Devils... Monsters...

Sala'dine · Apr 29, 2019

She was looking and listening as more arrived, rushing towards the planet and the first recon crafts came in with information. THe redirected station coming. "Expansionary station is moving into position, we are seeing a while lot admiral." There was a look on her face as the scans and information came back to her going through the computers. "Bring up all of our information from previous engagements. Usually by now Yasha or Kaine would have talked and justified what they were doing... why they were here for whatever reason." Her hand came up and she tapped her chin as the shield gate of the station was being set up to start and funnel it.

"Admiral we have mandalorian and CIS ships jumping into the system plus more alerts from the network." She nodded her head to that. "Alright, start flagging ships and change status as needed when more information comes in. I want the designs and symbols on the ship going through the computers. Compare it to the last two engagements with the Empire's armadas and send the information to Admiral [member="John Locke"] first. Have shadow wing ready to go but make sure that shield gate it secured. We'll block them in and then we are going to handle the problem." She was looking at it while she brought up the hardlight from the previous engagements.

"What are we not seeing?" THe ships were not new being used, they weren't even similar to the ships from previous engagements. Her eyes flicking over it while the BAC within the shadow brought up indicators based on their information. THe bridge officers were remaining at the ready when the scout ships went back into the hanger. "ORders?" SHe thought about it and there was plenty off about this... mostly it was easy and went against the narrative the mandalorian empire constantly tried to push on people. THat they were the heroes or the other side was wrong. This played out like it was solely meant to invoke irrational feelings.

"Orders are to deploy soldiers to back up the ground forces, what we have here is either a new approach where they are showing their true face, or someone pretending they are a mandalorian based of of stories about them living for conquest. Either way it requires more information not less so I want someone alive and I want one of those ships even if we have to cannibalize and rebuild it from the pieces of however many they have." She was looking at the crew as they went into the orders and spoke. "Admiral Locke, based on our previous engagements this is either something new or someone playing at it. Even mandalorians as violent as they are make an attempt for a challenge."

She looked at it and tapped to bring up some ifnormation "This looks more like when the younglings were killed unless Munin clan years ago." [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] and the Rekali's had responded as she recalled and the Levantines helped with some of the refugees from that attack but mostly it had been a slaughter. She tapped her chin thankful for well records and keeping track of the past. She started to send the information to Admiral Locke and Quee. Where they would be able to work though. "Prepare to launch fighters, I want us to start aiding the ground and reinforcing the sheild gate... and try to disable and capture one of those ships."

Sko'saht · Apr 29, 2019

Location: Aboard the H-2 Executive Shuttle Wasp, landing pad 6 on Umbara
Objective: Challenge the leader
Allies: SJO
Enemies: Mandos, @Kirchenhof
Equipment: In Bio
Post 1

The Verpine eyed the comm signals that came in along with his ships own sensors. Mandalorian's had entered the atmospehere bearing the markings of Clan Cadera, it has been awhile since he'd had any sort of dealings with the current main clans and now here they were. Taking his helmet and securing it to his head he checked over the status of his armor. If the Mandalorian's dared to attack then he had to deal with it and who better to stop a Mandalorian then another Mandalorian. Opening the comms to broadcast across all frequencies his antenna twitched as he started to speak. There was one sure way of getting these Mando's off planet.

"Aruetyc aruetii, Ni at gar alorir. Hailir gar cetare ti sila hut'uun, gar troan Sko'saht Vereen. Narir va jurkadir ni."

This should get the attention of these attackers, a direct challenge to the leader of the attack would be extremely hard to ignore when it came from another Mandalorian. Calling their courage into question and saying they were non-mandalorian should help even more. If they failed to respond they'd lose face and it'd be extremely easy to start sowing discontent with the leadership. It also should stop them from simply blasting his shuttle on it's pad which could be quite unfortunate. Tying the ship's comms into his helmet he opened the door to the shuttle and made his way out in black painted bes'kar with a shatter pistol in his hand.

Translation: "Traitorous outsiders, I challenge your leader. Fill your boots with piss cowards, you face Sko'saht Vereen. Do not mess with me."

Vilaz Munin · Apr 29, 2019

Location: Umbara Capital
Allies: [member="Droz Munin"] | [member="Esvan Verd"] | [member="DT-2319"]
Enemies: SJO and Allies
Objective: Slaughter
Gear:

Armor
Beskad
Rifle
Knife
Pistols (2)
Tomahawk
Concussion Grenades (2)
Thermal Detonators (2)
EMP Grenades (2)

Relentless

Inexorable

Dogged

The very definitions of those words were accurate ones to describe the man Vilaz was, along with other grim vocabulary that people would dub on the Mandalorian. Many have called him a barbaric monster, indiscriminately preying on people no matter how strong or weak they were. A majority of them were weak, allowing the sins of sloth and gluttony to consume them and giving them a grand delusion of peace amongst the stars. The many insults and remarks those mouths have uttered was something the Munin appreciated, not enraged by their comments. He knew what he was and gladly accepted it.

He was the strong, not the weak.

He was the butcher, not the livestock.

He was the hunter, not the prey.

"The strong will take what they want, and the weak will suffer what they must," his cold, yet calm voice spoke in the encrypted channels he and his warriors shared. Already his clansmen boots touched the earth of Umbara, unleashing their havoc and fury on the inhabitants. That could only bring a sinister grin on his face, only to hide it from his warriors. Though he was sure many had their lips in a smile.

"Let Umbara be dawned with a red sun from the blood of these aruetiise! No mercy, only wrath," and was followed with war cries just before his dropship came at the altitude to let them fly out in their aerial devices. War and death would plunder the great capital of Umbara, and while many would know by now that warriors of Clan Cadera were the ones that orchestrated this device all credit would be awarded to Clan Munin.

Something that the Silver Jedi and their allies would not know, only Vilaz and his fellow associates.

His warriors would shout out phrases in relations to Clan Cadera, the Mandalorian Empire and its Sole Ruler as they begun their massacre. By the end of this Umbara would be littered with corpses, buildings scorched, and treasure plundered no matter its currency.

Where are your saviors now?

Just as he gunned down retreating civilians, all limp on the floor.

So far we have no intentions of doing any fleeting, that'll be background noise. That can change, but in the meantime we're only looking forward to some PvP and ground combat. Thanks!

WolfMortum · Apr 29, 2019

Starship: "The Judiciary" Heavy Assault Cruiser.

NPC's: Senior Officers.

Location: Umbara Space.

Tags: [member="Coren Starchaser"], [member="Sala'dine"], [member="Gir Quee"], [member="John Locke"].

By the time the Judiciary leaped out of it's FTL Channel and into open space with Umbara in sight, Caedyn would have likely made it below deck to the main hangar. Veiere would have liked to be there to fight alongside him, however his responsibilities were to his crew and to the rest of the Silver Naval Forces that were arriving to defend the World from the Mandalorian invaders. "Shields to full" Commander Ansion called to Ensign Saikeri Nurou’n who was stationed at the chief engineering terminal aboard the Bridge; "Rorik, get the Fleet on the line. Inform them of our arrival and request priority instructions" Veiere's voice accompanied his second in command's, speaking over him to the Twi'lek Lieutenant on Comm's and Navigation's.

