Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Dominion Dark Harvest: Outbreak | Mandalorian Enclave Dominion of Gamorr




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“Even as he who glories while he gains will, when the time has come to tally loss, lament with every thought and turn despondent,”


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Equipment: Beskar'Gam l Crushgaunts l Disruptor Pistol l Beskar Knife l Jetpack l Combat Rifle l Combat Stims l Cigar and a lighter l Wrist Mounted Flamethrower l x3 Grenades

Tags:

Romul Saxon Romul Saxon l Kale Onara Kale Onara l Mae Tecono Mae Tecono l Tyrias Aran Tyrias Aran



The hallway where the strike team was turned into a bloodbath rather quickly. There was no conversation, no debate among the Commandos. The things coming for them were hostile and deserved no mercy or pity. And the team was quick to dispatch them, rifles at the ready, the hallway becoming alight with the sound of gunfire.

Bodies were dropped at an alarming rate.

But they kept coming. And they didn't respond to the usual tactics- only severely damaging their bodies or shooting them in the head seemed to do the trick. The Strike team was simply underprepared for this... threat.

The Veteran of the group, Stran, and two others were overwhelmed first. Their weapons were ripped away, the infected grabbing at the bodies, pulling them into the horde. Stran screamed a war cry while he was essentially ripped apart, bitten into. Fenn could only watch in horror, helplessly picking off the infected that came his way. Stran watched the other two lifeless bodies around him be ripped apart.

Stran looked towards Fenn and the other Commandos, before reaching to his webbing. Fenn watched it happen, as if time slowed. He saw the fear in his eyes, his helmet ripped away by the infected. Stran tried to reach for it with his free hand, but it too, was bitten into, ripped at and clawed at. He screamed, grabbing onto his helmet, weakly wrapping his hand around it. He pulled it close to his chest, and looked up at Fenn.

He seemed to look apologetic in his last moments.

Right before he activated the thermal detonator.

The concussive blast sent Fenn and several other Commandos flying back, but evaporated most of the infected around the three now deceased and largely gone Commandos. Stran himself disappeared in the blast, being at the center. The hallway lights flickered, a power surge from the amount of energy the thermal detonator put into the exposed electrical wires. Fenn barely had time to register the loss- an infected came up, trying to straddle him. Panicking, he braced the infected with his knee, felt him scratch at his body- before Fenn dug the Disruptor pistol into the scientist's ribcage, and blew out his lungs and heart, and most of his spine, with a single shot. Scrambling to his feet, Fenn picked up his rifle, and reconvened with the remaining Strike Team members.

They had now a single objective:

Run like hell.









 
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By Csilla these foul creatures taxed a woman's patience. Even her agility wasn't enough to handle an entire group of the corrupted, flailing creatures. Tyrias enjoyed a good hunt, but part of surviving as a amateur assassin was knowing when you were in over your head. Unlike some people, this Chiss didn't fall victim to bloodlust. Hunting criminals was a passtime, not a calling. Rotted-flesh creatures or whatever these were? They could have the place and get blown straight to the Nether for their trouble.

A loud explosion up ahead drew her red gaze. On one hand it meant there could still be trouble, and the racket would draw attention. On the other, an explosion that big probably thinned any herd. Seemed like the direction to follow.

A mostly feminine figure whipped around the corner wearing a sealed helmet. Her fingers danced over a control without bothering to pay Fenn Stag Fenn Stag or the other survivors more than the half-second glance she'd taken rounding the corner. All she needed to know was they weren't shambling beasts, and the hallway wasn't blocked with their ilk. Good enough.

An emergency bulkhead banged shut as it dropped from the ceiling.

Tyrias slowly turned and regarded one of the fleshy things as its upper half reached for her; the lower extremities were on the other side of a very thick, metal partition. The metal blade in her hand split into sections and crackled to life with plasma edge between the chevrons. Without a word she lopped the creature's head off so it would go silent.

Then she turned to regard the others present. "Not this way." Now her eyes registered the explosive residue in the area. Thermal detonator? Insanely dangerous in an enclosed space in close quarters. Desperate time. "That way." Tyrias pointed the opposite direction down the hall. "Lift. If we're lucky it isn't obstructed." Was she supposed to say 'hello' in these situations? Hadn't crossed her mind.

