Mission Iron & Dust || COV (Open to THR)

[Zandra Ruus]

Location: Orbital space above Ryloth
Objective: Break in, bust out
Tags: Duncan Avaron Seva Beroya Kalantha Zavar Kelborn Kjartan Hammer-Hand Livia Cadera

It was a damned stupid idea, but she'd been on a long streak of terrible ideas. What was this particularly foolish gambit? Well, she'd jumped out of a dropship with a jetpack, and was headed straight for an enemy ship. She wasn't even sure what kind of ship this was, only that it was big and important-looking!

She passed by one of the ion cannons on the vessel right as it was charging up a shot, making her second guess this whole operation! She pressed a button on her belt, activating her jets to send her rocketing forward. Biggest issue with moving fast in space, she couldn't slow down easily! Without magnets or crushgaunts, she had to improvise, digging one of her swords into the metal hide of the ship.

She could feel a shaking in her bones as the metal gouged into metal, her blade carving into the durasteel hull of the Republic ship. It slowed her down just enough to grab onto a hatch.

Once inside the ship, she'd need to find a way to get a map of the ship. Maybe some of the republic naval personnel inside knew their way to the reactor? More than likely yes, but getting them to talk would be a thorny task though! Most military personal valued their ships enough that they would need some hellacious convincing, convincing that took time, time she didn't have...

"Buncha Republic skags, wannabe soldiers who get in the karking way," Zandra yelled quietly as her hands pushed against the vent she was in. "Tch, great plan Zandra. Drop into the enemy ship without backup... Saram would have you skinned for doing something this stupid!"

Thankfully, or unfortunately, Saram wasn't here to see what Zandra was doing, or to stop it...

 

[Sahan Dragr]

Spoiler: Equipment

Vambraces
Tusurki'aa Ta'hye Beskad
O'dteyase Saranuhlr
M.I. Model 6 hybrid pistol
M.I. 'Pulsar' jetpack
KestrisaurHide Utility Belt and Duster
Rulariyi Mandalorian Sunglasses

The smell of ozone and charred Twi'lek flesh filled the air around Sahan. He hoisted up a corpse with his right arm, the man's two lekku wrapped around his arm for stability as he held it like a shield and returned fire. Bodies were accruing, yet they didn't seem inclined to relent.

"Come on, tail-heads! We tried to play nice, and this is how you treat us? After all we've done for you. Fine, but you asked for it, you damn fools!" No mercy would be shown.

Two foes attempted to rush Sahan from behind. He hurled the smoldering corpse at one, bowling her over. This distracted the other for a split second, yet it was long enough for Sahan to capitalize on the opportunity. He grabbed him by his lekku and wrapped them around his arm as well. The man screamed and flailed as he unwillingly became Sahan's replacement shield. He didn't scream for much longer, as his body absorbed blaster fire.

Sahan ejected the empty magazine of his pistol and jammed in another, all in a fluid, well-practiced motion. He shot the woman as she was getting out from under the corpse. Square between the eyes.

<Gold,> he hailed his Howler from the comms in his sunglasses. <These asshelmets set an ambush for us. Protect our ships at the port.> He paused his words as he vaulted into the air, kicked another Twi'lek's face in, and shot three more down with rapid-fire bursts. Meanwhile, he could hear his ship-droid cheering in the background at how much fun she could have. The Basilisk loved fighting as much as or even more than any Mandalorian.

<And since they want to treat us this way after we wanted to be nice and haggle for resources and set things right, then we'll just take what we need. Hack into any unattended ships you can and upload the Barty data—full autopilot routines.> Barty was what he called a backup of some of ARTUS's subroutines. It was all he had of the AI since it had been taken offline by the Vong. He really needed to fix that... <He'll need to watch out for Republic ships, but he should be able to trick them into thinking he's just fleeing civilians.>

It also didn't hurt that there seemed to be a lucrehulk there on their side, though he knew that would mean a favor owed later. He'd deal with that when the time came.

The horde after him was beginning to thin now. As the last particle blasts from the magazine rang out, only three Twi'leks remained. Sahan was slightly amused at how different each one's skin was. Blue, Orange, Green.

He dropped the riddled corpse he'd been holding.

One of them lifted a thermal detonator and threw it.

It had not gone far at all when Sahan dashed, jumped, and snatched the bomb out of the air. He slammed it down its owner's throat, the jawbones cracking and splintering. He pushed him into the two others and rolled out of the way as blood and viscera sprayed everywhere from the following fiery eruption.

The blast rang his ears hollow for a heartbeat, the world reduced to heat, pressure, and ringing silence.

Sahan laid back on the ground where he had rolled and took a breath. "Karking feth, didn't know I could do that!" He took a deep breath and hoisted himself off the ground. The immediate vicinity was clear, though he could still hear gunfire and explosions in the background.

The distant howl of ion fire cut through the chaos, rattling his teeth as the Howlers screamed overhead.

TAGS: OPEN​

 

[Kjartan Hammer-Hand]

KJARTAN HAMMER-HAND
ABOARD THE VOD’GAM | RYLOTH - HIGH ORBIT
TAG: Kalantha | Duncan Avaron | Seva Beroya

THEME​

He turned his attention skyward as Navy personnel reported in. Patrol wings were scrambled and set into overlapping flight patterns, establishing air superiority over Lessu and the surrounding regions.

After a minute, an immense explosion's light could be seen into orbit as the collective squadrons' seismics hit the shield. It didn't take too long for the shield to give under the immense barrage of power. That's when all hell broke loose as the Howlers howled through the opening they created, the sound deafening on the ground and most probably rupturing those eardrums without helmeted protection as the ions sounded through the sky towards their comrades on the ground in unison.

Kjartan’s eyes monitored the situation through his tactical readout, with further lightspeed signatures beginning to ping on their passive sensors. His arms supported his massive frame, which was perched over the holographic display of the battlespace and the planet below, his frame leaning over it like a massive sentinel. Basilisk wings were deployed to break through the shield and contest Republic air superiority, but the warchief in him knew they would need as much support to even the odds. What began as a few scattered skirmishes was quickly getting out of hand into a full-scale battle. He nodded over to the tactical station, his bearded face grave but in-command of the situation.

“Deploy half our fighter squadrons immediately to establish air superiority...” He paused, weighing his next words in a surprisingly measured manner. “Do we have a trace on their air-bases in the area?”

The tactical officer glanced at her display before responding: “Our active scanners have been sweeping the surface. The shield has caused some low level interference, but we’ve been able to triangulate several air bases located outside of the city - well away from civilian centers.”

It was almost like she could read his mind.

“Acquire a firing solution for our ventral turbolaser batteries - precision strikes; airfields and nearby military sites only. If they have any fighters in reserve, I want them ground to dust, and for the fighters in the air to have no place to go to refuel. They may have f*ckin’ air superiority, but i’ll use our orbital superiority while we have it.” His voice drew to a low grumble, like a cave bear ready to pounce.