[member="John Locke"], [member="Sala'dine"] and [member="Gir Quee"]'s vessels would all receive the message of the Judiciaries arrival, though soon enough there appeared to be Vessels of the Confederacy entering into Umbarian Space to assist the Order of the Silver Jedi. "Identify those allied vessels, send through an IFF, make sure they have our number" Veiere turned back to look to Jacinder Rorik briefly once again, wanting to make certain that those of the CiS wouldn't be required to guess the identity of the Heavy Assault Cruiser; their identification on display for any scanning them.

"Ground Forces are away, Captain" Lieutenant William Pearson announced from the Security station, "Eta-4's on escort" he concluded. Veiere nodding once and turning back to stare out through the viewing screen, his thoughts moving to his Son who would be descending shortly through the atmosphere aboard one of those troop drop-ships. Between the Varactyl's, the Crawler's and the CAV.'s, Caedyn Arenais would hopefully be given plenty of cover down there on the front-lines.

"Captain, the Mace Windu's intercepted a second Mandalorian fleet and they appear to be disengaging" Rorik exclaimed, John Locke's fleet having reached and opened up communications with [member="Aeden"] Miles who appeared to be compliant. "Bernard, take us out to rendezvous with Admiral [member="Sala'dine"]" Veiere instructed the Ensign at the Helm, "Pearson, continue to monitor our troops heading for the surface. Saikeri, prioritize power to the shields for the time being".

Kishala Vi'dreya · Apr 29, 2019

Kishala Vi'dreya
Location: Spaceport, Capital City, Umbara
Status: Simmering
Interacting with: [member="Kyli Graf"]

Kishala Vi’dreya snarled, her lithe form struggling viciously against the beskar-clad hand that was closed firmly around an arm, all pretenses at preserving her veneer as a lady abandoned in her mounting fury.

It has all started when her personal vessel has landed on her usual spaceport in the capital. While it has been quieter than usual, with the shadow world under the protection of the Silver Jedi Order, the small crew she maintained had no reason to suspect the ambush that awaited them the moment the blast door to her yacht hissed open. Torrents of laser fire had flown across the space, felling the coterie of bodyguards and servants that escorted her when she made her trips offworld.

And then, the survivors of the first purge were dragged out of the vessel, their weaponries seized and any who attempted to resist and escape were executed where they stood. Across the other landing pads of the spaceport, many others shared similar fates as Mandalorians bearing the colours and sigils of Clan Cadera and its’ Mand’alor went about their self-imposed mission of carnage, carrying it out with a ruthless efficiency that cared not for the plight of the innocents.

Though her body trembled in the unknown warrior’s grasp, her gaze remained defiant as she looked up at the shrouded features of her to-be executioner. Forced to her knees, with a bruise forming on a cheekbone and a trail of blood leaking from the corner of her lips, the pale lady refused to beg. For she knew that none of the beings that surrounded them would show mercy, nor would her pride as a scion of House Vi’dreya allow for her to disgrace herself in such a manner.

I dare you, her eyes conveyed her thoughts silently to the warrior standing before her, the barrel of his blaster resting lightly against her forehead.

She will survive, and she will remember today.

Every bruise that they inflict on her pale skin.

Every drop of blood that they spill from her body.

For such humiliation to her person, she will exact an insurmountable toll. She will break and crush the wills of these uncivilised warmongers until they were nothing more than slavering dogs beneath her feet. She was the daughter of Demia Vi’dreya, and half-sister to Isley Verd. While she was frail in body, her mind was sharp and keen. And with her patience reaching the end of its tethers, Kishala was about to show these lesser beings why she has never needed armour nor weaponries.

In her ire, the silver of her pupils to gain a cast of gold around its edges. The air around her grew dark and corrupted as the aether witch began to gather and draw her aura around her like a cloak.

Kier Grey · Apr 29, 2019

Sergeant "Vetka Hal"
Umbara Surface, Capital City, Interstellar Spaceport, Extrasolar Terminal.
Tags: [member="Adron Malvern"], [member="Cotan Sar'andor"], [member="Coren Starchaser"], [member="Caedyn Arenais"], [member="Droz Munin"], [member="Horus Arseneau"], [member="Esvan Verd"], [member="John Locke"], @Gerad Nahaan, [member="Kishala Vi'dreya"], [member="Vilaz Munin"], [member="Veiere Arenais"], [member="Tanomas Graf"]
Nearby/Interacting: [member="Kishala Vi'dreya"]

Earlier that dusky "Morning" the five Coruscant Security Force Officers were cramped into a speeder far away from Umbara's Capital City. Each of them wearing their Navy Blue Reinforced Duraplast Plates over Tan fatigues along with the ubiquitous one-piece visor helmets of their organisation.

"Well, that was fun, wannit?" Security Officer Miele or "M" as he been referred to while working with the Umbara Constabulary had a working-class accent the type you encountered on Tattooine farms, his Galactic Basic Accent grating and unpleasant, offensive even against the ears.

Artario laughed haughtily at his Junior's naivete. "As fun as armed offender training can be! Hope to whatever gods you Worship Miele that you never have to use this kind of training." It prompted Vlastni one of the Officers in the passenger seat beside the driver to look over their shoulder to the commotion happening across the three backseats. An interesting clash of experienced policing and youthful enthusiasm was occurring.

Vlastni's swarthy lips part behind his visor as the Speeder Car's repulsors hummed to life, Sergeant G. climbing behind the Driver's wheel. It was a cramped vehicle some coupe-type thing certainly not something five Officers would be comfortable in for the whole drive back to the Capital City's spaceport from the remote Umbaran Constabulary training range. "Down in my Security Area Command, we have several armed offender calls per shift." it almost sounded like Vlastni was complaining.

Sergeant 'V' or 'H' as they had been known while working alongside the Umbaran constables chimed in, their voice modulated to a deep baritone by their helmet. "You volunteered for Tactical Operations Division, so don't be complaining about having criminals take shots at you in the Coruscant Underworld of all places." The Sergeant paused pulling away from a several inch high curbs, for whatever they were worth nowadays most Citizens even this far away from the Core still possessed repulsor transport.

Kaedor was reading his CORSECFOR issued notebook between the arguing Miele and Artario in the back-seat listening to the pair before finally speaking up, the Lieutenant had sufficient rank and authority to shut them all up in a heartbeat if they so desired but Kaedor fifty something years old found that moments like this were good opportunities for Officers to learn from one another. "So what you can all agree upon is that armed offender training is a valuable asset to Coruscant Security Force and that it was time well spent, correct?"

Artario's face behind his visor pulled into an amused sneer holding his gloved hands up in the air. "Anything that pulls me away from my in-laws is time well spent, Sir." The remark earned a chuckle from everybody inside the cabin excepting Sergeant Hal who brooded in their silence.

