Dominion Frontier War: Shipyard Saboteurs | The Mandalorian Enclave Dominion of Trendivar

[Eldris Ravenwood]

F R O N T I E R
W A R

Rothana. For some, a winter wonderland; for others an opportunity for industry unrivalled by neighbouring systems. In recent times, the snow swept planet had fallen under the protective, iron cloak of the Enclave, the shipyards put to work by the Aruetii Government to fuel the slowly expanding nation- The mostly barren and snow-covered wastes were otherwise useless to the Mando'ade, no ore hidden deep within the planets crust, no exotic wildlife to be hunted for the worth of their materials, no lost history to be explored or catalogued.

For months, all was well upon Rothana; worker teams making seemingly sublime progress in restoring the shipyards to full working order so as to accommodate their new beneficiaries and protectors. As the wait between correspondence from the overseers stretched on for cycles at a time, the increasingly rare messages providing lesser and lesser information often too vague to discern or of no value... a team of independently-contracted inspectors was sent by the Aruetii Government to rendezvous and investigate the situation at the shipyards.

That team has not returned. Nor have any of the subsequent teams, each with an armed escort which increased with size each time. From outside? All within the shipyard seemed to be going profoundly well. There was not a scrap of evidence pointing towards foul play nor suspicious circumstances. Those who entered the shipyards simply... never returned.

With losses swiftly reaching a boiling point, the Mando'ade answered the call of their brothers in the Aruetii government. dispatched a militarised quick response force of Mandalorian and Aruetii volunteers, headed by Minister of Defence Verin Oldo , to investigate the disappearances and radio-silence.

Volunteers are advised to take caution within the vicinity of the shipyard, and airspace overhead. There is little to no intel regarding the dangers that might lie in wait.

Objective I
Investigate the Shipyards

The volunteers have been dropped near the primary entrance to the shipyards by a small flock of gunships, their LZ set up just behind the star cruisers and yachts belonging to the teams of inspectors. Make your way inside the shipyards and investigate the cause of the mysterious disappearances. Extreme caution is advised, the Mandalorian Vanguards sent to secure the landing zone have failed to respond to radio checks. Be ready for anything.

Objective II
Guard the Ground

Whilst the volunteers search the shipyards, the naval element of the quick response force have been ordered to remain as low in orbit as possible so as to maintain constant contact with the ground forces in the event that a blizzard should rush through, or some other exceptional circumstances be reported. It is advised to maintain an ongoing scan of the surrounding airspace, as well as the planetary surface due to the anomalous nature of the disappearances.

Objective III
BYOO

Rothana is a vast planet with an endless array of possible activities and tasks open to all not participating in the shipyard search, and some tougher jobs for volunteers not concerned wholly with the search and rescue operation. Scour the frozen wastes for relics of bygone eras, set up camp within a cave and tell others tales of your gallantry, go hunting for the native Arctic Horny Whelmer- If it suits, even take some well-earned time off exploring Trendivar, finding your own fun! Carve a legacy through snow or step away from fates path and make your own stories, the choice is yours.

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[Verin Oldo]

TAG: Finn Roberts | ALL

"Rothana Shipyard, this is the UES Siren, please acknowledge."

A pallid wave of radio static continued its call across the high-frequency bandwidth that the comms officer was monitoring. It was the typical channel for this kind of communication and yet the near-constant static begged questions nobody had yet found the answers to.

"Rothana Shipyard, this is the UES Siren. Acknowledge our signal, over."

The same sickening static replied. The duty comms officer turned towards Verin Oldo with a grim tightening of the mouth.

"Still no response, sir."

Verin hummed to himself, a tuneless sound that evoked a conversation with his own mind. He walked towards the central display screen, a large tactical system that was set into a large table-like structure in the centre of the rear portion of the bridge of the Star Destroyer that headed up the force that had been deployed with speed to the Shipyard above the strange planet below.

The other craft in the force sat a little away from the main bulk of the Destroyer, each fanning out to create a sort of half fanned semi-circle that could at least contain anything that decided to make a hasty exit out of the shipyard's main hangar.

"No defences reading online, sir."

Verin hummed that low sound again, a mix of clearing his throat and a determined musing.

"Whatever it is, I don't like it. Have the teams board those empty vessels and get the ship manifests as soon as possible. I want to determine what, if any, communications were had with the station prior to this point."

He stalked along the busy bridge of the ship, uniformed officers, and enlisted personnel darting between stations.

"Place a NOTAM around this station. I want a 30-mile exclusion zone. Nothing goes in, nothing goes out. Is that clear?"