The tactical officer made to execute his orders, and Kjartan let out a heavy sigh. He was reining himself in a lot. His first inclination was to unleash far more than their turbolasers on these bastard cowards - show them what the Vod’gam was truly capable of. But he wasn’t about to lose his command on their first real deployment.

---

Several squadrons of Beviin-class Space Superiority Starfighters surged forth with a scream from their hangars and, right behind the basilisk wave that was launched by the Huntress, descended to the planet to engage the Republic air corp. An intense air battle began to unravel as the Beviin squadrons utilized their superior build quality to make-up for their smaller squadron size, which when coupled with the skill of their Mandalorian pilots, would undoubtedly begin leveling the playing field in tandem with the unconventional tactics of the Basilisks.

Meanwhile, the Vod’gam's under-side heavy turbolaser batteries pivoted in unison, and began raining down hell upon the planet surface - but not with indiscriminate fire. Salvos of precision strikes shrouded the surrounding countryside of the city, pouncing upon what airfields the Mandalorians could find through their active sensor arrays. The message was quite clear - if the cowards of Ryloth wanted to start something, the Mandalorians would finish it - but they refused to do whatever savagery the locals wanted to accuse them of.

But if Kjartan had anything to say about it, they wouldn't have a military to speak of after this...


​

 

[Kamon Hourn]

KAMON HOURN
ABOARD THE VOD’GAM | RYLOTH - HIGH ORBIT
TAG: Sahan Dragr | Darion of Myrkr | Fenn Stag | Carduul Akahl | Rohrkell Vætir | Gavin Restur | Vara Rasha

THEME​

The fighters of the Vod’gam spilled out of the hangar bay, leaving the dropships to wait for what seemed like an eternity. The Howlers for their part, checked and rechecked their weapons and the mission parameters. An update streamed across Kamon’s hud - with added dropships filled with full compliments of marines joining their extraction mission to help secure the spaceport.

By all accounts, this appeared to be developing into a full-scale shitshow. And Kamon was here for it.

​

IT’S ABOUT TO GO DOWN - CLICK PLAY ON THIS NOISE​

Some time later, after the planetary shield was breached and air superiority over the city was contested enough to allow, the Howler extraction mission was given the green light. Kamon threw his helmet on and slammed the hatch door shut on his dropship. With a thrum, the dropship sortie surged through the airlock and sped through the atmosphere, taking a route around the air-battle and diverting to the space-port itself. Kamon eyed the mirrored altimeter display within the cabin, watching the digits rapidly reduce. His suit was pressurized, but the cabin within the dropship soon reduced its pressurization to allow for what was about to happen.

A flashing green light shone, and the side-hatches of the dropship were thrown open. Kamon latched a harness to a hardpoint by the door, and gripped his repeater, which was attached to a swivel mount by the hatch, and pulled back the priming latch. His tactical HUD interfaced with the weapon sighting, which in turn highlighted the contacts visible out the door - the view before him being the exterior approach to the space-port, and the surrounding cityscape.

His HUD syncronized with the tactical readouts of their forces on the ground, which in turn divided all contacts into 3 categories - friendlies, outlined in green; hostiles in red, and non-combatants in yellow. He focused on a cluster of red laying down a base of fire on his comrades down below. He pulled the trigger, with dozens of high velocity fire belching forth from the hatch to the exposed ambushers down below - riddling several full of smouldering holes from hundreds of meters in the air.

The Marines were here; HEAR THEM HOWL.


​

 

[Vara Rasha]

RYLOTH | STREETS OF LESSU
ALLIES: Fellow Vode | Vren Rook | Yuri Maji | Fenn Stag | Kamon Hourn | Sahan Dragr | Rohrkell Vætir | Darion of Myrkr
ENEMIES: Tailheads | THR | Anyone Who Stands Before Me
ENGAGING: N/A | [OPEN]
GEAR: In Bio
​

Hostile Illusion​

Paranoia.

It settled quickly within the young Foundling. The accusing and hateful eyes glared at her, cautiously peering from windows and shutters alike as she moved. Shouting in a language foreign to her ears, she could only guess they were slurs hurled her way. But she made no account of it; long as they brought no weapons to bear towards her.

Whatever they were saying, the mutt was sure she had heard worse.

Wounded and alone, she stalked through a narrow back alley. The cacophony of battle was all around her, joined with the bellowing engines of aircraft overhead. One flank kept close to the walls, Vara kept her head on a swivel. The bore of her rifle trailed her crimson glare. Civilians dared not to stare down the barrel of her Paranaor for more than a second, shrinking away from windows and slamming doors.

She could not afford to be fixed by anything or anyone.

The foundling had enough intuition to recognize the people hiding in their homes most likely moved to tip off the militiamen.

The fact became all the more apparent as the distinct bellow of a landspeeder drew closer.

The Harpy bounded for cover. The silhouette of the vehicle emerged in the same breath as her backplate slammed against the bumper of a parked landspeeder. She peeked over the hood. Her eyes widened. The Harpy went to duck, as the E-Web at its truck bed opened up. The accompanying squad of militiamen bounded to fan out. Her maw clenched as the repeating blaster cannon tore into her cover, fixing her in place. Metal bent and tore off the hull, as shards of glass showered the foundling under heavy fire.

A roar ripped from her throat. <”aaaAAAAAAAAH! GETTIN’ SICK OF YOU-..”> She braced the rifle around the corner of her cover to fight back, only to be quickly persuaded against it when blaster bolts snapped past.

Close! MUCH too close!

Before long, the locals joined in on the fun. The E-Web's fire tightened as civilians leaned out of windows and balconies, pointing her out in their alien tongue. In heated gestures they urged the militiamen to close in for the kill, while some went as far as throwing whatever they could find at the Harpy.

Enough.

Instinct took over. <”KARK THIS!”> A hand incisively reached for a pouch as a rock dinged Vara in the helmet. A grenade. Its fuze clinked at the release of its spoon, she threw it over her shoulder. A thin streak of white trailed the arch. Thick, impenetrable smoke filled the street in a moment.

She moved. Rising sharply, the foundling bounded towards the nearest door. Blue blaster bolts sizzled past her shadowy silhouette amidst the smoke. The Paranaor opened up in a burst at the lock before she crashed into it.

The door swung open, granting a crumb of respite from the hailstorm outside. Her gaze met a group of silhouettes, huddled at a corner. The man of the house, she presumed, placed himself between his family and the glare of Vara’s rifle barrel.

Not a threat.

She fought every instinct as she brought the rifle to bear at the militia instead. They were closing in from the outside through the smoke. A crackle in her comms cut through the din.

Her kin!

Over comms he said, "I have overwatch on higher ground," and after a moment he added, "More enemies are coming. You should move."

:: <All stations, this is Maji. Ping location, I got no clue where you lot are. Vara, I’ll regroup with you. Stay where you are. > :: He called out over the radio before leaping to another rooftop.

