Sergeant Omen
Arc Trooper Sergeant of the 41st Elite Corps
N/A
Last edited:
Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos
Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!
Faction 6 Feet Under and Still Mad as a Hare (SJC Mandalore Covenant and other Mando affilated Allies, Outsiders DM to participate)
What had started out as a standard drug bust of homicidal spice smugglers had now escalated into a rescue mission mission of sorts as the initial team of Mandalorians had gone MIA. It was clear that the opposition had been underestimated. Now Silver Jedi had shown up as part of the second team to investigate. All the while, the threat of the smugglers still loomed, who were now undoubtedly aware they were being targeted.
If there was a silver lining to all these, the low priority mission had gained more importance, so they had greater access to resources for this endeavor. Time to put it all to good use.
"There's an interdictor squadron in orbit, so nobody is getting off world without us noticing," Finley reported to the party. "I'm sure by now the smugglers know they've been made, so I'd advise we go in quietly to avoid any ambush. Do we have anything to work with from the Covenant team? Any mission updates or meta data from check ins?"
Units: 228th Black Ops Division (1x Fireteam)
Sergeant Omen
If there was a silver lining to all these, the low priority mission had gained more importance, so they had greater access to resources for this endeavor. Time to put it all to good use.
"There's an interdictor squadron in orbit, so nobody is getting off world without us noticing," Finley reported to the party. "I'm sure by now the smugglers know they've been made, so I'd advise we go in quietly to avoid any ambush. Do we have anything to work with from the Covenant team? Any mission updates or meta data from check ins?"
Units: 228th Black Ops Division (1x Fireteam)
Sergeant Omen
Last edited by a moderator:
Hand of the Fates
The Silver Jedi had offered an open bounty of 50,000 credits on the destruction of a known spice smuggler's den that has been hidden under a beach at the listed location. Smoke from the spice-making process has been seen drifting up from holes in the ground discussed with carved rocks that serve as vent covers. The location of the main entrance is not known and is likely is hidden in the sand. It is not known how large the entire complex is but there are likey homemade sensors and camera's dotting the perimeter of the base plus an unknown number of deadly traps. The Jedi has delegated this task to the Mandolorian Covenant to take care of first which has sent a team in to investigate but nothing has been heard back from them in several days. Some hearsay amongst the local Wookies says this location where a Clone was killed by Trandosain raiders back during the famous Clone Wars 800 years ago and that has vengeful spirit haunts these trees still. Whether these rumors are true or not is up to you to determine. With all the information in front of them, it is now up to the Jedi and the Covenant to dictate how to proceed.
Character
The bounty Amelia had little interest in, truth be told. Sure credits helped get by whether it was living expenses or traveling from one planet to another. However a smuggler’s den wasn’t really out of the ordinary, even if they were delivering spices. Now if she didn’t have any pressing matters of her primary objective then sure she might have swung by to lend a hand or saber. However, what she truly came here for was none other than the apparent vengeful spirit that haunted the trees on this peculiar planet. Amelia wasn’t going to bet fully on a rumor, but in her experience a rumor about these spirits tended to be the truth.
Who knows, maybe this spirit got to the team of Mandolorians before they set foot on the beach? Either way, Amelia searches the forest near the beach for any signs of Mandolorians or this alleged spirit. If she could even find the ship that the initial team had arrived on, then perhaps that could clue her in as to what happened. Besides, the main force appeared to be gunning for the den in the beach, and Amelia was confident in herself to take care of whatever came her way. That being said, she continued to reach out in the Force as she searched to clue her in for the spirit, or the team of missing Mandolorians if they’re still alive somewhere.
Over the comms, Amelia has been quiet yet still tuned to their own frequency with the rest of force. She tended to not clutter the communications with mediocre and useless information such as not finding the target unless she was asked for an update. She was garbed in a simple long sleeved shirt, black pants, and leather boots. Most of which were made out of Enviroweave which allowed her to stay cool despite the small layer of pelts that decorate her chest and waist. Her brown jedi robes that she rarely wore outside of a mission rested on her shoulders nicely while exposing her front a little. The long sleeves kept her hands out of sight, but in her hands were the hilts of her trusty lightsaber and shoto.
Finley Dawson
Sergeant Omen
Who knows, maybe this spirit got to the team of Mandolorians before they set foot on the beach? Either way, Amelia searches the forest near the beach for any signs of Mandolorians or this alleged spirit. If she could even find the ship that the initial team had arrived on, then perhaps that could clue her in as to what happened. Besides, the main force appeared to be gunning for the den in the beach, and Amelia was confident in herself to take care of whatever came her way. That being said, she continued to reach out in the Force as she searched to clue her in for the spirit, or the team of missing Mandolorians if they’re still alive somewhere.
Over the comms, Amelia has been quiet yet still tuned to their own frequency with the rest of force. She tended to not clutter the communications with mediocre and useless information such as not finding the target unless she was asked for an update. She was garbed in a simple long sleeved shirt, black pants, and leather boots. Most of which were made out of Enviroweave which allowed her to stay cool despite the small layer of pelts that decorate her chest and waist. Her brown jedi robes that she rarely wore outside of a mission rested on her shoulders nicely while exposing her front a little. The long sleeves kept her hands out of sight, but in her hands were the hilts of her trusty lightsaber and shoto.
