It's All In The Name

[J3C0]

Valerie punched the edge of the table with a heavy durasteel covered fist. The wood splintered and broke under the impact and the table itself shook on the verge of collapse.

There was a scowl on her face, her hair flowing wild and free, helmet sitting on the near collapsed desk. Around the table stood members of her and Bestala's mercenary band, each one having fought with the two sisters for nearly five years now, each one having experience the worst kinds of hell side by side, and each one getting chewed out by Valerie.

“Every loss.” Her voice was stone. “Every tank destroyed, every fighter lost, every fortress fallen is an expense that we cannot take lightly. This isn't our world, but we are paid to protect it, we are paid to defend it. Remember that.”

The men and women around the table nodded their heads, they knew what she meant. Here in the outer rim supplies were limited. Tank's, fighters, and even power packs were rare to come by, and everything that the dissidents took was a major blow to what Clan Vizsla was trying to do here.

The governor of this world had hired them to suppress a group of radical political dissidents. The task had proven easy until the Dissidents had gained massive leaps in the technological capabilities, Valerie had guessed correctly that someone was backing them, someone of Sith nature. Even thinking the word wanted to make her spit. Valerie bit her tongue, then spoke. “Call out to the clans. Anyone and everyone that can help. They'll get a cut.”

She needed more men, she needed more firepower. The pay here was good, the world was rich in alum, a material that the Mandalorians needed. Suppressing the dissidents would be good for the Mandalorians, good for Clan Vizsla, plus, there was nothing wrong with good old fashioned mercenary work.

At least for most Mandalorians.

[member="Emberli Garett"]

 

[Carbon]

It had be a considerable amount of time since Emberli had been willing, or even wanted, leave the sanctuary of Mandalore. That ancient, ancestral home to his proud warrior culture was near and dear to his heart, and since he'd helped drive the Sith Empire back all those moons ago he had felt little inclination to leave its tender bosom. But no Mandalorian could sit still forever.

No warrior could ever truly put down the sword.

And so when the call went out, it was answered by an unexpected source a few days later. The whine of repulsorlifts split wide open the natural sounds of the jungle, tanks in battered camouflage easing their way through massive trunks and foliage. Leading at the fore and rear, they covered the supply caravan in between. Astride and alongside these great vehicles of war rode and strode the Mandalorians of Clan Garett, a small, unimportant clan save for one individual.

The Bear; Ex-Mandalore and, in his own, savior of the Mandalorian people.

War had come to their door, and it had been beaten back. Annihilation had called, but only deaf ears had listened. A Mandalorian assault rifle, ancient in age but well maintained, was held within his crushgaunts, a pair of Mandalorian Rippers riding on his thigh plates. Another half a klick, and they'd be at the encampment. Another half a click, and he'd meet the woman who had put out the call.

And she'd meet him; a tired, old Mandalorian with more battle scars than sense, and a gentle heart not common to his people.

[member="Valerie Vizsla"]

 

[J3C0]

[member="Emberli Garett"]

Valerie stood in the same tent that she had just a few short days ago, by now there were three other marks in the table accompanying the firs she had made that day. Each one had been made due to a setback, each one had been a strike of anger or rage. The table had since been reinforced with heavy wooden planks and now looked like it had been little more than a piece of junk for quite some time.

Things upon this world were not going well.

Valerie had long since realized that they were outnumbered and outgunned.

Mandalorians were the finest warriors in the galaxy, the best of the best, but a hundred of them could only do so much against an army of thousands, especially when that army of thousands was now well armed, and well supplied. The Siegemistress scowled, grabbing the edge of the table and clamping down to the edge of breaking off the wood.

“Valerie, there's someone here.”

She was snapped out of her trance of anger by a sudden voice, one of her men. Valerie looked at him, hearing a sort of reverence in his voice. Curiosity quickly clouded anger. “Who?”

Any backup was welcome, but if it was someone worthwhile, that meant even more. A few minutes later, Emberli Garett stepped into the tent.

 

[Carbon]

The armed caravan rolled, or rather hovered and walked, into the encampment. Waving the men down, he gave a quick look around and headed towards the command tent on direction from a 'local.' His clan had always favored the old Neo-Crusader armor, and they sported it now. Emberli was the only exception, but they often gave him a pass for that.

Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, he brushed aside the slit entrance of the command tent and lowered his massive bulk through it. Standing at six and a half feet tall, Emberli was tall by every standard except Mandalorian. Even so, his broad shoulders and armor made up for that with sheer presence. Animal hide lined his shoulders, likely from the animal that gave him his name.

"Sitrep?" He asks, voice a near whisper, even through the distortion of his helmet. The man had always been known to be quiet, but he had grown exceptionally quiet since the attack on Mandalore.

 

[J3C0]

Valerie recognized the mans armor, but she said nothing in regards to it.

“There is some ten thousand rebels in the foot hills here.” She pointed on the map to a set of hills some miles away from where their own encampment was marked. “They're well armed, well supplied. I'm guessing Sith, most of their equipment bears resemblance to that manufactured by Titan Industries.”

If Valerie was impressed or in awe of the man in her presence, she didn't show it. Compared to the six and a half foot man the head of Clan Vizsla was absolutely tiny. Standing at only Five foot four she was more than twelve inches shorter than Emberli, with the man standing literally an entire head taller than her and his shoulder making him twice as broad as her.

Valerie didn't seem to care. “Dislodging them proved difficult. We lost most of our heavy armor in the last battle and since they've managed to push us back to here.”

He finger slid across the table marking where they had lost their armor and where they had moved back to.

“We've inflicted heavy casualties, but there's only so much we can do with the numbers we have.” Not to mention that supplies were running low and things were starting to become more than a little difficult. They had to strike hard and fast. Absently Valerie wished that Bestala was here, her sister had much more the mind for strategy than her.

Valerie was more single minded, she could bust any fortress wide open, but planning tactics in an open field? Not exactly her forte.

 

[Carbon]

"Well, if you don't want to waste time..." Shifting, the man turned his visor towards the tents entrance, waving to a man in red armor outside. The man simply gave a nod and scurried off. "We'll distribute some of our supplies to your men and we'll see about cracking the enemy. If we're as outnumbered as I think we are, we're going to have to do this the fun way."

Looking to the map, he taps a finger off it in thought rather than planning. "Find the enemy line, and punch a hole clean through it. I've a few bombers that can soften up a hole, and by the time the smoke clears the tanks can be in position to capitalize. If we push hard enough, fast enough, it won't matter that we're outnumbered. Confusion will win us the battle."

 

[J3C0]

Valerie nodded.

It wasn't a grand strategic master plan, it wouldn't win any awards or garner them and renown as strategic geniuses, but it would get the job done. It was a simple, clean plan, a Mandalorian plan, one that she and her men could easily get behind. For a moment more she surveyed the map, dark hazel eyes trying to spot something they had not before.

Then she nodded again. “Alright. Lets get it done.”

Her hands finally left the table, and with quick successive strides Valerie grabbed the long shafted spear from the corner of the tent. She smiled slightly as she gripped the weapon, scooping up her helmet in the same arm and cradling it slightly before walking passed him towards the exit of the tent.

“Valerie, by the way.” They had a lot of work to do, no time for talk, no time for fancy greetings.

 

[Carbon]

"Bear." He rumbles quietly. There was little he knew of the field of battle, but they could pull up a little bit away and get a scanning of the enemy positions first. Armed or otherwise, these were still rebels. More often than not, they were sparingly trained and of questionable morale. That was going to be used to their advantage. If they thought the Mandalorians on the back foot, a successful penetration of their lines would see them to victory.

Or so he hoped.

He'd been wrong before.

Spinning his index finger in the air, he got his men back from distributing ammunition and food to their beleaguered colleagues and back into position. "Lead on Valerie, we'll be right behind." He says, climbing atop the lead tank and setting himself down for the trip towards the front. It had been awhile since he'd last tasted battle, and even longer still since he'd met with another clan.

 

[J3C0]

Her only response was a nod. With a quick almost liquid movement Valerie placed the helmet in the crook of her arm onto her head. Seals hissed into place and the HUD inside of the helmet immediately sprang into life. She checked the armors systems, then nodded.

With a quick almost rushed jog Valerie moved over to one of the lighter Repulsor Tanks. The Vehicles weren't as heavily armored, but they were faster. Speed would be key in this, the faster they made it through the rebel lines the better it would be. She stabbed the butt end of her spear into a slot on the tank, checking to make sure the weapon was secure before slapping the bulkhead of the tank with her heavy gauntleted hand.