Smiling the young and talented Miele couldn't help but interject in happy agreement while rubbing hand in a swirling motion over the stomach. "Oh mate, the food was bloody good eh? I miss me Mum's food though." The Officers continued bantering, Vetka and Kaedor made eye-contact from behind their visors through the rear-vision mirror and shared a knowing nod, the two of them didn't interrupt the conversation because despite the helmets you could still feel the smiles.

Hours passed and the five tired Coruscant Security Force Officers stood in-line to check-in at the spaceport conspicuously still in their tan fatigues and Navy-Blue Reinforced Duraplast Armour panels. Vetka breathed an unnecessary sigh bordering an irritated growl levied at the pale Umbaran Staff Member. "Understood, Sir." She pivoted angrily in boots towards the others glaring angrily towards Artario. "I told you we should have left earlier, now we've got to run get out of our uniforms and appointments, store them in our checked-in luggage and get back here within ten minutes or we're going to be stuck on Umbara and explaining to Colonel Wilso that we neglected to thoroughly read our carrier's armour and weapons policy." Even though the vocal distorter, one could easily hear the icy bite intoned.

Throwing her gloved hands into the air while walking towards the spaceport bathrooms beneath a glasteel canopy that flooded the marble floor with moonlight. "Sorry Sarge, I just thou-" Miele standing between the two halves of walking Officers was crushed under the boot-heel of a drop pod with a Cacophonous earth-shattering ear-splitting crash sending shattered glass throughout the lobby. Immediately, Citizens started screaming and Vetka felt their body lift clear off the ground, briefly catching a glimpse of the ceiling behind their aqua cracked visor and slid across the floor like a sleigh.

Four Mandalorian warriors emerged from their durasteel cocoon brandishing double-sided blades, one of them hefted an ornate crimson broadsabre into the air marking themselves out as an Officer or leader of sorts not that Vetka initially saw it while struggling to sit-up placing one-hand behind back to find the pistol grip of her short-barrel DC-15, she groaned bones and sinews crackled and snapped painfully. "No mercy for the weak Brothers!" It snarled through reptilian nostrils, a thin dish of metal embedded itself cruelly above Vetka's right knee fetid acrid smelling blood steadily oozed onto the floor. "Take no prisoners!" The great tall green lizard stomped towards Vetka and chuckled in a wet ugly rockslide while his comrades brandishing their swords and carving knives descended on the dead and dying Citizens who attempted to flee in vain on their hands and knees.

"I'd recognize a Coruscant cop anywhere, your head is barely worth taking. But this far away from your precious core, Officer. I can't resist such an uncommon prize." Clawed fingers smashed across Vetka's helmeted head, its' hermetic seal already damaged the Navy Blue helmet flew straight from the Sergeant's skull revealing a skull draped in maple-brown hair, the Trandoshan's sharp fingernails scraped her cheek lacerating it. Sergeant Hal's hazel spheres stared back into the Reptile's void-black slits for pupils and then shot him square in the snout. The other three warriors immediately paused their attempted to murder Vetka's comrades and the surgically and chemically-augmented supersoldier's sour-smelling blood flooded with adrenaline their sensory nerves dulled she felt no pain in those moments which passed slowly, oh so slowly.

Two of the Human Mandalorian warriors were shot through the narrow gap between their clavicles and chin severing the spinal cord introducing an instantaneous painless and ultimately merciful death. That's when it happened, Vetka's blaster jammed and the woman jerked their weapon's trigger in rapid succession before curling and hurling it at the bucket over her opponent's head. "Ah, she has teeth!" The Warrior chopped at her just after the Officer picked up the fallen Trandoshan's broadsabre and Vetka gracefully pivoted deftly avoiding the swing of his blade before delivering a kick to the chest following up by an unusually high leap towards the Supercommando at which pointed without making any sound with her mouth cannoned the blade straight through his faceplate.

Kaedor watched Sergeant "Hal" who he knew in truth was Kyli Graf beautifully destroy not one, not two but four Mandalorian Warriors with such speed he couldn't tell which of the second or third she'd shot first. He'd barely rolled back over and struggled to peer through an utterly broken visor at the debris and limb-strewn scene when it all occurred. With a groan, the middle-aged Lieutenant breathed sharply. "Nice work Sergeant." Managing to draw his own service weapon the Coruscant Security Officers formed up, fire sprinklers sprayed water all over the blood-streaked marble floor, sirens wailed loudly and Citizens fled in every direction. Artario groaned and held up a hand towards Kaedor and Vetka.

"Kae, Vet. I can't feel my legs!" He sobbed pressed up against a pillar he looked down and found a deep laceration through his tan fatigues, underlying bodysuit straight down to the bone. "This cut, it's bad." He gasped, Kaedor immediately opened a First Aid Kit and began tying a tourniquet. Vlastni who stumbled around with a concussion offered some fumbling assistance to the Lieutenant and glanced over to the stain beneath the drop-pod and what was left of a friend. "Miele...." he muttered sadly.

Kyli unfolded the stock attached to DC-15 Blaster Rifle and shouldered it firmly covering the Lieutenant and Artario. "We've got to get moving." She said with re-assuring steadiness streams of blood trickled down the cheek and oozed out of both nostrils. Glancing back over the shoulder towards Artario and Kaedor she found the former hauled over the latter's back. Hazel Eyes craned upwards to examine the services on a holoboard hanging tenuously from the ceiling. "They're all canceled, but there was a private service on landing pad number seventeen. We might be able to secure it and evacuate some Civvies." A few Umbarans and hopeful tourists began to gather around the uniformed albeit battered Coruscant Security Officers. "Want to live? Follow us and stay close. We'll get you out of here alive." Only the mad would have refused with the sound of distant blaster fire closing in rapidly.

It was a long vicious and desperate gauntlet beset on all sides by murderers and psychopaths through the terminal to reach landing pad number seventeen and of the two dozen Civilians who followed only four remained by the time they arrived at a closed Bulkhead door, after Vlastni managed to slice it open from a nearby security computer the scene revealed was one of Mandalorian Empire warriors gunning down a wealthy entourage. Kyli ran forward of Vlastni and Kaedor ignoring her sensory nerves still ignored the pain of her severe injuries, predatory pupils and Iris focused in like a hawk on a party of Brigands and his co-murderers accosting a familiar ashen-haired woman. Kishala might have seen the Bulkhead open on the landing pad's opposite side across a ferrocrete tarmac cast under the moon's pale light.

An azure-blue bolt whistled straight through the temple of her Captor's cranium and no sooner than the man's corpse hit the floor Kyli had fired no more than once at the other men where the pelvis met the spine through the lumbosacral region. If it didn't kill them it paralyzed them from the waist-down rendering them unable to stand, the unmistakable precision and accuracy of a surgeon turned to warfare.....A sniper. Kyli then bravely marched across the tarmac sparing a glance towards shuttle to witness its' crews slaughtered bodies fluttering in the wind. Their garb was that of wealth although Kyli couldn't pick its' style she was no fashionista, though her First Order days were long over the boiling anger that flooded through her dilated veins like poison and compelled reprisal. "Lady Vi'dreya?"