Finley Dawson
Sergeant OmenSergeant Omen
Arc Trooper Sergeant of the 41st Elite Corps
TAG: Finley Dawson,
Amelia Venthyra
As the Knight searched the beach, little did she know that someone or rather someones were watching her from the treetops. The salvaged camera's in the trees produced a picture on the thrown together monitors in the same space where a humming clone was taking apart a faulty proton torpedo on his workbench. He needed to get this rocket retooled and ready to be returned back to the armory before the end of tomorrow. He was almost done replacing the faulty circuit when a beeping caught his attention and made him reluctantly check the computer screen. What is she doing here? I thought I sent that other Mando team away... A wicked grin crept up the upon the clones face Well, at least I can have some fun with her while she is here... Lets see how far she gets. He was probably going to get shit for this from the Jedi later but who cared. They were all bark and no bite unless you actually meant to harm one.
Omen pressed a button and soon enough a deadly moan came from the woods on the other side of the stream from where the Knight was standing. Trying not to snicker, the clone howled into a microphone, the autotune making his voice sound a little more like the banshees that inhabited this hill he was under. "LEAVE! LEAVE US IN PEACE JEDI! YOU ARE NOT WELCOME HERE! GO BACK TO WHERE YOU CAME!" The Trooper couldn't help laughing after he had shut the microphone off. This seemed too much like one of those old mystery cartoons he used to watch between deployments and he was now the big villain, terrifying the intrepid gang till they peed in their undies. Hopefully, he had sounded believable enough but that didn't really matter. All that mattered was if the Jedi believed it.
(I don't think Finley is close enough to hear the Microphone, so he won't acknowledge it unless someone tells him.)
"Aside from their initial insertion point, there's nothing so far," Sergeant Kodi reported. "We weren't even aware of the disappearance until their failure to check in, and that was a long time ago."
"Hmmm...." Finley mumbled, scratching his stubble. "I'd hate to assume the worse, but with few clues it may be best to operate as if they've been captured by the smugglers. Our best bet will be to check out den itself and see if we can figure out their whereabouts then."
That would entail completing the bounty - padding his pockets with a nice chunk of credits. Perhaps even a hefty bonus for tracking down the Covenant Mandalorians. Some other Jedi would probably shy away from collecting the bounty for themselves, but Finley wasn't one of them - credits made the world go round.
"There's some other Jedi scouting around. I'll check in with them first and give a heads up."
He clicked on the commlink hanging out of his right breast pocket, pinging Knight Venthrya on the same channel.
"Dawson here, we haven't found anything on our end. Thinking about making a B-line straight for the Den? Have you had any better luck?"
Units: 228th Black Ops Division (1x Fireteam)
Wirewolf88
Sergeant Omen
Amelia Venthyra
"Aside from their initial insertion point, there's nothing so far," Sergeant Kodi reported. "We weren't even aware of the disappearance until their failure to check in, and that was a long time ago."
"Hmmm...." Finley mumbled, scratching his stubble. "I'd hate to assume the worse, but with few clues it may be best to operate as if they've been captured by the smugglers. Our best bet will be to check out den itself and see if we can figure out their whereabouts then."
That would entail completing the bounty - padding his pockets with a nice chunk of credits. Perhaps even a hefty bonus for tracking down the Covenant Mandalorians. Some other Jedi would probably shy away from collecting the bounty for themselves, but Finley wasn't one of them - credits made the world go round.
"There's some other Jedi scouting around. I'll check in with them first and give a heads up."
He clicked on the commlink hanging out of his right breast pocket, pinging Knight Venthrya on the same channel.
"Dawson here, we haven't found anything on our end. Thinking about making a B-line straight for the Den? Have you had any better luck?"
Units: 228th Black Ops Division (1x Fireteam)
Wirewolf88
Sergeant Omen
Amelia VenthyraCharacter
The voice that spoke from the forest, reverberating from one tree to the next, attempted to attack at her resolve. Yet even as she continued to reach out into the Force in attempts to locate the source. There wasn’t any indication of the dark side present. Or really anything that wasn’t the natural life that lived within the forest. Mostly small creatures equivalent to squirrels, rodents, and insects. Of course, Amelia was aware that spirits are notorious for their ability to hide their presence until they want to be known, or until they lash out at whoever invoked their wrath.
”Oddly protective over a piece of junk of land. Kept a secret stash of spices here maybe?” Amelia spoke in her usual tone as she practically mocked the alleged spirit, attempting to anger it enough to show itself. At the same time she continued to travel through the forest as she searched not just the forest floor, but up in the trees as well. That was until she came upon the stream.
Her comms buzzed with activity as she felt that it was directed at her this time. With help from the Force, Amelia jumps high with a backflip to land on a tall branch before she presses the button on her comlink.
”Silverblade here. There hasn’t been any visual contact of the missing team or the ship they came in. However, there was a voice that highly encouraged me that I should leave, and well… Usually when people tell you to leave it usually means that they have something to hide, protect, or just some lone wolf who just wants to be left alone. Currently I’m attempting to locate the source of the sound and I’ll inform you of what I’ve found.”
Sergeant Omen
Finley Dawson
”Oddly protective over a piece of junk of land. Kept a secret stash of spices here maybe?” Amelia spoke in her usual tone as she practically mocked the alleged spirit, attempting to anger it enough to show itself. At the same time she continued to travel through the forest as she searched not just the forest floor, but up in the trees as well. That was until she came upon the stream.
Her comms buzzed with activity as she felt that it was directed at her this time. With help from the Force, Amelia jumps high with a backflip to land on a tall branch before she presses the button on her comlink.
”Silverblade here. There hasn’t been any visual contact of the missing team or the ship they came in. However, there was a voice that highly encouraged me that I should leave, and well… Usually when people tell you to leave it usually means that they have something to hide, protect, or just some lone wolf who just wants to be left alone. Currently I’m attempting to locate the source of the sound and I’ll inform you of what I’ve found.”