The voices quickly restored her mood despite the circumstances. A chuckle poured from her snout as a hand went to reach for her throat mic. She spoke to her man, in particular. <”Not like I have much of a choice!”> Upbeat, yet anxious. Vara shoved the Paranaor around the doorway and let it bark blind, her cackle lashed through clenched teeth. <”HURRY!”> The ear splitting report of the E-Web threatened to drown her out entirely.

She needed that stupid fleabag. More than ever!​

 

[Darion of Myrkr]

OBJ I.
TAGS: OPEN | Vara Rasha Yuri Maji Kamon Hourn

A series of muzzle flashes at the corner of his vision caught Darion's attention. He turned to look and saw Mandalorian dropships deploying reinforcements near the spaceport.It was sound work. Sensible, tactical work. But where was the joy in that? Glory came when a warrior was pressed, when he stood against too many guns and did not fall. Those who lived to tell the tale were the ones who had earned it.

Then a hound-like howl rose and ripped his attention back onto the battlefield. The HUD's telemetry picked it up behind several buildings to the west. A single street wound its way toward the source of the cry, and Twi'lek soldiers and vehicles climbed upon it.

Darion adjusted the sniper toward the street. The distance was long and the angle poor. He fired anyway. He did not know if they struck true, but it was enough to make them slow. Enough to keep their heads down. He kept firing. It was all he could give. If it bought time for the entrapped Mandalorian, then it was worth the bolts.

 

[Carduul Akahl]

City Streets | Ryloth
Tags: Vren Rook | Sahan Dragr | Darion of Myrkr | Vara Rasha | Seva Beroya Kamon Hourn
Now. : Gavin Restur

The Mandalorian wasn’t sure whether to be irritated or pleased, as he slowly but surely carved his path towards the spaceport. He supposed he should be the former; this wasn’t an invasion, yet the entire planet and its corresponding entities seemed intent on acting like it was. He could only imagine this would be a headache to sort out in the aftermath when the Covenant was merely aiming to preserve the Mandalorian spirit. A diplomatic fallout-turned-skirmish was not on the agenda.

Everything was chaotic. Every other street had Mandalorians fighting towards the same direction he had; one united front, albeit altogether different from the purpose he was used to. It was almost as if he was in a trance, contemplating just how things would shake out once they were away from Ryloth. Many amongst their little diplomatic party, he knew well as Crusaders at heart. How many would the death toll be this time, upon both sides? Over a small misunderstanding- he didn’t even want to think of it, but he had to. All the while, he was still fighting—weaving through battle with a battle-hardened grace through the direction of the Poleaxe. Throughout those ruminations, perhaps an inkling of result was made through blows being reduced from killing to brutal. A blow that would’ve cloven a head from shoulders instead turned into a harsh crack of the haft against helmet, a blaster bolt directed from heart to the gut to send another sprawling to the floor. Every life he spared would more than likely be an enemy he’d have to face later…but what if, by the smallest possibility, that weren’t the case? Or perhaps he was merely growing soft. He treaded a dangerous, confusing line of thinking, something that can only be done in the place where he felt the most at-home in—combat.

Another explosion reverberated across the landscape—the mighty cannons of Basilisks sent by Seva Beroya sounded out as they soared just overhead. Republic fighters from the garrison nearby locked into engagement with what they could, but they couldn’t screen them all; a gatling of bolts saw the blockade ahead of him cleared. A nearby building crumbled, bringing dust to obscure it all briefly. Still he pressed on; this opening couldn’t be thrown away.

As the dust settled, there was a new scene afore him that he had to cut through to reach the Starport with his kin. The figure ahead was vague, certainly strange in appearance. Yet he needed to see no more than a blaster raised in the direction of another of his vode to act. As muddled as his own thoughts were, one idea burned so bright it overshadowed all of the others- that had guided his hand from the moment he had joined the crusade and galaxy at large.

His people would survive, by any means necessary.

The howl of a jettison forwards made noise before the blaster pistol did, sending several bolts soaring towards the figure’s center of mass. Whether they reacted to that or not, the poleaxe came sweeping downwards the figure, bladed side coming downwards in a heavy-handed arc.

 

[Gavin Restur]

[Objective I: Unleash Hell]
Equipment: Dual Blaster Pistols, Forcepike, Cycler Rifle, Rocket Boots, Rebreather + Tubes, Misc.
TAGS: Carduul Akahl (Now.)
​

Being one of the only Republic personnel to have seemingly actually made it planet side, he figured that it was probably up to him to actually make contact with the planet's defenders and militia, and get an idea as to what in the blazes is going on. He would walk along the defensive line, albeit at a rather brisk pace, in search for someone who looked like an officer. As he stepped by, bolts would fly over head, as well as slam into the cover he was using. Defenders were lined up, returning fire and calling out hostile positions, some even throwing thermal detonators.

After stepping over the body of a dead twi'lek, he would spot someone who seemed to be giving more orders as opposed to more bolts towards the enemy. Approaching, keeping a hand on the top of his hat to prevent it from flying off due to the nearby explosions. The officer happened to notice him, and rightfully assumed that due to the fact he did not look like a member of the planet's militia, that he was sent by the Republic.

"Are you with the Republic? Where is our support?!"

He'd take a moment to glance all around. Asides from whatever battle was currently happening in space, and the occasional Republic fighter in the sky that was battling the Mandalorians' own, there hadn't seemed to be much of a Republic response. Looking back over, his modulated voice speaking over. "Seems like I'm it, for the time being."

The officer facepalmed for a few moments. Despite having the Mandalorians surrounded and ambushed, they were managing to steadily drive themselves towards the spaceport, and towards their own escape.

The officer's hand slowly slipped away from his face. "Right, of course, should've expected this." Looking back towards Gavin, after. "Whoever you are, we are in desperate need of help. The Mandalorians came here for diplomacy, only to stab us in the back once again. And now, here we are." Whether that was an intentional lie or not was unclear. Though, what ultimately mattered is that due to Gavin not knowing anything as to what's happening, he believed the officer.

"Will you help us? We're losing men, fast."

A brief adjustment of his hat. "You're about to see a wonder before your eyes. Be careful, my skills are said to blind people, due to their sheer beauty."

He would step away from the officer, who had a look of incredulousness and confusion on his face, less impressed by the man's words, and more...unconvinced by them, a look that screamed, "This man can NOT be serious". With a press of a button on his wristpad, he activated his comms once more, speaking into them. "Gavin here. Seems like this ordeal is politics gone bad. Spoke to an officer, he said that the Mandos showed up for diplomacy, only to shoot 'em. Going to start engaging hostiles now." Comms are turned off, and with a press of a different button, a white, circular shield of energy appeared over his left arm. A blaster is unholstered in his other hand, and he glanced towards the Mandalorian positions.

Time to get to work.

