Bucketheads vs. Trash Pandas [Mandalorian Empire Invasion of Coalition-Controlled Utapau (Hex 53-N)]

[Tusk]

Deep breaths. Udesii. Calm. There was a blast door, likely beskar, coming at you with an angry armored super soldier on the other end. The dampner aerosol was almost dispersed now and the traveling blast door was helping clear the way. He was sure there were Mandos shooting at the soldier, but he knew as well as they did that it would do nothing to this walking tank. Kark, they took a hit to the chest from the Keldabe Cannon and barely flinched.

"Well, if there was a way to go," he grumbled as he trundled forward and tossed his shotgun to the side. He gave himself a shake, took a sturdy stance, one foot behind the other, dusted off his hands and clenched his butt cloaca for the impending doom. The door slammed into him, pushing him across the hangar. He dug deep, deep into that forbidden place. He felt the souls of his ancestors flow through him. The Manda would call for his soul one day, but today it gave him strength beyond measure. He gritted his teeth and let out a fierce roar as he engaged his mag boots to stop the skidding and let the Manda give strength to his being. Durasteel and Mandalorians flew past as the soldier pushed them towards the ship's inards.

He met with equal force, and suddenly he wasn't moving. Inches away from another blast door. Inches away from becoming a Gerosian sandwich.


[member="Fabula Caromed"]

 

[Bryce Bantam]

​

Location: Pau City Landing pads​

Objective: Yeah... that city may need some help​

Friend-a-mies: [member="Brennan Cabrol"] | [member="Ara Zambrano"]​

Allies: [member="Leo Vandermolen"] | [member="Raveem Va'ah"]​

​

Music!​

"Some people seem to think, They always know what's best for you​

Their little minds try to create a world to keep you still​

The bolt is thrown, the cage is locked, You saw this, don't you lie​

At first you cry and then you hate those people stole your will"​

​

As the two ship came to rest on the pad before Bryce his mind was already else where. In the minutes it had taken them to land reports of the attack were already being fed to the senior judge of the coalition. Vids of great metal beasts with lasers and beskar plated monsters in "T" shaped visors streamed across his screen. It was a massive raid, brutal and senseless. Flecks of red and gold were now starting to show in what were once crystal green eyes. Hands once playfully holding the reins of his new mount were now clenched so tightly to the image device that its plastic housing began to crack and splinter. His rage was palpable, and flowed around him like hot air around a fire. The warrior would be needed over the doctor once more, at least till they could drive this skum from Utapau.

He sent messengers to both ship to collect those who had come to see him. Droid of an ancient make that would escort his guests to the stables. Their was little time now, he was needed else ware but could just leave no matter how much he wanted to. When they arrived they would find him dressing into proper battle armor, and directing for new mounts to be brought forward, one for each of them.

 

[Tal Vizsla]

Location: Pau City
Allies: Mandalorian Empire
Enemies: The Other Guys, soon [member="Zesiro"]


It was only moments after [member="Yasha Mantis"] and [member="Malika Mantis"] took cover that a thunderous crash resounded across the platform, announcing the arrival of Tal and his mount. The beast wasted no time opening fire on [member="Davin Skirata"] and those near him, laying down a withering hail of cover fire as Tal himself dismounted.

He said nothing as he moved forward, only drew and raised a Grahala'shok to open fire on the defenders. He made no particular target of any of them, instead simply trying to keep them occupied and pull their attention off of Shukalar and the girl she held. Then surprise of surprises! It worked! Angry orange welts began to spring up on his armor with increasing frequency, and it wasn't long before his internal systems began to complain about the heat.

Leaving his droid to mantain the cover fire, he shifted his motion and dove with surprising agility toward the same cover hiding Malika and Yasha, tucking and rolling up beside the two. Thin tendrils of smoke rose from the slowly fading scorch marks on his chest and helm, and he looked down to regard the youngest warrior. He could feel the rage boiling inside her, wholly vengeful and uncontained.

"I can help, if she wants."

 

[Fabula Caromed]

Location: Hip-deep in ridiculous
Objective: DPS rotation
Enemies: Let's face it, it's just [member="Tusk"] for now

Huh.

Fabula was having a weird day. She'd woken up to a call to action. When she heard who it was she'd be fighting, she'd thought and breathed righteous, bloody fury. The sort of frenzy that a Sith marauder would find a little over the top. The ship ride in had been plenty of silent hatred and contempt to supplement that unfathomable, murderous anger. Then, after landing, there was clarity of purpose. That, on its own, would have been enough to say she had an emotionally exhausting day.

But when she pushed into something only to have a surprisingly similar force pushing back? There was a bit of a disconnect. Some whiplash, as she experienced something she hadn't expected. Apprehension, she'd prepared for. Hesitation, she'd begrudgingly accepted the possibility of. Those things would have been fine. This wasn't that. She fell excitement. There was someone, something on this useless eyesore of a maggot nest that had enough oomph to stand up to her.