Sergeant Omen
Finley DawsonSergeant Omen
Arc Trooper Sergeant of the 41st Elite Corps
TAG: Finley Dawson,
Amelia Venthyra
The Clone chuckled at the monitor, hearing her words. Yes, it is a piece of junk with rocks strewn all over it but this is still my and my brothers' piece of junk. He turned the microphone on once more, the auto filter-making his voice into a wail. "YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED JEDI! FOR WAKING US FROM OUR LONG SLUMBER LIKE THE INSOLENT FOOL YOU ARE, YOU HAVE EARNED DEATH! PREPARE TO FACE US IN BATTLE!" Without warning, the Jedi jumped over the stream as you would expect from a Jedi. They never stood in place for long, did they?
The cameras followed her path into the blighted forest with her sometimes landing on the same tree that he had cameras placed in the trunks. As she talked into her commlink, Omen decided that should stop. Flipping a switch on the console, he switched on an old signal jammer that he had scavenged from Silver Rest's old warehouse of out-of-date equipment. That should keep them from communicating for a while. Now it was time for the big show. As the Clone put his gear on, he sure hoped the Jedi enjoyed it.
As the Jedi started to travel further into the growths of trees, a heavy mist would start to form in front of her and if she looked hard enough, she would see a platoon of old clones marching in lockstep like on parade, their Phase 2 armor glowing a faint spectral blue as they passed through any obstacles in their way before stopping a short distance away from the Jedi and aiming their rifles at her. Their purpose was not known but they weren't Spice Runners in costume, that was for sure.
Venthyra didn't have any better time looking for remains of the Mandalorians, but she had received a warning to leave. So someone was still running around here, and they knew the Silver Jedi were coming.
"I'd only be too happy to vacate the dustbowl," he called back to Venthyra. "But of course after we've completed our mission. I think it would be wise for us to conver--"
He winced as his ears was hit was a sudden screech of static from the commlink.
"We just lost our connection to the network," Kodi informed him. "we're being jammed."
Jammed? Electronic warfare was a little advanced for some common spice smugglers. Needless to say, he was starting to have a bad feeling.
"Okay...so subspace is currently out of the question, but we still beam up to orbit with laser lines?"
"Yes, all our armor is equipped with laser comms, provided we maintain a clear line of sight, but it's pretty short range. Not sure if can even hit orbital range. However, we can pinpoint the location of the jamming signal itself by pure energy output."
"We don't have much choice at this point. We need to neutralize the jammer to reconnect with everyone else. In the meantime, I can still feel their general position in the Force - they're still breathing at least."
Jedi gifted with powerful telepathic abilities, or possessing strong connections with others like in a Master-Apprentice relationship, could communicate clearly over vast distances in the Force, but the young Knight was blessed neither of those qualities.
"Alright, cloak up, then we'll hit this jammer."
Thanks to the active camouflage and stygian composite plating of the commando's Wraith Armor, they were already hard to spot with sensors or even the naked eye, but with their stealth systems fully active they were literally invisible. Finley possessed no such advanced tech, but he could telekinetically bend electromagnetic waves around his body for a similar effect. The downside was the long range communication was virtually impossible in this state, but as they had already been robbed of this capability the opposition, it didn't matter at this point.
Slowly and methodically, the Jedi and his fireteam advanced toward the jamming signal while on the lookout for ambushes and traps.
Hopefully Venthrya and the others out there would be fine until they could deal with the jammer.
Sergeant Omen
Amelia VenthyraCharacter
It appeared as if her provocation worked to some extent. First the communications went down as the other Knight was suggesting an aftermath method. A high pitched screech came from her comlink to which Amelia simply turned it off. No sooner than that, a peculiar fog rolled out on the forest floor. It was pretty thick as Amelia could hardly see clearly after 5 meters, and moisture was so thick that they were beginning to saturate her clothes and red hair. To the point where thin beads of water trickle down her brow.
There was an eerie sense of being unwelcome that crept in her mind. However, Amelia kept her resolve in check as she began to see dark shadows dancing ahead of her. The shadows revealed themselves to be a team wearing old battle armor that Amelia barely recognized. She's aware of spirits manipulating the Force to inject illusions inside of her mind. However Amelia didn't feel an invasion of her mind like she usually feels. No heavy weights pressing down on her mental willpower, no gentle pull like a current that increasingly got stronger overtime.
This led to some smugglers got ahold of some old equipment from the Clone Wars Era and trying to use the ghosts from the past to their advantage. Not a bad tactic as it seemed to have worked in the past given the rumors. No one said anything as they trained their blasters at Amelia's position, and she responded by igniting two blades of magneta that belonged to her lightsaber and shoto. Crouching low on the branch that she was on while holding both blades in front of her. Almost akin to looking upon a nexu waiting to pounce so to speak. Silence had fallen upon them, and then without warning Amelia spun around using the tree as cover as she began to descend. Not before her Saber slices through the tree, kicks off from the severed part of the tree,and then telekinetically pushes the halved tree violently at the platoon in one swift movement.
Amelia lands on another tree branch, but she proceeds to leap from tree to tree in a zigzag pattern to throw off any of the troops' aim. Of course she doesn't know that they're holographic projections, but at the very least her constant movement and using the trees as cover as she closed in on the platoon. Whether they manifest or visually crawl away from the tree being thrown at them. Amelia will drop down next to a couple as she swung both Saber and shoto at their blaster rifles. A common target amongst jedi to disable the weaponry before moving onto the next one. Even attempting to deliver a kick at one of the troops center torso to knock him into another. If she managed to get that far that is.