With a vault over the cover that protected him, he began booking it towards the Mandalorians. Blaster fire quickly became targeted towards him, and so his shield was brought out in front, protecting him. On top of that, general agility and elusiveness meant that more bolts missed him as opposed to hitting his shield. As he quickly closed in on the Mandalorian lines, he let loose some of his own bolts towards them. Though, he wasn't just shooting in hopes of hitting anywhere on a target. He was making sure to specifically shoot in the exposed areas of Mandalorian armor, primarily their exposed neck region.

Gavin was someone who had studied the Mandalorian culture. This was half because of his own interest, but also because it was taught to him by the Echani community that raised him. In the past, the Echani and Mandalorians had a long and heated rivalry, and while he wasn't sure if such was still the case, he was raised to believe that it was.

Because of this, not only was he taught about the Mandalorians and their culture, he was taught how to kill them.

A brief jump with his rocketboots threw him into the line of the Mandalorians, with a swift kick being sent into the helmet of one warrior to send them down onto the floor. Once he landed, two bolts were fired towards warriors farther away, striking their necks and dropping them. A Mandalorian charged at him from the side, ramming into him and causing him to stumble. After some moments of struggling between the two, Gavin managed to sweep the warrior's feet from underneath him, causing him to fall on the floor. A quick lift of his leg, before-

CRUNCH.

His boot slammed down into the neck of the Mandalorian, who quickly went limp afterwards.

However, before he was able to continue his one-man assault on the Mandalorian position, fire from above caused a nearby building to crumble to the floor. He gave a brief glance towards the building as it fell, before his arms quickly lifted upwards to protect his face and head from the ensuing debris and rubble that came.

The entire area nearby was covered in dust, and for a brief while, it hurt to even open his eyes. He was extremely grateful that he could at least still breathe, due to his respirator. After some of the dust had settled, and he was able to actually see once more, he let off some bolts towards figures he saw in the distance, who proceeded to duck and get into cover.

Though, from the corner of his eyes, he saw more movement. A figure flying towards him, as well as blaster bolts. Caught off-guard, quick movements allowed him to dodge most of the bolts that were headed for his chest, with a swipe of his wrist shield deflecting the final bolt away to the side.

Though, his eyes widened slightly as the figure quickly closed in, with a poleaxe being lifted overhead. He brought his shield arm upwards, and the poleaxe SLAMMED into the shield. He was pushed down onto a knee, due to the sheer force of the impact. Though, he did not stay there for long. Pushing himself back up to a stand, the poleaxe is swept away to the side by the shield. A swift sidekick is sent into the man's armored chest, to push him back.

A moment was spent to merely stare at the man, Carduul Akahl . He shifted his blaster, changing it from being in his right hand, to his left hand. Grasping ahold of his collapsed forcepike from his belt, after.

"...Well, you look important." His modulated voice spoke over towards the warrior. With a quick flick of the forcepike downwards, the forcepike was opened. Electricity crackled along the entire length of the forcepike, but more prominently at the tip.

And he stared.

 

[Jax Thio]

Location: Jax's X-Wing, Orbit of Ryloth
Equipment: X-Wing Jumpsuit, Jax's Prosthetic Arm, Jax's Third Lightsaber, Marriage Ring to Jairdain
Tag: Livia Cadera , Seva Beroya , Kalantha , Kjartan Hammer-Hand , Duncan Avaron , Zavar Kelborn

Space battles were even more chaotic than on the ground. Being trapped inside of a small cockpit of a starfighter trying to navigate through the turbolasers, starship wreckage, and blaster flak. One mistake, and a pilot's body will either be incinerated thanks to the Starfighter exploding or their body will be exposed to the cold depths of space. It was fast, it was dangerous, it was the perfect environment for Jax. His X-Wing along with other N-1 Naboo Stafighter squadrons appeared from hyperspace and were greeted by a pandemonium of chaotic events. Freighters doing broadside attacks, Starfighters zipping around trying to gain the upper hand.

It was a mess as always, but Jax had a job to do, and it was to assist the High Republic in landing troops on Ryloth. It was a difficult task given that the Mandalorians would always put up a vicious fight. Yet as a Jedi, Jax did his duty to protect the innocent. "Mandalorians need to understand the word: No." Jax said to BB-12. "They rejected them years ago but now the Mandos want to bluster in and kill them all."

The Jedi Master pressed a couple of buttons on the control panel. "Locking S-Foils in attack position," Jax said. "Time to kick some ass."

In unison, Jax and N-1 fighters engaged enemy Mandalorian fighters. As the Jedi Master destroyed one Mando fighter, he could sense a disturbance in the Force as if something or someone was elsewhere.... elusive ready to strike. "I'll have to keep my wits about," Jax mumbled as he downed another Mando fighter. "I know the Mandos have a couple of surprises in store."

 

[Yuri Maji]

RYLOTH | LESSU
ALLIES: COV | Vara Rasha | Carduul Akahl | Fenn Stag | Darion of Myrkr | Sahan Dragr | Rohrkell Vætir
ENEMIES: TWI’LEKS
ENGAGING: Open
GEAR: In bio

HORSEPOWER​

What was supposed to be a simple negotiation and diplomatic exchange had turned into a full-blown battle in the capital of Ryloth. The skies were a chaotic mess of Republic fighters and Basilisks fighting for superiority, Mandalorian drop ships let a bunch of marines loose to tear the place up even further.

All to just get the hell off the planet.

Yuri stuck to the rooftops for the moment, simply sprinting and boosting across gaps to get to Vara’s position. He didn’t see Baby in the mix, at least, and a silent prayer was said in his head. The amount of fire directed at him was considerably less, thankfully, though he still had to take a few pot shots at some enthusiastic soldiers in pursuit of him. ”Uncle Vren’s gonna have fun with this disaster…” He grumbled to himself. Eventually he drew closer to Vara’s position, taking note of the shrieks of a repeater getting louder.

Smoke filled the streets just a little distance from him. A smile took hold but he didn’t stop. That repeater was going to be an issue.

<”Not like I have much of a choice!”>

<”HURRY!”>

With Darion providing overwatch and the bulk of the enemy distracted, Yuri ignited his jetpack and blasted into the air to look over the mess below. Vara was completely pinned down, locals were screaming from the windows and pointing at a doorway while militia and planetary troops converged.

A snarl tore from his maw.

He took aim and fired a rocket from his wrist at the speeder, watching it practically fold in on itself with a massive explosion. His twin pistols were levelled and golden bolts rained on the enemy. All the while his HUD painted one Twi’lek or soldier after the other. Whatever remained of the element of surprise was finally scrapped when a dozen Whistling Birds zipped through the air to drop their targets in rapid succession.

Yuri dropped down to ground level with pistols barking at the distracted troops. < :: Darion! Cover us, I’m getting Vara out! :: > He called over the radio as he began his advance to the doorway. Blaster bolts bounced off his armour, only to be returned in kind by the Hound. ”Die silent, schuttas.” He growled, finally reaching Vara’s position.

”Let’s move!” He barked at her, placing himself between her and the enemy to get her out. Once clear, he would wrap his arm around her and blast up to the rooftops for a moment of peace.