It was a good thing she was wearing a full helmet, because her psychotically eager grin would have been downright disturbing to look at.

That glee was lost a moment later. Some of the vermin she'd neglected to squash earlier were firing at her now, and now that she was pushing out of the smoke [member="Connory"] had laid down, the blasters weren't petering out before they hit her. Fortunately, her armor held pretty well against simple rifle fire, but she wouldn't be able to claim that forever. Only an idiot ignores a future threat just because it isn't a current one.

https://soundcloud.com/wiz-jesus/kill-la-kill-ost-harime-nui-v2

Despite her irritation, Fabula had to try very hard not to giggle with sheer excitement. Still pressing against that door frame with her left arm and shoulder, she cycled her breath. Fresh life in her longs. A fresh connection to the living world around her. The deck was strong - so was she. The air was charged - so was she. When she had relaxed enough, Fabula tensed the right side of her body from the ground up her leg, her hip, the right arm still holding that hammer. Then she released her hold on the door...

And smashed it with the power hammer.

He was wearing beskar. And super strong. He'd be fiiiine.

When she was done with the swing, Fabula reached back and hurled her hammer with every bit of her might into the biggest grouping of initiates she could find. The impact triggered both the repulsor and the shockwave generator, creating a massive burst the moment she put the hammer down.

"Gar nayc'gev ni!" she shouted back to the scattered children she'd once again terrorized with localized seismic activity. Then, immediately, turned back to the door she'd just brutalized a fourth time and tensed herself, ready for whatever came next. "Jii ni ven hiibi ner kando be agol."

 

[Julius Sedaire]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=foDgTn2CS-o​

Pau City
Ground Level
Allies: ORC and a Bettle Borg ([member=[/FONT]"Orn Pharr"])

"I fought to clean out the filth. To fix my people. And what rose up in it's place was worse and even more twisted. I am not so sure now, of the wisdom of my path and choice. I cleared away one card, and the entire house has fallen in on itself. And my mind is not whole, so I fear I am not up to the task..."

The Sith were the threat, always, in his mind. Time and again they deceived, belittled, and used his people. If they paid, they could buy their services, sure. The Mando'ade must eat and make a living. Honor was not some cross to die on. But this? No. This was a pack of lies and unknowing, unwitting servitude. The Sith, the Jedi... All of them did not outright deserve Mandalorian ire, but all of them did deserve suspicion. And all of them did require proving themselves. a carte blanche allegiance was stupifying and reeked of some backroom dealings. What Ra had wrought, what his sham had pushed him to in the first place, was pure madness. Indiscriminate slaughter, psychosis, rabid hatred and fear. This was not the future he had sought to forge in his actions and by his thought. But, something the Neti said seemed to be sticking in his mind, echoing in his thoughts and stirring something within. His head had dropped during this, but as the one phrase came back to him, he began to sir, a flicker of hope.

"I can not sway their minds with words, nor can I stand in peace as you do, even if I might try and wish to on occasion. The Force has given me certain talents. But, as you say... Is it not worth fighting for? If even a flicker of light remains, is it not worth it? I sought to burn out the chaff of my people and make them stronger. Perhaps this is but the continuation of that, and what comes after the cult of personality will be a true chance at the beginning of something. And they will need both voices in order to truly become something more than what we are."

With a sudden glance, he saw drop pods streaking down, and a twitch of his arm saw the Shacklebolt come up on high ready, scanning. He could probably take a drop pod out with this glorious instrument of keening death, but there was hell enough. There was no burning desire to shed a single drop of Mandalorian blood not needing to be shed. They must become more than honor bound saps or knuckle-dragging brutes. Ember had seen that. Draco had too. So had Arrbi and the others. Now it was left unto him to try and help shepherd his people on to better things. Better, hopefully, than even what he could bring.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

Location: Pau City Mid Levels
Allies: Mando’ade Team Beskad [member="Vilaz Munin"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Malika Mantis"] | [member="Calina Ovmar"] | [member="Beskadala Ordo"] | [member="Koda Fett"] | [member="Quoron"] Vizsla | [member="Kal Ordo"] | [member="Tal Vizsla"]
Enemies: ORC [member="Sanya Val Swift"] | [member="Ayhia Katar"]
Theme: Mens Jeg Sover by Ingrid Olava

[video][/video][video]https://youtu.be/ZNRcKg4DKCM[/video]​

As the eagle turned to the wolf, Yasha dug her knees in Malika’s back, as Yasha fired scattershot into ORC defence. Bes’uliik swung through, the troops cascading behind Katlaydr’s spearpoint into Pau City.

Udesii. Calm.​

Malika’s wolf-form shifted and Yasha leapt forward, her MF44 clanking to its’ mag-rest on her back. Twin katar unsheathed on either wrist as the banshee of Manda’yaim let momentum carry her into the throat and ribcage of an enemy. Forward motion would have carried her to the ground, but for the protective arms yanking her behind cover.