Sergeant Omen
Finley Dawson
There was an eerie sense of being unwelcome that crept in her mind. However, Amelia kept her resolve in check as she began to see dark shadows dancing ahead of her. The shadows revealed themselves to be a team wearing old battle armor that Amelia barely recognized. She's aware of spirits manipulating the Force to inject illusions inside of her mind. However Amelia didn't feel an invasion of her mind like she usually feels. No heavy weights pressing down on her mental willpower, no gentle pull like a current that increasingly got stronger overtime.
This led to some smugglers got ahold of some old equipment from the Clone Wars Era and trying to use the ghosts from the past to their advantage. Not a bad tactic as it seemed to have worked in the past given the rumors. No one said anything as they trained their blasters at Amelia's position, and she responded by igniting two blades of magneta that belonged to her lightsaber and shoto. Crouching low on the branch that she was on while holding both blades in front of her. Almost akin to looking upon a nexu waiting to pounce so to speak. Silence had fallen upon them, and then without warning Amelia spun around using the tree as cover as she began to descend. Not before her Saber slices through the tree, kicks off from the severed part of the tree,and then telekinetically pushes the halved tree violently at the platoon in one swift movement.
Amelia lands on another tree branch, but she proceeds to leap from tree to tree in a zigzag pattern to throw off any of the troops' aim. Of course she doesn't know that they're holographic projections, but at the very least her constant movement and using the trees as cover as she closed in on the platoon. Whether they manifest or visually crawl away from the tree being thrown at them. Amelia will drop down next to a couple as she swung both Saber and shoto at their blaster rifles. A common target amongst jedi to disable the weaponry before moving onto the next one. Even attempting to deliver a kick at one of the troops center torso to knock him into another. If she managed to get that far that is.
Sergeant Omen
Finley Dawson
Last edited:
Sergeant Omen
Arc Trooper Sergeant of the 41st Elite Corps
TAG: Finley Dawson,
Amelia Venthyra
Omen watched from the protection of a hunting blind that he had set up to look like a boulder. A small dot on the horizon jump from tree to tree, getting closer by second as his "ghostly" platoon advanced in lockstep towards the threat. She was talented, he would give her that. The Trooper he expected she was at least a Knight. It would be interesting to see what she made of his ghostly hoard.
He didn't have to wait for long as she craved her way through the tree with her purple blade and hurled it towards his troops. The trunk went through the holograms with injury unsurprisingly, smashing into the ground with brutal force. It was a sign that he shouldn't mess with her... too much... The impact of the log into the ground made some of the fog disband, making the legs of his troopers disappear before more fog from his machines took the old mist's place. His troopers of course didn't fire on the Jedi because they physically couldn't but they did surround her, their guns aimed at the female's head even as her blades swung through the projections. He activated his comlink and spoke in the moaning voice one last time. "THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE! LEAVE NOW WHILE YOU STILL CAN!" Omen chuckled to himself as he finished his warning. This was more entertainment than he could have ever hoped to see. He couldn't wait to see what happened next.
Alor of Clan Gred, Mando'ad'jetii
Finley Dawson
Amelia Venthyra
Sergeant Omen
Mig had decided to follow Finley's team. Right now he was just hoping his vod were ok. The Mandalorian followed them from the back, hearing the other Jedi talk mention something before hearing the comms jam. He looked at the others, slowly reaching to put his hand to the ground. Since he began to make use of Alter Environment, the mando'ad'jetii had attempted to find new uses for the skill, perhaps even in ways that made up for areas in the Force he was lacking in. Sadly, it didn't really help. He couldn't make out anything. Guess he'd need more training on that front. He then watched as the Finley and his troops seemed to vanish.
"Fancy. Let's see if you guys can keep up." Mig would quickly duck into the brush, keeping his eyes peeled. Something felt... off here.
Amelia Venthyra
Sergeant Omen
Mig had decided to follow Finley's team. Right now he was just hoping his vod were ok. The Mandalorian followed them from the back, hearing the other Jedi talk mention something before hearing the comms jam. He looked at the others, slowly reaching to put his hand to the ground. Since he began to make use of Alter Environment, the mando'ad'jetii had attempted to find new uses for the skill, perhaps even in ways that made up for areas in the Force he was lacking in. Sadly, it didn't really help. He couldn't make out anything. Guess he'd need more training on that front. He then watched as the Finley and his troops seemed to vanish.
"Fancy. Let's see if you guys can keep up." Mig would quickly duck into the brush, keeping his eyes peeled. Something felt... off here.
"Fancy," Sergeant Kodi repeated with a chuckle. "Our armor is nearly 20 years old, and it's based off of beskar'gam."
The 228th was one of the oldest units in the Concord, originally hailing from the Galactic Republic years before its downfall. Like many GR soldiers, they had transitioned to the Silver Jedi as one of the Republic's natural successors. Generations of commandos had long been cycled in and out of the unit, but they still sported the venerable Waith Mk 2 armor of their predecessors, advanced armor which was still impressive even in the 860s. There was no beating a classic.
"It certainly smells like it's 20 years old," Finley quipped while scanning the clearing before them for any traps. "Gonna treat you all to the dry cleaners after this operation."
"Speaking of the operation..." Finley continued, turning his attention to Gred. "Everything just gets weirder by the minute. We started out by running search parties for the Covenant team sent here, and now we're hunting for jammers. Riff raff like spice smugglers on the frontier usually don't have that kind of tech. No telling what the other teams are dealing with at the moment. Any theories on what happened? I just find it hard to believe that any Mandalorian bounty hunter could have been taken down without a peep."