Onboard the Vod’gam, however, the hangar bay had another problem on its hands. While other ships flew planetside, one Basilisk was still grounded on a landing pad. He kept moving around, roaring and droning a single binary phrase.

:: Promise. ::

His ion engines would fire up, only to die again. His rotary blaster would spool up and halt barely a second later. Erratic, anxious and dangerous, Baby fought every line of code in his mind to override his master’s order to complete his one and only objective.

After several tense minutes of fighting and shifting, the Basilisk finally plucked his powerful claws from the holes punched into the landing pad. His engines started up again, and this time the Basilisk took off towards the surface of Ryloth.

:: Promise. ::

 

[Livia Cadera]

​

Location: In space
Objective: engage the republic
Gear: Beskar'gam, Skeleton, shotgun, Ship x4
Tags: Jax Thio Seva Beroya Kalantha Kjartan Hammer-Hand
Duncan Avaron Zavar Kelborn

Livia sat watching her readout making trajectory calculations. Scanners were on passive only to prevent giving away their intended target to the bridge crew of the cruiser, so Livia had to do a lot of this herself, but she was good at this, void war was her speciality. No, her passion.

Other pings appeared on her radar as the expected Republic defenses began to make their arrivals starfighters clustered a little further out woth at least one group on what looked like an intercept trajectory with her. It was an additonal variable but at this time it would not interrupt her mission plan too much. Her fighters were potent and her pilots were skilled. Once phase two began they would make tough work for the defenders.

There was a hiss as the control column slid sideways to allow her second to pilot the ship and someone else would take her seat momentarily. Livia moved backwards into the cramped cargo hold and prepared herself. Her helmet clicked on and her HUD lit up with all of her calculations.

"Ready to fire, Liv"

"Light em up on the turn then." she nodded and made a final squadron check. From a distance anyone observing would suddenly see their sensors light up with four heavily armed fighters offloading everything into the cruiser. Missiles, iron cannons, laser cannons, targeting point defense batteries, sensor systems, anything that might hamper the cruiser in defense. Then just as suddenly the four fighters would peel off the attack, skimming low over the cruiser's hull just under point defense cover and then at back out towards Jax Thio and his squadron.

 

[Vara Rasha]

RYLOTH | STREETS OF LESSU
ALLIES: Fellow Vode | Vren Rook | Yuri Maji | Fenn Stag | Kamon Hourn | Sahan Dragr | Rohrkell Vætir | Darion of Myrkr
ENEMIES: Tailheads | THR | Anyone Who Stands Before Me
ENGAGING: N/A | [OPEN]
GEAR: In Bio
​

Paradise Warfare​

Pressure.

The Harpy slinked away from the doorway. Blue blaster bolts sizzled through the thick smoke, threatening to singe and pierce her hide as they slammed into walls and windows. The mag release clicked. The empty drum spun away at a flick of her wrist. ”PIECES OF CHITS!” A violent snarl ripped from her throat as the Foundling slid in a fresh drum magazine, seating it in the magwell blind. A cry of a kid, sharp and fearful to her ears, cut through the din. Her glare flicked over the family behind her shoulder. Huddled tighter now.

Not a moment to pay the damning sight any mind, Vara tore her gaze away. Her teeth barred, she snapped her rifle back up. A quick peek around the corner, the Paranaor barked. Red bolts pierced the thick veil of smoke. An ear splitting cry followed a heartbeat after. <”SUCK START A SCATTERGUN, SCUGHOLES! AAAAAAH!”> Her warcry rose above the shriek of heavy blaster fire. The voices of all those directing their fire at her, buzzing like a hivemind they were, drowned out as she let loose another barrage into the street.

Something vicious birthed from the Harpy’s core. The fire in her crimson glare burned hotter than the abhorrence they held their kin to. <”..-GONNA KILL EVERY LAST ONE OF YOUUU!”> Compelled by her bloodlust she spilled forth, out into the streets again.

The bore of her rifle snapped to the outlines of a militiaman tearing through the smoke, a stone throw’s away. Instinct took over. She squeezed the trigger. The silhouette lit in a red haze. His blood misted, contrasting with the white smoke as particle bolts tore flesh from flesh.

The ground beneath her feet rocked amidst a sharp explosion a moment after. The entire street fell silent in the same breath.

YURI!

< :: Darion! Cover us, I’m getting Vara out! :: > He called over the radio as he began his advance to the doorway. Blaster bolts bounced off his armour, only to be returned in kind by the Hound. ”Die silent, schuttas.” He growled, finally reaching Vara’s position.

Her laughter pierced the air sharply, manic in her joy and bloodlust. <”yyyYEEEEEEEEAAAH!”> A cheer for none other than her man! The micro explosions caught her eyes as the smoke began to clear. One by one the militiamen met their fate at the hands of the micro-missiles, their grey matter strewn about the street, blood pooling in elaborate, eye-pleasing patterns.

Saccharine.

She wasted no time in joining in on the fun.

With refreshened zeal, she surged forward and joined her man. The rifle snapped to the nearest militiaman, and held down the trigger. He fell, never to get back up. The recoil rolled from her shoulders as she swung the barrel onto a group of them, scattering towards whatever safety they hoped to find behind the nearest cover.

A futile attempt.

Face first they fell, cut down like chaff. The howl of her rifle drowned out their screams. <”SHUT UP! SHUT THE KARK UP!”> Their meat tore from their bones under the rattle of her rifle. The back of one tore asunder. The remnants of his broken spine and ribcage jutted from the gaping entry wound.

The roar of her Paranaor cut sharply. The din of her breath, sharp and labored, loud in her ears.

Dead. They’re dead.

She hardly reined herself from wasting more bolts on them. Shouts began to tug at her focus. Anguished. They sought revenge.

Yuri’s booming voice anchored her from drifting away.

”Let’s move!” He barked at her, placing himself between her and the enemy to get her out.

The woman reached for her belt. A sturdy karabiner attached to a sling. It clipped with Yuri’s belt in the same breath he wrapped an arm around the small of her back, and took to the skies. The labyrinth of streets shrunk under them as an enraged mob filled the streets they just left.

She felt the ground under her feet again, after they made for the safety a roof offered.

The karabiner came free with a faint clatter. She pulled Yuri in without hesitation. Their helmet domes met in an affectionate Keldabe Kiss. Her breathing shallow and ragged. She broke away a heartbeat later. <”The kark took you so long? Y’took the scenic route or somethin’?”> She was back at it, throwing him a quip like nothing happened. The Harpy lowered herself to a knee. She ripped her helmet off, and set it beside her. Deft fingers found the canteen at her hip.

She needed to taste something other than her own blood in her mouth.

The screw-top squeaked and came free. The contents sloshed around as she took a big swig. The sharp spirit, Tihaar, cleansed her palette with each hungry gulp. A deep breath lashed into her maw as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. <”What’s next?”> She asked her man, offering a sip of her drink in the same breath.

