acts of warfare, and little else affected their worldview. Still, there had been no sign of life within the husk of a starship. They knew that someone had to be piloting the behemoth, and yet, it seemed almost as if though they had managed to secret away their entire crew beforehand.

Another corridor - this one interspersed with far more doors with the others indicated that they had reached some form of living quarters. A cursory examination of the doors that separated these personal quarters from the hall indicated that it was unlikely that any of them led into the void. Nevertheless, the Risen and their cousins were careful and meticulous in the opening of these doors, aware of the danger that might be presented should any of them suddenly break off into space.

There was a sudden jolt of explosive energy that caught Osam's attention - he saw the body slam against the opposite end of the hallway, saw the liquid blood spill from its back onto the wall, and the heaving gasps of a dying brother. A gaping wound presented itself along his torso, shredding through the Verikast-plate he wore there, and indicating that a projectile of significant force had managed to strike him.

"What happened!?" He exclaimed at the others, urging them to defensive positions to face whatever hidden ambusher had fallen upon them.

 

[Keldothera]

Objective: C
Post: Five

One came from behind, vibrodagger in hand as he came at it. Keldothera spun round, striking the Sith with the butt of her rifle. It knocked him flat into the rubble, helmet cracked open as she stomped down on the pink weasely head inside.

More and more came, some burning alive - others barely making it out with their personal shielding intact. She raised the barrel again, only for the crimson blade to slice it in half. Her eyes flickered as the saber spun in his grasp with unnatural speed toward her face.

She dove backward, barely dodging the saber as the plasma of the blade scorched the length of her helmet.

 

[Galak]

Objective: A
Post: Seven

It seemed as though whatever Sith Knight that had been leading them had put them up to it whilst he and his favourites hid in the cellar the building had now crumbled into it. There was no roof above them, only open sky.

At least they had dealt with the mortar.

Galak threw a slab of wall from his side, rising weaponless as his hands found the nearest trooper, crushing his neck like a twig as he flung the body aside. Twin wristblades jutted out from his right gauntlet. Hacking down two more troopers with vertical strike’s as Tirran spun round the Sith with an arm-aligned strike of the Staff to his back. The Drones fired immediately, pumping the fallen Knight full of bullet holes as he lay there exhausted.

“Nice work, Warlock.” The bruised Warlord said, rubbing away blood from the side of his jaw.

“Not so bad yourself, you fight like the Warriors back home say; Warlord. Second to none but the Chieftain himself.” Tirran looked over the body of the fallen Sith Knight.

 

[Osam]

Objective B
Post 4

The ambush never came.

Gradually as mere seconds began to stretch into a minute and then another half, the forces of the Bryn'adul began to draw closer to the offending entryway. One of the larger Risen paused at the precipice of the door, casting a questioning glance back at Osam, as though uncertain whether he ought to proceed into the room or remain only a sentinel for the others. The First gave a nod, raising his own weapon towards the door, prepared to deliver bloody retribution to whatever hostile had decided to slaughter their comrade.

There was a grunt from within the room, though it was neither the sound of struggle nor pain. Osam followed, drawn by the sound and the malignant curiosity that had brought it forth. A long cord ran from the handle of the doorway across the ceiling of the room, nearly taut, but somewhat loosened by their entry into the room. On the opposite side of the room stood a solitary chair, and wedged between its back and the wall pointed a fearsome if antiquated slugthrower.

Osam's eyes took it all in as his mind began to reconstruct the events that had led to the demise of his compatriot. The cord which ran perpendicular to the ceiling had been tight, connecting to the propped firearm in a way that had intentionally activated its trigger. Once the door had opened, that cord had shifted, and that shift had caused the slugthrower to fire. The enemy was nowhere to be observed because there was no enemy within the local area. In fact, coupled with the structural issues apparent upon the vessel, Osam began to wonder if there was anyone aboard at all.

If they were they might've heard their booby-trap going off. He hoped it struck fear into their heart instead of mirth.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Objective: A
Post: Eight

The Gunboat rose from the battlefield, rising into formation amongst a trio of five. The four other Gunboats were configured in a diamond formation around the Honour Guard's boat. The air was filled with smoke and fire, explosions shook the Gunboat as Tathra grasped onto one of the bracing-handles attached to ceiling of the Gunboat. The Honour Guards shuffled around him, the half-jaw shifting between them. The Honour Guard Ultra bowed before speaking, his armour bore a new scorched pauldron this day.