The officers on the bridge sparked into action, an urgency about their work betraying a hint of unease with the situation.

"Keep eyes on that station. Get me Roberts."

The crackle of static dissipated and was replaced by the bridge crew of Roberts' ship. The somewhat renegade had made himself an invaluable officer and reliable military commander, despite their...differing demeanours.

"Roberts, I would like eyes on that station. This situation irks me something rotten. It feels shady as heck, and I won't let anybody else fall prey to whatever is causing the disturbance. Do what you must. I don't like this one bit."

Oldo moved towards the tactical display once again and watched with a keen eye. Anything that happened from this point was unlikely to be a mundane experience.

Spoiler: Rapid Response Task Force

1x Grievous-class Star Destroyer - - Heavy Assault - 1.89K

= UES Siren 100%/100%

2x Terrus-class Flak Corvette - Defensive - 0.16K

= UES Bastion 100%/100%

= UES Trinity 100%/100%


2x Trench-class Fast Attack Corvette - Offensive - 0.11K

= UES Warlord 100%/100% (Finn Roberts)

= UES Defiance 100%/100%

 

[Kaz Krayt]

ROTHANA | ORBITAL SHIPYARS
TAGS: Gwyneira Vizsla | Open
GEAR: In bio​

WAR PIG​

This type of mission was more up his alley. On Kamino it was a basic mission, on the mothership there was nothing for the Zabrak to do... but here? Here he could focus, move and get things done. This was what he excelled at. He knew his behaviour was a mess outside of combat, but with a mission like this where they were flying in blind, there was no need for drugs, drinks or smokes.

:: Green light, get ready. ::

Kaz glanced up at the green light in the compartment for a moment before gazing down at his arsenal of weapons. With fluent movements he slammed a fresh magazine into his rifle and snapped it to his jetpack before drawing a pistol. Piece by piece, he inspected his gear and holstered them in their rightful places on his kit. Finally a few more grenades and spare magazines were clipped to his magnetic thigh plates before he slid on his blank helmet. It was definitely time to weld the horns back on, he was starting to miss that look.

"Alright, we're going in blind so make sure y'all check your corners and don't wander off. We don't know what's in that shipyard. And keep an eye out for any friendlies. If we can save some lives today or at least bring our own back home for a proper funeral, then that's mission accomplished as well." He spoke with authority and purpose, a stark contrast to the usual goofy and joking demeanour. The gunships launched from the Siren, shuddering as they picked up speed and barrelled straight for the shipyards and their landing zone. Kaz turned on a holoprojector to study the landing zone. The starships of the previous teams still clogged up the hangar, though he had a suspicion that those could come in handy if things went south.

His visor turned to look at the rest of the team in his gunship. "You all ready? Comms check." He instructed, checking his comms channel on his vambrace.

 

[Rel Ahn-Dross]

Frozen Wastes of Rothana
The Hunt​

---

The Frozen Wastes of Rothana were particularly desolate. As he looked across the windswept plains Rel crouched low, looking out across the expanse through narrowed eyes.

A Dropship had deposited him several kilometers away. Unlike other Mandalorians or volunteers who had come to Rothana to investigate the shipyards he had come to the planet for another reason; to hunt. They called it an Arctic Horny Whelmer, a massive beast that old imperial war machines had been made in the viage of. Rel had determined that he would hunt one of the beasts and that he would slay it.

He'd sent word to his sister, Senar Ahn-Dross and invited her to join him if she could find him out on the wastes of the planet. Still he didn't not think it would be particularly difficult for her. They were blood, they had a connection.

Large as he was the snow here came up past Rel's knees but he trudged forward, cold wind crashing against his face. He was tracking the beast now, it was upwind from him a distance and he hadn't seen it yet thanks to the snow and wind that minimized his vision.

Rel dressed like a nomad or tribesman. A heavy cloak draped across his shoulders to assist in insulating him from the cold despite the attire he wore underneath. The Axe named Bloodeater clutched in the palm of his right hand.

Leaning forward, using his left hand to shield his features he pressed onwards with a particularly determined expression set across his features...