"Kyle!" Lieutenant Kaedor reached out with a pleading hand across the tarmac and stopped the Sergeant just shy of executing the dying Mandalorian men, she turned lazily her muscles twitched violently still holding her blaster rifle in both hands with barrel aimed squarely at one of the struggling warriors' heads. "Stand down Sergeant!" The gaze that stared back at him across the seventy-five meter width was that of a Stormtrooper and even the Lieutenant who had worked several homicides and gang cases was unnerved even terrified by the woman, a few Officers quietly regarded her as a "Freak" or "Mutant" for her Physical capabilities which were unbelievable to witness.

Kyli gave a derisive kick to one of the downed warriors who writhed pathetically on the floor like some gormless worm, she visibly snarled towards one of them. "You make me sick, killing unarmed Civilians. You're pathetic." The Coruscant Security Force Sergeant nodded gesturing to the slain retainers around Kishala, steadily lowering her Blaster Rifle's ironsight from the prostrated Warrior's helmet who predictably pleaded before expiring in a long drawn-out breath alongside the other Cadera Clansmen.

Gianna Aegis · Apr 29, 2019

Location: Umbara [Space-Aboard the Mace Windu]

Tagging: [member="Aedan Miles"] | [member="John Locke"]

______________

Pale green eyes looked out across the bridge of the Mace Windu with a certain level of concern. Her stomach felt low, truthfully, but there was always a reason for the changes she felt in the Force. The crimson-haired Jedi had taken to occasionally keeping [member="John Locke"] company during his exploits, but, she had never expected this sort of maelstrom upon their return. He was an old friend with whom she could have a cup of tea with, discuss the secrets of the universe, and share a few fresh baked cookies.

This was not the afternoon that they had planned.

"John…"

Slender digits reached out to touch the arm of the Admiral and she turned the negative energy away. Instead, she pressed a feeling of warmth and light, doing her best to be an anchor while his face paled. She could feel the same surprise, however, her perpetual need for balance overwhelmed any sense of astonishment. Gianna would be a pillar of strength to him whilst he demanded that the encroaching Mandalorian power down his ship's weapons and shields.

Her eyes flared with soft caution. She did not know this War Master personally but she did often have her ear to the ground. She had traveled from one end of the galaxy to the other. His reputation clearly preceded him, though, she didn’t know everything. She couldn't make the personal assumptions that he believed they would have personal knowledge of. He was a War Master of Mandalore. That was bad enough. Gianna shook her head slowly when [member="Aedan Miles"] declined what John had asked for in favor of something he referred to as meeting them halfway. "Half measures are better than none…But it is a danger all the same.", her soft voice carried easily, sweeter than honey, but it was clear that she was focused.

It seemed that they would have no say in the matter as the corrective measures were taken shortly thereafter by the man who had once, or perhaps still did, refer to himself as a Pirate King. His attempt at negotiation was, truthfully, too little too late. Gianna wanted to believe in the noble goodness that he put fourth but her rational mind knew not to ignore the raw data. How could one who stole for a living be completely trusted? The word of a Mandalorian did not hold the weight. It could not.

"He may not intend for violence, yet, it is already here. The timing is extremely concerning."

Lavender eye-lids closed over jade pearls and her head tilted while she reached out in the Force. It had led her through every hardship she had ever faced for better or worse. She had faith in it. Her consciousness slipped, briefly, while images of wanton brutality filled her head. The Capital of Umbara had been turned into a massacre. She breathed as bodies fell, and her shoulders tightened, while the words of the Mandalorian warriors below rang in her mind.

No mercy. No mercy for the weak, Brothers.

Take no prisoners.

"The data will be coming in from the surface soon. You will not like what you see."

Gianna knew that much of the data for their surrounding area was arriving in droves, but truthfully, space was rather quiet aside from the arrival of a potentially hostile Mandalorian fleet. The real travesty was taking place on the ground, where people were dying, falling, in droves.

"They say Clan Cadera has come. They say…For Mand'alor…"

Her eyes closed again, briefly, while they awaited the War Master. Her patience was nigh infinite, but the deepest parts of her, hidden away, wept for the loss of life on the planet below them. Every fiber of her being ached. This intervention needed to happen quickly so that they could focus on stopping the ground assault. Every second wasted, every moment, was another son, daughter, mother, or father slipping away without reason or cause.

It felt like the fall of Coruscant. It felt like the stories of Eshan. Blood, death, and ash.

Scherezade deWinter · Apr 29, 2019

Some people, had to be sent to Umbara. Some people, were already there.

Scherezade leaned against the wall of the building in Umbaran Capital City Center, glowing green eyes searching the dark skies. There was a beauty to the planet, in a way that not even the Nightlands of Ryloth held. There was something about it that beckoned to her, reminded her of the earlier days out of the pebble in which everything was new and shiny and beautiful and safe. And a lie.

She and [member="Razelle Breuner"] had been there for a day and a half by now, trying to sniff intel out about the Umbaran Cartel. Scherezade couldn't really say she was a fan of it; as with most missions, her fortes included taking her blades and sticking them inside of people. But this sort of mission required a completely different set of skills; skills that she was still learning, thanks to the involvement of her godmother now in her life.

She'd just been about to ask the other woman a question, when the super sikrit commdevice send a tiny pulse through her body, announcing a message.

Scherezade scrolled over it, raising an eyebrow.

"Hey Raz?" she asked, "I know the whole anti-Mando crap is something my family shares. Do you share it? Because we're about to go kill Mandalorians, unless you'd rather focus on saving civillians, in which case we can rendezvous at the dockyard later."

Srina Talon · Apr 29, 2019

Location: Geonosis [Golbay City]

Tag: [member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Adron Malvern"] | [+Any others]

A loud crash echoed from the monochromatic offices of the female Exarch of the Confederacy. What followed was a deadly silence. The secretaries that sat outside of the well defended room glanced at one another, with simulated expressions, that depicted clear apprehension. They were both droids that had worked with Srina Talon since the beginning of her tenure…But things were different now. She had changed measurably, since the events of not only Eshan, but Kuat. Something had broken within the glacier Echani that would not soon be repaired.

"Should we…Check?"

"No, no. You know the Exarch likes her privacy."

The door snapped open and the identical units tried not to jump. Their personality matrices were set to be adaptive, however, it was impossible keep adjusting for the mood swings of the small Echani female. One look at her face, one analysis, told them what they needed to know.

Exercise caution. Extreme, caution.

"The Veil is in the orbit of Geonosis. Ensure that it is ready to leave, along with stealth complements, within the hour. Exarch Malvern and I will be departing for Umbara imminently. Inform the Vicelord of the correct docking port should he choose to join us."

[member="Darth Metus"] was a very busy man, however, he had always made time for her. Srina did not expect him to drop everything to attend to the plight of the Silver Jedi, however, she knew that he would put his utmost efforts into dispelling the Mandalorian threat from the sovereign territory of their ally. The Echani waited for her personal assistants to attend to her needs before she pressed forward. Moments later, would lead her the shuttle that [member="Adron Malvern"] had obtained, and she brushed past his Knights that guarded the entrance with ease. While they had been instructed to keep most at bay—She was not most people.