Yasha roared and pulled her arm back, about to thrust her katar in Malika’s face. Blaster fire peppered around them. The Cuir Rekr’s new Famine was blind to the light and crackle in the air. She was blind to everything but the tunnel of her grief, bottled and held tight to her chest until a moment where Yasha had no task at hand, but to survive. Later, she would be forever grateful for Ambrose Vizsla shutting off her comm signal the second Yasha got twitchy.

“Let… me go.” Gasping breaths cascaded out of the berserker. Her fingers unclenched and the katar slid back into the wrist sheathes. The bellowing rage of her Mantis blood left her bereft of initial comprehension to Malika’s words.

“Give me a target!” Yasha struggled against Malika’s hold, attempting to break cover, point her shotgun and fire. “I don’t need to calm down!”

Yasha twitched and pushed against Malika’s maternal hold. “Give me a target! I need a target!!”

She screamed with teeth clenched in anger, as another blaster bolt triggered her HUD’s proximity warnings. Auntie Malika wanted her to close her eyes, block out the battlefield and fight from a place of calm.

“Breathe like Mama’s not?! Don’t… I need… a target.” Yasha panted out of hyperventilating lungs. All she knew was the scalding plasma of survival running through her veins. Life outside the pulsation of the fight was as grey and foreboding as the ash cloud over Mandalore. [member="Preliat Mantis"]’ daughter lived in a perpetual state of combat to prove her worth, to her soldiers, to the Mando’ade, to Ra, to the Galaxy which could not sense a Force Dead collection of atoms and flesh encased in beskar and electronics.

Her buy’ce pressed against Malika’s chest first as another rejection. Auntie Malika promised a life outside the agony of silence. She promised riches of spirit Yasha could not fathom. Yasha’s arms gripped around Malika’s chest. Choking inhales shook into her lungs, as the girl shut her eyes. Every instinct in her body and spirit rose in a spastic din that shutting one’s eyes in battle was how one died. [member="Tal Vizsla"] rolled in, Yasha’s HUD pinging his arrival.

The Umbaran. Knowing his reputation during the Civil War, Yasha remembered his voice. Yes, he was trustworthy. “Rrrggh! Do it so I can fight!”

What would push Yasha Mantis, when the grief was gone? Would it be the instinct for survival? Would it be Manda’yaim Herself, the Great Mother and the Mando’ade? Would there be nothing but the silence of a grave her father’d dug for his daughter, then covered over when the impossible crawled through the Warlock Gate?

To fight was to exist. Inside the newly minted Katlaydr was no fount of pleasant memories upon which to break open and let flow like milk and honey. Her life was predominated by the fright of her mother, and Yasha’s rejection of it. The Netherworld’s violent pulse was Yasha’s Northern compass point. Although she was 13, each day was a threat upon her identity as a living being. Moments of calm were underlined by lessons on sustainability, recovery and the cunning it would take to stand as the eventual Sole Ruler.

Tal’s consciousness would be capable of seeing the swirling quarry of grief, and a powerful need to prove one’s existence by yelling into the dark. She was a being without context for all good things, and yet she was a struggling flower rising on a thin, green spindle to touch the sun and unfurl. While the potential for peace was latent in the girl’s psyche, it was locked away.

Stillness was how all great warriors, nations and ideas died. There would be no stillness within Yasha Mantis unless Tal succeeded in putting it there.

 

[Vorhi Alestrani]

Location: Pau City
Objective: Meet exotic people from far away lands, and bludgeon them.
Gear: Nice hat, a few thermal detonators, a big gourd, some brawling gloves, and a whole lot of whimsy. Also, the gourd is filled with tea.

New Friends: [member="Zesiro"] @Nok-Krah-Nin @Cotan Sar'andor
New Enemies: [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Calina Ovmar"]



[youtube]https://youtu.be/Z3ZfrCPKEqM[/youtube]



This was the might of the Sith? This was there revered leader? Their mighty, revered emperor. And of course, he had a cape. Why did these guys always do a cape? Big poofy sleeves were more fashionable after all. Still, the man looked to have little in the way of humor or decorum.



"Death?" Vorhi mused. "You know death? She at least accepts a drink when offered...." he said, sighing and dropping into a fight stance as the arrogant emperor focused the force towards him. His armored hands shone under his robes, a glistening gold, accented with blood red. "Well, if you seek to give me a boost..." as the ground burst beneath him, the monk jumped, ascending absentmindedly and twirling about in the air, shining robes flapping like some sort of particularly garish flower. The man's aura, his spirit, was intense. He grinned as he aimed to land, awaiting the next move. What a lovely dance. In all fairness, there was a see of movement, of force, or power. Ebbs and flows. In the thousands. Jedi, Mandos, Sith, and a billion other little pricks of light.