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

Primary Objective: Scout the shipyards and discover the truth as to what is causing anyone who enters to go MIA.
Secondary Objective: Protect teammate and survive (and geek out over shipyards.)
Location: MNV-56 Keldab-class Assault Dropship.
Equipment: In bio.
Friendlies: Enclave.
Enemies: Unknown...
Tags: Kaz Krayt

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In the gunship, Gwyneira Krayt once again checked over her equipment. Two blasters, one over each shoulder. Two blasters at her hips, and two more blasters inside her cybernetic leg storage. A lightsaber and lightsaber shoto were stored in her leg as well. On her utility belt, a combat knife was also slung on. Her beskar'gam was top quality as usual. Standing, she looked over to her slugthrower, the Paradoxal, leaning against the wall. She not only had grenades slung over her shoulder, but a long chord rope as well.

She had to admit, she had never seen Kaz Krayt like this before. So... mature and focused. Sure, he showed her concern when they met at Kestri's hospital, but it was still nothing like this. She was surprised, but also remembered her days of pretending to be a dumb party girl in the Arkanian Academy. She had adopted a different personality as her coping mechanism and cover, only dropping it when she met people she could trust. Was Kaz somehow the same way? Or was there something else to it?

When asked if comms were on, Gwyn scooped up her buy'ce from its seat and pulled it on. Comms were good according to her H.U.D. She nodded, "Comms are online."

She then looked down at the chords and lifted a hand, pointing to it, "Oh, about sticking together..."

She raised her voice, addressing the entire group. Though she looked mostly to Kaz, who was the leader. Apparently. "I brought this rope line along. We have no idea just what is going on. It could be something involving sketchy Force use. Is a Witch behind the loss of contact? Furthermore, if EMP or Ion tech, or scrambling, takes out our tech, we'll need another way of tracing our way back out."

She held up the end of the rope, "I propose we tie this to our entrance and tie ourselves to the other end, sticking together. That way, we'll have our way back secure from the start. It's a powerful chord too, only lightsabers can cut these."

Her confidence wavered a second as she lowered the chord, "Of course, if a Sith or other Force User with a lightsaber were behind all this, I have no backup if the chord is broken. Which is... concerning."

She looked to Kaz directly, even with her buy'ce on, "What do you think?"

 

[Kaz Krayt]

ROTHANA | ORBITAL SHIPYARS
TAGS: Gwyneira Vizsla | Open
GEAR: In bio​

WAR PIG​

Kaz turned to look at Gwyn as she started to speak, suggesting they use a piece of rope to all stick together and keep track of each other. It was a very odd contingency to suggest, and her rather detailed rationale behind it made him suspect that it was born from a series of previous events that entailed exactly that.

He was quiet for a moment as he contemplated the decision, finally giving a light nod. "It can work, though the shipyards are huge. Rear guard will be in charge of adjusting the ropes as we move deeper into the facility. But still, everyone check their HUDs and make sure you keep an eye on your buddies' vitals. And speak up when you see something. You're all professionals, you know what you're doing, but still, rather safe than sorry." He spoke sternly, his T-visor glaring at everyone in the gunship. He knew the other ships also heard him loud and clear through their comms.

His talk was likely rather unnecessary in a group of warriors like these, but that was simply habit. Years of working with gangsters and cartels engrained it into him that it was best to cover everything than leave it to chance. The platoon of Enclave Marines among them were also certainly not as seasoned as some of the Mandos in the detachment. But they did win a fight against the Maw at least, they weren't entirely useless.

The gunships finally reached the landing zone and touched down, allowing the troops inside to spill out and form a perimeter around the transports. "Fan out! Keep your eyes open. Gwyn, check out those blast doors and get the ropes ready. Rest of you, move up and stick together!" His voice bellowed through comms and eerie silence as he shouldered his rifle and looked around.

The ships of the previous groups were still there, and they didn't seem to be damaged in any way. Still, worth investigating. "Aster, take a squad and investigate those transports. Let me know if there's anything out of place." He ordered as he moved to the massive blast doors of the hangar with Gwyn.

 

[Hilal Vizsla]

Hilal's Ship

Mandalorian Armor

"Coming out of Hyperspace....... Now." Hilal checked the Navigation system she was almost to her the Planet: Rothana. She received a message from her people to investigate a disappearance. A team of investigators had was sent to look over a shipyard which was having problems. This came all of a sudden which drew the attention of the Mandalorian Enclave. Hilal began performing the calculations to exit Hyperspace while DVA remained by her side communicating with the ship's computer. Hilal was glad to have completed her armor, here she was a full-fledged Bounty Hunter ready to take on the Galaxy. But Hilal cannot forget about contributing to her people, the Mandalorians have been purged and has been pushed to the brink of extinction multiple times. One such purge took place the day she was born, the day the Mandalore fell to the Sith.