Fenn Stag Fenn Stag | Romul Saxon Romul Saxon | Mae Tecono Mae Tecono | Kale Onara Kale Onara
 
Trying to find a Dogfight Foe
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Objective: Stay alive

Tag: Fenn Stag Fenn Stag Fenn Stag Fenn Stag | Tyrias Aran Tyrias Aran Tyrias Aran Tyrias Aran | Kale Onara Kale Onara Kale Onara Kale Onara | Romul Saxon Romul Saxon Romul Saxon Romul Saxon

Equipment: Beskar'Gam l Beskar Knife l Jetpack l Combat Rifle l Wrist Mounted rocket launcher x3 each wrist l Light Saber


Stolen Uniform

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Mae was happy to see the others turn and make notice of the horde behind her, but had a look of surprise and shock as the thermal detonator was thrown by her. Before the others could signal to use their jet-packs, she was one step ahead of them as she flew past them with hers in half thrust power. She again looked surprised as the three flew directly in the direction of another horde of the creatures. Mae raised her saber but before she could cut her way through them, bolts of frozen plasma whipped past her and into the creatures shattering them. Nifty trick she though to herself but was again taken quickly be surprise and out of her thoughts as one of the creatures that had narrowly escaped the fate of being frozen and shattered, lunged at her. She spun, which was tricky with her jet-pack still in action and swung her saber removing its head. As she flew by she looked back at the lifeless and headless body, glad to see that it could not act without its head, like the ones could earlier even while cut in half. She glanced behind her and yelled at the other two, "Go for the heads!"
 

Karkosuchus

Guest
K






Karkosuchus slowly climbed up the stairs; dragging the 10 zombies behind him via a long rope. The loud horde of zombies behind him grew ever closer and he moved faster and faster towards the exit to the roof. Shutting the door behind him after getting the captured zombies past it. Locking the door with a broken handle which would hold them off for a short while. He carried himself over to the ledge and jumped off the roof with the zombies in toe; smashing down into the water filled bottom and out of the entrance gate with a giant fist punch which cracked the wall that supported it. Allowing him towards his speeder bike that he had used to arrive here.

A small bite alerted him to something behind him; one of the zombies had bitten his tail but with his scales being incredibly hard. The outbreak would not cause him to turn into a zombie but would render him a carrier of it. Spreading it to whatever system he went after leaving Scarif. Looping the rope onto the speeder bike handle and making sure that the zombies were secured. He pushed the handle as the engines kicked to life and zoomed him away from the doomed nakaioma corporation complex on the planet.

His eyes scanned the horizon around him and found a mandalorian shuttlecraft that was badly damaged; and swerved over to it. Swinging his right leg over the bike; Karkosuchus moved to inspect it and found it within good enough operational order to fly it to a nearby system for repairs. Kicking the engine box a couple of times to the sound of it starting up. Loading up his speeder bike into the shuttle and storing the zombies within the back of the shuttle.

Karkosuchus sat within the command seat within the shuttlecraft and gently pulled the engines upwards to a slow lift. Climbing higher and higher through the atmosphere until reaching the orbit. Clicking the hyperspace button as the shuttle jumped into hyperspace towards the system specified by Saro Nakaioma Saro Nakaioma to be the drop off zone for his shipment of the undead.



 


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S U R R O U N D E D

Objective: Survive
Tag: Fenn Stag Fenn Stag | Tyrias Aran Tyrias Aran | Kale Onara Kale Onara | Mae Tecono Mae Tecono

The horde that faced them was not so thick once Romul and his small band pressed forward. Perhaps it was their courage and ferocity that was thinning the infected's ranks. Or perhaps they were only fighting through the dregs as the center of the horde pushed towards a more tempting target. A more succulent meal.

Either way Romul would not compain. The fierce scratches by the infected only left faint lines on the Warmaster's power armor, less than inneffective. He lead the charge himself, slamming down infected, crushing in their skulls, ripping them limb to limb. He used his bare hands as much as he used his blaster rifle, for a blaster rifle was good against the living, but these things. . . these monsters didn't feel pain the way normal living creatures would. Only a blaster bolt to the head would incapacitate them, otherwise they would shrug all other wounds and keep advancing.

