***34 ABY, Grasslands of Aliso, South Side of the Pirate Stronghold***

Concussive blasts and shards of rock pelted the advancing Plagueis forces as they attempted to penetrate the first layer of defense. The bulk of the infantry had managed to take minimal cover amongst the side of the cliffs, trying to hide from the defenders sending deadly bolts of plasma their way. The main force pressed the defenders hard, concentrating their pressure heavily against the forward defenses, which followed a curving path up the plateau and lead to the main compound. Heavily fortified, the approach would cost many lives. But Plagueis had plenty of slaves.

“Use what cover you can find! Someone hit that turret battery! Squad two, focus suppressive fire for the troops coming in behind!”

The Zabrak barked what orders he could in the small window between blasts. His battleteam had been given orders to secure the western flank of the rise, allowing the AT-TE’s to progress further in. Unfortunately, they had been pinned with the rest of the first wave on the left flank. Getting to his objective was going to be tricky. His blood churned as his temper began to foster. He flicked a glance over the troops assembled for him--from the heavy shock troopers to the almost mewling acolytes hoping to earn their stripes--and swore he would not fail in his first major assignment as a team leader. His sergeant, a rough and rigid man from Corellia, slid into a spot beside Kul’tak. His maneuver nearly sent him crashing into the jagged wall of rock, but he saved himself in time and threw a hasty salute.

“My lord, orders are flowing in from the Wrath. She is asking we take the hill.”

The Knight scoffed. Selika Roh does not ask. Nor shall I refuse her. He nodded his understanding.

“Prepare the men, Sergeant. We move to engage. We will take that flank.”

The man rolled, and pushed himself up before running down the line repeating the command. He hadn't noted on the fact that the charge would bring them within direct fire of the large turbolaser batteries stationed at the peak of the cliff. Never questioning orders. He was a good sergeant.

Kul scanned the horizon of the grassland. The Alisoan breeze gave the fields the appearance of an ocean, the ripples flowing out and away from the cliff and its imposing overwatch. All along the sea of green, the smooth waves were being interrupted by the march of infantry and heavy tanks. If he squinted, he could make out the vanguard as they pushed the lines forward. Selika was certainly in a hurry. Not that Kul minded, he loved a good fight.

The Zabrak's sergeant once again dive-bombed into cover, rattling off the condition of the battleteam. A few casualties amongst the troopers and one over-eager disciple who had chosen the wrong moment to peek over his chosen rock. Good riddance, Plaguies did not suffer fools.

“...accounted for and ready for the command, my lord!” Sergeant Guilherd looked expectantly to his superior.

Kul grinned eagerly, licking his mental lips in anticipation of real battle.

“Do you desire glory, Sergeant?” The man gave a whooping shout of agreement. “Good. Today you shall have it. Give the order. The Wrath wants her rock. Ah, here comes Shar'kala, perfect timing.”

The two watched as their wary eyes peeked over their cover at the creature pelting down the winding path. Her fur a midnight-hued blur with a streak of silver down her back, the Vornskr raced towards the attacker’s position. A few of the pirates took shots at her, but her speed was hard to lead for a hit. She made it safe and sound, nearly bowling over her master in her excited state. Kul reached down and scratched her ears.

“So you found it then? Well done, Shar’kala.”

The sergeant gave him a curious look. “My lord? Is there new intel I should be aware of? What did the beast find?”

“Let's survive the immediate danger first, sergeant, then I'll let you in on a little secret.” The laughter hiding in the crevices of his brow disappeared into his cold look of determination. “Give the order.”

With hand raised high, the sergeant tightened his fist. He brought it slashing down so that his fingers extended as if a vibrosword aimed for the compound’s very heart. With a ferocious growl, Kul leapt clear over the cover he'd taken and belted for the first target his eyes laid upon. He sprinted, not even bothering to draw his saber in his rush. The pirate gunner that was guarding the immediate corner they had to pass suddenly found himself being pulled from his spot. His vision filled with that of a Zabrak in an armored cloak, its orange eyes glaring and full of anger. It was the last thing he saw.

Kul dropped the pirate in a loose heap of appendages. He flicked an arm to fling the offensive blood of the outlaw from his claw gauntlet. A quick slice was usually effective enough to do the job. Trooper armor did not cover the entire neck, after all.

The loud whirring of gears warned of an impending assault as the turbo laser farther up the rise sought to break the advance. Kul felt the initial rise of something in his breast. Fear? He shoved it down deep and glared at the imposing machine. He just needed time.