"Chieftain, there is no doubt. The planet will be ours. But we can save more of our Warriors lives in the process." The split-jaw explained, using his own communication stone to project a visualisation of what appeared to be a dam, littered with defences.

Below, was a bridge that was in the process of being fought over.

"Take us behind the Damn into enemy lines, the Honour Guards and I will disable them." The interior of the Gunboat acted as a communicator for the pilot, letting them know their plans.

The split-jaw nodded to the Titan. Time to get to work.

 

[Osam]

Objective B
Post 5

More traps had been laid in advance of the boarding party, and they tumbled directly into each of them. It wasn't for lack of attempting to locate the fiendish devices, but because whoever had invented them refused to perform the same trick more than a single time. First, it had been the slugthrower and the door, but next came a poisoned blade from underfoot, and then an inexplicably weak floor which had collapsed down into a series of hastily erected spikes and maintenance shafts.

Osam could feel a hint of anxiety among his companions at each newly opened doorway, and every searched room. Would they be next to fall victim to the trap maker's art? Thankfully, the entity behind all of the devices had apparently denied any use of explosives. They'd been across a dozen traps, and not a single detonation had triggered - apparently, they were worried about breaching the hull.

For every loss that was suffered, though, the boarding party grew nearer and nearer to their supposed destination. It was a war of attrition... but the Bryn'adul were all but endless.

 

[Keldothera]

Objective: C
Post: Six

Her senses were overwhelmed by the smell of burnt, melting metal. But she knew if she froze, she'd be killed. Sith like most humans weren't particularly strong, but Lightsabers were nearly weightless, it lent to a certain speediness she didn't care for.

Kelda rose, Kukri taken from her belt slick with Barricas oil as she blocked another blow from the Sith. In a split-second the blade was somewhere else, slashing up the side of her hip as she fell to the ground in pain.

Another blow came, Kurki met it - pushing the saber to the side as she ran her dagger down to the thick of the saber. Weight advantage. Kelda slammed the forehead of her helm into the Sith's face, pushing the saber to the side as she thrust her elbow into his chest - knocking him down.

 

[Galak]

Objective: A
Post: Eight

Some others might’ve complained their honor was stolen along with their kill. But those who fought alongside Galak had ought to know better. They fought to win.

“Hah! You should see Krarolk fight.” Galak laughed to himself, he didn’t believe for a second he came close to the ommage paid by that comment. Tathra could tear him in half in the blink of an eye.

“Who?” Asked the Warlock, puzzled as he drew close.

“How’d you survive the explosion? I thought I saw you die.” Galak ignored the question, he had a more important one.

“Instincts, I threw up a force barrier. Saved some of our Drones too.”

Smart, survival instincts were important. They needed more of that, less walking onto explosive trip mines. “Damn you, Pavium.” He whispered to himself.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: B
Posts: 6

This was what they deserved - all of them. He opened his mind, enticing a telepathic wavelength between himself and all of the Drones nearby. From him came a command, slaughter the weak. To those who were at their mercy, another.

They would die as children of Khaeus, and should rejoice in their gifted demise. He hoped at least some would find joy in that knowledge. His command was given, and the weapons primed and without hesitation those huddled cowards were cut down in a hail of fire.

The Primarch exhaled, satisfied that his work had been done here. The bodies lay strewn about where the result of their strnegth.

But there was still more to do.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Objective: A
Post: Nine

The Gunboats tightened their formation around Tathra's, blocking any incoming fire to keep the Chieftain out of harms way. But they all knew that would only last so long, he especially knew. He longed for the return to the fight, the lull in a battle was one of the things he found more difficult about war. The incessant waiting, knowing his children were dying below and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Who is it, fighting at the dam?" Tathra inquired to the half-jaw.

"The 15th Juggernaut regiment, 451st Drone battalion." Half-jaw replied, grimly.

A minute long, thirty seconds. It didn't matter, it weighed on his soul.

It was for the good of the Galaxy, but that didn't mean it didn't make him sad. But that sadness quickly became rage, Tathra's eyes burned gold as rage ran through his tense form. The hatch of the Gunboat opened against the pleas of the half-jaw, he wanted to see. They were over the dam now, the battle below looked gruesome.

"Open fire on their mortars!" Tathra roared over the sound of the battle.