Silver eyes bled gold while anger swept through her. These were the very same creatures who had thought to orbitally bombard her home not so long ago. The people who had introduced her to [member="Kaine Australis"], a man, whom had tried to end her life on more than one occasion. She supposed it was fair. If they crossed paths again, her indecision had been removed, courtesy the decimation of Eshan. Her planet was still wounded. Still grieving. From both battles.

She slid into the empty seat beside one of her closest friends and smoothed out the pale-blue traveling cloak that hid what she had worn to work that day. "Inform Alessandra that you will not be home this evening. She will miss you. She will not like it that you will miss dinner tonight."

The dialogue was surprising, considering the context, but it made the point clear that they were gong to take quite a long walk to see what was happening. It was reminiscent of the Inquisition of Kuat, however, that adventure had only brought death and pain. Diplomacy had been entirely wasted efforts when a bomb went off, and left her injured, with a mask still covering half of her face. Her Master had died. Her fiancée had nearly died.

No more. The Silver Jedi could well take care of themselves—But could they do what needed to be done? Would they?

For the Mandalorians that dared bleed another world; there would be no peace. Not ever. Not even when their sad souls returned to what was left of the Manda.

"The Veil will be ready to depart. I called for similar complements that we took to Copero. Stealth, will be our approach."

Weapons
HG-54 "The Vora" Class Verpine Hand Cannon [Strapped to Waist]
Lightsaber [Red Blade/CrossGuard] [Hidden Under Cloak]
Icefang [Sword]
Holdin' Aces [Ring]
Ring of Aspiration [Ring]
Te'Kyr [Ring]

Armor
Scarlet Vow

Miscellaneous
ORACLE [AI]
Holo-Comm [Communication Device]

Razelle Breuner · Apr 29, 2019

Where: Umbara Capital City
What: Rifle, sidearm, armor, watch, a really basic knife
Who: [member="Scherezade deWinter"]

The Umbaran Cartel had been really irritating to deal with, honestly. Whether or not they were even the cause of the freshly-established Ministry of Secrets' problems, their name came up enough that Razelle didn't feel bad placing all the blame on them. For days now, she and Scherezade had been probing every ounce of Umbara's seedy underbelly for any shred of evidence they'd been responsible for the incident on Manda. So far, they'd found just enough to prove nothing at all. It was vexing. Almost as bad as dealing with a world without sunlight.

At the moment, she was chewing out an informant. Loudly. Over a relatively public channel. Yes, it was sloppy, but if it got them attention, then that was its own sort of victory. "And if he calls you then you call me back immediately, or so help me by the graces of all the gods you've never heard of, I will flay you alive and use your skin as a garrote." Click. She let out a little sigh and rolled her shoulder. Not the worst interaction she'd had. You had to decide how you'd be viewed every time you interacted with a new contact. This one was fearful, so she needed to be the face of his nightmares.

Hm? There was a beep from her chronometer.

...Oh. The planet was under siege. Welp. Time to make for a spaceport. Right Scherez-

"Hm?" Of course. She was a deWinter. She didn't need a justification to hate Mandalorians, and having a justification made her utterly impossible to dissuade. With a quiet sigh, Raz shrugged. "I'm not going to let you go off fighting a war without me, kiddo. Where're we off to?" This was going to be a disaster. She knew it. She was not outfitted for violence, godsdammit. Half her gear was still on the Rime, and that was miles away.

Caedyn Arenais · Apr 29, 2019

Location: Umbarian Capital City.

Objective: Defend the Innocent and re-route Enemy Forces.

Inventory: Caedyn's Jedi Armor | Personal Lightsaber | Heavy Buckler | CS.38 Tactical Side-Arm.

<<Looking for an Opponent>>

The halls of the Judiciary washed over red with the flashing lights and the siren's to accompany the hammering of footsteps as Soldiers and Jedi alike all ran for the primary hangar and began boarding the Drop-ships meant for the ground of Umbara, Caedyn looking to the vessel nearest to him and joining with what appeared to be some form of reconnaissance squad, climbing up onto the deck of the Troop Transport and closing the door behind him, a loud hiss followed by a fine high pitched whine declaring the vessel sealed.

The air about the interior of the ship felt intense, Caedyn's ability to sense the emotions of the men and women aboard the drop-ship sought to encourage his own uneasiness for what was still to come. The Je'daii in him knew that life and death were an inevitable part of the sentient cycle, yet to die unnaturally and at the hands of another, every loss on the battlefield would be felt in the veil of the Force itself. He had experienced this too often already in his young adult life, and judging from what was occurring on Umbara today, this could merely be the beginning of another horrible war. The first civil war between the followers of Bogan and Ashla had set into being, a battle that would continue for centuries ahead; the history between the Mandalorian's and the Silver Jedi were almost similar in a sense to the relationship between the Jedi and the Sith. Both fought for their people and their customs, and both of them felt justified in their choosing to act. Unfortunately, most people found it difficult to acknowledge the fact. For Caedyn, it made the tragedy of war so much worse; that all of this could have been avoided, if only people had it in them to show consideration and respect for others, those who had the same rights to life as their own...

"Ready yourselves, we're about to enter into the Atmosphere, expect turbulence people!" the commanding officer on board their dropship announced across the intercom system, the voice coming in louder than the sounds of the sudden jarring pressures that shook the sides, what had been empty weightless space, soon changing to turbulent winds and a flaring of heat and flame around the base of the vessel as they pushed through the orbit and down into the skies of the Umbarian world. A single minute passed them by as if it were mere seconds, and next thing Caedyn heard was the same voice calling to them to brace themselves, the repulsorlifts firing on full and causing gravity to swell down on top of them, Caedyn feeling as if he was being thrown about and rather smaller looking in physique compared to those whom were armed to the teeth with armor and the like.

Orders were being given, the men and women were gearing up and double checking their firearms and armaments during the final moments. When the doors to the sides of the Drop-ship opened once more, the Capital City of Umbara surrounded them, as did the blaster fire being shared by friend and foe alike. Caedyn was among the first to step out onto the field of battle, his lightsaber igniting with a flash of a cyan blade, the snap hiss and consistent thrum of energy being channeled and controlled through the Hilt creating that extra bit of confidence in the soldiers that followed him, all filing out and taking to their surroundings intent on defending the Umbarian people.

Decious · Apr 29, 2019

Location: Umbara, Umbaran Capital City
Objective: Engage the Mandalorian forces
Allies: CIS/SOJ

As the fighting in the capital city raged on, several CIS drop ships landed just outside of blaster range. The doors to the transports opened and a steady stream of battle droids, super battle droids and tanks rolled out. Leading the pack was Havoc, who unclipped two of his four lightsabers from his waist and ignited the two red blades. "Advance on the city! Target the Mandalorian forces and give no quarter." The contingent of CIS forces marched forward, following Havoc's lead. As they moved closer to the city, the fire picked up more and more. Eventually, sniper shots from an unknown location whizzed down upon them, rendering some of the droids inert.

