Damn Damotite [First Order Dominion of Lanteeb]

[Marzena Vaas]

Objective: 1
Location: Lantibba City
Allies: [member="Ludolf Vaas"], First Order
Post: 4

Marzena stepped delicately out of the transport and shivered slightly as the cold air touched upon her bare shoulders. Her attention was immediately drawn towards an enthusiastic voice, and she smiled upon hearing that General Vaas had sent her a wrangler. Even from afar, he was making sure that her needs were taken care of, and she would make certain to repay his generosity. Already her mind was swimming with the ways she could thank him...

“Thank you for the warm welcome, Mr. Calark.” Marzena said, after realizing that the man was eyeing her eagerly. She hadn’t meant to keep him waiting in anticipation, but it just happened that her mind simply had been elsewhere. “Some water would be appreciated.” She nodded. Marzena had always felt it best for her to perform on an empty stomach; she would take advantage of the catering and juice bar after the show.

Marzena watched quietly as Nolen as he moved to the side to fetch her bag, and she followed along when he instructed her. The light fabric of the singer’s red dress flowed effortlessly behind her, painting her brightly against the grey of the cityscape. She was the image of sophistication, an appearance that she worked tirelessly to maintain, and she wondered if this world had ever been graced by someone of her stature.

Upon entering her backstage dressing room she set about perfecting her makeup and hair. Though she had already perfected her complexion, she added a few extra details for stage flair. The singer also slid out of her red gown and into something a bit better suited for performing. Marzena had always favored stage outfits that were short and sparkling, but still very tasteful. After making sure that her long dark waves were tasseled just right, she opened the door to find Nolen waiting patiently.

“Ready, Miss Choi?”

She stepped out, took Nolen’s arm and together the pair walked towards the stage. The wrangler bowed his head when they arrived backstage, and the only thing left to do was step out from behind the curtain.

 

[Darth Metus]

Location: Lanteeb, the Skies Above
Allies: The Mandalorian Crusaders
Enemies: The First Order, [member="Ludolf Vaas"]

The words of Petra Cavataio were thus: an echo of memory exchanged between mother and son. Long ago, the Mandalorian had come, on bent knee, to seek knowledge from the infamous Mother Superior. Her response?

What does it mean to call upon the Storm?
It is not fury, like the Lightning of the Sith.
Nor is it cold intent, like the Alterations of the Jedi.

To call upon the Storm is to understand the ebb and flow of Nature herself. It is to make peace with what man has always tried to tame. The Storm is power, you see: Power channeled, not controlled.​

Thus was wisdom passed down from mother to child; and thus did the Mandalorian muster the Storm. He did not have time to blanket the heavens in black, nor did he have the luxury of unleashing a maelstrom upon the First Order. Yet what he did have was enough...enough to give his fellows room to breathe on the ground. Although fledgling in more ways than one, the gray which stretched about the Aquila was alive with power. It was as if Lanteeb itself responded, with eagerness, to the ancient utterings of the Witch King. It was if...the planet itself did not find pleasure in the slaughter of its children.

And thus was Power Channeled, not Controlled.

At once the incantation came to an end. Thunder boomed mightily within the budding storm. Electricity waltzed at an immense tempo: dancing and moving to a central point. The target was clear. And with but the closure of his fist did the Mandalorian unleash the fury of nature herself. A brilliant flash illuminated the cloud, momentarily obstructing Isley's view of the ground. In an instant, power crashed down upon the Walker. It was once said that lightning never struck twice...but this day it did. Twin bolts, faster than the blink of an eye, slammed down from the heavens. Poised were they to cripple the walker that dared to fire upon the Crusaders. Mighty enough were they to wreak havoc upon the vital systems, servo motors, and all the bells and whistles which made the machine "tick."

And gods willing, the tide would turn.

[2/20]

 

[Zak Dymo]

Spoiler: OOC Note

Apologies for the crappy post. I've struggled with this one for more than a day. I'm just not a PVP writer.

4​

Location: Rocantor Bay Colony
Objective 4: Eliminate Opposition
Bling Master: [member="Marcello Matteo"]

Silly Jedi, tricks are for kids.

...wait, he was a kid.