"The ground has had plenty of my blood, oh venerable emperor!" He cackled at the man. "Perhaps you should try the tea instead?" His stance was wobbly, swaying. His form fluid, like the last bit of wine in a swirling glass. This was the drunken rancor's stance. This was Vorhi's true form of battle. This was the feast of drunken Gods.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FFqb1I-hiHE​

​

Outside Crystal Mines
Allies: [member="Ijaat Mereel"] | [member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Mishel Noren"] | [member="Davin Skirata"] | [member="Ember Farseer"] | [member="Kaia Starchaser"] | [member="Damian Starchaser"]
Enemies: [member="Aryn Spar"] | [member="Shia Kryze"] | [member="Yasha Mantis"] | [member="Malika Mantis"]

"If you seek the Light you will find it my friend. Your people have always risen back from every hardship and every challenge they have been faced with. The challenge presented by this Mand'alor is no different." Orn could feel it, all encompassing darkness. A black pit of despair and depredation merging with his sense of the planet as a fell evil beset it. "I do not ask that you sway them with words, all I ask is perhaps you devote yourself to saving them as penance instead." Orn was like that, well aware of what war was, how it was fought, and what happened in it. He wished for a time that such a thing would not be so necessary for the survival of the younger peoples, but that did not prevent him from doing his duty as a Jedi.

The pair approached the entrance of the mines where the Togorian Warrior and his servants went about setting up their defenses, already confronted by those inside. The Jedi took a deep breath as he mentally prepared for battle. "I will not fight with words. I will stop them from bringing harm to the innocent and just, and then I will heal their wounds as I might any other. But first we stop them. Then we show them a different path." The Neti raised his staff and slammed it into the ground, his form writhing and slimming into a much more gaunt visage of the tree-like being that had been standing alongside the Mandalorian warrior. His presence seeped all around him, weaving into the fabric of the world he stood upon. All life aided him, just as he aided it in return, the symbiosis of their relationship permanent and unbreakable. Through him the Force flowed forth, finding those few near him and giving them the softest touch of calmness. From this flowed focus and purity of mind into those he believed to be his allies.

Now a much thinner warrior stood alongside Ijaat, his bark cracking as it solidified like Brylark wood and the reddish hardwood staff slammed into the ground once more. The Neti's voice was no longer filled with kindness and gentleness but a stern tone as an adult might have with a disobedient and insolent child. "Leave and you will not be harmed. Stay and I cannot guarantee your safety," the Jedi warned as he prepared to do battle with the Mandalorians standing between him and his allies.

 

[Preliat Mantis]

​

Allies: Mandalorian Empire l [member="Aryn Spar"] l [member="Shia Kryze"]
Enemies: [member="Joza Perl"] l ORC l I'm not calling you all Trash Pandas. I also probably missed a lot of tags. l [member="Orn Pharr"] l
Objective: WE REQUIRE MORE MINERALS l Directly Engaging: [member="Orn Pharr"]
Equipment: Beskar Tomahawk, Beskad, Crushgaunts, Preliat's Armor, Two Westar-35s, Jetpack, Wrist-Mounted Flamethrower


War does not determine who is right, only who is left.

The air outside the caves grew still, grew electric. The Mandalorians outside became silent, at least in their voices. Comms went silent for a moment- as if everyone had stopped outside to look at the same thing. And they were. The Mandalorians gathered outside the caves were looking at a single man.

Preliat Mantis.

Quietly, the chants began. It was a single word, spoken above a whisper, then it grew louder. Soon, the voices of the Mandalorians outside became unified, a chorus of angry men and women bent on a single thing: war. But they were not chanting Akaan1, they were saying another word. Ramanar2. Over. And over.

Preliat Mantis stepped forward, and rolled his shoulders forward. He could be felt by all those with the force before they even saw him. The force was said to move darkly around those who killed, or who had lost. Preliat was an abyss in the force, a tear in the fabric that binded together the universe. He had been corrupted over so many years, been subject to enough pain and misery to be simply felt.

[member="Joza Perl"] had felt him before, and the familiar sensation would be eerie for anyone who came across it. Preliat marched through his chanting men, and the Mandalorian's personification of death began to march to the caves, intent on carrying out his namesake. Preliat held his rifle across his chest, but made no announcement, no war cry, no words.

Preliat had spoken enough in his lifetime to his enemies. He had no more words to say to them, no musings, nothing. As Preliat walked, he slapped the charging handle on his rifle. The rifle hummed with power.

Preliat took his left hand off of his rifle and came near his comrade, the Togorian [member="Aryn Spar"]. He stretched his hand outward, spiked crushgaunts gesturing into the cavern network. Now Preliat only spoke to the Mandalorians, from inside the quiet safety of his Buy'ce.

"Jurkadir!"3

Preliat decided to do the smart thing and pull his rifle to his shoulder and fire at the big tree-looking thing as soon as it finished talking.



Translations:

1. Akaan - War
2. Ramanar - Death, in this case, the title of Preliat as one of Ra's Four Horseman
3. Jurkadir- To attack, in this case a command.

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

Location: Highreach Station
Objective: Take the station.
Enemies: ORC | [member="Runi Verin"]
Allies: Mandalorian Empire
Engaging: Now.