Since Hilal was presumably born during a battle, it made her a Jorir o'r Cayatr <Born in Battle>. It was a sign that those children of Mandalore who were bloodied when they were infants were meant for great things. It was one of the many things that motivated Hilal to press forward in her dream of becoming the best Bounty Hunter in the Galaxy. The drive and determination which was what ended Hilal with an advanced set of armor and a modified ship. Yet this was only the beginning, a smile formed on her face as she sat back cladded in her pink Mandalorian Armor with her trusty Droid by her side getting them out of Hyperspace. These were Hilal's first steps on the long road to glory.

"Lemme get on the comms," Hilal said observing the desolate shipyard, it gave her the creeps seeing how empty all of the starships were. Who could behind the disappearance she wondered. "This is Hilal of Clan Vizsla," She announced. "I'm here to investigate the disappearance of the investigators of Rothana and I'm looking to assist. Does anyone copy over?"

Now to sit and wait.

Gwyneira Vizsla , Kaz Krayt

 

[Rel Ahn-Dross]

Frozen Wastes of Rothana
The Hunt​

---

The Snow deepened the further he went, the wind stirring life into the arctic plains. He trekked onwards, the visibility still all but zero. Every step started to cause exertion to flare in his calf muscles while he leaned into the wind and it burnt his eyes.

Nothing was there, he saw nothing and his senses were livid from the environment.

He was prepared to turn back. The Hunt could always be taken up again. Maybe if he called the Shuttle he could make it back to the Shipyards and rendezvous with the Investigation Team sent there.

Rel started to turn his head but then the snowdrifts thrown into a frenzy by the winds cleared momentarily and he saw it at a distance. The silhouette was massive, the creature was monstrous compared to him. In that moment he felt his limbs galvanize as purpose stirred in them once again. It was right there almost as thought it were calling to him.

The Whelmer was huge, dwarfing any man or beast that immediately came to mind. No wonder it had been used as the basis for the AT-TE. Whether it knew Rel was there or was ignorant to him seemed a small matter, a creature such as this certainly didn't fear its lessers and rightly so.

Gripping Bloodeater tightly in his right hand Rel bent his kness, lowered his center of gravity and began to creep forward across the barren landscape with only the snow and howling winds to cover his approach....

 

[Romul Saxon]

D E V O U T​

Objective: Defend the Rothana Shipyards
Location: ROTHANA
Tag: Verin Oldo | OPEN

Bal teh wi'nr, ga'ihlr atyaor.

Dinuir resa at a hture madior.​

Romul closed the leather bindings of the small book closed, tucking it back within the safety of his armor where it would not risk destruction. The gospel that he held was one of the last treasured relics of Clan Saxon, much else having been lost in the genocide of Mandalore. It was now one of Romul Saxon's most prized possessions, not just because of its heritage, but because of the value that the gospel brought.

It filled his heart with a fire that could not be doused.

Although he was the Akaan'alor, supreme commander of Mandalorian forces, today he was not here to command. He was here to fight. He sat kneeling, his massive war hammer laid out in front of him. The lights of the dropship flickered as it flew close to the ground in a tight, stealth formation. He was only accompanied by a few -- veteran warriors of Clan Saxon and Si'kayha Commandos -- but even that would be enough to conquer an entire world.

The giant Mandalorian warrior rose to his feet slowly, servomotors humming as the power armor worked to lift the hundreds of kilos that were beskar plating, built-in weapons, and defensive systems that comprised Romul's beskar'gam. It was a relic of a different, more decadent time, but it rendered the massive man near invulnerable in combat. And now, those who dare challenge the Enclave's claim -- their right -- to rule of this world would know that invulnerability, at the cost of their own lives.

"Inform the Minister that we are approaching the shipyards rapidly," Saxon rumbled lowly to the copilot of the craft, who would be handling communications while the captain focused on piloting the dropship. "Apart from that, maintain our comm silence."

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[Finn Roberts]

TAG: Verin Oldo | Romul Saxon | Open
SHIP: UES Warlord

BIG JACK​

"This thing's smaller than Heckler's pecker."

Finn stood with his hands on his hips as he stared at the floor of the bridge of the corvette they were on.
"Oi! What would you know about my pecker?!" Heckler called from the nav-panel.
"I know Jocelyn complained." Finn answered absently as he looked around at the exceptionally small bridge compared to the Queen's.
"Why would she......?" Heckler started asking then trailed off as he realised what Finn was saying. His lips silently mouthed "oh".
"Don't listen to him, mate. He's salty about the small craft." Derrick Aimes, Finn's oldest friend and his first mate, told Heckler before looking at Finn. "Now stop complaining like a housewife and fly the damn thing." he told his captain.