Sergeant Omen
Amelia Venthyra
Mig Gred
The 228th was one of the oldest units in the Concord, originally hailing from the Galactic Republic years before its downfall. Like many GR soldiers, they had transitioned to the Silver Jedi as one of the Republic's natural successors. Generations of commandos had long been cycled in and out of the unit, but they still sported the venerable Waith Mk 2 armor of their predecessors, advanced armor which was still impressive even in the 860s. There was no beating a classic.
"It certainly smells like it's 20 years old," Finley quipped while scanning the clearing before them for any traps. "Gonna treat you all to the dry cleaners after this operation."
"Speaking of the operation..." Finley continued, turning his attention to Gred. "Everything just gets weirder by the minute. We started out by running search parties for the Covenant team sent here, and now we're hunting for jammers. Riff raff like spice smugglers on the frontier usually don't have that kind of tech. No telling what the other teams are dealing with at the moment. Any theories on what happened? I just find it hard to believe that any Mandalorian bounty hunter could have been taken down without a peep."
Sergeant Omen
Amelia Venthyra
Mig GredCharacter
It was strange as even spirits would react more violently after getting half a tree thrown at them. Even as she dropped down to slice through a couple of the troopers' guns, her blades just passed straight through without any resistance or damage. Even if these were the scoundrels, they would have fired at her when an opportunity presented itself. Especially when said Jedi has a lightsaber within reach of them. So she starts to doubt that the platoon she saw before her eyes were no more than phantoms. Images of the past so to speak.
Amelia, not answering the voice, shuts off her lightsabers as the air around her begins to churn. Causing the fog to swirl around her before a bubble of violent force erupts from her. Capable of making trees bend and uprooting small plants as the Force would have sent the troops back if they were real. The sphere of force had also tossed the fog up to become thicker. Not that it would affect much to something with infrared vision, but it would hopefully affect it to some extent. Either way Amelia uses this chance to rapidly move under the guise of the fog masking her presence from normal visual contact. Using the trees to cover her from what she believed to be the real one.
Reaching out in the force, Amelia detects multiple small creatures, but one presence stood out a little. It was faint, but someone was a bit more sensitive to the Force and they were close. Amelia stows her shoto to pick up a small rock as she continues to try to hide within the trees. Even jumping up to the tall branches and using the canopy to hide her presence even further. If she's able to get closer to the source, she'd take the time to scan for the presence with both her eyes and sensing through the Force to pin down the source. If anything she'll toss her small rock in the general vicinity to see if she can get a reaction from her vantage point.
Sergeant Omen
Mig Gred
Finley Dawson
Amelia, not answering the voice, shuts off her lightsabers as the air around her begins to churn. Causing the fog to swirl around her before a bubble of violent force erupts from her. Capable of making trees bend and uprooting small plants as the Force would have sent the troops back if they were real. The sphere of force had also tossed the fog up to become thicker. Not that it would affect much to something with infrared vision, but it would hopefully affect it to some extent. Either way Amelia uses this chance to rapidly move under the guise of the fog masking her presence from normal visual contact. Using the trees to cover her from what she believed to be the real one.
Reaching out in the force, Amelia detects multiple small creatures, but one presence stood out a little. It was faint, but someone was a bit more sensitive to the Force and they were close. Amelia stows her shoto to pick up a small rock as she continues to try to hide within the trees. Even jumping up to the tall branches and using the canopy to hide her presence even further. If she's able to get closer to the source, she'd take the time to scan for the presence with both her eyes and sensing through the Force to pin down the source. If anything she'll toss her small rock in the general vicinity to see if she can get a reaction from her vantage point.
Sergeant Omen
Mig Gred
Finley DawsonSergeant Omen
Arc Trooper Sergeant of the 41st Elite Corps
Omen watched on with a raised eyebrow as the Knight stopped, turning off her purple lightsticks of death and standing still while his brother's spirit's stood around her, their blasters supposedly ready to fire. He got his answer when a large burst of force energy threw him to the ground and cracking the tree next to his little hiding spot in half, sending native birds flying in all directions with alarmed tweeting. When he had got back to his feet and looked out of the small hole in the blind, all he could see was the fog. He didn't see any sign of the Jedi in the immediate area and unfortunately, his hud wasn't equipped with infrared vision so he couldn't detect the Jedi in the trees. All he saw was a damaged forest that the Wookies were probably going to give the Sliver Jedi hell over in many a letter saying why were the Jedi cutting through their sacred forest for no reason, an issue was probably was going to land on the plate of
Kadan Scipora
one day soon to solve. Well, at least his holograms had managed to scare the Jedi off. Now he had to walk out and check just how many trees and bushes he would have to replant.As the Trooper walked out of his hidey-hole, he deactivated his jammer and the fog machines that made his brothers come alive, giving the spirits one last salute before turning their holoprojectors off as well. The Jedi's probe had been a good test of his defense systems and while they wouldn't fool someone wise enough to catch on, they might give would-be thieves and pirates enough of a scare to shake them in their boots, giving Omen time to respond to the threat from his mountain home. The only thing that got the Clone out of his thinking trance was when a small rock hit the ground near him, leading him to look out into the treeline and wondering if that Jedi was running off to report to a Master or if she had never left at all.