They weren’t out of the woods yet.

 

[Fenn Stag]

FENN STAG
CITY STREETS | RYLOTH
TAG: Vren Rook l Sahan Dragr l Darion of Myrkr l Kamon Hourn l @alright you know who you are
GEAR: COMBAT GEAR

BROKEN ARROW​

He tucked the rifle under his arm, barrel up in the air, his arm pumping as he sprinted across the field. Blaster fire skipped around him, whizzing where he was going and where he'd been- he alternated his footfall, changing his steps every so often, ducking back, to keep the enemy from gaining a clear trajectory and ability to gauge his speed. Even crossing an open area was by far the most dangerous thing one could do in combat, and even wearing Beskar armor, there were ways to ensure that you didn't eat a blaster bolt to the torso or side of the head. Despite being fine, the kinetic impact of a blaster bolt was less pleasant than one would think.

The spaceport was within view now, far, but not close enough. Fenn, while running, in an impressive display of soldiering, reloaded his weapon mid-stride. He tossed the empty charge pack, and his weapon hummed back to life. Fenn's brief moment of stride and distance was soon underscored by the duracrete around him being ripped to shreds by an E-web. He hastily ducked into a nearby building, a nearby bank teller. The E-web didn't relent, tearing into the building with devastating volume and destruction.

Fenn barely had time to radio in for help- and pinging any nearby unit. Fenn was pinned down, and only managed to fire back two rounds before the E-web, mounted on the street, continued to tear into his cover. The E-web fanned out, the trained militiamen firing it doing a sweep of the building. Fenn's cover, a heartily made steel desk, took the impact for the moment. Fenn made himself as small as possible, weighing his options and gathering himself.

Even Super Commandos, despite all their training, were still at the mercy of a machine gun. He pulled his knee under him, ducking down as the E-web briefly stopped firing to change charge packs. He had roughly eight seconds on a well-trained crew to formulate a plan. He poked his head up-

And the rest of the militiamen engaged the hell out of him.

He ducked back down, and pinged for help again. They were determined to kill him and the Mandalorians.

 

[Carduul Akahl]

City Streets | Ryloth
Tags: Vren Rook | Sahan Dragr | Darion of Myrkr | Vara Rasha | Seva Beroya Kamon Hourn
Now. : Gavin Restur

So his newfound opponent managed to subvert his attacks, and not instantly fall. Interesting, but it was nothing yet of note. The bladed edge gave a metallic shriek as it clashed against the shield. The Mandalorian was curious to see just how long the individual would allow that to last—though it was thankfully not for long. The poleaxe was swept to the side, flowing in a swift motion to carry his body with it; pushed back with the action of the other. A soft ‘hff’ of breath exhaled with the kick, though it hardly made a mark through the armor as he straightened himself across from the figure.

“You look lost. This is not your fight.” Was the succinct, cold reply from the helm. The veiled features regarded the individual with an unknowable expression, yet one that radiated a certain foreboding. “But fear not,” As his blaster pistol was holstered, the polearm was hefted to be grasped into both hands. Steps slowly paced forwards, like an executioner preparing to make a killing blow. This was originally a mission of peace, that much was true. But there was no mercy in his heart for outsiders who had Mandalorian blood on his hands—that was an aspect that would never change for the Crusader.

“I shall bring you to the next life swiftly.”​

Came the words, just as the point of the poleaxe swiftly thrusted forwards towards the individual’s torso. A step motioned forwards, the back foot trailing behind to circle the central line in this makeshift arena.

 

[Kamon Hourn]

KAMON HOURN
GUNSHIP | RYLOTH - CITY STREETS
TAG: Sahan Dragr | Darion of Myrkr | Fenn Stag | Carduul Akahl | Rohrkell Vætir | Gavin Restur | Vara Rasha

IT’S ABOUT TO GO DOWN - CLICK PLAY ON THIS NOISE​

Fenn barely had time to radio in for help- and pinging any nearby unit. Fenn was pinned down, and only managed to fire back two rounds before the E-web, mounted on the street, continued to tear into his cover. The E-web fanned out, the trained militiamen firing it doing a sweep of the building. Fenn's cover, a heartily made steel desk, took the impact for the moment. Fenn made himself as small as possible, weighing his options and gathering himself.

Even Super Commandos, despite all their training, were still at the mercy of a machine gun. He pulled his knee under him, ducking down as the E-web briefly stopped firing to change charge packs. He had roughly eight seconds on a well-trained crew to formulate a plan. He poked his head up-

And the rest of the militiamen engaged the hell out of him.

He ducked back down, and pinged for help again. They were determined to kill him and the Mandalorians.

Kamon replaced the power cell of his repeater and pulled back the hammer as he searched for more targets. The dropship he was perched within had circled around the perimeter of the spaceport, but paused to hover over the far side to allow for Kamon to provide covering fire while a second dropship fell in place behind them. Twenty marines rappelled down from the dropship and began throwing fire at some security forces positioned behind some hastily placed barricades near the entrance. Kamon laid down covering fire at the assault-team’s six, keeping a depleted militiaman unit pinned down behind some battered rubble. Just then, a voice echoed over Kamon’s comm: <“Aurek-six this is Aurek-actual, do you copy?”>

<“Good copy Aurek-actual this is Aurek-six, over.”>. The pilot responded,

<“Aurek six, we’re receiving a call for support one-mike from your current position. Redeploy to provide covering fire and possible extraction, how copy?.”>

The dropship immediately began moving out of position, which resulted in Kamon pausing his fire support. <“Aurek-six to Aurek-actual, that’s a good copy. We are redeploying now - time to ping is 1 mike and closing, over.”>

<“Aurek-actual to aurek-six, that’s a good copy. Give them hell. Over and out.”>

---

The E-web was tearing into the duracrete of Fenn Stag position, with nearly a platoon-strength force of militiamen assaulting the beleaguered bank-teller. The assaulting force was so focused on pressing their advantage, they didn’t notice the thrum of the dropship as it approached their position, and only noticed their peril when the opening salvo of repeater fire rained down upon their position - centered around the emplacement. Kamon’s HUD flashed with red contacts, which resulted in a grin under his helmet. “Nothing like a target rich environment...”

The dropship hovered but shifted in place to throw off the hasty aim of the newly waylaid assault team. It wasn’t much by way of support, but it hopefully provided enough of an opening for the pinned Mando squad to take advantage...

​

 

[Darion of Myrkr]

OBJ I.
Vara Rasha Yuri Maji

Yuri's voice came over comms, saying, "Darion! Cover us! I'm getting Vara out!" Darion was already moving then. He was climbing for the roof for better sight. He was breaking out onto the flat roof and was dropping to one knee, and he was setting the sniper's barrel on the low railing while he was bringing his eye to the scope. He was breathing once, slow, and he was beginning to take in the street below when the firing all started at once.

The roof exploded under heavy fire. Shells were falling and missiles were screaming in and blaster fire was hammering flat and hard. Darion threw himself down as the first impacts tore into the roof. He was pressed to the concrete while plaster and cement were breaking loose and raining over him.

