Battle for Zalanthas (CLOSED)

[Zalanthas Star League]

War raged across Allanaki.

It was an unceasing war, brutal warlords in constant battle as they attempted to keep what meagre assets they had gained on the ruined landscape. Cities, once housing millions, now housed a fraction of that, it's people struggling to make it through the day without suffering under their overlords and their "soldiers". The world was slowly dying, its people facing extinction. People prayed for a saviour, though only in quiet; many of the warlords had denounced religion, murdering those who kept the old ways alive.

And why not? The empire had fallen; the once mighty Zalanthas Star Empire was now little more than civil war across a hundred worlds, many planets no longer even having the capabilities to attempt space flight. In the Zalanthas sector (named after their sun), the home sector of the Empire, things were no better. Allanaki was once the homeworld of the Empire. Now, it was a ruin. For over ten years the different warlords had staked their claims upon the land, whilst what remained of the previous government no-one knew neither cared.

Until now.

From the largest of the three moons of Allanaki, the fleet departed. The most technilogically advanced ships left in the Empire, the twenty-four ships glided through the void. Within the different craft, preparations for war were underway; thousands of soldiers boarded landing craft, firearms and euipment strapped to their overt body armour. Sitting in their ranks, strapped down, many began to doze, allowing the hypnotic therapy to once again show them their objectives and the overall battle plan that they were soon to be a part of. Fighters and bomber crews, their ships created for both space and atmospheric flight, performed final checks while maintenace teams ensured that the craft were fully armed and filled with juice.

Scarce three hours later, planetfall began. The largest, and most sadistic of the warlords was picked to be the first target. His territories, an area covering fully half of the largest of the four continents upon Allanaki, suddenly found themselves under bombardment as sleek black devils fell from the clouds, lining up bombing runs. This warlord, known as Hogarth Bloodhair, was considered the most dangerous due to the small amount of technological equipment that was part of his armoury. Anti-aircraft laser turrets, cobolt launchers, and other weapons that would cause the complete and total destruction of any warlord suicidal enough to earn the ire of Hogarth, would cause considerable delays on the High Lords' plans for the re-establishing of the Empire. As such, he would be the first to be neutralised.

The bombers loosed their payloads, their targets designated; high-explosive rounds dropped from their wings, "burrowing bombs" that allowed them to eat their way into the ground by several yards before detonation. This way, they got at the vulnerable anti-aircraft defenses, historically kept in underground shelters until needed. However, as no-one but Horgarth on this planet had flying craft, the AA guns were always kept underground, and that was their mistake.

Behind them, the transports swooped in, thrusters firing as the craft hit the ground with a heavy thud. Men and machines spewed from the large, ugly craft, as the first weapons fire from Horgarth's forces began to strike their positions.

And so the reconquest of Allanaki had begun.

[Peace for men]

((OOC: can alien species join in?))

[Zalanthas Star League]

Upon the moon, all attention was now firmly rooted on the conflict raging on the planet below.

The moon, known to her people as Luir, was an old colony, and had been the first colony ever established by the fledgling Zalanthas Star League a great many centuries before. After the collapse, those leaders who survived fled to the moon, their soldiers and fighting men holding things together as it seemed their entire history burned unto ashes. Now, the last ten years had been spent training their forces, planning for the invasion below, and studying their enemies through the pitifully few satellites that still orbited Allanaki. Ten years, in which they bred a new form of soldier, a super-soldier, and those existing warriors found themselves going through hypnotic indoctrination and intensive training schedules, normally involving live ammunition to turn them into killers, cold and efficient.

Now, the assembled Lords of the League sat upon their ornate chairs within their command module in perfect silence, a semi-circular table supporting the eighteen remaining figures of the old order. Before them, a large viewscreen showed them their command centre, where comms operators kept constant communication with their forces below. A single large screen was on the far wall, broken into multiple panels showing the geography of Allanaki, positionings of their armies, and a status screen which showed the current strength of those forces on the field.

An officer, the shoulders of his black uniform showing the insignia of a colonel, spoke with the operators of several terminals before marching to the left and out of sight. A moment later, there was a chime within the command module and a great set of metal doors slide apart to reveal the colonel. He marched to the centre of the room, faced the assembled lords and dropped upon one knee, head bowed low.

"My Lords," He stated.

"Rise, Colonel," the left-most Lord replied, then continued, "Your report on the initial stages of the invasion?"

"My Lords, initial reports from the front line have indicated that the enemy were wholly unprepared for our assault. Enemy anti-aircraft placements have been neutralised, and forward elements of the Sixth Brigade have already engaged the enemy in street fighting within their capital."

"This is pleasing," Another Lord intoned, his face a mask within the darkened robes that all the High Lords wore, "However, what of our attempts to stifle the enemy's mobile elements?"

"Well, my Lord, this has also been met with some initial success. A large contingent of the enemy's armour, positioned near their borders, made an attempt to reach the capital through their badlands. Our bombers have been strafing them continuously, their commanders obviously considering speed more vital than concealment, and reported losses to the enemy's forces have been grave. The 1st and 3rd armoured battalions are moving to intercept those who remain."