In any event, a Sith assassin didn't rely on their eyesight alone. Which didn't make being blinded any less of an irritation. "-tt-" the Pantoran uttered, as he raised his arms too late to shield his eyes and grimaced as he shut his eyes against the shimmering glare. Sensing the approach of the Jedi juggernaut, the boy took a half-step back and then pitched himself to one side as he leapt out at an angle perpendicular to the man's line of attack.

 

[OK-3103]

Post 3

Ahead, just visible to the naked eye, was Lanteeb, a tiny brown disk against the black backdrop of the insignificant Malor-77 system. The planet had a single orbiting moon, small and scurrying high above.

They encountered the buffeting remnants of an ion storm. Their ship tossed and shuddered, its hull groaning, but it held together under the stress. With the turbulence safely negotiated the nav comp locked back on to their predetermined course, and minute by minute Lanteeb loomed larger. The designated approach was bringing them in on the planet's day side, which meant Meneer could see its single inhabited continent clearly. The landmass looked like a grubby greeny brown raft floating on the planet's enormous expanse of bluish gray water. Drab, uninspiring, not a single thing about Lanteeb struck him as worth fighting for.

But such decisions were above his comprehension — although it bothered him that he did not fully understand them and saw it as something he needed to study if he was to progress.

Which meant the only thing left for him to do now was wait until their ship made it safely to ground. He hated this part. Hated losing control, being at the mercy of someone else's whims.

 

[Greifen Ren]

Objective: 4
Allies: [member="Arthan Corvax"]
Enemies: [member="Isar Kislo"]

The ground shook beneath Greifen's feet and another ear-splitting bang echoed across the terrain, followed by the sound of violent explosion, coupled with screams of peril. When the smoke cleared, Greifen surveyed the town before him. The walls had been breached now in two places on his flank. It would be enough to mount a proper assault on the town proper.

Greifen ordered a full advance, while his troops kept cover as much as possible. He expected there to be losses on his side, as was usually the case for any attacking force, but the remaining snipers in the village were becoming an annoyance. Ren ducked an incoming blaster bolt; moments earlier, a trooper to his right hadn't been so lucky. Fire could be fought with fire, however. The Knight of Ren ordered his own Stormtrooper snipers into position to return fire on the men on the walls.

The sensation of another Force user nearby had never left him, however. When he caught sight of the blue blade springing to life out of the corner of his left eye, Greifen could not say he was wholly surprised. This must be the Jedi he had sensed earlier. He seemed to be alone... perfect, Greifen thought. He had succeeded in drawing out his foe. Right now, the Jedi was surrounded by a pair of Stormtrooper corpses - Greifen figured he would give him a more interesting challenge.

His own crimson blade sprung to life then, announcing his presence to the Jedi on the battlefield, beckoning him forward as his soldiers moved on to assault the village.

 

[OK-3103]

Post 4

The spaceport was larger than Meneer had expected, given Lanteeb's galactic isolation. A reflection of its more prosperous past, perhaps, when the planet's exported damotite had guaranteed a steady flow of credits. Standing at the top of their ship's lowered ramp, he took a moment to breathe in the noisy, smelly atmosphere. Get a feel for the place. His innate time-sense told him it was still early morning. The milky-blue sky was patchy with clouds, the air thick and muggy. It had been raining. Pools and puddles spread across their docking bay's roofless central sector, the water sheened with iridescent oil-slick rainbows.

Wherever he looked there was construction work under way: upgrades to other docking bays, new lockdown grids, an extensive spiderweb of catwalks and rigging platforms. Across the other side of this sector was what looked like some kind of security cage arrangement complete with laser grid and targeting blaster turrets.

There were humans everywhere. Uniformed security types dominated, overseeing the construction work, each man armed with a high-powered blaster and a shock-stick.

 

[Ludolf Vaas]

Objective: 4
Allies: [member="Kyle Amedis"] [member="Kajtia Xiz'injhürek"]
Enemies: [member="Isley Verd"]

There was only so much a non-Force User like Vaas could do when a literal storm was summoned against him. Having nothing but his wits to guide him, he could do nothing except hold on and brace for impact as the two bolts struck his walker.