Last edited:
Jhira Mereel
Character
POLITICAL REGION: Silver Jedi Concord
LOCATION: Coastal region, Kashyyyk
Objective: Rescue Mandos, burn out spice den, yell at Omen. <3
TAGS: [
Sergeant Omen
] [ Finley Dawson ] [
Wirewolf88
] [ @Amelia Venthyria ] [
Mig Gred
] [
Kadan Scipora
]
Spice smuggles were a mixed bag, everything from ruthless Black Sun to colonists needing any kind of healing or medicine they could get. Even those made from spice. But the idea that any single group of smugglers could cause a whole unit of prepared, well-equipped Mandalorian Warriors disappear without a trace was extremely disturbing.
Mando’ade in trouble were always a reliable lure for Jhira, so she found herself flying with Mig’s Silver Jedi Concord, looking for the lost ones. Word came over the COMMs of an interdiction squad in orbit; apparently they were blockading the whole planet.
Despite the 50,000 credit bounty (and Jhira could use the money - Nexu were expensive, these days), Jhira’s priority was the missing team. Where were they? Mandos were pretty good at vanishing when they wanted to, this was true. But it could be spectacularly difficult to disappear an armed, prepared squad of them without leaving large holes in the landscape.
And she hadn’t found any sign of a major firefight.
Dawson requested a sit-rep, and Jhira was about to reply with a simple, no joy, when her sensors pinged. It was a faint trace, smaller than she’d expected but it was more than she’d found so far. Running the the Echoy’la Sun’s complex sensor suite over the grid coordinate to refine her data, she nodded in satisfaction. Oh, yes, it looked like Knight Amelia Venthyria, callsign “Silverblade” was right on top of it.
COM to Team: ⌁ This is Captain Jhira Mereel of the Echoy’la Sun. I’ve got a strange sensor reading at 5h23m36sN by 42h3m56sE; looks like your ghost has dug in beneath you, Silverblade. Stay frosty.⌁
The soft lilt of the outer rim and the cadence of her Mando’a-colored phrases made even Basic almost beautiful.
Shortly thereafter, an ECM field spun up, Jamming communicators and things grew tense. Prime doctrine when hunting Force Users was to isolate them; not a good sign. “Mia, spin up the Ranger Subspace Transceiver and Comm Unit booster; get our teams back on COMMs.”
Jhira eased the nose of her ship down, diving deeper into the thick, lovely atmosphere of the forest world, hoping she’d get there in time. Or that it was the Mando squad, playing some complex joke upon the Jedi. She didn’t want to have to tell Mig she’d let one of his people die.
“Aunt, the Jamming just ... Stopped. Like it was luring everyone to the spice den!” Mia said, still localizing coordinates on the jammer.
LOCATION: Coastal region, Kashyyyk
Objective: Rescue Mandos, burn out spice den, yell at Omen. <3
TAGS: [
Sergeant Omen
] [ Finley Dawson ] [
Wirewolf88
] [ @Amelia Venthyria ] [
Mig Gred
] [
Kadan Scipora
]Spice smuggles were a mixed bag, everything from ruthless Black Sun to colonists needing any kind of healing or medicine they could get. Even those made from spice. But the idea that any single group of smugglers could cause a whole unit of prepared, well-equipped Mandalorian Warriors disappear without a trace was extremely disturbing.
Mando’ade in trouble were always a reliable lure for Jhira, so she found herself flying with Mig’s Silver Jedi Concord, looking for the lost ones. Word came over the COMMs of an interdiction squad in orbit; apparently they were blockading the whole planet.
Despite the 50,000 credit bounty (and Jhira could use the money - Nexu were expensive, these days), Jhira’s priority was the missing team. Where were they? Mandos were pretty good at vanishing when they wanted to, this was true. But it could be spectacularly difficult to disappear an armed, prepared squad of them without leaving large holes in the landscape.
And she hadn’t found any sign of a major firefight.
Dawson requested a sit-rep, and Jhira was about to reply with a simple, no joy, when her sensors pinged. It was a faint trace, smaller than she’d expected but it was more than she’d found so far. Running the the Echoy’la Sun’s complex sensor suite over the grid coordinate to refine her data, she nodded in satisfaction. Oh, yes, it looked like Knight Amelia Venthyria, callsign “Silverblade” was right on top of it.
COM to Team: ⌁ This is Captain Jhira Mereel of the Echoy’la Sun. I’ve got a strange sensor reading at 5h23m36sN by 42h3m56sE; looks like your ghost has dug in beneath you, Silverblade. Stay frosty.⌁
The soft lilt of the outer rim and the cadence of her Mando’a-colored phrases made even Basic almost beautiful.
Shortly thereafter, an ECM field spun up, Jamming communicators and things grew tense. Prime doctrine when hunting Force Users was to isolate them; not a good sign. “Mia, spin up the Ranger Subspace Transceiver and Comm Unit booster; get our teams back on COMMs.”
Jhira eased the nose of her ship down, diving deeper into the thick, lovely atmosphere of the forest world, hoping she’d get there in time. Or that it was the Mando squad, playing some complex joke upon the Jedi. She didn’t want to have to tell Mig she’d let one of his people die.
“Aunt, the Jamming just ... Stopped. Like it was luring everyone to the spice den!” Mia said, still localizing coordinates on the jammer.
Alor of Clan Gred, Mando'ad'jetii
Finley Dawson
Amelia Venthyra
Jhira Mereel
Sergeant Omen
Mig chuckled a bit as he heard Finley explain the armor was a whole two decades old, and was actually based one beskar'gam. Interesting. He smiled a bit under his helmet, nodding before speaking up.
"Just cause it's 20 years old doesn't make it less fancy. I've seen centuries old tech beat the new shiny thing." He then looked around, taking a breath as he thought about the situation. This was weird indeed. So much didn't seem to make sense. He took a breath before eying Finley.