The gunner scanned his targeting system. The being caught in its reticule was just standing there. *The fool. Thinks he can play games, does he?* He pulled the charging lever, giving the weapon a bit more juice. As soon as it was at the desired percentage...he fired. The cloaked figure disappeared in the resulting explosion. Then reappeared meters to his right. *The hell?*

The gunner rechecked his figures, sure he had made the correct adjustments. The Sith should be dead. Why was he standing alive, grinning like a fool? He saw the sudden glow of a missile trail moments too late. Its concussive blast shorted out his system for a brief span of moments, but it was enough to get his attention. Full of revenge, he re-targeted the turbolaser to face the main force, subsequently forcing another lull in the advance.

Kul bounded over to his battleteam on the right flank, where they were panting from the sprint. It appeared everyone had made it except for a couple of troopers, but they mostly all looked the same in their armor anyway. Kul’s Vornskr wagged her way over to him and preceded to use his legs for weaving practice. He attempted to ignore her as his sergeant came forward.

“My lord. I don't think I recall the part of the plan where you recklessly charge a friggin’ turbolaser. Pardon my Corellian, sir.”

“No need, Sergeant. I had a feeling you wouldn't approve so I did it without asking your opinion. I am in charge, after all.” He followed the statement with a grin. Almost the instant his cheek touched his lips, the smile disappeared and he gazed solemnly at the rise. Now that they had a strong position to advance with, they could press the attack and hopefully breach the compound. The Wrath had stressed her intentions to get there before the Dread Lord.

“Now we just need to spearhead the way to the compound,” Kul mused aloud. Guilherd removed his helmet and wiped a gloved hand across his brow, a bothered look on his face.

“Is it completely necessary for us to charge headlong into the barrels of the batteries, my lord? Could we not--”

Kul noticed the sergeant whip his head back, and even amongst the cacophony of the ongoing battle he picked out the sharp crack that followed. Realizing the situation, his eyes grew wide and he caught Guilherd as he fell. Warm blood flowed from the hole in his head, his foggy eyes staring blankly into the Zabrak's face.

At first, Kul couldn’t process it completely. His sergeant lay dead before him, but he held the corpse as the fluids spread over his armor and dripped onto the lush grass and stone. His head lay hanging, his inner thoughts swirled within. The battleteam watched, awaiting orders or even just a glimpse of assurance. They knew their leader and sergeant had become something of friends in their time serving together. The Zabrak’s cold and aggressive style managing to soften for brief moments when paired with the rugged, yet sarcastic Corellian. They might have been only able to imagine the anger that Guilherd’s death would cause, but Kul became that anger incarnate.

The battleteam took a collective step back when the Zabrak raised his head. His eyes had taken a red tinge that made his eyes appear like flames ravaging behind to glass windows. Settling Guilherd’s body onto the grass, he rose and faced the direction the sniper’s shot had originated from. The area around them felt suddenly a bit more stifling, but the humidity on Aliso was low today. A couple of the acolytes gave each other inquisitive glances, unsure of what the plan was. Just as one volunteered to step forward and ask, Kul roared. Not a roar of challenge, but a roar designed to warn the recipient that death was coming for them and it would not rest until it had found them. As his voice began to settle, he burst into a sprint. His saber appeared and it extended forth as a piece of himself, an extension of his desire to kill. His loyal Vornskr kept pace beside him, her own kill instinct being pressured into play from the Zabrak’s influence over her.

The rest of his battleteam watched in shock for a moment as their leader rushed recklessly into the front line of the enemy’s defenses, paying little heed to his own safety. Fortunately for him, his natural speed let him reach the lines before one of the turbolasers could pinpoint him. They once again looked around the group before shrugging and followed after. Pirate after pirate fell beneath Kul’s blade, his left hand reaping lives with every slash he made. The lines behind began to notice a lull in the defenses originally tight-gripped blockade. Sensing an opportunity they moved forward, allowing the heavy tanks to finally join the fray, as well. The turbolasers did not hold for long after that.

***34 ABY Aliso, Inside the Pirate Stronghold***

The southern commander’s radio exploded in a torrent of reports suddenly. Everything became a muddled mess of organization as he tried to make sense of what was going on. Some were saying it was one being who had triggered the advance, but other reports claimed the secondary Plagueian force had managed to breach the laser defenses and were advancing on the second line. Should Plagueis breach that as well, they would be within the compound. The Togrutan spared a glance at the Jedi he’d been tasked with protecting, the “Undesirables” that the Brotherhood’s Grandmaster wanted dead at all costs. He was beginning to think he and his men would be among that list very soon.