"Emergency positions!"

He at least got that order off before the bolts struck, sending a violent shudder throughout the machine as his copilot, gunners and mechanics all ducked for cover. The electronics inside the ship surged and then darkened as the walker was overcome with a deafening sound. Then, Ludolf looked up, with his ears still ringing, to see which systems had survived and would slowly come back to life, and which screens would remain dark.

"Damage report, Lieutenant."

"Engine 1 is out, we can't move the rear legs. Our targeting systems have been knocked out."

"See what repairs you can make, on the double," Ludolf commanded. And then to one of his gunners, "Move over. I'll see what I can do without the targeting systems."

-----------------------------------------------------

After Nolen Calark had long since scurried off, leaving [member="Marzena Choi"] to her own devices, the only thing that could now be heard was the roar of the crowd from behind the curtains. An impressive audience had filled the arena nearly to its capacity in anticipation for Marzena's concert. It was probably the biggest concert Marzena had played to date, and certainly her most important, though she did not yet realize why. When Calark finally returned from organizing some last-minute details of ensuring Marzena's dancers were in their positions, he clasped his hands together in excitement.

"They are waiting for you, Miss Choi."

With a smile, he slunk back off into the backstage areas, just as the lights of the arena dimmed, signaling the show was about to begin. This was met with a roar of excitement from the crowd behind the curtain. And somewhere out there, in that teeming mass of humans, were two alien terrorists whose plan was to have Marzena Choi leave her concert in only one condition: dead. Elsewhere, hidden from knowledge and view, were two First Order Agents in plain clothes, surveilling their every move.

The First Order had learned of their plans, but they would consciously choose not to act... for the moment.

 

[OK-3103]

Post 5

His squad chatted on the privacy of their helmet comlinks, audible only to each other. Mener dragged his gaze from the outside world and settled into the bitter, sweet cocoon of his helmet, at once both reassuring and confining.

"Receive schematics, people," he said. "And real-time view."

A display of lines and fly-through images filled his HUD. The image that had been transmitted was the plan of the entire spaceport building; long walkways led off vaulted halls and service areas, cubes of offices lined corridors, and power conduits wove through the image in green light. Superimposed on top of the overview, an image of the main spaceport arrivals area showed knots of guards in yellow vests crouched behind security barricades, some engaged in animated conversation.

A blue hologram figure of a thick-set man in uniform shimmered into life in front of Meneer, a little paunchy but still looking like he could give as good as he got. "Can you see this, Chrome?”

Meaner spoke for the squad, "Got it."

"They're holed up in a customs clearance corridor, and they've threatened to detonate explosives. Two sets of doors. and we've left them control of one to stop them panicking and doing something stupid."

"How many confirmed?"

"Six, and we're trying to get pictures of them." The commander might not have played this game before, but he had some common sense. "Witnesses report perpetrators armed with blasters and carrying something in backpacks, which we have to assume are explosives. No ID on them yet, but they were all on the same flight."

"Any contact with the targets?"

A pause. "If you mean the gang, they've issued demands and we have a secure comiink established with them."

"And you have primacy?" Are you running the show?" The doubt in Meneer’s voice was audible.

“For as long as I have a ranking First Order official and his aide in danger," said the Commander. The hologram began to waver again. “Out.”

 

[Marzena Vaas]

Objective: 1 - (Don't) Break a leg...
Location: Lantibba City
Allies: [member="Ludolf Vaas"], First Order
Post: 5

The sound of the crowd filled Marzena’s ears, and sent an electric surge of anxiety through her. Though, as her slender form peeled the curtain back, and a sparkling high heel hit the stage, she felt herself falling into a steady calm. While the stage could strike fear into the hearts of many, Marzena felt truly at home in the spotlight. The lights flickered on in tune to the music, the singer stepped out to the middle of the stage, and let the first notes of her song carry her voice out to the audience.

For a moment she took in the energy of the crowd, amazed at the number of people present for her performance, but then she came to focus solely on her music. The faces of the audience blurred in front of her, she let the presence of her backup singers and dancers fade away, until only she and her microphone remained. The arena could have come crashing down all around her, and she would probably not have noticed... until it was too late.