"However, our infanty force in the south have met with less success, and are currently locked in a stalemate with the enemy outside of their major arms depot. We have considered the possibility of orbital bombardment to break the stalemate, but, of course, we would not continue with-"

"What "friendly" losses would an orbital bombardment of the area cost us?" The first Lord stated, interrupting the colonel.

"Well, my Lord, obviously we can never be certain of such things; to withdraw our soldiers from where they are fighting to allow such a bombardment may cost them more men-"

"We asked for your prediction, colonel; nothing more."

"Yes, my Lord... initial predictions say that at least 15% of the 7,500 men involved in the assault could be caught in the resulting conflaguration." Silence followed his words, the colonel feeling a single bead of sweat begin its run down the side of his face.

"Unacceptable losses, colonel." Yet another Lord began, leaning forward menacingly. "We have an Empire to reclaim, and such casualties upon our own forces BY OUR OWN HANDS would stifle our endevaours for a timely reconquest of the sector." The Lords went silent for a moment, as though communicating without sound. Finally, the Lord spoke. "We have a battalion of the Titans in reserve; you will send them in support of the infantry, straight into the heart of the enemy installations."

"But my Lord, they are unpredictable and-"

"Silence!" The first lord roared, the colonel visibly shaking at the rage within the voice, "These are our orders; Lieutenant Colonel Von Lewston will be sent into combat with them, he has... ways... of controlling their more base instincts. Now leave us, and obey our command."

The Lords fell quiet once again, the sudden silence permeating the air around the command module. Finally, pulling himself together, the colonel thought to say something, thought better of it, saluted and spun and marched out, the door sliding shut behind him with a hollow booming noise.

[Zalanthas Star League]

Commander Valchek of the 3rd Armoured battalion stood atop the turret of his Dominator tank, his body half-obscured through the vehicle’s turret hatch. Before him, lay a scene of devastation and wanton butchery of armoured forms. For leagues around him the hulks of fighting vehicles burned brightly, a terrible beauty in the light of the setting sun.

The 1st and 3rd armoured battalions had run across the tattered remnants of the enemy’s armoured column, their weighted bulks and the explosions continually blossoming from amongst their ranks easily visible in the flat, empty terrain. Allied airpower had continued their murderous bombardment, the enemy simply gunning their engines all the more in a vain attempt to outrun the falling death to try and help their beleaguered capital. The 1st battalion had moved to cut off their advance, whilst the 3rd attempted a flanking manoeuvre. It was easily spotted by the enemy, but they could do nothing to counter it, as bombs continued to fall upon their position and burning tanks were swiftly left behind.

After that, it had become a turkey shoot, and Valchek grinned as close by another enemy tank cooked off the last of its ammunition, small explosions rocking the dead machine. Now the enemy contingent was totally destroyed, the enemy having fought to the last, and this would be their graveyard.

“Right, that’s enough of this shit,” Valchek finally muttered, sliding back within the tight confines of the turret. Around him, the three other crew of the Dominator eyed him, waiting for orders. Valcheck slammed the turret hatch above him, then gazed upon his men from his elevated position.

“Transmit our current status to High Command; advise them that the enemy’s armour have been neutralised.” He ran a match across the side of the turret’s interior, holding the flaming stick to the cigarette upon his lips. He took a draw and held it deep within his lungs for several seconds before exhaling.

“Relay to the battalion, we’re rolling out. Orders from above indicated we’re to support the attack on the capital once we’d halted the enemy armour. Commander Margellas requested to lead the spearhead into the capital, and I see no reason to stand in his way.”

Outside, a single figure crawled pitifully from the burning hulk of his fighting machine. His uniform fused to his skin by the heat, half his face a black mask of sizzling flesh, the tank operator weeped softly as he dragged himself further from the heat, his legs blackened and useless; he did not know where he was going, his only thoughts to try and escape the terrible pain that flowed over him. Finally, he stopped, falling flat upon the sand, teeth clenched tightly as the sand aggravated his wounds all the more. There was a sudden roar of gunning engines to his right, and the man wearily raised his head, his one good eye widening as the tank tracks drew ever nearer. He barely managed a single scream as the tracks rolled over him, a scream that was dulled by the roaring of hundreds of other engines as the two armoured battalions began their journey towards the beleaguered capital, the fires of its destruction bright and visible in the twilight.

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The drop ships had swept over the woodland terrain that surrounded the arms depot, the ugly, ungainly machines weaving and duking as the installation’s hard point defences, designed for fighting on the ground, now wheeled their trajectory to it’s highest and spat heavy weapons fire into the evening light. Vulcan cannons, multi-shot laser destroyers and plasma annihilators began to launch their deadly payloads into the air, the kaleidoscope of colouring dancing and flaring their way through the tightly packed transport craft. Below, the beleaguered League forces used the momentary lull in the murderous fusillade to push forward, their squads leapfrogging between the trees and the monstrous craters created by the defenders’ weaponry. Still, they were now surplus to requirements; as soon as the drop ships had broken the atmosphere and set their course, the defenders were doomed.