"Weird is an understatement. That jammer that was going on could answer it, but.... This can't just be smugglers. It just doesn't add up. I think they trusted whoever was here, and.... Well when you have your guard down..... Wait.... I'm not hearing static anymore."
Amelia Venthyra
Jhira Mereel
Sergeant Omen
Mig chuckled a bit as he heard Finley explain the armor was a whole two decades old, and was actually based one beskar'gam. Interesting. He smiled a bit under his helmet, nodding before speaking up.
"Just cause it's 20 years old doesn't make it less fancy. I've seen centuries old tech beat the new shiny thing." He then looked around, taking a breath as he thought about the situation. This was weird indeed. So much didn't seem to make sense. He took a breath before eying Finley.
"Weird is an understatement. That jammer that was going on could answer it, but.... This can't just be smugglers. It just doesn't add up. I think they trusted whoever was here, and.... Well when you have your guard down..... Wait.... I'm not hearing static anymore."
(Small note: Sergeant Kodi was the one describing his armor's age. I color code the dialogue of NPCs)
"So in the end it's all about the operator rather than the gear," Sergeant Kodi replied to Gred. "I bet in his heyday, Boba Fett was a nightmare even with a rusty spoon."
"That's why I like blades," Corporal Pattin chimed in. "This fancy smancy kit is always finnicky even after little splash of water, but a knife never jams or runs out of ammo. Quiet. If there's a screw up, it's all operator error. Just need to sharpen it a bit here and there."
"True, but your knife can't instaslice bread into toast like my saber." Finley teased, grinning though he was still functionally invisible.
The static popping in Finley's ear fizziled out. It appeared they were reconnected to the network, but long range communication was still out for Finley and his unit as they still remained cloaked on the advance, the warping fields causing signal distortion.
"I don't hear it either," Finley confirmed. "Could be the jammer is down, but I still want to check it out the site real quick, then we can head over to the Den. Gred, can you act as relay and see if anyone else on the ground had reconnected to the battle net? See where they're situated if you can?"
There may no longer been any more interference, but there was now a growing fog began to envelop as the team they grew closer to their final location. Trading one obstacle for another.
"That's new," he whispered with a cord of mild annoyance in his tone. "Tread carefully boys, not much farther now."
It was always the last klick that spelled the most trouble.
Sergeant Omen
Amelia Venthyra
Mig Gred
Jhira Mereel
"So in the end it's all about the operator rather than the gear," Sergeant Kodi replied to Gred. "I bet in his heyday, Boba Fett was a nightmare even with a rusty spoon."
"That's why I like blades," Corporal Pattin chimed in. "This fancy smancy kit is always finnicky even after little splash of water, but a knife never jams or runs out of ammo. Quiet. If there's a screw up, it's all operator error. Just need to sharpen it a bit here and there."
"True, but your knife can't instaslice bread into toast like my saber." Finley teased, grinning though he was still functionally invisible.
The static popping in Finley's ear fizziled out. It appeared they were reconnected to the network, but long range communication was still out for Finley and his unit as they still remained cloaked on the advance, the warping fields causing signal distortion.
"I don't hear it either," Finley confirmed. "Could be the jammer is down, but I still want to check it out the site real quick, then we can head over to the Den. Gred, can you act as relay and see if anyone else on the ground had reconnected to the battle net? See where they're situated if you can?"
There may no longer been any more interference, but there was now a growing fog began to envelop as the team they grew closer to their final location. Trading one obstacle for another.
"That's new," he whispered with a cord of mild annoyance in his tone. "Tread carefully boys, not much farther now."
It was always the last klick that spelled the most trouble.
Sergeant Omen
Amelia Venthyra
Mig Gred
Jhira MereelSergeant Omen
Arc Trooper Sergeant of the 41st Elite Corps
Omen was still wondering where the Jedi was when the rumbling started. When he looked up, he saw the squad of Mandolarian bounty hunters run out of the woods and blast across the stream with their jet packs, screaming in drunken terror racing away from some unseen threat. And then he saw a monster ran out of the grove before forcing its way through the at a gallop towards the squad that must have angered it somehow. Oh for the love of... The Beast was a scarred Terentatek that looked like the runt of its herd, standing at 11 feet tall. It still was a massive creature however and the moment it smelled two force users to devour, its roar shook the trees and made their leaves cascade down to the ground below before it used its powerful arms to push its body forward towards the two force users. It looked like the fun and games had finally stopped. Now it was time to get down to the business of saving people, just like a true hero would.
Omen charged to meet the beast head-on and lept, trying to get over its head and onto its back. The beast only bothered to swat him down from the air into one of the trees and goes towards the more powerful force signature. Well, that wasn't going to fly for the clone. He knew what the Jedi would do to it. They kill it for the good of the galaxy. He couldn't allow that, he couldn't allow another innocent creature to die under his watch. Even with his now newly sprained ribs aching in pain, he rose to his feet again and ran towards the beast's back, jumping over the beast's many spikes and sitting on his head. Please say that witch in that animal taming Holocron that I watched is right...While dodging the beast's fists as they tried to grab him and throw him off his seat, Omen calmed his mind and tried to communicate to the beast with the force. Please... I know you are hungry... I can give you food... Nice, really yummy food... You just need to stop attacking people and then I can get it for you...
Finley Dawson
Amelia Venthyra
Mig Gred
Jhira Mereel
Last edited:
Jhira Mereel
Character
POLITICAL REGION: Silver Jedi Concord
LOCATION: Coastal region, Kashyyyk
Objective: Rescue Mandos, burn out spice den, yell at Omen. <3
TAGS: [ OPEN ] [
Sergeant Omen
] [ Finley Dawson ] [
Wirewolf88
] [ @Amelia Venthyria ] [
Mig Gred
] [
Kadan Scipora
]
“OH, Sith-lord-on-taost! Nonono … Haran in a hand basket. You little Shebla!”