Marzena’s feet moved automatically, carrying her gracefully about the stage as she danced, her songs weaving seamlessly from one to the next. Judging by the enthusiastic response from the crowd, she felt safe in guessing that the show would be a remarkable success. The singer and her audience were both quite oblivious to the scenes of battle raging on other parts of the planet, but there were a just few present that were well aware... The two alien terrorists were in position and poised to carry out their task.

Though she was now nearing the midpoint of her concert, Marzena was still filled with energy. Next there would be a short intermission, and the singer would return to her dressing room for a costume change. As she reached the final notes, she was prepared to end her song with a bang... quite literally. Stage pyrotechnics had been arranged for her show, in a matter of moments the stage would be showered with bright and harmless sparks. There would also be two large flashes on each side of the stage, and the area between would be filled with smoke to signal Marzena’s exit.

She bowed her head as the song came to an end, and the sound of small explosions rang out around the stage. Marzena didn’t even bat an eye, as it had all been well planned for...

But somewhere in the crowd, fingers squeezed remote detonators.

A final blast set of blasts sounded in the arena... and this time it had nothing to do with stage pyrotechnics.

 

[Connor Harrison]

Location: The Drop Zone
Objective: 4
Allies Near: [member="Kajtia Xiz'injhürek"] | [member="Ludolf Vaas"]
Enemies: [member="Keira Ticon"] | [member="Isley Verd"]
Post: 3 / 20

Kyle gasped as he came to - face down, under another body of a dead trooper. Smoke was filling the air, and his visor was streaked with mud. He coughed, and could hear chaos around him.

Pushing up, he struggled to get the dead weight of the fallen body off his own before he clambered for his E11 and staggered forward, noting the huge ball of fire of a downed ship, crackling and spitting flame. He brought his arm up, activating the comlink.

”General Vass, something big just hit - took me out. I'm sorry - where are you?"

He knelt down to avoid wild baster fire - it seemed the Mandalorians and rebels had a slight edge to this current battle.

 

[Kajtia Xiz'injhürek]

Location: Near the downed ship / Drop zone.
Objective: 4
Allies Near: [member="Kyle Amedis"], [member="Ludolf Vaas"], First Order
Enemies: [member="Oron Verd"], [member="Keira Ticon"], [member="Isley Verd"], Crusaders, Xeno Rebels
Post: 10 / 20

Suddenly the air near the downed ship and surrounding areas would be full of smoke and dust. Kajtia had taken a shot at a Jedi, yet it appeared futile in the end. In-fact her position was very much futile in the end. With the smoke and debris filling the air, shooting down people through her scopes proved no longer useful. Now was the time to pack up and head down to the battlefield and fight up close. She had been trained in Teras Kasi and various other close combat martial arts. Now she decided would be the time to use her skill, to help Kyle and his troops.

She quickly re-attached the small cage with the Ysalamiri back onto her back and ran. As she ran, she encountered a group of Mandolorians trying to run away from the wreckage. Kajtia would shoot the first two as they were caught off guard, and then lay waste to the next with a series of kicks to knock him down. As she then got up and close to the fourth and final Mandolorian, she slit his throat just as he had tried to shoot her. The one she had kicked to the ground prior, she then promptly ended his life with a quick turn and firing of her blaster.

It was chaos all around her. Stray bolts could be seen and heard everywhere. Now was a good time to turn on her body force field shield she decided, and did so without hesitation. She then continued to run deeper and deeper into the battlefield. Her aim was simple. Find the captain of the troopers, and kindly ask how she can be of assistance to him or her.

 

[OK-3103]

Post 6

A sudden movement in his peripheral vision made him raise his rifle. A hover-cam with a news channel logo was sitting motionless 5 meters to his right, too close for comfort. There was no point being covert in your ops if you were on the news and your target might be watching. The rest of the squad could see Meneer's field of vision via an icon in their helmet links.

"I don't thlnk that cam's going to last the day," said one of the trooper's voices.

Meneer's boots hit the walkway and he aimed. The hovercam darted left then right in his scope, fast but not fast enough, "I second that," the lieutenant said.