Finn pulled a face at Derrick, but just then comms chimed.
"Coming from the Siren." Vex said as the comms came through his panel. Minister Oldo's voice rang through the bridge.

"Roberts, I would like eyes on that station. This situation irks me something rotten. It feels shady as heck, and I won't let anybody else fall prey to whatever is causing the disturbance. Do what you must. I don't like this one bit."

"Yeah, no shit, Minister. I just wish you had given me bigger firepower than the beebee-guns on this thing. But I'll make do, don't worry. Roberts out." Finn told his commanding officer. The old veteran and Finn had served together on countless engagements under the Confederacy before both had found their way to Wild Space on separate occasions. Now they were at it again. Finn's reaction would have been nothing new for the ex-High Marshall of the Bassadro Sector.

If there was one thing Finn and his crew were good at, it was getting results faster than most.

The controversial naval officer turned toward the smaller than life viewport.
"Run continuous scans of the area. I want to know if a space-particle sneezes, got it?" he ordered. "And hands to stations. I want what little ordnance this thing has, to be primed and ready to fire on a speed of light's notice."
The crew started bustling as targeting systems came online and all manner of scans were implemented.

Derrick hobbled over to Finn on his peg leg while the rest were working their magic.
"What do you think caused the disappearances?" he asked.
"Pirates, most like. You remember how we were - taking out anything that comes snooping around if we are running an op. Leave none that can give a holler to reinforcements." Finn told him. "This bunch is sloppy, though."
"Sloppy?"
"They didn't put a decoy. The lack of a decoy has raised suspicions. And here we are in our less than efficient glory."
Derrick snickered. "You really don't like this ship, ey?"
Finn grunted. "She may be fast with a few lapdogs that can nip, but she's no attack dog like the Queen."
"Suck it up, buttercup. We're here now."
"Aye, here we are. So let's show the T-visors how it's done." A sinister smile curled on the controversial captain's mouth.

He may hate the small corvette, he had worked with less in the past.

 

[Eldris Ravenwood]

F R O N T I E R
W A R

The silent response to the hails of the UES Siren was deafening; ironic in a way, really, that a ship named for a creature of myth that could lure in sailors with its voice could not garner even a simple response. Though the comms found no response, there was another...

The short-range scanners of the UES Warlord would pick it up first. A swift moving signature, no larger than a personal starfighter. From where it hailed was unclear, though it paid no heed to the fleet that might try to hail it, headed straight for the shipyards. It was elusive, crafty, most certainly a scout craft of some form.

The ship skidded low, kicking up the thick snow as it swooped lower over the fire team lead by Kaz Krayt and Gwyneira Vizsla . It dropped its speed, pulling up and slamming the throttle, propulsion kicking up a miniature blizzard of swift-settling snow. When the snow finally cleared enough from the sky to see, the craft was gone from scanners.

Approaching the hangar bay door, they'd see that it was not fully closed, be it by jam or purpose. There were two gaps, the door being comprised of four separate parts that slotted together; one gap laid lengthways across the floor, the other vertical. Each were wide enough to permit a single, slight humanoid passage should they attempt to crawl through.

For those entering through more ordinary means, the halls were all but barren of life, save for frequent blaster scoring, and the occasional left over helmet, security ID, blaster, or other memento-

Regardless of how they entered, all would find that, from the moment they stepped foot inside the shipyard proper, all comms equipment save person-to-person frequencies cut out to static. Once inside, you were cut off from the outside world. Able to receive but unable to respond.

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[Verin Oldo]

TAG: Finn Roberts | Romul Saxon | Hilal Vizsla | ALL

Verin turned on his heel, headed towards the seated array that formed part of the command array, the chair that sat astride and central of the main deck of the Star Destroyer. He surveyed the low orbit, the desolate locale beneath them awash with flurries of snow, impossible to penetrate with the naked eye. He watched as instruments charted the comings and goings of the task force, various shuttles and ships buzzing about as they sat in orbit of the planet. Various fighter squadrons made small but indiscriminate sorites, taking in the aerial view they commanded.

A communication.

"It's the Supreme Commander, Sir."

The non-Mandalorian contingent of the Enclave was vast in number and lived in harmony with their...strange...counterparts. They brought with them a wealth of experience, understanding, of expertise that had alluded the Mandalorian people for generations, perhaps due to their nomadic nature. Almost two forms of government coexisted.