The side of his beskad slammed against the wall and the screech of metal punctured misguided attention.

"You have a mission." Ronan roared against the tide of mewling indignation and anger. "Complete it." For a moment it would seem as if those with him would ignore the order of the Alor and the Cabur, but then they re-centered their attention once more. Away from Runi and back towards slaughtering her allies, her friends, pushing back against them like a screaming tide of metal and sharp edges. Some would escape, to tell the tale, but most would fall here.

That would be the message Vilaz had hoped to send, but was too weak to commit to.

"Blood does not deny blood as easily as that, ad'ika." Vizsla growled, the crushgaunts gripping the hilt of his beskad. He was restraining himself. Barely. This had nothing to do with her opinion on Ra- while some of his were rabid dogs following at the heel of a madman... Ronan had his own thoughts. No, this was simply who Vizsla was. There was a battle here, a challenge, he wanted to meet it. He wanted to forget. Wanted to fill the void and the hunger.

Brush against the raw edges and feel.

"Flee. I will... let you go." It had nothing to do with her father. Isley had been a piss-poor example of a Mandalorian from the day he had met him. No core, no spine, always moving from this to that, giving way towards the slightest of pressure.

Kneeling had become easy for him.

No, this was for her spirit, her soul.

Runi's blood was weak. A mutt. Thin from a spineless Mandalorian father and a Zambrano schutta, but she had chosen her family at one point. Wore the armor. Spoke the language. She deserved a chance, these soulless would die, but she could yet live.

 

[Mishel Kryze]

​

ALLIES:​

[member="Ember Farseer"] | [member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Damian Starchaser"] | [member="Orn Pharr"] | [member="Davin Skirata"] | [member="Kaia Starchaser"]​

​

OPPONENTS:​

[member="Aryn Spar"] | [member="Shia Kryze"]​

​

OBJECTIVES:​

Making Calculations (Don't Burn the Caves)​

​

​

​

You can do this. Mishel told herself as she realized that running up to the top wasn't going to solve any problems today. Looking back down - the teenager realized that whatever had dropped down had gone a lot deeper than she thought. Seiger's sake... She exhaled and paced around the dirt, the mines dusted down onto her jacket her boots carved a small path where she paced. She had taken on Ssi-Ruuvi and lost a hand for it, shot off the top of Vader's Castle on Mustafar and survived whatever giant creature had been summoned to Skor II, surely - surely she thought. I can take this, I can do this, I can handle whatever comes my way I can do it.

Once her pep talk was had, the Renaway went on comms. "Auntie Jo, I'mma give our friends downstairs a frenly greeting." Using her lightsaber the teen decided to head down further into the caves toward the walking bodies she had seen. Rather walking figures she couldn't exactly make out who she had seen just that she had counted and it didn't seem like a fair fight. Then again, it's the mines and it's naturally dark. A sulphuric-yellow embued within her hazel-green eyes swirled around as she shifted her gaze.

"Man, I am taking a calculated risk, but boy..." Her voice trailed off as she watched her step along a small piece of scaffolding, "am I bad at math."

​

 

[Duke Dyson]

Location: Utapau's atmosphere
Allies: ORC, [member="Janick Beauchamp"], [member="Rayf Vigil"]
Enemies: Bucketheads, [member="Kal Ordo"]
Ship: TR-20http://starwarsrp.net/topic/99295-tr-20-x-wing
____________________________________________________________________________________________

The silhouette of the Mandalorians Ordo-Class Frigate was camouflaged in a thick hazy sky that appeared as a large shadow looming over the atmosphere of Pau City. The open canopy of his starfighter presented a display that Jax couldn't help but goggle at the sight in disbelief. [member="Janick Beauchamp"]'s transmission was loud and clear but these bucketheads still had the higher advantage.

"Copy blue leader, we're right behind you." Something Jax had been in denial of since joining the Rogues was to lead. Being a leader to any pilot would be a higher calling but after the outcome on Hex L,49 he came to dwell on the command with a grim aspect but heeding Vigil's words, there was no other pilot capable for the job. Not for the mission at hand, only a handful of Alliance fighters had been deployed. What they had right now was the only support guaranteed to ensure a win and the rest was left to fate.

"Second flight, follow my lead. Split off and engage designated targets," As Commander Vigil instructed, those Basilsk droids were going to give it their all to defend that frigate and were already swarming through with their laser pulse-wave cannons and their missile-launchers. The Mandalorians were masters in the art of stealth and cloaked appearances, the element of surprise was something in which they thrived on so they had to expect that they would come out in range when they least expected it, "Watch each other's backs, no one's dyin' today." The last sentence was a chilled promise to himself that would defy the odds but if everything went according to plan then it was possible to bring his wingmates home in one piece. Locking his S-foils into attack position Jax etched the flight stick down and accelerated in the direction indicating towards the enemy blips over his heads up display screen. They increasingly grew in sizes and started coming in from multiple directions.

The fun was just about to begin.