A shout of 'hey!' followed the thwack of exploding hovercam The rest of Chrome's squad hit the ground and jogged toward the terminal entrance. "You shot my cam!" yelled a woman from the watching crowd. She was wearing a bright yellow tabard emblazoned with the word MEDIA in large letters. "You shot It!"

Meneer touched his glove to his helmet in apology, just as he'd been taught, but he still thought it was a pretty good shot. "Oops. Beg your pardon, ma'am."

He jogged after the others, conscious of the staring crowd. Chrome saw his armour as safe and welcoming. But the expressions on a couple of faces made him realise that ordinary people were scared by it.

And it wasn't just the civilians who found his squad a riveting spectacle. The local police officers at the forward control point stared, too. Nodded and carried on jogging when a lieutenant stepped away from the defensive barricade of baggage repulsors and portable blast shields erected 10 meters around the customs halt. He was clearly intent on dialogue but Meneer didn't have time for it - not with a ranking Order official at risk.

 

[Mav Halo]

Location: The Drop Zone
Objective: Make with the carnage
Allies: [member="Keira Ticon"], [member="Grim Vizsla"], [member="Oron Verd"], [member="Isley Verd"] | Mandalorian Crusaders
Enemies: [member="Kyle Amedis"], [member="Kajtia Xiz'injhürek"], [member="Ludolf Vaas"] | First Order
Gear: Bevii'ragir, Aliit'gam, Beskad, Scattergun
Post Count: 3/20

If Alar’s smile had been unpleasant before, it turned positively wicked as thunder rumbled in the heavens above. She might not have completely understood what the proclaimed Witch-King was doing to influence the weather, but her own nascent potential within the force was enough to sense the gist of his plan. In that fleeting moment the Aliit’buir of the Verd clan was the storm itself; the will of sky made manifest. And the sky was pretty karking angry.

Even with her visor the flashes stung at her eyes even as they seared themselves into her memory. Her blood rose. The adrenaline surged. She barely registered clearing her makeshift cover. The first dozen or so yards were equally a blur to the Mandalorian, cleared in her unrepentant sprint for glory and bloodshed. Had the stormtroopers not been staggered by the onslaught the skies had rained down upon them and their walker machine, the charge would have likely ended almost as soon as it had begun. Yet it seemed both the fortune and tides of the conflict had shifted, if only temporarily.

Her scattergun snarled as Alar closed the distance on the stunned soldiers, the opening volley taking the first trooper high in the chest. At this distance the damage was mitigated to a degree by the man’s armour, yet the impact was still enough to make him stagger and fall back. The second salvo slammed into him before he had time to recover, with a third following hot on its heels, cracking and punching fist size holes through plastoid and flesh alike. It might have been cliché to say he was dead before he hit the ground, but the man was definitely not long for this world. Alar would see that he had company on the final journey.

A credit to their training, the stormtroopers were now beginning to rally. A scattering of blaster bolts lanced out at the advancing Mandalorians. Alar gritted her teeth as one sliced off her pauldron. Fortunately the angle too oblique to do more than blister paint and score the first few layers, only serving to slow her advance a fraction rather than stop it completely. She was in to them before they got a chance to correct their aim, shoulder charging into the next trooper unlucky enough to be in her sights, sending him bowling clear over. On the face of things, he was the lucky one. It was his closest companion that became the second to taste her scattergun’s ire. The second to fall bloody and broken. More would quickly follow as an avalanche of beskar crashed down upon them as her own comrades joined the fray.

Tal bal orar.

Blood and thunder.

 

[OK-3103]

Post 7

Meneer decided that the police had a lot to learn about sieges and the officer was lurking within earshot and clearly wasn’t going to take the hint to move away.

"Let's get a cam in there first so we can see what's going on," he said. He beckoned his Staff Sergeant forward. "Pictures! We need to know who to shoot."

"You're a bit keen,” said the police officer.

Meneer initially thought to ignore the man but decided to explain, in case of complications down the line. "If you're not a hostage, you're a hostage taker, and that means you're dead a few seconds after we go in. We hate to make mistakes."

"What do you mean by go in, exactly?" The police officer seemed alarmed. A name tab on his vest said LEVOIE. "I'm incident commander. I say how and when anyone goes in. We've got a negotiator en route to speak with the leader."