"FORWARD," Romul thundered. "THE ONLY WAY IS FORWARD. RETREAT MEANS DEATH, FOR ALL OF US." If they fell back, their one opportunity to possibly escape the compound would be gone forever. Whatever was distracting the infected would not last for long. They had to try pushing out, or risk utter annihilation.

 




Equipment: Beskar'Gam l Crushgaunts l Disruptor Pistol l Beskar Knife l Jetpack l Combat Rifle l Combat Stims l Cigar and a lighter l Wrist Mounted Flamethrower l x3 Grenades

Tags:

Romul Saxon Romul Saxon l Kale Onara Kale Onara l Mae Tecono Mae Tecono l Tyrias Aran Tyrias Aran


The infected kept coming, assaulting the Strike Team's position. Another man was enveloped, screaming as he was torn asunder. He died fighting, flamethrowers cooking and melting the infected that attacked him.

It was something out of the nightmares of children, incomprehensible violence and horror on a cosmic level. What man, what creature, what God, what spirit, would send forth these abominations? Fenn was only certain of one possibility: the things he faced were not of man, but of Hell. Hell wrought forth before Fenn. It was not the Gods, the Masters, the Jedi, the Sith that brought this plague to the galaxy once more.

Fenn was facing hell itself, demons walking the cosmos.

Fenn's strike team, outnumbered and endangered, was cut down significantly- and was facing certain death, before the arrival of a Chiss woman. Fenn only had a few moments to admire her strength and beauty and weaponry, before facing the daunting task ahead of them of fighting back to the elevator. They had a reasonable exit, but without a hefty distraction, they were fighting an uphill, and most likely, losing battle. Even with Romul's fight, they were simply outnumbered and outmaneuvered in the small space.

As the team fell back, one Commando stopped, looking back to the rest of the team. He looked directly at Fenn. Fenn's HUD clocked him as "Astor". He motioned for him to continue to fall back. Astor looked back at the shuffling horde, shaking his head. Astor dropped his rifle, as it was nearly empty. He held out a hand, for another weapon. One of the other Commandos obliged, handing him a Disruptor pistol, and a thermal detonator.

Astor turned to the shuffling horde, which stopped, fresh from the kill of one of the other Commandos. He stopped and looked at Fenn, reaching up to his helmet, crushgaunts gently removing his bucket.

Fenn stared, looking back at his own face. Older, scarred. One of the original clones. Bred for war, like him. But dying. Fenn understood immenesely everything about him in a moment's glance. He was out of time already. Born to die. But he wanted to choose how he ended. And saving his comrades, buying the younger men some time.

Astor charged, disappearing in a horde of infected. He screamed, in pain and in rage. Fenn began to backstep, only catching a brief moment where Astor was laughing, clutching the thermal detonator as the team rounded a corner, laughing.

As the team began to run with the Chiss- stopping only briefly to examine another unknown Mandalorian who advised them to take aim to the heads. Nothing was as it seemed here. Everything was wrong. There were too many variables here now. He wondered even if he was told the truth of why he came here in the first place. With less than half the team remaining, the Commandos boldly retreated back to the elevators, intent on escaping with their lives.








 
Kale and Jorin managed to keep pressing their assault until finally the horde line broke away enough for him and Jorin to hook up with their fellow warriors. Kale did a quick scan and identified all the other Mando'ade that were fighting for their lives while Jorin found a computer terminal and fed a data spike into the system. With the main computer occupied mostly with the self-destruct sequence, it only took a few seconds to download a schematic of the the facility. "Buir! There's another vent shaft about 200 yards away! We can call the ship and jetpack to the surface from there."

Kale nodded before looked at his scan result. He identified Romul Saxon leading the group they just broke through a horde of zombies to reach. Other hordes seemed to be closing on them from all sides except from where Kale and Jorin came from. Checking the countdown, Kale saw that they had 29:17 remaining. Taking a deep breath, Kale looked at Saxon, "Warmaster! If you can have your front runners cover our flanks, my adiik and I will plow the trail sir." He then turned and nodded to Jorin "Let's do this!" . The two of them reset themselves and began moving advancing continuing their Fire and Ice assault upon the hordes that stood between the Mando'ade and their nearest exit from this nightmare.
 

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