The Aruetii. It meant 'outsider.

Verin wore the mantle proudly, serving with distinction as the face of the Armed Forces; no T-visor necessary.

"Inform the Commander that we receive his communication and wish him well on his journey. Let us hope a swift and resolute end to this confusing state of affairs is reached today."

He took a slow slurp from a hot beverage on the side of his comm desk, something that would only be permitted if he was near-certain that it wouldn't be sent lurching across the void by some cataclysm.

A communication. It was a craft that was Mandalorian in nature. Not much of a threat.

" Hilal Vizsla . This is Minister Verin Oldo of the Mandalorian Enclave. You are entering a restricted and controlled military designation. There is a NOTAM in place and I must advise you to stand down your engines. If you are known to the Enclave, make your way to the following coordinates and you will be met. Otherwise, take evasive actions and leave this airspace. Your cooperation is appreciated."

A routine event. They were so often visited by interlopers, curious to see what a task force of large ships would be doing out in Wild Space. He had met many of the Mandalorians he now served in a similar fashion some years prior, guarding a sector fleet for the Confederacy.

The Confederacy. He thought long and hard about that time.

A communication.

"Sir, we are getting reports from The Warlord. They have detected a small ping on their scope."

"Is it this Vizsla girl?"

"Negative, sir. We are tracking it now."

"Get a lock on it. Prepare to clip it out of the system if it enters the 'No Fly' zone."

"We are trying to, sir. Struggling to get a lock on it."

"Upgrade the alert to Standby. I want all hands to posts if we have to muster a rapid response."

"Yes, sir." A moment passed in silence, save a few beeps and whirring tablets.

" It's headed to the planet's surface."

"Well, make sure it doesn't get there, Ensign."

The comms array of the deck burst into activity, various crew engaging instruments and consoles.

"This is the UES Siren. Unidentified craft. You are entering a restricted military zone. Surrender yourself for boarding or turn back. You are entering restricted airspace. There is a NOTAM being exercised across this region. You are entering a restricted military zone."

The call repeated and repeated.
Verin thundered out of his seat, standing ahead of the screen, watching as it showed the small, barely visible blip on the screen. It disappeared.

Reappeared.

Disappeared.

"Where is it, Ensign?"

A moment of silence.

"It's gone, sir."

He took a shallow breath. Always calm before the storm.

"Keep your eyes and ears open. Inform the fleet."

He looked down, taking in a small panel at his waist height, displaying the call signs and comms array of the forward parties down on the surface below.

"Supreme Commander, this is Oldo. We've had a suspected anomalous bogie make planetside. Try to keep a lookout for anything. We will continue monitoring."

He waited on the reply. As he did so, he muttered to his XO.

"Have the task force recalibrate all arrays on a wider frequency. I want any surprise out here found before they find us."

The XO nodded and made his way to the comms array on the command deck, rapidly barking the orders towards the rest of the task force.

Calm before the storm.

Spoiler: Rapid Response Task Force

1x Grievous-class Star Destroyer - - Heavy Assault - 1.89K

= UES Siren 100%/100%

2x Terrus-class Flak Corvette - Defensive - 0.16K

= UES Bastion 100%/100%

= UES Trinity 100%/100%


2x Trench-class Fast Attack Corvette - Offensive - 0.11K

= UES Warlord 100%/100% (Finn Roberts)

= UES Defiance 100%/100%

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

Primary Objective: Scout the shipyards and discover the truth as to what is causing anyone who enters to go MIA.
Secondary Objective: Protect teammate and survive (and geek out over shipyards.)
Location: Landing platform at shipyards.
Equipment: In bio.
Friendlies: Enclave.
Enemies: Unknown...
Tags: Kaz Krayt Hilal Vizsla

​

The moment she was given the orders, Gwyneira snapped into action. Tiny snowflakes blew like ash in the bitter winds of the landing pad. As her footsteps crunched the thin ice of the metal floor, she immediately noticed that the doors were shoved open. However, the security here was deathly chill. Nothing but standard Enclave security, cameras and facial recognition. It was... way too quiet.

Finding a solid beam, Gwyn swiftly wrapped the chord around it, securely, before fastening herself to one of the cables. More members of the squad came to do the same as Gwyn went to the next thing..

She hurried towards the doors and checked. "Hmm..."

She knelt down, taking a closer look with her buy'ce and cybernetic eyes' enhanced vision. She lifted a hand and traced it along the jagged door, thinking on a moment over what she saw. It was open just enough to slip through, and inside was an unfamiliar ship. It looked nothing like the ships the Enclave or this planet produced. It was a light freighter, quite similar to her own but in far worse condition. She was able to identify it even...