One of the troopers took his pack off his back and began pulling out coils of high-yield charges and detonators. He was staring at the security doors as if calculating. "We'll still get the charges In place, just in case."

Meneer nodded his approval.

"No, that's not how we do It," said LeVoie. "We don't want the hostages char-grilled. No storming, no heroics. Not yet."

Meneer interrupted, “We want this ended fast to show who’s in control. Terrorists can't just walk in here, grab a ranking official and hold the Order’s finest at bay. Check the news, there’s a change of command as far as this planet is concerned.”

“You maybe the Order’s finest, but you should have concentrated on ensuring secure transportation for your people,” said LeVoie, “And what about those other hostages? You want to tell their families that they got fired because you called in the heavy mob to save one man?”

Meneer waited, all mild, deceptive patience. He addressed all those present, not just the police within hearing distance. "Let's be clear what we're trained to do, gentlemen. We go in and extract hostages by any means necessary. We don't ask for ID. We don't take targets alive. We don't avoid damaging the furniture. When we go in, there is no happy ending, because there was no happy start.” He paused as if waiting to see if the reality of the statement had sunk in. "So we'll just wander around and rig the interrupts to the power and light, and I’ll tell you when we’re ready to roll."

 

[Jevar Xolius]

Location: Drop Zone
Objective: Shoot to kill
Allies: [member="Grim Vizsla"] [member="Keira Ticon"] [member="Oron Verd"] [member="Isley Verd"] | Mandalorian Cursaders
Enemies: First Order
Post Count: 1/20

Controlled breathing filled Jevar's ears for a brief moment as the world around him died in a sense. Cadavers decoratively draping the battlefield with limbs spread wide and their respective armors becoming patterns atop the bloodied, gore-fed soil. Both Westar-35's in hand behind cover, Jevar popped out and gave his sentiment about the First Order and all their arrogance. They were a people ruled by martial law, oppressors, and a misguided sense of authority. ​

​

They would be felled like any common man among the stars, their crimson would do the Mando proud. A symbolic gesture to ensure the livelihood of a strong belief, a belief that was as true and tested. ​

​

"At haran ti gar, an be gar!"​

​

Bolts zipped by either side of Jevar's visor, the HUD itself flashing warnings of danger-close enemy fire. Something a bit redundant and albeit a slight bit irritating to the man, he pressed on and tuned out the indications. Sometimes technology wasn't needed to tell you how to spill blood, especially when the objective at hand was already so plain in detail. ​

​

Crashing behind cover yet again, the half-Zeltron half-Corellian Mandalorian fired blindly over his small mass of cover. Some of it being the bodies and bits of armor from corpses and broken metal. Smoke was rising, and the skies were just as riddled with battle as the ground. Trying to find his best bet to progress from this stalemate, Jevar reached to the side of his kama and relinquished a thermal detonator. The small gun-metal gray sphere couldn't be more inviting with its large red button, the thing you're usually not supposed to press.​

​

However, in this case, the pressing of the button signified a short respite. ​

​

*beep!*​

​

The explosive now being armed, it was lobbed over the hunk of debris and bodies and was briefly followed with numerous voices shouting and yelling at one another to move, but alas, the clumsiness and poor reaction time of the probably underpaid stormtroopers spelled out their demise. Scorched armorplast and even guts littered the surrounding area.​

​

"So this is the First Order... what a joke."​

 

[Valae Heavenshield]

Objective: 4
Location: Residence, outskirts of Lantibba City
Allies: First Order
Enemies: Aliens and their sympathizers
Post: 6

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8kBWufLX0vU

Earlier that day...

At 0400 hours on the dot, Hyori Tal’s boot hit the ground outside Neil Renholm’s residence. The shroud of darkness had not yet lifted from the early morning sky of Lanteeb. Silent steps brought her to the front entrance, where she entered the access codes that she had acquired. A tiny “beep” sounded as the door unlocked, and the woman made her way into the house, silent as a shadow...

For the last 12 weeks and six days, she had been living life as Mako Miura, a mild mannered administrative assistant, and citizen of Lantibba City. She left for work every morning and returned to her small flat every evening, as did the other salary workers in the capital city. However, under the cover of darkness she lived a very different life...