 

[Kaia Starchaser]

Location: Crystal Caves
Post dos
Allies: ORC, [member="Joza Perl"], [member="Damian Starchaser"], [member="Ember Farseer"], [member="Orn Pharr"], [member="Mishel Noren"]
Enemies: People stuck in tin cans, [member="Shia Kryze"], [member="Aryn Spar"]

“Yeah, they’d have to be working pretty hard to get ahead of us and.. like… bury themselves again.” The nervousness in her voice was obvious as the dark haired 20-something looked around. She was surprising herself being off a ship or station. What she really hoping for was that this job would give her something else to focus on. Like pirates. Or slavers. She would eventually get used to being planet side, just in time for her to leave to the safety of space again. She looked over her shoulder as she was getting poked.

“Its not though. We’re under ground. Y’know? Like really.” She shook her head, no reason to be that scared right now. But she was. She didn’t like this place. It helped she could stick with Joza and Ember, they seemed to know more of what they were doing here. Some Jedi Kaia was, huh? That was when she heard the call.

Right, Mandos… That was not good, not one bit. She looked up at Joza and nodded. But before she even heard surrender, she had her dual emissary pistols in her hands and was checking the power cells. She was good. At least for the start. Then lightsaber time.

She stood behind JOza as she followed the group. Unlike her cousin, or Mishel, she didn’t have much to say. But when Damian muttered other priorities she knew what he meant. Looking at the charging feline, Kaia took a few steps back, and started firing at Aryn. Was this her smartest move? No, but until she got call from the civilian team that they were getting run down by buckets, she was going to do what she could to help here. And that meant shooting at the biggest thing she found.

 

[Vilaz Munin]

Location: Rekr Dreadnought
Allies: Mandalorians, [member="Silas Mantis"], [member="Tusk"]
Enemies: Traitors, ORC, [member="Connory"], [member="Fabula Caromed"]
Engaging: [member="Elijah Rekali"]
Objective: W A R

What did Vilaz hate the most? The Jedi? The Echani? Iridonian? The Force? No, the thing he hated the most was bastards that betrayed him and the rest of the Mandalorians. Six simple tenets to follow. Raise your children as Mandalorians; speak the language; wear armor; know how the kark to defend yourself; contribute to the welfare of the clan; and rally to the call of Mand'alor. But in most recent times the last tenet of the Resol'nare was one people barely followed. They whined and complained when a warrior they chose to lead them all called for them to follow their banner. A disgusting type of breed when one didn't follow all six mandatory codes, but it was worse when they voluntarily betray their own brethren.

Saddening, but they would be sent to the deepest pits in the afterlife where honorless dar'manda rot in.

And it was very sad to see someone familiar had betrayed you. Something Vilaz experienced when he made it to the rear hangar with his escort of Clan Munin warriors.

Elijah​

​

When he saw a Rekali he worked with gun down loyal Mandalorians he felt grief and as if his heart had been stabbed. But shortly his grief turned into anger; anger turned into rage; and rage turned into hatred.

Was this how one felt betrayed?​

​

"Deal with the battle droids," the Akaan said with a serious, furious voice to his subordinates which they obeyed and activated their repulsorpacks to thrown detonators of all kinds to the hostile battle droids. As for Vilaz...he already had his target in his line of sight. He had notice Connory, the man who fathered the damned child of a murderer, and female Mandalorian that had been cursed by the Force. They would be dealt with soon, but for now...

"ELIJAH!"​

​

The Concordian roared angrily from the top of his lungs as he activated his repulsorpack, his double Mandalorian-Steel vibroblade raised up above him, flying towards the Rekali ready to swing down on the man's head.

​

As for the Rekr Dreadnought it continued its course and finally broke through the atmosphere. The patrol squadron they encountered scrambled and retreated from the firepower that overwhelmed them. Shuttles, war droids, and gunships were loaded up with warriors and launched from the hangar of the belly of the Rekr. Fighters that were already deployed would escort them and engage any craft that intercepted them. Once the troops had been dropped, the fighters would then find prey such as the likes of [member="Janick Beauchamp"] and her squadron.

The Dreadnought with its cannons and batteries would fire at anything that wasn't affiliated with them. Fighters and the flying lizards that the native warriors would ride on.

As for the troops being deployed, once their boots touched land they had one goal in mind.

To unleash​

​

all​

​

hell​

​

indiscriminately.​

​

Both neutral bystanders and hostiles​

​

would die.​

 

[Asantas]

Spoiler: MUSIC

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ibY_gw5PstU

Spoiler: ACS-205 RIFLE

http://starwarsrp.net/topic/59173-acs-205-advanced-dual-weapon-system/

Location: Crystal Caves
Equipment: In bio (minus the grenade launcher and the vornskr shotty cause thats WAY to many weapons for one person)
Allies: ME
Enemies: ORC
Engaging: Hopefully [member="Kaia Starchaser"]

She hopped out and armed herself with what was attached to the basalisk as she set it so that it would follow her as far as the cave entrance it would be way too big to follow her inside without a cave in, She readied her ACS-205 Assault rifle before she slowly made her way to the mine after making sure the Yasalamiri Nutrient frame was secure as she had her HUD set to scan for enemies while on the move. She was here to steal crystal but what she really hopes for is a battle who knows maybe who she meets might be one for a honorable battle but that would be a stretch as those not of the empire dont always follow such codes, It wont stop her from offering but even if they accept she would have be vigilant for any tricks or deception that might take place either way who ever she faces will not only have her to deal with but her mechanical beast as well and may what ever gods they believe in if any save them if they have to face her and her beast on together.