He called over comms while the noise was swallowing his voice. "Negative.I'm pinned down."

"You're on your own, vode."

The whistling was not stopping. The shells were still coming and the roof was shaking under him as though it were wheezing.

He was retreating now, sliding and scrambling, and then he was down the stairwell, the sniper rifle swinging against his back as he moved. The walls were thin and the cover was poor and he knew it even as he was trusting it. The barrage was still pounding above him, but dulled now by the walls.

Darion hears boots on the stairs then. They were coming up fast and loud, not caring who heard them. He was pulling his own rifle from his back and he was settling into the landing, bracing himself there where the stair turned. He was waiting while the footsteps were growing closer, knowing what they were thinking. They were thinking it would be easy.

He was smiling in the dark while he was waiting, because he knew they were wrong

 

[Zandra Ruus]

Location: Orbital space above Ryloth
Objective: Break in, bust out

One look out of the nearest viewport told Zandra everything she needed to know, the battle wasn't going the best the fleet. They had starfighters everywhere, and it looked like a little bit of force multiplication was in order! Zandra didn't know much about republic gunboats, but she knew they had plenty of turbolasers!

She sprinted through the halls, ducking in and out of alcoves to try and remain unseen. She couldn't afford to get swarmed by any republic marines. Sure she'd end up slaughtering many of em, but there'd be just too many to fight off. Instead, she waited for a maintenance tech to walk by. Wrong place and wrong time for the dark-skinned woman.

Before the tech knew what happened, she could feel a blaster poking into her back, and Zandra's arm around her windpipe. It was a situation neither of them liked, but it had to be done.

"You scream, I shoot, got it," Zandra asked, the woman quickly and quietly nodded to confirm she was listening. "Take me to the weapons controls. Stay calm, and I don't bleed you like a fish. Simple as that."

It would be as simple, Zandra didn't like cutting up unarmed innocents, no matter what the mission required. Call it a karked-up code of ethics, but that's how Zandra was taught. You did what you had to do, but only hurt those that deserved it. In this case, this Republic tech seemed to be as close to innocent as drones of a system could be.

They walked towards the ship's CIC, making turn after turn. The Sirocco class was a big boat, even if it was just a corvette. Getting to the brains of the ship was going to take a minute, in that minute, the ship began to shake, they were taking fire.

"Keep walking! I'll handle this," Zandra said, pressing two fingers to her helm to bring up the comms. "This is Zandra to Warchief Kjartan Hammer-Hand . I'm in one of the Republic gunboats, making my way to the CIC room now. Expect to see some friendly fire against enemy starfighters. Try not to blow it up until I'm off ship."

 

[Gavin Restur]

Equipment: Dual Blaster Pistols, Forcepike, Cycler Rifle, Rocket Boots, Rebreather + Tubes, Misc.
TAGS: Carduul Akahl
​

["You look lost. This is not your fight."]

The man's head was currently tilted slightly downwards, his eyes being obscured by the brim of his hat. "Any opportunity I get to bash Mandalorian helmets in, is an opportunity I'll always accept. Which is unfortunate."

"For the lot of you." For once, his tone had gone rather grim.

Though, upon seeing Carduul Akahl holster his blaster and take hold of his poleaxe with both his hands, that had elicited a grin from the man. To which, he decided to do the same. His own blaster was holstered, leaving only his wrist shield and forcepike currently equipped.

["But fear not,

I shall bring you to the next life swiftly."]​

And, the Mandalorian Warrior quickly descended upon him.

His head tilted back up, his eyes glancing directly to the warrior as he thrusted his poleaxe towards him. With a swipe of the forcpike across, the poleaxe was deflected off to the side once more, sparks launching out from the contact due to the electricity on the forcepike. Following this, he would proceed to throw a flurry of strikes with the tip of the forcepike towards the Mandalorian. Though, this was less in hopes of scoring a damaging blow, but more to see just how quick the other was in his reactions and defense.

And to see how protective that armor truly is.

After the flurry, the forcepike was pressed against the other's poleaxe in an attempt to secure it out of the way. He would reel his left arm over, and look to slam the energy shield right across the helmet of the Mandalorian, going to knock him over.

"Come on, Mandalorian! Show me how capable you are!"

 

[Yuri Maji]

RYLOTH | LESSU
ALLIES: COV | Vara Rasha | Carduul Akahl | Fenn Stag | Darion of Myrkr | Sahan Dragr | Rohrkell Vætir
ENEMIES: TWI’LEKS
ENGAGING: Open
GEAR: In bio

CHANT​

Finally granted a few moments to breathe, Yuri leaned in to press his forehead against Vara’s, though his caring touch quickly turned hard the moment he pulled away. He didn’t respond to her remark, instead pressing her into a wall to study her wound.

An explosion rocked a building not too far away, and Darion’s voice over the comms made Yuri’s heart sink. < :: Get to our location, vod. :: > He answered, all he could do was hope that the man would get out of the barrage in one piece.

Turning his attention back to Vara, he yanked the container of Tihaar from her hand and instead used the strong liquor to clean the biggest wounds he could see. ”You’re reckless, cuyan’ika. Way too trigger happy.” He grumbled as he studied the extent of her injuries. It wasn’t looking too good. He plucked his medpack from his belt and pulled it open for a bacta patch.

”Hey, what’s that funny sound you make again?” He quipped, a faint smirk forming behind his visor. With one hard tug, he pulled the piece of debris from her stomach and cauterized it roughly with his plasma cutter. The bacta patch was applied and a bunch of gauze stuffed into her body glove to keep everything together. The rest of her injuries were fine, and a hand on her head tilted her over for him to check for any other injuries. ”You’ll live. Just take it easy. You should’ve…” He didn’t finish his sentence. She couldn’t exactly just fly away like him or the rest of the group.

”Let’s move.” He slid her helmet back on, put his medpack away and cleaned his gloves with the last of the Tihaar. With an arm under her shoulder, the Hound helped Vara up to her feet and drew his pistols once more. ”If we fly, we’ll be… what’s that?” His attention was drawn to a faint howl of an ion engine in the distance.

Basilisks were already flying sorties and providing air support to the Mandalorians on the ground. But this one was all alone. Its howl was familiar to the Hound, and his heart sank the moment the dots in his head connected.

That was his Basilisk.

:: This planet will burn if my master is harmed. ::

The same line of dialogue repeated over and over again in Baby’s memory banks. His chassis was the first one off the assembly line, the first production Howler from the Ironworks. His brain wasn’t as advanced as the others, and coupled with the jumbled mess of code that came with stuffing an Astromech droid’s AI into the body of a War Droid made his method of thought more simple than the others.

But the loyalty that came from his time as a little BB-unit, coupled with the evolution of his AI after decades of destruction, had made the droid’s name laughably ironic.