The new agent of the First Order had been tasked with infiltrating the groups of xeno partisans and their sympathizers. Her first weeks had been spent forging relationships with a small but influential group of alien terrorists, slowly gaining their trust as one of very few human sympathizers. Her nights were spent holed up in a small bunker outside the city, learning about her enemies, and adding fuel to their fire. She had been somewhat surprised to learn that a human was responsible for their funding and access to weapons. They saw him as a fellow freedom fighter, but Hyori saw him for what he really was... a terrorist.

Mr. Renholm’s time had come. Hyori knew that the partisan group would move to strike out against the impending invasion of Lanteeb, and suffering the loss of their supporter would surely be an injury to their moral. The house was quiet and still, as if the building was sleeping as soundly as its occupants. Hyori crept towards the master bedroom, her pace slow and steady; this was not a time to be hasty. The door would creak ever so softly as her gloved hand turned the knob, but the only sound that followed was the slow breathing of one that was deep in dreams.

For a moment she stood over Mr. Renholm’s bedside, looking down in disgust as he slept, completely unaware of what was to come. Hyori slipped a blaster pistol from her belt, and a sadistic smile appeared on her face. She’d been waiting a long time for this moment. Before her finger squeezed the trigger, the sleeping man suddenly roused, almost as if a sixth sense had told him that the end was near.

“Miss Miura?”

The barrel of the blaster leveled between his eyes...and it was the last thing he ever saw.

 

[Keira Priest]

Location: Drop zone
Objective: Death
Allies: [member="Alar Brokarra"], [member="Grim Vizsla"], [member="Isley Verd"], Oron Verd, Mandalorian Crusaders
Enemies: [member="Kajtia Xiz'injhürek"], [member="Kyle Amedis"], [member="Ludolf Vaas"], First Order
Gear: In signature
(3/20)

When the lightning was called down to eliminate the walker in a bright flash with a crack of thunder, Keira looked away instinctively, the image of that bolt seared into her vision for the next few blinks. For just long enough to regain her sight in full she remained behind cover, listening to the various weapon-fire in order to roughly map the location of ally and enemy alike. "Thalia, get me an overview of the terrain. I'd like to know what we're dealing with." "Imagery will be incoming shortly." Within seconds her HUD lit up with a far more accurate depiction of her surroundings than she would ever be able to manage, and she situated that map in the corner of her vision with nothing more than a few subtle eye movements.

Her eventual charge into the fray was in part accelerated with the Force, those first few troopers quite literally having no idea what hit them. The vibroblade thrummed forth from the gauntlet plate of her left hand, tearing viciously through the throat of the nearest stormtrooper, crimson cascading down the front of once pristine white duraplast. A shot from her blaster pistol extinguished the life of another at close range, a gunshot crack of the Force caving in the ribs of three others, rendering them lifeless enough. It was at that point a distinct void within the ethereal sparked within her subconscious, her attention rallying to that single focal point nearly instantly. Everything was settled. That was to be her next target.

There was the matter of getting there, but she had felt the death of a handful of their own nearby, and that was guidance enough. It was soon enough the figure was visible, though not entirely accessible just yet. But her intent was clear. You're mine.

 

[Kajtia Xiz'injhürek]

Location: Near the downed ship / Drop zone.
Objective: 4
Allies Near: [member="Kyle Amedis"], [member="Ludolf Vaas"], First Order
Enemies: [member="Oron Verd"], [member="Keira Ticon"], [member="Isley Verd"], Crusaders, Xeno Rebels
Post: 11 / 20

Kajtia ran deeper and deeper into the battlefield. As she ran deeper into it, the smoke around her would intensify further. Around her it was chaos. Stormtroopers ran in all directions, disoriented, as were fleeing Mandorlorians. Kajtia wasn’t concerned by any stray blaster bolts that may hit her. She was well protected with her shield that surrounded her body including the small cage with the baby Yaslamiri on her back. Of course it would not protect her against any close range attack against fists or blades, yet that too did not concern her as she was more than capable of holding her own in combat.