The quicker their mortars were disabled the sooner they could take some of the heat off of the Warriors fighting below.

 

[Osam]

Post 6
Objective B

The traps had begun to grow more careless as the Bryn'adul forces advanced further into the hulking vessel. Osam imagined that their maker had grown somewhat more frantic as circumstances changed in the favor of the boarding party. Perhaps he had managed to set all of the traps before the ship had even launched from its berth, or perhaps they had been established mere minutes before the Debaucher had taken hold of its prey. It was impossible to tell for certain, but it was nevertheless apparent that the Draelvasier were on the right path to their prey.

For a single second, Osam's eye caught the gentlest glimmer of something along the corridor's floor. For an instant, the light had shone just perfectly so as to illuminate something hidden. It was very nearly not enough, but he had been tense for a while now in anticipation of the next deadly mechanism. The Risen's hand shot out like a missile, striking against the chest of one of the Baedurin near him.

Sudden commotion was enough to cause any group of soldiers to pause and prepare for an encounter, and the Draelvasier were no different. The sound of weapons being lifted to their firing position and the scan of eyes was nearly palpable. The Baedurin for his part glared down at the smaller Risen, a hint of aggravated curiosity tinting his features. Why had he been stricken?

"A tripwire along the ground there. See it? Take a step back so that the light hits it... there. See it now?" He instructed, taking a few steps backward as he highlighted the presence of the instrument. So close to their prey, had he finally grown desperate enough to use explosives in an unfinished starship?

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: B
Posts: 6

The Primarch moved deeper int the hangar, ahead there was a tunnel system leading deeper into the shipyards. Above them were trams, moving on long metallic bond cables. There were a total of twenty that he could see, but only one was descending, empty. An obvious decoy.

The other, he could feel this inside - peering through their eyes. What he saw surprised him, a Sith officer had his sidearm aimed at a Trooper. He focused once more, listening to what was being said.

"We left them for a reason! And we're leaving them behind too!" Shouted the officer.

"They are OUR citizens!" The soldier screamed back.

The Primarch had heard enough, with an outstretched palm he released a stream of energy draining light that halted the tram in its tracks.

 

[Galak]

Objective: A
Post: Nine

"What?" Tirran inquired, walking away.

"Nothing, Warlock. This sectors clear, I'm calling us in a Gunboat. Our forces are moving west, we'll get to the head of the fight quicker." Galak explained, raising his arm.

Tirran simply nodded in response, Galak linked in the battlenet. His mind was hit with a wave of verbal communication, focusing in on his relevant channels for his forces. They were moving in on the Sith artillery.

They would be providing support to the Chieftain. An important task indeed, Tirran would be pleased to know such an honour had come. The Gunboats came down, opening there deployment hatches for the Juggernaut Warlord's forces to enter.

"Come Tirran, no time to waste. We move to support the Chieftain."

 

[Keldothera]

Objective: C
Post: Seven

The Sith propelled himself upright, throwing his saber as Keldothera was forced low. The blade zipped back before she could even get up, the Sith launching threw the air to meet it and impaling it where she lay. Kelda rolled to the side, rising and slashing at the impaled saber.

The sith's quick hand work brought the blade around toward her neck as the General ducked low - the blade cutting into the thick of her armour on her back as she thrust the Kukri into his abdomen. She didn't wait for a reaction as she tore threw him, pulling it upward and out as she darted away as he lazily swung again.

Kelda grasped the hilt of the saber in her hand, thrusting her knee into his abdomen - knocking him down. She looked at the saber for a moment as the lights shun artificially overhead. Any real light now sparse between the crowding Boats.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Objective: A
Post: Ten

The five Gunboats spread out across the dam, opening fire on the placements. A total of one-hundred and fifty or so Juggernauts, all baring the white marks of the Titan's fist. Tathra lead them, spearheading the attack as they rushed from the Gunboats, ahead of them was a set of mortars and infantry.

Beyond that the risen platforms behind the dams battlements in which snipers and various others stood upon, firing down on the battling forces below. Tathra's sole pleasure in this fight was knowing that immediately the heat would be taken off of those below as the Sith defending the dam were forced to turn their weapons to those attacking them.

Tathra cut down the first two beneath the dam's battlements, releasing two blasts of kinetic energy sending both mortars and their parties across the battlefield. Tathra was aiming right for the battlements, his Juggernauts could deal with those below.