The fateful day on Ryloth never left his memory banks. A pained, mechanical roar split the air over Lessu, followed by the piercing howl that many worlds and nations learned to compare to armageddon as the Basilisk closed in. One word kept ringing in Yuri’s ears despite his attempts to call Baby off.

:: Promise. ::

All Yuri, and the people of Lessu, could do was watch in horror as a volley of Proton Torpedoes were dropped in the wake of Baby’s flight over the city. The droid banked and fired relentlessly with his rotary particle cannon and laser cannons, tearing anything and everything apart that he could see. His line of fire came dangerously close to the Mandalorians spread out across the city, but at least the droid maintained some semblance of IFF recognition.

The beast touched down on top of a ruined building and dug his claws in, preparing to fire a weapon reserved for drilling through starship armour. All of his weapons focused into one powerful beam that shredded through streets, vehicles and buildings. With total disregard for his own safety, the droid shrugged off various missiles, shots and rockets against his hull.

He took off once again, firing away and letting either missiles or torpedoes drop down to the surface. Whichever came first in his magazines.

Yuri stood frozen in shock, unable to move in the wake of the destruction around him.

 

[Vara Rasha]

RYLOTH | STREETS OF LESSU
ALLIES: Fellow Vode | Vren Rook | Yuri Maji | Fenn Stag | Kamon Hourn | Sahan Dragr | Rohrkell Vætir | Darion of Myrkr
ENEMIES: Tailheads | THR | Anyone Who Stands Before Me
ENGAGING: N/A | [OPEN]
GEAR: In Bio

Paradise Warfare​

Treatment was what’s next.

The Harpy’s brows furrowed when the mutt didn't remove his helmet. Confusion flickered in her eyes. Instead, he shot a hand and pressed her back firmly against the wall behind her. Yuri leaned down. Vara’s eyes widened in realization. Her stomach dropped as she braced for the inevitable.

”Aaah-..!” A hiss lashed from between gritted teeth. Boots scraped against the floor tiles as her hand clutched at his shoulder, squeezing to bear the sting. ”..-hhHHaaaah! Oh God it burns!” a soft whimper rolled from her snout as the tihaar sizzled against her open wound. The alcohol washed the blood away. Pain pulsed deep and hot.

”You’re reckless, cuyan’ika. Way too trigger happy.”

The truth in his words brought a dismissive hiss from her. ”Oh kark off mutt,” Vara growled. ”It was all completely justified.” She smirked, her pearly white rippers stained with her own blood. Quipped as she did, the young woman told no lie. Her grin lingered longer than it should have. Constantly being reeled into the back foot ever since the ambush, it freed her to let loose.

And the desire for more quickly proved insatiable.

”Hey, what’s that funny sound you make again?” He quipped, a faint smirk forming behind his visor.

The Harpy’s grin faltered. A rare sight. She could hear the smirk. A soft, uneasy puff poured from her snout. ”W-Wuh?” Vara stalled, trying to buy more time for herself. But the inescapable took place. With a hard yank, she saw the large piece of shrapnel come free from her gut. Her maw split open. A voiceless scream as her back arched from the wall. Bare bricks cold at the back of her skull as her head whipped to meet it.

But she swallowed it.

A sharp ringing sang in her ears, drowning out the distant yet ever present cacophony of battle all around them. Black flecks swarmed her vision. The woman clutched harder at her man as he packed the laceration. The bacta gel a cooling breeze for her body, set alight in pain.

Thankfully, the debilitating throb at her gut began to dull, her resilience bolstered by the hearty swigs of Tihaar a moment ago.

Yuri’s touch reached her face. While he examined her injuries there, all he’d find was affection. The Harpy couldn’t stop herself from leaning into her man’s touch. Her core thrummed with a growl as she trapped his palm between her shoulder and cheek, nuzzling at his hand.

He found nothing more pressing than the deep cut across her midriff.

She was fine.

”You’ll live. Just take it easy. You should’ve…”

She gave him a look when his words never reached a conclusion: whatever it was, it would have to wait when they were no longer planetside.

”Let’s move.”

Noticeably he reached the same conclusion as her. As he lowered her helmet, Vara caught the rim and guided it into place. His arm wrapped under her left shoulder, the Harpy summoned her strength to get up. She kept her weight off him. A muffled grunt poured from her helmet vocabulator as she felt the ground beneath her feet once more.

Her grasp around the pistol grip firm, Vara couched the buttstock of her Paranaor blaster rifle. The focus of her crimson glare refreshed, she took in her surroundings. The howl and buzz of battle weaved back into her sharp ears.

”If we fly, we’ll be… what’s that?” His attention was drawn to a faint howl of an ion engine in the distance.

The young woman caught the shift in his focus at her periphery. Her head snapped to trail his gaze and looked to the skies.

She could hear it too.

The howl of basilisks tore the skies asunder in their wake, clashing with the interceptors of their enemy and raining hell on the militiamen.

But this one in particular was more fierce in its fury.

It soared the skies with a purpose different from the rest. Daring in its approach, the Wardroid brought reckoning to all those that dared to shoot it from the skies. Weaving its way through the ground fire, men tore to shreds under the merciless whine of its rotary canons. The Harpy’s eyes squinted as the iron beast of the skies bellowed a savage beam. Its output severe, nothing in its path stood a snowball’s chance in Haran.

Buildings folded inward amidst rolling clouds of dust and columns of earth. Tailheads vaporized. Vehicles twisted into burning slag. Salvos of missiles and proton torpedoes flung into dozens of targets at once the same breath the street leveling laser died down.

Vara whistled. ”I’ll be damned,” she murmured to herself. She turned to look at her man. His inaction stirred her. ”Yuri? Yuri.” Her tone quizzical, her elbow found purchase with his ribs. ”We’ve gotta keep movin’.” She held her rifle at a low-carry, barrel angled to the floor, her posture loose but ready. The Harpy's nod rolled towards the battlefield as her visor stared at his.

Her footfalls carried her to the edge of the roof. She peered over the parapet, eyes sweeping the streets below. A vehicle caught her glare. Another technical, its E-Web already swinging to bear at the enraged and lone Wardroid. “There,” Vara jerked her chin toward it. ”Look, I’d weigh you down if you fly with me in tow, we'd make an easy target for 'em.” She pivoted towards Yuri. ”But I can keep up with you in that speeder. C’mon!”

The Foundling spearheaded the effort. She aimed her left vambrace at the parapet. The ascension cable snapped free. The hook bit into the wall with a dull thud, and she leaped. Her locks and mane whipped in the wind as she descended. The hook tore free from the wall and whirred to coil back into its housing just as her boots struck the street.

She touched her throat mic, never slowing as she stalked towards the technical. <”Take the gunner, I’ll handle the driver,”> The Harpy snarled. The silhouettes grew larger with every step. Muscles drawn taught, she moved silently, the barrel pointed at the tailhead in the driver’s seat.

Her trigger finger itched, but the rifle was yet to sing its deadly song.

Not until she saw the whites of his eyes.

​