Mia Mereel
did not stop swearing, even as her fingers flashed over the controls at her station, throwing up a holo image to the main screen, tracking the senselessly hollering Mandalorians.
Jhira slammed her helmet down, eyes locked on, as Omen, her Omen, her lost baby cousin from hundreds of yeas in the past went toe-to-toe with a monster. A vast, huge 11’ tall monster. What was he doing? Fear slammed through Jhira, harsh and unrelenting. Pride though; a terrible bitter pride. What a worthy son to Jango Fett he was!
If only he didn’t feel so honor bound to prove it.
“Jherel, you have the con!” Not waiting for the formal replay, Jhira jettisoned from her chair, slid to the nearest escape hatch (right on the bridge) and launched herself into the atmosphere, head down, free falling through bitter turbulence with a wind shear that scored even her Beskar
Not the recommended way to leave a space ship.
What was Omen doing here? Why had he been hiding the other Mandos? Was he trying to start a war with the Silver Jedi? Well. If he was, she knew what side she’d be on.
On a private, encrypted channel she hailed the Arc Trooper who thought he was a Knight-errant.
“Just what did you do, to make those Mandos run? Most would die, before showing any fear at all.” Amusement almost, almost masked her bloody terror over what Omen was doing. “And are we going to war with the Silver Jedi, here, or are you just having fun?” And would any stuffy, serious-minded Jedi even understand a Mandalorian’s sense of fun? None that she had met, anyway.
Mia data dumped the info on the creature into her HUD, and managed a small Visual Feed of what was happening with Omen. Jhira focused on dead-stick piloting, letting the computer genius sort through for weaknesses, with the occasional glance at Omen’s vital statistics.
A proximity warning pinged, and Jhira triggered both ani-grave belt and jetpack at maximum force. She slammed from terminal velocity to merely falling very fast, bruises erupting all over her body. Yeah, that was going to hurt, later.
Now she glanced at the visual feed, just as the beastie blocked Omen’s charge, and catapulted him aside with devastating ease.
Jhira fought to keep an even tone, and to NOT yell. Yet. “Like your new friend; looking to earn a Clan Sigil?” A Mandalorian always a respected a bloody apex-predator.
Though she’d like the creature a whole lot better if it was six feet under.
“If you need a hand with him, ner vod, I should be dropping on your coordinates in about 30 seconds.” An eternity, ini a life and death conflict.
But Omen went suddenly, abruptly still.
So did the beastie.
Oh, shebla.
LOCATION: Coastal region, Kashyyyk
Objective: Rescue Mandos, burn out spice den, yell at Omen. <3
TAGS: [ OPEN ] [
Sergeant Omen
] [ Finley Dawson ] [
Wirewolf88
] [ @Amelia Venthyria ] [
Mig Gred
] [
Kadan Scipora
]“OH, Sith-lord-on-taost! Nonono … Haran in a hand basket. You little Shebla!”
Mia Mereel
did not stop swearing, even as her fingers flashed over the controls at her station, throwing up a holo image to the main screen, tracking the senselessly hollering Mandalorians. Jhira slammed her helmet down, eyes locked on, as Omen, her Omen, her lost baby cousin from hundreds of yeas in the past went toe-to-toe with a monster. A vast, huge 11’ tall monster. What was he doing? Fear slammed through Jhira, harsh and unrelenting. Pride though; a terrible bitter pride. What a worthy son to Jango Fett he was!
If only he didn’t feel so honor bound to prove it.
“Jherel, you have the con!” Not waiting for the formal replay, Jhira jettisoned from her chair, slid to the nearest escape hatch (right on the bridge) and launched herself into the atmosphere, head down, free falling through bitter turbulence with a wind shear that scored even her Beskar
Not the recommended way to leave a space ship.
What was Omen doing here? Why had he been hiding the other Mandos? Was he trying to start a war with the Silver Jedi? Well. If he was, she knew what side she’d be on.
On a private, encrypted channel she hailed the Arc Trooper who thought he was a Knight-errant.
“Just what did you do, to make those Mandos run? Most would die, before showing any fear at all.” Amusement almost, almost masked her bloody terror over what Omen was doing. “And are we going to war with the Silver Jedi, here, or are you just having fun?” And would any stuffy, serious-minded Jedi even understand a Mandalorian’s sense of fun? None that she had met, anyway.
Mia data dumped the info on the creature into her HUD, and managed a small Visual Feed of what was happening with Omen. Jhira focused on dead-stick piloting, letting the computer genius sort through for weaknesses, with the occasional glance at Omen’s vital statistics.
A proximity warning pinged, and Jhira triggered both ani-grave belt and jetpack at maximum force. She slammed from terminal velocity to merely falling very fast, bruises erupting all over her body. Yeah, that was going to hurt, later.
Now she glanced at the visual feed, just as the beastie blocked Omen’s charge, and catapulted him aside with devastating ease.
Jhira fought to keep an even tone, and to NOT yell. Yet. “Like your new friend; looking to earn a Clan Sigil?” A Mandalorian always a respected a bloody apex-predator.
Though she’d like the creature a whole lot better if it was six feet under.
“If you need a hand with him, ner vod, I should be dropping on your coordinates in about 30 seconds.” An eternity, ini a life and death conflict.
But Omen went suddenly, abruptly still.
So did the beastie.
Oh, shebla.