Immediately the tank lurched forward.

Around her, the men that had assembled underneath the leadership of Clan Vizsla mimicked Emberli and Valerie. Men and women quickly geared up, rearming themselves and hopping aboard tanks that had room enough to carry them.

Valerie noted the odd assortment of armor present among those riding to war. It seemed that Emberli's troops favored the old Neo-Crusader armor while half of her own used what one might call typical Mandalorian armor, and yet still the other half wore customized armor similar to her own. Those were the suits she had made, and those who wore it were a part of Clan Vizsla.

As she watched over the troops, the small army began to head directly towards the Rebel front.

 

[Carbon]

Emberli gave a pound on the hull of the tank, just above where the driver sat, and a few moments later the vehicle eased forward into motion. Already he could hear the lead tank commander calling the bombers to prepare themselves. Above, on one of the transports, the lone flight of air support would be armed and readied to go. By the time they reached the front, they'd be streaking down and awaiting their target.

It wasn't long before they had passed the sight of the last battle, and Emberli stood up on the turret as they neared a large clearing beyond which lay the rebel lines. He'd not have done it but for the thick, encompassing jungle that surrounded them. He needed the height to get a view, but knew he'd be exceptionally hard to spot. His warriors had long been experts in jungle warfare, dating back to their time being the sole Mandalorians on the Demon Moon.

This was no exception. "Where's the weakest part of their lines? Do you know?" He asks of Valerie, lips quirking.

 

[J3C0]

On her HUD she called up a Map.

She had been prepared of course, not for a forward move like this, but for defensive action. Part of that had been sending out scouts to pinpoint the enemy lines and fortifications. She had to hand it to them, these rebels could build decent fortifications out of what the land they moved through. Most of their lines were a series of quick trenches and short dugouts with a few makeshift bunkers.

One part of the line however was a broken and jagged series of disorganized pill boxes and half built turrets. She had assumed this had been meant to be a forward operating base for the Rebel Command, but them not being an actual functioning army had come back and bitten them in the backside, apparently volunteer soldiers weren't too fond of manual labor. So, what was supposed to be a stronghold had ended up a major weakpoint with only half built defenses.

“Here.” Valerie said sending him the scouts report.

 

[Carbon]

Emberli took the scouts report, then pounded a fist on the tank commanders hatch. A few moments later, it was unlocked and popped open, a helmet sticking itself out like a groundhog. Emberli handed him the report, then bade him send the coordinates to their support. With a nod, the commander disappeared, hatch locking and closing in the process.

"I hope you're ready." Raising a hand high in the air, his men seemed to grow still before they moved from the tanks and took up positions around them. A noise picked up somewhere deep in the forest, pushing forward like the encroaching tide before the scream of ion engines overtook them. Massive explosions cratered the weak point directly off and to their left, and Emberli snapped his arm downward in a chopping motion.

He wasted absolutely no time in throwing himself off the tank. The light repulsor tanks charged their way forward, cannons blasting. Without the fear of their fellows being on them, they pulled out all the stops in terms of speed. Behind them, at a dead sprint, charged Emberli's men and, likely, Valeries. At the very front was the Bear himself, throwing himself into the fight.

The first pillbox he came too was blown open by a thermal detonator dropped down an air vent. The tanks were already farther ahead than the infantry, spreading out behind the enemy lines and picking off fortifications as they could to sow confusion and terror among the enemy ranks. This was what the Mandalorians lived for, and part of him rejoiced in it.

Even if another half rebelled.

 

[J3C0]

Valerie followed after Emberli, but she was faster.

She wasn't more eager to get into battle or the better warrior, she was simply lighter armored, and likely better trained to use her speed. It also helped that she stood a full foot shorter than the other man meaning she was shot at quite a bit less. Valerie moved across the battlefield with reckless abandoned, dashing through minimal cover and reaching the first Rebel Defender in only a few seconds.

She speared him through the chest, the Beskar weapon slicing through his armorweave coat without any resistance what so ever.

He was only the first to die. Valerie moved through the battlefield quickly, taking one opponent after the next. She showed no signs of slowing, her target being one of the main bunkers in the back line, its front covered with heavy sandbags, the back being completely exposed.

Valerie jumped, and landed on top of the sandbags.