She stood up, adjusting the cable clipped to her utility belt. She turned to Kaz and spoke, <"Kaz, this door has been forced open, and there's a non-affiliated ship inside, a 720 light freighter.">

As one ship was mentioned, another swooped low and over the landing platform. Static and noise corroded her ear drums, but Gwyn could just make out the request for assistance by a Mandalorian with the same goals as her.

Gwyn looked over to Kaz, <"You heard that too? Want to contact her before we lose her?">

 

[Kaz Krayt]

ROTHANA | ORBITAL SHIPYARS
TAGS: Gwyneira Vizsla | Hilal Vizsla |
GEAR: In bio​

WAR PIG​

Once Gwyn had the ropes set up, Kaz tied one around his waist and held position with the others, waiting for feedback from the groups studying the ships and blast doors. The inspection team quickly returned with absolutely no useful information. No evidence of foul play, nothing out of place, logs were also pretty much as barren as the information the Enclave had on what went down. "Kriff..." He grumbled as he marched over to Gwyn with the rest of the team.

<"Kaz, this door has been forced open, and there's a non-affiliated ship inside, a 720 light freighter.">

"There were no reports on something like that. Keep an eye on it." He turned to the rest of the group. "Get the blowtorches up here! No way all of us will be able to fit through here." The teams quickly formed and started to cut away at the doors, albeit with painfully slow progress. Getting through blast doors designed to resist cannons and explosions weren't exactly a quick and easy task, even for a group trained to get through as quick as possible. Though, things became very odd when a ship came out of nowhere and flew overhead, only to disappear entirely... then a comm channel perked up with someone making contact.

"I hear it. Sounds like the Siren is makin' contact with whoever it is." He commented as he glanced at Gwyn before attempting to open a comm channel with the mothership. :: Siren, this is Kaz... :: After a few seconds, he tried the channel again, but they didn't seem to receive him. "Comms are acting up. Receiving but not broadcasting." He warned, his visor staring at her. "Try and access any camera feeds of the facility if you can."

After trying to get through a few more times, he gave up. They were on their own. :: Hilal Vizsla, this is Kaz Krayt from the expeditionary force. We are waiting for you on the LZ, get a green light from the mothership and get your ass over here, we're breaching. :: With a stern voice he turned to the team desperately trying to cut through the blast doors. "Move it!"

When a hole was finally cut, Kaz shouldered his rifle and breached through, motioning for Gwyn and the rest to follow. The comms static only became worse when they entered the base, and the number of oddities lying around the place didn't help to put them at ease. "Thermals on." With a tap of a button, his visor flicked to thermal vision, but nothing came up except for the team. "Can you plug in and get a map of the station? We need to get to the command centre." He asked Gwyn, kneeling down by a corner of the hallway.

 

[Lycia]

Lycia moved up to the flight deck of the shuttle, half kitted up in her pressure suit and webbing. Whilst she was on the mission she wasn't part of the first team in. With an operation like this, it always paid to have people on standby, that being if something went wrong you still had operatives to help evacuate them.
"Hope those lot are holding up down there. Strange things in these ghost wrecks, I once met a lass who went into the wilds and you could see the craze in her eyes" One for superstition, Lycia was happy not to be first into the abandoned hulk of the shipyard. Some might dismiss it but the Selonian had been around enough to see the truth in why some people had these superstitions.
"Lot of static, want me to run 'em some string and a cup?" She joked, but there was a hint of uncertainty about what she said. A lot of things can happen, a lot of systems can turn themselves on, and there were always risks. That's why she was here though, safe on the ship and waiting till they needed help. It was a question of when, or if.

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[Romul Saxon]

D E V O U T

Objective: Defend the Rothana Shipyards
Tag: Lycia | Verin Oldo

Metallic footsteps preceded the approach of a commando, but Romul did not turn. The voice indicated who it was; Lycia, a foundling and junior commando whose fighting skills were commendable -- Romul remembered observing her train in the Citadel of the Kom'rk and could personally attest to that -- but whose lack of discipline he found an issue with.

As he rose to address the commando, however, he would make his displeasure known only by the iron stare he gave her, a gesture that was much more effective with his helmet at his side. Verbally, though, he refrained from the acknowledgment of it, instead silently considering her words before responding. "Kit up," he finally decided, his deep bass voice gravelly. "You may be right," he conceded to the junior commando. "We'll get to an access port to diagnose the state of their electronics before proceeding even further."