Havoc did his best to block incoming blaster fire as the fight intensified around him and his men the closer to the city they got. Once they were at their destination, Havoc's forces pushed forward. Officer variant B-1 battle droids led small teams to secure buildings as some of the AAT tanks took up a defensive position in the streets. Eventually, Havoc came across a young Jedi, [member="Caedyn Arenais"]. He looked down at the man. He deflected a couple more blaster shots before ducking down to take cover before speaking; "What's the situation?" The droid's metallic voice said, trying not to be as intimidating as usual.

Ahron Rol · Apr 29, 2019

Location: Umbarian Capital City.

Objective: "Why am I here?"
Allies: Not the Mandelorians

Ahron walked through the streets of the capital, admittedly, very confused. In the past few days it seemed, her life had gone from relaxing in run down cantina's drugged out of her mind and left very much alone by other people, to having all these people talking to her, bring dragged to parties and meetings, being initiated into a group where everyone not in said group called her a witch, and then sent to a city that was promptly placed under attack by Mandelorians.

She needed better friends.

Regardless, battle raged around her and other than the loose, minimalistic robes covering what everyone else considered important, and a single lightsaber hilt in her hand, she looked very out of place. She had a sleepy look on her face, her movements were slow and disoriented, and her walking was staggered and very much so not in a straight line. She looked like she was in shock. She looked down a street, only to see that she had been noticed first by a small fire-team of two mandelorians. They didn't look friendly.

"I'm getting too old for this..." She grumbled, her lightsaber igniting and deflecting the first few shots with lazy sweeps. At least, to her they were lazy. The Mandelorians dropped, and she was left to wonder. Should she kill them? Was that allowed? In this new group, she was unaware if finishing off an enemy was in bad taste. Taste... They did look tasty... Been a while since she had something as lean as a Mandelorian.

As she was caught in her thoughts regarding the potential of eating the two Mandelorians she just dealt with, another had started sneaking up behind her. "Would I get in trouble..." She asked herself, turning her head slightly. "I mean, they're dead... It's a battle field, and a girls gotta eat sometime. Been so long since I've had a meal..." She muttered, lifting a hand in the air casually. The Mandelorian froze. "Of course, it might scare off attackers... Or make them focus on me... Which would be better?" She asked herself, slowly closing her hand, the helmet of the man starting to crumple, before caving in entirely. "Oh well. I suppose I will have to ask whoever my superior is," She said, her tone bored as she looked at the Mandelorian she had just killed.

"Actually, that may have been a bit much," She said, reaching into a pouch hanging from her belt, pouring a couple pills into her hand and popping them into her muzzle. "Of course, what did he expect? Probably something more honourable than that I would suppose," She sighed, letting out a frustrated groan. "It was so much easier when I served the Ikate Keda. Kill the enemy, leave no survivors, raze their moral to the ground. Simple. Easy. Very little to get lost in the fine print!"

John Locke · Apr 29, 2019

Location: Umbaran space

Tagging: [member="Gianna Aegis"] | [member="Sala'dine"] | [member="Aedan Miles"]

John's attention was dragged away from the viewscreen by the petite woman at his side, the cyborg turning on his heel as she spoke, dark eyes settling on her face as the man nodded, his hands clasped helplessly at his sides as his gaze slipped back to the screen, at the three ships hanging there in space in front of them. It was the job of an admiral, for any leader to provide an air of certainty, to be the rock who his crew could lean on when they needed security. Yet for a moment John stepped away from the mask, from the persona he played, the engineer from Corellia who found himself rubbing shoulders with the good and great, with Jedi and Kings, Queens and Presidents peered out from behind his brown eyes, orbs that glittered with uncertainty.

It was the briefest of moment of vulnerability, of honestly before the man's mask rose up again, a soft sigh escaping his lips, "You're not wrong, a half measure could turn around, could bite us when we least expect it, but to do more is to risk the very international incident that we're seeking to avoid. It''s catch-22 all over again. At least, if we can see him in the eyes maybe he'll admit what he's doing here, maybe we can get to the bottom of it." Without thinking about it the man's hands came up, slipping into his pockets absently as he started to pace, feet tapping against the metal of the deck as he travelled the 4 steps back and forth in front of hte command seat. "You know, I thought that when I I got here it would be black and white for once, what are the odds huh?" It seemed like the kind of situation that he was running into more and more, shades of grey abounding in the universe. The communications officer took a step forward, a tablet grasped in her hands that she offered wordlessly to the admiral, his eyes flicking down over the message displayed there. "Please thank Admiral Sala'dine and request she continue streaming us the raw data from the footage to run through our battle computer and CIC. Maybe two different examinations will spot something we might not otherwise." It was a small hope, the crew of the navy trained up to a remarkable level, but even the best made mistakes, and the wise commander was the one who prepared for every contingency. "Also, please a message to Warmaster Miles asking him to join us onboard the Mace Windu and George." John handed hte message tablet back to the communications officer, turning to his chief of staff, "can you arrange for an honour guard of marines to meet him? Despite the situation now he is a person of significant importance within the Mandalorian government, and propriety must be met." Something as simple as an honour guard was the kind of courtesy he hoped would be extended to himself if he was in a similar situation. "You know, I never though I'd be meeting the Pirate King in the flesh." he tilted his head to the side, offering the woman standing next to him a smile. "Not exactly the afternoon I'd promised you huh?"

There was something about the woman's pose that stole the rest of hte words from John's lips, moving a step closer to her, words of concern dying unspoken on his lips as Gianna started talking. John was unable to stop himself his eyes drifting towards the planet, the round ball floating on the viewscreen. From up here you couldn't see what was happening on the surface of the planet but..."contact our ground force," the man's voice was sibilant, quiet. "Get me footage of the surface."

"Admiral."

"NOW"

Silence permeated the bridge, only punctuated the the slap of John falling backwards, landing on the his seat with a thump, the breath stealing away from his pale features as image after image of dead bodies, of Mandalorians gunning down the fleeing civilians played out across the screen. "No...not again."

Aedan Miles · Apr 29, 2019

Aedan nods as he gets the message and stands lifting up the haft that rested by his seat and carrying it with him he strode down into the hangar climbing into his personal fighter before he took off slowly. Mismatched eyes gleaming as he piloted the fighter towards the indicated ships absently sighing as he leaned back grumbling half to himself. "Oh yeah good day for a raid I thought. Should have just ignored this and gone after my original targets." He sighed as the fighter slowed nearing the SJO ships looking them over curiously he couldn't help but to nod as he viewed them. For all the things he couldn't stand Jedi for he gave them this one thing they had some good ships and capable admiralty for them. Setting the fighter down and popping the hatch he climbed out lifting the haft of his weapon out with him as he dropped onto his feet calmly reaching over his shoulder to undo the blade of the weapon carefully holding them out for one of the guard to take. "Please be careful with those especially the blade." He waited for them to start leading before he follow after them the split ends of his long coat whipping behind him as he followed after them calmly. He was here to disavow the fact that these scum were members of the UCM and that this raid was in no way tied to them. He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair muttering under his breath. "Being War Master is harder than being Pirate King. Things were always easier when I was just the Pirate King." He strode along with the honour guard noting how professional they were with an absent minded chuckle. Finally his voice trailed off as his datapad started to chime and he pulled it out looking down to see images that his forces had captured from the ground his mismatched eyes darkening as he growled angrily at what he saw spitting out darkly. "Scum. I hope they are either captured or killed for this."