Their covering fire, however, was still useful. With heavy thuds the drop ships dropped to the ground within the complex, sinking several inches into the soft mud. With a whine the doors began to open, two dozen transports showing the enemy the very cause of their destruction.

The Titans broke from the transports, their weapons blazing. Eight-feet tall and genetically modified supermen, their multi-barrelled high explosive cannons bombarded the defenders, high-powered destroyers scything through multiple men and armoured fighting vehicles like they were paper. The Titans were silent, the all-encompassing armoured suits they wore allowing communications with one another but keeping up their deathful persona.

Lieutenant Colonel Von Lewston, leading one of the Titan divisions, strode forward through the explosions and black smoke, the cannon attached to his arm auto-tracking targets of opportunity. Before him an enemy soldier lay in the mud in the foetal position, holding his spilling guts. Without a word Lewston stamped down upon the man’s head, causing it to vanish into the soft ground, the man’s body lurching into spasms. Yet already he was forgotten, as the Lieutenant Colonel opened a channel to his division, enemy weapons fire glancing ineffectually from the armour.

“Titans, with me! For the High Lords and the Star League! Fifth Squad, take point with your close assault weaponry; Third, weapons support! It is imperative we silence this facility, with the utmost haste!"

The Titans surged forward at their Lieutenant Colonel's orders, and the end was nigh.

Scarce two hours later, a communique was transmitted to the colony on Luir, advising of the pacification of the enemy's arms depot.

[Zalanthas Star League]

The falling of the arms depot proved to be the mortal blow for the forces of Horgarth Bloodhair; the majority of their more powerful arms had been kept there, and the loss of the complex denied Horgarth's forces the weapons necessary to co-ordinate an effective defense. Instead, Horgarth's mercenary forces were worn down over hours of constant warfare. Pockets of resistance were encircled and annhilated, while those who surrendered were disarmed and placed under arrest watched by a token guard. There had never been any intention to keep them alive; their Lords had followed the atrocities brought down upon the people by Horgarth and his men, and it had been determined that such barbaric troops could easily muster rebellion if allowed within the folds of the League. However, to destroy each part would be costly in both resources and timescale, and it was determined that if the enemy thought they would be granted clemency they would be more likely to consider surrender.

Horgarth, however, did not surrender, along with a large number of his men. The armoured divisions had arived to the south of the capital, their heavy weaponry helping to bring down strongholds, the enemy's meagre weapons struggling to pierce their armoured hides. Rumours of the Titan's devastating massacre of the arms depot sent the morale of the enemy plummeting, but those closest to Horgarth still foughht on, more for fear of their leader than anything else.

Horgarth, the great bear of a man that he was, had been holed up within his "palace"; in the first stages of the war he'd led from the front, pushing his forces forward, but he'd been wounded in a sudden League counter-attack and now sat within his "throne room", slowly bleeding to death, and cursing his foe. His bodyguards and generals, those closest to him and with the greatest to lose, kept co-ordinating the defenses.

Finally, after half a week of fighting, the "palace" was the only enemy strongpoint still standing. League artillery, a later addition to the League ground forces, now concentrated their firepower upon the grand structure, explosions blossoming across the walls of the building. Through the shattered windows of the palace throne room, Horgarth had gazed down upon the assembled forces of his foe, the high-powered assault rifle in his hands red with dried blood. His blood.

Eventually, a small trickle of Horgarth's followers had begun to flee from the palace, braving the vengeful fire of their own side. Those who made it to the League lines advised that fighting had broken out amongst Horgarth's followers, and it was decided that the time had come to strike the final blow. The Titans were rounded up once again, and used as an aerial force; as the League's soldiers launched a frontal assault upon the palace, the Titan dropships led an aerial assault upon the upper levels of the palace. This two-pronged assault broke the back of Horgarth's defense, and the Warlord himself died within his own throne room as the Titans made the final charge.

With Horgarth dead, the people rejoiced; everywhere in Horgarth's domain the people raised arms against his followers, and all were slaughtered. Those mercenaries who had surrendered to the League were rounded together in the fields outside the capital, over ten thousand of them. And, once there, they were gunned down by the League. Their bodies were buried in massed graves, upon the land that became known as "The Killing Fields". The people turned to their liberators with open arms, and as the High Lords travelled to Allanaki via ornate shuttlecraft one week later they were greeted outside the capital by hordes of civilians, who cheered them.

It had taken one week to secure the lands of Horgarth Bloodhair, the most powerful warlord upon Allanaki. Fulled by this victory, the Zalanthas Star League continued their campaign. It took another two years, for the other warlords now knew of this threat and began to band together, but ultimately Allanaki became theirs.

Now, another ten years have passed. Allanaki has prospered during this time, a unified people under the guidance of the High Lords. The population has risen, the standard of living for the people having risen considerably with the technology, once though lost, that were know offered to them by their leaders.

To the High Lords, though, this was not enough; now, eyes turned back to the colds depths of space, and the other planets of the Zalanthas sector. More of their people required liberation, to the benefit of the League.