Straightening up, he addressed his next words to the entirety of the shuttle's occupants. "Landfall in one minute!" he barked. "Get your gear in order, we're dropping and going." With that, he donned his own helm, a faint whooshing emanating from the armor as his suit pressurized and the environment seal activated. It took a second for the heads-up display to activate, and Romul's vision went from a tinted slint to a full battlefield view of the shuttle interior, complete with visual displays and readouts in the corners of his vision.
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[Lycia]

"Aye skipper" Showing respect to the order of the superior before moving to seal up her pressure suit and don her respirator. Going through the checks almost as if by rote, making an adjustment and then adorning the rest of her gear. Whilst she quickly snapped to, she'd missed Romul's slight displeasure. She was on a mission now and there was a notable change in the woman's demeanour.
"EVA suit seals check, oxygen one hour, green across the board. Shield, good, blaster primed safety on" Checking the energy shield and her carbine, making sure she was ready and then moving towards the airlock
Her job would be to cover the tech as they did their work, she was a fighter, not a sparkie. She wasn't embarrassed by that at all, she was good at what she could do and that suited the woman just fine.
"Ready when you are skipper."

Romul Saxon | Verin Oldo

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[Romul Saxon]

D E V O U T

Objective: Defend the Rothana Shipyards
Tag: Lycia | Verin Oldo

Romul nodded to himself approvingly as he observed the change of demeanor in the commando. It was good that she could focus in battle; war was not a place for playing around. In the close quarters of the shuttle, the Warmaster's massive war axe remained holstered on his backplate. In its place, he wielded a blaster rifle that looked tiny when in the warrior's massive frame.

The lighting in the interior of the shuttle turned red as they neared the drop point, the visual signaling for the commandos to prepare to disembark. A moment later the rear bay doors opened, and without a single word spoken the commandos filed off in battle order into a dark and desolate hangar. The only lighting came from the ambient night sky filtering in through the open hangar bay; as one looked further into the interior, one could see that it was all dark. The shuttle's floodlights shone into the dark, seemingly abandoned shipyard interior; the large shadows of large machinery could be seen through the cavernous interior.

Aside from the commandos footsteps on the metal floor of the hangar bay, and the soft hum of the dropship, it was silent. Eerily silent. Romul tapped the side of his head to signal for the commandos to turn on their glowrods mounted to their helmets. Then, wordlessly, they proceeded as the dropship lifted off and flew back out into the Rothanan night. This silence felt oppressive. There was something that felt wrong about it, and even Romul did not want to disturb whatever was sleeping.
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[Lycia]

It was far too quiet. There was an old saying that you only noticed something was missing when it wasn't there, and a lot of things were not there. Lycia kept close, whilst moving somewhat casually there was still a slight twitch to her movements as she scanned the room. It was sometimes hard to tell where exactly she was at points with the way she moved. Lycia glanced over to Romul and shook her head no when he motioned for the glow rods, instead making a gesture of 'I see' hopefully he'd get the meaning that she had much better dark vision than most among them. In fact, her vision was limited in the bright light that most species lived in, part of her training to travel outside the den was acclimatization to natural and artificial light.
Slowly pushing forward scanning the dark corners where their light couldn't reach and fully prepared for whatever horrors lay lurking in the shadows. Hopefully none

Romul Saxon | Verin Oldo

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[Romul Saxon]

D E V O U T

Objective: Defend Rothana Shipyards
Tag: Lycia

The silence was the most discomforting part. As they pushed further into the abandoned shipyards, their glowrods mounted on helmets and blasters the only light source, the droning of the dropships had faded to nothing, leaving only the echoing footsteps of the Mandalorian commandos. Every fiber in Romul Saxon's massive being was on-edge. Every instinct told him that despite the silence, they were not alone.

Finally, they reached an access port, a Galaar scout indicating that they had found it. Romul nodded and signaled for a techie to slice into it, while the others formed a loose defensive perimeter in the area. At least in this darkness, they had a thermal vision that compensated for the lack of lighting, but there were even methods for concealment from that sort of technology.

There was no sound, but suddenly Romul's instincts told him to turn. And at that moment, the abandoned hangar erupted in blasterfire. "Find cover!" Romul barked as he deployed a personal energy shield in banner formation, kneeling as red blasterfire ate at the blue projection. He drew his own rifle and returned fire over the cover of the energy shield, but it was a wild cover fire that did little actual damage. "And cover our slicer!"
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