[member="John Locke"]

Esvan Verd · Apr 29, 2019

Esvan Verd
Marauder | Mercenary | Berserker
Location|| Umbara, Capital City
Allies|| [member="DT-2319"] | [member="Droz Munin"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"] |
Gear|| 1x Assaulter Tachyon Rifle | 2x Thermal Detonators | 2x Smoke Grenades | 1x Standard Blaster Pistol | 1x Kukri Sword (55cm | plasma-filiment)
______________________________________________________

The flamethrower stopped spewing flames once the mandalorian allows his arm to fall to his side. Within his Heads-up-Display, a 'fire' symbol showed up to represent the flamethrower module now automatically connecting to the digital interface inside of Esvan's helmet, now all it would take would be a simple reflex, a simple motion of his left hand to automatically activate the flamethrower strapped below his left wrist. The cost had been high to afford such armor improvements and weapon luxuries, though despite how many credits had to be used, the price was worth it. The same could be said about the cybernetic implant in his right arm. The pain was bearable, the hit to his credits was not as easily borne. But he was a mandalorian, any loss of credits would be replaced by even more.

In this case, blood paid for the credits. As it always did.

Esvan turned to his right, he grabbed the butt of the rifle from his back, disconnecting it from the magnetic disc from which it was attached before bringing it in front of him and holding it with both hands. As the male turned the corner, he was met with a sight of death, bodies lying the street, most of which were dead whereas others were barely clinging to life. Those, those ones were the individuals whom the Verd killed. They were half-dead anyways, he was just finishing up somebody's sloppy job at killing. The male didn't bother to count them, there was no need. He didn't care for statistical numbers of casualties, the only numbers he cared for were the number of credits he was getting paid with.

After the culling of the half-dead umbarans, the mandalorian continued on his way stumbling into a building to his right and kicking the door open with the heel of his armored boot. Inside of the building stood a mass of umbaran men and women. They were all sheep, all huddled together near one another, only they weren't running away, the fools. The Verd leveled the rifle with his eyes, whilst the Heads-up-Display in his helmet pinged each of the umbarans huddled together. The aiming feature didn't allow for the precise targeting of certain areas, it only helped it marking targets and greatly increased accuracy ten-fold when a pistol was in use. With a rife, it only helped to identify targets...he could have bought the cybernetic for his left arm though he didn't have the funds at the time.

Nonetheless, his HUD marked all of the targets and he fired at all marked targets, leaving the smell of super-heated and burned tibanna within the dwelling accompanying the corpses, all of which had searing holes within their flesh. Dead.

"It's nothing personal, just business."

Coren Starchaser · Apr 29, 2019

Really, things moved very quick. Getting to Umbara early was one of things the Mandos hopefully didn’t suspect. Coren was all for giving them the benefit of the doubt, and maybe things weren’t as dire as they seemed. But working from there, once innocents were being fired upon? Yeah, no. And bringing some of the friendlies, others who were going to stay on Kashyyyk? Well, it helped.

Sure, he had to cancel his sparring appointment with Celeste, but he’d get back to that. Besides, he was a fighter. This was a potential fight.

Some Jedi, right?

But Coren wasn’t the free love, hippie trippy Jedi. No. He a Jedi who was forged in fire and war and blood. He stood on Coruscant, doing what he could to prevent the fall. He had fought in many battles, and gone against foes much larger than himself. Some Mandalorians were not going to bother him. But what was going to bother him?

That sound of combat.

Looking to his brother-in-arms, Cotan, Coren nodded. “Change of plans.” There was almost a gleeful lilt to his voice as the Jedi Master. He grabbed his lightsaber and extended the hilt of the lightsaber pike. “Move. We need to find the head of this spear.”

The Force lit up with a bit of power around him. Not the Force Light, but the energy crackled and solidified as the Jedi hurried down the street, towards the gunfire. A rocket was coming down the boulevard to a group of citizens and Coren threw the energy at it, trapping the force of the rocket and driving it down into the street.

“Starchaser to Silver Command. Where do you need me?”

[member="Cotan Sar'andor"]
[member="Adron Malvern"]
[member="John Locke"]
[member="Veiere Arenais"]

Soundwave · Apr 29, 2019

D r o z _ M u n i n

Objective | Slaughter and wreak havoc
Company | Fellow Marauders / Civilians

Droz would clear the docks as he turned to one of them before nodding and gesturing towards the docks, " Set the charges, we'll leave any guests who come from behind a nice little present. " The marauder would nod as she and another one of their own jetpacked off to go plant explosive charges along the docks, ready to detonate in case anyone attempted to land additional support from the CIS or SJO. With all the comm chatter that was being intercepted it seemed that they were going to have a lot more company than expected. No matter, from the news Droz was hearing, Warmaster Miles' arrival was not even a blip on his radar as far as concern went. If anything, his prompt arrival that coincided with their attack only further raised suspicion on behalf of the Mandalorian Empire. A problem turned into a wonderful little bonus. How it brought a grin to Droz's worn face to know that the pompous self proclaimed Pirate King turned Warmaster now had every turbolaser in the system trained on his ships. Perhaps Droz would infiltrate a vessel and start the fireworks upon each other in a grand chaotic crossfire. Just maybe. For now, he had his own objective to carry out and people of importance to meet.

As the Umbaraan docks were being taken under control and trapped up for anyone wishing to come knocking, Droz would take a majority of his marauders to the capital to rendezvous with a majority of the Mandalorians disguised as Clan Cadera. By now the Umbaraan military was being deployed as well as the CIS having arrived fairly swiftly with their own troops. The SJO still retained dominance over the air space, though that shield station would prove to be a nuisance later down the line. Droz had his pistols in hand as his HUD lit up the darkness around him. The planet may have been in eternal night, but that didn't stop him or his marauders from moving with speed. Droz lifted a hand up as his maruaders scattered and disappeared amongst the foliage of Umbaraa, a convoy of troops and vehicles moving to the capital. Droz would gesture with his hand and click his comms twice to signal his marauders. A rocket from one of the marauders would launch from their rocketpack as it sailed and struck the lead vehicle head on, disabling it as it blocked off the road.

Blaster fire subsequently would rain down from above as the Umbaraans, who were usually in their element and had the homefield advantage, suddenly found themselves overwhelmed by the wrath of Mandalorian warriors attacking them from all directions. Several thermal detonators would fly out from the darkness, exploding several vehicles in the rear to cut off retreat before Droz descended from above with his jetpack. He would land amidst a small squad of Umbaraan soldiers, his arm wrapping around the neck of one as he used the Umbaraan soldier as a body shield. With his free hand he would fire off shots at nearby soldiers, penetrating their bodies with blaster bolts. His HUD would chirp in warning from his left, to which he responded by turning the captive Umbaraan to face it as several blaster bolts impacted against his body.