 

[Leo Vandermolen]

​

Location: Tribune Class Diplomatic Corvette. Prisoner Hold.​

Uh... People?: [member="Ara Zambrano"] | [member="Brennan Cabrol"] | [member="Bryce Bantam"] |​

Enemies: Most definitely the Mandalorian guys. ​

Broken.

It's what Leo had become. Not a complete husk, he wouldn't let anyone but himself destroy him so, but nonetheless he had been dismantled and assaulted during his time as the prisoner of Ara Zambrano. He hadn't smiled in weeks, the usual cocky grin that he would wear with pride in the face of opposition, his childish and humorous nature that he'd built for himself after finding his new path with the Coalition, or the Outback as they were back then... all of it had disappeared, pulled out from under him so suddenly.

And yet, a new darkness had surfaced in Leo, one worse than that of his past, back before he'd found his new family, and after he'd lost his old one, a period when he had no morals, nobody to fall back on or to confide in. The force only amplified it, as if he could feel the emotions, twisting and writhing all around as they beckoned him to let go, to fully cast aside his happy, structured life and take upon the mantle of this new, broken form.

Leo's mind cast back to the first time he'd discovered his binding with the force, a day that was not too long ago and not so different from today, held captive by an enemy. But back then, he'd not been broken as he was today, he'd persevered, and so had his comrades, leading to his escape from that situation. But this was different, he sat, restrained in the hold of a First Order ship, locked away from the force with no obvious means of escape, and help wasn't coming this time.

Leo rested his head upon the side of the cage as he cast his gaze outward. He was surrounded by a contingent of guards, no doubt there to make sure that Leo had no plans of escape and make his way to his ever so lovely captives. He squinted, biting down hard on his lip to stir some form of pain, some form of being from his body. It was then the smallest of smiles crept across his face, a faint flicker of the old Leo. His anger, his sadness and guilt, he'd let them stir, let them build up inside as he sat there, as he'd been tortured and broken, yet he hadn't even thought to utilize them.

Yes, obviously he'd let his emotions push out whilst using the force before, he was no Jedi, however he hadn't even thought to control his emotions, utilizing their strength like a sith would. Leo audibly laughed aloud, probably confusing the other prisoners or leading them to believe that he'd finally cracked. But it was a different thought that formed in his mind, one so comical he couldn't help but chuckle. After everything he'd been through at the hands of the enemy, Ara had actually taught him something useful.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Location: Airborne -> Pau City.
Allies: Bucketheads and their Sith Empire frands.
Enemies: Trash Pandas, specifically [member="Saoirse Flynn"]
Gear: Armour, Robes, Lightsabres, Tsaisibola.

The ground rushed up towards her, and she altered her fall with the Force, separating herself from the rest of the group by a city block. The spire-like antenna of one of Pau's taller buildings wooshed past her side, so close she could almost feel it tapping her shoulder. But she rushed past unmolested. The roar of explosions racketed through the city, fire flashing and columns of smoke already contesting the skyline. She crashed through one of the smoke-columns, leaving a tail trailing behind her near invisible form as she turned her body in the air and oriented her feet to the ground. It came closer, closer, closer-

She expelled a push of the Force, gradually increasing it to not shock her own body with a sudden halt of her descent. The landing was still rough as she tumbled along the ground, her beskar cuirass and helmet clanking against the ground, sparks rolling off her from the friction of metal on even ground, she bounced to her feet as she skid to a halt.

Eyes surveyed the area, her helmet's rudimentary HUD pointing out points of interest.

Before she could breathe out, Darth Ophidia turned quickly, staring down the barrel of a gun. He did not look like a soldier, more like an armed civilan, a would be hero. With a swipe of her hand, she used the Force to knock the blaster out of the way. She lunged towards him, practically jumping, and ignited one of her sabres. The bloodshine blade temporarily overloaded her cloaking device and made her flickering form re-appear.

However, it was too late for the hero. The plasmic blade tore through the air like a scarlet lightning, slipping just under his wide-brimmed hat, cracking the vision enhancement goggles and piercing the eye behind. Ripping the blade out, she hero fell to the floor as she extinguished the blade. Adrenaline rushed from the crystals in the hilts and replenished her.

As she turned away from the fallen wanna-be, Ophidia saw the burning ship and the figure standing in front of it; a figure she had yet to learn carried the name of Saoirse Flynn. Back turned, easy prey. She flicked the switch on her armour, but the circuits needed to reload from the last break.