Deeper and deeper she went. She had not spotted the stormtrooper captain yet, but she sensed another. The noise, the echo, the sound of a blade skimming through the air. A vibroblade, and then a dead stormtrooper on the ground. Kajtia stopped and looked around her. The thick smoke was making it hard for her to see around her. Yet she could sense it even without the Force. Someone was nearby, very close as a matter of fact. Then she saw movement within the smoky shadows of a female like figure holding a vibroblade. Kajtia raised and her readied her blaster pistol. Whoever it was, she was indeed quick. However if she wanted to fight and was Force sensitive, Kajtia’s Yaslamiri would insure to keep them both on level terms.

 

[Ludolf Vaas]

Objective: 4
Allies: [member="Kajtia Xiz'injhürek"] [member="Kyle"] Amedies [member="OK-3103"]
Enemies: Mandalorian Crusaders & Co.

"Hold the line, Amedis. Artillery support will resume shortly."

Ludolf's blunt response to the Stormtrooper captain was short and quick. He was busy flipping the controls of the walker's heavy guns himself, getting a reading on their effectiveness. The walker was unable to move, but some of her weapons still functioned. Good enough for General Vaas.

"Status report, Lieutenant," Vaas said over his shoulder. "How long until we're operational?"

"Repairs may be impossible, my lord," Came the reply from behind. "The rear engine servo-motors have been completely..."

"Fine," Ludolf cut him off. "Focus on getting all our weapons back online. We'll fight them standing still if we must."

The targeting systems of the walker's MS-1 cannons were down, including most of the HUD, but that couldn't stop Vaas from aiming with his own two eyes.

"I want all personnel manning a turret somewhere on this walker," The General said, before zeroing in on the Mandalorians across the battlefield. Finding a new boost in morale after the lightning strike had crippled the walker, they were now rallying and charging forth.

Vaas found a particularly devastating Mandalorian in his sights. [member="Alar Brokarra"] looked as if she was having an easier time with the Stormtroopers than General Vaas could allow. Perhaps the rhythmic, thunderous sound of the walker's one-two heavy cannon fire would bring the Mandalorians down from their battle high a notch or two. Ludolf was firing and aiming manually, but his guns were aiming right in the direction of Alar Brokarra... and if he couldn't hit her, perhaps he could take out yet more of her allies.

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It took a few moments for the crowd in the arena to realize what was going on. The last pyrotechnic blast sounded different than the rest - it was a more sickly belch of explosives, followed not by lights and glitter, but by smoke, and eventually screams. In short order, the arena began to erupt in chaos when the smoke cleared, revealing an entire swathe of the front-row crowd to be little more than a pile of corpses and bodies laying, cringing in agony.

At that moment, the terrorists began to move. One aimed for the exit, while the other had far more sinister plans. Amid the confusion and chaos, the alien rushed the stage, the instant movement of his actions catching the security guards off base, who were still stunned by the explosion. In little more than a second, the alien terrorist was now on stage, standing only feet from [member="Marzena Choi"]. Marzena's dancers immediately scattered when the blaster was pulled from his waistband and leveled at the unarmed actress and singer. And then, a shot rang out in the air.

There was a moment of confused disbelief. The blaster bolt did not come out of the alien's gun, but rather came from behind. Then, a second later, the alien fell to the ground, dead, revealing the visage of a First Order Agent behind him, holding a blaster with a smoking barrel.

 

[OK-3103]

Post 8

A trooper look a couple of strip-cams from his backpack, each no bulkier than a sheet of flimsi. Meneer switched to the internal helmet comllnk.

One of the troopers asked a question through the comms. "Terrorists or blackmailers?"

Meneer shrugged. "I don't care as long as they fall over when we shoot them." A trooper's life was all clarity.


The twin doors separating them from the hostages began to part and all of the troopers trained their weapons on the widening gap. Meneer could see the different views through their scopes in his HUD.

"Hold!" he ordered.

Something tipped and rolled onto the polished marble and the doors sighed shut again. It was a body. The police closed up to see better.

The body wasn't moving. Meneer scanned it and saw a flicker of light.

"Booby trap - counting down!"

The police officers were right on top of it, unprotected.