With a corpse now in hand, Droz hefted the body, using it like a riot shield as he pressed the barrel of his blaster against the back of the corpse, running forward towards a trio of soldiers who were more or less fearful of the sight of a dead corpse being run at them. When Droz got close enough he would squeeze the trigger of his blaster pistols, firing a shot through the corpse as it hit the middle soldier in the chest. He'd grunt as he threw the corpse he had in hand towards one of the two remaining soldiers, sending him tumbling to the ground as he turned to the other standing soldier who fired off a shot. Droz would twist his body as the blaster bolt skimmed past the front of his T-visor as he looked at the Umbaraan, his blaster pistols emitting an electro-plasma blade from the lower half of them. He'd swing his pistols as if they were tonfas, knocking aside their blaster before driving the other blade deep into the soldier's chest. A final gasp for breath could be heard before Droz swiftly pulled the blade out and let the body drop to the floor.

His marauders would clean up the rest of the convoy with minimal casualties as Droz walked over to the Umbaraan he had thrown a corpse at. The Umbaraan was reaching for his blaster only for Droz to step on their hand, twisting his foot as the Umbaraan screamed in agony. Droz lifted a blaster to their helmeted head before squeezing the trigger, sending a blaster bolt through their head. One of his own was on the ground, a blaster bolt having hit her in the stomach and breached her armor, Droz would walk over before kneeling down next to her clasping his hand with his comrade who was too wounded to continue. She was too wounded to continue the fight, and a liability if left alive for the enemy to interrogate. The Mandalorian marauder would look up at Droz, coughing and gasping between her final words, " We have started...A glorious fire brother... " Droz would nod as he responded, " We have indeed dear sister. The fire rises, and it will purge any who stand in our way. " As Droz pressed his helmeted forehead to hers, giving one final sign of respect, he would pull his hand back, having left a small spherical device in her hand. Droz would stand as he and the remainder of his forces headed off to the capital. As they flew away on their jetpacks a distant beeping was heard, soon followed by the sound of a thermal detonator going off as the wounded marauder carried out her final task and died, leaving nothing left for the enemy to scavenge.

From this point on, I'm only going to tag people who are going to be directly engaging me or my marauders. There are so many folks who have joined the thread and it's awesome to see the interest, but goddamn I can't be bothered to @ every single one of you.

ADM. Reshmar · Apr 29, 2019

Reshmar sat listening to chatter from the situation on Umbara. Elements of first and second fleet had responded leaving him to second think jumping to the world to assist. He had heard the Pirate was there and part of him wanted to glare at the man and ask where his ships were. Reshmar had never really been right with the incident and the theft of the Republics ships by the Pirate. It had been years ago and still the vessels remain missing. No doubt they had been torn down, studied and then scrapped. That is what Reshmar would have done, if he had lowered himself to the level of piracy. Still The Pirate had pulled off the theft brilliantly gaining the Chancellors permission to command the fleet then absconding with it leaving the forces of the Republic outnumbered. The thought of conversing with the man was tempting but not enough for him to jump to Umbara.

The world below glowed with lights, tendrils of cityscape spread out like some deep sea monster reaching out for its next meal. Reshmar had not had a chance to go down to the world below nor did he plan to. His reasoning for being there was singular in its purpose. SInce his return to active duty Reshmar had been tasked with one mission, to build. Utilizing the resources of the Directorate, Mon Calamari shipyards, and even the Imperial Forge works, Reshmar had begun building modules and components for the largest project he had ever undertaken. Six different worlds were not working on the Leviathan project. It had been conceived many years ago in a meeting with Admiral Quee. The project was well beyond their combined resources at the time but now with the DIrectorate thriving and the Silver Jedi backing the project it would finally come to fruition.

Out side his temporary office Reshmar could see the skeleton of the construct slowly coming together. It was starting to take form now as the forward section framework had just the day before been completed. the massive beast would be the pride of the MCS engineering team and a beacon of hope for the Silver fleet.

Reshmar turned back to the screen before him and the officer who had been waiting for him to make a decision. "Captain Jorej, please continue to monitor the situation at Umbara and let me know if hostilities break out.At this time out work here is too important to deploy 3rd fleet and jump all the way to Umbara. If the situation worsens and the 3rd is needed we will then take action. Have the crews of task force Liberty on ready alert, they will be the force closest to Umbara. If we need to we can send them to aid the 1st and 2nd fleets." said Reshmar to the officer now nodding at him over the video link. The man looked down at something handed him from someone off screen then back to Reshmar.

"I will keep you apprised sir, Jorej out" said the man then thevideo link was terminated. Reshmar turned to look back out the viewport at the superstructure of the massive vessel being built. It was indeed a beast, largest vessel he had ever attempted to design let alone build. It was indeed a formidable sight spanning out over the world below. Part of him wanted to talk to the pirate, Part of him wanted to blow the ship out from under him. He had had many discussions with him since the theft, many very tense words had been spoken. The two would no doubt come to blows again some day but more likely they would meet over some barran world and glare at each other menacingly without a shot fired as they always did.

[member="Aedan Miles"]

Zann Munin · Apr 29, 2019

Objective: Kill
Allies: 'Clan Cadera', Umbaran cartel.
Enemies: Umbarans, Fake Mandalorians, SJO, CIS.

Everywhere was chaos; the capital was awash with fighting men, shouts of anger pain and fear filled the air. Mandalorian warriors mixed freely amongst the throngs of fleeing Umbaran civilians, butchering and pillaging their way through with a blood lust reserved only for the lowest of the low.

The pure cacophony of battle was sweet music to the elder Munin, who unabashedly killed and maimed without reservation or consideration. The once white pavement of the city turned a fierce shade of red with the blood of its once proud citizens, now prey to the wrath of Manda'yaims true sons.

It was stifling inside his helm and armour. He could feel the sweat pouring down his face, stinging his eyes. His left arm was tired, and his breath came in ragged gasps. He fought to control both himself and his bloodlust as he ran amok, smashing and shooting wherever he could, using the benefit of the chaos to take out disorganised Umbaran security.

He had no idea if any of his men were behind him. For all he knew he was alone, surrounded by waves of whimpering sheep. He would have loved to check but it didn’t make any difference to his current situation. It was almost too easy at this point. Quaint how the cartel sold their own people out for a selfish purpose, it did not matter, all would come to pass soon for the reckoning of Umbara.

[member="Droz Munin"] [member="Reshmar"] [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Adron Malvern"] [member="John Locke"] [member="Aedan Miles"] [member="Vilaz Munin"] [member="Esvan Verd"] [member="Kishala Vi'dreya"] [member="Kyli Graf"]

Devils... Monsters...

Admiral of the Ghost Fleet

Character

Aliit Alor

OOC Account

a e т н e r

The Grey

All Things With Love

The Blood Hound

Administrator

Rogue Element

Caedyn Arenais

Guest

High Marshal of the Mara Armada

Member

V U L K A N

Pirate King

Esvan Verd

Guest

Moonage Daydream

S u p e r i o r

Directorate Officer Fleet Admiral SJC 3rd Fleet

Zann Munin

Guest

Users who are viewing this thread