"Fine."

 

[Nisha Decrilla]

Location: mid-levels
Objective: Eat people
Allies: [member="Yasha Mantis"] [member="Tal Vizsla"]
Enemies: [member="Davin Skirata"]


Malika flinched as permacrete exploded under fire, pining of Yasha’s armour. She dragged the girl further along the cover, swinging to place herself between her and the incoming fire. She held fast to Yasha closing her own eyes. “Breathe with me, feel my heartbeat,” she said, as Tal’s beast screamed into the fight drawing fire away from the pair.

“Slow, steady. Calm.”

Malika’s own fury was rising, not at Yasha, but at those who had damaged this girl, but hers was controlled. Tal would find it reflected in her eyes as she opened them at his words, the rage only a mother could have. Yasha wanted it, she could not deny the girl peace. She pulled back, resting her forehead against Yasha’s helmet for a moment before drawing away.

“I will draw their fire.”

She was without armour, but in a larger form she could take hits. Most of their fire was concentrated on the bes’uliik giving her the chance to change. Bounding out from cover the great bear bellowed its fury and charged.

 

[Zef Halo]

​

KYBER CRYSTAL CAVES
UTAPAU

---

---

---

---

And so they were off. A band of rag tag Jedi to meet any threats as far away from the workers as possible. Led by Joza, the Zeltron Jedi who seemed more of a nanny of another one of their band - the odd teen donning first order embroidered jacket who earlier nudged Ember's senses for the dark side. Followed by the two Starchaser siblings, a Jedi bloodline he'd heard about and probably every Jedi had. One was a master fashionista, the girl - a confused, rather uncomfortable lady.

Ember softly smiled.

They were a peculiar, very different group but something gave him hope. Belief in their capabilities to protect the innocent together.

A soft, refreshing touch caressed his senses, the image of an old wise, tree-like sentient blinked through his mind. Valor. Valor drove them forward.

Abruptly, a powerful tremor followed by a few more shook the whole cavesystem with dust and tiny rocks falling from above. They were to split. Joza, Damien and Kaia would move further above while Ember and Mishel, if he remembered her name correctly, were to investigate the threatening noise.

Before their division, Ember's hand fell on Joza's non-cybernetic shoulder.

"Take care of yourselves." He shot each of the three heading towards the entrance an assertive glance.

Stay safe. A residue of a thought through his mind would echo in their minds as they turned their backs on each other.

Not long after splitting up, the duo consisting of the Jedi Knight and odd teenager were able to discern the source of the tremors earlier.

Mandalorians.

They had, somehow, pierced through the ground in what appeared to be drop pods and were quickly making their way into the cave system. A worrysome feeling engulfed him but it was not his but Mishel's.

He took a cautious glance at her. The teenager, at first seemed as if she was going to hit 'Reverse' and go back but as her fear piled so did her confidence. A force through her pushed at her instincts to run. Ember tapped through the Force at the young teenager. Conflict, confusion, fear, belief. All mixed at the surface. Ember was not as proficient in the skill of empathy but nor was Mishel anywhere near subtle.

The Jedi Knight gave her a reassuring nudge.

"We do this together." He locked his eyes with hers.

We will protect those who cannot protect themselves.

"Understand?"

​

Allies: ORC, [member="Joza Perl"], [member="Damian Starchaser"], [member="Kaia Starchaser"], [member="Orn Pharr"], [member="Mishel Noren"]​

Enemies: Mandalorians, [member="Shia Kryze"]​

 

[Jorga the Hutt]

[SIZE=11pt]Supply Room Near Aft Hangar[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Mandalorian Dreadnought[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Utapau Orbit[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]ALLIES: ORC[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]ENEMIES: ME in the person of [/SIZE][member="Silas Mantis"]

[SIZE=11pt]Somewhere close, Connory knew, [member="Fabula Caromed"] and [member="Elijah Rekali"] and the other boarders were making waves. The shelves trembled every couple of heartbeats - presumably the power hammer at work. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Silas Mantis came through the door with a B1 hulk as a shield. The slugs from Connory's wrist guns whined off or embedded themselves in the cheap battle droid. He ceased fire right away and leveled the door breacher - but not at the man he new recognized as Silas Mantis.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]On either side of the corridor between them, shelf struts evaporated, especially those close to Silas. Clouds of metal vapor rose from supply crates as they avalanched down at Clan Mantis’ second-favorite son. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]For all that Silas’ part in the baby-killing mission inspired a deep black rage, he would know the status of that mission. And even though the boarders meant to trash this dreadnought, Connory's primary mission was to kidnap men who might have that information. Men who might know how close the Mandalorian Empire was to finding and murdering his infant son.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The sonic screwdriver hummed just so in his left hand, and the data spike futzed into uselessness. The security door slammed shut behind Silas - the anvil to the avalanche’s hammer.[/SIZE]